The poor mother, thinking him sincere, was very desirous of taking him at his word, as she believed it the only chance that was likely to offer for reclaiming him. She was persuaded in her own mind that his disposition was originally good, and if his affections could ever be fixed, she would fain think that he was capable of making any woman happy; and accordingly her best offices were employed with E. in his behalf. On the first introduction of the subject, the amiable girl shuddered involuntarily, as if she had unexpectedly been met by some furious beast of prey, which she apprehended would instantly destroy her; and although she had every desire to oblige the mother of F., she candidly declared that it was utterly impossible for her ever to look upon him again with favour.
The mother did not, however, despair that she would be made to relent by time and assiduity. But, while this negotiation was going on, F.’s attention was attracted by the wife of an industrious young man who rented a farm on his estate. They had been married only a few months, and F. describes the wife in the following glowing terms: “She was lovely as an angel, a perfect model of exquisite beauty, of unspotted purity, young and modest.” But virtues like these had lost all influence, unless to stimulate his guilty and savage appetite: to every present incitement E. herself was now postponed. Contrary to his expectations, her virtue was not to be easily shaken; but every repulse and difficulty he experienced only tended to stimulate him to greater exertions.
His thirst for money had now considerably abated, and he was fast emerging from that obscure solitude in which he had remained upwards of three years. His establishment was splendidly increased, his marriage with E. was seriously talked of, and his mother had prevailed on her to consent to see him; but, before the day fixed on for the interview had arrived, he suddenly disappeared, and it was soon discovered that the farmer’s wife was missing also. He had artfully managed to get the farmer into his power, by means of a pecuniary accommodation which he knew it would be impossible for him to discharge: he wrote an infamous letter soon after to the deluded man, desiring him not to be uneasy about the money, and scarcely noticing the deadly wound he had inflicted by seducing the object of his affections,—the partner of his cares,—the friend of his bosom.
In a few months he returned with her, and kept her in his house, a fine lady, for nearly a year. Her agreeable person and artless manner had hitherto kept alive in his bosom something like affection; but still, like every other with whom he conversed, she was ultimately doomed to experience his fickleness and neglect. He sent for the afflicted husband, and told him with unblushing effrontery, that he must take her back, as he himself was about to quit the country, and could no longer protect her. The unhappy man was about to remonstrate on the hardship of his case, when he was effectually silenced by the other blustering out, “You shall obey my directions, or rot in gaol.” He was forced to comply, and take to his cheerless home a contaminated wretch, whom he must ever behold with lacerated and abhorrent feelings.
Fortunately for those who were yet uncorrupted, this was the last exploit of F. in the neighbourhood to which he was indebted for his birth, and where, instead of bringing misery and ruin into the peaceful cottage, his rank, property, and influence, ought to have constituted him the legitimate local guardian of its general happiness, morality, and virtue. With frigid indifference he forsook all those whom he had debased by making them subservient to his lustful appetite, and set out for London in quest of new adventures.
In this great metropolis he instituted and organized a system of infamy and abomination for which it would not be easy to find an appropriate appellation: it was, in fact, a kind of repository for vice and crime, where the most odious scenes that could disgrace human nature were continually acting. Not less than five procurers, or agents, were employed; and the aggregate of human happiness slaughtered in this temple of hell is truly astonishing, and would hardly be believed. The concern became too extensive to be conducted by a single manager, and F. yielded to the pressing solicitations of an all-accomplished young gentleman to admit him as a partner. The expenses and pleasures were to be mutually shared between them, and their acquaintance became matured into as close a friendship as vice is capable of admitting.
The junior partner had four sisters in the bloom of life, to whom he introduced F., who, after several visits, expressed his partiality for the third, and begged permission to pay his addresses in an honourable way of course. His large fortune was a sufficient inducement for granting his request, and in somewhat less than five months he prevailed on her to elope with him to France. Her brother, who had no knowledge of the world, except what is to be acquired at a theatre, a gambling-house, or a sink of vice, would not at first believe that his “dear friend” F. could meditate any mischief against his family, much less the deadly injury that was apprehended by the more sober and experienced part of his relations. He said F. was an eccentric dog, fond of frolic, and he had no doubt was gone to Gretna Green, whence he would return with his sister, and marry her according to the established English custom. The mother of the young lady was by no means of this opinion, and urged her son to make further inquiries; which he did, and was soon convinced that he had overrated his “dear friend’s” generosity.
He lost no time in following the fugitives to France, and after a few days’ search found them in Paris. His first inquiry was, whether they had got married? To which being answered in the negative, he insisted on having that ceremony performed without delay. His dictatorial manner was exceedingly offensive to F., who declared the visit both unseasonable and impertinent, and, without further ceremony, ordered his quondam partner out of the house.
A duel the following morning was the consequence of this interview, and both were wounded. F. was from the first moment sensible that his wound was mortal, and, after lingering nearly fifteen months, the apprehension was confirmed by his death. During his confinement, remorse for his past crimes appears to have seized and constantly agitated him, till he became completely miserable, and life grew so insupportable to him, that it forced him more than once to meditate self-destruction.
The tradesman, whose daughter he had seduced and abandoned in Scotland, hearing of his situation, waited on him, and related to him the account of her sufferings and death, as stated before. The contrition of F. for the injury he had done the daughter, was exemplified by his conduct to her father, whom he raised above the power of want for the remainder of his life. He employed several persons to search for all the unhappy women whose innocence and peace of mind he had destroyed; and every one he discovered of that number had her sufferings alleviated, as far as pecuniary settlements were capable of soothing her sorrow. But this he considered very insufficient reparation, and his unhappiness till the last moment of his life was extreme.