The Hand of Destiny; or, the Life of Marianne ... Translated by Sir Gilbert Campbell, Bart

Front matter

HAND«C0ESTDIY; OR, * THE LIFE OF MARIANNE. BY P. C . DE CHAMBLET DE MARIVAUX. 0$&.'- TRANSLATED BY ■pjl |5lR ClLBEMjCAMPBELL,BArvr Do not let your Child Die. £owg*s,i-.Colds. Bronchitis. « > g FENNINGS g L t CttlLDBEWS POWHERS fc J™ll;„„ « J » LLl for ChUdren Clitttne th-dr Teeth. To prevent JJ rjouchs Colds, AsthmaS, &.C. H t™ Do pot contain CalomeLOpium. Morphia, or^ny- ~ _So!d m Sorrel at rt. t^d. *od a*. 9d., with diroc- T thin**-rir*ij_rr*ous to a tender babe. .__oh_. Sent pott free for 1-5 stamps. Direct to A. "T ••W Sold In Stamped Boirrrs at IS. i|d. and rr*s *>*:. JjJ '.FSNNINGS. Wett Cowel. I.W. V_J J7 (jteat savini'l,_.«itb soB directions .Sent post free , ' Ttl_. iar»est sue Boaes, as. gd. (JS sterops. post 2 C/J f.. ,5 Stamps. _ Direct to ALFRED FliNNiNr.s. "- ft_.c) _„„{,•„, t[lree times the quantity of the small "r m WREA*o"FEi^INGS EVERY MOTHERS «) bo*"*_., ~„„mr_..

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Book I

When I narrated to you some of the events of my life, I did not expect, my dear friend, that you would have begged me to write them out in all their entirety, and to make a printed book of them. It is true that my story is a strange one, but I fear that I shall spoil it, if I attempt to write it ; for from whence shall I learn the correct style of composition ? It is quite true that in society I have passed for a wit, but, my dear, I firmly believe that that species of wit, though good enough for conversation, will not excite much attention when written. ADRIFT ! Before giving this history to the public, I must mention how it came into my possession. Six months back I purchased a country house a few miles /rom Rennes, which during the last thirty years had passed through the hands of five or six different persons.

I desired to make some alterations in one of the principal apartments, and in a cupboard sunk in the thickness of the wall the work men discovered a manuscript book contain ing the following memoirs, the whole of it being in a woman's handwriting. It was brought to me, and I, and tlie friends who were staying with me at the lime, perused it ; and ever since that they have not ceased to importune me to have it printed. I have no objection, as the memoirs do not compromise any one. Forty years have elapsed since they were written, as I gather from the date at the conclusion of the manuscript : I have changed the names of the persons who are spoken of in it, and they are dead. There was nothing particular said about them, but I thought that it was better to act as I have done, and to suppress their names.

And that is all that I have to say. This short intro duction appeared to me to be necessary, and I have written it to the best of my ability, but I have no talentfor writing, and this is the first time that I have ever appeared in print. We pretty women (for I used to rank with them formerly) get credit for more wit than we really possess, when we have even a little portion. Men, whilst listening to our con versation, do not estimate it at its correct value, whilst they are listening they arc also looking at us, and what we say, gains by what they see. I recollect a very pretty woman whose conversational powers were highly praised. No one in society could come near her ; Vivacity ancl talent spoke in her, and good judges could not praise her sufficiently. Well, she had an attack of small-pox, and was terribly disfigured.

When the poor woman again appeared in the world, every one spoke of her as a talkative bore. You can imagine, then, how much of her wit was owing to her personal charms. The praises lavished upon me may be due to the same source. 1 recollect the expression of my eyes in those days, and believe that they had a great deal to do with my reputation for cleverness. Many a time have I been sur prised at the things that I said, which, had they not been accompanied by a roguish smile, would have passed unnoticed ; and if the small-pox had at any moment stepped in And now let us return to tlie memoirs. It is a woman who tells the story of her life. It is the " Life of Marianne " — for so she terms herself at the commencement of her story ; she claims also to be a countess, and addresses one of her friends, whose name she leaves blank, and that is all. * * * * * ADRIFT! position, crying out loudly, but unable to extricate myself.

Remember that amongst those killed were two women, one about twenty years of age, very handsome, the other about forty— the the first fashionably dressed, the other in the garb of a waiting-woman. If one of the two were my mother, it was more likely to be the young well-dressed lady, for it was even asserted that I resembled her a little in features — at least so said those who saw the dead woman and myself to gether ; besides, I was dressed too well to be considered the child of a waiting-woman. I forgot to mention that a footman who was one of the passengers in the coach had fled across the fields wounded, and had fallen from loss of blood at the entrance of a neighbouring village, where he died before he had time to say in whose service he was ; all that they could draw from him was that his master ancl his mistress had been murdered, which gave them no information.

I tell you frankly that I should have lost a great deal of my reputation as a wit. For example, a month has hardly elapsed since you spoke to me concerning a certain day (twelve years have passed since that day) when at dinner every one was praising my vivacity, when the fact is that I was only giddy. Will you believe me when I tell you that I have often acted thus, to see how far the deceitfulness of men to our sex would carry them ? Everything succeeded, but I assure you the trash that I talked would, had it have come from the mouth of a plain woman, been considered a warrant for con signment to a lunatic asylum ; and perhaps I had need to be amiable in all that I said, for at this moment, now that my charms have passed away, I notice that I am looked upon as quite an ordinary mortal ; and yet I am more pleased with myself that ever I was before.

But since you wish me to write the story of my life, and you claim the fulfilment of my promise, in memory of our friendship you shall be satisfied, for I would much rather weary than refuse you. But just before this I was speaking of style. I really do not know in what it con sists. What must one do to get one ? Is what I see of it in booksgood? If so, why is it that I dislike it so much ? You say the style of my correspondence is passable ; I will endeavour to adopt it in this history. Do not forget that you have given your word never to divulge who I am. I wish to remain unknown to all save to you. Fifteen years ago, I did not know whether the blood in my veins was noble or plebeian, whether I was legitimate or a bastard. This commencement may seem a little too much like a romance ; I am not, however, writing one, but am telling you the exact truth as I learnt it from those who brought me up.

Whilst I was screaming under the body of the dead woman, five or sis officers who were riding post passed by, and seeing several dead bodies lying near a stationary coach, with a child screaming inside it, halted at the terrible sight, whether from the morbid seeling of curiosity which shocking scenes often excite, or to see who the child was that was crying, and render it assistance. Looking into the carriage they saw a murdered man, and then the dead woman lying across, the doorway, where, judging from the sound of my cries, I also must be. Some of them, as I afterwards heard, wished to leave the spot, but one, moved by compassion for me, stopped them, and, dis mounting from his horse, threw back the door. A fresh scene of horror was disclosed to them ; my cheek lay against that of the dead lady, and I was inundated with her blood.

They pushed aside the bleeding body, and drew me from underneath it. After that it was a question what to do with me, and where to put me. They saw in the distance a little village, to which they decided to carry me, and gave me to one of their servants, who wrapped me up in his cloak. Their intention was to place me in the hands of the priest of the parish, so that he might appoint some one to take charge of me ; but the priest, to whose residence they were guided by the villagers, had gone out to pay a visit to one of his brethren, and his sister only was at home. She was a very pious woman, and I excited so much pity in her breast, that she decided to take charge of me until the return of he* brothsr. A A stage coach running to Bourdeaux was attacked by robbers on the high-road : two of the inside passengers resisted, and wounded one of their assailants, but in the end they were killed with three other persons ; the coachman and postillion also lost their lives, and there was no one left in the carriage but a canon of Seus and myself, whose age was between two and three years.

The canon made his escape, whilst I fell across the door uttering terrified cries, and half stifled by the body of a wounded woman, who was trying to save herself, but fell back dead in the effort, crushing me beneath her. The horses did not move, and I remained fully a quarter of an hour in this painful ADRIFT! 9 report of the occurrence was then drawn up by the Syndic of the village. My rescuers generously made a collection amongst themselves, and putting the money into a purse, handed it to the priest's sister for my future use and benefit ; they then pro ceeded on their way. The priest's sister gave me all this infor mation which I am now imparting to you. As you read this I am sure you will shudder. Who at the entrance of life has experienced a more strange and terrible disaster ? Happily I did not feel it ; at two years of age such misfortunes fall lightly upon us.

I do not tell you what became of the coach, or what they did with the murdered travellers — these are matters which do not bear upon my story. should give me the handsomest present, or the most becoming dress. The priest, who though only a humble village priest was a man of very good family, often said that in all the kindnesses that these ladies showed me, he had never heard them use the word charity ; it was too harsh an expression, and one ill in accordance with the sentiments that they experienced. Thus, when they alluded to me they never said the little girl ; it was always that amiable child. When the question of my birth was raised, it was always stated that my parents were foreigners of high distinction : it could not possibly be otherwise — they knew it as if they had seen the proofs ; and this was so often repeated that people began really to believe it, quite forgetting that they themselves had first started the report.

But everything wears itself out in time, fine feelings among the rest. When my ad venture was not so fresh in their minds, it imprinted itself less vividly on their imagina tion. The fact of seeing me every day dissi pated those fantasies which had been of such benefit to me, and weakened the pleasure that they had in loving me. It had only been a passing fancy after all, and at the end of six months I was nothing but a poor orphan girl, and the word charity was no longer avoided — indeed they said that I de served plenty of it ; and altogether I should have been much to be pitied, had it not been for the tenderness which the priest and his sister displayed towards me. The sister brought me up as if I had been her own child. I have already told you that both she and her brother belonged to a very good family, but they had lost all their property by a lawsuit, and he had taken refuge in this quiet retreat, where his sister had afterwards joined him, for they were both much attached to each other.

Three or four days afterwards some of the robbers were captured, and, to fill up the cup of my misfortune to the brim, nothing was found in the clothes of the persons who had been murdered that would connect me with any one of them. The registry in which the names of travellers are always inserted was next searched, but that again proved useless. They found out by it who every one was with the exception of a lady and gentleman whose foreign name furnished no clue to their identity ; perhaps even it was an assumed one. The register only showed that they had secured five places, three for themselves and a little girl, and one for a lady's-maid and a footman, both of whom had been murdered. And so my birth was shrouded in mystery, and I had nothing to look to but the charity of the universe. My great misfortune brought much help to the priest's house, where I still remained, for he had willingly permitted his sister to retain me.

Visitors came to me from all the neighbourhood round. Every one wished to see what I was like : my face had become an object of curiosity, for they seemed to imagine that some traces of my adventure would be imprinted on my features. There was an air of romance about me which took their fancy. I was pretty, I had an aristocratic air ; you can easily imagine how this helped me, and how refined and delicate it rendered the feeling that was expressed for me. A dethroned princess would not have been treated with more scrupulous attention ; there was as much respect as affection dis played towards me. The ladies especially took more interest in me than I can possibly describe ; there was a spirit of rivalry amongst them as to who Usually the niece or si-,_y of the priest is a coarse, commonplace woman, but little removed from a peasant.

But this lady was not at all of that stamp, being indued with much good sense and courtesy, and, above all, of irreproachable morals. I can often recollect seeing the tears start to her eyes as she remembered my sad posi tion ; and it is a fact that in my turn I felt for her all the love and affection that a child feels for its mother. I will confess also that I had many winning ways, and was quite unlike an ordinary child. I was sweet tempered, gay, had a graceful manner, a rapid appreciation, and above all a face which promised to be beautiful — a promise ADRIFT! 10 but began sobbing with all my strength. This affected them more than ever. " Marianne, "Jsaid the good man, coming up to me, "you shall go with my sister; it is for your good, and that is wdiat must be. We have taken the place of the parents that God has not thought fit for you to know, any more than the rest of your relations.

Never, therefore, do anything without consulting us as long as we live ; and if my sister should leave you in Paris, write to us whenever you have need of our advice, and we will never fail you." which I think it has kept. I will pass over my childhood, and the education that I received ; I was taught to manufacture all kinds of ladies' clothes, a knowledge which served me well later on in life. I was fifteen years of age, more or less (though of course there may have been a mistake), when a relation of the priest, who had no heirs save himself and his sister, wrote from Paris to say that he was danger ously ill, and begged one or other of them to hasten to him if they wished to see him before he died. The priest was too deeply attached lo his flock to leave it, and begged his sister to go.

At first she was disinclined to take me with her ; but the day before her departure, seeing how sad I looked, and how constantly I sighed: "Marianne," said she, "since you dread my absence so much, console yourself; I have no wish to leave you, and I hope that my brother has the same desire. Indeed I have been making some plans for you ; I wish you to enter into some business, for it is time for you to think of becoming something. We, both my brother and I, will aid and assist you as long as we live, without counting what we shall leave you at our death ; but that will not be sufficient, for we cannot leave you much. The relation whom I am going to see, and whose heirs we are, is not I believe very wealthy, so that you must choose some business in which to establish yourself. I tell you this because you are now of an age to understand matters ; and my dear Marianne, before I die I hope to see you married to some worthy man, or at any rate in a situation that will prove advantageous to you : it is only right and just that I should have this comfort."

When she had finished I threw myself into her arms, and we both wept. She was the best person that I have ever known, and for my part I had a tender heart, and I have one still. I will not repeat to you all that he said to me before we parted ; for I can well imagine that all these minute details of my more youthful years weary you, as they are not very interesting, and I am slow in coming to other matters. I have a great deal to say, and it shows how much I love you to make so long a story of it. I am going to blacken a great deal of paper, but I must not think of that — it is only used as a warning to my idleness ; so let me get on. The priest's sister and I started on our journey, and we arrived in Paris, which we had to pass through entirely to get to the house of her relative of whom I have spoken.

I cannot tell you what my feelings were on first seeing this mighty city, with its myriads of noises, its inhabitants, and its streets. For me it was like the Empire of the Moon. I could recollect nothing ; I went about, I opened my eyes, I was astonished, and that was all. I enjoyed the length of the road, I enjoyed my surprises, I was overjoyed to find myself there. I breathed an air which raised my spirits; there was a sweet sympathy between my imagination and the objects that I saw, and I guessed that I could draw from all these things a large fund ofenjoyment, for it seemed to me that pleasure lived in the very midst of all this. You see that here the true instinct of thc woman was shadowed forth, prophetic of all the adventures that she was afterwards to pass through. Destiny did not delay long in announcing to me their commencement : in the life of a woman like me, it is necessary lo speak of destiny.

The relation whom we had come to see was dead when we arrived; he had, we were informed, expired nearly four hours before our arrival. This was not all : they had put seals on all his property, for, having been in business, it was asserted that he had died insolvent. I will not say how his creditors attempted to prove this assertion, as I have forgotten the details. All I know is that we could find no shelter at his house as everything had The priest entered at this moment. "What is it?" asked he of his sister ; " I think that Marianne has been weeping." She then explained to him our conversa tion, and the design that she had formed of taking me to Paris with her. " I like the plan well enough," replied he, "but if she remains there we shall not see her any more, and that would give me great pain, for I love the poor child ; we have brought her up from childhood.

I am grow ing very old, and it will be perhaps for ever that I shall say good-bye." Nothing, as you see, could be more touch ing than this interview. I made no reply, ADRIFT! 11 been seized ; and after many meetings and conversations of a business nature which were prolonged over a period of three or four months, it was clearly shown to us that there was no chance of our receiving the smallest fraction of his property, and that it was in itself not large enough to cover the outstand ing debts. Had we not had a sine journey for nothing? The priest's sister was so bitterly disappointed, lhat she was taken ill at the inn where we had been compelled to take refuge. Alas ! it was on my account that she experienced such bitter grief; she had hoped that this heritage would have put her in a position to have done something for me, and now she had spent a great deal of money upon a useless journey ; and what she had left was daily diminishing, whilst her brother, who had nothing but the slender revenues of his cure to depend on, was only able to send her a very moderate sum ; and, lo complete her misfortunes, she was now taken ill.

How sad ! I used to hear her sighing ; never had this poor woman loved me so much as she did when she realized that I was more of an object of pity than before. I lavished my caresses upon her, and they were not feigned ones, for I was full of love for her. My ! heart was more delicate and more advanced than my intellect, although this latter was daily increasing. As you can well believe, she had kept her brother informed regarding events ; and as there are times when misfortune follows mis tune with incredible fury, the poor man, whilst paying a visit to one of his brethren, met with a severe fall, some six weeks after our departure — a serious accident for a man of his advanced years. The sorrowful tidings that he received from us caused him to fall into a state of extreme mental weakness, which compelled him to nominate a successor.

He had barely time to send us a little more money, and then he passed into a state of imbecility with no hope of ultimate recovery. I shudder even now as I think of these events. Virtue must be looked upon as not suitable to this earth, for it is not suffered to exist there for a lengthened period. The recovery of his sister was despaired of when she learned of his accident, for on reading the letter she gave a loud cry, and ! sainted away. Bathed in tears, I called for help. She recovered in time, but she did not shed a tear. From that moment she dis played a courageous resignation, her heart became firmer, and it was no longer a feverish anxiety for my suture that she displayed, but a virtuous tenderness which entrusted me with confidence into the hands of Him in whose disposal everything is.

When she had recovered from her sorrow, she called me lo her side, and as soon as we were alone addressed me. Permit me, my dear friend, to tell you a portion of what she said to me. The thought of it is still dear to me, and they were the last words that I ever heard from her. " Marianne," said she, " I have no longer a brother ; for though he may not yet be actually dead, still he is practically so to you and I. 1 feel also that you will soon lose me too ; but it is the will of Heaven, and that must console you for the position in which I leave you, for, sad as it is, it may have ils ends of which I am ignorant. Per haps I shall yet linger on for some time ; perhaps I shall die in the next state of weak ness into which I may fall." (Alas ! she spoke but too truly.) " I dare not put into your hands the money that I still possess — you are too young, and would be cheated ; but I will place it in the hands of the holy man who visits my sick bed, and will beg of him to dispose of it wisely for your future benefit.

He lives close by, and if he does not come to-day, you must go and seek him to-morrow, that I may speak to him. After taking this last precaution for your welfare, I can only add one thing more, and that is, always strive to act rightly. I have educated you in the love of virtue, and if you retain all that you have been taught, you will, Mari anne, be the heiress of the greatest treasure that it is in my power to leave to you, for with it your soul will be enriched. It is true, my child, that this will not prevent you from being poor in worldly wealth, and that you will not have a hard struggle for the means of existence ; but perhaps Heaven will reward goodness even in this world. Vir tuous people are rare, but those who esteem virtue in others are not so. Besides, in how many occasions in life are not strictly honest and God-fearing people required.

For example, every one wishes to marry a virtuous girl ; even if she have nothing but her virtue for her dower, no man is dishonoured in espousing her. And so, dear girl, you will one day find your right station in life ; and, besides, virtue is so sweet and so consolatory to the hearts of those who truly possess it. And even if you are always poor, poverty en dures but for a time, for life is so short. Men who jeer the most at virtue treat with scorn a woman who permits herself to be led astray; they feel that they have acquired the right lo be insolent to her, they punish her for her ADRIFT! 12 degree of agony can it suffer ? I will confess to you that I experienced this agony in all its power, and that even in after life I was not free from its pangs, and it is this that has made me appreciate the peaceful retreat in which I now am.