Chapter V (1)

Nor will any go to law
With a Maunder {58e} for a straw;
All which happiness, he brags,
Is only owing to his rags.

Though Mr. Carew was now privileged by the dignity of his office from going out on any cruise, and was provided with every thing necessary, by joint contributions of the community, yet he did not give himself up to the slow poison of the mind, indolence, which, though its operations are imperceptible, is more hurtful and fatal than any of the quicker passions; for we often see great virtues break through the cloud of other vices, but indolence is a standing corrupted pool, which always remains in the same state, unfit for every purpose. Our hero, therefore, notwithstanding the particular privilege of his office, was as active in his stratagems as ever, and ready to encounter any difficulties which seemed to promise success, of which the following is an instance.

Happening to be in the parish of Fleet, near Portland Race, in Dorsetshire, he happened to hear in the evening of a ship in imminent danger of being cast away, she having been driven on some shoals. Early in the morning, before it was well light, he pulled off his clothes, which he flung into a deep pit, and then unseen by any one swam to the vessel, which now parted asunder; he found only one of the crew alive, who was hanging by his hands on the side of the vessel, the rest being either washed overboard, or drowned in attempting to swim to the shore. Never was there a more piteous object than this poor wretch hanging between life and death; Mr. Carew immediately offered him his assistance to get him to shore, at the same time inquiring the name of the vessel, and her master, what cargo on board, whence she came, and whither bound.

The poor wretch replied, she belonged to Bristol, captain Griffin, master, came from Hamburg, was bound to Bristol with a cargo of Hamburg goods, and had seven men and a boy on board; at the same time our hero was pressing him to let go his hold, and commit himself to his care, and he would endeavour to swim with him to shore: but, when the danger is so imminent, and death stands before our eyes, it is no easy matter to be persuaded to quit the weakest stay; thus the poor wretch hesitated so long before he would quit his hold of the vessel, that a large sea broke upon the wreck, and overwhelmed him in the great deep. Mr. Carew was in no little danger, but, being an excellent swimmer, he with great difficulty got to shore, though not without hurt, the sea throwing him with great violence on the beach, whereby one of his arms was wounded. By this time a great number of spectators were gathered on the strand, who rejoiced to see Mr. Carew come ashore alive, supposing him to be one of the poor wretches belonging to the ship. Naked, spent with fatigue, and wounded, he raised a feeling of pity in all the spectators; for, so strongly is this tender passion connected with our frame by the beneficent Author of Nature, to promote the assistance of each other, that, no sooner does the eye see a deplorable object, than the heart feels it, and as quickly forces the hand to relieve it; so that those whom the love of money, for we think that the greatest opposite to pity, has rendered unfeeling of another's woes, are said to have no hearts, or hearts of stone; as we naturally conclude no one can be void of that soft and Godlike passion--pity, but either one who by some cause or other happens to be made up without a heart, or one in whom continual droppings of self-love or avarice have quite changed the nature of it; which, by the most skilful anatomist, is allowed in its natural state to be fleshy, soft, and tender; but has been found, without exception, upon inspection into the bodies of several money lovers, to be nothing but a callous stony substance, from which the chemists, by most intense fires, have been able to extract nothing but a _caput mortuum_, or an earthy, dry, useless powder.

Amongst the spectators of Mr. Carew, was the housekeeper of Madam Mohun, in the parish of Fleet, who had a heart made of the softest substance; for she immediately, agreeable to the beneficent precepts of the gospel, pulled off her own cloak to give to him that had none: and, like the good Samaritan, giving him a handkerchief to bind up his wounds, bid him follow her, and led him to her mistress's house, where, placing him before a good fire, she gave him two large glasses of brandy, with loaf sugar in it; then bringing him a shirt and other apparel, she went up stairs and acquainted Madam Mohun, her venerable mistress, in the most feeling manner, with the whole affair.

Here, could we hope our work would last to future ages, we might immortalize this generous woman.--Her mistress was so affected with her relation, that she immediately ordered a warm bed to be prepared for the poor wretch, and that he should be taken great care of, which was accordingly soon done, and Mr. Carew lay very quiet for three or four hours; then waking, he seemed to be very much disturbed in his mind; his talk was incoherent, his groans moving, and he tossed from one side of the bed to the other, but seemed to find ease in none: the good people seeing him so uneasy in bed, brought him a good suit of clothes, and he got up. Being told the bodies of some of his shipmates were flung up by the sea on the shore, he seemed greatly affected, and the tears dropped from his eyes. Having received from Justice Farwell, who happened to be there, ill of the gout, a guinea and a pass for Bristol, and considerable contributions from the great number of people who flocked to see him, to the amount of nine or ten pounds, he expressed an inclination of making the best of his way to Bristol: and the good Justice Farwell lent him his own horse to ride as far as the town of Dorchester, and the parson of the parish sent his man to show him the way.

Mr. Carew would have been gladly excused from going through Dorchester, as he had appeared there but four or five days before in the character of a broken miller, and had thereby raised a contribution of the mayor and corporation of that place; but as it lay in the direct road to Bristol, and he was attended by a guide, he could not possibly avoid it. As soon as they came there, his guide presented the pass in behalf of Mr. Carew to the mayor, who thereupon ordered the town-bell to be rung, and assembled the heads of the corporation. Though he had been so lately with them, yet, being now in a quite different dress, and a pass which they knew to be signed by Justice Farwell, and the guide testifying that he was an unfortunate shipwrecked seaman, escaped from the most imminent danger, they had no notion of his being the broken miller who had been with them a few days before; they therefore treated him with great humanity, and relieved him very generously. After this, the guide took his leave of him with a great many good wishes for his safe arrival at Bristol; but Mr. Carew, instead of pursuing his way thither, steered his course towards Devonshire, and raised contributions by the way, as a shipwrecked seaman, on Colonel Brown of Framton, Squire Trenchard, and Squire Falford of Tolla, Colonel Broadrip, Colonel Mitchell, and Squire Richards of Long Britty, and several other gentlemen.

It was not long after this, that, being in the city of Bristol, he put in execution a very bold and ingenious stratagem. Calling to mind one Aaron Cook, a trader of considerable worth and note, at St. John's in Newfoundland, whom he resembled both in person and speech, he resolved to be the son of Aaron Cook for some time; he therefore went upon the Tolsey, and other places of public resort for the merchants of Bristol, and there modestly acquainted them with his name, as well as his misfortunes; that he was born and lived all his life at St. John's in Newfoundland; that he was bound for England, in the Nicholas, Captain Newman; which vessel springing a leak, they were obliged to quit her, and were taken up by an Irishman, Patrick Pore, and by him carried into Waterford; whence he had got passage, and landed at King's Road; that his business in England was to buy provisions and fishing craft, and to see his relations, who lived in the parish of Cockington, near Torbay, where, he said, his father was born.

Captains Elton, Galloway, Masters, Thomas, Turner, and several other Newfoundland traders, many of whom personally knew his pretended father and mother, asked him many questions about the family, their usual place of fishing, &c., particularly if he remembered how the quarrel happened at his father's (when he was but a boy) which was of so unhappy a consequence to Governor Collins? Mr. Carew very readily replied, that though he was then very young, he remembered that the governor, the parson and his wife, Madam Short, Madam Bengy, Madam Brown, and several other women of St. John's, having met together, and feasting at his father's, a warm dispute happened among the men in the heat of liquor, concerning the virtue of women, the governor obstinately averring that there was not one honest woman in all Newfoundland. What think you then of my wife? said the parson. The same as I do of all other women, all whores alike, answered the governor roughly. Hereupon the women, not able to bear this gross aspersion on their honour, with one accord attacked the governor, who, being overpowered by their fury, could not defend his face from being disfigured by their nails, nor his clothes from being torn off his back; and what was much worse, the parson's wife thinking herself most injured, cut the hamstring of his leg with a knife, which rendered him a cripple his whole life after.

This circumstantial account, which was in every point exactly as the affair happened, and many other questions concerning the family which the captains asked him, and he as readily answered, (having got every particular information concerning them when in Newfoundland,) fully convinced them that he must really be the son of their good old friend Mr. Aaron Cook; they therefore not only very generously relieved him, but offered to lend him any moderate sum, to be paid again in Newfoundland, the next fishing season; but Mr. Carew had too high a sense of honour to abuse their generosity so far; he therefore excused himself from accepting their offer, by saying he would be furnished with as much as he should have occasion for, by merchant Pemm of Exeter. They then took him with them to Guildhall, recommending him to the benevolence of the mayor and corporation, testifying he was a man of reputable family in Newfoundland. Here a very handsome collection was made for him; and the circumstances of his misfortunes becoming public, many other respectable ladies and gentlemen gave him that assistance according to their abilities, which is always due to unfortunate strangers. Three days did the captains detain him by their civilities in Bristol, showing him all the curiosities and pleasures of the place to divert his melancholy. He then set out for Cockington, where his relations lived, and Bridgewater being on his road, he had a letter, from one of the Bristol captains, to Captain Drake in that place.

As soon as he came to Bridgewater, he went directly to the mayor's house, and knocking at the gate, it was opened to him by madam mayoress, to whom he related his misfortune; and the good lady, pitying him as an unfortunate stranger, so far distant from his home, gave him half-a-crown, and engaged her daughter, a child, to give him a shilling.

We cannot pass by this amiable lady, without paying her the due tribute of praise; for tenderness and compassion ought to be the peculiar ornament of every female breast; and it were to be wished that every parent would betimes, like this good lady, instil into their children a tender sense of humanity, and feeling for another's woes, they would by this means teach them the enjoyment of the most godlike and pleasing of all other pleasures, that of relieving the distressed; and would extinguish that sordid selfish spirit, which is the blot of humanity. The good lady not content with what she had already done, ushered him into the room, where her husband, an aged gentleman, was writing; to whom she related Mr. Cook's misfortunes in as moving a manner as she was able; the old gentleman laid aside his spectacles, and asked him several questions, then dispatched his servant into the town, who soon returned with two Newfoundland captains, one of whom happened to be Captain Drake, to whom our hero had a letter of recommendation given him by one of the Bristol captains; and the other Captain Morris, whose business having called him to Bristol, he had there been already informed by the captains of the circumstances of Mr. Cook's misfortunes; and he repeating the same now to the mayor, Captain Morris confirmed this relation, told them how he had been treated at Bristol, and made him a present of a guinea and a greatcoat, it being then very rainy weather; Captain Drake likewise gave him a guinea, for both these gentlemen perfectly well knew Mr. Cook's father and mother; the mayor likewise made him a present, and entertained him very hospitably in his house.

In the same character he visited Sir Haswell Tent, and several other gentlemen, raising considerable contributions.

This activity and ingenuity of their new king was highly agreeable to the community of the mendicants, and his applauses resounded at all their meetings; but, as fortune delights to change the scene, and of a sudden to depress those she had most favoured, we come now to relate the misfortunes of our hero, though we know not whether we should call them by that name or not, as they gave him a large field of action, and greater opportunities of exercising the more manly virtues--courage and intrepidity in dangers.

Going one day to pay a visit to Mr. Robert Incledon, at Barnstaple in Devon, (in an ill hour which his knowledge could not foresee,) knocking at the door softly, it was, opened to him by the clerk, with the common salutation of How do you do, Mr. Carew? where have you been? He readily replied, that he was making a visit to Squire Bassar, and in his return had called to pay his respects to Mr. Incledon.

The clerk very civilly asked him to walk in; but no sooner had he entered than the door was shut upon him by Justice Leithbridge, a very bitter enemy to the whole community of mendicants, who concealed himself behind it, and Mr. Carew was made a prisoner;--so sudden are the vicissitudes of life; and misfortunes spring as it were out of the earth.

Thus suddenly and unexpectedly fell the mighty Caesar, the master of the world; and just so affrighted Priam looked when the shade of Hector drew his curtains, and told him that his Troy was taken.

The reader will, undoubtedly, be at a loss to comprehend why he was thus seized upon, contrary to the laws of hospitality; it is therefore our business to inform him, that he had, some time before this, in the shape of a poor lame cripple, frightened either the justice or his horse on Hilton bridge; but which of the two it was, cannot be affirmed with any certainty. However, the justice vowed a dire revenge, and now exulted greatly at having got him in his power; fame had no sooner sounded with her hundred prattling tongues that our hero was in captivity, but the justice's house was crowded with intercessors for him:--however, Justice Leithbridge was deaf to all, and even to the entreaties of beauty,--several ladies being likewise advocates for him; whether it was that the justice was past that age when love shoots his darts with most success, or whether his heart was always made of that unmalleable stuff which is quite unassailable by love, or by his cousin-german, pity, we cannot well determine.

Amongst the rest who came to see him, were some captains of collier vessels, whom the justice espying, very probably taking some disgust at their countenances, demanded who they were, and immediately discharging the guard which had been before placed over Mr. Carew, charged the captains with the care of him, though they affirmed their vessels were to sail the next tide; however the justice paying as little regard to their allegations as he had done to their petitions for Mr. Carew, they found they had no other hope but from the good-natured dame--Patience; a good woman, who is always ready to render our misfortunes less, and was, in all his adventures, a great friend to our hero.

At length a warrant was made out for conveying him to Exeter, and lodging him in one of the securest places in that city; but, as it was now too late to set forward on their journey that night, they were ordered to a public house at Barnstaple; and the justice remembering the old proverb, "fast bind, fast find," would fain have locked the door of the room where Mr. Carew was, and taken the key with him; but the honest landlord offering to become security for his appearance in the morning, the justice was at last persuaded to be content without a jailor.

Mr. Carew, notwithstanding his situation, was not cast down, but bravely opposed his ill fortune with his usual courage, and passed the night with great cheerfulness in the company of the collier captains, who were his guard.

The next day Mr. Carew was conducted to Exeter, without any thing remarkable happening on the road; here, to his great annoyance, he was securely lodged for upwards of two months, before he was brought to trial at the quarter sessions, held at the castle, when Justice Bevis was chairman; but that awful appearance,

The judges all met--a terrible show,

did not strike any terror into his breast; though loaded with chains, he preserved his usual firmness of mind, and saluted the court with a noble assurance. Being asked by the chairman what parts of the world he had been in? he answered Denmark, Sweden, Muscovy, France, Spain, Portugal, Newfoundland, Ireland, Wales, and some parts of Scotland. The chairman then told him he must proceed to a hotter country:--he inquired into what climate, and being told Merryland, he with great composure made a critical observation on the pronunciation of that word, implying, that he apprehended it ought to be pronounced Maryland, and added, it would save him five pounds for his passage, as he was very desirous of seeing that country: but, notwithstanding, he with great resolution desired to know by what law they acted, as he was not accused of any crime; however, sentence of banishment was passed upon him for seven years; but his fate was not singular, for he had the comfort of having fellow companions enough in his unmerited sufferings, as, out of thirty-five prisoners, thirty-two were ordered into the like banishment.

Whether at that period of time mankind were more profligate than usual, or whether there was a more than ordinary demand for men in his majesty's colonies, cannot by us be determined. Mr. Carew was not, as is most commonly the case, deserted by his friends in adversity, for he was visited during the time of his imprisonment by many gentlemen, who were exceedingly liberal to him; and no sooner did the news of his captivity reach the ears of his subjects, than they flocked to him from all parts, administered to his necessities in prison, and daily visited him till his departure.

This, and the thoughts of the many new scenes and adventures which he was likely to encounter, whereby he might have an opportunity of making his name as famous in America as it was already in Europe, often filled his mind with too-pleasing reflections to regret his fate, though he could have liked to have performed the voyage under more agreeable circumstances; whenever the thought of being cruelly separated from his beloved wife and daughters glanced on his mind, the husband and father unmanned the hero, and melted him into tenderness and fear; the reflection too of the damage his subjects might sustain by his absence, and the disorder the whole community would be put in by it, filled him with many disquietudes.

Thus, between pleasing ideas and heartfelt pangs, did he pass his time till the day arrived that he was to be conducted on board the Julian, Captain Froade, commander. But how, gentle reader, shall I describe the ceremony of parting--the last farewell of that dreadful day!

Leaving the reader, therefore, to suppose all these fine things, behold the sails already spread, and the vessel cutting the waves; but, as if fate had opposed itself to the banishment of our hero, the winds soon proved contrary, and they were obliged to stay more than a fortnight in Falmouth harbour for a fair wind, and from thence, in eleven weeks, they arrived safely at Maryland, after a disagreeable voyage.

The first place they touched at was Hampton, between Cape Charles and Cape Henry, where the captain went on shore and got a pilot; and after about two days stay there, the pilot brought the vessel down Mile's River, and cast anchor in Talbot county, when the captain ordered a gun to be fired as a signal for the planters to come down, and then went ashore. He soon after sent on board a hogshead of rum, and ordered all the men prisoners to be close shaved against the next morning, and the women to have their best head-dresses put on, which occasioned no little hurry on board; for, between the trimming of beards, and putting on of caps, all hands were fully employed.

Early in the morning the captain ordered public notice to be given of the day of sale; and the prisoners, who were pretty near a hundred, were all ordered upon deck, where a large bowl of punch was made, and the planters flocked on board; their first inquiry was for letters from old England, what passage he had, how their friends did, and the like.

The captain informed them of the war being declared against Spain, that it was expected it would soon be declared against France; and that he had been eleven weeks and four days in his passage.

Their next inquiry was, if the captain had brought them good store of joiners, carpenters, blacksmiths, weavers, and tailors; upon which the captain called out one Griffy, a tailor, who had lived at Chumleigh, in the county of Devon, and was obliged to take a voyage to Maryland, for making too free with his neighbour's sheep. Two planters, who were parson Nicholas and Mr. Rolls, asked him if he was sound wind and limb? and told him it would be worse for him if he told them an untruth; and at last purchased him from the captain. The poor tailor cried and bellowed like a bell-wether, cursing his wife who had betrayed him. Mr. Carew, like a brave man, to whom every soil is his own country, ashamed of his cowardice, gave the tailor to the devil; and, as he knew he could not do without them, sent his shears, thimble, and needle, to bear him company. Wherefore all these wailings? said our hero: have we not a fine country before us? pointing to the shore. And indeed in this he was very right, for Maryland not only affords every thing which preserves and confirms health, but also all things that are charming. The beauty of the prospect, the fragrancy of the fields and gardens, the brightness of the sky, and the serenity of the air, affect the ravished senses; the country being a large plain, and hills in it so easy of ascent, and of such a moderate height, that they seem rather an artificial ornament to it, than one of the accidents of nature. The abundance of rivers and brooks is no little help to the almost incredible fertility of the soil.

But to return.--When all the best tradesmen were bought up, a planter came to Mr. Carew, and asked him what trade he was of. Mr. Carew, to satisfy him of his usefulness, told him he was a rat-catcher, a mendicant, and a dog merchant.--What the devil trades are these? inquired the planter in astonishment; for I have never before heard of them: upon which the captain thinking he should lose the sale of him, takes the planter aside, and tells him he did but jest, being a man of humour, for that he was a great scholar, and was only sent over on account of having disobliged some gentlemen; that he had no indenture with him, but he should have him for seven years, and that he would make an excellent school-master; however, he did not buy him.

The next day the captain asked him to go on shore with him to see the country, but with a view of getting a purchaser for him among the planters. As they were walking, several people came up to Mr. Carew, and asked him what countryman he was, &c. At length they went to a tavern, where one Mr. David Huxter, who was formerly of Lyme in Dorset, and Mr. Hambleton, a Scotchman, seemed to have an inclination to buy him between them; soon after came in one Mr. Ashcraft, who put in for him too, and the bowl of punch went merrily round. In the midst of their mirth, Mr. Carew, who had given no consent to the bargain they were making for him, thought it no breach of honour or good manners to seize an opportunity of slipping away without taking leave of them; and taking away with him about a pint of brandy and some biscuit cakes, which by good luck he chanced to put his hand on, he immediately betook himself to the woods as the only place of security for him.

Mr. Carew, having found he had eluded their search, congratulated himself on his happy escape and deliverance; for he now made no doubt of getting to old England again, notwithstanding the difficulties which lay in his way, as he knew his courage was equal to every danger; but we are too often apt, as the proverb says, "to reckon without our host," and are sometimes near danger when we think ourselves most secure: and so it happened to our hero at this time; for, amidst his joyful reflections, he did not know that none were allowed to travel there, unless when known, without proper passes, of which he was not provided; and there is moreover a reward of five pounds for any one who apprehends a runaway.

It therefore happened, that one morning early, passing through a narrow path, he was met by four timbermen, going to work; he would fain have escaped their observation, but they soon hailed him, and demanded where he was going, and where his pass was? These were questions which he would willingly have been excused from answering; however, as his wit was always ready, he immediately told them he belonged to the Hector privateer, (which he knew then lay upon the coast,) and that he was going on some business for the captain to Charles' county:--but, as he could produce no pass, this would not satisfy them, so they seized upon him, and conducted him to one Colonel Brown's, a justice of the peace in Anne Arundel county.

But here, most gentle reader, that thou mayest not form a wrong idea of this justice, and, as is too often the case, judge of what thou hast not seen, from what thou hast seen, it will be necessary to inform thee, that he was not such a one as Hudibras describes:

An old dull sot, who told the clock,
For many years at Bridewell dock.

Neither was he such a one as that excellent artist, Mr. Hogarth, has depicted in his picture of a Modern Midnight Conversation;--nor such a one as the author of Joseph Andrews has, above all authors, so inimitably drawn to the life; nor yet was he such a one as thou hast often seen at a quarter sessions, with a large wig, a heavy unmeaning countenance, and a sour aspect, who gravely nods over a cause, and then passes a decision on what he does not understand; and no wonder, when he, perhaps, never saw, much less read the laws of his country; but of Justice Brown, I can assure the reader, he could not only read, but upon occasion write a mittimus, without the assistance of his clerk; he was thoroughly acquainted with the general duties of his office, and the particular laws of Maryland; his countenance was an awful majesty, tempered with a humane sweetness, ever unwilling to punish, yet always afraid of offending justice; and if at any time necessity obliged him to use the rod, he did it with so much humanity and compassion, as plainly indicated the duties of his office forced, rather than the cruelty or haughtiness of his temper prompted to it; and while the unhappy criminal suffered a corporeal punishment, he did all that lay in his power, to the end that it might have a due effect, by endeavouring to amend the mind with salutary advice; if the exigencies of the state required taxes to be levied upon the subjects, he never, by his authority or office, excused himself from bearing his full proportion; nor even would he meanly submit to see any of his fellow-justices do so.

It was before such a justice Mr. Carew had the good fortune to be carried: they found him in his court-yard, just mounting his horse to go out, and he very civilly inquired their business; the timbermen told him they had got a runaway: the justice then inquired of Mr. Carew who he was: he replied he was a sea-faring man, belonging to the Hector privateer of Boston, captain Anderson, and as they could not agree, he had left the ship. The justice told him he was very sorry it should happen so, but he was obliged by the laws of his country to stop all passengers who could not produce passes; and, therefore, though unwillingly, he should be obliged to commit him; he then entertained him very plentifully with victuals and drink, and in the mean time made his commitment for New Town gaol. Mr. Carew, finding his commitment made, told the timbermen, that, as they got their money easily, he would have a horse to ride upon, for it was too hot for him to walk in that country. The justice merrily cried, Well spoken, prisoner. There was then a great ado with the timbermen to get a horse for him; but at last one was procured, and our hero, mounted on a milk-white steed, was conveyed in a sort of triumph to New Town, the timbermen performing the cavalcade on foot.

The commitment was directed to the under-sheriff in New Town, a saddler by profession, who immediately waited on him to the prison; he found it well peopled, and his ears were confused with almost as many dialects as put a stop to the building of Babel. Mr. Carew saluted them, and courteously inquired what countrymen they were: some were from Kilkenny, some Limeric, some Dublin, others of Somerset, Dorset, Devon, and Cornwall; so that he found he had choice enough of companions, and, as he saw he had no remedy but patience, he endeavoured to amuse himself as well as he could.

Looking through the bars one day, he espied a whipping-post and gallows, at which he turned to his companions, and cried out, A fine sight truly this is, my friends! which was a jest many of them could not relish, as they had before tasted of the whipping; looking on the other side, he saw a fine house, and demanding whose it was, they told him it was the assembly-house. While he was thus amusing himself, reflecting on the variety of his fate, fortune was preparing a more agreeable scene for him. A person coming up to the window, asked where the runaway was, who had been brought in that day, Mr. Carew composedly told him he was the man; they then entered into discourse, inquiring of each other of what country they were, and soon found they were pretty near neighbours, the person who addressed him being one out of Dorsetshire. While they were talking, our hero seeing the tops of some vessels riding in the river, inquired what place they belonged to. The man replied, To the west of England, to one Mr. Buck of Biddeford, to whom most of the town belonged. Our hero's heart leaped for joy at this good news, and he hastily asked if the captains Kenny, Hervey, Hopkins, and George Bird were there; the man replying in the affirmative, still heightened his satisfaction. Will you have the goodness to be an unfortunate prisoner's friend, said he to the person he was talking with, and present my humble duty to any of them, but particularly to Captain Hervey, and inform them I am here. The man very civilly replied he would do it; and asked what he should tell them was his name? Carew, replied our hero. Away ran the messenger with great haste, but before he got half way, forgetting the name ran back again to ask it. Tell them my name is Carew, the rat-catcher; away went the man again, repeating all the way, Carew, the rat-catcher, lest he should forget it a second time; and he now executed his message so well, that very soon after came the captains to the gaol door.

Inquiring for Carew, the rat-catcher, as they wanted to speak with him; our hero, who heard them, answered with a tantivy, and a halloo to the dogs; upon which Captain Hervey swore it was Carew, and fell a laughing very heartily, then coming to the window, they very cordially shook hands with him, saying, they should as soon have expected to have seen Sir Robert Walpole there as him. They then inquired by what means he came there; and he informed them circumstantially of every thing as already mentioned. The captains asked him if he would drink a glass of rum, which he accepted of very gladly in his present condition; one of them quickly sent down to the storehouse for a bottle of rum and a bottle of October, and then they all went into the gaol, and sat down with him.

Thus did he see himself once more surrounded by his friends, so that he scarcely regretted his meeting with the timbermen, as they had brought him into such good company. He was so elevated with his good fortune, that he forgot all his misfortunes, and passed the evening as cheerfully as if he was neither a slave nor a prisoner. The captains inquired if he had been sold to a planter before he made his escape; he replied in the negative, when they informed him, that unless his captain came and demanded him, he would be publicly sold the next court-day. When they took their leaves, they told him they would see him the next morning.

Accordingly they returned very early, and having got admittance into the prison, hailed him with the pleasing sound of liberty, telling him, they had agreed among themselves to purchase him, then give him his release, and furnish him with proper passes; but instead of receiving this joyful news with the transports they expected, our hero stood for some time silent and lost in thought. During this while, he reflected within himself, whether his honour would permit him to purchase his liberty on these terms: and it was indeed no little struggle which passed in his breast on this occasion. On the one side, Liberty, with all her charms, presented herself, and wooed to be accepted, supported by Fear, who set before his eyes all the horrors and cruelties of a severe slavery; on the other side, dame Honour, with a majestic mein, forbade him, sounding loudly in his ears how it would read in future story, that the ingenious Mr. Carew had no contrivance left to regain his lost liberty, but meanly to purchase it at his friends' expense. For some time did these passions remain in equipoise; as thou hast often seen the scales of some honest tradesman, before he weighs his commodity; but at length honour preponderated, and liberty and fear flew up and kicked the beam; he therefore told the captains he had the most grateful sense of this instance of their love, but that he could never consent to purchase his freedom at their expense: and therefore desired they would only do him the favour to acquaint Captain Froade of his being there. The captains were quite amazed at this resolution, and used great entreaties to persuade him to alter it, but all in vain; so that at last they were obliged to comply with his earnest request, in writing to Captain Froade.

Captain Froade received with great pleasure the news of his being in custody in New Town, and soon sent round his long-boat, paid all costs and charges, and brought him once more on board his ship. The captain received him with a great deal of malicious satisfaction in his countenance, telling him in a taunting manner, that, though he had promised Sir William Courtney to be at home before him, he should find himself damnably mistaken; and then with a tyrannic tone bade him strip, calling the boatswain to bring up a cat-o'-nine-tails, and tie him fast up to the main geers; accordingly our hero was obliged to undergo a cruel and shameful punishment. Here, gentle reader, if thou hast not a heart made of something harder than adamant, thou canst not choose but melt at the sufferings of our hero; he, who but just before, did what would have immortalised the name of Caesar or Alexander, is now rewarded for it with cruel and ignominious stripes, far from his native country, wife, children, or any friends, and still doomed to undergo severe hardships. As soon as the captain had satisfied his revenge, he ordered Mr. Carew on shore, taking him to a blacksmith, whom he desired to make a heavy iron collar for him, which in Maryland they call a pot-hook, and is usually put about the necks of runaway slaves. When it was fastened on, the captain jeeringly cried, Now run away if you can; I will make you help to load this vessel, and then I'll take care of you, and send you to the ironworks of Susky Hadlam.

Captain Froade soon after left the vessel, and went up to a storehouse at Tuckhoe, and the first mate to Kent island, whilst the second mate and boatswain kept the ship; in the mean time our hero was employed in loading the vessel, and doing all manner of drudgery. Galled with a heavy yoke and narrowly watched, he began to lose all hopes of escape; his spirits now began to fail him, and he almost gave himself up to despair, little thinking his deliverance so near at hand, as he found it soon to be.

One day, as he was employed in his usual drudgery, reflecting within himself upon his unhappy condition, he unexpectedly saw his good friends, Captains Hervey and Hopkins, two of the Biddeford captains, who, as has been before related, had offered to redeem him from the prison at New Town; he was overjoyed at the sight of them, not that he expected any deliverance from them, but only as they were friends he had been so much obliged to.

The captains came up and inquired very kindly how it fared with him, and how he bore the drudgery they saw him employed in; adding, that he had better have accepted the offer they made him at New Town. Our hero gallantly replied, that however severe the hardships he underwent, and were they still more so, he would rather choose to suffer them, than purchase liberty at their cost. The captains, charmed with his magnanimity, were resolved to make one attempt more to get him his liberty. They soon after sounded the boatswain and mate; and finding them not greatly averse to give him an opportunity to escape, they took him aside, and thus addressed him:--Friend Carew, the offer we made you at New Town may convince you of the regard we have for you; we therefore cannot think of leaving the country before we have, by some means or other, procured your liberty; we have already sounded the boatswain and mate, and find we can bring them to wink at your escape; but the greatest obstacle is, that there is forty pounds penalty and half a year's imprisonment, for any one that takes off your iron collar, so that you must be obliged to travel with it, till you come among the friendly Indians, many miles distant from hence, who will assist you to take it off, for they are great friends with the English, and trade with us for lattens, kettles, frying-pans, gunpowder and shot; giving us in exchange buffalo and deer skins, with other sorts of furs. But there are other sorts of Indians, one of which are distinguished by a very flat forehead, who use cross-bows in fighting; the other of a very small stature, who are great enemies, and very cruel to the whites; these you must endeavour by all means to avoid, for if you fall into their hands, they will certainly murder you.

And here the reader will, we make no doubt, be pleased to see some account of the Indians, among whom our hero was treated with so much kindness and civility, as we shall relate in its proper place.

At the first settling of Maryland, there were several nations of them governed by petty kings. Mr. Calvert, Lord Baltimore's brother having been sent by him to make the first settlement in Maryland, landed at Potowmac town; during the infancy of Werowance, Archibau, his uncle, who governed his territories in his minority, received the English in a friendly manner. From Potowmac the governor proceeded to Piscataqua, about 20 leagues higher, where he found many Indians assembled, and among them an Englishman, Captain Henry Fleet, who had lived there several years in great esteem with the natives. Captain Fleet brought the prince on board the governor's pinnace to treat with him. Mr. Calvert asked him, whether he was agreeable that he and his people should settle in his country. The prince replied, I will not bid you go, neither will I bid you stay, but you may use your own discretion. The Indians, finding their prince stay longer on board than they expected, crowded down to the water-side to look after him, fearing the English had killed him, and they were not satisfied till he showed himself to them, to please them. The natives, who fled from St. Clement's isle, when they saw the English come as friends, returned to their habitations; and the governor, not thinking it advisable to settle so high up the river in the infancy of the colony, sent his pinnaces down the river, and went with Captain Fleet to a river on the north side of the Potowmac, within four or five leagues, in his long-boat, and came to the town of Yoamaco, from which the Indians of that neighbourhood are called Yoamacoes. The governor landed, and treating with the prince there, acquainted him with the occasion of his coming, to whom the Indian said little, but invited him to his house, entertained him kindly, and gave him his own bed to lie on. The next day he showed him the country, and the governor determining to make the first settlement there, ordered all his ships and pinnaces to come thither to him.

To make his entry the more safe and peaceable, he presented the Werowance and Wilsos, and principal men of the place, with some English cloth, axes, hoes and knives, which they accepted very kindly, and freely consented that he and his company should dwell in one part of the town, and reserving the other for themselves. Those Indians who inhabited that part which was assigned to the English, readily abandoned their houses to them; and Mr. Calvert immediately set hands to work to plant corn. The natives agreed further to leave the whole town to the English as soon as their harvest was in; which they did accordingly, and both English and Indians promised to live friendly together. If any injury was done on either part, the nation offending was to make satisfaction. Thus, on the 27th March, 1634, the governor took possession of the town, and named it St. Mary's.

There happened an event which much facilitated this with the Indians. The Susquehanocks, a warlike people, dwelling between Chesapeak Bay and Delaware Bay, were wont to make incursions on their neighbours, partly for dominion and partly for booty, of which the women were most desired by them. The Yoamacoes, fearing these Susquehanocks, had a year before the English arrived, resolved to desert their habitations, and remove higher into the country; many of them were actually gone, and the rest prepared to follow them. The ships and pinnaces arriving at the town, the Indians were amazed and terrified at the sight of them, especially at hearing their cannon thunder, when they came to anchor.

The first thing that Mr. Calvert did was to fix a court of guard, and erect a storehouse; and he had not been there many days before Sir John Harvey, governor of Virginia, came there to visit him, as did several of the Indian Werowances, and many other Indians, from several parts of the continent; among others, came the king of Patuxent, and, being carried aboard the ship, then at anchor in the river, was placed between the governor of Virginia and the governor of Maryland, at an entertainment made for him and others. A Patuxent Indian coming aboard, and seeing his king thus seated, started back; thinking he was surprised, he would have fain leaped overboard, and could not be persuaded to enter the cabin, till the Werowance came himself, and satisfied him he was in no danger. This king had formerly been taken prisoner by the English of Virginia. After the storehouse was finished and the ship unladen, Mr. Calvert ordered the colours to be brought ashore, which was done with great solemnity, the gentlemen and their servants attending in arms: several volleys were fired on board and on shore, as also the cannon, at which the natives were struck with admiration, such at least as had not heard the firing of pieces of ordnance before, to whom it could not be dreadful.

The kings of Patuxent and Yoamaco were present at this ceremony, with many other Indians of Yoamaco; and the Werowance of Patuxent took that occasion to advise the Indians of Yoamaco to be careful to keep the league that had been made with the English. He staid in town several days, and was full of his Indian compliments; when he went away he made this speech to the governor: "I love the English so well, that, should they go about to kill me, if I had so much breath as to speak, I would command my people not to revenge my death, for I know they would not do such a thing, except it were through my own fault."

This infant colony supplied themselves with Indian corn at Barbadoes, which, at their first arrival, they began to use to save their French store of flour and oatmeal. The Indian women, perceiving that their servants did not know how to dress it, made their bread for them, and taught them to do it themselves. There was Indian corn enough in the country, and these new adventurers soon after shipped off 10,000 bushels for New England, to purchase salt fish and other provisions. While the English and Indians lived at St. Mary's together, the natives went every day to hunt with the new comers for deer and turkeys, which, when they had caught, they gave to the English, or sold for knives, beads, and such like trifles. They also brought them good store of fish, and behaved themselves very kindly, suffering their women and children to come among them, which was a certain sign of their confidence in them.

Most of the Indians still follow the religion and customs of their ancestors; and are not become either more pious or more polite by the company of the English.

As to their religion, they have all of them some dark notions about God; but some of them have brighter ones, if a person may be believed who had this confession from the mouth of an Indian: "That they believed God was universally beneficent; that his dwelling was in heaven above, and the influence of his goodness reached to the earth beneath; that he was incomprehensible in his excellence, and enjoyed all possible felicity; that his duration was eternal, his perfection boundless, and that he possessed everlasting happiness." So far the savage talked as rationally of the existence of a God as a Christian divine or philosopher could have done; but when he came to justify their worshipping of the Devil, whom they call Okee, his notions were very heterodox. He said, "It is true God is the giver of all good things, but they flow naturally and promiscuously from him; that they are showered down upon all men without distinction; that God does not trouble himself with the impertinent affairs of men, nor is concerned at what they do, but leaves them to make the most of their free will, and to secure as many as they can of the good things that flow from him; that therefore it was to no purpose either to fear or worship him; but, on the contrary, if they did not pacify the evil spirit, he would ruin their health, peace, and plenty, he being always visiting them in the air, thunders, storms, &c."

As to the idol which they all worship, and is kept in a temple called Quiocasan, he seemed to have a very different opinion of its divinity, and cried out against the juggling of the priests.--This man did not talk like a common savage, and therefore we may suppose he had studied the matter more than his countrymen, who, for the generality, paid a great deal of devotion to the idol, and worshipped him as their chief deity.

Their priests and conjurors are highly reverenced by them. They are given extremely to pawning or conjuring; and one of them very lately conjured a shower of rain for a gentleman's plantation, in a time of drought, for two bottles of rum. We are not apt to give credit to such supernatural events; and, had we not found this in an author who was on the spot, we should have rejected it as a fable.

Their priests promise fine women, eternal spring, and every pleasure in perfection in the other world, which charmed them in this; and threaten them with lakes of fire, and torments by a fairy in the shape of an old woman. They are often bloody in their sacrifices, and offer up young children to the devil. They have a superstitious ceremony among them, which they call _Huskanawing_, and is performed thus: they shut up ten or twelve young men, the most deserving among them, about twenty years of age, in a strong inclosure, made on purpose, like a sugar loaf, and every way open like a lattice, for the air to pass through; they are kept for several months, and are allowed to have no sustenance but the infusion or decoction of poisonous intoxicating roots, which turn their brains, and they run stark mad.

By this it is pretended they lose the remembrance of all former things, even of their parents, treasure, and language, as if they had drunk of the water of oblivion, drawn out of the lake of Lethe. When they have been in this condition as long as their custom directs, they lessen this intoxicating potion; and, by degrees, the young men recover the use of their senses; but before they are quite well, they are shown in their towns; and the youths who have been _huskanawed_ are afraid to discover the least sign of their remembering any thing of their past lives; for, in such a case, they must be huskanawed again, and they are disciplined so severely the second time, that it generally kills them.