University of Virginia Library

LETTER I.

To perform the promise which
I made to you before I began my journey,
I will give you such an account of this,
once forest, but now cultivated and pleasant
country, as I can collect from my
conversation with its inhabitants, and
from the perusal of their old family papers,
which they have kindly permitted

me to look into for my entertainment.
By these means I have acquainted
myself with the story of their first
planting, consequent improvements and
present state; the recital of which will
occupy the hours which I shall be able to
spare from business, company and sleep,
during my residence among them.

In reading the character of John Bull,
which was committed to paper some years
ago by one who knew him well, you must
have observed, that though “he was in
the main an honest, plain dealing fellow,
yet he was choleric and inconstant, and
very apt to quarrel with his best friends.”
This observation you will find fully verified
in the course of the narrative; and
as the opinions and manners of superiors
have a very great influence in forming the
character of inferiors, you need not be
surprised if you find a family likeness
prevailing among the persons whose history
I am about to recite, most, of whom

were formerly residents in Mr. Bull's
house, or apprentices in his shop.

There was among the appendages to
John's estate, a pretty large tract of land,
which had been neglected by his ancestors,
and which he never cared much about,
excepting that now and then some
of his family went thither a hunting, and
brought home venison and furs. Indeed
this was as far as I can find the best pretence
that John had to call the land his;
for he had no legal title to it. It was
then a very woody country, in some parts
rocky and hilly, in other parts level; well
watered with brooks and ponds, and the
whole of it bordered on a large lake, in
which were plenty of fish, some of which
were often served up at John's table, on
fast days.

The stories told by one and another of
these adventurers, had made a deep im

pression on the mind of Walter Pipeweed,[1]
one of John's domestics, a fellow of a roving
and projecting disposition, and who
had learned the art of surveying. Walter
having frequently listened to their chat,
began to think within himself, “If these
fellows make so many pence by their excursions
to this wild spot, what might not
I gain by sitting down upon it? There is
plenty of game and fish at hand, for a
present supply; plenty of nuts and acorns
to fatten pigs, and with some small labour
I may be able to raise corn and feed
poultry, which will fetch me a good price
at market.—I can carry bisket enough in
my pockets, to keep me alive till my first
crop comes in, and my dog can live upon
the offals of the game that I shall kill.—
Besides, who knows what treasures the
land itself may contain—perhaps some
rich mines!—od zounds!—then I am
made for this world.

Full of this dream, Walter applied to
his master one day for a lease of part of
the forest, as it was called. Bull at first
laughed at the proposal, and put him off;
but Walter followed it up so close, and
told what advantages might be gained by
settling there, and promised, if he should
succeed, to turn all his trade into his master's
hand, and give him the refusal of
whatever he might bring to market, and
withal shewed him some draughts, which
he had made with chalk, from the reports
of the huntsmen, that Bull began to think
of the matter in good earnest, and consulted
his lawyer upon the subject, who,
after due confideration of the premises,
and stroking his band, advised him as
follows. “Why yes, Mr. Bull, I don't
see why you ought not to look about you
as well as your neighbours. You know
that old Lord Peter lays claim to the
whole country, and has assumed to parcel
it out among his devotees. He has given
all the western part of it, where this forest

lies, to Lord Strut, and he has a large
manor adjoining to your forest, which,
they say, yields him a fine rent, and who
knows but this may bring you in as much,
or more?—Then there is old Lewis, the
cudgel player, and Nic Frog, the draper,
who have, perhaps, (I say perhaps, Mr.
Bull, because there may be a little doubt
on both sides, and in that case, you know
sir, it would not become gentlemen of our
cloth, to speak positively) as good a claim
as your honor to this land; but then it is
a maxim, you know, that possession is eleven
points of the law, and if you once
get your foot upon it, they cannot oust
you without a process, and your honor
knows that your purse is as long as theirs,
and you are as able to stand a suit with
them as they are with you. I therefore
advise you to humour your man Walter,
and give him a lease, and a pretty large
one—you may find more advantages in it
than you are aware of—but lease it, lease
it at any rate.” Upon this he was ordered
to make out a lease; and Walter being
thus invested with as good authority
as could be obtained, filled his pockets
with bread and cheese, took his gun,
powder flask, and shot of various kinds,
with a parcel of fishing lines and hooks,
his surveying instruments, and a bag of
corn on his shoulders, and off he trotted
to his new paradise.

It was some time before he could fix
upon a spot to his liking, and he at first
met with some opposition from the bears
and wolves, and was greatly exposed to
the weather, before he could build him a
hut; once or twice the savage animals had
almost devoured him, but being made of
good stuff, he stood his ground, cleared a
little spot, put his seed into the earth, and
lived as well as such adventurers can expect,
poorly enough at first, but supported
as all new planters are, by the hope of
better times. After a while he began to
thrive, and his master Bull recommended

a wife,[2] whom he married, and by whom
he had a number of children. Having
found a new sort of grain in the forest,
and a certain plant of a narcotic quality,
he cultivated both, and having procured
a number of black cattle, he went on pretty
gaily in the planting way, and brought
his narcotic weed into great repute, by
sending a present of a quantity of it to his
old master, who grew excessively fond of it,
and kept calling for more, till he got the
whole trade of it into his own hands, and
sold it out of his own ware house to old
Lewis, Nic Frog, and all the other tradesmen
around him. In return he supplied
Walter with cloths and stuffs for his family,
and utensils for his husbandry; and
as a reward for being the first, who had
courage to make a settlement in his forest,
and in token of his high esteem of him as
a customer, as well as for certain other
reasons, he made it a practice every year,
to present him with a waggon load of or
dure,[3] the sweepings of his back yard, the
scrapings of his dog kennel, and contents
of his own water closet. This was a mark
of politeness which John valued himself
much upon. “It may seem odd (said
he one day to a friend) that I make such
a kind of compliment as this to my good
customer; but if you consider it aright
you will find it a piece of refined policy—
for by this means I get rid of a deal of
trash and rubbish that is necessarily made
in such a family as mine; I get a cursed
stink removed from under my nose, and
my good friend has the advantage of it
upon his farm, to manure his grounds,
and make them produce more plentifully
that precious weed in which we all so
much delight.” Walter was often seen,
on the arrival of Bull's waggon, to clap
his handerchief to his nose; but as he
knew his old master was an odd sort of a
fellow, and it was his interest to keep in
with him, he generally turned off the
compliment with a laugh, saying, good
naturedly enough, “Let him laugh that
wins,” without explaining his meaning,
though it might admit of a double entendre—and
calling some of his servants, he
ordered them to shovel out the dung, and
make his black cattle mix theirs with it—
and when spread over the land, the air
took out most of the scent, and the salts
were of some advantage to the soil.

After Walter Pipeweed had got his
affairs into tolerable order, he was visited
in his retirement by Cecilius Peterson,[4] another
of Bull's apprentices, who had
taken a fancy to the same kind of life,
from a disgust to some things that had
happened in the family. He had not
been long with Walter before he found
it would not do for him to remain there.
Peterson was supposed to be a natural son

of old Lord Peter, after whom he was
nick named. He had the same affected
airs, and a tincture of the high flying notions
of his reputed father. These made
him rather disgustful to Walter, who had
learned his manners of Mr. Bull's mother,
when she was in her sober senses, and between
her and Lord Peter there had been
a long variance. When Peterson perceived
that his company was not desired,
he had so much good sense as to leave
Walter's plantation, and paddling across
a creek, seated himself on a point of land
that ran out into the lake. Of this he obtained
a lease of his old master, and went
to work in the same manner as Walter had
done, who, liking his company best at a
distance, was willing to supply him with
bread and meat till he could scramble for
himself. Here he took to husbandry,
raising corn and the narcotic weed, and
buying up black cattle, and after a while
turned his produce into his old master's
ware house, and received from him the
annual compliment of a waggon load of
dung, excepting that when there had not
been so much as usual made, he and Walter
were to share a load between them.

To ingratiate himself still farther with
his old master, he accepted of a girl out
of his family for a wife, (for John was always
fond of his tenants marrying for fear
of their doing worse) he took as little notice
as possible of his reputed father, and
dropping, or disowning his nick name of
Peterson, he assumed that of Marygold,
which old Madam Bull understood as a
compliment to one of her daughters. He
also made his court to the old lady by
kneeling down and kissing the fringe of
her embroidered petticoat, as was the
fashion of that day. This ceremony,
though a trifle in itself, helped much to
recommend him to Mr. Bull, who was a
very dutiful son, and took his mother's
advice in most parts of his business. In
short, Cecilius was too much of a politi

cian to suppose that filial affection ought
to stand in the way of a man's interest,
and in this he judged as most other men
would have done in the fame circumstances.