 | Early Maryland poetry. The works of Ebenezer Cook ... |  |
11
THE Sot-weed Factor;
Or, a Voyage to MARYLAND.
A SATYR. In which is describ'd, The Laws, Government, Courts and Constitutions of the Country; and also the Buildings, Feasts, Frolicks, Entertainments and Drunken Humours of the Inhabitants of that Part of America.
Condemn'd by Fate to way-ward Curse,
Of Friends unkind, and empty Purse;
Plagues worse than fill'd Pandora's Box,
I took my leave of Albion's Rocks:
With heavy Heart, concern'd that I
Was forc'd my Native Soil to fly,
And the Old World must bid good-buy.
But Heav'n ordain'd it should be so,
And to repine is vain we know:
Freighted with Fools, from Plymouth sound,
To Mary-Land our Ship was bound,
Where we arriv'd in dreadful Pain,
Shock'd by the Terrours of the Main;
For full three Months, our wavering Boat,
Did thro' the surley Ocean float,
And furious Storms and threat'ning Blasts,
Both tore our Sails and sprung our Masts:
Wearied, yet pleas'd, we did escape
Such Ills, we anchor'd at the Cape;
But weighing soon, we plough'd the Bay,
To Cove it in Piscato-way,
Intending there to open Store,
I put myself and Goods a-shore:
Where soon repair'd a numerous Crew,
In Shirts and Drawers of Scotch-cloth Blue.
With neither Stockings, Hat, nor Shooe.
These Sot-weed Planters Crowd the Shoar,
In Hue as tawny as a Moor:
Figures so strange, no God design'd,
To be a part of Humane Kind:
But wanton Nature, void of Rest,
Moulded the brittle Clay in Jest.
At last a Fancy very odd
Took me, this was the Land of Nod;
Planted at first, when Vagrant Cain,
His Brother had unjustly slain:
Then conscious of the Crime he'd done,
From Vengeance dire, he hither run;
And in a Hut supinely dwelt,
The first in Furs and Sot-weed dealt.
And ever since his Time, the Place,
Has harbour'd a detested Race;
Who when they cou'd not live at Home,
For Refuge to these Worlds did roam;
In hopes by Flight they might prevent,
The Devil and his fell intent;
Obtain from Tripple Tree repreive,
And Heav'n and Hell alike deceive:
But e're their Manners I display,
I think it fit I open lay
My Entertainment by the way;
That Strangers well may be aware on,
What homely Diet they must fare on.
To touch that Shoar, where no good Sense is found,
But Conversation's lost, and Manners drown'd.
I crost unto the other side,
A River whose impetuous Tide,
The Savage Borders does divide;
In such a shining odd invention,
I scarce can give its due Dimention.
The Indians call this watry Waggon
Canoo, a Vessel none can brag on;
Cut from a Popular-Tree, or Pine,
And fashion'd like a Trough for Swine:
In this most noble Fishing-Boat,
I boldly put myself a-float;
Standing Erect, with Legs stretch'd wide,
We paddled to the other side:
Where being Landed safe by hap,
As Sol fell into Thetis Lap.
A ravenous Gang bent on the stroul,
Of Wolves for Prey, began to howl;
This put me in a pannick Fright,
Least I should be devoured quite:
But as I there a musing stood,
And quite benighted in a Wood,
A Female Voice pierc'd thro' my Ears,
Crying, You Rogue drive home the Steers.
I listen'd to th' attractive sound,
And straight a Herd of Cattel found
Drove by a Youth, and homewards bound:
Cheer'd with the sight, I straight thought fit,
To ask where I a Bed might get.
The surley Peasant bid me stay,
And ask'd from whom I'de run away.
Surprized at such a saucy Word,
I instantly lugg'd out my Sword;
Swearing I was no Fugitive,
But from Great-Britain did arrive,
In hopes I better there might Thrive.
To which he mildly made reply,
I beg your Pardon, Sir, that I
Should talk to you Unmannerly;
But if you please to go with me,
To yonder House, you'll welcome be.
Encountring soon the smoaky Seat,
The Planter old did thus me greet:
“Whether you come from Goal or Colledge,
“You're welcome to my certain Knowledge;
“And if you please all Night to stay,
“My Son shall put you in the way.
Which offer I most kindly took,
And for a Seat did round me look;
When presently amongst the rest,
He plac'd his unknown English Guest,
Who found them drinking for a whet,
A Cask of Syder on the Fret,
Till Supper came upon the Table,
On which I fed whilst I was able.
So after hearty Entertainment,
Of Drink and Victuals without Payment;
For Planters Tables, you must know,
Are free for all that come and go.
While Pon and Milk, with Mush well stoar'd,
In wooden Dishes grac'd the Board;
With Homine and Syder-pap,
(Which scarce a hungry Dog wou'd lap)
Well stuff'd with Fat, from Bacon fry'd,
Or with Molossus dulcify'd.
Then out our Landlord pulls a Pouch,
As greasy as the Leather Couch
On which he sat, and straight begun,
To load with Weed his Indian Gun;
In length, scarce longer than ones Finger,
Or that for which the Ladies linger.
His Pipe smoak'd out with aweful Grace,
With aspect grave and solemn pace;
The reverend Sire walks to a Chest,
Of all his Furniture the best,
Closely confin'd within a Room,
Which seldom felt the weight of Broom;
From thence he lugs a Cag of Rum,
And nodding to me, thus begun:
I find, says he, you don't much care,
For this our Indian Country Fare;
But let me tell you, Friend of mine,
You may be glad of it in time,
Tho' now your Stomach is so fine;
And if within this Land you stay,
You'll find it true what I do say.
This said, the Rundlet up he threw,
And bending backwards strongly drew:
I pluck'd as stoutly for my part,
Altho' it made me sick at Heart,
And got so soon into my Head
I scarce cou'd find my way to Bed;
Where I was instantly convey'd
By one who pass'd for Chamber-Maid;
Tho' by her loose and sluttish Dress,
She rather seem'd a Bedlam-Bess:
Curious to know from whence she came,
I prest her to declare her Name.
She Blushing, seem'd to hide her Eyes,
And thus in Civil Terms replies;
In better Times, e'er to this Land,
I was unhappily Trapann'd;
Perchance as well I did appear,
As any Lord or Lady here,
Not then a Slave for twice two Year.
My Cloaths were fashionably new,
Nor were my Shifts of Linnen Blue;
But things are changed now at the Hoe,
I daily work, and Bare-foot go,
In weeding Corn or feeding Swine,
I spend my melancholy Time.
Kidnap'd and Fool'd, I hither fled,
To shun a hated Nuptial Bed,
And to my cost already find,
Worse Plagues than those I left behind.
Whate'er the Wanderer did profess,
Good-faith I cou'd not choose but guess
The Cause which brought her to this place,
Was supping e'er the Priest said Grace.
Quick as my Thoughts, the Slave was fled,
(Her Candle left to shew my Bed)
Which made of Feathers soft and good,
Close in the Chimney-corner stood;
I threw me down expecting Rest,
To be in golden Slumbers blest:
But soon a noise disturb'd my quiet,
And plagu'd me with nocturnal Riot;
A Puss which in the ashes lay,
With grunting Pig began a Fray;
And prudent Dog, that Feuds might cease,
Most strongly bark'd to keep the Peace.
This Quarrel scarcely was decided,
By stick that ready lay provided;
But Reynard arch and cunning Loon,
Broke into my Appartment soon;
In hot pursuit of Ducks and Geese,
With fell intent the same to seize:
Their Cackling Plaints with strange surprize,
Chac'd Sleeps thick Vapours from my Eyes:
Raging I jump'd upon the Floar,
And like a Drunken Saylor Swore;
With Sword I fiercly laid about,
And soon dispers'd the Feather'd Rout:
The Poultry out of Window flew,
And Reynard cautiously withdrew:
The Dogs who this Encounter heard,
Fiercly themselves to aid me rear'd,
And to the Place of Combat run,
Exactly as the Field was won.
Fretting and hot as roasting Capon,
And greasy as a Flitch of Bacon;
I to the Orchard did repair,
To Breathe the cool and open Air;
Expecting there the rising Day,
Extended on a Bank I lay;
But Fortune here, that saucy Whore,
Disturb'd me worse and plagu'd me more,
Than she had done the night before.
Hoarse croaking Frogs did 'bout me ring,
Such Peals the Dead to Life wou'd bring,
A Noise might move their Wooden King.
I stuff'd my Ears with Cotten white
For fear of being deaf out-right,
And curst the melancholy Night:
But soon my Vows I did recant,
And Hearing as a Blessing grant;
When a confounded Rattle-Snake,
With hissing made my Heart to ake:
Not knowing how to fly the Foe,
Or whether in the Dark to go;
By strange good Luck, I took a Tree,
Prepar'd by Fate to set me free;
Where riding on a Limb a-stride,
Night and the Branches did me hide,
And I the Devil and Snake defy'd.
Not yet from Plagues exempted quite,
The curst Muskitoes did me bite;
Till rising Morn' and blushing Day,
Drove both my Fears and Ills away;
And from Night's Errors set me free.
Discharg'd from hospitable Tree;
I did to Planters Booth repair,
And there at Breakfast nobly Fare,
On rashier broil'd of infant Bear:
I thought the Cub delicious Meat,
Which ne'er did ought but Chesnuts eat;
Nor was young Orsin's flesh the worse,
Because he suck'd a Pagan Nurse.
Our Breakfast done, my Landlord stout,
Handed a Glass of Rum about;
Pleas'd with the Treatment I did find,
I took my leave of Oast so kind;
Who to oblige me, did provide,
His eldest Son to be my Guide,
And lent me Horses of his own,
A skittish Colt, and aged Rhoan,
The four-leg'd prop of his Wife Joan.
Steering our Barks in Trot or Pace,
We sail'd directly for a place
In Mary-Land of high renown,
Known by the Name of Battle-Town.
To view the Crowds did there resort,
Which Justice made, and Law their sport,
In that sagacious County Court:
Scarce had we enter'd on the way,
Which thro' thick Woods and Marshes lay;
But Indians strange did soon appear,
In hot persuit of wounded Deer;
No mortal Creature can express,
His wild fantastick Air and Dress;
His painted Skin in colours dy'd,
His sable Hair in Satchel ty'd,
Shew'd Savages not free from Pride:
His tawny Thighs, and Bosom bare,
Disdain'd a useless Coat to wear,
Scorn'd Summer's Heat, and Winters Air;
His manly Shoulders such as please,
Widows and Wives, were bath'd in Grease
Of Cub and Bear, whose supple Oil
Prepar'd his Limbs 'gainst Heat or Toil.
Thus naked Pict in Battel fought,
Or undisguis'd his Mistress sought;
And knowing well his Ware was good,
Refus'd to screen it with a Hood;
His Visage dun, and chin that ne'er
Did Raizor feel or Scissers bere,
Or knew the Ornament of Hair,
Look'd sternly Grim, surpriz'd with Fear,
I spur'd my Horse, as he drew near:
But Rhoan who better knew than I,
The little Cause I had to fly;
Seem'd by his solemn steps and pace,
Resolv'd I shou'd the Specter face,
Nor faster mov'd, tho' spur'd and lick'd,
Than Balaam's Ass by Prophet kick'd.
Kekicknitop the Heathen cry'd;
How is it Tom. my Friend reply'd:
Judging from thence the Brute was civel,
I boldly fac'd the Courteous Devil;
And lugging out a Dram of Rum,
I gave his Tawny worship some:
Who in his language as I guess,
(My Guide informing me no less,)
Implored the Devil, me to bless.
I thank'd him for his good Intent,
And forwards on my Journey went,
Discoursing as along I rode,
Whether this Race was framed by God
Or whether some Malignant pow'r,
Contriv'd them in an evil hour
And from his own Infernal Look,
Their Dusky form and Image took:
From hence we fell to Argument
Whence Peopled was this Continent.
My Friend suppos'd Tartarians wild,
Or Chinese from their Home exiled;
Wandering thro' Mountains hid with Snow,
And Rills did in the Vallies flow,
Far to the South of Mexico:
Broke thro' the Barrs which Nature cast,
And wide unbeaten Regions past,
Till near those Streams the humane deludge roll'd,
Which sparkling shin'd with glittering Sands of Gold,
And fetch Pizarro from the Iberian Shoar,
To Rob the Natives of their fatal Stoar.
I Smil'd to hear my young Logician,
Thus Reason like a Politician;
Who ne're by Fathers Pains and Earning
Had got at Mother Cambridge Learning;
Where Lubber youth just free from birch
Most stoutly drink to prop the Church;
Nor with Grey Groat had taken Pains
To purge his Head and Cleanse his Reines:
And in obedience to the Colledge,
Had pleas'd himself with carnal Knowledge:
And tho' I lik'd the youngester's Wit,
I judg'd the Truth he had not hit;
And could not choose but smile to think
What they could do for Meat and Drink,
Who o'er so many Desarts ran,
With Brats and Wives in Caravan;
Unless perchance they'd got the Trick,
To eat no more than Porker sick;
Or could with well contented Maws,
Quarter like Bears upon their Paws.
Thinking his Reasons to confute,
I gravely thus commenc'd Dispute,
And urg'd that tho' a Chinese Host,
Might penetrate this Indian Coast;
Yet this was certainly most true,
They never cou'd the Isles subdue;
For knowing not to steer a Boat,
They could not on the Ocean float,
Or plant their Sunburnt Colonies,
In Regions parted by the Seas:
I thence inferr'd Phœnicians old,
Discover'd first with Vessels bold
These Western Shoars, and planted here,
Returning once or twice a Year,
With Naval Stoars and Lasses kind,
To comfort those were left behind;
Till by the Winds and Tempest toar,
From their intended Golden Shoar;
They suffer'd Ship-wreck, or were drown'd,
And lost the World so newly found.
But after long and learn'd Contention,
We could not finish our dissention;
And when that both had talk'd their fill,
We had the self same Notion still.
Thus Parson grave well read and Sage,
Does in dispute with Priest engage;
The one protests they are not Wise,
Who judge by Sense and trust their Eyes;
And vows he'd burn for it at Stake,
That Man may God his Maker make;
The other smiles at his Religion,
And vows he's but a learned Widgeon:
And when they have empty'd all their stoar
From Books and Fathers, are not more
Convinc'd or wiser than before.
Of Friends unkind, and empty Purse;
Plagues worse than fill'd Pandora's Box,
I took my leave of Albion's Rocks:
With heavy Heart, concern'd that I
Was forc'd my Native Soil to fly,
And the Old World must bid good-buy.
But Heav'n ordain'd it should be so,
And to repine is vain we know:
Freighted with Fools, from Plymouth sound,
To Mary-Land our Ship was bound,
Where we arriv'd in dreadful Pain,
Shock'd by the Terrours of the Main;
For full three Months, our wavering Boat,
Did thro' the surley Ocean float,
And furious Storms and threat'ning Blasts,
Both tore our Sails and sprung our Masts:
12
Such Ills, we anchor'd at the Cape;
But weighing soon, we plough'd the Bay,
To Cove it in Piscato-way,
Intending there to open Store,
I put myself and Goods a-shore:
Where soon repair'd a numerous Crew,
In Shirts and Drawers of Scotch-cloth Blue.
With neither Stockings, Hat, nor Shooe.
These Sot-weed Planters Crowd the Shoar,
In Hue as tawny as a Moor:
Figures so strange, no God design'd,
To be a part of Humane Kind:
But wanton Nature, void of Rest,
Moulded the brittle Clay in Jest.
At last a Fancy very odd
Took me, this was the Land of Nod;
Planted at first, when Vagrant Cain,
His Brother had unjustly slain:
Then conscious of the Crime he'd done,
From Vengeance dire, he hither run;
And in a Hut supinely dwelt,
The first in Furs and Sot-weed dealt.
And ever since his Time, the Place,
Has harbour'd a detested Race;
Who when they cou'd not live at Home,
For Refuge to these Worlds did roam;
In hopes by Flight they might prevent,
The Devil and his fell intent;
Obtain from Tripple Tree repreive,
And Heav'n and Hell alike deceive:
But e're their Manners I display,
I think it fit I open lay
My Entertainment by the way;
That Strangers well may be aware on,
What homely Diet they must fare on.
13
But Conversation's lost, and Manners drown'd.
I crost unto the other side,
A River whose impetuous Tide,
The Savage Borders does divide;
In such a shining odd invention,
I scarce can give its due Dimention.
The Indians call this watry Waggon
Canoo, a Vessel none can brag on;
Cut from a Popular-Tree, or Pine,
And fashion'd like a Trough for Swine:
In this most noble Fishing-Boat,
I boldly put myself a-float;
Standing Erect, with Legs stretch'd wide,
We paddled to the other side:
Where being Landed safe by hap,
As Sol fell into Thetis Lap.
A ravenous Gang bent on the stroul,
Of Wolves for Prey, began to howl;
This put me in a pannick Fright,
Least I should be devoured quite:
But as I there a musing stood,
And quite benighted in a Wood,
A Female Voice pierc'd thro' my Ears,
Crying, You Rogue drive home the Steers.
I listen'd to th' attractive sound,
And straight a Herd of Cattel found
Drove by a Youth, and homewards bound:
Cheer'd with the sight, I straight thought fit,
To ask where I a Bed might get.
The surley Peasant bid me stay,
And ask'd from whom I'de run away.
Surprized at such a saucy Word,
I instantly lugg'd out my Sword;
Swearing I was no Fugitive,
But from Great-Britain did arrive,
In hopes I better there might Thrive.
To which he mildly made reply,
I beg your Pardon, Sir, that I
14
But if you please to go with me,
To yonder House, you'll welcome be.
Encountring soon the smoaky Seat,
The Planter old did thus me greet:
“Whether you come from Goal or Colledge,
“You're welcome to my certain Knowledge;
“And if you please all Night to stay,
“My Son shall put you in the way.
Which offer I most kindly took,
And for a Seat did round me look;
When presently amongst the rest,
He plac'd his unknown English Guest,
Who found them drinking for a whet,
A Cask of Syder on the Fret,
Till Supper came upon the Table,
On which I fed whilst I was able.
So after hearty Entertainment,
Of Drink and Victuals without Payment;
For Planters Tables, you must know,
Are free for all that come and go.
While Pon and Milk, with Mush well stoar'd,
In wooden Dishes grac'd the Board;
With Homine and Syder-pap,
(Which scarce a hungry Dog wou'd lap)
Well stuff'd with Fat, from Bacon fry'd,
Or with Molossus dulcify'd.
Then out our Landlord pulls a Pouch,
As greasy as the Leather Couch
On which he sat, and straight begun,
To load with Weed his Indian Gun;
In length, scarce longer than ones Finger,
Or that for which the Ladies linger.
His Pipe smoak'd out with aweful Grace,
With aspect grave and solemn pace;
The reverend Sire walks to a Chest,
Of all his Furniture the best,
Closely confin'd within a Room,
Which seldom felt the weight of Broom;
15
And nodding to me, thus begun:
I find, says he, you don't much care,
For this our Indian Country Fare;
But let me tell you, Friend of mine,
You may be glad of it in time,
Tho' now your Stomach is so fine;
And if within this Land you stay,
You'll find it true what I do say.
This said, the Rundlet up he threw,
And bending backwards strongly drew:
I pluck'd as stoutly for my part,
Altho' it made me sick at Heart,
And got so soon into my Head
I scarce cou'd find my way to Bed;
Where I was instantly convey'd
By one who pass'd for Chamber-Maid;
Tho' by her loose and sluttish Dress,
She rather seem'd a Bedlam-Bess:
Curious to know from whence she came,
I prest her to declare her Name.
She Blushing, seem'd to hide her Eyes,
And thus in Civil Terms replies;
In better Times, e'er to this Land,
I was unhappily Trapann'd;
Perchance as well I did appear,
As any Lord or Lady here,
Not then a Slave for twice two Year.
My Cloaths were fashionably new,
Nor were my Shifts of Linnen Blue;
But things are changed now at the Hoe,
I daily work, and Bare-foot go,
In weeding Corn or feeding Swine,
I spend my melancholy Time.
Kidnap'd and Fool'd, I hither fled,
To shun a hated Nuptial Bed,
16
Worse Plagues than those I left behind.
Whate'er the Wanderer did profess,
Good-faith I cou'd not choose but guess
The Cause which brought her to this place,
Was supping e'er the Priest said Grace.
Quick as my Thoughts, the Slave was fled,
(Her Candle left to shew my Bed)
Which made of Feathers soft and good,
Close in the Chimney-corner stood;
I threw me down expecting Rest,
To be in golden Slumbers blest:
But soon a noise disturb'd my quiet,
And plagu'd me with nocturnal Riot;
A Puss which in the ashes lay,
With grunting Pig began a Fray;
And prudent Dog, that Feuds might cease,
Most strongly bark'd to keep the Peace.
This Quarrel scarcely was decided,
By stick that ready lay provided;
But Reynard arch and cunning Loon,
Broke into my Appartment soon;
In hot pursuit of Ducks and Geese,
With fell intent the same to seize:
Their Cackling Plaints with strange surprize,
Chac'd Sleeps thick Vapours from my Eyes:
Raging I jump'd upon the Floar,
And like a Drunken Saylor Swore;
With Sword I fiercly laid about,
And soon dispers'd the Feather'd Rout:
The Poultry out of Window flew,
And Reynard cautiously withdrew:
The Dogs who this Encounter heard,
Fiercly themselves to aid me rear'd,
And to the Place of Combat run,
Exactly as the Field was won.
17
And greasy as a Flitch of Bacon;
I to the Orchard did repair,
To Breathe the cool and open Air;
Expecting there the rising Day,
Extended on a Bank I lay;
But Fortune here, that saucy Whore,
Disturb'd me worse and plagu'd me more,
Than she had done the night before.
Hoarse croaking Frogs did 'bout me ring,
Such Peals the Dead to Life wou'd bring,
A Noise might move their Wooden King.
I stuff'd my Ears with Cotten white
For fear of being deaf out-right,
And curst the melancholy Night:
But soon my Vows I did recant,
And Hearing as a Blessing grant;
When a confounded Rattle-Snake,
With hissing made my Heart to ake:
Not knowing how to fly the Foe,
Or whether in the Dark to go;
By strange good Luck, I took a Tree,
Prepar'd by Fate to set me free;
Where riding on a Limb a-stride,
Night and the Branches did me hide,
And I the Devil and Snake defy'd.
Not yet from Plagues exempted quite,
The curst Muskitoes did me bite;
Till rising Morn' and blushing Day,
Drove both my Fears and Ills away;
And from Night's Errors set me free.
Discharg'd from hospitable Tree;
I did to Planters Booth repair,
And there at Breakfast nobly Fare,
On rashier broil'd of infant Bear:
I thought the Cub delicious Meat,
Which ne'er did ought but Chesnuts eat;
18
Because he suck'd a Pagan Nurse.
Our Breakfast done, my Landlord stout,
Handed a Glass of Rum about;
Pleas'd with the Treatment I did find,
I took my leave of Oast so kind;
Who to oblige me, did provide,
His eldest Son to be my Guide,
And lent me Horses of his own,
A skittish Colt, and aged Rhoan,
The four-leg'd prop of his Wife Joan.
Steering our Barks in Trot or Pace,
We sail'd directly for a place
In Mary-Land of high renown,
Known by the Name of Battle-Town.
To view the Crowds did there resort,
Which Justice made, and Law their sport,
In that sagacious County Court:
Scarce had we enter'd on the way,
Which thro' thick Woods and Marshes lay;
But Indians strange did soon appear,
In hot persuit of wounded Deer;
No mortal Creature can express,
His wild fantastick Air and Dress;
His painted Skin in colours dy'd,
His sable Hair in Satchel ty'd,
Shew'd Savages not free from Pride:
His tawny Thighs, and Bosom bare,
Disdain'd a useless Coat to wear,
Scorn'd Summer's Heat, and Winters Air;
His manly Shoulders such as please,
Widows and Wives, were bath'd in Grease
Of Cub and Bear, whose supple Oil
Prepar'd his Limbs 'gainst Heat or Toil.
Thus naked Pict in Battel fought,
Or undisguis'd his Mistress sought;
And knowing well his Ware was good,
Refus'd to screen it with a Hood;
19
Did Raizor feel or Scissers bere,
Or knew the Ornament of Hair,
Look'd sternly Grim, surpriz'd with Fear,
I spur'd my Horse, as he drew near:
But Rhoan who better knew than I,
The little Cause I had to fly;
Seem'd by his solemn steps and pace,
Resolv'd I shou'd the Specter face,
Nor faster mov'd, tho' spur'd and lick'd,
Than Balaam's Ass by Prophet kick'd.
Kekicknitop the Heathen cry'd;
How is it Tom. my Friend reply'd:
Judging from thence the Brute was civel,
I boldly fac'd the Courteous Devil;
And lugging out a Dram of Rum,
I gave his Tawny worship some:
Who in his language as I guess,
(My Guide informing me no less,)
Implored the Devil, me to bless.
I thank'd him for his good Intent,
And forwards on my Journey went,
Discoursing as along I rode,
Whether this Race was framed by God
Or whether some Malignant pow'r,
Contriv'd them in an evil hour
And from his own Infernal Look,
Their Dusky form and Image took:
20
Whence Peopled was this Continent.
My Friend suppos'd Tartarians wild,
Or Chinese from their Home exiled;
Wandering thro' Mountains hid with Snow,
And Rills did in the Vallies flow,
Far to the South of Mexico:
Broke thro' the Barrs which Nature cast,
And wide unbeaten Regions past,
Till near those Streams the humane deludge roll'd,
Which sparkling shin'd with glittering Sands of Gold,
And fetch Pizarro from the Iberian Shoar,
To Rob the Natives of their fatal Stoar.
I Smil'd to hear my young Logician,
Thus Reason like a Politician;
Who ne're by Fathers Pains and Earning
Had got at Mother Cambridge Learning;
Where Lubber youth just free from birch
Most stoutly drink to prop the Church;
Nor with Grey Groat had taken Pains
To purge his Head and Cleanse his Reines:
And in obedience to the Colledge,
Had pleas'd himself with carnal Knowledge:
And tho' I lik'd the youngester's Wit,
I judg'd the Truth he had not hit;
And could not choose but smile to think
What they could do for Meat and Drink,
Who o'er so many Desarts ran,
With Brats and Wives in Caravan;
Unless perchance they'd got the Trick,
To eat no more than Porker sick;
Or could with well contented Maws,
Quarter like Bears upon their Paws.
21
I gravely thus commenc'd Dispute,
And urg'd that tho' a Chinese Host,
Might penetrate this Indian Coast;
Yet this was certainly most true,
They never cou'd the Isles subdue;
For knowing not to steer a Boat,
They could not on the Ocean float,
Or plant their Sunburnt Colonies,
In Regions parted by the Seas:
I thence inferr'd Phœnicians old,
Discover'd first with Vessels bold
These Western Shoars, and planted here,
Returning once or twice a Year,
With Naval Stoars and Lasses kind,
To comfort those were left behind;
Till by the Winds and Tempest toar,
From their intended Golden Shoar;
They suffer'd Ship-wreck, or were drown'd,
And lost the World so newly found.
But after long and learn'd Contention,
We could not finish our dissention;
And when that both had talk'd their fill,
We had the self same Notion still.
Thus Parson grave well read and Sage,
Does in dispute with Priest engage;
The one protests they are not Wise,
Who judge by Sense and trust their Eyes;
And vows he'd burn for it at Stake,
That Man may God his Maker make;
The other smiles at his Religion,
And vows he's but a learned Widgeon:
22
From Books and Fathers, are not more
Convinc'd or wiser than before.
Scarce had we finish'd serious Story,
But I espy'd the Town before me,
And roaring Planters on the ground,
Drinking of Healths in Circle round:
Dismounting Steed with friendly Guide,
Our Horses to a Tree we ty'd,
And forwards pass'd amongst the Rout,
To chuse convenient Quarters out:
But being none were to be found,
We sat like others on the ground
Carousing Punch in open Air
Till Cryer did the Court declare;
The planting Rabble being met,
Their Drunken Worships likewise set:
Cryer proclaims that Noise shou'd cease,
And streight the Lawyers broke the Peace:
Wrangling for Plaintiff and Defendant,
I thought they ne'er would make an end on't:
With nonsense, stuff and false quotations,
With brazen Lyes and Allegations;
And in the splitting of the Cause,
They us'd such Motions with their Paws,
As shew'd their Zeal was strongly bent,
In Blows to end the Argument.
A reverend Judge, who to the shame
Of all the Bench, cou'd write his Name;
At Petty-fogger took offence,
And wonder'd at his Impudence.
My Neighbour Dash with scorn replies,
And in the Face of Justice flies:
The Bench in fury streight divide,
And Scribbles take, or Judges side;
The Jury, Lawyers, and their Clyents,
Contending, fight like earth-born Gyants:
But Sheriff wily lay perdue,
Hoping Indictments wou'd ensue,
And when ------
A Hat or Wig fell in the way,
He seiz'd them for the Queen as stray:
The Court adjourn'd in usual manner,
In Battle Blood, and fractious Clamour;
I thought it proper to provide,
A Lodging for myself and Guide,
So to our Inn we march'd away,
Which at a little distance lay;
Where all things were in such Confusion,
I thought the World at its conclusion:
A Herd of Planters on the ground,
O'er-whelm'd with Punch, dead drunk we found:
Others were fighting and contending,
Some burnt their Cloaths to save the mending.
A few whose Heads by frequent use,
Could better bare the potent Juice,
Gravely debated State Affairs.
Whilst I most nimbly trip'd up Stairs;
Leaving my Friend discoursing oddly,
And mixing things Prophane and Godly:
Just then beginning to be Drunk,
As from the Company I slunk,
To every Room and Nook I crept,
In hopes I might have somewhere slept;
But all the bedding was possest
By one or other drunken Guest:
But after looking long about,
I found an antient Corn-loft out,
Glad that I might in quiet sleep,
And there my bones unfractur'd keep.
I lay'd me down secure from Fray,
And soundly snoar'd till break of Day;
When waking fresh I sat upright,
And found my Shoes were vanish'd quite;
Hat, Wig, and Stockings, all were fled
From this extended Indian Bed:
Vext at the Loss of Goods and Chattel,
I swore I'd give the Rascal battel,
Who had abus'd me in this sort,
And Merchant Stranger made his Sport.
I furiously descended Ladder;
No Hare in March was ever madder:
In vain I search'd for my Apparel,
And did with Oast and Servants Quarrel;
For one whose Mind did much aspire
To Mischief, threw them in the Fire;
Equipt with neither Hat nor Shooe,
I did my coming hither rue,
And doubtful thought what I should do:
Then looking round, I saw my Friend
Lie naked on a Tables end;
A Sight so dismal to behold,
One wou'd have judg'd him dead and cold;
When wringing of his bloody Nose,
By fighting got we may suppose;
I found him not so fast asleep,
Might give his Friends a cause to weep:
Rise Oronooko, rise, said I,
And from this Hell and Bedlam fly.
My Guide starts up, and in amaze,
With blood-shot Eyes did round him gaze;
At length with many a sigh and groan,
He went in search of aged Rhoan;
But Rhoan, tho' seldom us'd to faulter,
Had fairly this time slipt his Halter;
And not content all Night to stay
Ty'd up from Fodder, ran away:
After my Guide to ketch him ran,
And so I lost both Horse and Man;
Which Disappointment, tho' so great,
Did only Mirth and Jests create:
Till one more Civil than the rest,
In Conversation for the best,
Observing that for want of Rhoan,
I should be left to walk alone;
Most readily did me intreat,
To take a Bottle at his Seat;
A Favour at that time so great,
I blest my kind propitious Fate;
And finding soon a fresh supply,
Of Cloaths from Stoar-house kept hard by,
I mounted streight on such a Steed,
Did rather curb, than whipping need;
And straining at the usual rate,
With spur of Punch which lay in Pate,
E'er long we lighted at the Gate:
Where in an antient Cedar House,
Dwelt my new Friend, a Cokerouse;
Whose Fabrick, tho' 'twas built of Wood,
Had many Springs and Winters stood;
When sturdy Oaks, and lofty Pines
Were level'd with Musmelion Vines,
And Plants eradicated were,
By Hurricanes into the air;
There with good Punch and apple Juice,
We spent our Hours without abuse:
Till Midnight in her sable Vest,
Persuaded Gods and Men to rest;
And with a pleasing kind surprize,
Indulg'd soft Slumbers to my Eyes.
Fierce Æthon courser of the Sun,
Had half his Race exactly run;
And breath'd on me a fiery Ray,
Darting hot Beams the following Day,
When snug in Blanket white I lay:
But Heat and Chinces rais'd the Sinner,
Most opportunely to his Dinner;
Wild Fowl and Fish delicious Meats,
As good as Neptune's Doxy eats,
Began our Hospitable Treat;
Fat Venson follow'd in the Rear,
And Turkies wild Luxurious Chear:
But what the Feast did most commend,
Was hearty welcom from my Friend.
Thus having made a noble Feast,
And eat as well as pamper'd Priest,
Madera strong in flowing Bowls,
Fill'd with extream, delight our Souls;
Till wearied with a purple Flood,
Of generous Wine (the Giant's blood,
As Poets feign) away I made,
For some refreshing verdant Shade;
Where musing on my Rambles strange,
And Fortune which so oft did change;
In midst of various Contemplations
Of Fancies odd, and Meditations,
I slumber'd long ---
Till hazy Night with noxious Dews,
Did Sleep's unwholsom Fetters lose:
With Vapours chil'd, and misty air,
To fire-side I did repair:
Near which a jolly Female Crew,
Were deep engag'd at Lanctre-Looe;
In Night rails white, with dirty Mein,
Such Sights are scarce in England seen:
I thought them first some Witches bent,
On Black Designs in dire Convent.
Till one who with affected air,
Had nicely learn'd to Curse and Swear:
Cry'd Dealing's lost is but a Flam,
And vow'd by G---d she'd keep her Pam.
When dealing through the board had run,
They ask'd me kindly to make one;
Not staying often to be bid,
I sat me down as others did:
We scarce had play'd a Round about,
But that these Indian Froes fell out.
D---m you, says one, tho' now so brave,
I knew you late a Four-Years Slave;
What if for Planters Wife you go,
Nature design'd you for the Hoe.
Rot you replies the other streight,
The Captain kiss'd you for his Freight;
And if the Truth was known aright,
And how you walk'd the Streets by night,
You'd blush (if one cou'd blush) for shame,
Who from Bridewell or Newgate came.
From Words they fairly fell to Blows,
And being loath to interpose,
Or meddle in the Wars of Punk,
Away to Bed in hast I slunk.
Waking next day, with aking Head,
And Thirst, that made me quit my Bed;
I rigg'd myself, and soon got up,
To cool my Liver with a Cup
Of Succahana fresh and clear,
Not half so good as English Beer;
Which ready stood in Kitchin Pail,
And was in fact but Adam's Ale;
For Planters Cellars you must know,
Seldom with good October flow,
But Perry Quince and Apple Juice,
Spout from the Tap like any Sluce;
Untill the Cask's grown low and stale,
They're forc'd again to Goad and Pail:
The soathing drought scarce down my Throat,
Enough to put a Ship a float,
With Cockerouse as I was sitting,
I felt a Feaver Intermitting;
A fiery Pulse beat in my Veins,
From Cold I felt resembling Pains:
This cursed seasoning I remember,
Lasted from March to cold December;
Nor would it then its Quarters shift,
Until by Cardus turn'd a drift,
And had my Doctress wanted skill,
Or Kitchin Physick at her will,
My Father's Son had lost his Lands,
And never seen the Goodwin-Sands:
But thanks to Fortune and a Nurse
Whose Care depended on my Purse,
I saw myself in good Condition,
Without the help of a Physitian:
At length the shivering ill relieved,
Which long my Head and Heart had grieved;
I then began to think with Care,
How I might sell my British Ware,
That with my Freight I might comply,
Did on my Charter party lie:
To this intent, with Guide before,
I tript it to the Eastern Shoar;
While riding near a Sandy Bay,
I met a Quaker, Yea and Nay;
A Pious Conscientious Rogue,
As e'er woar Bonnet or a Brogue,
Who neither Swore nor kept his Word,
But cheated in the Fear of God;
And when his Debts he would not pay,
By Light within he ran away.
With this sly Zealot soon I struck
A Bargain for my English Truck,
Agreeing for ten thousand weight,
Of Sot-weed good and fit for freight,
Broad Oronooko bright and sound,
The growth and product of his ground;
In Cask that should contain compleat,
Five hundred of Tobacco neat.
The Contract thus betwixt us made,
Not well acquainted with the Trade,
My Goods I trusted to the Cheat,
Whose crop was then aboard the Fleet;
And going to receive my own,
I found the Bird was newly flown:
Cursing this execrable Slave,
This damn'd pretended Godly Knave;
On due Revenge and Justice bent,
I instantly to Counsel went,
Unto an ambodexter Quack,
Who learnedly had got the knack
Of giving Glisters, making Pills,
Of filling Bonds, and forging Wills;
And with a stock of Impudence,
Supply'd his want of Wit and Sense;
With Looks demure, amazing People,
No wiser than a Daw in Steeple;
My Anger flushing in my Face,
I stated the pre[c]eeding Case:
And of my Money was so lavish,
That he'd have poyson'd half the Parish,
And hang'd his Father on a Tree,
For such another tempting Fee;
Smiling, said he, the Cause is clear,
I'll manage him you need not fear;
The Case is judg'd, good Sir, but look
In Galen, No—in my Lord Cook,
I vow to God I was mistook:
I'll take out a Provincial Writ,
And Trounce him for his Knavish Wit;
Upon my Life we'll win the Cause,
With all the ease I cure the Yaws:
Resolv'd to plague the holy Brother,
I set one Rogue to catch another;
To try the Cause then fully bent,
Up to Annapolis I went,
A City Situate on a Plain,
Where scarce a House will keep out Rain;
The Buildings fram'd with Cyprus rare,
Resembles much our Southwark Fair:
But Stranger here will scarcely meet
With Market-place, Exchange, or Street;
And if the Truth I may report,
'Tis not so large as Tottenham Court.
St. Mary's once was in repute,
Now here the Judges try the Suit,
And Lawyers twice a Year dispute.
As oft the Bench most gravely meet,
Some to get Drunk, and some to eat
A swinging share of Country Treat.
But as for Justice right or wrong,
Not one amongst the numerous throng,
Knows what they mean, or has the Heart,
To give his Verdict on a Stranger's part:
Now Court being call'd by beat of Drum,
The Judges left their Punch and Rum,
When Pettifogger Doctor draws,
His Paper forth, and opens Cause:
And least I shou'd the better get,
Brib'd Quack supprest his Knavish Wit.
So Maid upon the downy Field,
Pretends a Force, and Fights to yield:
The Byast Court without delay,
Adjudg'd my Debt in Country Pay;
In Pipe staves, Corn, or Flesh of Boar,
Rare Cargo for the English Shoar:
Raging with Grief, full speed I ran,
To joyn the Fleet at Kicketan;
Embarqu'd and waiting for a Wind,
I left this dreadful Curse behind.
But I espy'd the Town before me,
And roaring Planters on the ground,
Drinking of Healths in Circle round:
Dismounting Steed with friendly Guide,
Our Horses to a Tree we ty'd,
And forwards pass'd amongst the Rout,
To chuse convenient Quarters out:
But being none were to be found,
We sat like others on the ground
Carousing Punch in open Air
Till Cryer did the Court declare;
The planting Rabble being met,
Their Drunken Worships likewise set:
Cryer proclaims that Noise shou'd cease,
And streight the Lawyers broke the Peace:
Wrangling for Plaintiff and Defendant,
I thought they ne'er would make an end on't:
With nonsense, stuff and false quotations,
With brazen Lyes and Allegations;
And in the splitting of the Cause,
They us'd such Motions with their Paws,
As shew'd their Zeal was strongly bent,
In Blows to end the Argument.
A reverend Judge, who to the shame
Of all the Bench, cou'd write his Name;
At Petty-fogger took offence,
And wonder'd at his Impudence.
My Neighbour Dash with scorn replies,
And in the Face of Justice flies:
The Bench in fury streight divide,
And Scribbles take, or Judges side;
23
Contending, fight like earth-born Gyants:
But Sheriff wily lay perdue,
Hoping Indictments wou'd ensue,
And when ------
A Hat or Wig fell in the way,
He seiz'd them for the Queen as stray:
The Court adjourn'd in usual manner,
In Battle Blood, and fractious Clamour;
I thought it proper to provide,
A Lodging for myself and Guide,
So to our Inn we march'd away,
Which at a little distance lay;
Where all things were in such Confusion,
I thought the World at its conclusion:
A Herd of Planters on the ground,
O'er-whelm'd with Punch, dead drunk we found:
Others were fighting and contending,
Some burnt their Cloaths to save the mending.
A few whose Heads by frequent use,
Could better bare the potent Juice,
Gravely debated State Affairs.
Whilst I most nimbly trip'd up Stairs;
Leaving my Friend discoursing oddly,
And mixing things Prophane and Godly:
Just then beginning to be Drunk,
As from the Company I slunk,
To every Room and Nook I crept,
In hopes I might have somewhere slept;
But all the bedding was possest
By one or other drunken Guest:
But after looking long about,
I found an antient Corn-loft out,
Glad that I might in quiet sleep,
And there my bones unfractur'd keep.
I lay'd me down secure from Fray,
And soundly snoar'd till break of Day;
When waking fresh I sat upright,
And found my Shoes were vanish'd quite;
Hat, Wig, and Stockings, all were fled
From this extended Indian Bed:
24
I swore I'd give the Rascal battel,
Who had abus'd me in this sort,
And Merchant Stranger made his Sport.
I furiously descended Ladder;
No Hare in March was ever madder:
In vain I search'd for my Apparel,
And did with Oast and Servants Quarrel;
For one whose Mind did much aspire
To Mischief, threw them in the Fire;
Equipt with neither Hat nor Shooe,
I did my coming hither rue,
And doubtful thought what I should do:
Then looking round, I saw my Friend
Lie naked on a Tables end;
A Sight so dismal to behold,
One wou'd have judg'd him dead and cold;
When wringing of his bloody Nose,
By fighting got we may suppose;
I found him not so fast asleep,
Might give his Friends a cause to weep:
Rise Oronooko, rise, said I,
And from this Hell and Bedlam fly.
My Guide starts up, and in amaze,
With blood-shot Eyes did round him gaze;
At length with many a sigh and groan,
He went in search of aged Rhoan;
But Rhoan, tho' seldom us'd to faulter,
Had fairly this time slipt his Halter;
And not content all Night to stay
Ty'd up from Fodder, ran away:
After my Guide to ketch him ran,
And so I lost both Horse and Man;
Which Disappointment, tho' so great,
Did only Mirth and Jests create:
Till one more Civil than the rest,
In Conversation for the best,
Observing that for want of Rhoan,
25
Most readily did me intreat,
To take a Bottle at his Seat;
A Favour at that time so great,
I blest my kind propitious Fate;
And finding soon a fresh supply,
Of Cloaths from Stoar-house kept hard by,
I mounted streight on such a Steed,
Did rather curb, than whipping need;
And straining at the usual rate,
With spur of Punch which lay in Pate,
E'er long we lighted at the Gate:
Where in an antient Cedar House,
Dwelt my new Friend, a Cokerouse;
Whose Fabrick, tho' 'twas built of Wood,
Had many Springs and Winters stood;
When sturdy Oaks, and lofty Pines
Were level'd with Musmelion Vines,
And Plants eradicated were,
By Hurricanes into the air;
There with good Punch and apple Juice,
We spent our Hours without abuse:
Till Midnight in her sable Vest,
Persuaded Gods and Men to rest;
And with a pleasing kind surprize,
Indulg'd soft Slumbers to my Eyes.
Fierce Æthon courser of the Sun,
Had half his Race exactly run;
And breath'd on me a fiery Ray,
Darting hot Beams the following Day,
When snug in Blanket white I lay:
But Heat and Chinces rais'd the Sinner,
Most opportunely to his Dinner;
Wild Fowl and Fish delicious Meats,
As good as Neptune's Doxy eats,
Began our Hospitable Treat;
Fat Venson follow'd in the Rear,
And Turkies wild Luxurious Chear:
26
Was hearty welcom from my Friend.
Thus having made a noble Feast,
And eat as well as pamper'd Priest,
Madera strong in flowing Bowls,
Fill'd with extream, delight our Souls;
Till wearied with a purple Flood,
Of generous Wine (the Giant's blood,
As Poets feign) away I made,
For some refreshing verdant Shade;
Where musing on my Rambles strange,
And Fortune which so oft did change;
In midst of various Contemplations
Of Fancies odd, and Meditations,
I slumber'd long ---
Till hazy Night with noxious Dews,
Did Sleep's unwholsom Fetters lose:
With Vapours chil'd, and misty air,
To fire-side I did repair:
Near which a jolly Female Crew,
Were deep engag'd at Lanctre-Looe;
In Night rails white, with dirty Mein,
Such Sights are scarce in England seen:
I thought them first some Witches bent,
On Black Designs in dire Convent.
Till one who with affected air,
Had nicely learn'd to Curse and Swear:
Cry'd Dealing's lost is but a Flam,
And vow'd by G---d she'd keep her Pam.
When dealing through the board had run,
They ask'd me kindly to make one;
Not staying often to be bid,
I sat me down as others did:
We scarce had play'd a Round about,
But that these Indian Froes fell out.
D---m you, says one, tho' now so brave,
I knew you late a Four-Years Slave;
What if for Planters Wife you go,
Nature design'd you for the Hoe.
27
The Captain kiss'd you for his Freight;
And if the Truth was known aright,
And how you walk'd the Streets by night,
You'd blush (if one cou'd blush) for shame,
Who from Bridewell or Newgate came.
From Words they fairly fell to Blows,
And being loath to interpose,
Or meddle in the Wars of Punk,
Away to Bed in hast I slunk.
Waking next day, with aking Head,
And Thirst, that made me quit my Bed;
I rigg'd myself, and soon got up,
To cool my Liver with a Cup
Of Succahana fresh and clear,
Not half so good as English Beer;
Which ready stood in Kitchin Pail,
And was in fact but Adam's Ale;
For Planters Cellars you must know,
Seldom with good October flow,
But Perry Quince and Apple Juice,
Spout from the Tap like any Sluce;
Untill the Cask's grown low and stale,
They're forc'd again to Goad and Pail:
The soathing drought scarce down my Throat,
Enough to put a Ship a float,
With Cockerouse as I was sitting,
I felt a Feaver Intermitting;
A fiery Pulse beat in my Veins,
From Cold I felt resembling Pains:
This cursed seasoning I remember,
Lasted from March to cold December;
Nor would it then its Quarters shift,
Until by Cardus turn'd a drift,
28
Or Kitchin Physick at her will,
My Father's Son had lost his Lands,
And never seen the Goodwin-Sands:
But thanks to Fortune and a Nurse
Whose Care depended on my Purse,
I saw myself in good Condition,
Without the help of a Physitian:
At length the shivering ill relieved,
Which long my Head and Heart had grieved;
I then began to think with Care,
How I might sell my British Ware,
That with my Freight I might comply,
Did on my Charter party lie:
To this intent, with Guide before,
I tript it to the Eastern Shoar;
While riding near a Sandy Bay,
I met a Quaker, Yea and Nay;
A Pious Conscientious Rogue,
As e'er woar Bonnet or a Brogue,
Who neither Swore nor kept his Word,
But cheated in the Fear of God;
And when his Debts he would not pay,
By Light within he ran away.
With this sly Zealot soon I struck
A Bargain for my English Truck,
Agreeing for ten thousand weight,
Of Sot-weed good and fit for freight,
Broad Oronooko bright and sound,
The growth and product of his ground;
In Cask that should contain compleat,
Five hundred of Tobacco neat.
The Contract thus betwixt us made,
Not well acquainted with the Trade,
My Goods I trusted to the Cheat,
Whose crop was then aboard the Fleet;
And going to receive my own,
I found the Bird was newly flown:
Cursing this execrable Slave,
This damn'd pretended Godly Knave;
29
I instantly to Counsel went,
Unto an ambodexter Quack,
Who learnedly had got the knack
Of giving Glisters, making Pills,
Of filling Bonds, and forging Wills;
And with a stock of Impudence,
Supply'd his want of Wit and Sense;
With Looks demure, amazing People,
No wiser than a Daw in Steeple;
My Anger flushing in my Face,
I stated the pre[c]eeding Case:
And of my Money was so lavish,
That he'd have poyson'd half the Parish,
And hang'd his Father on a Tree,
For such another tempting Fee;
Smiling, said he, the Cause is clear,
I'll manage him you need not fear;
The Case is judg'd, good Sir, but look
In Galen, No—in my Lord Cook,
I vow to God I was mistook:
I'll take out a Provincial Writ,
And Trounce him for his Knavish Wit;
Upon my Life we'll win the Cause,
With all the ease I cure the Yaws:
Resolv'd to plague the holy Brother,
I set one Rogue to catch another;
To try the Cause then fully bent,
Up to Annapolis I went,
A City Situate on a Plain,
Where scarce a House will keep out Rain;
The Buildings fram'd with Cyprus rare,
Resembles much our Southwark Fair:
30
With Market-place, Exchange, or Street;
And if the Truth I may report,
'Tis not so large as Tottenham Court.
St. Mary's once was in repute,
Now here the Judges try the Suit,
And Lawyers twice a Year dispute.
As oft the Bench most gravely meet,
Some to get Drunk, and some to eat
A swinging share of Country Treat.
But as for Justice right or wrong,
Not one amongst the numerous throng,
Knows what they mean, or has the Heart,
To give his Verdict on a Stranger's part:
Now Court being call'd by beat of Drum,
The Judges left their Punch and Rum,
When Pettifogger Doctor draws,
His Paper forth, and opens Cause:
And least I shou'd the better get,
Brib'd Quack supprest his Knavish Wit.
So Maid upon the downy Field,
Pretends a Force, and Fights to yield:
The Byast Court without delay,
Adjudg'd my Debt in Country Pay;
In Pipe staves, Corn, or Flesh of Boar,
Rare Cargo for the English Shoar:
Raging with Grief, full speed I ran,
To joyn the Fleet at Kicketan;
Embarqu'd and waiting for a Wind,
I left this dreadful Curse behind.
May Canniballs transported o'er the Sea
Prey on these Slaves, as they have done on me;
May never Merchant's, trading Sails explore
This Cruel, this Inhospitable Shoar;
But left abandon'd by the World to starve,
May they sustain the Fate they well deserve:
May they turn Savage, or as Indians Wild,
From Trade, Converse, and Happiness exil'd;
Recreant to Heaven, may they adore the Sun,
And into Pagan Superstitions run
For Vengence ripe—
May Wrath Divine then lay those Regions wast
Where no Man's Faithful, nor a Woman Chast.
Prey on these Slaves, as they have done on me;
May never Merchant's, trading Sails explore
This Cruel, this Inhospitable Shoar;
31
May they sustain the Fate they well deserve:
May they turn Savage, or as Indians Wild,
From Trade, Converse, and Happiness exil'd;
Recreant to Heaven, may they adore the Sun,
And into Pagan Superstitions run
For Vengence ripe—
May Wrath Divine then lay those Regions wast
Where no Man's Faithful, nor a Woman Chast.
FINIS.
'Tis the Custom for Servants to be obliged for four Years to very servile Work; after which time they have their Freedom.
These are the general Excuses made by English Women, which are sold, or sell themselves to Mary-Land.
Frogs are called Virginea Bells, and make, (both in that Country and Mary-Land) during the Night, a very hoarse ungrateful Noise.
These Indians worship the Devil, and pray to him as we do to God Almighty. 'Tis suppos'd, That America was peopl'd from Scythia or Tartaria, which Borders on China, by reason the Tartarians and Americans very much agree in their Manners, Arms and Government. Other Persons are of Opinion, that the Chinese first peopled the West Indies; imagining China and the Southern part of America to be contiguous. Others believe that the Phœnicians who were very skilful Mariners, first planted a Colony in the Isles of America, and supply'd the Persons left to inhabit there with Women and all other Necessaries; till either the Death or Shipwreck of the first Discoverers, or some other Misfortune occasioned the loss of the Discovery, which had been purchased by the Peril of the first Adventurers.
Pizarro was the Person that conquer'd Peru; a Man of a most bloody Disposition, base, treacherous, covetous and revengeful.
There is a very bad Custom in some Colledges, of giving the Students A Groat ad purgandas Rhenes, which is usually employ'd to the use of the Donor.
The Phœnicians were the best and boldest Saylors of Antiquity, and indeed the only Persons, in former Ages, who durst venture themselves on the Main Sea.
The Priests argue, That our Senses in the point of Transubstantiation ought not to be believed, for tho' the Consecrated Bread has all the accidents of Bread, yet they affirm, 'tis the Body of Christ, and not Bread but Flesh and Bones.
'Tis the Custom of the Planters, to throw their own, or any other Persons Hat, Wig, Shooes or Stockings in the Fire.
A Goad grows upon an Indian Vine, resembling a Bottle, when ripe it is hollow; this the Planters make use of to drink water out of.
There is a Law in this Country, the Plantiff may pay his Debt in Country pay, which consists in the produce of his Plantation.
33
SOTWEED REDIVIVUS. Or the Planters Looking-Glass.
Non videmus, id Manticæ quod in Tergo est.
Juv.
35
THE PREFACE TO THE READER.
MAY I be canoniz'd for a Saint, if I know what Apology to make for this dull Piece of Household stuff, any more than he that first invented the Horn-Book; all that can be said in its Defence, is, the Muses hath taken as much Pains in framing their brittle Ware, as Bruin does in licking her Cubs into Shape: And should that carping Cur, Momus, but breath on it, (vah! miseris,) we are quite undone; since one Blast from the Critick's Mouth, wou'd raise more Flaws in this Looking-Glass, than there be Circles in the Sphere; and when all is said and done, the Reader will judge just as he pleases. Well, if it be the Fate of these Sheets, to supply the Use of Waste Paper, the Author has done his Part, and is determined to write on, as often as his Inclination or Interest shall prompt him.
Vale.
TO THE Generous SUBSCRIBERS, &c.
THE Author finding all Attempts prove vain,
Those glittering Smiles from Fortune to obtain:
That purblind Goddess on the Fool bestows;
His tow'ring Grandeur to her Bounty owes;
Rather than on base Terms, the Point dispute,
To the Pierian Songsters makes his Suit,
In gingling Rhimes, to guide his gouty Feet,
The ancient Path of Pegasus to beat.
When mounted on old Roan, with Guide before;
The Spurious Off-spring of some Tawny-Moor,
To Battle-Town, the Author took his way,
That thro' thick Woods and fenny Marshes lay,
And mangled Oaks, laid blended on the Plains,
Cut down for Fuel by unthinking Swains.
Those glittering Smiles from Fortune to obtain:
That purblind Goddess on the Fool bestows;
His tow'ring Grandeur to her Bounty owes;
Rather than on base Terms, the Point dispute,
To the Pierian Songsters makes his Suit,
In gingling Rhimes, to guide his gouty Feet,
The ancient Path of Pegasus to beat.
36
The Spurious Off-spring of some Tawny-Moor,
To Battle-Town, the Author took his way,
That thro' thick Woods and fenny Marshes lay,
And mangled Oaks, laid blended on the Plains,
Cut down for Fuel by unthinking Swains.
At Ax and Hoe, like Negroe Asses tug,
To glut the Market with a poisonous Drug:
Destroy sound Timber, and lay waste their Lands,
To head a Troop of Aethiopian Hands,
Worse Villains are, than Forward's Newgate Bands:
Will by their Heirs be curst for these Mistakes,
E'er Saturn thrice his Revolution makes;
Whose thriftless State, this Looking-Glass is meant,
By way of Metaphor, to represent:
Wherein the Planter may his Fate behold,
By sad Experience, has been often told,
It's Industry, and not a nauseous Weed,
Must cloath the Naked, and the Hungry feed.
Correct those Errors length of Time have made,
Since the first Scheme of Government was laid
In Maryland, for propagating Trade,
Will never flourish, till we learn to sound
Great-Britain's Channel, and in Cash abound:
To glut the Market with a poisonous Drug:
Destroy sound Timber, and lay waste their Lands,
To head a Troop of Aethiopian Hands,
Worse Villains are, than Forward's Newgate Bands:
Will by their Heirs be curst for these Mistakes,
E'er Saturn thrice his Revolution makes;
Whose thriftless State, this Looking-Glass is meant,
By way of Metaphor, to represent:
Wherein the Planter may his Fate behold,
By sad Experience, has been often told,
It's Industry, and not a nauseous Weed,
Must cloath the Naked, and the Hungry feed.
Correct those Errors length of Time have made,
Since the first Scheme of Government was laid
In Maryland, for propagating Trade,
Will never flourish, till we learn to sound
Great-Britain's Channel, and in Cash abound:
The only best Expedient that remains,
To make the Profit equal to the Pains,
And set us on the Par with neighbouring Swains.
To make the Profit equal to the Pains,
And set us on the Par with neighbouring Swains.
This
thread-bare Theme the Author's Muse here sings,
Did never drink of the Castalian Springs,
Or bath'd her Limbs in Heliconian Streams,
Where fiery Phoebus cools his thirsty Beams.
Did never drink of the Castalian Springs,
Or bath'd her Limbs in Heliconian Streams,
Where fiery Phoebus cools his thirsty Beams.
Such
lofty Numbers and heroic Strains
Of sprightly Wit, as Virgil's Lays contains,
When elevated with Phoebian Fire,
On Tyber's Banks, he struck the warbling Lyre,
Are too sublime for her, that ne'er could fly
Above the Pitch of Grub-street Elegy,
Or the flat Sound of Doggerel Poetry:
So hopes Subscribers will be pleas'd to pass
A candid Thought on this, his Looking-Glass.
Of sprightly Wit, as Virgil's Lays contains,
When elevated with Phoebian Fire,
On Tyber's Banks, he struck the warbling Lyre,
Are too sublime for her, that ne'er could fly
Above the Pitch of Grub-street Elegy,
Or the flat Sound of Doggerel Poetry:
So hopes Subscribers will be pleas'd to pass
A candid Thought on this, his Looking-Glass.
37
Such kind Encouragement to Poesy give,
The Sotweed Factor by his Muse may live:
This Province wisheth well, and should be glad,
To see young Girls in Home-spun Vestments clad,
Plain as this Dress, wherein his Muse appears;
And tho' distasteful to their blooming Years,
Yet the Hibernian Lasses, we are told,
Such modest Garments wore in Days of old.
Nor was the best bred Nymph allow'd to wed,
And taste the Pleasures of a Nuptial Bed,
'Till she, before some Magistrate did go,
Equipp'd in Home-spun Weeds, from Head to Toe,
Swore solemnly on the Evangelist,
Each Flaxen Thread, her tender Hands did twist.
And were such Laws and Customs here in Force,
Maidens would soon industrious grow of course.
To Minstrel Sounds, prefer the Weaver's Loom,
As did Arachne, 'till she had her Doom;
The Sotweed Factor by his Muse may live:
This Province wisheth well, and should be glad,
To see young Girls in Home-spun Vestments clad,
Plain as this Dress, wherein his Muse appears;
And tho' distasteful to their blooming Years,
Yet the Hibernian Lasses, we are told,
Such modest Garments wore in Days of old.
Nor was the best bred Nymph allow'd to wed,
And taste the Pleasures of a Nuptial Bed,
'Till she, before some Magistrate did go,
Equipp'd in Home-spun Weeds, from Head to Toe,
Swore solemnly on the Evangelist,
Each Flaxen Thread, her tender Hands did twist.
And were such Laws and Customs here in Force,
Maidens would soon industrious grow of course.
To Minstrel Sounds, prefer the Weaver's Loom,
As did Arachne, 'till she had her Doom;
Improve each Minute at the Flaxen Wheel,
That now think Scorn, to exercise the Reel.
That now think Scorn, to exercise the Reel.
But
as young Cloe may think it too hard,
Her matrimonial Geer, to spin and card,
Before she dare, by Strephon be embrac'd,
By Bride-maids, on her Wedding Night, unlac'd:
So if it were ordain'd, to end the Strife,
No Swain should be allow'd to have a Wife,
On any Terms, 'till he Three Thousand Weight
Of Merchantable Hemp, and fit for Freight,
Or Flax had made, I dare be bold to say,
Strephon would have no Time at Cards to play,
On Horse-Racing, his Substance throw away,
'Till he the Gordian-Knot with Cloe ty'd,
By Industry, obtain'd her for his Bride.
Her matrimonial Geer, to spin and card,
Before she dare, by Strephon be embrac'd,
By Bride-maids, on her Wedding Night, unlac'd:
So if it were ordain'd, to end the Strife,
No Swain should be allow'd to have a Wife,
On any Terms, 'till he Three Thousand Weight
Of Merchantable Hemp, and fit for Freight,
Or Flax had made, I dare be bold to say,
Strephon would have no Time at Cards to play,
On Horse-Racing, his Substance throw away,
'Till he the Gordian-Knot with Cloe ty'd,
By Industry, obtain'd her for his Bride.
39
[[CANTO I]]
Bound up to Port Annapolis,
The famous Beau Metropolis
Of Maryland, of small Renown,
When Anna first wore England's Crown,
Is now grown rich and opulent;
The awful Seat of Government.
Well mounted on my aged Pacer,
In youthful Days, had been a Racer,
For Severn Banks, my Course I steer'd;
And spurring Jack, no Danger fear'd;
Within the City Walls appear'd,
As Aethon, Courser of the Sun,
Had half his Race exactly run;
There having first secur'd my Prancer,
To Stable nimbly did advance, Sir.
I pass'd Aestrea's Temple Gates,
Where the High Court of Delegates
Assembled were, with Resolution,
To fortify their Constitution,
By Laws, that should, to say no more,
The Common-Weal to Health restore;
Consumptive is, and sickly grown;
As shall in proper Place be shewn;
Reduc'd to Penury indeed,
By feeding on this Indian Weed.
The famous Beau Metropolis
Of Maryland, of small Renown,
When Anna first wore England's Crown,
Is now grown rich and opulent;
The awful Seat of Government.
Well mounted on my aged Pacer,
In youthful Days, had been a Racer,
For Severn Banks, my Course I steer'd;
And spurring Jack, no Danger fear'd;
Within the City Walls appear'd,
As Aethon, Courser of the Sun,
Had half his Race exactly run;
There having first secur'd my Prancer,
To Stable nimbly did advance, Sir.
I pass'd Aestrea's Temple Gates,
Where the High Court of Delegates
Assembled were, with Resolution,
To fortify their Constitution,
By Laws, that should, to say no more,
The Common-Weal to Health restore;
Consumptive is, and sickly grown;
As shall in proper Place be shewn;
Reduc'd to Penury indeed,
By feeding on this Indian Weed.
For Remedy, both Houses joyn,
To settle here a Current Coin,
Without Exception, such as may,
Our Publick Dues and Clergy pay.
Grown Worldly wise, unwilling are,
To be put off with Neighbours Fare;
Hold Predial Tythes, secure in Bags,
Better than Paper made of Rags:
The Scribes likewise, and Pharisees,
Infected with the same Disease,
On Paper Money look a squint,
Care not to be made Fools in Print.
Thus what is meant for Publick Good,
I find to be misunderstood,
And taken in the worser Sense,
By those, care not for Paper Pence.
And tho' this Scheme should prove in vain,
The Case to me seems very plain;
Said I to Planter standing by,
And was for Paper Currency:
It's Money, be it what it will,
In Tan-Pit coin'd, or Paper-Mill,
That must the hungry Belly fill,
When summon'd to attend the Court,
Held at the Magisterial Port.
To settle here a Current Coin,
Without Exception, such as may,
Our Publick Dues and Clergy pay.
Grown Worldly wise, unwilling are,
To be put off with Neighbours Fare;
Hold Predial Tythes, secure in Bags,
Better than Paper made of Rags:
40
Infected with the same Disease,
On Paper Money look a squint,
Care not to be made Fools in Print.
Thus what is meant for Publick Good,
I find to be misunderstood,
And taken in the worser Sense,
By those, care not for Paper Pence.
And tho' this Scheme should prove in vain,
The Case to me seems very plain;
Said I to Planter standing by,
And was for Paper Currency:
It's Money, be it what it will,
In Tan-Pit coin'd, or Paper-Mill,
That must the hungry Belly fill,
When summon'd to attend the Court,
Held at the Magisterial Port.
So far, said he, with you I joyn;
Am glad to find your Thoughts suit mine:
And with Submission to the State,
I have a Project in my Pate,
May prove the Making of this Land,
If executed out of Hand;
Which is to give my Fancy vent,
Within my Pericranium Pent.
The levelling a standing Coin,
It matters not what Sort of Mine
It issues from, since ev'ry Thing
Is worth no more than it will bring.
Am glad to find your Thoughts suit mine:
And with Submission to the State,
I have a Project in my Pate,
May prove the Making of this Land,
If executed out of Hand;
Which is to give my Fancy vent,
Within my Pericranium Pent.
The levelling a standing Coin,
It matters not what Sort of Mine
It issues from, since ev'ry Thing
Is worth no more than it will bring.
Suppose a Statute Law was made,
For the Encouragement of Trade;
And Men of various Occupations,
Within his Majesty's Plantations,
That Copper Money, Tin, or Brass,
Throughout America should pass:
Which Coin shou'd the King's Image bear;
In equal Worth be ev'ry where:
Not subject to be clipt by Shears,
Like Yellow-Boys, have lost their Ears;
But as a Free-born Subject range,
Of different Size, for ready Change.
For the Encouragement of Trade;
And Men of various Occupations,
Within his Majesty's Plantations,
That Copper Money, Tin, or Brass,
Throughout America should pass:
Which Coin shou'd the King's Image bear;
In equal Worth be ev'ry where:
Not subject to be clipt by Shears,
Like Yellow-Boys, have lost their Ears;
But as a Free-born Subject range,
Of different Size, for ready Change.
41
This Dialogue was scarce begun,
As on the Walks we took a turn,
When sudden Noise alarm'd our Ears,
Filling the Town with Hopes and Fears,
That seem'd to Eccho from the Hive;
Whereat I grew inquisitive,
To know the Meaning of such Clamour;
Says One, in Drink, that made him stammer,
The Reason's this, if you must know it,
The House divided is, old Poet,
In voting for the Money Bill;
Which, tho' compos'd with wondrous Skill,
Will never pass, I dare be bold,
A Pipe of Wine on it to hold.
As on the Walks we took a turn,
When sudden Noise alarm'd our Ears,
Filling the Town with Hopes and Fears,
That seem'd to Eccho from the Hive;
Whereat I grew inquisitive,
To know the Meaning of such Clamour;
Says One, in Drink, that made him stammer,
The Reason's this, if you must know it,
The House divided is, old Poet,
In voting for the Money Bill;
Which, tho' compos'd with wondrous Skill,
Will never pass, I dare be bold,
A Pipe of Wine on it to hold.
This said, revolv'd on t'other Dose,
To Tavern steer'd an Oblique Course:
Which standing almost within Hollow,
I did his drunken Worship follow;
Seem'd by his reeling thro' the Street,
To be much founder'd in his Feet.
So reach'd the Bacchanalian Mansion,
Before the Host had gave him Sanction.
And meeting with young Politicians,
Dull antiquated State Physicians;
Replenishing their thirsty Souls
With Lemon Punch, in flowing Bowls.
Not waiting long for Invitation;
At Fire Side took up my Station;
As others did; were grown profuse,
Inspir'd by the potent Juice,
On the Proceedings of that Day,
Whilst some at Dice, pass'd Time away:
When one dubb'd Esqr; by Mistake,
His wise Remarks began to make,
On the new Plan for raising Pence,
Protesting, tho' it was the Sense
Of some, that sat in the wise Mote,
He cou'd not safely give his Vote,
For such an odd contriv'd Intention,
As e'er was laid before Convention:
Alledging, Planters, when in drink,
Wou'd light their Pipes with Paper Chink;
And knowing not to read, might be
Impos'd on, by such Currency.
To Tavern steer'd an Oblique Course:
Which standing almost within Hollow,
I did his drunken Worship follow;
Seem'd by his reeling thro' the Street,
To be much founder'd in his Feet.
So reach'd the Bacchanalian Mansion,
Before the Host had gave him Sanction.
And meeting with young Politicians,
Dull antiquated State Physicians;
Replenishing their thirsty Souls
With Lemon Punch, in flowing Bowls.
Not waiting long for Invitation;
At Fire Side took up my Station;
As others did; were grown profuse,
Inspir'd by the potent Juice,
On the Proceedings of that Day,
Whilst some at Dice, pass'd Time away:
When one dubb'd Esqr; by Mistake,
His wise Remarks began to make,
On the new Plan for raising Pence,
Protesting, tho' it was the Sense
Of some, that sat in the wise Mote,
He cou'd not safely give his Vote,
For such an odd contriv'd Intention,
As e'er was laid before Convention:
42
Wou'd light their Pipes with Paper Chink;
And knowing not to read, might be
Impos'd on, by such Currency.
These Reasons, Laughter did create;
The Subject was of our Debate;
'Till Midnight, in her Sable Vest,
Persuaded Gods and Men to Rest;
And with a pleasing kind Surprize,
Indulg'd soft Slumber to my Eyes.
I call'd the drowsy Passive Slave,
To light me to my downy Grave:
Where instantly I was convey'd,
By one that pass'd for Chamber-Maid,
Close by the Side of Planter laid.
Curious to know from whence he came,
I boldly crav'd his Worship's Name.
And tho' the Don at first seem'd sly,
At length he made this smart Reply.
The Subject was of our Debate;
'Till Midnight, in her Sable Vest,
Persuaded Gods and Men to Rest;
And with a pleasing kind Surprize,
Indulg'd soft Slumber to my Eyes.
I call'd the drowsy Passive Slave,
To light me to my downy Grave:
Where instantly I was convey'd,
By one that pass'd for Chamber-Maid,
Close by the Side of Planter laid.
Curious to know from whence he came,
I boldly crav'd his Worship's Name.
And tho' the Don at first seem'd sly,
At length he made this smart Reply.
I am, says he, that Cocherouse,
Once entertain'd you at his House,
When aged Roan, not us'd to falter,
If you remember, slipt his Halter;
Left Sotweed Factor in the Lurch,
As Presbyterians leave the Church:
However, since we here are met,
Let's, by Consent, take t'other Whet
Before we sleep; Content, said I;
Here, Gipsy, to the Cellar fly,
And bring us up a Flask of Clarret;
Since we are quarter'd in this Garret.
I think a Bottle has more Charms,
Than can be found in Morpheus Arms:
But finding the Mullatto fled,
To Chimney Nook, her native Bed;
And Night far spent, we thought it best,
To let the Aethiopian rest:
So gravely fell to Argument;
On the late Act of Parliament;
The Growth of Sotweed to prevent,
And give our Staple freer Vent.
And thus the Planter first began,
This Matter seriously to scan;
As in next Canto you will find,
Exactly copy'd from his Mind.
Once entertain'd you at his House,
When aged Roan, not us'd to falter,
If you remember, slipt his Halter;
Left Sotweed Factor in the Lurch,
As Presbyterians leave the Church:
However, since we here are met,
Let's, by Consent, take t'other Whet
Before we sleep; Content, said I;
Here, Gipsy, to the Cellar fly,
And bring us up a Flask of Clarret;
Since we are quarter'd in this Garret.
I think a Bottle has more Charms,
Than can be found in Morpheus Arms:
But finding the Mullatto fled,
To Chimney Nook, her native Bed;
And Night far spent, we thought it best,
To let the Aethiopian rest:
So gravely fell to Argument;
On the late Act of Parliament;
The Growth of Sotweed to prevent,
And give our Staple freer Vent.
43
This Matter seriously to scan;
As in next Canto you will find,
Exactly copy'd from his Mind.
CANTO II.
WHEN Charles the First, long since came hither,
In stormy and tempestuous Weather,
With Royal Grant, to settle here,
A Province, worthy of his Care;
Leaving behind, to raise up Seed,
And tend a stinking Indian Weed,
Scotch, English, and Hybernians wild,
From Sloth and Idleness exil'd.
Tobacco, then, no Duty paid;
But Time has almost sunk the Trade,
And Imposts on our Staple laid.
From scorching Africa's burnt Shore,
Brought Aethiopian Slaves great Store.
More Weeds turn out, to Heat inur'd,
Than by the Populace are cur'd,
Makes it a Drug, as Merchants feel,
Whose Chance it is in Trash to deal;
Fit only to manure the Earth,
In Physick Gardens, finds good Birth.
But had old Galen known the Pains,
Planters are at, for little Gains,
He would have curst it long ago;
In Quarters here so fast doth grow.
Plebians by it scarce can live,
To naked Brats Subsistance give.
In stormy and tempestuous Weather,
With Royal Grant, to settle here,
A Province, worthy of his Care;
Leaving behind, to raise up Seed,
And tend a stinking Indian Weed,
Scotch, English, and Hybernians wild,
From Sloth and Idleness exil'd.
Tobacco, then, no Duty paid;
But Time has almost sunk the Trade,
And Imposts on our Staple laid.
From scorching Africa's burnt Shore,
Brought Aethiopian Slaves great Store.
More Weeds turn out, to Heat inur'd,
Than by the Populace are cur'd,
Makes it a Drug, as Merchants feel,
Whose Chance it is in Trash to deal;
Fit only to manure the Earth,
In Physick Gardens, finds good Birth.
But had old Galen known the Pains,
Planters are at, for little Gains,
He would have curst it long ago;
In Quarters here so fast doth grow.
Plebians by it scarce can live,
To naked Brats Subsistance give.
These petty Charges not a few,
With Subsidies both old and new,
As Factors tell us, run so high,
They swallow up our Industry.
In whose undoubted Word and Honour,
(That Female Idol,) Pox upon her,
Planters oblig'd are to confide,
Or learn to plow the Ocean wide;
Had better trust to Home-spun Sails;
Go sell their Labour at the Scales,
Than be, by Bills of Sale undone;
Glad to Cape Fair, at last to run.
And other Frauds us'd in the Trade,
Has almost Beggars of some made;
Had rather by Shop Notes be bit,
Hundred per Cent pay for their Wit,
When Pride ambitious is to shine,
In gaudy Feathers rich and fine,
Than in coarse Goods lay out their Tubs,
With Merchants here, unless 'tis Scrubs:
Has put them on their Guard, for why?
It's better deal for Currency,
Than be impos'd on at that Rate,
Mundungus take, unfit for Freight.
With Subsidies both old and new,
As Factors tell us, run so high,
They swallow up our Industry.
In whose undoubted Word and Honour,
(That Female Idol,) Pox upon her,
Planters oblig'd are to confide,
Or learn to plow the Ocean wide;
Had better trust to Home-spun Sails;
Go sell their Labour at the Scales,
44
Glad to Cape Fair, at last to run.
And other Frauds us'd in the Trade,
Has almost Beggars of some made;
Had rather by Shop Notes be bit,
Hundred per Cent pay for their Wit,
When Pride ambitious is to shine,
In gaudy Feathers rich and fine,
Than in coarse Goods lay out their Tubs,
With Merchants here, unless 'tis Scrubs:
Has put them on their Guard, for why?
It's better deal for Currency,
Than be impos'd on at that Rate,
Mundungus take, unfit for Freight.
Thus, we go on, but do not see
What may the Issue of it be.
Take care the Poor may live and thrive,
Against the Stream are left to strive;
Wou'd be industrious, had we Pence,
Their Industry to recompence:
But to be paid with Indian Weed,
In Parcels, will not answer Need.
It's true, we may this Thread of Life
Spin out, in Penury and Strife;
Like Aesop's Swain, did Jove desire
To help his Cart out of the Mire;
To Jupiter at last apply,
For Help in our Extremity.
But Jove no Ear will lend to those,
That are their own unhappy Foes.
Then let us seriously reflect
Upon the worst we may expect,
Which is, with idle Drones to starve;
A Doom we justly do deserve:
Whilst blest with all Things here below,
That God and Nature can bestow,
To make us happy, would we be
Industrious as the frugal Bee,
That visits each mellifluous Flower,
To load with Tyme, her wooden Bower.
And tho a rich and fertile Soil,
As e're was water'd by the Nile,
Has luckily fell to our Share:
Yet maugre all our seeming Care:
We Strangers to the Goddess are.
Bright Ceres, whom the Poets feign,
To till the Ground, instructs the Swain,
By Industry t'improve his Lands,
Without the help of Savage Hands.
What may the Issue of it be.
Take care the Poor may live and thrive,
Against the Stream are left to strive;
Wou'd be industrious, had we Pence,
Their Industry to recompence:
But to be paid with Indian Weed,
In Parcels, will not answer Need.
It's true, we may this Thread of Life
Spin out, in Penury and Strife;
Like Aesop's Swain, did Jove desire
To help his Cart out of the Mire;
To Jupiter at last apply,
For Help in our Extremity.
But Jove no Ear will lend to those,
That are their own unhappy Foes.
Then let us seriously reflect
Upon the worst we may expect,
Which is, with idle Drones to starve;
A Doom we justly do deserve:
Whilst blest with all Things here below,
That God and Nature can bestow,
To make us happy, would we be
Industrious as the frugal Bee,
That visits each mellifluous Flower,
To load with Tyme, her wooden Bower.
And tho a rich and fertile Soil,
As e're was water'd by the Nile,
45
Yet maugre all our seeming Care:
We Strangers to the Goddess are.
Bright Ceres, whom the Poets feign,
To till the Ground, instructs the Swain,
By Industry t'improve his Lands,
Without the help of Savage Hands.
This is our Case, and will, I fear,
Grow worse and worse, the Course we steer.
Are grown too populous to thrive,
Upon a nauseous Vegetive.
And tho' the Law remains in Force,
The Market keeps its ebbing Course;
And will, unless, we settle here,
A Jubilee once in Five Year.
But as that may not take Perchance,
I will another Scheme advance,
Will do, says the projecting Don:
And thus in serious Tone went on.
Grow worse and worse, the Course we steer.
Are grown too populous to thrive,
Upon a nauseous Vegetive.
And tho' the Law remains in Force,
The Market keeps its ebbing Course;
And will, unless, we settle here,
A Jubilee once in Five Year.
But as that may not take Perchance,
I will another Scheme advance,
Will do, says the projecting Don:
And thus in serious Tone went on.
All Taxables work in the Ground,
Both Male and Female that are sound,
Should be allow'd Six Hundred Weight,
Of Sotweed good, and fit for Freight,
To plant; and he that dares tend more,
Shou'd wear the Broad R on his Door:
Remain in Misericordia,
'Till he the Fine in Specie pay.
Merchants likewise, our Staple buy,
Shou'd be oblig'd in Currency,
Or Bills, for the Sixth Part, to pay
Upon the Nail, without Delay:
The rest in Goods, at common Sale,
Or be committed, without Bail.
And that we may the better thrive;
Which is the Business of the Hive,
We ought conveniently to dwell
In Towns and Cities, buy and sell
Our Merchandize at publick Scales.
And as it often rains and hails,
Warehouses should in common be
Erected; where, for a small Fee,
Our Staple would be convey'd thither,
Securely screen'd from stormy Weather.
There, free from anxious needless Care,
We may, at Leisure, vend our Ware;
Barter for Goods, as hath been said:
And ready Cash, that must be paid,
Our publick Duties to defray,
And old Arrears of Quit-Rents pay.
A Tax equivalent has laid
Upon Tobacco, must be paid,
By Merchants, that the same Export,
In Bills, before it quits the Port.
But what is worst for Patent Lands,
By others held, it Debtor stands.
Both Male and Female that are sound,
Should be allow'd Six Hundred Weight,
Of Sotweed good, and fit for Freight,
To plant; and he that dares tend more,
Shou'd wear the Broad R on his Door:
Remain in Misericordia,
'Till he the Fine in Specie pay.
Merchants likewise, our Staple buy,
Shou'd be oblig'd in Currency,
Or Bills, for the Sixth Part, to pay
Upon the Nail, without Delay:
The rest in Goods, at common Sale,
Or be committed, without Bail.
And that we may the better thrive;
Which is the Business of the Hive,
We ought conveniently to dwell
In Towns and Cities, buy and sell
Our Merchandize at publick Scales.
And as it often rains and hails,
Warehouses should in common be
Erected; where, for a small Fee,
46
Securely screen'd from stormy Weather.
There, free from anxious needless Care,
We may, at Leisure, vend our Ware;
Barter for Goods, as hath been said:
And ready Cash, that must be paid,
Our publick Duties to defray,
And old Arrears of Quit-Rents pay.
A Tax equivalent has laid
Upon Tobacco, must be paid,
By Merchants, that the same Export,
In Bills, before it quits the Port.
But what is worst for Patent Lands,
By others held, it Debtor stands.
I must confess, 'tis just and true,
That Caesar should be paid his Due:
But one Man to monopolize
More Land, than yet he occupies,
And Foreigners the Quit-Rents pay,
In Sterling Coin, is not fair Play:
A Grievance ought to be suppress'd,
By Ways and Means, Caesar knows best.
Thus, has our Staple of small Worth,
To many Evils given Birth:
That like Ill Weeds, unhappy Case,
As says the Proverb, grows a-pace;
Which, to prevent, Physicians say,
Our Laws chalk out a wholesome Way:
But what is so, to speak the Truth,
Does not agree with every Tooth;
Nor will the strictest penal Laws,
Contriv'd by Statesmen, strike the Cause.
That Caesar should be paid his Due:
But one Man to monopolize
More Land, than yet he occupies,
And Foreigners the Quit-Rents pay,
In Sterling Coin, is not fair Play:
A Grievance ought to be suppress'd,
By Ways and Means, Caesar knows best.
Thus, has our Staple of small Worth,
To many Evils given Birth:
That like Ill Weeds, unhappy Case,
As says the Proverb, grows a-pace;
Which, to prevent, Physicians say,
Our Laws chalk out a wholesome Way:
But what is so, to speak the Truth,
Does not agree with every Tooth;
Nor will the strictest penal Laws,
Contriv'd by Statesmen, strike the Cause.
The only Way I know to heal
The ling'ring State of Common-weal,
Is to ordain all Taxes be,
As well the Priest, as Lawyer's Fee,
Hereafter paid in Currency;
Or with the Produce of our Grounds,
In Stinkebus too much abounds;
Else, 'tis in vain for us to hope,
With our Misfortunes long to cope.
The ling'ring State of Common-weal,
Is to ordain all Taxes be,
As well the Priest, as Lawyer's Fee,
Hereafter paid in Currency;
Or with the Produce of our Grounds,
In Stinkebus too much abounds;
Else, 'tis in vain for us to hope,
With our Misfortunes long to cope.
47
More wou'd loquatious Don have said,
Had Morpheus not come to my Aid,
The God of Sleep, with Leaden Charms,
Lock'd up the Planter in his Arms:
Where silent as the Night he lay,
Till Phosphor usher'd in the Day.
Had Morpheus not come to my Aid,
The God of Sleep, with Leaden Charms,
Lock'd up the Planter in his Arms:
Where silent as the Night he lay,
Till Phosphor usher'd in the Day.
CANTO III.
SCARCE had the Goddess of the Night,
Resign'd her Throne to Phoebus bright;
When calling for a Quart Decanter
Of Sack, I thus harangu'd the Planter:
Rise, Oroonoko, rise, said I,
And let us drink Prosperity
To Maryland, before we part;
Starting, says he, with all my Heart.
I wish my Country very well:
And tho' the Press with Schemes does swell,
To make us thrive at Home the better,
As P. P. tells us in his Letter,
If Planters wou'd be rul'd by me,
I will their best Physician be:
Prescribe the Means, wou'd, I am sure,
If rightly apply'd, work a Cure.
Resign'd her Throne to Phoebus bright;
When calling for a Quart Decanter
Of Sack, I thus harangu'd the Planter:
Rise, Oroonoko, rise, said I,
And let us drink Prosperity
To Maryland, before we part;
Starting, says he, with all my Heart.
I wish my Country very well:
And tho' the Press with Schemes does swell,
To make us thrive at Home the better,
As P. P. tells us in his Letter,
If Planters wou'd be rul'd by me,
I will their best Physician be:
Prescribe the Means, wou'd, I am sure,
If rightly apply'd, work a Cure.
First, let them Swamps and Marshes drain,
Fit to receive all Sorts of Grain,
Hemp, Flax, Rice; and let Cotton here,
In all its Autumn Dress appear:
One Bale of each, more Pence will yield
In Europe, than the richest Field
Of Oroonoko, I am sure,
If nicely handled in the Cure.
Fit to receive all Sorts of Grain,
Hemp, Flax, Rice; and let Cotton here,
In all its Autumn Dress appear:
One Bale of each, more Pence will yield
In Europe, than the richest Field
Of Oroonoko, I am sure,
If nicely handled in the Cure.
Next, may their Industry be seen,
In Pastures fat, and Meadows green;
Where Sheep and Cattle manure Ground,
In mighty Numbers shou'd abound.
The Hides will for their Grazing pay,
And Wool Misfortunes keep in Play,
Of those, must either work or starve,
Oblig'd for Wife and Bearns to carve:
Mechanicks then of ev'ry Sort,
And Mariners wou'd here resort,
When they hear Money circulates,
Within our Towns and City Gates.
In Pastures fat, and Meadows green;
Where Sheep and Cattle manure Ground,
In mighty Numbers shou'd abound.
The Hides will for their Grazing pay,
And Wool Misfortunes keep in Play,
48
Oblig'd for Wife and Bearns to carve:
Mechanicks then of ev'ry Sort,
And Mariners wou'd here resort,
When they hear Money circulates,
Within our Towns and City Gates.
But as this Land, like Albion's Isle,
Is compos'd of a different Soil,
So some shou'd plant, some drive the Plow;
And such as Hemp and Flax know how
To dress, shou'd exercise the Brake;
But not permitted be to make
More Grain, or other Merchandize,
Than may their Hands and Stocks suffice:
Nor shou'd Crop Merchants correspond,
On t'other Side the Herring-Pond,
Their pick'd and cull'd Tobacco send,
In weighty Cask, to some sly Friend,
Unless in Vessels of their own,
And Ships here built, as shall be shewn.
Is compos'd of a different Soil,
So some shou'd plant, some drive the Plow;
And such as Hemp and Flax know how
To dress, shou'd exercise the Brake;
But not permitted be to make
More Grain, or other Merchandize,
Than may their Hands and Stocks suffice:
Nor shou'd Crop Merchants correspond,
On t'other Side the Herring-Pond,
Their pick'd and cull'd Tobacco send,
In weighty Cask, to some sly Friend,
Unless in Vessels of their own,
And Ships here built, as shall be shewn.
But then, perhaps, it will be said,
By those (to venture) are afraid,
How shall these floating Castles be
Equipp'd, and fitted for the Sea?
A Doubt not difficult to solve,
Wou'd such (in Pence abound) resolve,
As the Phoenicians did of old,
To plow the Seas in Vessels bold;
Which Draft-men best know how to mould.
Materials here, of every kind,
May soon be found, were Youth inclin'd,
To practice the ingenious Art
Of Sailing, by Mercator's Chart.
The Woods with Timber Trees abound;
Near North-East, Iron may be found,
The best that ever yet was made,
As Vulcans say, on Anvil laid.
From Hemp and Flax, may Canvas Sails
And Ropes be drawn, that seldom fails,
In stormy Winds, to act their Part,
If twisted well by human Art.
By those (to venture) are afraid,
How shall these floating Castles be
Equipp'd, and fitted for the Sea?
A Doubt not difficult to solve,
Wou'd such (in Pence abound) resolve,
As the Phoenicians did of old,
To plow the Seas in Vessels bold;
Which Draft-men best know how to mould.
Materials here, of every kind,
May soon be found, were Youth inclin'd,
To practice the ingenious Art
Of Sailing, by Mercator's Chart.
The Woods with Timber Trees abound;
Near North-East, Iron may be found,
The best that ever yet was made,
As Vulcans say, on Anvil laid.
From Hemp and Flax, may Canvas Sails
And Ropes be drawn, that seldom fails,
In stormy Winds, to act their Part,
If twisted well by human Art.
49
Nothing is wanting to compleat,
Fit for the Sea, a trading Fleet,
But Industry and Resolution,
Wou'd quickly heal our Constitution,
Were we unanimously bent,
Impending Evils to prevent.
Can ne'er think to grow Rich and Great,
But by an Independant State;
Or hope to thrive, unless we try,
With Canvas Wings abroad to fly.
We then about the World might roam;
See how our Staple sells at Home;
Barbadoes and Jamaica drain;
Bring hither, from the Mines of Spain,
Moidores, Pistoles, and Cobbs, full Weight;
The very best of Spanish Plate.
Fit for the Sea, a trading Fleet,
But Industry and Resolution,
Wou'd quickly heal our Constitution,
Were we unanimously bent,
Impending Evils to prevent.
Can ne'er think to grow Rich and Great,
But by an Independant State;
Or hope to thrive, unless we try,
With Canvas Wings abroad to fly.
We then about the World might roam;
See how our Staple sells at Home;
Barbadoes and Jamaica drain;
Bring hither, from the Mines of Spain,
Moidores, Pistoles, and Cobbs, full Weight;
The very best of Spanish Plate.
But whether, with us they wou'd stay,
Is a hard Task for me to say;
Since Current Coin, in ev'ry State,
Invented was, to circulate:
And to restrain it, is as hard,
As Luna's Motion to retard,
Unless, by Act of Limitation,
We cou'd make Maryland its Station:
Oblige it like the constant Sun,
Beyond its Tropicks not to run,
Potomack River, (that's to say)
And Delaware's exuberant Bay.
But Copper-Coin, like vagrant Cain,
Wou'd never wander into Spain,
Or long in Misers Bags remain.
This said, the Glass he upwards threw,
And bending backwards, strongly drew.
I pledg'd his Worship in a Brimmer;
And thus retorted on the Sinner.
Is a hard Task for me to say;
Since Current Coin, in ev'ry State,
Invented was, to circulate:
And to restrain it, is as hard,
As Luna's Motion to retard,
Unless, by Act of Limitation,
We cou'd make Maryland its Station:
Oblige it like the constant Sun,
Beyond its Tropicks not to run,
Potomack River, (that's to say)
And Delaware's exuberant Bay.
But Copper-Coin, like vagrant Cain,
Wou'd never wander into Spain,
Or long in Misers Bags remain.
This said, the Glass he upwards threw,
And bending backwards, strongly drew.
I pledg'd his Worship in a Brimmer;
And thus retorted on the Sinner.
These Sentiments, I must confess,
Much Zeal for publick Good express:
But when all's done, as hath been said,
It's Industry must force a Trade:
Upon Mercator turn the Tables,
And cut those Interlopers Cables.
In Neighbouring Barks, export your Grain
To Islands in the Western Main.
Much Zeal for publick Good express:
But when all's done, as hath been said,
It's Industry must force a Trade:
Upon Mercator turn the Tables,
And cut those Interlopers Cables.
50
To Islands in the Western Main.
That's very true, the Don reply'd;
But they a Law have on their Side,
For Six Months Space, our Hands has ty'd,
Whereby they may this Province rifle,
And drain our Coffers for a Trifle.
But they a Law have on their Side,
For Six Months Space, our Hands has ty'd,
Whereby they may this Province rifle,
And drain our Coffers for a Trifle.
Your Laws said I, in Time may see
And feel their Insufficiency.
And feel their Insufficiency.
At this Reply, the Don sat mute,
And willing to conclude Dispute,
I, in few Lines, the Case sum'd up,
As Cockerouse drank off his Cup:
Then by the Poet be advis'd,
Said I to him, seem'd much disguis'd;
His Counsel's not to be despis'd.
Begin, be bold, old Horace cries,
And bravely venture to be wise.
In vain, he on the Brook Side stands,
With Shoes and Stockings in his Hands;
Waiting 'till all the Stream be past and gone,
That runs, (alas!) and ever will run on.
And willing to conclude Dispute,
I, in few Lines, the Case sum'd up,
As Cockerouse drank off his Cup:
Then by the Poet be advis'd,
Said I to him, seem'd much disguis'd;
His Counsel's not to be despis'd.
Begin, be bold, old Horace cries,
And bravely venture to be wise.
In vain, he on the Brook Side stands,
With Shoes and Stockings in his Hands;
Waiting 'till all the Stream be past and gone,
That runs, (alas!) and ever will run on.
FINIS.
53
AN ELEGY [on] the Death of the Honourable Nicholas Lowe, Esq:
Memor esto brevis Aevi
What means this Mourning, Ladies, has Death led.
Your Brother Captive to his Earthly Bed?
Is Lowe to Nature's chilly Womb returned,
[Who ca]utiously the fatal Summons shun'd?
[And V]ery rarely moisten would his Clay
[For F]ear he should a final Visit pay
[To t]he opacous Mansions of the Dead,
[By] Worms, vile Reptiles, be devouréd.
[He]re Kings and Beggars lie, the Gulph have shot,
[Toge]ther blended in the general Lot;
[Ming]le their Dust, and into Ashes turn;
[Distin]guish'd only by a gilded Urn,
[The m]arble Tomb erected o'er their Pile,
[Who] sway'd the Sceptre of Great Britain's Isle.
[Victo]rious DEATH, all are alike to Thee,
[The] tender Saplin and the Almond Tree;
[Whe]n FATE commands thou levellst with the Ground,
[The] pointed Dart gave Lowe his mortal Wound.
[No h]uman Art can brittle Life prolong,
[Our] Days are numbered and we must be gone
[Or soon] or late to whom we do belong.
[As so]on the vigorous Youth as aged Swain,
[Neve]r, ah! never to return again.
[Why] Should we then Lowe's Absence grieve, since all
[Have sha]r'd the Punishment by Adam's Fall
[But A]h! Maecenas, who his Death can bear,
[His] conduct knew, and unconcern'd appear.
[How cou]ld our Agent in his Winding Sheet
[The De]athless Trunk become bound Hand and Feet,
[Oh!] not in Floods of Tears his Exit mourn
[His] Ghost surrender'd with a dying Groan;
[For] if Lowe's Life impartially we scan,
[A cautio]us, sober, charitable Man;
[His Co]nversation innocently free,
[When] Business called him into Company
[Nor P]rone to Vice, or Immorality
[But] tho' none live so just as to be found
[With]out some Fault that may their Conscience wound,
[It ca]n be said, his Character to blast,
[He liv]'d and dy'd a Batchelor at last.
Your Brother Captive to his Earthly Bed?
Is Lowe to Nature's chilly Womb returned,
[Who ca]utiously the fatal Summons shun'd?
[And V]ery rarely moisten would his Clay
[For F]ear he should a final Visit pay
[To t]he opacous Mansions of the Dead,
[By] Worms, vile Reptiles, be devouréd.
[He]re Kings and Beggars lie, the Gulph have shot,
[Toge]ther blended in the general Lot;
[Ming]le their Dust, and into Ashes turn;
[Distin]guish'd only by a gilded Urn,
[The m]arble Tomb erected o'er their Pile,
[Who] sway'd the Sceptre of Great Britain's Isle.
[Victo]rious DEATH, all are alike to Thee,
[The] tender Saplin and the Almond Tree;
[Whe]n FATE commands thou levellst with the Ground,
[The] pointed Dart gave Lowe his mortal Wound.
[No h]uman Art can brittle Life prolong,
[Our] Days are numbered and we must be gone
[Or soon] or late to whom we do belong.
[As so]on the vigorous Youth as aged Swain,
[Neve]r, ah! never to return again.
54
[Have sha]r'd the Punishment by Adam's Fall
[But A]h! Maecenas, who his Death can bear,
[His] conduct knew, and unconcern'd appear.
[How cou]ld our Agent in his Winding Sheet
[The De]athless Trunk become bound Hand and Feet,
[Oh!] not in Floods of Tears his Exit mourn
[His] Ghost surrender'd with a dying Groan;
[For] if Lowe's Life impartially we scan,
[A cautio]us, sober, charitable Man;
[His Co]nversation innocently free,
[When] Business called him into Company
[Nor P]rone to Vice, or Immorality
[But] tho' none live so just as to be found
[With]out some Fault that may their Conscience wound,
[It ca]n be said, his Character to blast,
[He liv]'d and dy'd a Batchelor at last.
EPITAPH
[Lo] here he lies, wrapt in his winding Sheet,
[A] straea bound his Hands, and DEATH his Feet
And that he might of Happiness partake,
[JEH]OVAH did his soul to Heaven take,
[His Ha]beas Corpus mov'd his Body too,
[And] to this World he bid a long Adieu.
[Excha]nging all its gaudy Pageantry,
[For tha]t blest State of Immortality,
[Which] Saints enjoy to all Eternity,
[A] straea bound his Hands, and DEATH his Feet
And that he might of Happiness partake,
[JEH]OVAH did his soul to Heaven take,
[His Ha]beas Corpus mov'd his Body too,
[And] to this World he bid a long Adieu.
[Excha]nging all its gaudy Pageantry,
[For tha]t blest State of Immortality,
[Which] Saints enjoy to all Eternity,
BY E. Cooke. Laureat.
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