The History and Remarkable Life of the Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack. Defoe Daniel
The History and Remarkable Life of the Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack
"This poor child is enough to make a man weep for the miseries of human nature, and be thankful for himself; he puts tears into my eyes." "And into mine too," says the other.
"Well, but hark ye, Jacque," says the first gentleman, "do they give you no money when they send you of errands?"
"They give me victuals," said I, "and that's better."
"But what," says he, "do you do for clothes?"
"They give me sometimes old things," said I, "such as they have to spare."
"Why, you have never a shirt on, I believe," said he, "have you?"
"No; I never had a shirt," said I, "since my nurse died."
"How long ago is that?" said he.
"Six winters, when this is out," said I.
"Why, how old are you?" said he.
"I can't tell," said I.
"Well," says the gentleman, "now you have this money, won't you buy some clothes and a shirt with some of it?"
"Yes," said I, "I would buy some clothes."
"And what will you do with the rest?"
"I can't tell," said I, and cried.
"What dost cry for, Jacque?" said he.
"I am afraid," said I, and cried still.
"What art afraid of?"
"They will know I have money."
"Well, and what then?"
"Then I must sleep no more in the warm glass house, and I shall be starved with cold. They will take away my money."
"But why must you sleep there no more?"
Here the gentlemen observed to one another how naturally anxiety and perplexity attend those that have money. "I warrant you," says the clerk, "when this poor boy had no money he slept all night in the straw, or on the warm ashes in the glass-house, as soundly and as void of care as it would be possible for any creature to do; but now, as soon as he has gotten money, the care of preserving it brings tears into his eyes and fear into his heart."
They asked me a great many questions more, to which I answered in my childish way as well as I could, but so as pleased them well enough. At last I was going away with a heavy pocket, and I assure you not a light heart, for I was so frighted with having so much money that I knew not what in the earth to do with myself. I went away, however, and walked a little way, but I could not tell what to do; so, after rambling two hours or thereabout, I went back again, and sat down at the gentleman's door, and there I cried as long as I had any moisture in my head to make tears of, but never knocked at the door.
I had not sat long, I suppose, but somebody belonging to the family got knowledge of it, and a maid came and talked to me, but I said little to her, only cried still. At length it came to the gentleman's ears. As for the merchant, he was gone. When the gentleman heard of me he called me in, and began to talk with me again, and asked me what I stayed for.
I told him I had not stayed there all that while, for I had been gone a great while, and was come again.
"Well," says he, "but what did you come again for?"
"I can't tell," says I.
"And what do you cry so for?" said he. "I hope you have not lost your money, have you?"
No, I told him, I had not lost it yet, but was afraid I should.
"And does that make you cry?" says he.
I told him yes, for I knew I should not be able to keep it, but they would cheat me of it, or they would kill me and take it away from me too.
"They?" says he. "Who? What sort of gangs of people art thou with?"
I told him they were all boys, but very wicked boys; "thieves and pickpockets," said I, "such as stole this letter-case-a sad pack; I can't abide them."
"Well, Jacque," said he, "what shall be done for thee? Will you leave it with me? Shall I keep it for you?"
"Yes," said I, "with all my heart, if you please."
"Come, then," says he, "give it me; and that you may be sure that I have it, and you shall have it honestly again, I'll give you a bill for it, and for the interest of it, and that you may keep safe enough. Nay," added he, "and if you lose it, or anybody takes it from you, none shall receive the money but your self, or any part of it."
I presently pulled out all the money, and gave it to him, only keeping about 15s. for myself to buy some clothes; and thus ended the conference between us on the first occasion, at least for the first time. Having thus secured my money to my full satisfaction, I was then perfectly easy, and accordingly the sad thoughts that afflicted my mind before began to vanish away.
This was enough to let any one see how all the sorrows and anxieties of men's lives come about; how they rise from their restless pushing at getting of money, and the restless cares of keeping it when they have got it. I that had nothing, and had not known what it was to have had anything, knew nothing of the care, either of getting or of keeping it; I wanted nothing, who wanted everything; I had no care, no concern about where I should get my victuals or how I should lodge; I knew not what money was, or what to do with it; and never knew what it was not to sleep till I had money to keep, and was afraid of losing it.
I had, without doubt, an opportunity at this time, if I had not been too foolish, and too much a child to speak for myself-I had an opportunity, I say, to have got into the service, or perhaps to be under some of the care and concern, of these gentlemen; for they seemed to be very fond of doing some thing for me, and were surprised at the innocence of my talk to them, as well as at the misery (as they thought it) of my condition.
But I acted indeed like a child; and leaving my money, as I have said, I never went near them for several years after. What course I took, and what befell me in that interval, has so much variety in it, and carries so much instruction in it, that it requires an account of it by itself.
The first happy chance that offered itself to me in the world was now over. I had got money, but I neither knew the value of it or the use of it; the way of living I had begun was so natural to me, I had no notion of bettering it; I had not so much as any desire of buying me any clothes-no, not so much as a shirt; and much less had I any thought of getting any other lodging than in the glass-house, and loitering about the streets, as I had done; for I knew no good, and had tasted no evil; that is to say, the life I had led being not evil in my account.
In this state of ignorance I returned to my really miserable life; so it was in itself, and was only not so to me because I did not understand how to judge of it, and had known no better.
My comrade that gave me back the bills, and who, if I had not pressed him, designed never to have restored them, never asked me what I had given me, but told me if they gave me anything it should be my own; for, as he said he would not run the venture of being seen in the restoring them, I deserved the reward if there was any; neither did he trouble his head with inquiring what I had, or whether I had anything or no; so my title to what I had got was clear.
I went now up and down just as I did before. I had money indeed in my pocket, but I let nobody know it. I went of errands cheerfully as before, and accepted of what anybody gave me with as much thankfulness as ever. The only difference that I made with myself was, that if I was hungry, and nobody employed me, or gave me anything to eat, I did not beg from door to door, as I did at first, but went to a boiling-house, as I said once before, and got a mess of broth and a piece of bread, price a halfpenny; very seldom any meat; or if I treated myself, it was a halfpennyworth of cheese; all which expense did not amount to above twopence or three pence a week; for, contrary to the usage of the rest of the tribe, I was extremely frugal, and I had not disposed of any of the guineas which I had at first; neither, as I said to the custom-house gentleman, could I tell what a guinea was made of, or what it was worth.
After I had been about a month thus, and had done nothing, my comrade, as I called him, came to me one morning. "Colonel Jacque," says he, "when shall you and I take a walk again?" "When you will," said I. "Have you got no business yet?" says he. "No," says I; and so one thing bringing on another, he told me