3302914The Adventures of David Simple — Book II, Chapter XSarah Fielding

CHAPTER X

the history of camilla

"The task I have undertaken, sir, cannot be performed without interruptions from the remembrance of past sorrows; but I make no question you will be so good as to pardon my weaknesses. Nay, from what I have observed of your disposition, I believe you will sympathize with me in my griefs, I am the daughter of Mr. ——, a man very well known in the world from many extraordinary actions he has performed; his reputation for sense, and courage, are equal.

"I spent my infancy from the time I can remember, very different from what most children do; it being the usual method of most of the wise parents I have ever seen, to use their little ones in such a manner, as if they were laying plots to procure their hearty aversion to the end of their lives; but my father used to say, that as he lived in a country where Christianity was professed, there was no danger his posterity would ever be slaves. He therefore would never use them to the thoughts of whips and rods, nor on any account have them terrified into an action by servile fears. Indeed, he often added, that we did not scruple buying and selling slaves in our colonies; but then we took care not to convert them to our faith, for it was not lawful to make slaves of Christians. My mother was a very good-natured woman, and showed her judgment in always submitting to my father; so that my brother and I passed our childhood in all the happiness that state is capable of enjoying; and the only punishment we ever had for any fault, was that of being sent from our parents' sight, which made us more afraid to offend than anything else could possibly have done; for we soon became so fond of our kind indulgers, that our chief pleasure was to prattle round them, and see them delighted with our little childish remarks. When we asked any questions, we were never bid to be silent, nor called impertinent, but informed and instructed in everything we were desirous to know. This encouragement heightened our curiosity, and we were in a manner led into a knowledge beyond our years. We loved each other with a perfect fondness; there was no partiality shown to either of us; nor were we ever told, if we did not do right, the other should be loved best, in order to teach us to envy, and consequently to hate each other.

"When Valentine was nine, and I was eight years old, he was sent to a public school. It was with great difficulty these fond parents were induced to part with him; but they thought it was for his good, and had no notion of indulging themselves at his expense. Their grief at this separation was somewhat recompensed by the sorrow we both expressed at parting, as they thought it a proof of that love for one another which they had made it their study to cultivate, and which they hoped would be useful to us throughout our lives. I was too young to consider any other good than the present pleasure, and was for some time inconsolable; but my father and mother's goodness, who endeavoured all they could to comfort me, and told me they had only sent Valentine away for his own profit, that he might be the happier man, at last entirely pacified me: we heard from him once a week, and I then lived in a situation, I think, the most desirable in the world; I am sure I have often esteemed it so since, and wished to live it over again. This life continued till I was twelve years old, when all my tranquillity was interrupted by a fatal accident, which has never been out of my thoughts twenty-four hours since it happened, and which I can never mention without the most piercing grief.

"One morning, as my mother and I were walking in the fields (as was our custom an hour before breakfast) a thorn ran into her foot, which put her into the most violent pain; insomuch, that she was unable to stir. As we were alone, I knew not what to do to help her; I saw her turn as pale as death, and look ready to faint away; this threw me into intolerable agonies and I fell a-screaming so loud, that I was heard by some labouring men, who were at plough in a ground not far from the place where we were. They immediately came to our assistance; I desired them to take one of their horses, and contrive, if they could, to carry my mother home; we were not above a quarter of a mile distant, so that one of the men made a shift, as she was a little woman, to carry her before him. It would be in vain to attempt to describe what my father (who loved her very affectionately) felt at this sight.

"We rubbed her foot with some spirits, and in a little time she seemed to be easy, and went about the house only a little limping, without any great complaint, for four days; at the end of which she began to be very uneasy. We presently looked at her foot, the point of the thorn was just visible; all around it was very much swelled, and in the middle was a great black spot; we neither of us had skill enough to pull out the thorn, and our hands trembled at the very approaching her.

"We therefore dispatched a messenger with the utmost speed to fetch a surgeon: when he arrived, and had pulled out the thorn; I, who observed his looks, saw he shook his head, and seemed to fear some terrible consequence. My mother, who had a resolution not to be staggered by any event, begged of him to let her know the worst of his thoughts, for she saw he apprehended something very bad. The surgeon said, indeed he had great reason to fear, that nothing but the immediate loss of her foot could save her life. At first she said, she had much rather die; but on my father's persuasions (in whose power it was to bring her to anything) she consented: but the operation threw her into agonies, which caused so high a fever, as could not be got the better of by all the means that were used. She kept her senses to the last: my father and I never left her, but sat by her bedside as long as she had any signs of life. As she knew our sufferings, and that losing her was as much as we were able to bear, she avoided saying anything tender, lest she should add to our sorrows; but in her looks we read what any one, who had less consideration, and yet had a mind capable of feeling, would have said. We saw her struggling with herself to keep down, and prevent the utterance of what was always uppermost in her thoughts, her tenderness for her husband and children. Only one day, when I was left alone with her, she went so far as to say, 'Camilla, make it the business of your life to obey and please your father; if you should live to see him an old man, return him that care by which he has supported your infancy; cherish your brother's love. Do not remember me to afflict yourself; but only follow my example in your behaviour to the man who has been so good to us both.' She saw me ready to burst, and said no more; but soon after expired, without ever showing the least emotion of fear; she looked forward with pleasure instead of terror, and died with the same resolution of mind which had conducted her through all the various scenes of this life.

"Thus I lost the best of mothers, and from her loss I date all the miseries of my life. My father at first was like one distracted; but as soon as the first sallies of his grief were abated, his good sense came in to his assistance; and, by the help of the many arguments his understanding suggested to him, he calmed his mind, and in a great measure overcame his affliction; though, like Macduff, 'he could not but remember such things were, and were most dear to him;' yet he bore the common fate of mortals, of losing what they are fond of, with true greatness of mind, of which no man had a larger share. I was too young to be so philosophical; the only motive I had to command myself, was the fear of hurting my father; and that indeed was sufficient to make me do or suffer anything; for I loved him with inexpressible fondness, and did not want the addition of my mother's last command to make me obey him, for it was all the pleasure I had in life. He had no occasion to tell me what to do, for I watched his very looks, by them found out his will, and in the performing it employed all my time. I resolved never to marry, for it was impossible for me to change ray situation for a happier; for, in my opinion, to live with any one we love, and find that every action we do is pleasing to them, is the height of human felicity.

"My brother continued to write to us, and I had the satisfaction of hearing he was m health; and found, by all his letters, his affections were as strong to me as when we were in our first infancy. He would sometimes send for money a little faster than my father thought convenient; upon which he would say to me, 'This brother of yours is so extravagant, I don't know how I shall do to support him.' But I have since thought this was only done to try me, and to hear me plead for him, which I always did with all the little rhetoric I was mistress of; so that by this means he contrived to give me the utmost pleasure, in letting me believe I procured my brother what he wanted. So indulgent was this parent, that he used every art he was master of, to give me all the pleasing sensations that arise from generosity and delicacy.

"As I constantly lived with him, and was solicitous in my attendance on him, though he was very impartial, yet I believe I was something his favourite; but I always made use of that favour rather for my brother's advantage than my own. I have heard of women living at home with their fathers, and using all kind of art to make them hate their brothers, in hopes by that means to better their own fortunes; but to me it is surprising, for I could never have forgiven myself, if I could once have reflected that I had ever done my dear Valentine any injury, or omitted any opportunity of serving him. I lived on in this state, in which I had nothing to wish but my mother alive again, nor anything to regret but her loss.

"I had a companion in a young woman in the neighbourhood, who had more wit and vivacity than any woman I ever knew; and we spent our time, when my father was in his study, or gone abroad, in little innocent amusements, suitable to girls of our age. In this manner did I live till I was eighteen; happy had it been for me, if my lifa had ended there; I should then have escaped all those scenes of misery I have since suffered. I lost my companion: for her father dying, and leaving her in bad circumstances, she went to live with a lady of fashion, who took a great fancy to her. This was some uneasiness to me; however, I could not be miserable, while my father was happy and fond of me.

"But on a sudden I observed he turned quite thoughtful and melancholy; I grew very uneasy at it, and took the liberty one day to ask him the cause of it; and begged, if I did anything he disliked, he would let me know it, that I might take care to avoid it for the future. He looked at me with an air of the greatest tenderness, and said, 'My dear child, how can you suspect you ever offend me? No! I am more and more pleased every day with your conduct, which is much above what I ever saw in a person of your years; nay, indeed, a man of the greatest understanding would not be ashamed of your conversation.' I cannot deny but this acknowledgment from one of his judgment, had some effect on my vanity; but I can sincerely say, that the greatest joy I had in it, was owing to the thoughts of my father's partiality and fondness for me. 'No, on the contrary,' continued he, 'my love of you is the cause of my uneasiness; for I have let a passion unawares steal on me, which I am afraid will be to your disadvantage; for although with economy I am able to support you and your brother in a tolerable manner, yet my fortune is not large; and if I should marry, and have an increase of family, it might injure you.'

"'The object of this passion is Livia, the daughter of ———: her fortune must be small; for almost all the estate in the family is gone to the eldest son; who, as he is married, and has children of his own, cannot be expected to do much for her.' I was overcome with this goodness, and desired him not to have any consideration for me; and as for my brother, I was certain that his sentiments would concur with mine, in giving up everything to his father's happiness, and I would by all means have him gratify his passion; for I should hate myself, if I thought I was a burden, rather than a pleasure to him. That if we lived on less, we might be contented; which it was impossible for us to be, whilst he was uneasy. During the time I was speaking, I saw the most lively joy in his eyes: he was happy that I approved his passion; and I, to find what I said was agreeable to him.

"The next day he sent for me into his chamber, and told me he had been thinking on what I had said concerning the reasonableness of his indulging himself with respect to Livia; he really believed I was in the right; that he had turned it in his mind every way, and found, that as he could not be easy without her, it would be more for all our advantages that he should have her. In short, he presently proved, that the most prudent and wisest thing he could do was to marry her. It was no hard matter for him to make me believe whatever he pleased; for I had so implicit a faith in what he said, that his bare affection was to me the strongest proof. But I have often since reflected, that it is a great misfortune that a good understanding, when it is accompanied with a very strong imagination, only makes people judge right, where their own inclinations are not concerned; but when once any violent passion interposes, it serves only to hide and gloss over all bad consequences that attend the gratification of that passion, and removes difficulties out of the way to a man's own destruction; which a person of less sense, and a cooler fancy, would never be able to accomplish: for strength of either mind or body is useful only as it is employed.—But I ask pardon, sir, for troubling you with my remarks, and will proceed in my story, if you are not tired with it."

David begged her not to be afraid of that; for, by what he had heard already, he was but the more curious to know what remained; and as to her remarks, he desired her always to tell him what she felt and thought on every incident which befell her; for nothing could give him greater pleasure, as he was sure, by what she had hitherto expressed, her sentiments were just on all occasions. Camilla thanked him for the favourable construction he put on her thoughts, and resumed her story.

"My father then told me he would send for my brother home, for he had now finished his studies, and he knew nothing would be so agreeable to us both as to be together: his melancholy was dispersed, the struggle was over; he had fixed it in his mind, it was right for him to do what his inclination prompted him to, and I was perfectly satisfied with it; for a cloud on his countenance was the greatest pain I could suffer: and now I saw him cheerful, I thought that cheerfulness could not be bought too dear. Valentine came home immediately on my father's summons, and his sentiments all perfectly agreed with mine.

"My father introduced me to Livia, and we soon became intimate; she appeared very fond of me, and I found her so agreeable, that I was inclined to like her as much as my father could wish. He asked me my opinion of her; I told him I thought she seemed a reasonable woman, and I did not doubt but she would make a very good wife, and be contented to live in the manner his circumstances could afford. He replied, with a sort of ecstasy, that if he had wanted any proofs of my judgment, what I had now said of Livia could not fail of convincing him of it. Although he was near fifty, yet was his person very agreeable, and he had such an eternal fund of entertainment in his conversation, that all the world coveted his company. It was no wonder Livia was pleased with his addresses, and withstood them no longer than was just necessary to keep up the ceremonies appointed by custom for women in such cases, when they were married to the entire satisfaction of all parties. Valentine paid his mother the respect due to her; and, for my part, I really liked Livia from inclination: but, as I found she was the object which gave the greatest pleasure to the man in the world I most loved, and to whom I owed all the duty I was capable of paying, I thought I could never do enough to oblige her. My father grew every day fonder and fonder of his wife; and now, sir, I believe you will think the happiness of this little family could admit of no addition.

"I thought so at that time, and if the opinion I then had of Livia could have been supported with any colour of reason, I should never have known a wish beyond what I then enjoyed. But, perhaps, sir, if you have not had a great deal of experience in the world, you may be yet to learn, that there are women, who, in order to prove their love to their husbands, take an utter aversion to everything that belongs to them. This was my unhappy case: the woman whom I thought my best friend, from the moment she became my mother, turned my enemy, only because my father was fond of me; for I am certain she never had any other reason for a conduct like her's.

"The first step she took, was to assume an air of forced civility, instead of that familiarity, which, from the beginning of our short acquaintance, we had been used to treat each other with, and throw me at a distance; for, as Shakespeare says, 'When hot love grows cold, it useth an enforced ceremony.' But in this she for some time lost her aim; for I knew so little of the world, I took it for a mark, that she was resolved, as she was got into a character of life so much hated (and, I am afraid, too often deservedly) as that of a mother-in-law, that the world should say she paid me rather more than less respect than before, I was not so well pleased with this behaviour as I should have been, had she continued her former manner; but, however, as I mistook the motive of her actions, I did not esteem her the less.

"But this did not last long; she went on from one thing to another, till it was impossible, with all my partiality for her, to be deceived any longer; and I shall never be ashamed to own, it was with great difficulty my eyes were opened enough to see her in the true light: for I shall always esteem young people, who are apt to be suspicous, especially of their friends, to be incapable of possessing real goodness. They may, if they please, boast their judgement; but I cannot help imputing it more to the badness of their hearts, than to the goodness of their heads."

David, who never suspected anybody without the strongest proofs, very much applauded Camilla's judgement, and concurred with her in her sentiments. And she proceeded as follows—

"You will be amazed, sir, to find all the guile and cunning this woman made use of, to make me and Valentine hated by my father. I suppose it must be, because she thought her interest incompatible with ours; and that the only way to spend all her husband's fortune, was to make him believe we were his greatest enemies. She was quite different from the opinion I had formed of her; for instead of being contented with what my father could afford, she never though anything extravagant enough; buying jewels, going to public places, everything that was to spend the most money, was her chief delight; and the only article in which she ever thought of saving, was in denying my brother and me what we wanted. But this she never did openly; for whatever was proposed for us, she always came very gladly into. The method she took to disappoint us, was, that by her conduct, money soon became very scarce; for she spent all he could procure, and by that means we were obliged to go without it. She would condescend to such mean arts, that had I not been witness of it, I could not have believed any human creature could have been capable of them, I have known her several times bring in bills to my father, where she has set down things for us we never had, in order to make him think she had a great affection for us, that he might esteem her the more; and when to our generosity she owed the success of her schemes, for we neither of us would discover anything to make my father uneasy, she then exulted in the thoughts of her great sense, and applauded her own understanding: for she was wise enough to mistake a low cunning, and such little mean arts, as people who had any understanding could never submit to, for sense. I soon found out that all the softness and tenderness I once imagined her possessed of, was entirely owing to her person; the symmetry and proportion of which gave so pleasing an air to everything she said or did, that nothing but envy could have prevented her beholders from being prejudiced in her favour.

"I often thought, could she have beheld herself in the goddess of justice's mirror of truth, as it is described in that beautiful vision in the Tatler, she would have loathed and detested, as much as she now admired, herself. Her fine chestnut-brown hair, which flowed in natural ringlets round her neck, was it to have represented the strings that held her heart, must have become as harsh and unphable as the stiffest cord; her large blue eyes, which now seemed to speak the softness of a soul replete with goodness, had they on a sudden, by the irresistible power of a goddess' command, been forced to confess the truth, would have lost all their amiableness, and have looked askew an hundred ways at once, to denote the many little plots she was forming to do mischief; her skin would have become black and hard, as an emblem of her mind; her limbs distorted; and her nails would have been changed into crooked talons, which, however, should have had power to think in such a manner as that the unwary might come near enough, without suspicion, to be got into her clutches. Not a metamorphosis in all Ovid could be more surprising than hers would have been, was this mirror of truth to have been held to her. I have really shuddered with horror as the image my own fancy has presented me; and notwithstanding all her cruelty to me, (nay, what is much more, to my dear Valentine) my indignation never could rise so high as to wish her the punishment to see herself in this glass, unless it could have been means of her amendment.

"She never abused us; but found means to work on our tempers in such a manner, as in my father's sight always to make us appear in the wrong. Sha knew I could not bear the least slight from any one loved without distraction, and therefore she would contrive, by all the methods she could invent, touch me in that tender point, and to raise me into such a height of passion, as might make me behave in a manner to be condemned by my father. Valentine seldom said anything; he bore all with patience; but unless he too would have joined in tormenting me, he was never to be forgiven; besides, ours was looked on by her as a common interest, and he was as great an offence to her sight as I was. When she had worked me up to a pitch, in which perhaps I might drop an unguarded word, she was then in her kingdom; for as she was cool, and all on her side was design, she knew how to play her part. She was always sorry I was so passionate; as to her, she loved me so well, she could put up with anything from me; but as she was my father's wife, she thought it a disrespect to him, and she could not bear the thoughts of any one's treating him otherwise than they ought to do, and as she was sure he deserved from everybody! On such occasions he sat all the while wondering and admiring at her goodness, and blessing himself at the great love he saw she had for him. I was astonished at her giving things that turn, and she triumphed in finding how easily she could make everything go to her wish; but still she had not done, she must do acts of supererogation, and interceded with my father not to be angry with me, for she really believed it was only passion. He had not yet got so much the better of the long affection he had for me, but he was glad to find any excuse to be reconciled to me.

"Thus she flattered him, by engaging him to follow his own inclinations, at the same time that she displayed her own goodness. By means like these, she increased his esteem for her, while she deserved his detestation; then she would come into the best humour in the world, and appear as if there was nothing more in it than an accidental dispute, which was all over; she would be so like her former self, that for several times she deceived me, and I began to imagine I fancied things which had no existence but in my own brains. Thus barbarously she often took pains to pull me off the rack, only that she might have the pleasure, when I was almost healed and well, to torture me again: for to behave inconsistently, sometimes well, and sometimes ill, is the greatest curse a mind disposed to love can ever meet with.

"My brother and I looked with horror on the consequences of the expensive sort of life Livia was drawing her husband into; and yet, as we saw it impossible to prevent it, we commanded ourselves enough to be silent. But this was not sufficient; the dread we had of what our father would be brought to, broke out into our countenances in spite of any resolutions we could form to the contrary. This she insinuated was owing to selfishness in us, and a fear lest we should have the less for what she spent. As my father could not resist giving way to her desires in every respect, and observed our disapprobation of it in our faces, he began to look upon us as bars to his pleasures, and the reproachers of his actions; which by degrees lessened his affection for us in such a manner, that he esteemed us rather as his enemies than his children.

"Thus my father's house, which used to be my asylum from all cares, and the comfort of my life, was converted by this woman's management into my greatest torment; and my condition was as miserable as a person's would be who had lost his best friend he had in the world, and was to be haunted hourly by his ghost; and that not in the pleasing form in which he used to place his delight, but with a face made grim with death, and furious with some perturbation of spirit. Such now was my father become to me, instead of that kind, that fond, that partial approver of everything I said or did; my every action was displeasing to him; and he never saw me, but his looks expressed that anger and dislike which pierced me to the soul; whatever thing I wanted, was too much for me; and though I denied myself everything but the bare necessaries of life, yet all expense of the family was imputed to me and my brother. All the servants in the house finding it their interest to be as disobliging as they could to us, took care not to be too officious in serving us. Such mercenary wretches were below my notice ; but yet their behaviour was shocking to me, as it was one of the proofs of the decay of my father's love."

David here interrupted her, by saying that she was very much in the right, for there was nothing so strong a proof that the master of a house has no regard for us, as the constant misbehaviour of his servants towards us; he had had the melancholy experience of it; but he thought she was mistaken in thinking any station could made people below her notice; for as to him, there was nothing in life he attended to more earnestly than the behaviour of those men, whose want of education shewed more openly, and with less disguise, what their natures were; indeed, hitherto his observations of that kind had given but a melancholy prospect. His eyes expressed so much sorrow, as he spoke this, and his mind appeared so affected, that Camilla gave him a thousand thanks for the good-natured part he took in her afflictions, and said she would now take leave of him, it being late, and to-morrow would resume her story.

END OF THE SECOND BOOK