The Vicar of Wakefield (17 page)

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Authors: Oliver Goldsmith

Tags: #England, #Social Science, #Penology, #Prisoners, #Fiction, #Literary, #Religion, #Children of clergy, #Clergy, #Abduction, #Classics, #Domestic fiction, #Poor families

BOOK: The Vicar of Wakefield
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'Why let him if he can,' returned I: 'but, my son, observe this
bed of straw, and unsheltering roof; those mouldering walls, and
humid floor; my wretched body thus disabled by fire, and my
children weeping round me for bread; you have come home, my child,
to all this, yet here, even here, you see a man that would not for
a thousand worlds exchange situations. O, my children, if you could
but learn to commune with your own hearts, and know what noble
company you can make them, you would little regard the elegance and
splendours of the worthless. Almost all men have been taught to
call life a passage, and themselves the travellers. The similitude
still may be improved when we observe that the good are joyful and
serene, like travellers that are going towards home; the wicked but
by intervals happy, like travellers that are going into exile.'

My compassion for my poor daughter, overpowered by this new
disaster, interrupted what I had farther to observe. I bade her
mother support her, and after a short time she recovered. She
appeared from that time more calm, and I imagined had gained a new
degree of resolution; but appearances deceived me; for her
tranquility was the langour of over-wrought resentment. A supply of
provisions, charitably sent us by my kind parishioners, seemed to
diffuse new cheerfulness amongst the rest of the family, nor was I
displeased at seeing them once more sprightly and at ease. It would
have been unjust to damp their satisfactions, merely to condole
with resolute melancholy, or to burthen them with a sadness they
did not feel. Thus, once more, the tale went round and the song was
demanded, and cheerfulness condescended to hover round our little
habitation.

CHAPTER 24
Fresh calamities

The next morning the sun rose with peculiar warmth for the
season; so that we agreed to breakfast together on the honeysuckle
bank: where, while we sate, my youngest daughter, at my request,
joined her voice to the concert on the trees about us. It was in
this place my poor Olivia first met her seducer, and every object
served to recall her sadness. But that melancholy, which is excited
by objects of pleasure, or inspired by sounds of harmony, sooths
the heart instead of corroding it. Her mother too, upon this
occasion, felt a pleasing distress, and wept, and loved her
daughter as before. 'Do, my pretty Olivia,' cried she, 'let us have
that little melancholy air your pappa was so fond of, your sister
Sophy has already obliged us. Do child, it will please your old
father.' She complied in a manner so exquisitely pathetic as moved
me.

When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men
betray, What charm can sooth her melancholy, What art can wash her
guilt away?

The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every
eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom—is to
die.

As she was concluding the last stanza, to which an interruption
in her voice from sorrow gave peculiar softness, the appearance of
Mr Thornhill's equipage at a distance alarmed us all, but
particularly encreased the uneasiness of my eldest daughter, who,
desirous of shunning her betrayer, returned to the house with her
sister. In a few minutes he was alighted from his chariot, and
making up to the place where I was still sitting, enquired after my
health with his usual air of familiarity. 'Sir,' replied I, 'your
present assurance only serves to aggravate the baseness of your
character; and there was a time when I would have chastised your
insolence, for presuming thus to appear before me. But now you are
safe; for age has cooled my passions, and my calling restrains
them.'

'I vow, my dear sir,' returned he, 'I am amazed at all this; nor
can I understand what it means! I hope you don't think your
daughter's late excursion with me had any thing criminal in
it.'

'Go,' cried I, 'thou art a wretch, a poor pitiful wretch, and
every way a lyar; but your meanness secures you from my anger! Yet
sir, I am descended from a family that would not have borne this!
And so, thou vile thing, to gratify a momentary passion, thou hast
made one poor creature wretched for life, and polluted a family
that had nothing but honour for their portion.'

'If she or you,' returned he, 'are resolved to be miserable, I
cannot help it. But you may still be happy; and whatever opinion
you may have formed of me, you shall ever find me ready to
contribute to it. We can marry her to another in a short time, and
what is more, she may keep her lover beside; for I protest I shall
ever continue to have a true regard for her.'

I found all my passions alarmed at this new degrading proposal;
for though the mind may often be calm under great injuries, little
villainy can at any time get within the soul, and sting it into
rage.—'Avoid my sight, thou reptile,' cried I, 'nor continue to
insult me with thy presence. Were my brave son at home, he would
not suffer this; but I am old, and disabled, and every way
undone.'

'I find,' cried he, 'you are bent upon obliging me to talk in an
harsher manner than I intended. But as I have shewn you what may be
hoped from my friendship, it may not be improper to represent what
may be the consequences of my resentment. My attorney, to whom your
late bond has been transferred, threatens hard, nor do I know how
to prevent the course of justice, except by paying the money
myself, which, as I have been at some expences lately, previous to
my intended marriage, is not so easy to be done. And then my
steward talks of driving for the rent: it is certain he knows his
duty; for I never trouble myself with affairs of that nature. Yet
still I could wish to serve you, and even to have you and your
daughter present at my marriage, which is shortly to be solemnized
with Miss Wilmot; it is even the request of my charming Arabella
herself, whom I hope you will not refuse.'

'Mr Thornhill,' replied I, 'hear me once for all: as to your
marriage with any but my daughter, that I never will consent to;
and though your friendship could raise me to a throne, or your
resentment sink me to the grave, yet would I despise both. Thou
hast once wofully, irreparably, deceived me. I reposed my heart
upon thine honour, and have found its baseness. Never more,
therefore, expect friendship from me. Go, and possess what fortune
has given thee, beauty, riches, health, and pleasure. Go, and leave
me to want, infamy, disease, and sorrow. Yet humbled as I am, shall
my heart still vindicate its dignity, and though thou hast my
forgiveness, thou shalt ever have my contempt.'

'If so,' returned he, 'depend upon it you shall feel the effects
of this insolence, and we shall shortly see which is the fittest
object of scorn, you or me.'—Upon which he departed abruptly.

My wife and son, who were present at this interview, seemed
terrified with the apprehension. My daughters also, finding that he
was gone, came out to be informed of the result of our conference,
which, when known, alarmed them not less than the rest. But as to
myself, I disregarded the utmost stretch of his malevolence: he had
already struck the blow, and now I stood prepared to repel every
new effort. Like one of those instruments used in the art of war,
which, however thrown, still presents a point to receive the
enemy.

We soon, however, found that he had not threatened in vain; for
the very next morning his steward came to demand my annual rent,
which, by the train of accidents already related, I was unable to
pay. The consequence of my incapacity was his driving my cattle
that evening, and their being appraised and sold the next day for
less than half their value. My wife and children now therefore
entreated me to comply upon any terms, rather than incur certain
destruction. They even begged of me to admit his visits once more,
and used all their little eloquence to paint the calamities I was
going to endure. The terrors of a prison, in so rigorous a season
as the present, with the danger, that threatened my health from the
late accident that happened by the fire. But I continued
inflexible.

'Why, my treasures,' cried I, 'why will you thus attempt to
persuade me to the thing that is not right! My duty has taught me
to forgive him; but my conscience will not permit me to approve.
Would you have me applaud to the world what my heart must
internally condemn? Would you have me tamely sit down and flatter
our infamous betrayer; and to avoid a prison continually suffer the
more galling bonds of mental confinement! No, never. If we are to
be taken from this abode, only let us hold to the right, and
wherever we are thrown, we can still retire to a charming
apartment, when we can look round our own hearts with intrepidity
and with pleasure!'

In this manner we spent that evening. Early the next morning, as
the snow had fallen in great abundance in the night, my son was
employed in clearing it away, and opening a passage before the
door. He had not been thus engaged long, when he came running in,
with looks all pale, to tell us that two strangers, whom he knew to
be officers of justice, were making towards the house.

Just as he spoke they came in, and approaching the bed where I
lay, after previously informing me of their employment and
business, made me their prisoner, bidding me prepare to go with
them to the county gaol, which was eleven miles off.

'My friends,' said I, 'this is severe weather on which you have
come to take me to a prison; and it is particularly unfortunate at
this time, as one of my arms has lately been burnt in a terrible
manner, and it has thrown me into a slight fever, and I want
cloaths to cover me, and I am now too weak and old to walk far in
such deep snow: but if it must be so—'

I then turned to my wife and children, and directed them to get
together what few things were left us, and to prepare immediately
for leaving this place. I entreated them to be expeditious, and
desired my son to assist his elder sister, who, from a
consciousness that she was the cause of all our calamities, was
fallen, and had lost anguish in insensibility. I encouraged my
wife, who, pale and trembling, clasped our affrighted little ones
in her arms, that clung to her bosom in silence, dreading to look
round at the strangers. In the mean time my youngest daughter
prepared for our departure, and as she received several hints to
use dispatch, in about an hour we were ready to depart.

CHAPTER 25

No situation, however wretched it seems, but has some sort of
comfort attending it

We set forward from this peaceful neighbourhood, and walked on
slowly. My eldest daughter being enfeebled by a slow fever, which
had begun for some days to undermine her constitution, one of the
officers, who had an horse, kindly took her behind him; for even
these men cannot entirely divest themselves of humanity. My son led
one of the little ones by the hand, and my wife the other, while I
leaned upon my youngest girl, whose tears fell not for her own but
my distresses.

We were now got from my late dwelling about two miles, when we
saw a crowd running and shouting behind us, consisting of about
fifty of my poorest parishioners. These, with dreadful
imprecations, soon seized upon the two officers of justice, and
swearing they would never see their minister go to gaol while they
had a drop of blood to shed in his defence, were going to use them
with great severity. The consequence might have been fatal, had I
not immediately interposed, and with some difficulty rescued the
officers from the hands of the enraged multitude. My children, who
looked upon my delivery now as certain, appeared transported with
joy, and were incapable of containing their raptures. But they were
soon undeceived, upon hearing me address the poor deluded people,
who came, as they imagined, to do me service.

'What! my friends,' cried I, 'and is this the way you love me!
Is this the manner you obey the instructions I have given you from
the pulpit! Thus to fly in the face of justice, and bring down ruin
on yourselves and me! Which is your ringleader? Shew me the man
that has thus seduced you. As sure as he lives he shall feel my
resentment. Alas! my dear deluded flock, return back to the duty
you owe to God, to your country, and to me. I shall yet perhaps one
day see you in greater felicity here, and contribute to make your
lives more happy. But let it at least be my comfort when I pen my
fold for immortality, that not one here shall be wanting.'

They now seemed all repentance, and melting into tears, came one
after the other to bid me farewell. I shook each tenderly by the
hand, and leaving them my blessing, proceeded forward without
meeting any farther interruption. Some hours before night we
reached the town, or rather village; for it consisted but of a few
mean houses, having lost all its former opulence, and retaining no
marks of its ancient superiority but the gaol.

Upon entering, we put up at an inn, where we had such
refreshments as could most readily be procured, and I supped with
my family with my usual cheerfulness. After seeing them properly
accommodated for that night, I next attended the sheriff's officers
to the prison, which had formerly been built for the purposes of
war, and consisted of one large apartment, strongly grated, and
paved with stone, common to both felons and debtors at certain
hours in the four and twenty. Besides this, every prisoner had a
separate cell, where he was locked in for the night.

I expected upon my entrance to find nothing but lamentations,
and various sounds of misery; but it was very different. The
prisoners seemed all employed in one common design, that of
forgetting thought in merriment or clamour. I was apprized of the
usual perquisite required upon these occasions, and immediately
complied with the demand, though the little money I had was very
near being all exhausted. This was immediately sent away for
liquor, and the whole prison soon was filled with riot, laughter,
and prophaneness.

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