Daniel Defoe - Mrs Veal

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
The thing is so rare in all its circumstances, and
so on good authority, that my reading and conversation has
not given me anything like it. It is fit to
gratify the most ingenious and serious inquirer. Missus Bargrave is
the person to whom Missus Veale appeared after her death.
She is my intimate friend, and I can vouch for
her reputation for these last fifteen or sixteen years on

(00:22):
my own knowledge, and I can confirm the good characters
she had from youth to the time of my acquaintance.
Though since this relation she is caluminated by some people
that are friends to the brother of the Missus Veale
who appeared, who think that the relation of disappearance to
be a reflection, and endeavor to do what they can
to blast Missus Bargrave's reputation and to laugh the story

(00:45):
out of countenance. But the circumstances thereof, and the cheerful
disposition of Missus Bargrave not worithstanding the unheard or ill
usage of a very wicked husband, and there is not
the least sign of dejection her face, nor did I
ever hear her let fall a desponding or murmuring expression
nay not when actually under her husband's barbarity, which I

(01:08):
have been witnessed to and several other persons of undoubted reputation.
Now you must know that Missus Veal was a maiden
gentlewoman of about thirty years of age, and for some
years last past had been troubled with fits which were
perceived to be coming on her by her going off
on her discourse very abruptly with some impertinence. She was

(01:28):
maintained by an older brother and kept his house in Dothur.
She was a very pious woman, and her brother a
very sober man to all appearance. But now he does
all he can to null or quash the story. Missus
Veal was intimately acquainted with Missus Bargrove from her childhood.
Missus Veale's circumstances were then mean. Her father did not

(01:50):
care of his children as he ought, so that they
were exposed to hardships, and Missus Bargrave in those days
had as an unkind father, though she wanted for neither
food nor clothing, whilst Missus Veale wanted for both, so
that it was in the power of Missus Bargrave to
be very much her friend, and in several instances which

(02:11):
mightly endeared Missus Veale in so much that she would
often say, Missus Bargrave, you are not only the best,
but the only friend I have in the world, and
in those circumstances of life shall ever dissolve my friendship.
They would often condole each other's a verse fortune, and
read together Drenaline, Court upon Death, and other good books,
and so like good Christian friends, they comforted each other

(02:34):
under their sorrow. Some time after Missus Veale's friends got
him a place in the custom House at Dover, which
occasioned Missus Veale by little and little to fall off
from her intimacy with Missus Bargrave, though there was never
any such thing as a quarrel, but an indiffancy came
on by degrees that at last Missus Bargrave had not
seen her in two years and a half, though above

(02:56):
a twelvemonth of the time Missus Bargrave had been absent
from Dover, and this last half year had been in Canterbury,
about two months at the time, dwelling in a house
of her own. In this house, on the eighth of
September last vis seventeen o five she was sitting alone
in the forenoon, thinking over her unfortunate life and arguing

(03:18):
to herself in due resignation to providence, though her condition
seemed hard, and said she I have been provided for hitherto,
and no doubt not, but I shall be still, and
I am well satisfied that my affliction shall end when
it is most fit for me. And then she took
up her sewing work, which she had no sooner done.

(03:38):
But she hears a knocking at the door. She went
to see who it was there, and it proved to
be missus Veale, her old friend in a riding habit.
At that moment of time, the clock struck twelve at noon.
Madam said missus Bargrave, I am surprised to see you.
You have been so long a stranger, but told her
she was glad to see her, and offered to salute her,

(04:00):
which missus Veale complied with till her lips almost touched.
And then missus Veale drew her hand across her own
eyes and said, I am not very well, and so
waved it. She told missus Bargrave she was going on
a journey and had a great mind to see her first,
but said missus Bargrave, how come you take a journey alone.
I'm amazed at it because I know you have so
fond a brother, Oh, said Missus Veal. I gave my

(04:23):
brother the slip and came away because I had so
great a mind to see you before I took my journey.
So Missus Bargrave went in with her into another room
within the first, and Missus Veale sat herself down with
an elbow in the chair in which Missus Bargrave was
sitting when she first heard Missus Veal's knock. Then says
missus Veale, my dear friend, I am come to renew
our old friendship again and to beg your pardon for

(04:45):
my preach of it. And if you can forgive me,
you are one of the best of women, oh, said
Missus Bargrave. Don't mention such a thing. I have not
had an uneasy thought about it. I can easily forgive it.
What did you think of me, said Missus Veale, says
Missus Bargrave. I thought you were a little like the
rest of the world, and that prosperity it made you

(05:06):
forget yourself and me. Then missus Veale reminded Missus Bargrave
of the many friendly offices she did for her in
former days, and much of the conversation that they had
with each other in the time of their adversity, What
books they had read, and what comfort, in particular they
had received from Drellingcourt's Book of Death, which was the best,
she said on that subject that was ever wrote. She

(05:29):
also mentioned Doctor Sherlock and the two Dutch books which
were translated upon Death, and several others were Dwelling Courts,
she said, had the clearest notions of death and the
future state of any who have handled that subject. Then
she asked Missus Bargrave whether she had drelling Court. She said, yes,
says Missus Veale. Fetch it, and so Missus Bargrave goes

(05:52):
upstairs and brings it down, says Missus Veale. Dear Missus Bargrave,
if the eyes of our faith were as open as
the eyes of our body, we should see the number
of angels about us. For our God, the notions we
have of heaven now are nothing like what it is,
as Dwelling Court says. And therefore be confronted under your
afflictions and believe that the Almighty has a particularly regard

(06:12):
to you, and that your afflictions are marks of God's favor,
and when they have done the business that they were
sent for, they shall be removed from you. And believe me,
my dear friend, believe what I say to you. One
minute of the future happiness will in definitely reward you
for all your sufferings, for I can never believe, and
clasp her hand upon her knee with a great deal

(06:33):
of earnestness, which indeed ran through all her discourse. That
ever God will suffer you to spend all your days
in this afflicted state, be assured that your affliction shall
leave you or you them in a short time. She
spoke in such a pathetical and heavenly manner that Missus
Magrave wept several times, she was so deeply affected with it.

(06:54):
Then Missus Veale mentioned doctor Horneck's ascetic and at the
end of which he gives an account of the life
of the primitive Christians, the pattern she recommended to our imitation,
and said their conversation was not like this of our age.
For now, says she, there is nothing but frothy, vain discourse,
which is far different from theirs. Theirs was to edification,

(07:16):
and to build one another up in the faith, so
that they were not as we are, nor we as they.
But she said we might do as they did. There
was a hearty friendship among them. But where is it
now to be found? Says Missus Bargrave. It is hard,
indeed to find a true friend in these days, says
Missus Veale. And mister Norris has a fine copy of

(07:37):
verses called Friendship Imperfection, which I wonderfully admire. Have you
seen the book, says Missus Veale, No, says Missus Bargrave.
But I have the verses of my own writing out,
have you, says Missus Veale. Then fetch them, which she
did from above the stairs, and offered them to Missus
Veale to read, who refused and waved the things, saying

(07:57):
holding down her head would make it ache, And then
desired Missus Bargrave to read them to her, which she did.
As they were remiring friendship, Missus Veale said, dear Missus Bargrave,
I shall love you forever. In the verses that is
twice used for the word elysium, ah, said Missus Veale.
As poets have such names for heaven. She would often

(08:20):
draw her hand across her eyes, and say, Missus Bargrave,
don't you think I am mightily impaired by my fits? No,
said Missus Bargrave, I think you look as well as
ever I knew you. After all, this discourse which the
apparition put in words much finer than Missus Bargraves said
she could pretend to, and was much more than she
could remember. For it cannot be thought that an hour

(08:41):
and three quarters conversation could all be retained though the
maine of itch. She thinks she does. She said to
Missus Bargraves she would have her write a letter to
her brother and tell him that she would give him
such rings and such and such, and that there was
a purse of gold in her cabinet, and that she
would have two broad pieces given to her cousin Watson.

(09:02):
Talking at this rate, Missus Bargrave thought that a fit
was coming upon her, and so placed herself in a
chair just before her knees, to keep her from falling
to the ground if her fits should occasion it. For
the oble chair, she thought would keep her from falling
on either side, and to divert Missus veal as she
thought she took hold of her gown sleeves several times
and commended it. Missus Veale told her that it was

(09:24):
a scoured silk and newly made up. But for all this,
missus Veale persisted in her request and told missus Bargrave
she must not deny her, and she would have her
tell her brother all their conversation when she had an opportunity.
Dear missus Veale, said missus Bargrave, this seems so impertinent
that I cannot tell how to comply with it. What
a mortifying story will our conversation be to a young gentleman? Well,

(09:47):
said missus Veale. I must not be denied, why, said
missus Bargrave. Tis much better me thinks you do it yourself. No,
said missus Veale, though it seems impertinent to you now,
he will see more reason for it hereafter. Missus Bargrave, then,
to satisfy her importunity, was going to fetch a pen

(10:08):
and ink, but missus Veale said let it alone, now
do it when I am gone, but you must be
sure to do it, which was one of the last
things she enjoined her at parting, and so she promised her.
Then Missus Veale asked her Missus Bargrave's daughter. She said
she was not at home, but if you have a

(10:28):
mind to see her, said missus Bargrave, I'll send for her. Do,
said Missus Veale, on which she left her and went
to her neighbor's to send for her. And by the
time missus Bargrave was returning, Missus Veale was got without
the door in the street in the face of the
Beast market on a Saturday, which is market day, and
stood ready for the part. As soon as missus Bargrave

(10:49):
came to her, she asked her why she was going
in such haste. She said she must be going, though
perhaps she might not go on her journey until Monday,
and told missus Bargrave she hoped that she should see
her again at her cousin Watson's before she went with her.
As she was going then she would not take her
leave of her, and walked for Missus Bargrave in her
view till the turning interrupted the sight of her, which

(11:13):
was three quarters after one in the afternoon. Missus Veale
died the seventh of September at twelve o'clock noon of
her fits, and had not above four hours senses before
her death, in which time she had received the sacrament.
The next day after missus Veale's appearing, being Sunday, missus
Bargrave was mightily indisposed with the cold and a sore

(11:34):
throat that she could not go out that day. But
on Monday morning she sends a person to Captain Watson's
to know if Missus Veale was there. They wondered that
Missus Bargrave's inquiry and sent a word that she was
not there, nor was expected. At this answer, Missus Bargrave
told the maid she had certainly mistook the name or

(11:54):
made some blunder, and though she was ill, she put
on her hood and went herself to Captain Watson's, though
she knew none of the family, to see if Missus
Veale was there or not. They said they wondered at
her asking, for she had not been in town. They
were sure if she had, she would have been there,
said missus Bargrave. I am sure she was with me

(12:14):
on Saturday, almost two hours. They said that was impossible,
for they would have seen her if she had. Incomes
Captain Watson while they were in dispute, and said that
Missus Veale was certainly dead, and her excusions were making
this strangely surprised Missus Bargrave, who went to the person
immediately who had the care of them, and found it
to be true. She related the whole story to Captain

(12:38):
Watson's family, and what gown she had on and how
it striped, and that Missus Veale had told her it
was scoured. Then Missus Watson cried out, you have seen
her indeed, for none knew Missus Veale and myself that
the gown was scoured. And Missus Watson owned that she
had described the gown exactly, for said she I helped
her to make it up. This Missus Watson blazed all

(12:59):
about the town and avouch for the demonstration of truth
of Missus Bargrave's seeing of Missus Veal's apparition, and Captain
Watson carried two gentlemen immediately to Missus Bargrave's house to
hear the relation from her own mouth. And then it
spread so fast that gentlemen and persons of quality, the
judicious and the skeptical part of the world flopped in

(13:20):
upon her, which at last became such a task that
she was forced to go out of the way for
they were in general extremely satisfied of the truth of
the thing, and plainly saw that Missus Bargrave was no hypochondriac,
for she always appears with such a cheerful air and
a pleasing mind that she had gained for the favor
and esteemed of all the gentry, and is thought great

(13:41):
favor if they can get but relation from her own mouth.
I should have told you before that. Missus Veale told
Missus Bargrave that her sister and brother in law had
just come down from London to see her, says Missus Bargrave.
Says Missus Bargrave, how came you to audo matter? So
strangely it could not be helped, said Missus Veale. Brother
and sister did come to see her, and entered the

(14:02):
town of Dover just as Missus Veale was expiring, But
Missus Bargrave asked her whether she could drink some tea,
says Missus Veale. I do not care if I do,
but I'll warrant this mad fellow, meaning Missus Bargrave's husband
has broken all your trinkets, pard said Missus Bargrave. I'll
get something to drink in for all that. But Missus
Veale waved it and said, it is of no matter,

(14:25):
let it alone. And so it passed all the time
I sat with Missus Bargrave, and was some ours. All
the time I sat with Missus Bargrave, which was some ours.
She recollected fresh sayings of Missus Veale, and one material
thing more. She told Missus Bargrave that old mister Breton
had allowed Missus Veale ten pounds a year, which was

(14:46):
a secret and unknown to Missus Bargrave till Missus Veale
told it to her. Missus Bargrave never varies in her story,
which puzzles those who doubt the truth were unwilling to
believe it. A servant in a neighbor's yard adjoining to
Missus Bargrave's house heard her talking to somebody for an
hour of the time that Missus Veale was allegedly with her.
Missus Bargrave went out to her neighbour's the very moment

(15:09):
she parted with Missus Veale, and told what a ravishing
conversation she had had with an old friend, and told
the whole of it. Drenancourt's Book of Death is since
this happened, brought up strangely, and it is to be observed,
notwithstanding all the trouble and fatigue Missus Bargrave has undergone.
Upon this account, she never took the value of her farthing,
nor suffered her daughter to take anything off anybody, and

(15:31):
therefore can have no interest in telling the story. But
mister Veale does what he can to stifle the matter,
and said he would see Missus Bargrave. But yet it
is a certain matter of fact that he has been
at Captain Watson since the death of his sister, and
yet never went near Missus Bargrave. And some of his
friends report her to be a great liar, and that

(15:53):
she knew of mister Breton's ten pound a year. But
the person who pretends to say so has the reputation
of a notorious liar amongst persons, which I know to
be of undoubted to repute. Now, mister Veale is more
of a gentleman than to say she lies, but says
a bad husband has crazed her, and she needs only
to present herself, and it will affectually confute that pretense.

(16:15):
Mister Veale says he asked his sister on her death
bed whether she had a mind to dispose of anything,
she said, no now what the things which Missus Veale's
apparition would come to have disposed were so trifling, and
nothing of justice aimed in their disposal, then the design,
it appears to me, to be only in order to
make Missus Bargrave to demonstrate the truth of her appearance,

(16:37):
as to satisfy the world of the reality thereof as
to what she had seen and heard, and to secure
a reputation among the reasonable and understanding part of mankind.
And then again, mister Veale owns that there was a
purse of gold, but it was not found in her cabinet,
but in a comb box. This looks improbable, for that

(17:00):
Missus Watson owned that Missus Veale was so very careful
with the key of her cabinet that she would not
trust anybody with it, and if so, no doubt she
would not trust her gold out of it. And Missus
Veale's often drawing her hands over her eyes and asking
Missus Bargrave whether her fits had not impaired her looks
to me as if she did it on purpose to
remind Missus Bargrave of her fits, to prepare her not

(17:21):
to think it strange that she should put her upon
writing to her brother to dispose of rings and gold,
which looked so much like a dying person's bequest, And
it took accordingly with Missus Bargrave as the effect of
her fits coming upon her, and was one of the
many instances of her wonderful love to her and care
of her, that she should not be affrighted, which indeed

(17:42):
appears to be her whole management, particularly coming to her
in the daytime waving the salutation, and when she was alone,
and then the manner of her parting to prevent a
second attempt to salute her. Now, why mister Veale should
think this relation of reflection than is tis plain he
does by endeavoring to stifle it, I can't imagine. Because

(18:05):
the generality believe her to be a good spirit. Her
discourse was so heavenly, and her too great errands were
to come up Missus Bargrave in her affliction and to
ask her forgiveness for her breach of friendship, and with
a pious discourse to encourage her, so that, after all,
so suppose that Missus Bargrave could have such an invention
as this. From Friday noon to Saturday noon, supposing she

(18:27):
knew of Missus Veale's death the very first moment, without
jumbling the circumstances, and without any interest too, she must
have been a more witty, fortunate, and wicked than any
indifferent person I dare say will allow. I asked Missus
Bargrave several times if she was sure she felt the gown.
She answered, modestly, if my senses have been relied upon,

(18:48):
I am sure of it. I asked her if she
heard a sound when she clapped her hand upon her knees.
She said she did not remember she did, and she
said she appeared to be as much substance as I
did who talked with her, And I may said, she
be as soon persuaded that your apparition is talking to
me now as that I did not really see her,

(19:08):
For I was under no manner of fear. I received
her as a friend and parted with her as such.
I would not says she give one farthing to make
any one believe it. I've no interest in it. Nothing
but trouble entailed upon me for a long time, and
for aught that I know, And it had it not
come to light by accident, it would never have been
made public but now she says she will make her

(19:32):
own private use of it and keep herself out of
the way as much as she can, And so she does.
Since she says she had a gentleman who came thirty
miles to see her and hear her relation, and that
she had told it to a room full of people
at the time, several particular gentlemen have had the story
from Missus Bargrave's own mouth. This thing has very much

(19:55):
affected me, and I am and I am well satisfied
that I am of the best ground matter of fact.
And why we should dispute this matter of fact when
we cannot solve things which we have no certain or
demonstrative notions seem strange to me. Missus Bargray's authority and
sincerity alone would have been undoubted in any other case.