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[-292-]
CHAPTER CCXXV.
THE OLD HAG'S HISTORY
"I
MUST carry my recollection back between seven and eighteen years. Not that it
requires any effort to call to mind the leading facts in this sad history;
no — no — they are too well impressed upon my
memory; — but there are certain details connected with my own
position at the time which will need the fullest explanation, in order to show
how one like me could have become the friend of Harriet Wilmot.
"At that epoch I kept a boarding-house — a
fashionable boarding-house, in a fashionable street at the West End. I was not
then ugly and withered as I am now: I had the remains of great beauty — for
I was very beautiful when young! I was also of pleasant and agreeable manners,
and knew well how to do the honours of a table. You will not therefore be
surprised when I tell you that I was a great favourite with the persons who
lodged at my establishment, and with the still more numerous visitors. It is
true that this establishment was a boarding-house; and it was conducted to all
outward appearances, in a most respectable manner. But it had its interior
mysteries as well as many other dwellings in this metropolis. The fact is, that
I was well known to a large circle of nobles and gentlemen who employed all
their leisure time in intrigues and amours. Having been gay myself from fifteen
to forty, I was deeply versed in the various modes of entrapping respectable
young persons, and even ladies, in the meshes artfully spread to ensure a
constant supply of new victims to the lust of those men of pleasure. Having
changed my name and thrown a veil as it were ever the past, I opened the
boarding-house by means of the funds supplied by my patron., and soon
experienced great success. By paying all my tradesmen with the utmost
punctuality, I acquired a good character in the neighbourhood; for your
tradesmen can always make or mar you, their shops being the scandal-marts where
all reports, favourable or unfavourable, are put into circulation; and as they
consider that those who pay well must necessarily be respectable,
regularity on that point is certain to ensure their advantageous opinion. Having
thus founded the respectability of my establishment, the rest was easy
enough. The calculations made by myself and patrons were these: — Boarding-houses
are usually inhabited by ladies possessing incomes which, though derived from
sources that are sure, are too small to enable them to set up in housekeeping
for themselves. Elderly widows with their daughters, — young widows
who coming from the country or from abroad, are strangers in London, but who
wish to marry again, and therefore seek that society which is most easily
entered, — friendless orphans who possess small annuities, — aunts
and their nieces, — grandmothers with their grand-daughters, — these
are the class of ladies who principally support boarding-houses. Thus there is
always a large proportion of young ladies in those establishments; and
out of a dozen there are sure to be three or four very good-looking. There can
now be no difficulty in understanding the motives which induced my patrons to
place me at the head of a boarding-house.
"I must now record the plan of operations. In all
boarding-houses the number of ladies preponderates greatly over that of
gentlemen. My average was usually about twenty ladies and four or live
gentlemen. Three times every week we had music and dancing in the evening; and
as there was a lack of beaux, I of course supplied the deficiency by
inviting 'some highly respectable gentlemen with whom I had the honour to be
acquainted.' These were of course my patrons; and when they were at the
house they always took care to treat me with a proper politeness, as if all they
knew of me was highly to my credit and honour. They thus became constant
visitors, and were enabled to improve their acquaintance with any of the young
ladies whom they fancied. As they were very attentive also to the elderly
ladies, and as good wine and negus were never spared upon those occasions, the
mammas, aunts, and grandmammas were very fond of our evenings' entertainments,
and considered the gentlemen whom I invited to be 'the most delightful
creatures in the world.' Sometimes rubbers of whist would vary the
amusements; and as my patrons were not only all rich, but had their own private
purposes to serve in frequenting my house, they allowed the old ladies to cheat
them without manifesting the least ill will; or else they actually [-293-]
played badly to enable the said old ladies to win. It was therefore impossible
that they could have failed to become especial favourites; and of these
advantages they availed themselves in their designs upon the young ladies.
"The lodgers in boarding-houses are always mean and
avaricious. The smallness of their incomes does not permit them to indulge
largely in their natural taste for dress; and yet nowhere do females maintain
such desperate struggles to appear fine in their apparel. Thus the ladies in
boarding-houses can easily be persuaded to accept of presents; and of these my
patrons were by no means sparing. A gold chain was a certain passport to a young
lady's favour; and a velvet or silk dress would secure the good opinion of the
aunt or grandmamma, and even of the mamma. Moreover, when one of my patrons
appeared particularly attentive to any young lady, she concluded of course that
his intentions were honourable; and in a very short time she became his victim.
In a word, my boarding-house, though ostensibly so respectable, was nothing more
nor less than a brothel conducted with regard to outward decencies, and
carefully hushing up scandals that occurred within.
"I must now proceed to the principal topic of my
history. It was, as I said, between seventeen and eighteen years ago, that the
Marquis of Holmesford, who was one of my best patrons, called upon me and said,
that he had seen a beautiful young woman enter a humble lodging-house in a
street not far from my own; and he directed me to institute inquiries concerning
her. I did so; and in due course ascertained that her name was Harriet
Wilmot — that she lived with her father in poor lodgings — and
that they were by no means well off. I managed to get acquainted with Harriet,
and called upon her. Her father was very ill — dying, indeed, of a
broken heart, through losses in business. It moreover appeared that he had
arrived in London only a short time before, and with a small sum of ready money,
which he embarked in a little speculation that totally failed. They were sorely
pressed by penury when I thus sought them out; and as I then knew well how to
offer assistance in a delicate manner that could give no offence, I was looked
upon by the poor young woman as an angel sent to minister to the wants of her
dying father, The Marquis supplied me liberally with the means of thus aiding
them; and I called regularly every day.
My plan was to instill into Harriet's mind elevated
notions of the position which she ought to reach through the medium of her
personal attractions. I told her of great lords who had fallen in love with
females in obscure stations, and who had married them; and as I also supplied
Harriet with clothes, I took good care that they should be of such a nature as
was calculated to engender ideas of finery. But all my arts failed to corrupt
the pure mind of Miss Wilmot: she listened to me with respect — never
with interest; — she wore the garments that I gave her, because she
had none others. I saw that it was no use to think of introducing the Marquis to
her immediately; and such was the passion he had conceived for her, that he did
not become lukewarm with delay.
"In three weeks after I first became acquainted
with the Wilmots, the old man died. The purse of the Marquis supplied, through
my agency, the moans of respectable interment; and when the first week of
mourning was over, I touched gently upon Harriet's situation. She threw herself
into my arms, called me her benefactress and only friend and thanked me for my
kindness towards her deceased father and herself, in such sincere — such
ardent — and yet such artless terms, that for the first time in my
life I experienced a remorse at the treacherous part I was playing. Harriet
declared that she could not possibly think of being a burden to me, and implored
me to follow up my goodness towards her by procuring her a menial
situation — as she was determined to go into service. I told her I
would consider what I could do for her; and I went away more than half resolved
to gratify her wish and place her beyond the reach of the Marquis by obtaining
for her a situation through the means of my tradesmen. But when I reached my own
house, I found the Marquis waiting for me; and he was so liberal with his gold,
and so useful to me as my best patron, that I did not dare offend him. I
accordingly hushed my scruples, and communicated to him all that had just
occurred. He directed me to get Harriet into my house on any terms, and leave
the rest to him. I was over-persuaded; and the next day I went to Harriet, and
said to her "My dear child, I have been thinking of your wish to earn your
own living; and I have a proposal to make to you. I require a young person to
act as my housekeeper: Will you take the place? You shall have your own room to
yourself; and I will make you as comfortable as I can.' The tears of gratitude
and the tokens of affection towards me, with which that friendless young woman
met my offer, actually wrung my heart. I wept myself — yes, I wept
myself! And I weep now, too, as all those memories return to me with
overwhelming force.
"Harriet Wilmot thus entered my service. But the
very same day that she came into my house, I was attacked with a sudden and
malignant fever, which threw me upon a sick bed. For ten days I was insensible
to all that was passing around me; and when I awoke from that mental darkness, I
found Harriet by my bed-side. For ten days and ten nights had she watched near
me, scarcely snatching a few moments' repose in the arm-chair. She was pale and
wan with long vigils; but how her beautiful countenance lighted up with the
animation of joy, when the physician declared that I should recover. And this
same physician assured me that I owed my life more to the care of the faithful
Harriet than to his skill. I was overwhelmed by this demonstration of so much
gratitude on her part; and I determined to place her beyond the reach of danger
the moment I was convalescent.
"But when I recovered, and was once more involved
in the bustle and intrigues of my business, my good resolutions rapidly
vanished — for the gold and the patronage of the Marquis of
Holmesford were so necessary to me! The Marquis now became a more constant
visitor than ever at the house; and he found opportunities to pay his attentions
to Harriet. But she did not comprehend his hints; and he soon spoke more boldly.
Then she grew alarmed: still, as she afterwards told me, she did not choose to
annoy me by complaints; and she contented herself by shunning the Marquis as
much as possible. At length, one evening, when inflamed with wine, he forced his
way into her chamber, and declared his views in such unequivocal terms, that the
poor creature could no longer sup-[-294-]port his
importunities. She indignantly commanded him to leave her: he grew bolder, and
attempted violence. She escaped from him, and quitted the house. From a lodging
which she immediately took, she wrote me a letter, detailing the insults she had
endured, reiterating all her former expressions of gratitude towards me,
acquitting me of all blame in the transaction, but declaring that, as she
supposed I could not prevent the Marquis from visiting at the house, she must
respectfully but firmly decline remaining in my service. I hastened to her, and
was not very urgent in my desire that she should return; for I remembered her
goodness to me when I was ill, and my heart was softened in her favour. By means
of one of my tradesmen she almost immediately obtained a situation as
nurserymaid in a family residing at Lower Holloway. I kept this circumstance
concealed from the Marquis of Holmesford, to whom I declared that I knew not
whither she was gone; and it was impossible that he could now blame me, as he
himself had driven her by his rashness from my house.
"I must observe that all these incidents, — from
the first moment of my acquaintance with Harriet until she thus quitted my
house, — occurred within a period of three months.
"Harriet was not happy in her new place. She found
that her mistress was an ill-tempered vixen, and her master a despotic upstart.
But an event occurred which entirely changed her gloomy prospects, and enabled
her to leave her situation without the necessity of seeking for another. During
her walks with the children whom she had to attend upon, she met with a
gentleman of middle age, but handsome person and agreeable manners; and some
accident, which I have forgotten, made them acquainted. From that time they met
every day: the gentleman became deeply enamoured of her, but never once did he
make a dishonourable proposal. She told him that she was a poor friendless to
appreciate the purity of her mind — and he loved orphan and he
pitied her: — in a short time he learnt her. He offered her his
hand; — but his pride imposed a condition. He was wealthy — he
was a widower — he had two children; and he probably disliked the
idea of introducing to the world as his wife one who had been a servant. She was
unhappy in her place — without friends — without
protectors; and she yielded to his solicitations for a private union. They were
married — married at Norwood, where the register will doubtless
attest the fact!
"This gentleman was Mr. Markham, of Markham Place.
I never was in the neighbourhood of that mansion until about a year ago; then I.
saw it for the first time, and I sighed as I thought of Harriet Wilmot! For she
ought to have become the mistress of the spacious dwelling; — and so
she doubtless would have become, had not my treachery blighted all her
hopes — all her prospects! But I must go back to resume the thread
of my history in due course.
"Mr. Markham took a comfortable lodging for his
young bride in a Street somewhere near Brunswick Square. Precisely ten months
after their union Katherine was born; and Mr. Markham now seriously thought of
acknowledging his wife and child. She had hitherto passed by the name of Mrs.
Wilmot since the marriage; and the husband regretted that he had not at once
boldly proclaimed his second matrimonial connexion to the world. All these facts
I subsequently learnt from Harriet's own lips.
"It was about three months after the birth of
Katherine that I met Harriet one day in the street; and she seemed to me more
beautiful than ever. She had written to announce to me that she was married, but
without saying to whom, nor indicating where she lived. When I thus encountered
her, holding her babe in her arms, she invited me to her lodgings, for she said,
'My husband will not he offended with me for communicating all the particulars
of my happiness to you; since you were the only friend I found in the time of my
poverty and, when my poor father was on his death-bed. Besides,' she added, with
a smile of infinite satisfaction, 'my husband is about to acknowledge me as his
wife and take me to his own home.' While we were yet speaking, the Marquis of
Holmesford rode by on horseback; and, as he turned to nod to me, he instantly
recognised Harriet. She also knew him, and hurrying along with some alarm,
entered her lodging, which was close by. I followed her: the incident which had
disturbed her was soon forgotten; and she then told me all the particulars of
her first meeting and her subsequent marriage with Mr. Markham. And how she
doted upon her child! Never did I behold a mother so enthusiastic in her
tenderness towards the offspring which she loved, and in which she felt pride!
"I took leave of her, and promised to call soon
again. On my return home I was by no means disappointed to find the Marquis
waiting for me. He said, 'You are acquainted with Harriet's abode. How happens
it that you have kept it secret from me?' — I assured him that I had
only just discovered, it. — 'Well, it may be as you assert,' he
continued; 'but do not deceive me in what I now require at your hands. Harriet
looks more lovely than ever; and all my passion for her is revived. She must be
mine; and to you I look for aid in obtaining for me the gratification of my
wishes.' — I told him that Harriet was married, and that the child
he had seen in her arms was her own; but I did not mention the name of her
husband. — 'I care nothing for her marriage or her maternity,' said
the Marquis: 'she is charming, and that is all I choose to think of. When money
and cunning can produce any thing in this city, it is not probable that I should
entertain ridiculous scruples. The money I possess; and if cunning were wealth,
you would be the richest woman in England.' — I remember this
conversation as well as if it only occurred yesterday. Vainly did I represent to
his lordship the difficulty of accomplishing the design he had in view. I
assured him that Harriet's virtue was beyond the possibility of corruption: he
replied that artifice could not fail to succeed, and that if I appeared cold in
the cause, he would employ another and less scrupulous agent. I trembled lest I
should lose his patronage and that of his friends; and I promised to do my best.
The Marquis left me, saying, 'Within a week I shall expect that you will have
matured some scheme that may make her mine; and your reward shall be liberal.'
"I was now sorely perplexed: I no longer hesitated
to obey the Marquis, because my own interests were concerned; but I knew not
what project to devise. At length, after having racked my brain for some short
time, I hit upon a device which seemed to be the most feasible my ingenuity
could suggest;-[-295-] but I resolved to cultivate
the intimacy of Harriet for nearly a week ere I put it into execution. I
accordingly contrived to be almost constantly with her for the next five days,
saving when she expected her husband. Of his coming she was usually made aware
by letters from him: some of those epistles she read to me, in the ingenuous
confidence of her pure soul; and well might she rejoice in them — well
might she treasure them, — for they were replete with tenderness and
love. I know not exactly now what it was that prompted me to possess myself of
some of those letters, in which Mr. Markham spoke of Harriet as his wife and the
infant Katherine as his own child; — but I most probably thought
that my knowledge of that secret union and its fruit might be turned to
advantage, especially as I saw that a wealthy and well-born man was struggling
with his pride whether to proclaim to the world his marriage with an obscure
servant or whether he should continue to keep the affair secret. At all events I
cannot conceal the fact that I abstracted, during a temporary absence of Harriet
from the room on one occasion when I called, three of the letters from her
desk, — three epistles in which Mr. Markham alluded in the most
unequivocal terms to his private marriage with Harriet and the existence of the
fruit of that union. These letters were addressed simply 'Mrs. Wilmot,'
and without the mention of her abode on the envelope; because, as I learnt from
Harriet, Mr. Markham always sent them by a messenger from a tavern in Lower
Holloway — never from his own house, nor by any one of his servants;
and by omitting the address, no clue could be afforded to impertinent curiosity
should a letter thus sent happen to be lost.
But to return to the scheme which I had formed for the
ruin of Harriet. During the five days that we were so constantly together, as I
have stated above, I professed the most sincere friendship for Harriet; and she
declared that the feeling was not only reciprocal, but that on her part 'it
was founded on the most sincere gratitude for my former kindness.' And
grateful she really was. It was her nature to be grateful and good towards any
one who was good — or seemed good — to her. But she
could not even have hated her bitterest enemies, had she known any persons who
were openly and avowedly her foes. She was all gentleness and amiability — all
ingenuousness and candour. But why do I thus dwell upon her excellent
qualities — since the more blameless was she, the less pardonable
was I!
"When I took leave of her on the fifth evening she
said to me, 'Mr. Markham will not be able to meet me at all to-morrow: you would
afford me pleasure by dining with me and passing a long evening.' — The
invitation exactly suited my purposes; and I readily accepted it. But on the
following day, instead of repairing to Harriet's lodging at four o'clock, as
promised, I went straight to Holmesford House. The Marquis was at home: he
awaited my coming — for I had communicated my design to him by note
on the preceding evening.
"Holmesford House has long been notorious for the
debaucheries of its lordly owner. Separated from his wife, and enjoying an
immense fortune, the Marquis has for many years led a life which, were he a
private individual, would exclude him from society, but which does not in the
least degree injure him in the elevated sphere wherein he moves. His dwelling is
fitted up in the most luxurious — the most voluptuous manner, and is
provided with all possible means to facilitate his designs upon those virtuous
females who may be entrapped into his mansion, but who will not yield to him
save when overcome by violence. And to that extreme measure has the Marquis
never hesitated to resort; — for who would think, however great her
wrongs, of appealing to the law against a nobleman so powerful, so wealthy, and
so unprincipled as the Marquis of Holmesford?
"There was one room in Holmesford House which I
must particularly describe. It was a bed-chamber — small, but
furnished in the most sumptuous manner. It had no side windows; but there was a
sky-light on the roof; and double sets of panes were fixed in the ample
wood-work, with an interval of perhaps four inches between each pair. Thus no
screams — no shrieks could penetrate beyond that strangely-contrived
window: the double panes deadened every sound which transpired in that room.
Similar precautions were adopted in respect to the other parts of the chamber
The doors were double, and covered with thick baize, so that they fixed tightly
in their setting. The walls were also double, with a considerable interval
between them: there was even a false floor half a foot above the proper one; and
carpets were spread so thickly that not even a footstep echoed in that chamber.
"I shall now continue the narrative of my project
against Harriet. Immediately upon my arrival at Holmesford House, I wrote a note
to the intended victim: it was thus worded: — 'Come to me,
dearest Harriet, without an instant's delay after the receipt of this. I am in
sad tribulation — at the house of a friend; but I cannot spare a
moment to give you an idea of the sudden misfortune which has overtaken me. If
you ever loved me — and if I have the slightest claim upon your
kindness — come! The bearer of this note will conduct you to the
friend's house where I am!' — Poor Harriet! she naturally
conceived that it must be some serious event which could prevent me from keeping
my engagement with her; and she hesitated not to accompany the female servant
who delivered the note to her. She took her child in her arms: the servant of
the Marquis suggested that she should leave the babe in the care of Harriet's
own domestic; but Harriet would never separate herself from her beloved infant!
The servant could not offer further remonstrance on this point; and Harriet
entered the hackney-coach which was waiting to convey her to destruction!
"It was in the very depth of winter and
consequently quite dark when Harriet reached Holmesford House. The lamps over
the entrance had been purposely left unlighted; and thus the poor young woman
did not observe the vast exterior of the mansion to which she had come. But when
the front door had closed behind her, and she found herself in the hall, she
exhibited some alarm; for, dimly as it was seen by the lustre of one faint lamp,
she observed enough to convince her that she was in no common dwelling. The
servant (who had of course received her cue) noticed the impression thus made
upon her, and hastened to say something of a reassuring nature. Thus, in a few
minutes, Harriet was inveigled into the chamber which I have before described.
'Permit me to hold the baby, madam,' said the servant; 'your friend is ill in
that bed.' — Harriet, doubtless bewildered [-296-]
at the strangeness of time whole proceeding, mechanically passed the child to
the servant, and advanced towards the bed, the curtains of which were drawn
around. She heard the doors close: she looked round — the servant
had disappeared with the babe — and Harriet was now alone with the
Marquis of Holmesford!
"Two hours elapsed! I was awaiting, in a distant
part of the mansion, the issue of that foul plot. Wine and generous cordials
were on the table; and I drank deeply of them to drown the sad thoughts which
oppressed me. Never had I before experienced — never have I since
known such terrible emotions! All the particulars of my connexion with Harriet
rushed to my mind. I remembered how I first beheld her, affectionately tending
the dying bed of her father, — how she sate day and night by my
side, ministering unto me in my malady as if she was my daughter, — how
I had seen her a happy wife, content with retirement and privacy — content
even with being, as it were, an unacknowledged wife, so long as she enjoyed her
husband's love, — and how she had conducted herself as a tender
mother, fondling and nursing her innocent little one! I thought of all this; and
at the same time I was almost distracted with the idea of the infernal treachery
which had now ensnared her! Years have passed since that foul night; and its
memory haunts me still. I have made many — many lovely girls victims
to the lust of my employers: — but none — no, not
one — do I regret, save Harriet Markham!
"Two hours elapsed, I say; and at length the
Marquis of Holmesford made his appearance. He was dreadfully frightened: his
manner was wild and excited. I could not gather, from the expression of his
countenance, whether he had triumphed or lost the victory to which be aspired
over a virtuous and defenceless woman. I interrogated him with a gesture of
impatience. 'Damnable woman!' he exclaimed; 'if there were not such
creatures as you, there would be less scope for the vices of men like me. Begone!
I would not endure another such scene — no, not were I offered a
sovereign crown!' — I made some observation; but he interrupted
me fiercely, and commanded me to depart. I dared not disobey — his
manner was actually terrific. He appeared as if he had just witnessed some
horrible spectre, or had perpetrated a dreadful crime. I returned home; and
never did I pass such a miserable night.
"All next day I waited in expectation of hearing
from the Marquis; but no communication arrived. In the evening I went to
Harriet's lodging, and saw the landlady. In answer to my inquiries, she said,
'Mrs. Wilmot remained out until a very late hour last night, or rather this
morning. It was nearly one when she came home with her child. She was in almost
a frantic state, and talked so wildly and incoherently that I could not
comprehend her. I persuaded her to retire to her chamber, and offered to sit up
with her. She allowed me to conduct her to her room, but insisted on remaining
alone. Poor thing! I heard her walking up and down the chamber until past five;
and then all became quiet. I supposed she had retired to bed. When I rose at
eight, I learnt from the servant, that she had gone out with her child half an
hour previously. She has not been back since; and I feel alarmed at her
absence.' — 'Some sudden calamity has perhaps overtaken her,' I
said, terribly frightened at these tidings. 'Have the kindness to send your
servant to let me know when she returns; but you need not tell her that you do
so. I have my reasons.' The landlady, believing me to be an intimate friend of
Harriet, readily promised compliance with my request. I was about to depart,
when she suddenly recollected something, and said, 'I had nearly forgotten to
tell you that about an hour ago, the messenger that usually comes from the
gentleman who visits Mrs. Wilmot, and who she says is her husband — ' — 'Yes,
yes,' cried I impatiently. — 'The messenger has left a small packet
for her,' continued the land-lady. — 'Let me see it,' I said,
thinking that its contents might afford some clue to the mystery of Harriet's
disappearance: 'I am acquainted with all Mrs. Wilmot's affairs, for you know how
intimate we are.' — The landlady showed me the packet without the
least hesitation, and I instantly recognised in the address the hand writing of
Mr. Markham. I longed to open the parcel, but dared not. So I took my departure,
having reiterated my desire to be informed of Harriet's return, the moment it
might happen.
"The next evening came, and I had neither heard
from the landlady nor seen the Marquis. I sent a note to the latter; but he had
left town on the previous day. A thought struck me: could he have persuaded
Harriet to accompany him? Had he so far overcome the virtue of that pure-minded
creature? I thought of the packet from Mr. Markham, and longed to ascertain its
contents. A strong suspicion lurked in my mind that it was connected with the
affair in some way or another. I however waited a week; and, hearing no tidings
of any kind concerning Harriet, went boldly to her lodgings. 'Mrs. Wilmot's
disappearance is so strange,' I said to the landlady, 'that, having consulted my
legal adviser, and acting on the plea of being her intimate friend, I am
determined to open that packet which was sent for her, and which I think must
afford some clue to her absence.' — The landlady gave me the packet,
saying, 'If you take the responsibility on yourself, well and good; 'but I will
have nothing to do with the business.' — This was better than I had
even expected; and I departed with the parcel.
"I was not long in returning to my house, and the
moment I had reached my own chamber, I tore open the parcel. It contained four
letters: but the contents of one will explain the presence of the other three.
That one was from Mr. Markham, and ran as nearly as I can recollect thus: 'After
the terrible discovery which I made last night, I can never see you more. You
have wantonly betrayed the confidence and affection of a man who descended from
his eminence to court your love in your social obscurity. But the moral bond
that united us is riven asunder; and the legal one shall be equally broken
should you dare to represent yourself as my wife. The most horrible suspicion
now haunts me that even your child may not be mine. Keep that
infant, then; and be good to it, if your depraved heart will allow you. And that
you may not sink into the lowest grades of crime from the embraces of the noble
libertine to whom you have abandoned yourself, I have instructed my banker to
pay to you, as Mrs. Wilmot, a monthly stipend of ten pounds. I have
destroyed all your letters, save the three which I enclose; and I return
them to you in the hope that a re-perusal of them [-297-]
will
place before you in all its glaring flagrancy the contrast between your
protestations and your deeds.'
"This terrible document bore no signature; but it
was impossible, either by its nature or the hand-writing, that it could have
emanated from any one save Mr. Markham. The three letters accompanying it
contained expressions of sincere gratitude and fervent affection towards Mr.
Markham, and denoted three particular phrases in Harriet's connexion with him:
namely, her assent to their union, the fact that she was in a way to become a
mother, and the announcement of approaching maternity. I wept as I read
them: — I wept as I thought of all I had done in accomplishing the
ruin of poor Harriet!
"The Marquis came no more to my house; — I
saw by the newspapers that he had returned to London, a few weeks after the sad
incidents just described; — again I sought an interview with him,
but he would neither see nor correspond with me. My other patrons deserted me:
they had been introduced by the Marquis; and, finding that he had some private
reason to shun me, they fell off rapidly. I was compelled to break up my
establishment: it ruined me in pocket, as it had ruined many, many young females
in virtue. But for none of my victims did I reck — no, not one, save
Harriet Markham.
"I fell gradually lower and lower in the scale of
my avocations; but still I contrived to gain a living in various ways which have
no connexion with the object of this narrative. It was about a year after the
sad events above recorded, that I one day met Harriet Wilmot face to face in the
neighbourhood of Bloomsbury. She was poorly clad and sickly in appearance; and
her countenance was expressive of profound mental dejection. She held a letter
in her hand; but she had not her child with her; and she was hurrying rapidly
along — most probably to the post-office. 'Harriet!' I exclaimed,
catching her by the hand. — She started at being thus accosted; but
the moment her eyes tell on my countenance, she shuddered visibly, and cried
out, 'You!' — then she darted away as if in affright,
dropping the letter upon the pavement. For some moments I was so stupefied by
her abrupt flight, that I stood as it were paralyzed. But seeing the letter upon
the pavement, I recovered the use of my limbs and hastened to pick it up. It was
addressed 'To the [-298-] Marquis of
Holmesford, Holmesford House.' I hurried away with it, saying to myself,
'Now I shall discover how far the connexion between Harriet and the Marquis
went.' — But I was disappointed: the letter merely contained, as far
as I can remember, these words: — 'I ought not to address your
lordship, under the peculiar — the distressing circumstances which
made us acquainted; but necessity compels me to appeal to your lordship's
bounty. It is not for myself, however, that I implore your aid; but for the sake
of my child, who is starving! Oh! my lord, if you only knew what the feelings of
a mother are when she beholds her infant shrieking for food, and turning its
eyes towards her countenance in so piteous a manner that they speak the language
of famine far more eloquently than its tongue could possibly do, were it able to
express its wants in words, — if you could understand these
feelings, you would not think ill of me because I thus appeal to your
bounty.' — An address was given in an obscure street in Bloomsbury;
and the letter was signed 'Harriet Wilmot.'
"Again I felt for that poor creature, who was now
reduced, with her poor infant of fifteen months old, to such a state of penury;
and I do not say it to render myself less despicable than I must appear in the
eyes of those who may peruse this narrative, — but I merely state it
as a fact, that I hastened home, gathered together the few shillings which I
possessed, and hurried off to the address mentioned in Harriet's letter. But
when I reached the house indicated, I learnt from the landlady that Mrs. Wilmot
had suddenly departed half an hour before. 'She was very poor,' observed the
woman; 'but she was honest. She strove hard to maintain herself, with her
needle, and starved herself to feed her infant. She thought herself quite happy
when she earned five shillings in a week. Night after night did the poor
creature sit up till she was nearly blind, toiling constantly at her work. And
when she went away so suddenly just now, she offered me her shawl in payment of
the little arrears of rent due. My God! I would sooner have given her all I had
than have taken a rag from her! Ah!' added the woman, wiping her eyes, 'there's
something very wrong somewhere in the country when such good mothers are allowed
to die by inches through sheer famine!'
"I went away, very miserable. I felt convinced that
Harriet, when she perceived she had lost her letter, suspected that it might
fall into my hands, and that I should thereby learn her place of abode. And it
was clear that she had departed so abruptly to avoid me! I have kept that
letter — as well as all the others to which I refer in my history.
"As nearly as I can recollect, two years and three
quarters passed away; and I again saw Harriet. It was in the month of January,
about noon on a bitter cold day; and I was walking through Long Acre, when I
suddenly perceived her enter a house, which was evidently let in lodgings to
poor families. She did not observe me; but I felt a violent longing to make my
peace, if possible, with that unfortunate victim of my treachery. The door stood
open for the accommodation of the various inmates; and I hurried up the
staircase. I heard footsteps before me — and I followed them to the
very top of the house: then I caught a glimpse of Harriet entering a back
garret. I advanced to the doer, and knocked gently. Harriet immediately opened
it; but when she beheld me, she recoiled with, such an expression of horror and
alarm upon her death-like countenance, that I was dreadfully embarrassed. 'My
dear friend,' I said, at length: 'pray — in the name of heaven! hear
me!' — 'You!' she cried, in that shrieking kind of tone which
had marked her utterance of the word when we met before, and which showed her
utter abhorrence of me — a sentiment I well deserved: 'hear you!
Oh! no — no!' — and she closed the door violently. I
knew not how to act. I felt convinced that she had never communicated with Mr.
Markham since the period when he made that mysterious but 'terrible
discovery' to which he alluded in his letter that fell into my hands. I
thought I would acquaint her with the existence of that letter and the nature of
its contents; because it promised an income which would have placed her above
want. So I sate down upon the stairs to reflect how I should proceed to induce
her to hear me. In a few minutes the door opened quickly, and Harriet, with her
child (who was then four years old) in her arms and a small bundle in her hand,
appeared on the landing. She shrank back when she saw me — she
evidently thought I was gone. Then, recovering herself, she exclaimed 'Wretch!
why do you haunt me? Have you not injured me enough already? Will you not even
let me die in peace?' — I started up, saying, 'Do hear me! You
know not how important — .' — But ere I could utter
another word, she rushed wildly past me, and ran down the stairs with a
precipitation which manifested her profound horror at my presence.
"Thus had I involuntarily driven her a second time
from her humble home! I was sorely afflicted, for many reasons — but
chiefly because my motives were not on either occasion wrong. I was about to
take my departure, when I thought I would cast a look at the interior of the
chamber which she had inhabited. By its appearance I hoped to judge of her
circumstances, which I sincerely wished might be improved. I entered the room:
it was evidently a ready-furnished garret. I am able to recognise such facts at
a glance. Though not absolutely wretched, it was mean — very
mean — too mean to permit the idea that she, poor creature! was
comfortable in her resources. Several papers were burning in the grate: she had
evidently set fire to them the moment ere she left the room in the precipitous
manner described. I hastened to extinguish the smouldering flames, but redeemed
the fragment of only one important paper. It contained the commencement of a
letter evidently written that morning, as I discovered by the date. Strange to
say, It was another epistle addressed 'To the Marquis of Holmesford,
Holmesford House.' Its contents were to this effect: — 'Your
lordship will pardon me for again intruding myself upon your notice; but a deep
sense of the duty I owe to my child, and the dread of leaving the poor innocent
girl to the mercy of strangers — for the hand of Death seems to be
already upon me — must serve as my excuse for thus troubling you.
And when your lordship reflects that it is to you that I owe all the hideous
misery which has been my lot for nearly four years, — through you
that I lost the love and confidence of my husband, — your lordship's
heart will not allow this appeal to be made in vain. Hitherto your lordship has
remained unacquainted with the name of that husband of whom I speak: but now it
is my [-299-] duty to reveal it to you, that your
lordship may see him — '
"The remainder had been so scorched that it was
illegible. Conjecture relative to the termination of the sentence was vain. Was
the unfinished word explain? Or was it express? Often — often.
have I sate and wondered what the end of the passage originally was, ere the
flames singed that sad letter. She felt the hand of Death already upon her;
and I had driven her from the place where she wished to die in peace!/
Wretch — wretch that I was!
"From that time forth I never saw her more!
"All that I know of Harriet Markham is now told.
The only link that is missing in the chain of my narrative is the detailed
account of the mode in which Mr. Markham discovered that his wife had become the
victim of the Marquis of Holmesford. That mystery the Marquis himself may be
enabled to explain.
"My task is terminated: nor would I for worlds be
compelled to accomplish it over again. It has given additional poignancy to
thoughts that frequently oppress me, and has aroused others equally painful, but
which had slumbered for years and, years until now. And where I write — I
dare not name the place, nor even those at whose command I write — there
is a fearful gloom that is congenial, too congenial with those appalling
reminiscences. Perhaps I should have felt and expressed less remorse for the
past, had I written under more pleasant circumstances; perhaps, in that case,
many of those dread images which here haunt my mind and are reflected in
the bewailings and self-reproaches which appear in these pages, would not have
visited me: still, had I performed this task in a cheerful chamber and in the
gladdening sun-light, — even then I must have felt some
remorse — for of all the bad deeds of my life, the treachery which I
perpetrated towards Harriet is the blackest!
"May her sweet daughter Katherine be more
happy — more fortunate!"
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