Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, the 28th, 29th, 30th, and 31st days
of my distress. And distress indeed! For here I am still; and every thing has been worse
and worse! Oh! the poor unhappy Pamela!--Without any hope left, and
ruined in all my contrivances. But, oh! my dear parents, rejoice with
me, even in this low plunge of my distress; for your poor Pamela has
escaped from an enemy worse than any she ever met with; an enemy she
never thought of before, and was hardly able to stand against: I mean,
the weakness and presumption, both in one, of her own mind; which
had well nigh, had not the divine grace interposed, sunk her into the
lowest, last abyss of misery and perdition! I will proceed, as I have opportunity, with my sad relation: for my
pen and ink (in my now doubly-secured closet) are all I have to employ
myself with: and indeed I have been so weak, that, till yesterday
evening, I have not been able to hold a pen. I took with me but one shift, besides what I had on, and two
handkerchiefs, and two caps, which my pocket held, (for it was not for
me to encumber myself,) and all my stock of money, which was but five
or six shillings, to set out for I knew not where; and got out of the
window, not without some difficulty, sticking a little at my shoulders
and hips; but I was resolved to get out, if possible. And it was farther
from the leads than I thought, and I was afraid I had sprained my ancle;
and when I had dropt from the leads to the ground, it was still farther
off; but I did pretty well there, at least. I got no hurt to hinder me
from pursuing my intentions. So being now on the ground, I hid my papers
under a rose-bush, and covered them with mould, and there they still
lie, as I hope. Then I hied away to the pond: The clock struck twelve,
just as I got out; and it was a dark misty night, and very cold; but I
felt it not then. When I came to the pond-side, I flung in my upper-coat, as I had
designed, and my neckhandkerchief, and a round-eared cap, with a knot;
and then with great speed ran to the door, and took the key out of my
pocket, my poor heart beating all the time against my bosom, as if it
would have forced its way through it: and beat it well might! for I
then, too late, found, that I was most miserably disappointed; for the
wicked woman had taken off that lock, and put another on; so that my
key would not open it. I tried, and tried, and feeling about, I found
a padlock besides, on another part of the door. O then how my heart
sunk!--I dropt down with grief and confusion, unable to stir or support
myself, for a while. But my fears awakening my resolution, and knowing
that my attempt would be as terrible for me as any other danger I could
then encounter, I clambered up upon the ledges of the door, and upon the
lock, which was a great wooden one; and reached the top of the door with
my hands; then, little thinking I could climb so well, I made shift to
lay hold on the top of the wall with my hands; but, alas for me! nothing
but ill luck!--no escape for poor Pamela! The wall being old, the bricks
I held by gave way, just as I was taking a spring to get up; and down
came I, and received such a blow upon my head, with one of the bricks,
that it quite stunned me; and I broke my shins and my ancle besides, and
beat off the heel of one of my shoes. In this dreadful way, flat upon the ground, lay poor I, for I believe
five or six minutes; and then trying to get up, I sunk down again two or
three times; and my left hip and shoulder were very stiff, and full of
pain, with bruises; and, besides, my head bled, and ached grievously
with the blow I had with the brick. Yet these hurts I valued not; but
crept a good way upon my feet and hands, in search of a ladder, I just
recollected to have seen against the wall two days before, on which the
gardener was nailing a nectarine branch that was loosened from the
wall: but no ladder could I find, and the wall was very high. What now,
thought I, must become of the miserable Pamela!--Then I began to wish
myself most heartily again in my closet, and to repent of my attempt,
which I now censured as rash, because it did not succeed. God forgive me! but a sad thought came just then into my head!--I
tremble to think of it! Indeed my apprehensions of the usage I should
meet with, had like to have made me miserable for ever! O my dear, dear
parents, forgive your poor child; but being then quite desperate, I
crept along, till I could raise myself on my staggering feet; and away
limped I!--What to do, but to throw myself into the pond, and so put a
period to all my griefs in this world!--But, O! to find them infinitely
aggravated (had I not, by the divine grace, been withheld) in a
miserable eternity! As I have escaped this temptation, (blessed be God
for it!) I will tell you my conflicts on this dreadful occasion, that
the divine mercies may be magnified in my deliverance, that I am yet on
this side the dreadful gulf, from which there could have been no return. It was well for me, as I have since thought, that I was so maimed, as
made me the longer before I got to the water; for this gave me time to
consider, and abated the impetuousness of my passions, which possibly
might otherwise have hurried me, in my first transport of grief, (on my
seeing no way to escape, and the hard usage I had reason to expect from
my dreadful keepers,) to throw myself in. But my weakness of body
made me move so slowly, that it gave time, as I said, for a little
reflection, a ray of grace, to dart in upon my benighted mind; and so,
when I came to the pond-side, I sat myself down on the sloping bank, and
began to ponder my wretched condition; and thus I reasoned with myself. Pause here a little, Pamela, on what thou art about, before thou takest
the dreadful leap; and consider whether there be no way yet left, no
hope, if not to escape from this wicked house, yet from the mischiefs
threatened thee in it. I then considered; and, after I had cast about in my mind every thing
that could make me hope, and saw no probability; a wicked woman, devoid
of all compassion! a horrid helper, just arrived, in this dreadful
Colbrand! an angry and resenting master, who now hated me, and
threatened the most afflicting evils! and that I should, in all
probability, be deprived even of the opportunity, I now had before
me, to free myself from all their persecutions!--What hast thou to do,
distressed creature, said I to myself, but throw thyself upon a merciful
God, (who knows how innocently I suffer,) to avoid the merciless
wickedness of those who are determined on my ruin? And then, thought I, (and oh! that thought was surely of the devil's
instigation; for it was very soothing, and powerful with me,) these
wicked wretches, who now have no remorse, no pity on me, will then be
moved to lament their misdoings; and when they see the dead corpse of
the unhappy Pamela dragged out to these dewy banks, and lying breathless
at their feet, they will find that remorse to soften their obdurate
heart, which, now, has no place there!--And my master, my angry master,
will then forget his resentments, and say, O, this is the unhappy
Pamela! that I have so causelessly persecuted and destroyed! Now do
I see she preferred her honesty to her life, will he say, and is no
hypocrite, nor deceiver; but really was the innocent creature she
pretended to be! Then, thought I, will he, perhaps, shed a few tears
over the poor corpse of his persecuted servant; and though he may give
out, it was love and disappointment; and that, perhaps, (in order to
hide his own guilt,) for the unfortunate Mr. Williams, yet will he be
inwardly grieved, and order me a decent funeral, and save me, or rather
this part of me, from the dreadful stake, and the highway interment;
and the young men and maidens all around my dear father's will pity poor
Pamela! But, O! I hope I shall not be the subject of their ballads and
elegies; but that my memory, for the sake of my dear father and mother,
may quickly slide into oblivion. I was once rising, so indulgent was I to this sad way of thinking, to
throw myself in: But, again, my bruises made me slow; and I thought,
What art thou about to do, wretched Pamela? How knowest thou, though the
prospect be all dark to thy short-sighted eye, what God may do for thee,
even when all human means fail? God Almighty would not lay me under
these sore afflictions, if he had not given me strength to grapple with
them, if I will exert it as I ought: And who knows, but that the very
presence I so much dread of my angry and designing master, (for he has
had me in his power before, and yet I have escaped;) may be better for
me, than these persecuting emissaries of his, who, for his money, are
true to their wicked trust, and are hardened by that, and a long habit
of wickedness, against compunction of heart? God can touch his heart in
an instant; and if this should not be done, I can then but put an end to
my life by some other means, if I am so resolved. But how do I know, thought I, that even these bruises and maims that I
have gotten, while I pursued only the laudable escape I had meditated,
may not kindly have furnished me with the opportunity I am now tempted
with to precipitate myself, and of surrendering up my life, spotless and
unguilty, to that merciful Being who gave it! Then, thought I, who gave thee, presumptuous as thou art, a power over
thy life? Who authorised thee to put an end to it, when the weakness
of thy mind suggests not to thee a way to preserve it with honour? How
knowest thou what purposes God may have to serve, by the trials with
which thou art now exercised? Art thou to put a bound to the divine
will, and to say, Thus much will I bear, and no more? And wilt thou dare
to say, That if the trial be augmented and continued, thou wilt sooner
die than bear it? This act of despondency, thought I, is a sin, that, if I pursue it,
admits of no repentance, and can therefore hope no forgiveness.--And
wilt thou, to shorten thy transitory griefs, heavy as they are, and weak
as thou fanciest thyself, plunge both body and soul into everlasting
misery! Hitherto, Pamela, thought I, thou art the innocent, the
suffering Pamela; and wilt thou, to avoid thy sufferings, be the guilty
aggressor? And, because wicked men persecute thee, wilt thou fly in the
face of the Almighty, and distrust his grace and goodness, who can still
turn all these sufferings to benefits? And how do I know, but that God,
who sees all the lurking vileness of my heart, may have permitted these
sufferings on that very score, and to make me rely solely on his grace
and assistance, who, perhaps, have too much prided myself in a vain
dependence on my own foolish contrivances? Then, again, thought I, wilt thou suffer in one moment all the good
lessons of thy poor honest parents, and the benefit of their example,
(who have persisted in doing their duty with resignation to the divine
will, amidst the extreme degrees of disappointment, poverty, and
distress, and the persecutions of an ungrateful world, and merciless
creditors,) to be thrown away upon thee: and bring down, as in all
probability this thy rashness will, their grey hairs with sorrow to
the grave, when they shall understand, that their beloved daughter,
slighting the tenders of divine grace, despairing of the mercies of a
protecting God, has blemished, in this last act, a whole life, which
they had hitherto approved and delighted in? What then, presumptuous Pamela, dost thou here? thought I: Quit with
speed these perilous banks, and fly from these curling waters, that
seem, in their meaning murmurs, this still night, to reproach thy
rashness! Tempt not God's goodness on the mossy banks, that have been
witnesses of thy guilty purpose: and while thou hast power left thee,
avoid the tempting evil, lest thy grand enemy, now repulsed by divine
grace, and due reflection, return to the assault with a force that thy
weakness may not be able to resist! and let one rash moment destroy all
the convictions, which now have awed thy rebellious mind into duty and
resignation to the divine will! And so saying, I arose; but was so stiff with my hurts, so cold with the
moist dew of the night, and the wet grass on which I had sat, as also
with the damps arising from so large a piece of water, that with great
pain I got from this pond, which now I think of with terror; and bending
my limping steps towards the house, took refuge in the corner of an
outhouse, where wood and coals are laid up for family use, till I
should be found by my cruel keepers, and consigned to a more wretched
confinement, and worse usage than I had hitherto experienced; and there
behind a pile of firewood I crept, and lay down, as you may imagine,
with a mind just broken, and a heart sensible to nothing but the
extremest woe and dejection. This, my dear father and mother, is the issue of your poor Pamela's
fruitless enterprise; and who knows, if I had got out at the back-door,
whether I had been at all in a better case, moneyless, friendless, as I
am, and in a strange place!--But blame not your poor daughter too much:
Nay, if ever you see this miserable scribble, all bathed and blotted
with my tears, let your pity get the better of your reprehension! But
I know it will--And I must leave off for the present.--For, oh!
my strength and my will are at this time very far unequal to one
another.--But yet I will add, that though I should have praised God
for my deliverance, had I been freed from my wicked keepers, and my
designing master; yet I have more abundant reason to praise him, that I
have been delivered from a worse enemy,--myself! I will conclude my sad relation. It seems Mrs. Jewkes awaked not till day-break; and not finding me in
bed, she called me; and, no answer being returned, she relates, that she
got out of bed, and ran to my closet; and, missing me, searched under
the bed, and in another closet, finding the chamber-door as she had left
it, quite fast, and the key, as usual, about her wrist. For if I could
have got out of the chamber-door, there were two or three passages,
and doors to them all, double-locked and barred, to go through into
the great garden; so that, to escape, there was no way, but out of the
window; and of that window, because of the summer-parlour under it: for
the other windows are a great way from the ground. She says she was excessively frightened; and instantly raised the Swiss,
and the two maids, who lay not far off; and finding every door fast, she
said, I must be carried away, as St. Peter was out of prison, by some
angel. It is a wonder she had not a worse thought! She says, she wept, and wrung her hands, and took on sadly, running
about like a mad woman, little thinking I could have got out of the
closet window, between the iron bars; and, indeed, I don't know whether
I could do so again. But at last finding that casement open, they
concluded it must be so; and ran out into the garden, and found my
footsteps in the mould of the bed which I dropt down upon from the
leads: And so speeded away all of them; that is to say, Mrs. Jewkes,
Colbrand, and Nan, towards the back-door, to see if that was fast; while
the cook was sent to the out-offices to raise the men, and make them get
horses ready, to take each a several way to pursue me. But, it seems, finding that door double-locked and padlocked, and the
heel of my shoe, and the broken bricks, they verily concluded I was got
away by some means over the wall; and then, they say, Mrs. Jewkes
seemed like a distracted woman: Till, at last, Nan had the thought to go
towards the pond: and there seeing my coat, and cap, and handkerchief,
in the water, cast almost to the banks by the agitation of the waves,
she thought it was me; and, screaming out, ran to Mrs. Jewkes, and said,
O, madam, madam! here's a piteous thing!--Mrs. Pamela lies drowned in
the pond. Thither they all ran; and finding my clothes, doubted not
I was at the bottom; and they all, Swiss among the rest, beat their
breasts, and made most dismal lamentations; and Mrs. Jewkes sent Nan to
the men, to bid them get the drag-net ready, and leave the horses, and
come to try to find the poor innocent! as she, it seems, then called
me, beating her breast, and lamenting my hard hap; but most what would
become of them, and what account they should give to my master. While every one was thus differently employed, some weeping and wailing,
some running here and there, Nan came into the wood-house; and there
lay poor I; so weak, so low, and dejected, and withal so stiff with my
bruises, that I could not stir, nor help myself to get upon my feet.
And I said, with a low voice, (for I could hardly speak,) Mrs. Ann! Mrs.
Ann!--The creature was sadly frightened, but was taking up a billet to
knock me on the head, believing I was some thief, as she said; but
I cried out, O Mrs. Ann, Mrs. Ann, help me, for pity's sake, to
Mrs. Jewkes! for I cannot get up!--Bless me, said she, what! you,
madam!--Why, our hearts are almost broken, and we were going to drag the
pond for you, believing you had drowned yourself. Now, said she, you'll
make us all alive again! And, without helping me, she ran away to the pond, and brought all the
crew to the wood-house.--The wicked woman, as she entered, said, Where
is she?--Plague of her spells, and her witchcrafts! She shall dearly
repent of this trick, if my name be Jewkes; and, coming to me, took hold
of my arm so roughly, and gave me such a pull, as made me squeal out,
(my shoulder being bruised on that side,) and drew me on my face. O
cruel creature! said I, if you knew what I have suffered, it would move
you to pity me! Even Colbrand seemed to be concerned, and said, Fie, madam, fie! you
see she is almost dead! You must not be so rough with her. The coachman
Robin seemed to be sorry for me too, and said, with sobs, What a
scene is here! Don't you see she is all bloody in her head, and cannot
stir?--Curse of her contrivance! said the horrid creature; she
has frightened me out of my wits, I'm sure. How the d---l came you
here?--Oh! said I, ask me now no questions, but let the maids carry
me up to my prison; and there let me die decently, and in peace! For,
indeed, I thought I could not live two hours. The still more inhuman tigress said, I suppose you want Mr. Williams to
pray by you, don't you? Well, I'll send for my master this minute: let
him come and watch you himself, for me; for there's no such thing as
holding you, I'm sure. So the maids took me up between them, and carried me to my chamber; and
when the wretch saw how bad I was, she began a little to relent--while
every one wondered (at which I had neither strength nor inclination to
tell them) how all this came to pass, which they imputed to sorcery and
witchcraft. I was so weak, when I had got up stairs, that I fainted away, with
dejection, pain, and fatigue; and they undressed me, and got me to bed;
and Mrs. Jewkes ordered Nan to bathe my shoulder, and arm, and ancle,
with some old rum warmed; and they cut the hair a little from the back
part of my head, and washed that; for it was clotted with blood, from
a pretty long, but not a deep gash; and put a family plaister upon it;
for, if this woman has any good quality, it is, it seems, in a readiness
and skill to manage in cases, where sudden misfortunes happen in a
family. After this, I fell into a pretty sound and refreshing sleep, and lay
till twelve o'clock, tolerably easy, considering I was very feverish,
and aguishly inclined; and she took a deal of care to fit me to undergo
more trials, which I had hoped would have been happily ended: but
Providence did not see fit. She would make me rise about twelve: but I was so weak, I could only sit
up till the bed was made, and went into it again; and was, as they said,
delirious some part of the afternoon. But having a tolerable night on
Thursday, I was a good deal better on Friday, and on Saturday got up,
and ate a little spoon-meat, and my feverishness seemed to be gone; and
I was so mended by evening, that I begged her indulgence in my closet,
to be left to myself; which she consented to, it being double-barred the
day before, and I assuring her, that all my contrivances, as she called
them, were at an end. But first she made me tell the whole story of my
enterprise; which I did very faithfully, knowing now that nothing could
stand me in any stead, or contribute to my safety and escape: And she
seemed full of wonder at my resolution; but told me frankly, that I
should have found it a hard matter to get quite off; for that she was
provided with a warrant from my master (who is a justice of peace in
this county as well as in the other) to get me apprehended, if I had got
away, on suspicion of wronging him, let me have been where I would. O how deep-laid are the mischiefs designed to fall on my devoted
head!--Surely, surely, I cannot be worthy of all this contrivance! This
too well shews me the truth of what was hinted to me formerly at the
other house, that my master swore he would have me! O preserve me,
Heaven! from being his, in his own wicked sense of the adjuration! I must add, that now the woman sees me pick up so fast, she uses me
worse, and has abridged me of paper, all but one sheet, which I am to
shew her, written or unwritten, on demand: and has reduced me to one
pen: yet my hidden stores stand me in stead. But she is more and more
snappish and cross; and tauntingly calls me Mrs. Williams, and any thing
she thinks will vex me. Sunday afternoon. Mrs. Jewkes has thought fit to give me an airing, for three or four
hours, this afternoon; and I am a good deal better and should be much
more so, if I knew for what I am reserved. But health is a blessing
hardly to be coveted in my circumstances, since that but exposes me
to the calamity I am in continual apprehensions of; whereas a weak and
sickly state might possibly move compassion for me. O how I dread the
coming of this angry and incensed master; though I am sure I have done
him no harm! Just now we heard, that he had like to have been drowned in crossing the
stream, a few days ago, in pursuing his game. What is the matter, that
with all his ill usage of me, I cannot hate him? To be sure, I am not
like other people! He has certainly done enough to make me hate him; but
yet, when I heard his danger, which was very great, I could not in my
heart forbear rejoicing for his safety; though his death would have
ended my afflictions. Ungenerous master! if you knew this, you surely
would not be so much my persecutor! But, for my late good lady's sake,
I must wish him well; and O what an angel would he be in my eyes yet, if
he would cease his attempts, and reform! Well, I hear by Mrs. Jewkes, that John Arnold is turned away, being
detected in writing to Mr. Williams; and that Mr. Longman, and Mr.
Jonathan the butler, have incurred his displeasure, for offering to
speak in my behalf. Mrs. Jervis too is in danger; for all these three,
probably, went together to beg in my favour; for now it is known where I
am. Mrs. Jewkes has, with the news about my master, received a letter:
but she says the contents are too bad for me to know. They must be bad
indeed, if they be worse than what I have already known. Just now the horrid creature tells me, as a secret, that she has reason
to think he has found out a way to satisfy my scruples: It is, by
marrying me to this dreadful Colbrand, and buying me of him on the
wedding day, for a sum of money!--Was ever the like heard?--She says
it will be my duty to obey my husband; and that Mr. Williams will be
forced, as a punishment, to marry us; and that, when my master has paid
for me, and I am surrendered up, the Swiss is to go home again, with the
money, to his former wife and children; for, she says, it is the custom
of those people to have a wife in every nation. But this, to be sure, is horrid romancing! Yet, abominable as it is,
it may possibly serve to introduce some plot now hatching!--With
what strange perplexities is my poor mind agitated! Perchance, some
sham-marriage may be designed, on purpose to ruin me; But can a husband
sell his wife against her own consent?--And will such a bargain stand
good in law?