University of Virginia Library

LETTER VI.

I HAVE observed, in a former
letter, that the lease which Mr. Bull gave
to Charles Indigo, obliged him to receive
into his family all such persons as had
been attendants on Mr. Bull during his
sickness, and for whom he had no other
means of providing. This general indulgence
procured to Charles the reputation
of a very friendly, hospitable person, and
induced great numbers of other people
of various characters, views, and interests,
to seek an asylum within his limits. About
this time old Lewis had grown sick and
peevish, and had severely cudgelled some

of his apprentices, because they did not
make their P's and Q's exactly to his
mind.[1] The poor fellows, to prevent
worse treatment, fled from his house, and
took refuge with Mr. Bull, who treated
them civilly, and recommended them to
the Forest, where they dispersed themselves
in the several families of his tenants,
and a large party of them took up their
abode with Charles, to whom they proved
an industrious, profitable acquisition,
though some of the family looked a little
sourly upon them.

This facility of admitting strangers produced
an effect which had almost proved
fatal to the reputation of the family; for
a number of highwaymen[2] also sought
shelter there, and by means of their gold
and silver, which they had in plenty,
made friends in the house, and were admitted
by night at a back door. After a

while they grew more bold, and came in
the day time, under the disguise of pedlars,
with packs on their shoulders. One
of them actually took his stand behind a
corner of one of the fences, from whence
he sallied out on travellers; this corner obtained,
from that circumstance, the name
of Cape Fear; and as the first names of
places are not easily got rid of, it retains
the name to this day, and perhaps will ever
retain it. Here the rascal intended to
have built himself a lodge, and taken up
his quarters for life; but the matter was
now grown so public, that Charles, for the
honour of his family, ordered all stragglers
to be seized, and this fellow in particular,
after a fevere struggle, was apprehended
and brought to justice.

The same spot was afterward taken
possession of by Peter Pitch,[3] a poor
fellow who got his living as he did his
name, from collecting the resinous juice

of the numerous pines which grew thereabouts.
He had to work hard and fare
hard, and go a great way for his victuals
and clothes; but after he had lived alone
for some time, he picked up one or two
acquaintances of his own stamp, and they
formed a family, which was at first rather
disorderly. Farther discovery of the
lands, and the advantage of the water carriage,
induced some other people to sit
down by him, and in process of time he
became so respectable as to be noticed by
Mr. Bull, who, though he never gave him
a lease in form, yet let him have cloth and
haberdashery upon credit, and took his
pitch in payment as fast as he could collect
it. This kept him in a dependent state,
and subjected him to impositions from
Bull's clerks and journeymen. About
twenty years ago, Bull sent him a taylor
to try on a new coat,[4] which was so strait
that it split in several places, and never
could be altered so as to fit him; but he
was obliged to wear it rather than quarrel
with his patron. This same taylor was
remarkable for cabbaging, as Peter Bullfrog
and Humphry Ploughshare have since
had large experience.

To finish what relates to Charles Indigo,
I shall observe, that the land on which
he began his plantation, was in general so
wet and miry, that it was unfavourable to
the production of wheat, and it was for
some time doubtful whether he would be
able to raise his own bread. Chance at
length effected what labour and ingenuity
could not: a bird of passage having
dropped some kernels of rice in his dung,
it was found to thrive exceedingly well;
from whence the hint was taken, and rice
became the standard grain of the plantation.
By the cultivation of this, and of a
weed which, was ufeful to the dyers, he
grew rich, and made a fightly figure among
his neighbours in point of dress and
equipage; though his countenance is

rather sallow, and he is subject to frequent
returns of the intermittent fever.

By the extensive lease given to Indigo
and his associates, most of Mr. Bull's dependants
and attendants were provided for,
and their services recompensed with a
shew of generosity on his part, and of satisfaction
on theirs. I have before just
hinted at a grant made to William
Broadbrim,[5] of which I shall now give
a more particular account.

His father had been an old servant of
Mr. Bull, and had been employed in the
very laborious and necessary business of
catching and killing rats. In this employment
he was so very dexterous and successsul,
that he recommended himself
highly to his master, who not only allowed
him large wages, but promised him
farther recompense. During Mr. Bull's
sickness, the care and diligence of this
faithful servant had been unremitted, and

his merits were thereby increased, so that
Mr. Bull, on his recovery, found himself
deeply indebted to him, and he still continued
his services; till worn out with age
and infirmity, he died and had an honorable
funeral.

His son William then became his heir,
and solicited for payment of the arrears
due to his father, which Mr. Bull,
according to the maxim he had laid down
for himself, and urged by the necessity of
the occasion, proposed to discharge by a
lease of part of the Forest. This happened
to fall in, exactly, with William's
views, which were of a singular nature.

About this time a nervous disorder
appeared in Bull's family, which went by
the name of the shaking palsy.[6] We shall
not pretend to trace the causes of it, as the
origin of such things is often obscure and
impenetrable; but the effects were, a
trembling of the nerves, a stissness in the

neck and shoulders, and a hesitancy in the
speech, so that it was impossible for the
patients to pronounce certain words and
syllables, such as Sir, Madam, your Honor,
my Lord, &c. nor could one of them
raise his hand to take off his hat, or hold
it on the book when an oath was to be
administered.

Mr. Bull's choleric temper misinterpreted
this natural infirmity into a fullen
disrespect. When he found a change in
the behaviour of these domestics; that
instead of bowing to him they stood upright
as a maypole, and instead of Sir, and
your Honor, they could utter nothing but
Friend, he grew angry, and made a pretty
free use of his fist; and when he found
that they could not be cured by such
means, he thrust some of them into a dark
closet, and shut them up till they should,
as he termed it, “learn better manners;”
and it is supposed he would have carried
his resentment much further, but for this

circumstance; William Broadbrim, who
had himself strong symptoms of the disorder,
whispered to Mr. Bull, that if he
would give him time to ripen a project,
which he had conceived, he would rid
him of all trouble with these people.
William had a plodding genius, and the
scheme with which his head was pregnant
at this time, was nothing more or less than
to make a settlement in the forest, and
take all these people with him. Bull,
who was glad to get rid of them, and of
the debt which he owed to William, readily
fell in with the project; and a grant
was made out under hand and seal, wherein
William Broadbrim, and his heirs,
were invested with the right of soil, and
all other privileges of proprietorship, in a
certain part of the forest, between the
plantation of Marygold and that of Cartrut
and Bareclay, being in the neighborhood
of the spot where Casimir had rebuilt
his hut, and lived in an ambiguous
situation, not knowing who was his landlord.
With him William made a peaceable
compromise, saying, “Friend, I will
do thee no violence, there is room enough
for us both.” Casimir was glad of so
good a neighbor, and he had reason to be,
for he throve more rapidly after this than
before.

William pitched upon a level piece
of ground, where two large brooks met,
for the situation of his mansion house,
and went to work to draw up rules for
the government of his family. One of
which was, that no person should be refused
admittance into it, or disturbed in
it, or cast out of it, on account of any
natural infirmity. Another was, that no
arms, nor ammunition, should ever be
made use of on any pretence whatever.
The first of these rules gained William
great reputation among all sensible men;
the latter was a notion which candor would
lead us to suppose proceeded from a love
of peace, and the exercise of good will toward

his fellow creatures; though some
were so illnatured as to imagine that it
was an effect of the disorder in his nerves.

When any of William's neighbors,
who were of a different way of thinking,
spake to him of the impolicy of this rule,
and asked him how he expected to defend
himself and his family against the wild
beasts, if they should attack him; William,
who was fond of harangue, would
answer thus—“There is in all creatures
a certain instinct, which disposeth
them to peace. This instinct is so strong
and fixed, that upon it, as upon a foundation,
may be erected a complete system
of love and concord, which all the powers
of anarchy shall not be able to overthrow.
To cultivate and improve this instinct is
the business of every wise man, and he
may reasonably expect that an example
of this kind, if steadily and regularly adhered
to, will have a very extensive and
beneficial influence, on all sorts of creatures;

even the wild beasts of the forest
will become tame as the lambs, and birds
of prey as harmless as doves. Dost thou
not see, friend, what influence my example
has already had on those creatures
which are deemed savage? I go into their
dens with sasety, and they enter my habitation
without fear. When they are
hungry I feed them, when they are thirsty
I give them drink, and they in return
bear my burdens, and do such other kind
offices as they are capable of, and I require
of them. I have even tamed some of
them so far, that they have sold me the
land on which they live, and have acknowledged
the bargain by a mark made
with their toe nails on parchment. They
are certainly some of the best natured creatures
in the world; their native instinct
leads them to love and peace, and sociability,
and as long as I set them a good
example I have no doubt they will follow
it. When such is my opinion and expectation,
why should I be anxious about
what may, and I trust never will happen?
Why should I put myself in a posture of
defence against those who may never attack
me? or, why should I, by the appearance
of jealousy and distrust on my
part, offend those who now put confidence
in me? No, no, I will not suppose
that they will ever hurt me. I will not
suffer the carnal weapon to be seen in my
house, nor shall one of my family ever
learn the detestable practice of pulling the
trigger. I leave the instruments of destruction
to the offspring of Cain and the
seed of the serpent; while I meekly imitate
the gentleness of the lamb, and the
innocence of the dove.”

With such harrangues William would
frequently entertain himself and his
friends, and he was so sanguine in his benevolent
project, that instead of having
his own name, as was usual, written over
his door, he had the words BROTHERLY
LOVE, translated into the Greek language,

and inscribed in golden characters, as a
standing invitation to persons of all nations
and characters to come and take
shelter under his roof.