CHAP. V.
I will not, my dear Harriet, attempt to give you, in the language of a reprobate, the confession of one; let it suffice, that I faithfully communicate to you, the information which he, in the course of our three days journey, poured into my appalled ear; and when his recital is cleared from his oaths, it will be as follows: “You may date your ruin,” said he, “from the hour you were at Grantham, in your way to London with Mrs. Duncan, your supposed mother.” I started. “Let me at once tell you,” observed he, “that I know more of your history than you do yourself; therefore do not interrupt me. You met there a very handsome courteouslady, who took the coach with you from thence; she called herself Mrs. Peachley; she is Flamall’s wife, and sister to Keith. You know her kindness in recommending your mother to Keith’s lodgings. Your indisposition on the journey was declared the following day. You could not rise, and Mrs. Duncan, with much alarm, recommended you to Mrs. Keith’s care, and lamented the necessity which forced her from your bed side, for an hour or two, having an appointment which could not be delayed. At her return, she found you much worse, and a physician was summoned. For several days and nights this good mother of yours never left you. You were every hour nearer the grave; and overcome by her fatigue and terror, she got the start of you; for she was dead and buried before your eight and twenty days fever had fairly left you. During this time, when you were, for the greater part, more fit for Bedlam, or for your coffin,Mrs. Duncan was kindly visited by Mrs. Peachley, who, having called to see her relations, discovered that she had found a prey worth pursuing; and finding that her brother had inmates not likely to cavil at the price of his lodgings, she redoubled her attentions, by several times calling on Mrs. Duncan, to enquire after you, and, as she said, to see that the Keiths were assiduous in their attendance. Your poor mother, who knew not a being in London; but the person she had met the day of her arrival, and who was out of town, mentioned, with extreme distress, that in an hour of such difficulty, she had the additional misfortune of finding, that her only friend had left London and was gone abroad. This confidence became more enlarged, in proportion as your danger was more imminent. She incessantly lamented the absence of this Mr. Joseph Jago; and in her illness, she consulted Mrs. Peachley, on the means she shouldtake to secure to you the little property which her death would give you in case you survived her. Mr. Flamall’s good offices were employed; and she made her will, which was witnessed by her two doctors. You were left to Mr. Flamall’s care, and your money into the bargain, until such time as his trust should be set aside by your natural guardians, who lived abroad; or until you were of age, in case these relations did not appear. Hitherto all went well, but Keith’s wife, either from hatred of her sister, or the spirit of contradiction common to her, thought it a good opportunity of acting like an honest woman; she was careful of you during your delirium; and also attentive to your poor mother. Your generosity when you left her house for Mr. Flamall’s, confirmed her good dispositions towards you. I had not been without my suspicions, that the cautions which kept me inthe back groundall this time, were not used without solid reasons;Flamall, however, in the executive trust, which had thus devolved on him; brought home with him on the night of the funeral, some papers which belonged to the deceased Mrs. Duncan, in order for their better security as he said, and he then mentioned you and your condition, adding, that he did not think you could survive your mother; and that he had no clue to any of your connexions. He spoke of your little property in the funds; and the suspicion he entertained, that Mrs. Duncan was not your real mother.” “Why do you not examine her letters?” asked I. “I have,” answered he; “but they are written in Spanish; and I do not wish to have this young man’s story published unnecessarily; if he live, he may be able to give an account of himself, and if he die they must be translated.” “I am able to do that,” replied I; “and it may be prudent to know the ground you tread.” Flamall understood the tone with whichthis observation was made, and he gave me three or four letters from a pocket book, which he said, the defunct had in her trunk, and which constituted all the papers, that could lead to an explanation of a secret, which she had too long deferred to communicate. “I shall only notice to you,” continued Simons, “those passages which struck me the most. Two or three of the letters contained little more than most tender expressions of maternal affection; and the most pathetic description of the writer’s hopes and fears, as these related to you. One of a later date informed Mrs. Duncan that Jachimo de Castros had been summoned by the Duke to ——, his agency being more important there, than in England; that his services were supplied by the orders he had left with atried friend, Joseph Jago, a merchant in the Minories, to whom she was to apply in every exigency, and who would forward her letters. Another, of alater and recent date, was still more important, but it was like the oracles of old to me. Joy dictated the broken sentences. Much was said of a picture which heaven in its mercy had placed in Mrs. Duncan’s hands. Joseph Jago would supply her with a thousand pounds.” “HerHenrico” was to be cautiously introduced to a knowledge of a mother, whose miseries were forgotten, in the hopes of clasping her son, her long lost blessing, to her bosom. “Spare no expence for the masters he may yet need,” adds the writer, “it must be yet some months before all is ready for his appearance here; when, with an exultation, the thoughts of which transports me to extasy, his mother will be proclaimed innocent, and he, my Margaret, his father’s heir.” No signature was added to these letters; but it was now my turn to becautious. I gave Mr. Flamall, not the most exact translation of their contents; and he observed, that theywould do you more harm than good; for it was clear you were a bastard; and had lost your best friend, who had happily left you enough for bread, assisted by your industry. I was soon the friend of Keith; from him I only got hints, that quickened my curiosity. His wife was more pliant. She informed me, that Mrs. Duncan had written a long letter to Joseph Jago four days before she died; and had, in her hearing, desired that Mr. Flamall should send it to his house. Her husband was entrusted with it, and the gentleman was told, that his partner had received it, and had promised to forward it without delay. Now, added she, I know this was a lie, for it was in Mr. Flamall’s pocket at the time, and this is nothing to what I could say if I chose. “I was, as yet,” continued Simons, “only on the threshold;” and I forbore to press my questions. Flamall wasclose; and yet I found he was in cash. Keith had also money; and itwas my business to diminish his stock. This was soon effected; and one night he said, that he had been a cursed fool; for he might have made a man of himself had he insisted on his due. I urged him, however, by reminding him, that he ought to have known Flamall and the jade his sister. Yes, replied he, but they are always too cunning for me; though I know what was in the pocket case; and so does my wife; one, of ten, only of the notes, came to my share for all my trouble. I could not get more from him; but I knew then my next step was to the Minories. Your mother’s Joseph Jago was a rich Jew merchant, and I found his house without difficulty. I was received into an office of business, where several clerks were at the desk, and one who appeared to take the lead, civilly asked me my business. My enquiries led to his answers. “Mr. Jago’s absence was undetermined; but any letters or commissions I mighthave, would be punctually sent himto Cadizwith his own letters.” “Could I be favoured with his address?” “Certainly, but he had reason to believe his friend was then at Madrid; however, any letters directed for him to the house of Jachimo de Castros would reach him.” He courteously desired one of the young men to write the address, and presenting it to me, I withdrew.
So far all went well for my purpose; and I was doing you no mischief; but I will at once tell you, that I had motives for my conduct, in which you had not the least concern. Flamall had not only kept this whole transaction from me; but had refused to assist me in a difficulty of my own; and it behoved me to have him in my power. Had he known your chances in life, he would not have sworn to be your ruin, when he discovered, that you made love to his sister, nor would he have effected it, but for his wife. Yourmarriage was no secret to them; and I saw there was a plot brewing to ruin your poor wife, as well as yourself; for that “she devil” hated her, because she was virtuous. I was consulted by Flamall on this occasion, whose rage was checked by my arguments. Let it be noted by you here also, that he saw as well as I, that you were not afool, nor would be histool. At this juncture I was one day with him in his office, when casually opening a drawer in his private desk for a mislaid paper, I saw a Morocco picture case appear. I took my time, and on examining it, found it not only the representation of the most beautiful woman I ever beheld, but also enriched with costly diamonds. I was at no loss from what quarter it came; nor who had a right to it. My plan was now completed; for I had the means in my hands of saving my own head from the pilloryat least, and by serving you, should gain friends who would better recompensemy services than Flamall had done. “It is d—d hard when rogues are not honest to one another,” added he, “for they have no one in that case on whom to depend: but let that pass. You had swallowed the bait I had sent you, the anonymous letter answered, and you requested permission to go to Harwich. All that followed you know; but it is for me to inform you, that the honourable gentleman who saluted you on the road to Rumford, was Mr. Peachley, the uncle of Mr. Flamall’s wife, who was at that time in his house, which you passed, and moreover, I was in this secret, and what is more, received my fee in gold: Little did they suspect, that, villain as I was, I could not, nor would not, have been in this infernal business, had I not been certain of saving you as well as myself. But you were no sooner departed, and the coast clear, than I took the picture, and disposing of the frame for our joint convenience, I secured the angel face, which I will now give you.”
You may judge, my Harriet, of the sensations which assailed me, when he produced from its concealment, this evidence of my birth, and irreparable ruin. It was indeed the countenance of an angel which met my eyes! She was in a Spanish habit, the painting exquisitely finished and enamelled. My expressions of grief and despair touched Simons. “I am cursed,” said he, grasping my hand, “you recant, you cannot forgive me! but believe me, or not, I wished to serve you. I was fully convinced that I should succeed in tracing these men, whom I have mentioned; and by this means your father and mother. They are noble and rich, the picture frame was finished by a ducal coronet; it grieved me to break it; but it was unavoidable. I could have proved your identity, and given such evidences of Mrs. Duncan’s death, and the circumstances which had thrown you into the hands of villains as would have been unanswerable.But I am taken in my own toils,” added he, with vehement and dreadful imprecations; “and not allowed to be honest when I wished to be so.” I again soothed him, and by dwelling on my hopes of procuring my liberty, I solemnly engaged to take care of him to the utmost of my power. “I believe you on your word,” replied he with more composure. “You have convinced me that virtue is not a convention of interest, nor religion a lie. There was a time, when my conduct disgraced neither; but I was young, and had passions to gratify which your creed did not suit. I was gulled by a hypocrite, robbed by rascals, and defrauded of six or eight years labour by the neglect and ingratitude of the man whom I served by mytalents, as much asby my hand. Your compassion may save me, from worse bonds than even these,” added he wringing my hand. “I am old, but I have yeta heart; and humanity may make me faithful.”
Misery, my Harriet, does not harden the heart. It produced in mine an interest for this unhappy creature’srecoveryand comfort; and insensibly he became my consolation, for, with a fertility of invention, he suggested so many ways of reaching Gibraltar, and from thence the object of my wishes, that hope was renewed. His communications from time to time gratified my curiosity; although the subject of it was diverted to a less interesting concern than you, my beloved wife. Simons spoke of you, in terms of kindness and pity. “Then again,” said he, “I was a rascal; for I knew that her worthy father died in good circumstances, though without having secured to her a provision; yet I held my tongue; and was continued in my office with an advanced stipend. Flamall was certain, as he told me, that her beauty would be her fortune, and hisadvantage; and with this scheme in his head, she was treated with kindness under his roof, to the great disappointment of his wife, who had hoped to see herself acknowledged as Mrs. Flamall.” “And wherefore does he keep his marriage a secret, even from his sister?” asked I. “He has solid reasons,” replied he, “for keeping the lady in the back ground; her alliance is not the most honourable. Some business in which she and her uncle were useful to Mr. Flamall, obliged him to purchase her uncle’s evidence, and to silence hers as being his wife; but in return Flamall can any day he pleases hang old Peachley.” I was now, my Harriet, circumstantially informed of a transaction which I shall spare my pen the task of going over with you. But it opened such a scene of wickedness as to leave no doubts on my mind, that your brother was fully qualified to impose upon your innocence; and my soul sickened in reflecting thatyou were in the power of a man, who, to use Simons’s words, “wrote more hands than any man in the profession; and with an exactness so unrivalled, that he could impose on the Devil himself.”
On the evening of our fourth day’s tedious journey we reached the abode of our new master. He was a man of about forty, could speak a few words of English, and as many of Spanish. He examined me with attention. My youth and appearance pleased him, but unfortunately the people who had conducted us from the ship, had received an impression which they gave to him, and poor Simons was judged to be my domestic. You know that his person is not conciliating, and it was in vain that I discovered the interest I took in his fate. We were separated; my master taking me with him the next morning to a house and garden, several leagues from the town, in which he was ruler. Here my philosophy was checked. I was seized by an ardentfever, and for many days they thought me dying. Nature resisted the attack, I was treated humanely, and till I had strength to crawl into the garden, and to seek the shade, they assiduously carried me to the fountain, which they perceived I liked. But my grief was beyond their kind offices; I had lost my mother’s picture, and I understood that my patron had it. He at length condescended to visit me; for I believe he thought me a man above the common sort. My tears and intreaties produced nothing. He replied, that the lady pleased him, “it was pretty,” and by Mohammed he would keep the painting. To soften this obduracy he sent me my books and linen; and I was given to understand that I was to teach him English when I was well.
I next implored him to send my friend to me. He evaded my request; and I conceived from the signs made me, that he was removed too far from me to render iteasy to accomplish. The gentleness of my bondage in the mean time kept hope alive; for although I had the habit, and the badge of slavery, I had no cause for complaint. As my strength recruited, I was employed in light labour in the garden, and my mind was engaged by assiduously learning the Moorish language. Again, and again, I pleaded for the society of my friend, but in vain. At length I was told that he was dead; and the first use I made of my more familiar knowledge of the language, gave me the detailed circumstances of his miserable end. His grief and impatience on being separated from me was shown in a manner which the people about him neither understood, nor pitied. He refused food, and they chastised his obstinacy. He became more determined, and he was left to himself and time for the remedy. Nature at length conquered; he asked for food by signs expressive of his wants and submission; and they incautiouslyplaced before him some boiled rice and water, of which he ate and drank so voraciously, that he died in great agonies, a few hours after.
I found in this relation, my Harriet, my last human tie dissolved; and I deplored the loss of a man, whom in happier circumstances of fortune, I should, it is probable, have scorned for his vices, and condemned as a being, lost to every virtuous feeling; but isolated as I stood, Simons was a prop, and I could not think of him as a man who had outlived humanity. But to return to my more immediate purpose. My patron, pleased with my rapid progress in his language, now became a pupil for mine, and with much curiosity he would listen to my reading and imperfect translations of the English authors; but he soon relaxed from his ardour, the labour discouraged him, and he contented himself with occasionally conversing with me in his native tongue. My story producedno compassion, he had long desired to have an Englishman in his house, and as such I should by any application at Algiers have brought him into trouble with the Dey; he therefore chose to believe that I was of Spanish origin. My mother’s picture was an evidence of this, for he had seen Spanish ladies, although none so beautiful. Judge of the torments I endured, when in saying this he would produce the picture, and comment on its superlative beauties. Thus passed the first three years of my captivity, and my incessant and defeated projects of escaping to Algiers. At this period my patron removed to a more distant province; and I was further removed from every hope. Two years more were passed in that languor of mind, which the annihilation of hope occasioned. My master discovered, that he had gained no advantage from having an English slave. I was too feeble for labour, and too pensive for his amusement;and without a scruple of conscience, or a mark of regret, he exchanged me for a fine Arabian horse which pleased him; and with the most unpitying indifference refused to restore to me my mother’s picture, saying, that I had been a costly bargain.
With my new master, my toils were incessant; but to what purpose should I detail these years of misery to my Harriet? Wherefore should I attempt to delineate chaos, in which nothing of my former train of thought appeared, but the remembrance of the wife whom I had left in the power of a demon? It would be a fruitless attempt to give language to feelings, which at times overpowered my reason. But man, my Harriet, is no less incomprehensible, than the power which has endued him with the force to resist suffering. In the days of ease and enjoyment, the principles of his soul lie dormant; he shrinks from the slightest blast, which annoyshis enervated body and mind; given up to adversity, to hardship, and labour, all his powers exert their energy to preserve an existence, of which he is weary. Like the animals, it was my office to watch and serve; I slept after my allotted toil; and in the morning awoke to the privileges of the man, and the prospects ofthe Christian. How often did I bless my Maker, for the hopes of the Gospel. How often recall to my mind the lessons of my tender and pious Mrs. Duncan! My mind was soothed by the hope that you weredead, my Harriet; and I exulted in the thought of meeting with you in a world of bliss. My master, at this period, sold me to another; he was on the eve of a long and fatiguing journey, and he had the wisdom to perceive, that my strength was unequal to the duties it would unavoidably impose. I was, in consequence, sold to another Arabian merchant; but one much more wealthy than the masterI had so laboriously served, during his wandering desultory journeys, in his traffic of buying female slaves. To my unspeakable relief, I found that I was, with others in my master’s suite, furnished with a horse for our journey, of which each rider had the care, and my good fortune for once appeared. One of the most valuable of these beautiful animals was suddenly seized with an indisposition, which must, in a few hours, have proved fatal from the means used to preserve his life. My master despaired of his recovery; and I ventured to propose copious bleeding. My advice was taken, and I was the operator; the horse recovered, and my favour was established. Our journey terminated at my master’s home, and we became stationary. His only son, a youth of about sixteen, became attached to me, and, for a time, I entertained the romantic hope, of cultivating a mind, not deficient in natural endowments; but the momentmy pupil found that amusement led to application, he lost his relish for Ibrahim’s instructions. His father, a quiet indolent man, had, in the first instance of the son’s preference of me, formally given me to him, not displeased by the modes of instruction I had adopted; nor was he without hope, that my example and precepts might restrain the impetuosity of his son’s temper. I still hope, that I contributed to the amelioration of the soil, though I was unable to sow the seed I wished to see spring up. He exchanged me with perfect indifference for a young female slave; but with generosity he recommended me to my new patron as something more than a common man, adding, that I knew all things. Whether this character, or my reserved, although resigned behaviour, produced the effect, is not a question of any importance here; but it is certain, that he treated me with kindness, and conceived that I should repay him by the price hehad affixed to my talents. He was by birth an American, his traffic had conducted him into many remote regions; and I found in his conversation both improvement and amazement. Time had blunted the keen anguish of my wounded bosom; bondage was familiar to my dejected spirits; I was a non-entity to all, but my Maker; and in contemplating his arms of mercy, I could smile at my chains. In the course of two years I had, with my patron, journied by sea and land, until we at length reached Grand Cairo; where, induced by the profit accruing from my sale, he parted with me to a Turk of some estimation in the eyes of his countrymen, for he was opulent and well protected. He was advanced in years, had a noble countenance, and spoke to me with a dignified and placid courteousness, bidding me look upon him with confidence. I obeyed, and our eyes met. Good God! when I perceived the tremulous signs of humanity,the sympathetic greeting of his still expressive lineaments, my soul melted within me; I was unable to resist the sweet invitation of pity, and I burst into tears, instead of paying him the exacted homage of a slave to his master. He turned aside, and I saw, yes, my Harriet! I saw the tear roll down his venerable face. Here, for a time, was my harbour of repose. My benefactor and my friend listened to my tale of woe, and whether it arose from the suggestion of an enlightened reason, or from the benevolence of his heart, he neither blamed me for adhering to my religion, nor recommended to me his own. Once, and once only, he said with a smile, “be discreet Ibrahim, and be true to Allah in thy services; and whether thou art a follower of Jesus or of Mohammed, he will acknowledge thee.” I bowed in silence, and I gave no offence by being steadfast in my faith in the Gospel.