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Letters from an
American Farmer
By
J. Hector St. John Crevecoeur

Reprinted from the Original Edition

With a Prefatory Note by
W. P. TRENT

And an Introduction by
LUDWIG LEWISOHN

NEW YORK
FOX, DUFFIELD & COMPANY
1904

Copyright, 1904, by
Fox, Duffield & Company

PREFATORY NOTE.

There are at least two good reasons why I
should have the honor and pleasure of writing
a short preface to this new edition of Creve-
coeur's Letters from an American Farmer,
which makes a tardy appearance one hundred
and eleven years after Matthew Carey's
homely reprint of the first London edition. It
was partly in consequence of some praise of
mine that the present publishers made an ex
amination of the book and determined to try
to give it a new lease of life; it was also in
consequence of my interest in the matter that
Mr. Lewisohn undertook the task of editing
the volume.
That such a task should be undertaken has
been very clear to me since I read an article
by Professor Selden L. Whitcomb on 'Nature
in Early American Literature,' which was pub
lished in The Sewanee Review for February,
1894. Professor Whitcomb paid such a trib
ute to Crevecoeur's merits as a poet-naturalist
that I could not rest satisfied until I had secured a copy

PREFATORY NOTE.
a copy of the Letters and read them for myself.
Since then, although I have been permitted to
add my mite to the slowly accumulating critical
testimony with regard to the enduring charm
of one of the few early American books that
fairly deserves to be ranked as a minor classic,...
I have not been able to rest satisfied because,
owing to the rarity of Crevecoeur's volume,
the pleasure I had received could not be shared
with many others. There is no reason now, how
ever, why the sane, sympathetic, open-eyed
Norman-American of a century and a quarter
ago should not make as fast, if not almost as
many friends among modern readers as he won
for himself during his lifetime by his genial
Letters and, we cannot doubt, by his genial
manners. Surely the latter-day public ought to
be willing to welcome an author who can no
longer lure them to take up their abodes in the
wilderness, but may lure them to forget in the
ideal past the cares of the real present.
But even should his Letters in this new form
be most kindly received, one regret must still
remain to all admirers of Crevecoeur, a re
gret connected with the man himself. De
spite his efforts, Mr. Lewisohn has been
able to add but little to our knowledge of Cre
vecoeur's life and character. French antiquaries
have been consulted, the records of the French
Consulate

PREFATORY NOTE.
Consulate in New York have been searched,
and various masses of correspondence have
been examined; but nothing of special bio
graphical value has been found save the letters
from Mme. d' Houdetot and Crevecoeur
printed at the end of the volume. For knowl
edge of these, permission to use them, and
other help, our hearty thanks are due to Pro
fessor Albert H. Smyth of Philadelphia.
To enter here upon any discussion of Creve-
coeur's merits as a writer would be not only to
intrude upon Mr. Lewisohn's province, but to
repeat myself. I cannot forbear, however, call
ing attention to the probability that Creve-
coeur's ideal American of 1780, although no
where to be seen in the provincial republic of
, those days, was an actual presence through the j
formative influence he exerted. Crevecoeur's '
imagination bodied forth such an ideal citi- ''
zen of an ideal land as some old-time Ameri- >¦
cans fancied themselves to be and as most of
them wished to be. In other words, the liter
ary farmer gave early expression to an ideal
which has been held up to us in one way or
another for more than a century — an ideal
which is still effective save upon sophisticated
communities and individuals. Such a service
is easily misunderstood and underestimated, but
Crevecoeur's services as a lover and interpreter of

PREFATORY NOTE.
of nature are fortunately in no danger of be
ing overlooked to-day. Indeed, as a pioneer
poet-naturalist he could not well be revived in
a more propitious season, and time has lent in
terest and historical value to his observations
of primitive Americans and their institutions.
Washington was right when he declared that
the French consul's book would "afford a great
deal of profitable and amusive information" ;
he also showed his customary prudence when he
added that perhaps the picture, "though found
ed on fact, is in some instances embellished
with rather too flattering circumstances."
In short, Crevecoeur's Letters is both a book
worth reading for its own sake, and one worth
remembering as an excellent illustration of the
truth that American literature has always been
and must always be a product of old-world
culture modified by new-world conditions. In
its pages literary tradition blends with the
buoyant spirit of a new nation in the making
and with the charm of virgin rivers and hills
and plains. W. P. Trent.
Columbia University, New York.

INTRODUCTION. I.
There is a charming passage in Hazlitt's
essay "On Going a Journey" in which he
tells how, on a day ever memorable to him, he
first read Rousseau in the parlor of a country
inn, and thus plighted faith with one of his
favorite books and authors. In many things
Rousseau appealed to this restless and impetu
ous spirit, in nothing perhaps more than in
the note of joy and peace in Nature, which
sounds again and again in the literature of the
succeeding years, not always with such large
ness, yet sometimes with an almost equal
charm. Among other books in which this note
could be heard there fell into Hazlitt's hands
a little volume of double interest to him by
reason of his own early sojourn in America,
and in a fitting connection he gave it a word
of praise. In the Edinburgh Review for Oc
tober, 1829, he speaks of it as giving one an
idea "how American scenery and manners may
be treated with a lively poetic interest. . .
The pictures are sometimes highly colored, but

INTRODUCTION.
but they are vivid and strikingly character
istic." "The author," he continues, "gives not
only the objects, but the feelings of a new
country." Hazlitt had read the book and had
been delighted with it nearly a quarter of a
century before he wrote of it, and in the ear
liest years of the century he had commended it
warmly to his friends.' In November, 1.805,
Lamb wrote : "Oh, tell Hazlitt not to forget
the American Farmer. I dare say it is not so
good as he fancies; but a book's a book."*
And it is this book, which not only gained the
sympathies of Hazlitt and Charles Lamb, but
also by its idealized treatment of American
country life may possibly have stirred, as Pro
fessor Moses Coit Tyler thought, the imagina
tions of Byron and Coleridge, of which a re
print is here undertaken after the passing of
more than one hundred years.
The little volume had made its mark on both
sides of the Atlantic not many years before
Hazlitt noticed it. It appeared in London in
1782 with this somewhat ponderous title-page:
"Letters from an American Farmer, Describ
ing Certain Provincial Situations, Manners and
Customs, and Conveying Some Idea Of The
State Of The People Of North America, Writ ten
* Lamb's works, ed. Ainger, vol. 3, pg. 221. The letter
is dated Nov. 10, 1805, not Nov. 18, as given by Duyckinck.

INTRODUCTION.
ten to a Friend in England, By J. Hector St.
John, A Farmer In Pennsylvania." A new
English edition appeared in the year following,
and an American reprint of the editio princeps
was brought out by Matthew Carey in Phila
delphia in 1793. In the meantime its author,
whose full name was J. Hector Saint John de
Crevecoeur, had himself translated the book
into French, adding to it very considerably,
and publishing it in Paris in 1784.* A sec
ond French edition, still further enlarged and
containing excellent maps and plates, appeared
in 1787. These bibliographical facts are sig
nificant. They show that for at least twenty
years, probably for a much longer period, the
"Letters from an American Farmer" was an
important interpreter of the New World to the
Old. It seems to have been in answer to a de
mand aroused by his first book that Crevecoeur
ventured to treat the same theme once more.
But the three bulky volumes of his "Journey
in Upper Pennsylvania" (1801) contain little
that is ngw or illuminating.f For
* "Lettres D'un Cultivateur Americain. Ecrites A. W.
S. Ecuyer, Depuis L'Annee 1-170 jusqu'al 1781. Traduites
de l'Anglois par 
t The full title is : "Voyage Dans La Haute Pennsyl-
vanie, Et Dans L'lStat de New- York, Par un Membre
adoptif de la nation Oneida. Traduit et publiee par l'au
teur des Lettres D'Un Cultivateur Americain." There
has been no reprint. It is needless to add that Creve
coeur merely pretended to have translated the book.

INTRODUCTION.
For many years after Hazlitt had sounded
his note of praise, Crevecoeur and his work re
mained practically unknown. The ideas for
which he stood, the literary atmosphere that he
created, were both old-fashioned. Few people
took Rousseau from their upper shelves, and
the dust gathered on the tomes of Chateau
briand. Even Werther was more talked about
than read. And so no one cared for this
Earthly Paradise of the Age of Reason dashed
with Rousseau's sentimentality, filled with his
love of Nature, and prophetic of the whole
Emigrant literature of France.* It was not
until Americans stopped to consider the origins
of their national culture that Crevecoeur was
again remembered and mentioned. The late
Professor Moses Coit Tyler gave an appre
ciative account of the man and the book in his
"Literary History of the American Revolu
tion," and since then no competent historian of
American literature has omitted a notice of
Crevecoeur and the "Letters from an Ameri
can Farmer."

* See Georg Brandes' "Main Currents of igth Cen
tury Literature," vol. i. passim.

INTRODUCTION. - ¦
II.
J. Hector Saint John de Crevecdeur was
born at Caen on January 31, 173/, of a noble
family which had played some part in Norman
history as early as^the eleventh century. In 1747,
in hisCsixtSgnt^ year, Crevecoeur was sent by
his family to England in order to complete his
education. But the young man was of an adven
turous spirit, and after a sojourn of about seven
years in England, he set sail for Canada, where
for the years 1758-59 he served in the French
army. In 1764, after some residence in Penn
sylvania, he became a naturalized citizen of
New York, and five years later settled on a
farm in Ulster County. Here, with his wife,
Mahetable Tiffet of Yonkers, he lived the
peaceful life of many idyllic years during
which he gathered the materials for his
bogk^ Obviously enough he did not al
ways remain on his farm, but viewed many
parts of the country with a quietly observing
eye. These journeys are recorded in his pages.
He explored pretty thoroughly the settled por
tions of the States of New York and Pennsyl
vania, saw something of New England, and
also penetrated westward to the limits of the
colonies. He went as far South as Charleston,
and may have visited Jamaica. Beyond such
journeyings we may imagine these years to
have

INTRODUCTION.
have been quite barren of events, serene and
peaceful, until the storm of the Revolution be
gan to breaks It is not until 1779 that anything
of import is again recorded of Crevecoeur. In
that year he made an attempt to return to Nor
mandy, but the sudden appearance of a French
fleet in the harbor of New York causing him
to be suspected as a spy, he was imprisoned
for three months. He was then permitted to
sail, and, on his arrival in England, sold for
thirty guineas his' "Letters from an American
Farmer," which were published at London in
1782, the year after he reached France.
The success of his book and his efforts to im
prove the agricultural conditions of Normandy
made Crevecoeur a welcome guest in France.
He spent some pleasant months in French liter
ary society, into which he was probably intro
duced by Mme. de Houdetot, one of the many
heroines of Rousseau's "Confessions." To this
lady, an old friend of his father, he also owed
his introduction to Franklin.* He returned
to America at the end of 1783.
Here sorrow and desolation awaited him.
His wife had died a few weeks before his ar
rival, his farm had been ravaged, his children
were in the care of strangers. But as he had
been appointed French Consul in New York
with the especially expressed approbation of
Washington
*Cf. Appendix pp. 331-332.

INTRODUCTION.
Washington he remained in America six years
longer, with only one brief interval spent in
France. Notwithstanding the disastrous prac
tical influence of his book, through which five
hundred Norman families are said to have
perished in the forests of Ohio, he was now an
honored citizen in his adopted country, distin
guished by Washington, and the friend of
Franklin. In these later years he accompanied
Franklin on various journeys, one of which is
recorded in the "Voyage Dans La Haute Penn-
sylvanie." In 1790 he returned to France, liv
ing now at Rouen, now at Sarcelles, where he
died on November 12, 18 13. He was a man of
"serene temper and pure benevolence," of good
sense and sound judgment; something also
of a dreamer, yet of a rhetorical rather than
a poetical temperament; typically French,
since there were in him no extremes of
opinion or emotion. He followed the dictates
of his reason tempered by the warmth of his
heart, and treated life justly and sanely.

III.

Crevecoeur's book differs from other works
descriptive of early conditions in America in
that

INTRODUCTION.
that it should be regarded primarily as a piece
of literature. Beyond the information that is
given by it there is the more permanent sig
nificance of its tone and atmosphere, of its
singularly engaging style, and of the fact that
it forms part of a great literary movement.
This literary movement, of which the master
pieces are Rousseau's "Confessions," Ste.
Pierre's "Paul et Virginie," Goethe's "Sor
rows of Werther," and Chateaubriand's "Les
Natchez," has an American representative in
these letters of a Pennsylvania farmer.
Crevecoeur sought and found, or imagined
that he had found, that land of plain living
and high thinking, of simple virtue and un-
trammeled manhood, which was one of the
dreams of his age. Here were none of those
social distinctions against which Werther so
bitterly rebelled. The restraints of law were
reduced to a minimum and in Crevecoeur's fa
vorite Society of Friends (of which he gave a
long account to his French countrymen) there
were not even priests. In a word, the spiritual
rebellion of that period was essentially a re
bellion against institutions, and the real corre
sponded very nearly to the ideal in colonial
America. Beyond the limits of the colonies,
moreover, the absolute ideal hovered. This
was the Indian ; not the red man of actual flesh and

INTRODUCTION.
and blood, but the Tenewissa of Crevecoeur,
and the Atala of Chateaubriand. The pres
sure of the tyrannous centuries drove men to
an ideal of extreme liberty. It was the Indian,
living in uninterrupted communion with Na
ture, and within the most flexible of societies,
whom they contrasted with the European held
in the iron vise of a complex and traditional
social order. All the undeniable charm of this
ideal of freedom, of simplicity, of a life close
to Nature, Crevecoeur embodied in his book.
From the exaggerations into which many of the
men of his time had fallen, he was saved by
his sane and practical turn of mind. But fully
conscious as he was of the actual work-a-day
America in which he lived, he was more pro
foundly moved by the fact that he had indeed
found a country,
"In happy climes the seat of innocence,
Where Nature guides and virtue rules,"
and it is this country, half-real, half-ideal,
which he sets out to describe.
But here a qualification should be made.
Crevecoeur was a lover of Nature like Rous
seau ; he united in himself, as did the members
of the Emigrant group, revolutionary ideas
with romantic tendencies; but in the melan choly

INTRODUCTION.
choly of his time and in its weariness of life
he had no share. He was an indomitable
..'optimist. In the value and joy of that phase
of life which he described he believed heartily,
as well as in the future of the colonies, and in
the beneficent effect of that future on the for
tunes of mankind. To him the meaning of
"Weltschmerz" was unknown, as it must be
to every one, who finds, as he did, a continual
source of pure joy in the ordinary duties of
life's working-day. -In this respect, indeed, the
"Letters from an American Farmer" is a
book of tonic quality. To extract joy from
common duties, to clothe them with a real dig
nity, not to weary of them in the slow process
of the years — this is no easy or unworthy
task, and to have described its performance
with power and charm is a service at once liter
ary and ethical.
The twelve letters of the volume here re
printed have but slight logical sequence. The
simple American farmer who is supposed to
have written them selects certain phases of
colonial life, inner and outer, and talks about
them easily and gracefully, rising only now and
then to any real intensity of utterance. The
introductory letter is quaint and garrulous, but
is immediately followed by the admirable bit
of literature furnished by the second letter,
"On

INTRODUCTION.
"On the situation, feelings, and pleasures of
an American farmer."
The broadly simple, elementary emotions
of humanity do not often find their way into
literature as they do in this second letter of
Crevecoeur. He is proud of his essential priv
ileges as a mere man. He is moved by the sight
of his wife and children, for they are his, and
the objects of his protecting care. He loves
the acres which he tills and which had been
cleared and tilled before him. The daily
labors of his farm are saturated for him with
sentiment, and his life is filled with love. His
cattle, his chickens, above all his bees, and the
wild doves that circle above his house — all
these he surrounds with an emotional atmos
phere. Without fail he captures the aroma of
life. But Crevecoeur was after all a Frenchman,
with the strong social instinct of his race. And
so he proceeds to analyze and define the politi
cal conditions of America. It fills him with a
quiet but deep satisfaction to be one of a com
munity of "freeholders, the possessors of the
soil they cultivate, members of the government
they obey, and the framers of their own laws
by means of their representatives." Thus he
rises to a consideration of this new type of
social man and seeks to answer the question: What

INTRODUCTION.
What is an American ? His answer is delight
ful literature, but fanciful sociology. Had the
colonial farmers all been Crevecoeurs, had they
all possessed his ideality, his power of raising
simple things into true human dignity, of con
necting the homeliest activity with the ultimate
social purpose which it furthers in its own small
way, his description of the American would
have been fair enough. As a matter of fact,
the hard-working colonial farmer, cut off from
the refining and subduing influences of an older
civilization, was probably no very delectable
type, however worthy, and one fears that Pro
fessor Wendell is right in declaring that Cre
vecoeur's American is no more human than
some ideal savage of Voltaire. But in this
fact lies much of the literary charm of his
work, and of its value as a human document of
the age of the Revolution.
The five letters on Nantucket and Martha's
Vineyard are illustrative of one of Crevecoeur's
favorite theses. "All," he says, "is local with
man, his virtues and his vices, his tastes, and
even his prejudices." And this inhospitable
rock must have produced either "health, tem
perance, and a great equality of conditions, or
the most abject misery." And then he relates
that homely epic of brave fishermen and farers
of the sea. Did these fishermen feel such ro
mance
XX

INTRODUCTION.
mance in their fate and calling as Crevecoeur
would have us believe? It hardly matters.
The romance is recorded here not unworthily;
recorded, too, with that blending of two seem
ingly discordant notes so characteristic of Cre
vecoeur. He is full of the wild and adventurous
atmosphere of this barren rock that sends out
its intrepid whalers to hunt over all oceans.
But on the other hand, he never loses sight of
the economic significance of their pursuit. Per
haps he inherited his sense for mystery and
romance from remote Norman ancestors, toil
ers of the sea, but he never lets us forget long
that he is a colonial American, capable of re
garding things with the shrewd eyes of a
Franklin.
< Then comes a sudden change of tone and
feeling. In the ninth letter, which contains a
description of Charleston, Crevecoeur tells of
conditions that were entirely repugnant both to
his natural temperament and to his acquired
opinions. He loved measure, order, a quiet
prosperity, the homely virtues of life. He was
hardly the man to regard with sympathy the
life of Charleston. In all probability his re
marks on slavery are particularlyuntrustworthy.
A humanitarian of the Age of the Revolution,
a member of the Society of Friends, or, at least,
closely connected with it — he was as incapable of

INTRODUCTION.
of approaching the slavery problem dispas
sionately as was some friend or follower of
Wilberforce. At the same time, the powerful
though repressed emotion with which he relates
the almost incredible incident of the negro left
to perish in a cage, bears witness in a man of
Crevecoeur's sincerity, to the fact that he must
have seen not a little of callousness and in
humanity. The tenth letter, "On Snakes and on the
Humming-Bird," comes in the form of a
charming interlude after the tense atmosphere
of the description of Charleston. As a matter
of pure literature the fight between the two
snakes is one of the two or three best things
in the whole book. Every stroke in the descrip
tion tells, yet there is not the slightest appear
ance of effort. In the next letter, the account
of a visit to the Pennsylvania botanist Bar
tram, we return to the idyllic atmosphere, to
the note of peace and homely joy, of the earlier
letters. The man self-made \and self-taught,
who has since become almost\ terror in the
land, is here portrayed most attractively. He
has not yet learned to boast of his lack of cul
ture or to despise all things that are not his.
He looks upon his advance with a quiet pride
that needs no expression; he lives with sim
plicity and dignity. Finally

INTRODUCTION.
Finally comes the powerful twelfth letter,
"On the Distresses of a Frontierman," in
which Crevecoeur at last breaks his reticence
with regard to the Revolution. The letter is
of the highest interest for more than one rea
son. Wars and revolutions as they fade away
in the distance of time acquire a form that is
well-nigh artistic. The imagination casts
aside the non-essential aspects of great events.
All details are indistinguishably massed about
some central man or idea. The suffering,
doubting, distracted individual is forgotten.
Such an individual, the writer of the letter,
Crevecoeur shows us. The bitter, hopeless
agony of this one victim, at least, is brought
home to the heart. One of the many human
tragedies of that day survives, told with a
quiet but intense power, and with an immediacy
of appeal that it would be hard to praise too
highly. The letter is a dramatic monologue
in prose put into the mouth of the frontierman,
and with this cry of pain, so different from the
note of peace with which it opens, the book
ends. The end is to a certain extent symbolic.
The quiet, simple colonial days were over; the
great upheaval had come, and the future was
as yet unknown.
As to Crevecoeur's style in the narrower
sense, his translations into French and his orig inal

INTRODUCTION.
inal work in that language show that he had
to some extent unlearned his native speech dur
ing his many years of residence in England and
America. His English is of singular purity,
and is, upon the whole, quite idiomatic. Its
slight formality and stiffness are to be at
tributed rather to the influence of late eight
eenth century prose than to his foreign birth.
His sense for the effects of English prose style
is of an unusual delicacy. His diction is, as a
rule, conventional enough, though rarely in
adequate, but in the rhythm of his easily glid
ing sentences, often, though never obtrusively,
balanced, there is genuine charm.
Crevecoeur's French writings are of no great
importance. The best part of the "Lettres d'un
Cultivateur Americain" consists of the twelve
letters of the English work, which lose consider
ably in the translation. The additional chapters
are occupied with descriptions of the character
and resources of the several provinces, and
yield only one passage — a picture of the city
of New York as it appeared in the last quarter
of the eighteenth century — that is of real inter
est to-day. The three large volumes of the
"Voyage Dans La Haute Pennsylvanie" have,
as we have seen, but slight literary value. They
deal to a large extent, and quite fancifully, with
the American Indian, and the somewhat dis
connected
xxiv

INTRODUCTION.
connected narrative runs on at great length.
The historian may glean a suggestion or two
from the work; the student of literature may
safely disregard it. It is on the "Letters from
an American Farmer" that Crevecoeur's repu
tation must rest, and safely, for the book is so
admirable in many ways that it is likely to be
come better known as time goes on, and to oc
cupy a somewhat more conspicuous place than
it now does in the history of American litera
ture and life.* Ludwig Lewisohn.

*The accessible sources for Crevecoeur's biography are
very meagre and conflicting. In several details the care
ful note given in Bigelow's Franklin, ix., 4, has been
followed, for example, with regard to the_date of Creve
coeur's birth which is generally put in ijSap Use has also
been made of the articles in Duyckinclts Cyclopedia of
American Literature and in the Nouvelle Biographie Uni
versale. A work cited by Mr. Bigelow, St. John de Creve
coeur: sa vie et ses Ouvrages, has unfortunately not been
accessible.

LETTERS

FROM AN

AMERICAN FARMER;
DESCRIBING
CERTAIN PROVINCIAL SITUATIONS,
MANNERS, AND CUSTOMS,
NOT GENERALLY KNOWN;
AND CONVEYING
SOME IDEA of THE LATE and PRESENT
INTERIOR CIRCUMSTANCES

OF THE

BRITISH COLONIES
I N
NORTH AMERICA.

WRITTEN FOR THE INFORMATION OF A FRIEND
IN ENGLAND,
By J. HECTOR ST. JOHN,
A FARMER IN PENNSYLVANIA.

LONDON,
PRINTED FOR THOMAS DAVIES IN RUSSELL STREET COVENT-
GARDEN, AND LOCKYER DAVIS IN HOLBORN.
M DCC LXXXII.

ADVERTISEMENT.
[To the first edition, 1782.]
rHE following Letters are the genuine
production of the American Farmer
whose name they bear. They were pri
vately written to gratify the curiosity of a
friend; and are made public, because they con
tain much authentic information, little known
on this side the Atlantic: they cannot therefore
fail of being highly interesting to the people of
England, at a time when every body's attention
is directed towardjhe_a^airs 'of~AmeriMZ~
That these letters are the actual result of a
private correspondence, may fairly be inferred
(exclusive of other evidence) from the stile and
manner in which they are conceived; for though
plain and familiar, and sometimes animated,
they are by no means exempt from such inac
curacies as must unavoidably occur in the rapid
effusions of a confessedly inexperienced writer. Our

ADVERTISEMENT.
Our Farmer had long been an eye-witness
of transactions that have deformed the face of
America: he is one of those who dreaded, and
has severely felt, the desolating consequences of
a rupture between the parent state and her colo
nies: for he has been driven from a situation,
the enjoyment of which, the reader will find
pathetically described in the early letters of this
volume. The unhappy contest, is at length
however, drawing toward a period; and it is
now only left us to hope, that the obvious in
terests and mutual wants of both countries, may
in due time, and in spite of all obstacles, happily
re-unite them.
Should our Farmer's letters be found to af
ford matter of useful entertainment to an in
telligent and candid publick, a second volume,
equally interesting with those now published,
may soon be expected.

TO THE

ABBE RAYNAL, F. R. S.

BEHOLD, Sir, an humble American
Planter, a simple cultivator of the
earth, addressing you from the farther
side of the Atlantic ; and presuming to fix your
name at the head of his trifling lucubrations.
I wish they were worthy of so great an honour.
Yet why should not I be permitted to disclose
those sentiments which I have so often felt
from my heart ? A few years since, I met acci
dentally with your Political and Philosophical
History, and perused it with infinite pleasure.
For the first time in my life I reflected on the
relative state of nations; I traced the extended
ramifications of a commerce which ought to
unite,

DEDICATION.
unite, but now convulses the world ; I admired
that universal benevolence, that diffusive good
will, which is not confined to the narrow limits
of your own country; but on the contrary, ex
tends to the whole human race. As an eloquent
and powerful advocate, you have pleaded the
cause of humanity in espousing that of the poor
Africans : you viewed these provinces of North
America in their true light, as the asylum of
, freedom; as the cradle of future nations, and
the refuge of distressed Europeans. Why then
should I refrain from loving and respecting a
man whose writings I so much admire ? These
two sentiments are inseparable, at least in my
breast. I conceived your genius to be present at
the head of my study: under its invisible but
powerful guidance, I prosecuted my small
labours: and now, permit me to sanctify them
under the auspices of your name. Let the sin
cerity of the motives which urge me, prevent
you from thinking that this well meant address
contains aught but the purest tribute of rev
erence and affection. There is, no doubt, a
secret communion among good men throughout
the world ; a mental affinity connecting them by
a similitude of sentiments: then why, though
an American, should not I be permitted to share
in that extensive intellectual consanguinity?
Yes, I do : and though the name of a man who
possesses

DEDICATION.
possesses neither titles nor places, who never
rose above the humble rank of a farmer, may
appear insignificant; yet, as the sentiments I
have expressed, are also the eccho of those of
my countrymen; on their behalf, as well as on
my own, give me leave to subscribe myself,
Sir,
Your very sincere admirer,
pSS^ J. HECTOR ST. JOHN.

xxxni

TABLE O F
CONTENTS.

/

LETTER I. Page
NTRODUCTION - - - - i

LETTER II.

On the situation, feelings, and pleasures of an
American Farmer  22
LETTER III.
What is an American? - - - - 48
LETTER IV.
Description of the island of Nantucket, with
the manners, customs, policy, and trade of
the Inhabitants  119

CONTENTS.
LETTER V.
Customary education and employment of the
inhabitants of Nantucket - - 156
LETTER VI.
Description of the island of Martha's Vine
yard, and of the Whale Fishery - 165
LETTER VII.
Manners and customs at Nantucket - 183
LETTER VIII.
Peculiar customs at Nantucket - - 202
LETTER IX.
Description of Charles-Town; thoughts on
slavery; on physical evil; a melancholy
scene - -  222
LETTER X.
On snakes; and on the humming-bird - 246
LETTER

CONTENTS.
LETTER XL
From Mr. Iw — n Al — z, a Russian gentleman,
describing the visit he paid, at my request, to
Mr. Iohn Bertram, the celebrated Pennsyl
vania botanist  258
LETTER XII.
Distresses of a Frontier-man - - 281/

Appendix I. ------331

Appendix II.  349

Notes  352

LETTERS FROM AN
AMERICAN FARMER.
LETTER I.
INTRODUCTION.
WHO would have thought that be
cause I received you with hospitality
and kindness, you should imagine
me capable of writing with propriety and pers
picuity? Your gratitude misleads your judge
ment. The knowledge which I acquired from
your conversation has amply repaid me for
your five weeks entertainment. I gave you
nothing more than what common hospitality
dictated; but could any other guest have in
structed me as you did ? You conducted me, on
the map, from one European country to an
other; told me many extraordinary things of
our famed mother-country, of which I knew
very little; of its internal navigation, agricul
ture, arts, manufactures, and trade : you guided me

2 INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
me through an extensive maze, and I abun
dantly profited by the journey; the contrast
therefore proves the debt of gratitude to be on
my side. The treatment you received at my
house proceeded from the warmth of my heart,
and from the corresponding sensibility of my
wife; what you now desire, must flow from a
very limited power of mind: the task requires
recollection, and a variety of talents which I do
not possess. It is true I can describe our Amer
ican modes of farming, our manners, and pe
culiar customs, with some degree of propriety,
because I have ever attentively studied them;
but my knowledge extends no farther. And is
this local and unadorned information sufficient
to answer all your expectations, and to satisfy
your curiosity? I am surprised that in the
course of your American travels, you should not
have found out persons more enlightened and
better educated than I am ; your predilection ex
cites my wonder much more than my vanity;
my share of the latter being confined merely to
the neatness of my rural operations.
My father left me a few musty books, which
his father brought from England with him;
but what help can I draw from a library con
sisting mostly of Scotch Divinity, the Naviga
tion of Sir Francis Drake, the History of Queen
Elizabeth, and a few miscellaneous volumes? Our

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 3
Our Minister often comes to see me, though
he lives upwards of twenty miles distant.
I have shewn him your letter, asked his advice,
and solicited his assistance ; he tells me, that he
hath no time to spare, for that like the rest of us
must till his farm, and is moreover to study
what he is to say on the sabbath. My wife,
(and I never do any thing without consulting
her) laughs, and tells me, that you cannot be in
earnest. What! says she, James, wouldst thee '
pretend to send epistles to a great European
man, who hath lived abundance of time in that
big house called Cambridge; where, they say,
that worldly learning is so abundant, that peo
ple gets it onlybybreathing the air of the place ?
Wouldst not thee be ashamed to write, unto a
man who has never in his life done a single day's
work, no, not even felled a tree; who hath—
expended the Lord knows how many years in
studying stars, geometry, stones, and flies, and
in reading folio books? Who hath travelled,
as he told us, to the city of Rome itself ! Only
think of a London man going to Rome ! Where
is it that these English folks won't go? One
who hath seen the factory of brimstone at Su-
vius, and town of Pompey under ground!
wouldst thou pretend to letter it with a person
who hath been to Paris, to the Alps, to Peters
burgh, and who hath seen so many fine things up

4 INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
up and down the old countries ; who hath come
over the great sea unto us, and hath journeyed
from our New Hampshire in the East to
our Charles Town in the South; who hath
visited all our great cities, knows most of our
famous lawyers and cunning folks; who hath
conversed with very many king's men, gover
nors, and counsellors, and yet pitches upon thee
for his correspondent, as thee calls it? surely
> he means to jeer thee ! I am sure he does, he
fiot be in a real fair earnest. James, thee
t read this letter over again, paragraph by
tgraph, and warily observe whether thee
st perceive some words of jesting; some-
g that hath more than one meaning: and
now I think on it, husband, I wish thee wouldst
let me see his letter ; though I am but a woman,
as thee mayest say, yet I understand the purport
of words in good measure, for when I was
a girl, father sent us to the very best master
in the precinct. — She then read it herself very
attentively: our minister was present, we lis
tened to, and weighed every syllable: we all
unanimously concluded that you must have been
in a sober earnest intention, as my wife calls it;
and your request appeared to be candid and
sincere. Then again, on recollecting the differ
ence between your sphere of life and mine, a
new fit of astonishment seized us all ! Our

/
/

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 5
Our minister took the letter from my wife,
and read it to himself; he made us observe the
two last phrases, and we weighed the contents
to the best of our abilities. The conclusion we
all drew, made me resolve at last to write. 
You say you want nothing of me but what lies •
within the reach of my experience and knowl- .
edge ; this I understand very well ; the difficulty .
is, how to collect, digest, and arrange what I -
I know ? Next you assert, that writing letters is ¦
nothing more than talking on paper; which, I »
must confess, appeared to me quite a new
thought. — Well then, observed our minister,
neighbour James, as you can talk well, I am
sure you must write tolerably well also;
imagine, then, that Mr. F. B. is still here, and
simply write down what you would say to him.
Suppose the questions he will put to you in his
future letters to be asked by him viva voce, as
we used to call it at the college ; then let your
answers be conceived and expressed exactly in
the same language as if he was present. This
is all that he requires from you, and I am sure
the task is not difficult. He is your friend : who
would be ashamed to write to such a person?
Although he is a man of learning and taste,
yet I am sure he will read your letters with
pleasure : if they be not elegant, they will smell
of the woods, and be a little wild ; I know your
turn,

6 INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
turn, they will contain some matters which he
never knew before. Some people are so fond
of novelty, that they will overlook many
errors of language for the sake of information.
We are all apt to love and admire exotics, tho'
they may be often inferior to what we possess;
and that is the reason I imagine why so many
persons are continually going to visit Italy. —
That country is the daily resort of modern
travellers. fames. I should like to know what is there
to be seen so goodly and profitable, that so
many should wish to visit no other country?
Minister. I do not very well know. I
fancy their object is to trace the vestiges of a
once flourishing people now extinct. There
they amuse themselves in viewing the ruins of
temples and other buildings which have very
little affinity with those of the present age, and
must therefore impart a knowledge which ap
pears useless and trifling. I have often won
dered that no skilful botanists or learned men
should come over here; methinks there would
be much more real satisfaction in observing
among us, the humble rudiments and embryos
of societies spreading every where, the recent
foundation of our towns, and the settlements
of so many rural districts. I am sure that
the rapidity of their growth would be more
pleasing

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 7
pleasing to behold, than the ruins of old
towers, useless acqueducts, or impending battle
ments. lames. What you say, Minister, seems very
true: do go on: I always love to hear you
talk. Minister. Don't you think neighbour James,
that the mind of a good and enlightened En
glishman would be more improved in remark
ing throughout these provinces the causes which
render so many people happy ? In delineating
the unnoticed means by which we daily increase
the extent of our settlements? How we convert
huge forests into pleasing fields, and exhibit
through these thirteen provinces so singular a
display of easy subsistence and political felicity.
In Italy all the objects of contemplation, all
the reveries of the traveller, must have a refer
ence to ancient generations, and to very distant
periods, clouded with the mist of ages. — Here,
on the contrary, every thing is modern, peace
ful, and benign. Here we have had no war
to desolate our fields* : our religion does not
oppress the cultivators: we are strangers to
those feudal institutions which have en
slaved so many. Here nature opens her broad lap
* The troubles, that now convulse the American colo
nies, had not broke out when this, and some of the fol
lowing letters were written.

i

8 INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
lap to receive the perpetual accession of new
comers, and to supply them with food. I am
sure I cannot be called a partial American when
I say, that the spectacle afforded by these
pleasing scenes must be more entertaining, and
more philosophical than that which arises from
beholding the musty ruins of Rome. Here
every thing would inspire the reflecting travel
ler with the most philanthropic ideas; his ima
gination, instead of submitting to the painful
and useless retrospect of revolutions, desola
tions, and plagues, would, on the contrary,
wisely spring forward to the anticipated fields
of future cultivation and improvement, to the
future extent of those generations which are to
replenish and embellish this boundless con
tinent. There the half-ruined amphitheatres,
and the putrid fevers of the Campania, must fill
the mind with the most melancholy reflections,
whilst he is seeking for the origin, and the in
tention of those structures with which he is sur
rounded, and for the cause of so great a decay.
Here he might contemplate the very beginnings
and out-lines of human society, which can be
traced no where now but in this part of the
world. The rest of the earth, I am told, is in
some places too full, in others half depopu
lated. Misguided religion, tyranny, and ab
surd laws, every where depress and afflict man
kind.

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 9
kind. Here we have in some measure regained
the ancient dignity of our species ; our laws are
simple and just, we are a race of cultivators, our
cultivation is unrestrained, and therefore every
thing is prosperous and flourishing, i For my
part I had rather admire the ample barn of one
of our opulent farmers, who himself felled the
first tree in his plantation, and was the first
founder of his settlement, than study the di
mensions of the temple of Ceres. I had rather
record the progressive steps of this industrious
farmer, throughout all the stages of his labours
and other operations, than examine how mod
ern Italian convents can be supported without
doing any thing but singing and praying.
However confined the field of speculation
might be here, the time of English travellers
would not be wholly lost. The new and unex
pected aspect of our extensive settlements; of
our fine rivers ; that great field of action every
where visible ; that ease, that peace with which
so many people live together, would greatly
interest the observer: for whatever difficulties
there might happen in the object of their re
searches, that hospitality which prevails from
one end of the continent to the other, would in
all parts facilitate their excursions. As it is
from the surface of the ground which we till,
that we have gathered the wealth we possess, the

io INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
the surface of that ground is therefore the only
s thing that has hitherto been known. It will
t require the industry of subsequent ages, the
energy of future generations, ere mankind here
. will have leisure and abilities to penetrate deep,
and, in the bowels of this continent, search for
the subterranean riches it no doubt contains.
— Neighbour James, we want much the
assistance of men of leisure and knowledge,
we want eminent chemists to inform our iron
masters; to teach us how to make and prepare
most of the colours we use. Here we have none
equal to this task. If any useful discoveries are
therefore made among us, they are the effects
of chance, or else arise from that restless in
dustry which is the principal characteristic of
these colonies.
fames. Oh ! could I express myself as you do,
my friend, I should not balance a single instant,
I should rather be anxious to commence a cor
respondence which would do me credit.
Minister. You can write full as well as you
need, and will improve very fast; trust to my
prophecy, your letters, at least, will have the
merit of coming from the edge of the great
wilderness, three hundred miles from the sea,
and three thousand miles over that sea : this will
be no detriment to them, take my word for it.
You intend one of your children for the gown, who

INTRODUCTORY LETTER, n
who knows but Mr. F. B. may give you some
assistance when the lad comes to have concerns
with the bishop; it is good for American
farmers to have friends even in England. What
he requires of you is but simple — what we
speak out among ourselves, we call conversa
tion, and a letter is only conversation put down
in black and white.
fames. You quite persuade me — if he
laughs at my aukwardness, surely he will be
pleased with my ready compliance. On my
part, it will be well meant let the execution be
what it may. I will write enough, and so let
him have the trouble of sifting the good from
the bad, the useful from the trifling; let him
select what he may want, and reject what may
not answer his purpose. After all, it is but
treating Mr. F. B. now that he is in London,
as I treated him when he was in America under
this roof; that is with the best things I had;
given with a good intention ; and the best man
ner I was able. Very different, James, very
different indeed, said my wife, I like not thy
comparison; our small house and cellar, our
orchard and garden afforded what he wanted;
one half of his time Mr. F. B. poor man, lived
upon nothing but fruit-pies, or peaches and
milk. Now these things were such as God had
given us, myself and wench did the rest; we
were

12 INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
were not the creators of these victuals, we only
cooked them as well and as neat as we could.
The first thing, James, is to know what sort of
materials thee hast within thy own self, and '
then whether thee canst dish them up. — Well,
well, wife, thee art wrong for once; if I was
filled with worldly vanity, thy rebuke would be
timely, but thee knowest that I have but little
of that. How shall I know what I am capable
of till I try? Hadst thee never employed thy
self in thy father's house to learn and to prac
tice the many branches of house-keeping that
thy parents were famous for, thee wouldst have
made but a sorry wife for an American farmer;
thee never shouldst have been mine. I mar
ried thee not for what thee hadst, but for what
thee knewest ; doest not thee observe what Mr.
F. B. says beside; he tells me, that the art of
writing is just like unto every other art of man;
that it is acquired byhabit, and by perseverance.
That is singularly true, said our Minister, he
that shall write a letter every day of the week,
will on Saturday perceive the sixth flowing from
his pen much more readily than the first. I ob
served when I first entered into the ministry and
began to preach the word, I felt perplexed and
dry, my mind was like unto a parched soil,
which produced nothing, not even weeds. By
the blessing of heaven, and my perseverance in
study

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 13
study, I grew richer in thoughts, phrases, and
words ; I felt copious, and now I can abundant
ly preach from any text that occurs to my mind.
So will it be with you, neighbour James ; begin
therefore without delay; and Mr. F. B.'s let
ters may be of great service to you : he will, no
doubt, inform you of many things : correspon
dence consists in reciprocal letters. Leave off
your diffidence, and I will do my best to help
you whenever I have any leisure. Well then,
I am resolved, I said, to follow your counsel;
my letters shall not be sent, nor will I receive
any, without reading them to you and my wife ;
women are curious, they love to know their hus
band's secrets; it will not be the first thing
which I have submitted to your joint opinions.
Whenever you come to dine with us, these shall
be the last dish on the table. Nor will they be
the most unpalatable answered the good man.
Nature hath given you a tolerable share of
sense, and that is one of her best gifts let me
tell you. She has given you besides some per
spicuity, which qualifies you to distinguish inter
esting objects; a warmth of imagination which
enables you to think with quickness; you often
extract useful reflections from objects which
presented none to my mind : you have a tender
and a well meaning heart, you love description,
and your pencil, assure yourself, is not a bad one

i4 INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
one for the pencil of a farmer; it seems to be
held without any labour ; your mind is what we
called at Yale college a Tabula rasa, where
spontaneous and strong impressions are de
lineated with facility. Ah, neighbour ! had you
received but half the education of Mr. F. B.
you had been a worthy correspondent indeed.
But perhaps you will be a more entertaining
one dressed in your simple American garb, than
if you were clad in all the gowns of Cambridge.
You will appear to him something like one of
our wild American plants, irregularly luxuriant
in its various branches, which an European
scholar may probably think ill placed and use
less. If our soil is not remarkable as yet for the
excellence of its fruits, this exuberance is how
ever a strong proof of fertility, which wants
nothing but the progressive knowledge acquired
by time to amend and to correct. It is easier to
retrench than it is to add; I do not mean to
flatter you, neighbour James, adulation would
ill become my character, you may therefore be- '
lieve what your pastor says. Were I in Europe
I should be tired with perpetually seeing espa
liers, plashed hedges, and trees dwarfed into
pigmies. Do let Mr. F. B. see on paper a few
American wild cherry trees, such as nature
forms them here, in all her unconfined vigour,
in all the amplitude of their extended limbs and
spreading

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 15
spreading ramifications — let him see that we
are possessed with strong vegitative embryos.
After all, why should not a farmer be allowed
to make use of his mental faculties as well as
others ; because a man works, is not he to think,
and if he thinks usefully, why should not he in
his leisure hours set down his thoughts ? I have
composed many a good sermon as I followed
my plough. The eyes not being then engaged
on any particular object, leaves the mind free
for the introduction of many useful ideas. It
is not in the noisy shop of a blacksmith or of a
carpenter, that these studious moments can be
enjoyed; it is as we silently till the ground, and
muse along the odoriferous furrows of our low
lands, uninterrupted either by stones or stumps ;
it is there that the salubrious effluvia of the
earth animate our spirits and serve to inspire
us; every other avocation of our farms are
severe labours compared to this pleasing occu
pation : of all the tasks which mine imposes on
me ploughing is the most agreeable, because I
can think as I work ; my mind is at leisure ; my
labour flows from instinct, as well as that of my
horses; there is no kind of difference between
us in our different shares of that operation ; one
of them keeps the furrow, the other avoids it;
at the end of my field they turn either to the
right or left as they are bid, whilst I thought lessly

1 6 INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
lessly hold and guide the plough to which they
are harnessed. Do therefore, neighbour, be
gin this correspondence, and persevere, difficul
ties will vanish in proportion as you draw near
them ; you'll be surprised at yourself by and by :
when you come to look back you'll say as I have
often said to myself; had I been diffident I had
never proceeded thus far. Would you pain
fully till your stony up-land and neglect the fine
rich bottom which lies before your door? Had
you never tried, you never had learned how to
mend and make your ploughs. It will be no
small pleasure to your children to tell hereafter,
that their father was not only one of the most
industrious farmers in the country, but one of
the best writers. When you have once begun,
do as when you begin breaking up your sum
mer fallow, you never consider what remains to
be done, you view only what you have
ploughed. Therefore, neighbour James, take
my advice ; it will go well with you, I am sure
it will.  And do you really think so Sir?
Your counsel, which I have long folowed,
weighs much with me, I verily believe that I
must write to Mr. F. B. by the first vessel. 
If thee persistest in being such a fool hardy
man, said my wife, for God's sake let it be kept
a profound secret among us; if it were once
known abroad that thee writest to a great and
rich

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 17
rich man over at London, there would be no
end of the talk of the people; some would
vow that thee art going to turn an author,
others would pretend to foresee some great
alterations in the welfare of thy family; some
would say this, some would say that: Who
would wish to become the subject of public
talk? Weigh this matter well before thee be-
ginnest, James — consider that a great deal of
thy time, and of thy reputation is at stake as I
may say. Wert thee to write as well as friend
Edmund, whose speeches I often see in our pa
pers, it would be the very self same thing ; thee
wouldst be equally accused of idleness, and vain
notions not befitting thy condition. Our colo
nel would be often coming here to know what
it is that thee canst write so much about. Some
would imagine that thee wantest to become
either an assembly-man or a magistrate, which
God forbid ; and that thee art telling the king's
men abundance of things. Instead of being
well looked upon as now, and living in peace
with alLthe world, our neighbours would be
making strange surmises : I had rather be as we
are, neither better nor worse than the rest of
our country folks. Thee knowest what I. mean,
though I should be sorry to deprive thee of any
honest recreation. Therefore as I have said be
fore, let it be as great a secret as if it was some
heinous

1 8 INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
heinous crime ; the minister, I am sure, wiM not
divulge it; as for my part, though I am a
woman, yet I know what it is to be a wife. — I
would not have thee James pass for what the
world calleth a writer; no, not for a peck of
gold, as the saying is. Thy father before thee
"-¦ was a plain dealing honest man, punctual in all
C^ things; he was one of yea and nay, of few
words, all he minded was his farm and his
work. I wonder from whence thee hast got this
love of the pen? Had he spent his time in
sending epistles to and fro, he never would
have left thee this goodly plantation, free from
debt. All I say is in good meaning ; great peo
ple over sea may write to our town's folks, be
cause they have nothing else to do. These Eng
lishmen are strange people; because they can
live upon what they call bank notes, without
working, they think that all the world can do
the same. This goodly country never would
have been tilled and cleared with these notes.
I am sure when Mr. F. B. was here, he saw thee
sweat and take abundance of pains; he often
told me how the Americans worked a great
deal harder than the home Englishmen; for
-there he .told us, that they have no trees to cut
down,. no fences to make, no negroes to buy and
to clothe : and now I think on it, when wilt thee
send him those trees he bespoke? But if they
have

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 19
have no trees to cut down, they have gold in
abundance, they say ; for they rake it and scrape
it from all parts far and near. I have often
heard my grandfather tell how they live there
by writing. By writing they send this cargo
unto us, that to the West, and the other to the
East Indies. But, James, thee knowest that it
is not by writing that we shall pay the black
smith, the minister, the weaver, the tailor, and
the English shop. But as thee art an early
man follow thine own inclinations ; thee wantest
some rest, I am sure, and why should'st thee
not employ it as it may seem meet unto thee. —
However let it be a great secret; how wouldst
thee bear to be called at our country meetings,
the man of the pen? If this scheme of thine
was once known, travellers as they go along
would point out to our house, saying, here
liveth the scribbling farmer: better hear them
as usual observe, here liveth the warm sub
stantial family, that never begrudgeth a meal
of victuals, or a mess of oats, to any one that
steps in. Look how fat and well clad their
negroes are.
Thus, Sir, have I given you an unaffected
and candid detail of the conversation which de
termined me to accept of your invitation. I
thought it necessary thus to begin, and to let
you into these primary secrets, to the end that you

20 INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
you may not hereafter reproach me with any
degree of presumption. You'll plainly see the
motives which have induced me to begin, the
fears which I have entertained, and the prin
ciples on which my diffidence hath been found
ed. I have now nothing to do but to prosecute
my task — Remember you are to give me my
subjects, and on no other shall I write, lest you
should blame me for an injudicious choice —
However incorrect my stile, however unexpert
my methods, however trifling my observations
may hereafter appear to you, assure yourself
they will all be the genuine dictates of my
mind, and I hope will prove acceptable on that
account. Remember that you have laid the
foundation of this correspondence; you well
know that I am neither a philosopher, politi
cian, divine, nor naturalist, but a simple farmer.
I flatter myself, therefore, that you'll receive
my letters as conceived, not according to
scientific rules to which I am a perfect stranger,
but agreeable to the spontaneous impressions
which each subject may inspire. This is the
only line I am able to follow, the line which
nature has herself traced for me ; this was the
covenant which I made with you, and with
which you' seemed to be well pleased. Had you
wanted the stile of the learned, the reflections
of the patriot, the discussions of the politician, the

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 21
the curious observations of the naturalist, the
pleasing garb of the man of taste, surely you
would have applied to some of those men of
letters with which our cities abound. But since
on the contrary, and for what reason I know
not, you wish to correspond with a cultivator of
the earth, with a simple citizen, you must re
ceive my letters for better or worse.

LETTTER

22 SITUATION, &c. OF AN

LETTER II.
ON THE SITUATION, FEELINGS, AND PLEAS
URES, OF AN AMERICAN FARMER.
AS you are the first enlightened Euro
pean I have ever had the pleasure of
being acquainted with, you will not
be surprised that I should, according to your
earnest desire and my promise, appear anxious
of preserving your friendship and correspond
ence. By your accounts, I observe a material
difference subsists between your husbandry,
modes, and customs, and ours; every thing is
local; could we enjoy the advantages of the
English farmer, we should be much happier,
indeed, but this wish, like many others, im
plies a contradiction; and could the English
farmer have some of those privileges we pos
sess, they would be the first of their class in the
world. Good and evil I see is to be found in
all societies, and it is in vain to seek for any spot
where those ingredients are not mixed. I there
fore rest satisfied, and thank God that my lot is
to be an American farmer, instead of a Russian
boor, or an Hungarian peasant. I thank you
kindly for the idea, however dreadful, which you

AMERICAN FARMER. 23
you have given me of their lot and condition;
your observations have confirmed me in the
justness of my ideas, and I am happier now
than I thought myself before. It is strange that
misery, when viewed in others, should become
to us a sort ®f real good, though I am far from
rejoicing to hear that there are in the world men
so thoroughly wretched; they are no doubt as
harmless, industrious, and willing to work as we
are. Hard is their fate to be thus condemned
to a «lavery worse than that of our negroes. Yet
when young I entertained some thoughts of
selling my farm. I thought it afforded but a
dull repetition of the same labours and pleas
ures. I thought the former tedious and heavy,
the latter few and insipid ; but when I came to
consider myself as divested of my farm, I then
found the world so wide, and every place so
full, that I began to fear lest there would be no
room for me. My farm, my house, my barn,
presented to my imagination, objects from
which I adduced quite new ideas; they were
more forcible than before. Why should not I
find myself happy, said I, where my father was
before ? He left me no good books it is true,
he gave me no other education than the art of
reading and writing; but he left me a good
farm, and his experience ; he left me free from
debts, and no kind of difficulties to struggle with

24 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
with. — I married, and this perfectly reconciled
me to my situation ; my wife rendered my house
all at once chearful and pleasing; it no longer
appeared gloomy and solitary as before; when
I went to work in my fields I worked with more
alacrity and sprightliness ; I felt that I did not
work for myself alone, and this encouraged me
much. My wife would often come with her
kitting in her hand, and sit under the shady
trees, praising the straightness of my furrows,
and the docility of my horses; this swelled my
heart and made every thing light and pleasant,
and I regretted that I had not married before.
» I felt myself happy in my new situation, and
j where is that station which can confer a more
i substantial system of felicity than that of an
• American farmer, possessing freedom of action,
•freedom of thoughts, ruled by a mode of gov-
' ernment which requires but little from us ? I
owe nothing, but a pepper corn to my country,
a small tribute to my king, with loyalty and due
respect; I know no other landlord than the lord
of all land, to whom I owe the most sincere
gratitude. My father left me three hundred
and seventy-one acres of land, forty-seven of
which are good timothy meadow, an excellent
orchard, a good house, and a substantial barn..
It is my duty to think how happy I am that he
lived to build and to pay for all these improve ments

AMERICAN FARMER. 25
ments; what are the labours which I have to
undergo, what are my fatigues when compared
to his, who had every thing to do, from the first
tree he felled to the finishing of his house?
Every year I kill from 1500 to 2,000 weight of
pork, 1,200 of beef, half a dozen of good
wethers in harvest: of fowls my wife has al
ways a great stock : what can I wish more ? My
negroes are tolerably faithful and healthy ; by a
long series of industry and honest dealings, my
father left behind him the name of a good man ;
I have but to tread his paths to be happy and
a good man like him. I know enough of the
law to regulate my little concerns with pro
priety, nor do I dread its power ; these are the
grand outlines of my situation, but as I can feel
much more than I am able to express, I hardly
know how to proceed. When my first son was
born, the whole train of my ideas were sud
denly altered; never was there a charm that
acted so quickly and powerfully; I ceased to
ramble in imagination through the wide world ;
my excursions since have not exceeded the
bounds of my farm, and all my principal pleas
ures are now centered within its scanty limits :
but at the same time there is not an operation
belonging to it in which I do not find some food
for useful reflections. This is the reason, I
suppose, that when you was here, you used, in
your

26 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
your refined stile, to denominate me the farmer
of feelings ; how rude must those feelings be in
him who daily holds the axe or the plough, how
much more refined on the contrary those of the
European, whose mind is improved by educa
tion, example, books, and by every acquired ad
vantage! Those feelings, however, I will de
lineate as well as I can, agreeably to your ear
nest request. When I contemplate my wife, by
my fire-side, while she either spins, knits, darns,
or suckles our child, I cannot describe the vari
ous emotions of love, of gratitude, of conscious
pride which thrill in my heart, and often over
flow in involuntary tearsD I feel the necessity,
the sweet pleasure of acting my part, the part
of an husband and father, with an attention and
propriety which may entitle me to my good
fortune. It is true these pleasing images vanish
with the smoke of my pipe, but though they
disappear from my mind, the impression they
have made on my heart is indelible. When I
play with the infant, my warm imagination
runs forward, and eagerly anticipates his future
temper and constitution. I would willingly
open the book of fate, and know in which page
his destiny is delineated; alas! where is the
father who in those moments of paternal extacy
can delineate one half of the thoughts which
dilate his heart ? I am sure I cannot ; then again
I fear

AMERICAN FARMER. 27
I fear for the health of those who are become
so dear to me, and in their sicknesses I severely
pay for the joys I experienced while they were .
well. Whenever I go abroad it is always in
voluntary. I never return home without feeling
some pleasing emotion, which I often suppress
as useless and foolish. The instant I enter on
my own land, the bright idea of property, of
exclusive right, of independence exalt my mind.
Precious soil, I say to myself, by what singular
custom of law is it that thou wast made to con
stitute the riches of the freeholder? What
should we American farmers be without the
distinct possession of that soil? It feeds, it
clothes us, from it we draw even a great ex
uberancy, our best meat, our richest drink, the
very honey of our bees comes from this priv
ileged spot. No wonder we should thus cherish
its possession, no wonder that so many Euro
peans who have never been able to say that such
portion of land was theirs, cross the Atlantic to
realize that happiness. This formerly rude
soil has been converted by my father into a
pleasant farm, and in return it has established
all our rights; on it is founded our rank, our
freedom, our power as citizens, our importance
as inhabitants of such a district. These images
I must confess I always behold with pleasure,
and extend them as far as my imagination can
reach

28 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
reach : for this is what may be called the true
and the only philosophy of an American
farmer. Pray do not laugh in thus seeing an
artless countryman tracing himself through the
simple modifications of his life; remember that
you have required it, therefore with candor.
though with diffidence, I endeavour to follow
the thread of my feelings, but I cannot tell you
all. Often when I plough my low ground, I
place my little boy on a chair which screws to
the beam of the plough — its motion and that
of the horses please him, he is perfectly happy
and begins to chat. As I lean over the handle,
various are the thoughts which croud into my
mind. I am now doing for him, I say, what
my father formerly did for me, may God en
able him to live that he may perform the same
operations for the same purposes when I am
worn out and old ! I relieve his mother of some
trouble while I have him with me, the odor
iferous furrow exhilarates his spirits, and seems
to do the child a great deal of good, for he
looks more blooming since I have adopted that
practice; can more pleasure, more dignity be
added to that primary occupation ? The father
thus ploughing with his child, and to feed his
family, is inferior only to the emperor of China
ploughing as an example to his kingdom. In
the evening when I return home through my
low

AMERICAN FARMER. 29
low grounds, I am astonished at the myriads of
insects which I perceive dancing in the beams
of the setting sun. I was before scarcely ac
quainted with their existence, they are so small
that it is difficult to distinguish them; they are
carefully improving this short evening space,
not daring to expose themselves to the blaze of
our meridian sun. I never see an egg brought
on my table but I feel penetrated with the won
derful change it would have undergone but for
my gluttony; it might have been a gentle use
ful hen leading her chickens with a care and
vigilance which speaks shame to many women.
A cock perhaps, arrayed with the most ma
jestic plumes, tender to its mate, bold, cour
ageous, endowed with an astonishing instinct,
with thoughts, with memory, and every distin
guishing characteristic of the reason of man. I
never see my trees drop their leaves and their
fruit in the autumn, and bud again in the
spring, without wonder; the sagacity of those
animals which have long been the tenants of my
farm astonish me: some of them seem to sur
pass even men in memory and sagacity. I could
tell you singular instances of that kind. What
then is this instinct which we so debase, and of
which we are taught to entertain so diminutive
an idea ? My bees, above any other tenants of
my farm, attract my attention and respect ; I am
astonished

30 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
astonished to see that nothing exists but what
has its enemy, one species pursue and live upon
the other: unfortunately our kingbirds are the
destroyers of those industrious insects; but on
the other hand, these birds preserve our fields
from the depredation of crows which they pur
sue on the wing with great vigilance and aston
ishing dexterity. Thus divided by two inter
ested motives, I have long resisted the desire I
had to kill them, until last year, when I thought
they increased too much, and my indulgence
had been carried too far ; it was at the time of
swarming when they all came and fixed them
selves on the neighbouring trees, from whence
they catched those that returned loaded from
the fields. This made me resolve to kill as
many as I could, and I was just ready to fire,
when a bunch of bees as big as my fist, issued
from one of the hives, rushed on one of the
birds, and probably strung him, for he instantly
screamed, and flew, not as before, in an irregu
lar manner, but in a direct line. He was fol
lowed by the same bold phalanx, at a consider
able distance, which unfortunately becoming
too sure of victory, quitted their military array
and disbanded themselves. By this inconsider
ate step they lost all that aggregate of force
which had made the bird fly off. Perceiving
their disorder he immediately returned and
snapped

AMERICAN FARMER. 31
snapped as many as he wanted; nay he had
even the impudence to alight on the very twig
from which the bees had drove him. I killed
him and immediately opened his craw, from
which I took 171 bees; I laid them all on a
blanket in the sun, and to my great surprise 54
returned to life, licked themselves clean, and
joyfully went back to the hive; where they
probably informed their companions of such an
adventure and escape, as I believe had never
happened before to American bees ! I draw a
great fund of pleasure from the quails which
inhabit my farm ; they abundantly repay me, by
their various notes and peculiar tameness, for
the inviolable hospitality I constantly shew
them in the winter. Instead of perfidiously tak
ing advantage of their great and affecting dis
tress, when nature offers nothing but a barren
universal bed of snow, when irresistible neces
sity forces them to my barn doors, I permit
them to feed unmolested ; and it is not the least
agreeable spectacle which that dreary season
presents, when I see those beautiful birds,
tamed by hunger, intermingling with all my
cattle and sheep, seeking in security for the
poor scanty grain which but for them would be
useless and lost. Often in the angles of the
fences where the motion of the wind prevents
the snow from settling, I carry them both chaff and

32 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
and grain; the one to feed them, the other to
prevent their tender feet from freezing fast to
the earth as I have frequently observed them to
do. I do not know an instance in which the
singular barbarity of man is so strongly de
lineated, as in the catching and murthering
those harmless birds, at that cruel season of the
year. Mr. ***, one of the most famous and ex
traordinary farmers that has ever done honour
to the province of Connecticut, by his timely
and humane assistance in a hard winter, saved
this species from being entirely destroyed.
They perished all over the country, none of
their delightful whistlings were heard the next
spring, but upon this gentleman's farm ; and to
his humanity we owe the continuation of their
music. When the severities of that season have
dispirited all my cattle, no farmer ever attends
them with more pleasure than I do ; it is one of
those duties which is sweetened with the most
rational satisfaction. I amuse myself in behold
ing their different tempers, actions, and the
various effects of their instinct now powerfully
impelled by the force of hunger. I trace their
various inclinations, and the different effects of
their passions, which are exactly the same as
among men; the law is to us precisely what I
am in my barn yard, a bridle and check to pre
vent the strong and greedy, from oppressing the

AMERICAN FARMER. 33
the timid and weak. Conscious of superiority
they always strive to encroach on their neigh
bours; unsatisfied with their portion, they
eagerly swallow it in order to have an oppor
tunity of taking what is given to others, except
they are prevented. Some I chide, others, un
mindful of my admonitions, receive some
blows. Could victuals thus be given to men with
out the assistance of any language, I am sure
they would not behave better to one another,
nor more philosophically than my cattle do.
The same spirit prevails in the stable ; but there
I have to do with more generous animals, there
my well known voice has immediate influence,
and soon restores peace and tranquillity. Thus
by superior knowledge I govern all my cattle as
wise men are obliged to govern fools and the
ignorant. A variety of other thoughts croud
on my mind at that peculiar instant, but they all
vanish by the time I return home. If in a cold
night I swiftly travel in my sledge, carried
along at the rate of twelve miles an hour, many
are the reflections excited by surrounding cir
cumstances. I ask myself what sort of an agent
is that which we call frost ? Our minister com
pares it to needles, the points ot which enters
our pores. What is become of the heat of the
summer ; in what part of the world is it that the
N. W. keeps these grand magazines of nitre? when

34 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
when I- see in the morning a river over which I
can travel, that in the evening before was
liquid, I am astonished indeed! What is be
come of those millions of insects which played
in our summer fields, and in our evening
meadows; they were so puny and so delicate,
the period of their existence was so short, that
one cannot help wondering how they could
learn, in that short space, the sublime art to hide
themselves and their offspring in so perfect a
manner as to baffle the rigour of the season, and
preserve that precious embrio of life, that small
portion of ethereal heat, which if once de
stroyed would destroy the species! Whence
that irresistible propensity to sleep so common
in all those who are severely attacked by the
frost. Dreary as this season appears, yet it has
like all others its miracles, it presents to man a
variety of problems which he can never resolve;
among the rest, we have here a set of small
birds which never appear until the snow falls;
contrary to all others, they dwell and appear to
delight in that element.
It is my bees, however, which afford me the
most pleasing and extensive themes ; let me look
at them when I will, their government, their
industry, their quarrels, their passions, always
present me with something new ; for which rea
son, when weary with labour, my common place

AMERICAN FARMER. 35
place of rest is under my locust-tree, close by
my bee-house. By their movements I can pre
dict the weather, and can tell the day of their
swarming; but the most difficult point is, when
on the wing, to know whether they want to go
to the woods or not. If they have previously
pitched in some hollow trees, it is not the allure
ments of salt and water, of fennel, hickory
leaves, &c. nor the finest box, that can induce
them to stay; they will prefer those rude, rough
habitations to the best polished mahogany hive.
When that is the case with mine, I seldom
thwart their inclinations; it is in freedom that
they work : were I to confine them, they would
dwindle away and quit their labour. In such
excursions we only part for a while ; I am gen
erally sure to find them again the following fall.
This elopement of theirs only adds to my rec
reations; I know how to deceive even their
superlative instinct ; nor do I fear losing them,
though eighteen miles from my house, and
lodged in the most lofty trees, in the most im
pervious of our forests. I once took you along
with me in one of these rambles, and yet you
insist on my repeating the detail of our opera
tions: it brings back into my mind many of the
useful and entertaining reflections with which
you so happily beguiled our tedious hours.
[After I have done sowing, by way of recrea tion,

36 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
tion, I prepare for a week's jaunt in the woods,
not to hunt either the deer or the bears, as my
neighbours do, but to catch the more harmless
bees. I cannot boast that this chase is so noble,
or so famous among men, but I find it less
fatiguing, and full as profitable; and the last
consideration is the only one that moves me.
I take with me my dog, as a companion, for he
is useless as to this game; my gun, for no man
you know ought to enter the woods without
one; my blanket, some provisions, some wax,
vermilion, honey, and a small pocket compass^
With these implements I proceed to such woods
as are at a considerable distance from any set
tlements. I carefully examine whether they
abound with large trees, if so, I make a small
fire on some flat stones, in a convenient place;
on the fire I put some wax ; close by this fire, on
another stone, I drop honey in distinct drops,
which I surround with small quantities of ver-
million, laid on the stone ; and then I retire care
fully to watch whether any bees appear. If
there are any in that neighbourhood, I rest as
sured that the smell of the burnt wax will un
avoidably attract them ; they will soon find out
the honey, for they are fond of preying on that
which is not their own; and in their approach
they will necessarily tinge themselves with some
particles of vermillion, which will adhere long to

AMERICAN FARMER. 37
to their bodies. I next fix my compass, to find
out their course, which they keep invariably
strait, when they are returning home loaded.
By the assistance of my watch, I observe how
long those are returning which are marked with
vermillion. Thus possessed of the course, and,
in some measure, of the distance, which I can
easily guess at, I follow the first, and seldom
fail of coming to the tree where those republics
are lodged. I then mark it; and thus, with
patience, I have found out sometimes eleven
swarms in a season ; and it is inconceivable what
a quantity of honey these trees wil sometimes
afford. It entirely depends on the size of the
hollow, as the bees never rest nor swarm till it
is all replenished; for like men, it is only the
want of room that induces them to quit the
maternal hive. Next I proceed to some of the
nearest settlements, where I procure proper as
sistance to cut down the trees, get all my prey
secured, and then return home with my prize.
The first bees I ever procured were thus found
in the woods, by mere accident ; for at that time
I had no kind of skill in this method of tracing
them. The body of the tree being perfectly
sound, they had lodged themselves in the hol
low of one of its principal limbs, which I care
fully sawed off and with a good deal of labour
and industry brought it home, where I fixed it
up

3 8 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
up again in the same position in which I found
it growing. This was in April; I had five
swarms that year, and they have been ever since
very prosperous. This business generally takes
up a week of my time every fall, and to me it is
a week of solitary ease and relaxation.
The seed is by that time committed to the
ground; there is nothing very material to do
at home, and this additional quantity of honey
enables me to be more generous to my home
bees, and my wife to make a due quantity of
mead. The reason, Sir, that you found mine
better than that of others is, that she puts two
gallons of brandy in each barrel, which ripens
it, and takes off that sweet, luscious taste, which
it is apt to retain a long time. If we find any
where in the woods (no matter on whose land)
what is called a bee-tree, we must mark it; in
the fall of the year when we propose to cut it
down, our duty is to inform the proprietor of
the land, who is entitled to half the contents;
if this is not complied with we are exposed to
an action of trespass, as well as he who should
go and cut down a bee-tree which he had
neither found out nor marked.
We have twice a year the pleasure of catch
ing pigeons, whose numbers are sometimes so
astonishing as to obscure the sun in their flight.
Where is it that they hatch? for such multi tudes

AMERICAN FARMER. 39
tudes must require an immense quantity of
food. I fancy they breed toward the plains of
Ohio, and those about lake Michigan, which
abound in wild oats; though I have never kil
led any that had that grain in their craws. In
one of them, last year, I found some undigested
rice. Now the nearest rice fields from where I
live, must be at least 560 miles; and either their
digestion must be suspended while they are
flying, or else they must fly with the celerity
of the wind. We catch them with a net ex
tended on the ground, to which they are allured
by what we call tame wild pigeons, made blind,
and fastened to a long string ; his short flights,
and his repeated calls, never fail to bring them
down. The greatest number I ever catched
was fourteen dozen, though much larger quan
tities have often been trapped. I have fre
quently seen them at the market so cheap, that
for a penny you might have as many as you
could carry away; and yet from the extreme
cheapness you must not conclude, that they
are but an ordinary food; on the contrary, I
think they are excellent. Every farmer has a
tame wild pigeon in a cage at his door all the
year round, in order to be ready whenever the
season comes for catching them.
The pleasure I receive from the warblings
of the birds in the spring, is superior to my
poor

40 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
poor description, as the continual succession
of their tuneful notes is for ever new to me. I
generally rise from bed about that indistinct
interval, which, properly speaking, is neither
night or day; for this is the moment of the
most universal vocal choir. Who can listen
unmoved, to the sweet love tales of our robins,
told from tree to tree? or to the shrill cat
birds? The sublime accents of the thrush from
on high, always retard my steps that I may
listen to the delicious music. The variegated
appearances of the dew drops, as they hang to
the different objects, must present even to a
clownish imagination, the most voluptuous
ideas. The astonishing art which all birds dis
play in the construction of their nests, ill pro
vided as we may suppose them with proper
tools, their neatness, their convenience, always
make me ashamed of the slovenliness of our
houses; their love to their dame, their inces
sant careful attention, and the peculiar songs
they address to her while she tediously incu
bates their eggs, remind me of my duty could
I ever forget it. Their affection to their help
less little ones, is a lively precept; and in
short, the whole oeconomy of what we proudly
call the brute creation, is admirable in every cir
cumstance ; and vain man, though adorned with
the additional gift of reason, might learn from the

AMERICAN FARMER. 41
the perfection of instinct, how to regulate the
follies, and how to temper the errors which
this second gift often makes him commit. This
is a subject, on which I have often bestowed
the most serious thoughts; I have often blushed
within myself, and been greatly astonished,
when I have compared the unerring path they
all follow, all just, all proper, all wise, up to
the necessary degree of perfection, with the
coarse, the imperfect systems of men, not
merely as governours and kings, but as masters,
as husbands, as fathers, as citizens. But this
is a sanctuary in which an ignorant farmer
must not presume to enter. If ever man was
permitted to receive and enjoy some blessings
that might alleviate the many sorrows to which
he is exposed, it is certainly in the country,
when he attentively considers those ravishing
scenes with which he is every where sur
rounded. This is the only time of the year
in which "I am avaricious of every moment, I
therefore lose none that can add to this simple
and inoffensive happiness. I roam early
throughout all my fields; not the least opera
tion do I perform, which is not accompanied
with the most pleasing observations; were I to
extend them as far as I have carried them, I
should become tedious; you would think me
guilty of affectation, and I should perhaps re
present

42 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
present many things as pleasurable from which
you might not perhaps receive the least agree
able emotions. But, believe me, what I write
is all true and real.
Some time ago, as I sat smoaking a con
templative pipe in my piazza, I saw with
amazement a remarkable instance of selfish
ness displayed in a very small bird, which I
had hitherto respected for its inoffensiveness.
Three nests were placed almost contiguous to
each other in my piazza: that of a swallow
was affixed in the corner next to the house,
that of a phebe in the other, a wren possessed
a little box which I had made on purpose, and
hung between. Be not surprised at their tame-
ness, all my family had long been taught to
respect them as well as myself. The wren had
shewn before signs of dislike to the box which
I had given it, but I knew not on what ac
count; at last it resolved, small as it was, to
drive the swallow from its own habitation, and
to my very great surprise it succeeded. Im
pudence often gets the better of modesty, and
this exploit was no sooner performed, than it
removed every material to its own box with
the most admirable dexterity; the signs of tri
umph appeared very visible, it fluttered its
wings with uncommon velocity, an universal
joy was perceivable in all its movements. Where

AMERICAN FARMER. 43
Where did this little bird learn that spirit of
injustice? It was not endowed with what we
term reason! Here then is a proof that both
those gifts border very near on one another;
for we see the perfection of the one mixing
with the errors of the other! The peacable
swallow like the passive Quaker, meekly sat
at a small distance and never offered the least
resistance; but no sooner was the plunder car
ried away, than the injured bird went to work
with unabated ardour, and in a few days the
depredations were repaired. To prevent hov-
ever a repetition of the same violence, I re
moved the wren's box to another part of the
house. In the middle of my new parlour I have, you
may remember, a curious republic of indus
trious hornets; their nest hangs to the cieling,
by the same twig on which it was so admirably
built and contrived in the woods. Its removal
did not displease them, for they find in my
house plenty of food; and I have left a hole
open in one of the panes of the window, which
answers all their purposes. By this kind usage
they are become quite harmless; they live on
the flies, which are very troublesome to us
throughout the summer; they are constantly
busy in catching them, even on the eyelids of
my children. It is surprising how quickly they

44 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
they smear them with a sort of glue, lest they
might escape, and when thus prepared, they
carry them to their nests, as food for their
young ones. These globular nests are most
ingeniously divided into many stories, all pro
vided with cells, and proper communications.
The materials with which this fabric is built,
they procure from the cottony furze, with
which our oak rails are covered ; this substance
tempered with glue, produces a sort of paste
board, which is very strong, and resists all the
inclemencies of the weather. By their assist
ance, I am but little troubled with flies. All
my family are so accustomed to their strong
buzzing, that no one takes any notice of them;
and though they are fierce and vindictive, yet
kindness and hospitality has made them useful
and harmless.
We have a great variety of wasps; most of
them build their nests in mud, which they fix
against the shingles of our roofs, as nigh the
pitch as they can. These aggregates represent
nothing, at first view, but coarse and irregular
lumps, but if you break them, you will ob
serve, that the inside of them contains a great
number of oblong cells, in which they deposit
their eggs, and in which they bury themselves
in the fall of the year. Thus immured they
securely pass through the severity of that sea son

AMERICAN FARMER. 45
son, and on the return of the sun are enabled to
perforate their cells, and to open themselves
a passage from these recesses into the sunshine.
The yellow wasps, which build under ground,
in our meadows, are much more to be dreaded,
for when the mower unwittingly passes his
scythe over their holes they immediately sally
forth with a fury and velocity superior even to
the strength of man. They make the boldest
fly, and the only remedy is to lie down and
cover our heads with hay, for it is only at the
head they aim their blows; nor is there any
possibility of finishing that part of the work
until, by means of fire and brimstone, they are
all silenced. But though I have been obliged
to execute this dreadful sentence in my own de
fence, I have often thought it a great pity, for
the sake of a little hay, to lay waste so ingen
ious a subterranean town, furnished with every
conveniency, and built with a most surprising
mechanism. I never should have done were I to recount
the many objects which involuntarily strike my
imagination in the midst of my work, and spon
taneously afford me the most pleasing relief.
These appear insignificant trifles to a person
who has travelled through Europe and
America, and is acquainted with books and
with many sciences; but such simple objects of

46 SITUATION, &c. OF AN
of "contemplation suffice me, who have no time
to bestow on more extensive observations*
Happily these require no study, they are ob
vious, they gild the moments I dedicate to
them, and enliven the severe labours which I
perform. At home my happiness springs from
very different objects; the gradual unfolding
of my children's reason, the study of their
dawning tempers attract all my paternal atten
tion. I have to contrive little punishments for
their little faults, small encouragements for
their good actions, and a variety of other ex
pedients dictated by various occasions. But
these are themes unworthy your perusal, and
which ought not to be carried beyond the walls
of my house, being domestic mysteries adapted
only to the locality of the small sanctuary
wherein my family resides. Sometimes I de
light in inventing and executing machines,
which simplify my wife's labour. I have been
tolerably successful that way; and these, Sir,
are the narrow circles within which I constantly
revolve, and what can I wish for beyond them?
I bless God for all the good he has given me;
I envy no man's prosperity, and with no other
portion of happiness that that I may live to
teach the same philosophy to my children ; and
give each of them a farm, shew them how to
cultivate it, and be like their father, good sub
stantial

AMERICAN FARMER. 47
stantial independent American farmers — an
appellation which will be the most fortunate
one, a man of my class can possess, so long as
our civil government continues to shed bless
ings on our husbandry. Adieu.

48 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
LETTER III.
WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
I WISH I could be acquainted with the feel
ings and thoughts which must agitate the
heart and present themselves to the mind
of an enlightened Englishman, when he first
lands on this continent. He must greatly re
joice that he lived at a time to see this fair
country discovered and settled; he must neces
sarily feel a share of national pride, when he
views the chain of settlements which embel
lishes these extended shores. When he says to
himself, this is the work of my countrymen,
who, when convulsed by factions, afflicted by a
variety of miseries and wants, restless and im
patient, took refuge here. They brought along
with them their national genius, to which they
principally owe what liberty they enjoy, and
what substance they possess. Here he sees the
industry of his native country displayed in a
new manner, and traces in their works the em-
brios of all the arts, sciences, and ingenuity
which flourish in Europe. Here he beholds
fair cities, substantial villages, extensive fields,
an immense country filled with decent houses, good

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 49
good roads, orchards, meadows, and bridges,
where an hundred years ago all was wild,
woody and uncultivated! What a train of
pleasing ideas this fair spectacle must suggest;
it is a prospect which must inspire a good cit
izen with the most heartfelt pleasure. The
difficulty consists in the manner of viewing so
extensive a scene. He is arrived on a new con
tinent; a modern society offers itself to his con
templation, different from what he had hitherto
seen. It is not composed, as in Europe, of
great lords who possess every thing, and of a
herd of people who have nothing. Here are
no aristocratical families, no courts, no kings,
no bishops, no ecclesiastical dominion, no in
visible power giving to a few a very visible
one; no great manufacturers employing thou
sands, no great refinements of luxury. The rich
and the poor are not so far removed from each
other as they are in Europe. Some few towns
excepted, we are all tillers of the earth, from
Nova Scotia to West Florida. We are a peo
ple of cultivators, scattered over an immense
territory, communicating with each other by
means of good roads and navigable rivers,
united by the silken bands of mild government,
all respecting the laws, without dreading their
power, because they are equitable. We are all
animated with the spirit of an industry which is
unfettered

50 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
unfettered and unrestrained, because, each per
son works for himself. If he travels through
our rural districts he views not the hostile
castle, and the haughty mansion, contrasted
with the clay-built hut and miserable cabbin,
where cattle and men help to keep each other
warm, and dwell in meanness, smoke, and in
digence^ A pleasing uniformity of decent com-
• petence appears throughout our habitations.
The meanest of our log-houses is a dry and
comfortable habitation. Lawyer or merchant
are the fairest titles our towns afford; that of-
a farmer is the only appellation of the rural in
habitants of our country. It must take some
time ere he can reconcile himself to our dictio
nary, which is but short in words of dignity,
and names of honour. There, on a Sunday, he
sees a congregation of respectable farmers and
their wives, all clad in neat homespun, well
mounted, or riding in their own humble wag
gons. There is not among them an esquire,
saving the unlettered magistrate. There he
sees a parson as simple as his flock, a farmer
who does not riot on the labour of others.
We have no princes, for whom we toil, starve,
and bleed: we are the most perfect society
now existing in the world. Here man is free
as he ought to be ; nor is this pleasing equality
so transitory as many others are. Many ages will

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 51
will not see the shores of our great lakes re
plenished with inland nations, nor the unknown
bounds of North America entirely peopled.
Who can tell how far it extends? Who can
tell the millions of men whom it will feed and
contain? for no European foot has as yet
travelled half the extent of this mighty conti
nent! The next wish of this traveller will be to
know whence came all these people? they are
a mixture of English, Scotch, Irish, French,
Dutch, Germans, and Swedes. From this pro
miscuous breed, that race now called Americans
have arisen. The eastern provinces must indeed
be excepted, as being the unmixed descendents
of Englishmen. I have heard many wish that
they had been more intermixed also : for my
part, I am no wisher, and think it much better
as it has happened. .They exhibit a most con
spicuous figure in this great and variegated
picture; they too enter for a great share in
the pleasing perspective displayed in these thir
teen provinces. I know it is fashionable to
reflect on them, but I respect them for what
they have done; for the accuracy and wisdom
with which they have settled their territory;
for the decency of their manners; for their
early love of letters; their ancient college, the
first in this hemisphere; for their industry; which

52 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
which to me who am but a farmer, is the cri
terion of everything. There never was a peo
ple, situated as they are, who with so ungrate
ful a soil have done more in so short a time.
Do you think that the monarchical ingredients
which are more prevalent in other govern
ments, have purged them from all foul stains?
Their histories assert the contrary.
- In this great American asylum, the poor of
Europe have by some means met together, and
in consequence of various causes; to what pur
pose should they ask one another what coun
trymen they are? Alas, two thirds of them
had no country. Can a wretch who wanders
about, who works and starves, whose life is a
continual scene of sore affliction or pinching
penury; can that man call England or any
other kingdom his country? A country that
had no bread for him, whose fields procured
him no harvest, who met with nothing but the
frowns of the rich, the severity of the laws,
with jails and punishments; who owned not a
single foot of the extensive surface of this
planet? No! urged by a variety of motives,
'here they came. Every thing has tended to
'regenerate them; new laws, a new mode of
living, a new social system; here they are be
come men: in Europe they were as so many
useless plants, wanting vegitative mould, and
refreshing

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 53
refreshing showers; they withered, and were
mowed down by want, hunger, and war; but
now by the power of transplantation, like all
other plants they have taken root and flour
ished! Formerly they were not numbered in
any civil lists of their country, except in those
of the poor; here they rank as citizens. By
what invisible power has this surprising meta
morphosis been performed? By that of the
laws and that of their industry. The laws, the
indulgent laws, protect them as they arrive,
stamping on them the symbol of adoption; they
receive ample rewards for their labours; these
accumulated rewards procure them lands ; those
lands confer on them the title of freemen, and
to that title every benefit is affixed which men
can possibly require. This is the great opera
tion daily performed by our laws. From
whence proceed these laws? From our gov
ernment. Whence the government? It is de
rived from the original genius and strong
desire of the people ratified and confirmed by
the crown. This is the great chain which links
us all, this is the picture which every province
exhibits, Nova Scotia excepted. There the
crown has done all ; either there were no people
who had genius, or it was not much attended
to : the consequence is, that the province is very
thinly inhabited indeed; the power of the crown in

54 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
in conjunction with the musketos has prevented
men from settling there. Yet some parts of
it flourished once, and it contained a mild
harmless set of people. But for the fault of
a few leaders, the whole were banished. The
greatest political error the crown ever com
mitted in America, was to cut off men from a
country which wanted nothing but men !
What attachment can a poor European emi
grant have for a country where he had no-'
thing? The knowledge of the language, the
love of a few kindred as poor as himself, were
the only cords that tied him: his country is
now that which gives him land, bread, pro
tection, and consequence : Ubi panis ibi patria,
is the motto of all emigrants. What then is
the American, this new man? He is either an
European, or the descendant of an European,
hence that strange mixture of blood, which
you will find in no other country. I could
point out to you a family whose grandfather
was an Englishman, whose wife was Dutch,
whose son married a French woman, and whose
present four sons have now four wives of dif
ferent nations. He is an American, who leav
ing behind him all his ancient prejudices and
manners, receives new ones from the new
mode of life he has embraced, the new go
vernment he obeys, and the new rank he holds. He

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 55
He becomes an American by being received
in the broad lap of our great Alma Mater.
Here individuals of all nations are melted into
a new race of men, whose labours and posteri
ty will one day cause great changes in the
world. Americans are the western pilgrims, s
who are carrying along with them that great
mass of arts, sciences, vigour, and industry
which began long since in the east; they will
finish the great circle. The Americans were
once scattered all over Europe; here they are
incorporated into one of the finest systems of
population which has ever appeared, and which
will hereafter become distinct by the power of
the different climates they inhabit. The Amer
ican ought therefore to love this country much
better than that wherein either he or his fore
fathers were born. Here the rewards of his in- •
dustry follow with equal steps the progress of •
his labour; his labour is founded on the basis ' /D
of nature, self-interest; can it want a stronger '
allurement? Wives and children, who before
in vain demanded of him a morsel of bread,
now, fat and frolicsome, gladly help their
father to clear those fields whence exuberant
crops are to arise to feed and to clothe them
all; without any part being claimed, either by
a despotic prince, a rich abbot, or a mighty
lord. Here religion demands but little of him ;
a small

5 6 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
a small voluntary salary to the minister, and
gratitude to God; can he refuse these? The
American is a new man, who acts upon new prin
ciples; he must therefore entertain new ideas,
and form new opinions. From involuntary
idleness, servile dependence, penury, and use
less labour, he has passed to toils of a very dif
ferent nature, rewarded by ample subsistence.
— This is an American.
British America is divided into many pro
vinces, forming a large association, scattered
along a coast 1500 miles extent and about 200
wide. This society I would fain examine, at
least such as it appears in the middle provinces;
if it does not afford that variety of tinges and
gradations which may be observed in Europe,
we have colours peculiar to ourselves. For
instance, it is natural to conceive that those who
live near the sea, must be very different from
those who live in the woods; the interme
diate space will afford a separate and distinct
class. Men are like plants; the goodness and fla
vour of the fruit proceeds from the peculiar
soil and exposition in which they grow. We
are nothing but what we derive from the air
we breathe, the climate we inhabit, the go
vernment we obey, the system of religion we
profess, and the nature of our employment. Here

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 57
Here you will find but few crimes; these have
acquired as yet no root among us. I wish I
were able to trace all my ideas; if my igno
rance prevents me from describing them pro
perly, I hope I shall be able to delineate a
few of the outlines, which are all I propose.
Those who live near the sea, feed more on
fish than on flesh, and often encounter that
boisterous element. This renders them more
bold and enterprising; this leads them to neg
lect the confined occupations of the land.
They see and converse with a variety of peo
ple; their intercourse with mankind becomes
extensive. The sea inspires them with a love
of traffic, a desire of transporting produce
from one place to another; and leads them
to a variety of resources which supply the
place of labour. Those who inhabit the mid
dle settlements, by far the most numerous,
must be very different; the simple cultivation
of the earth purifies them, but the indulgences
of the government, the soft remonstrances of
religion, the rank of independent freeholders,
must necessarily inspire them with sentiments,
very little known in Europe among people of
the same class. What do I say? Europe has
no such class of men; the early knowledge
they acquire, the early bargains they make,
give them a great degree of sagacity. As free men

58 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
men they will be litigious; pride and obstinacy
are often the cause of law suits; the nature of
our laws and governments may be another.
As citizens it is easy to imagine, that they will
carefully read the newspapers, enter into every
political disquisition, freely blame or censure
governors and others. As farmers they will
be earful and anxious to get as much as they
can, because what they get is their own. As
northern men they will love the chearful cup.
As Christians, religion curbs them not in their
opinions; the general indulgence leaves every
one to think for themselves in spiritual matters ;
the laws inspect our actions, our thoughts are
left to God. Industry, good living, selfishness,
litigiousness, country politics, the pride of free
men, religious indifference, are their charac
teristics. If you recede still farther from the
sea, you will come into more modern settle
ments ; they exhibit the same strong lineaments,
in a ruder appearance. Religion seems to have
still less influence, and their manners are less
improved. Now we arrive near the great woods, near
the last inhabited districts; there men seem to
be placed still farther beyond the reach of
' government, which in some measure leaves
them to themselves. How can it pervade every
corner; as they were driven there by misfor tunes,

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 59
tunes, necessity of beginnings, desire of acquir
ing large tracks of land, idleness, frequent
want of ceconomy, ancient debts; the re-union
of such people does not afford a very pleasing
spectacle. When discord, want of unity and
friendship ; when either drunkenness or idleness
prevail in such remote districts; contention,
inactivity, and wretchedness must ensue. There
are not the same remedies to these evils as in a
long established community. The few magis
trates they have, are in general little better than
the rest; they are often in a perfect state of
war; that of man against man, sometimes de
cided by blows, sometimes by means of the
law ; that of man against every wild inhabitant
of these venerable woods, of which they are
come to dispossess them. There men appear to
be no beter than carnivorous animals of a
superior rank, living on the flesh of wild ani
mals when they can catch them, and when they
are not able, they subsist on grain. He who
would wish to see America in its proper light,
and have a true idea of its feeble beginnings
and barbarous rudiments, must visit our ex
tended line of frontiers where the last settlers
dwell, and where he may see the first labours of
settlement, the mode of clearing the earth, in
all their different appearances; where men are
wholly left dependent on their native tempers, and

60 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
and on the spur of uncertain industry, which
often fails when not sanctified by the efficacy of
a few moral rules. There, remote from the
power of example, and check of shame, many
families exhibit the most hideous parts of our
society. They are a kind of forlorn hope, pre
ceding by ten or twelve years the most respect
able army of veterans which come after them.
In that space, prosperity will polish some, vice
and the law will drive off the rest, who uniting
again with others like themselves will recede
still farther ; making room for more industrious
people, who will finish their improvements,
convert the loghouse into a convenient habi
tation, and rejoicing that the first heavy la
bours are finished, will change in a few years
that hitherto barbarous country into a fine fer
tile, well regulated district^ Such is our pro
gress, such is the march of the Europeans
toward the interior parts of this continent.
In all societies there are off-casts; this impure
part serves as our precursors or pioneers; my
father himself was one of that class, but he
came upon honest principles, and was there
fore one of the few who held fast; by good
conduct and temperance, he transmitted to me
his fair inheritance, when not above one in
fourteen of his contemporaries had the same
good fortune. Forty

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 61
Forty years ago this smiling country was
thus inhabited; it is now purged, a general
decency of manners prevails throughout, and
such has been the fate of our best countries.
Exclusive of those general characteristics,
each province has its own, founded on the go
vernment, climate, mode of husbandry, cus
toms, and peculiarity of circumstances. Eu
ropeans submit insensibly to these great
powers, and become, in the course of a few
generations, not only Americans in general,
but either Pensylvanians, Virginians, or provin
cials under some other name. Whoever tra
verses the continent must easily observe those
strong differences, which will grow more evi
dent in time. The inhabitants of Canada,
Massachuset, the middle provinces, the south
ern ones will be as different as their climates;
their only points of unity will be those of re
ligion and language.
As I have endeavoured to shew you how
Europeans become Americans; it may not be
disagreeable to shew you likewise how the
various Christian sects introduced, wear out,
and how religious indifference becomes preva
lent. When any considerable number of a
particular sect happen to dwell contiguous to
each other, they immediately erect a temple,
and there worship the Divinity agreeably to
their

62 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
their own peculiar ideas. Nobody disturbs
them. If any new sect springs up in Europe,
it may happen that many of its professors will
come and settle in America. As they bring
their zeal with them, they are at liberty to
make proselytes if they can, and to build a
meeting and to follow the dictates of their
consciences; for neither the government nor
any other power interferes. If they are peace
able subjects, and are industrious, what is it
to their neighbours how and in what manner
they think fit to address their prayers to the
Supreme Being? But if the sectaries are not
settled close together, if they are mixed with
other denominations, their zeal will cool for
want of fuel, and will be extinguished in a lit
tle time. Then the Americans become as to
religion, what they are as to country, allied
to all. In them the name of Englishman,
Frenchman, and European is lost, and in like
manner, the strict modes of Christianity as
practised in Europe are lost also. This effect
will extend itself still farther hereafter, and
though this may appear to you as a strange
idea, yet it is a very true one. I shall be able
perhaps hereafter to explain myself better, in
the meanwhile, let the following example serve
as my first justification.
Let us suppose you and I to be travelling; we

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 63
we observe that in this house, to the right, lives
a Catholic, who prays to God as he has been
taught, and believes in transubstantion ; he
works and raises wheat, he has a large family
of children, all hale and robust; his belief, his
prayers offend nobody. About one mile far
ther on the same road, his next neighbour may
be a good honest plodding German Lutheran,
who addresses himself to the same God, the
God of all, agreeably to the modes he has been
educated in, and believes in consubstantiation ;
by so doing he scandalizes nobody; he also'
works in his fields, embellishes the earth, clears
swamps, &c. What has the world to do
with his Lutheran principles? He persecutes
nobody, and nobody persecutes him, he
visits his neighbours, and his neighbours visit
him. Next to him lives a seceder, the most
enthusiastic of all sectaries; his zeal is hot and
fiery, but separated as he is from others of the
same complexion, he has no congregation of
his own to resort to, where he might cabal and
mingle religious pride with worldly obstinacy.
He likewise raises good crops, his house is
handsomely painted, his orchard is one of the
fairest in the neighbourhood. How does it
concern the welfare of the country, or of the
province at large, what this man's religious
sentiments are, or really whether he has any at

64 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
at all? He is a good farmer, he is a sober,
peaceable, good citizen: William Penn him
self would not wish for more. This is the
visible character, the invisible one is only
guessed at, and is nobody's business. Next
again lives a Low Dutchman, who implicitly
believes the rules laid down by the synod of
Dort. He conceives no other idea of a clergy
man than that of an hired man; if he does his
work well he will pay him the stipulated sum;
if not he will dismiss him, and do without his
sermons, and let his church be shut up for
years. But notwithstanding this coarse idea,
you will find his house and farm to be the
neatest in all the country; and you will judge
by his waggon and fat horses, that he thinks
more of the affairs of this world than of those
of the next. He is sober and laborious, there
fore he is all he ought to be as to the affairs of
this life; as for those of the next, he must trust
to the great Creator. Each of these people in
struct their children as well as they can, but
these instructions are feeble compared to those
which are given to the youth of the poorest
class in Europe. Their children will therefore
grow up less zealous and more indifferent in
matters of religion than their parents. The
foolish vanity, or rather the fury of making
Proselytes, is unknown here ; they have no timer the

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 65
the seasons call for all their attention, and thus
in a few years, this mixed neighbourhood will
exhibit a strange religious medley, that will be
neither pure Catholicism nor pure Calvinism.
A very perceptible indifference even in the first
generation, will become apparent; and it may
happen that the daughter of the Catholic will
marry the son of the seceder, and settle by
themselves at a distance from their parents.
What religious education will they give their
children? A very imperfect one. If there
happens to be in the neighbourhood any place
of worship, we will suppose a Quaker's meet
ing; rather than not shew their fine clothes,
they will go to it, and some of them may per
haps attach themselves to that society. Others
will remain in a perfect state of indifference;
the children of these zealous parents will not be
able to tell what their religious principles are,
and their grandchildren still less. The neigh
bourhood of a place of worship generally leads
them to it, and the action of going thither, is
the strongest evidence they can give of their at
tachment to any sect. The Quakers are the
only people who retain a fondness for their
own mode of worship; for be they ever so far
separated from each other, they hold a sort of
communion with the society, and seldom de
part from its rules, at least in this country. Thus

66 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
Thus all sects are mixed as well as all nations;
thus religious indifference is imperceptibly dis
seminated from one end of the continent to the
other; which is at present one of the strongest
characteristics of the Americans. Where this
will reach no one can tell, perhaps it may leave
a vacuum fit to receive other systems. Persecu
tion, religious pride, the love of contradiction,
are the food of what the world commonly calls
religion. These motives have ceased here : zeal
in Europe is confined; here it evaporates in
the great distance it has to travel; there it is
a grain of powder inclosed, here it burns away
in the open air, and consumes without effect.
But to return to our back settlers. I must
tell you, that there is something in the prox
imity of the woods, which is very singular. It
is with men as it is with the plants and animals
that grow and live in the forests; they are en
tirely different from those that live in the plains.
I will candidly tell you all my thoughts but you
are not to expect that I shall advance any rea
sons. By living in or near the woods, their
actions are regulated by the wildness of the
neighbourhood. The deer often come to eat
their grain, the wolves to destroy their sheep,
the bears to kill their hogs, the foxes to catch
their poultry. This surrounding hostility, im
mediately puts the gun into their hands; they
watch

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 67
watch these animals, they kill some; and thus
by defending their property, they soon become
professed hunters; this is the progress; once .
hunters, farewell to the plough. The chase
renders them ferocious, gloomy, and unso-*1
ciable ; a hunter wants no neighbour, he rather
hates them, because he dreads the competition^
In a little time their success in the woods makes \
them neglect their tillage. They trust to the
natural fecundity of the earth, and therefore do
little; carelessness in fencing, often exposes
what little they sow to destruction; they are
not at home to watch; in order therefore to
make up the deficiency, they go oftener to the
woods. That new mode of life brings along
with it a new set of manners, which I cannot
easily describe. These new manners being
grafted on the old stock, produce a strange
sort of lawless profligacy, the impressions of
which are indelible. The manners of the In
dian natives are respectable, compared with this
European medley. Their wives and children
live in sloth and inactivity; and having no
proper pursuits, you may judge what education
the latter receive. Their tender minds have
nothing else to contemplate but the example
of their parents; like them they grow up a
mongrel breed, half civilized, half savage, ex
cept nature stamps on them some constitutional propensities.

68 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
propensities. That rich, that voluptuous senti
ment is gone that struck them so forcibly; the
possession of their freeholds no longer conveys
to their minds the same pleasure and pride. To
all these reasons you must add, their lonely
situation, and you cannot imagine what an effect
on manners the great distances they live from
each other has ! Consider one of the last set
tlements in it's first view: of what is it com
posed? Europeans who have not that sufficient
share of knowledge they ought to have, in
order to prosper; people who have suddenly
passed from oppression, dread of government,
and fear of laws, into the unlimited freedom
ojLth.e_woods. This sudden change must have
a very great effect on most men, and on that
class particularly. Eating of wild meat, whatj
ever you may think, tends to alter their temper:
though all the proof I can adduce, is, that I
have seen it: and having no place of worship
to resort to, what little society this might afford,
is denied them. The Sunday meetings, exclu
sive of religious benefits, were the only social
bonds that might have inspired them with some
degree of emulation in neatness. Is it then
surprising to see men thus situated, immersed
in great and heavy labours, degenerate a little?
It is rather a wonder the effect is not more
diffusive. The Moravians and the Quakers " are

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 69
_are the only instances in exception to what
I have advanced. The first never settle singly,
it is a colony of the society which emigrates;
they carry with them their forms, worship,
rules, and decency: the others never begin so
hard, they are always able to buy improve
ments, in which there is a great advantage, for
by that time the country is recovered from its
first barbarity. rThus our bad people are those
who are half cultivators and half hunters; and
the worst of them are those who have degen
erated altogether into the hunting state. As
old ploughmen and new men of the woods, as
Europeans and new made Indians, they con
tract the vices of both ; they adopt the morose-
ness and ferocity of a native, without his mild
ness, or even his industry at home.j If manners
are not refined, at least they are rendered sim
ple and inoffensive by tilling the earth ; all our
wants are supplied by it, our time is divided
between labour and rest, and leaves none for
the commission of great misdeeds. As hunters it
is divided between the toil of the chase, the idle
ness of repose, or the indulgence of inebriation.
Hunting is but a licentious idle life, and if it
does not always pervert good dispositions ; yet,
when it is united with bad luck, it leads to want :
want stimulates that propensity to rapacity and
injustice, too natural to needy men, which is
the

70 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
the fatal gradation. After this explanation of
the effects which follow by living in the woods,
shall we yet vainly flatter ourselves with the
hope of converting the Indians? We should
rather begin with converting our back-settlers;
and now if I dare mention the name of reli
gion, its sweet accents would be lost in the
immensity of these woods. Men thus placed,
are not fit either to receive or remember its
mild instructions ; they want temples and minis
ters, but as soon as men cease to remain at
home, and begin to lead an erratic life, let
them be either tawny or white, they cease to
be its disciples.
Thus have I faintly and imperfectly endeav-
voured to trace our society from the sea to
our woods ! yet you must not imagine that every
person who moves back, acts upon the same
principles, or falls into the same degeneracy.
Many families carry with them all their de
cency of conduct, purity of morals, and respect
of religion; but these are scarce, the power of
example is sometimes irresistible. Even among
these back-settlers, their depravity is greater
or less, according to what nation or province
they belong. Were I to adduce proofs of this,
I might be accused of partiality. If there
happens to be some rich intervals, some fertile
bottoms, in those remote districts, the people will

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 71
will there prefer tilling the land to hunting, and
will attach themselves to it; but even on these
fertile spots you may plainly perceive the inhabi
tants to acquire a great degree of rusticity and
selfishness. It is in consequence of this straggling situa
tion, and the astonishing power it has on man
ners, that the back-settlers of both the Caro
linas, Virginia, and many other parts, have
been long a set of lawless people; it has been
even dangerous to travel among them. Gov
ernment can do nothing in so extensive a
country, better it should wink at these irregu
larities, than that it should use means incon
sistent with its usual mildness. Time will ef
face those stains: in proportion as the great
body of population approaches them they will
reform, and become polished and subordinate.
Whatever has been said of the four New-
England provinces, no such degeneracy of man
ners has ever tarnished their annals; their
back-settlers have been kept within the bounds
of decency, and government, by means of
wise laws, and by the influence of religion.
What a detestable idea such people must have
given to the natives of the Europeans! They
trade with them, the worst of people are per
mitted to do that which none but persons of the
best characters should be employed in. They get

72 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
get drunk with them, and often defraud the
Indians. Their avarice, removed from the eyes
of their superiors, knows no bounds; and aided
by a little superiority of knowledge, these
traders deceive them, and even sometimes shed
'blood. Hence those shocking violations, those
sudden devastations which have so often
stained our frontiers, when hundreds of inno
cent people have been sacrificed for the crimes
of a few. It was in consequence of such be
haviour, that the Indians took the hatchet
against the Virginians in 1774. Thus are our
first steps trod, thus are our first trees felled, in
general, by the most vicious of our people; and
thus the path is opened for the arrival of a sec
ond and better class, the true American free
holders; the most respectable set of people in
this part of the world : respectable for their in
dustry, their happy independence, the great
share of freedom they possess, the good regula
tion of their families, and for extending the
trade and the dominion of our mother country.
Europe contains hardly any other distinc
tions but lords and tenants; this fair country
alone is settled by freeholders, the possessors of
the soil they cultivate, members of the govern
ment they obey, and the framers of their own
laws, by means of their representatives. This
is a thought which you have taught me to
cherish

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 73
cherish; our difference from Europe, far from
diminishing, rather adds to our usefulness and
consequence as men and subjects. Had our
forefathers remained there, they would only
have crouded it, and perhaps prolonged those
convulsions which had shook it so long. Every
industrious European who transports himself
here, may be compared to a sprout growing
at the foot of a great tree ; it enjoys and draws
but a little portion of sap; wrench it from the
parent roots, transplant it, and it will become
a tree bearing fruit also. Colonists are there
fore entitled to the consideration due to the
most useful subjects; a hundred families barely
existing in some parts of Scotland, will here in
six years, cause an annual exportation of
10,000 bushels of wheat: 100 bushels being but
a common quantity for an industrious family to
sell, if they cultivate good land. It is here then
that the idle may be employed, the useless be
come useful, and the poor become rich ; but by
riches I do not mean gold and silver, we have
but little of those metals ; I mean a better sort
of wealth, cleared lands, cattle, good houses,
good cloaths, and an increase of people to enjoy
them. There is no wonder that this country has
so many charms, and presents to Europeans so
many temptations to remain in it. A traveller in

74 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
in Europe becomes a stranger as soon as he
quits his own kingdom ; but it is otherwise here.
We know, properly speaking, no strangers;
this is every person's country ; the variety of our
soils, situations, climates, governments, and
produce, hath something which must please
every body. No sooner does an European ar
rive, no matter of what condition, than his eyes
are opened upon the fair prospect; he hears his
language spoke, he retraces many of his own
country manners, he perpetually hears the
names of families and. towns with which he is
acquainted; he sees happiness and prosperity
in all places disseminated; he meets with hos
pitality, kindness, and plenty every where; he
beholds hardly any poor, he seldom hears of
punishments and executions ; and he wonders at
the elegance of our towns, those miracles of
industry and freedom. He cannot admire
enough our rural districts, our convenient
roads, good taverns, and our many accommoda
tions; he involuntarily loves a country where
every thing is so lovely. When in England,
he was a mere Englishman; here he stands
on a larger portion of the globe, not less than
its fourth part, and may see the productions
of the north, in iron and naval stores ; the pro
visions of Ireland, the grain of Egypt, the
indigo, the rice of China. He does not find, as in

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 75
in Europe, a crouded society, where every place
is over-stocked ; he does not feel that perpetual
collision of parties, that difficulty of beginning,
that contention which oversets so many. There
is room for every body in America ; has he any
particular talent, or industry? he exerts it in
order to procure a livelihood, and it succeeds.
Is he a merchant? the avenues of trade are
infinite; is he eminent in any respect? he will
be employed and respected. Does he love a
country life? pleasant farms present them
selves; he may purchase what he wants, and
thereby become an American farmer. Is he a
labourer, sober and industrious? he need not
go many miles, nor receive many informations
before he will be hired, well fed at the table of
his employer, and paid four or five times more
than he can get in Europe. Does he want un
cultivated lands? thousands of acres present
themselves, which he may purchase cheap.
Whatever be his talents or inclinations, if they
are moderate, he may satisfy them. I do not
mean that every one who comes will grow rich
in a little time.; no, but he may procure an easy,
decent maintenance, by his industry. Instead
of starving he will be fed, instead of being idle
he will have employment; and these are riches
enough for such men as come over here. The
rich stay in Europe, it is only the middling and the

76 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
the poor that emigrate. Would you wish to
travel in independent idleness, from north to
south, you will find easy access, and the most
chearful reception at every house ; society with
out ostentation, good cheer without pride, and
every decent diversion which the country af
fords, with little expence. It is no wonder
that the European who has lived here a few
years, is desirous to remain; Europe with all
its pomp, is not to be compared to this conti
nent, for men of middle stations, or labourers.
An European, when he first arrives, seems
limited in his intentions, as well as in his views;
but he very suddenly alters his scale ; two hun
dred miles formerly appeared a very great dis
tance, it is now but a trifle; he no sooner
breathes our air than he forms schemes, and
embarks in designs he never would have
thought of in his own country. There the
plenitude of society confines many useful ideas,
and often extinguishes the most laudable
schemes which here ripen into maturity.,. Thus.
Europeans become Americans.
But how is this accomplished in that croud
of low, indigent people, who flock here every
year from all parts of Europe? I will tell you;
they no sooner arrive than they immediately
feel the good effects of that plenty of provisions
we possess : they fare on our best food, and the

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 77
are kindly entertained; their talents, charac
ter, and peculiar industry are immediately in
quired into ; they find countrymen every where
disseminated, let them come from whatever
part of Europe. Let me select one as an epi
tome of the rest; he is hired, he goes to work,
and works moderately; instead of being em
ployed by a haughty person, he finds himself
with his equal, placed at the substantial table of
the farmer, or else at an inferior one as good;
his wages are high, his bed is not like that bed
of sorrow on which he used to lie: if he be
haves with propriety, and is faithful, he is
caressed, and becomes as it were a member of
the family. He begins to feel the effects of a
sort of resurrection; hitherto he had not lived,
but simply vegetated; he now feels himself a
man, because he is treated as such; the laws of
his own country had overlooked him in his in
significancy; the laws of this cover him with
their mantle. Judge what an alteration there
must arise in the mind and thoughts of this
man; he begins to forget his former servitude
and dependence, his heart involuntarily swells
and glows; this first swell inspires him with
those new thoughts which constitute an Ameri
can. What love can he entertain for a country
where his existence was a burthen to him; if he
is a generous good man, the love of this new
adoptive

78 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
adoptive parent will sink deep into his heart.
He looks around, and sees many a prosperous
person, who but a few years before was as poor
as himself. This encourages him much, he
begins to form some little scheme, the first,
alas, he ever formed in his life. If he is wise
he thus spends two or three years, in which
time he acquires knowledge, the use of tools,
the modes of working the lands, felling trees,
&c. This prepares the foundation of a good
name, the most useful acquisition he can make.
He is encouraged, he has gained friends; he
is advised and directed, he feels bold, he pur
chases some land; he gives all the money he
has brought over, as well as what he has
earned, and trusts to the God of harvests for
the discharge of the rest. His good name pro
cures him credit. He is now possessed of the
deed, conveying to him and his posterity the fee
simple and absolute property of two hun
dred acres of land, situated on such a river.
What an epocha in this man's life! He is be
come a freeholder, from perhaps a German
boor — he is now an American, a Pennsyl-
vanian, an English subject. He is naturalized,
his name is enrolled with those of the other
citizens of the province. Instead of being a
vagrant, he has a place of residence; he is
called the inhabitant of such a county, or of
such

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 79
such a district, and for the first time in his life
counts for something ; for hitherto he has been
a cypher. I only repeat what I have heard
many say, and no wonder their hearts should
glow, and be agitated with a multitude of feel
ings, not easy to describe. From nothing to
start into being ; from a servant to the rank of
a master; from being the slave of some despotic
prince, to become a free man, invested with
lands, to which every municipal blessing is an
nexed! What a change indeed! It is in con
sequence of that change that he becomes an
American. This great metamorphosis has a
double effect, it extinguishes all his European
prejudices, he forgets that mechanism of sub
ordination, that servility of disposition which
poverty had taught him; and sometimes he is
apt to forget too much, often passing from one
extreme to the other. If he is a good man, he
forms schemes of future prosperity, he proposes
to educate his children better than he has been
educated himself; he thinks of future modes
of conduct, feels an ardor to labour he never
felt before. Pride steps in and leads him to
every thing that the laws do not forbid: he
respects them; with a heart-felt gratitude he
looks toward the east, toward that insular
government from whose wisdom all his new
felicity is derived, and under whose wings and
protection

80 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
protection he now lives. These reflections con
stitute him the good man and the good subject.
Ye poor Europeans, ye, who sweat, and work
for the great — ye, who are obliged to give so
many sheaves to the church, so many to your
lords, so many to your government, and have
hardly any left for yourselves — ye, who are
held in less estimation than favourite hunters or
useless lap-dogs — ye, who only breathe the air
of nature, because it cannot be withheld from
you; it is here that ye can conceive the pos
sibility of those feelings I have been describing;
it is here the laws of naturalization invite every
one to partake of our great labours and fe-
, licity, to till unrented, untaxed lands \J Many,
corrupted beyond the power of amendment,
have brought with them all their vices, and
disregarding the advantages held to them, have
gone on in their former career of iniquity, until
they have been overtaken and punished by our
laws. It is not every emigrant who succeeds;
no, it is only the sober, the honest, and in
dustrious: happy those to whom this transi
tion has served as a powerful spur to labour,
to prosperity, and to the good establishment of
children, born in the days of their poverty;
and who had no other portion to expect but the
rags of their parents, had it not been for their
happy emigration. Others again, have been led

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 81
led astray by this enchanting scene; their new
pride, instead of leading them to the fields, has
kept them in idleness; the idea of possessing
lands is all that satisfies them — though sur
rounded with fertility, they have mouldered
away their time in inactivity, misinformed hus
bandry, and ineffectual endeavours. How much
wiser, in general, the honest Germans than
almost all other Europeans; they hire them
selves to some of their wealthy landsmen, and
in that apprenticeship learn every thing that
is necessary. They attentively consider the
prosperous industry of others, which imprints
in their minds a strong desire of possessing the
same advantages. This forcible idea never
quits them, they launch forth, and by dint of
sobriety, rigid parsimony, and the most perse
vering industry, they commonly succeed. Their
astonishment at their first arrival from Ger
many is very great — it is to them a dream ; the
contrast must be powerful indeed; they ob
serve their countrymen flourishing in every
place ; they travel through whole counties where
not a word of English is spoken; and in the
names and the language of the people, they
retrace Germany. They have been an useful
acquisition to this continent, and to Pennsyl
vania in particular; to them it owes some share
of its prosperity : to their mechanical knowledge and

82 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
and patience, it owes the finest mills in all
America, the best teams of horses, and many
other advantages. The recollection of their
former poverty and slavery never quits them
as long as they live.
The Scotch and the Irish might have lived in
their own country perhaps as poor, but enjoy
ing more civil advantages, the effects of their
new situation do not strike them so forcibly,
nor has it so lasting an effect. From whence
the difference arises I know not, but out of
twelve families of emigrants of each country,
generally seven Scotch will succeed, nine Ger
man, and four Irish. The Scotch are frugal
and laborious, but their wives cannot work so
hard as German women, who on the contrary
vie with their husbands, and often share with
them the most severe toils of the field, which
they understand better. They have therefore
nothing to struggle against, but the common
casualties of nature. The Irish do not prosper
so well; they love to drink and to quarrel; they
are litigious, and soon take to the gun, which is
the ruin of every thing; they seem beside to la
bour under a greater degree of ignorance in
husbandry than the others; perhaps it is that
their industry had less scope, and was less ex
ercised at home. I have heard many relate,
how the land was parcelled out in that king
dom;

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 83
dom; their ancient conquest has been a great
detriment to them, by over-setting their landed
property. The lands possessed by a few, are
leased down ad infinitum, and the occupiers
often pay five guineas an acre. The poor are
worse lodged there than any where else in
Europe ; their potatoes, which are easily raised,
are perhaps an inducement to laziness: their
wages are too low and their whisky too cheap.
There is no tracing observations of this kind,
without making at the same time very great
allowances, as there are every where to be
found, a great many exceptions. The Irish
themselves, from different parts of that king
dom, are very different. It is difficult to ac
count for this surprising locality, one would
think on so small an island an Irishman must
be an Irishman: yet it is not so, they are dif
ferent in their aptitude to, and in their love
of labour.
The Scotch on the contrary are all industri
ous and saving; they want nothing more than
a field to exert themselves in, and they are com
monly sure of succeeding. The only difficulty
they labour under is, that technical Ameri
can knowledge which requires some time to
obtain; it is not easy for those who seldom saw
a tree, to conceive how it is to be felled, cut
up, and split into rails and posts. As

84 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
As I am fond of seeing and talking of pros
perous families, I intend to finish this letter
by relating to you the history of an honest
Scotch Hebridean, who came here in 1774,
which will shew you in epitome, what the
Scotch can do, wherever they have room for
the exertion of their industry. Whenever I
hear of any new settlement, I pay it a visit once
or twice a year, on purpose to observe the dif
ferent steps each settler takes, the gradual
improvements, the different tempers of each
family, on which their prosperity in a great
nature depends; their different modifications
of industry, their ingenuity, and contrivance;
for being all poor, their life requires sagacity
and prudence. In an evening I love to hear
them tell their stories, they furnish me with
new ideas; I sit still and listen to their an
cient misfortunes, observing in many of them
a strong degree of gratitude to God, and the
government. Many a well meant sermon have
I preached to some of them. When I found
laziness and inattention to prevail, who could
refrain from wishing well to these new country
men ; after having undergone so many fatigues.
Who could withhold good advice? What a
happy change it must be, to descend from the
high, sterile, bleak lands of Scotland, where
every thing is barren and cold, to rest on
some

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 85
some fertile farms in these middle provinces!
Such a transition must have afforded the most
pleasing satisfaction.
The following dialogue passed at an out-
settlement, where I lately paid a visit :
Well, friend, how do you do now; I am
come fifty odd miles on purpose to see you;
how do you go on with your new cutting and
slashing? Very well, good Sir, we learn the
use of the axe bravely, we shall make it out;
we have a belly full of victuals every day, our
cows run about, and come home full of milk,
our hogs get fat of themselves in the woods:
Oh, this is a good country ! God bless the king,
and William Penn; we shall do very well by
and by, if we keep our healths. Your log-
house looks neat and light, where did you get
these shingles? One of our neighbours is a
New-England man, and he shewed us how to
split them out of chestnut-trees. Now for a
barn, but all in good time, here are fine trees
to build with. Who is to frame it, sure you
don't understand that work yet? A country
man of ours who has been in America these
ten years, offers to wait for his money until
the second crop is lodged in it. What did you
give for your land? Thirty-five shillings per
acre, payable in seven years. How many acres
have you got? An hundred and fifty. That is
enough

86 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
enough to begin with; is not your land pretty
hard to clear? Yes, Sir, hard enough,, but it
would be harder still if it was ready cleared,
for then we should have no timber, and I love
the woods much; the land is nothing without
them. Have not you found out any bees yet?
No, Sir; and if we had we should not know
what to do with them. I will tell you by and
by. You are very kind. Farewell, honest man,
God prosper you ; whenever you travel toward
**, enquire for J. S. he will entertain you
kindly, provided you bring him good tidings
from your family and farm. In this manner I
often visit them, and carefully examine their
houses, their modes of ingenuity, their different
ways ; and make them all relate all they know,
and describe all they feel. These are scenes
which I believe you would willingly share with
me. I well remember your philanthropic turn
of mind. Is it not better to contemplate under
these humble roofs, the rudiments of future
wealth and population, than to behold the ac
cumulated bundles of litigious papers in the
office of a lawyer? To examine how the world
is gradually settled, how the howling swamp is
converted into a pleasing meadow, the rough
ridge into a fine field; and to hear the chear-
ful whistling, the rural song, where there was
no sound heard before, save the yell of the sav
age,

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 87
age, the screech of the owl, or the hissing of
the snake? Here an European, fatigued with
luxury, riches, and pleasures, may find a sweet
relaxation in a series of interesting scenes, as af
fecting as they are new. England, which now
contains so many domes, so many castles, was
once like this; a place woody and marshy; its
inhabitants, now the favourite nation for arts
and commerce, were once painted like our
neighbours. The country will flourish in its
turn, and the same observations will be made
which I have just delineated. Posterity will
look back with avidity and pleasure, to trace,
if possible, the sra of this or that particular
settlement. Pray, what is the reason that the Scots
are in general more religious, more faithful,
more honest, and industrious than the Irish?
I do not mean to insinuate national reflections,
God forbid! It ill becomes any man, and
much less an American; but as I know men
are nothing of themselves, and that they owe
all their different modifications either to gov
ernment or other local circumstances, there
must be some powerful causes which constitute
this great national difference.
Agreeable to the account which severale
Scotchmen have given me of the north of
Britain, of the Orkneys, and the Hebride Islands,

88 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
Islands, they seem, on many accounts, to be
unfit for the habitation of men; they appear
to be calculated only for great sheep pastures.
Who then can blame the inhabitants of these
countries for transporting themselves hither?
This great continent must in time absorb the
poorest part of Europe; and this will happen
in proportion as it becomes better known;
and as war, taxation, oppression, and misery
increase there. The Hebrides appear to be
fit only for the residence of malefactors, and it
would be much better to send felons there than
either to Virginia or Maryland. What a
strange compliment has our mother country
paid to two of the finest provinces in America!
England has entertained in that respect very
mistaken ideas ; what was intended as a punish
ment, is become the good fortune of several;
many of those who have been transported as
felons, are now rich, and strangers to the
stings of those wants that urged them to vio
lations of the law: they are become industri
ous, exemplary, and useful citizens. The
English government should purchase the most
northern and barren of those islands; it should
send over to us the honest, primitive Hebri-
deans, settle them here on good lands, as a
reward for their virtue and ancient poverty;
and replace them with a colony of her wicked sons.

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 89
sons. The severity of the climate, the inclem
ency of the seasons, the sterility of the soil,
the tempestuousness of the sea, would afflict and
punish enough. Could there be found a spot
better adapted to retaliate the injury it had
received by their crimes? Some of those
islands might be considered as the hell of Great
Britian, where all evil spirits should be sent.
Two essential ends would be answered by this
simple operation. The good people, by emi
gration, would be rendered happier; the bad
ones would be placed where they ought to be.
In a few years the dread of being sent to that
wintry region would have a much stronger
effect, than that of transportation. — This is
no place of punishment; were I a poor hope
less, breadless Englishman, and not restrained
by the power of shame, I should be very thank
ful for the passage. It is of very little impor
tance how, and in what manner an indigent man
arrives; for if he is but sober, honest, and in
dustrious, he has nothing more to ask of
heaven. Let him go to work, he will have op
portunities enough to earn a comfortable sup
port, and even the means of procuring some
land; which ought to be the utmost wish of
every person who has health and hands to work.
I knew a man who came to this country, in
the literal sense of the expression, stark naked;
I think

90 WHAT IS AN AMERICAN.
I think he was a Frenchman, and a sailor on
board an English man of war. Being discon
tented, he had stripped himself and swam
ashore; where finding clothes and friends, he
settled afterwards at Maraneck, in the county
of Chester, in the province of New-York ;Jie
married and left a good farm to each of his
sons. I knew another person who was but
twelve years old when he was taken on the
frontiers of Canada, by the Indians; at his ar
rival at Albany he was purchased by a gentle
man, who generously bound him apprentice to
a taylor. He lived to the age of ninety, and
left behind him a fine estate and a numerous
family, all well settled; many of them I am ac
quainted with. — Where is then the industrious
European who ought to despair?
After a foreigner from any part of Europe is
arrived, and become a citizen ; let him devoutly
listen to the voice of our great parent, which
says to him, "Welcome to my shores, dis-
"tressed European; bless the hour in which
" thou didst see my verdant fields, my fair
"navigable rivers, and my green mountains!
" • — If thou wilt work, I have bread for thee;
"if thou wilt be honest, sober, and jndlis-
" trious, I have greater rewards to confer on
" thee — ease and independence. I will give
"thee fields to feed and cloath thee; a com-
" fortable

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN. 91
" fortable fire-side to sit by, and tell thy chil-
" dren by what means thou hast prospered;
" and a decent bed to repose on. I shall en-
" dow thee beside with the immunities of a
" freeman. If thou wilt carefully educate thy
" children, teach them gratitude to God, and
" reverence to that government, that phi-
" lanthropic government, which has collected
" here so many men and made them happy.
" I will also provide for thy progeny; and
" to every good man this ought to be the most
" holy, the most powerful, the most earnest
" wish he can possibly form, as well as the
" most consolatory prospect when he dies.
" Go thou and work and till ; thou shalt pros-
" per, provided thou be just, grateful and
" industrious."

HISTORY OF ANDREW, THE HEBRIDEAN.
LET historians give the detail of our
charters, the succession of our several gover
nors, and of their administrations; of our
political struggles, and of the foundation of
our towns: let annalists amuse themselves
with collecting anecdotes of the establishment
of our modern provinces: eagles soar high —
I, a feebler bird, chearfully content myself with

92 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
with skipping from bush to bush, and living
on insignificant insects. I am so habituated
to draw all my food and pleasure from the sur
face of the earth which I till, that I cannot,
nor indeed am I able to quit it — I therefore
present you with the short history of a simple
Scotchman; though it contain not a single
remarkable event to amaze the reader; no tra
gical scene to convulse the heart, or pathetic
narrative to draw tears from sympathetic eyes.
All I wish to delineate is, the progressive steps
of a poor man, advancing from indigence to
ease; from oppression to freedom; from ob
scurity and contumely to some degree of con
sequence — not by virtue of any freaks of for
tune, but by the gradual operation of sobriety,
honesty, and emigration. These are the lim
ited fields, through which I love to wander;
sure to find in some parts, the smile of new-born
happiness, the glad heart, inspiring the chear-
ful song, the glow of manly pride excited by
vivid hopes and rising independence. I always
return from my neighbourly excursions ex
tremely happy, because there I see good living
almost under every roof, and prosperous en
deavours almost in every field. But you may
say, why don't you describe some of the more
ancient, opulent settlements of our country,
where even the eye of an European has some-. thing

THE HEBRIDEAN. 93
thing to admire ? It is true, our American fields
are in general pleasing to behold, adorned and
intermixed as they are with so many substantial
houses, flourishing orchards and copses of
woodlands; the pride of our farms, the source
of every good we possess. But what I might
observe there is but natural and common ; for to
draw comfortable subsistence from well fenced
cultivated fields, is easy to conceive. A father
dies and leaves a decent house and rich farm to
his son; the son modernizes the one, and care
fully tills the other; marries the daughter of a
friend and neighbour : this is the common pros
pect ; but though it is rich and pleasant, yet it is
far from being so entertaining and instructive
as the one now in my view.
I had rather attend on the shore to welcome
the poor European when he arrives, I observe
him in his first moments of embarrassment,
trace him throughout his primary difficulties,
follow him step by step, until he pitches his
tent on some piece of land, and realizes that
energetic wish which has made him quit his
native land, his kindred, and induced him to
traverse a boisterous ocean. It is there I want
to observe his first thoughts and feelings, the
first essays of an industry, which hitherto has
been suppressed. I wish to see men cut down
the first trees, erect their new buildings, till
their

94 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
their first fields, reap their first crops, and say
for the first time in their lives, " This is our
" own grain, raised from American soil — on
"it we shall feed and grow fat, and convert
" the rest into gold and silver." I want to
see how the happy effects of their sobriety,
honesty, and industry are first displayed: and
who would not take a pleasure in seeing these
strangers settling as new countrymen, strug
gling with arduous difficulties, overcoming
them, and becoming happy.
Landing on this great continent is like going
to sea, they must have a compass, some friendly
directing needle; or else they will uselessly
err and wander for a long time, even with a
fair wind: yet these are the struggles through
which our forefathers have waded; and they
have left u.s no other records of them, but the
possession of our farms. The reflections I
make on these new settlers recall to my mind
what my grandfather did in his days; they
fill me with gratitude to his memory as well
as to that government, which invited him to
come, and helped him when he arrived, as well
as many others. Can I pass over these reflec
tions without remembering thy name, O Penn 1
thou best of legislators; who by the wisdom of
thy laws hast endowed human nature, within
the bounds of thy province, with every dignity it

THE HEBRIDEAN. 95
it can possibly enjoy in a civilized state; and
shewed by thy singular establishment, what all
men might be if they would follow thy
example !
In the year 1770, I purchased some lands
in the county of  , which I intended for
one of my sons; and was obliged to go there in
order to see them properly surveyed and
marked out: the soil is good, but the country
has a very wild aspect. However I observed
with pleasure, that land sells very fast; and I
am in hopes when the lad gets a wife, it will be
a well-settled decent country. Agreeable to our
customs, which indeed are those of nature, it
is our duty to provide for our eldest children
while we live, in order that our homesteads
may be left to the youngest, who are the most
helpless. Some people are apt to regard the
portions given to daughters as so much lost to
the family; but this is selfish, and is not agree
able to my way of thinking; they cannot work
as men do; they marry young: I have given
an honest European a farm to till for himself,
rent free, provided he clears an acre of swamp
every year, and that he quits it whenever my
daughter shall marry. It will procure her a
substantial husband, a good farmer — and that
is all my ambition.
Whilst I was in the woods I met with a party of

96 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
of Indians; I shook hands with them, and I per
ceived they had killed a cub; I had a little
Peack brandy, they perceived it also, we there
fore joined company, kindled a large fire, and
ate an hearty supper. I made their hearts glad,
and we all reposed on good beds of leaves.
Soon after dark, I was surprised to hear a pro
digious hooting through the woods ; the Indians
laughed heartily. One of them, more skillful
than the rest, mimicked the owls so exactly,
that a very large one perched on a high tree
over our fire. We soon brought him down; he
measured five feet seven inches from one ex
tremity of the wings to the other. By Cap
tain  I have sent you the talons, on which
I have had the heads of small candlesticks fixed.
Pray keep them on the table of your study
for my sake.
Contrary to my expectation, I found myself
under the necessity of going to Philadelphia,
in order to pay the purchase money, and to
have the deeds properly recorded. I thought
little of the journey, though it was above two
hundred miles, because I was well acquainted
with many friends, at whose houses I intended
to stop. The third night after I left the woods,
I put up at Mr.  's, the most worthy citi
zen I know ; he happened to lodge at my house
when you was there. — He kindly enquired after

THE HEBRIDEAN. 97
after your welfare, and desired I would make
a friendly mention of him to you. The neatness
of these good people is no phoenomenon, yet I
think this excellent family surpasses every thing
I know. No sooner did I lie down to rest than
I thought myself in a most odoriferous arbour,
so sweet and fragrant were the sheets. Next
morning I found my host in the orchard des
troying caterpillars. I think, friend B. said I,
that thee art greatly departed from the good
rules of the society; thee seemeth to have
quitted that happy simplicity for which it hath
hitherto been so remarkable. Thy rebuke,
friend James, is a pretty heavy one; what mo
tive canst thee have for thus accusing us ? Thy
kind wife made a mistake last evening, I said;
she put me on a bed of roses, instead of a com
mon one ; I am not used to such delicacies. And
is that all, friend James, that thee hast to re
proach us with? — Thee wilt not call it luxury
I hope ? thee canst but know that it is the pro
duce of our garden; and friend Pope sayeth,
that " to enjoy is to obey." This is a most
learned excuse indeed, friend B. and must be
valued because it is founded upon truth. James,
my wife hath done nothing more to thy bed
than what is done all the year round to all the
beds in the family ; she sprinkles her linen with
rose-water before she puts it under the press; it

98 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
it is her fancy, and I have nought to say.
But thee shalt not escape so, verily I will send
for her; thee and she must settle the matter,
whilst I proceed on my work, before the sun
gets too high. — Tom, go thou and call thy
mistress Philadelphia. What, said I, is thy
wife called by that name? I did not know
that before. I'll tell thee, James, how it came
to pass: her grandmother was the first female
child born after William Penn landed with the
rest of our brethren; and in compliment to
the city he intended to build, she was called
after the name he intended to give it; and so
there is always one of the daughters of her
family known by the name of Philadelphia.
She soon came, and after a most friendly alter
cation, I gave up the point; breakfasted, de
parted, and in four days reached the city.
A week after news came that a vessel was
arrived with Scotch emigrants. Mr. C. and I
went to the dock to see them disembark. It
was a scene which inspired me with a variety
of thoughts: here are, said I to my friend, a
number of people, driven by poverty, and other
adverse causes, to a foreign land, in which they
know nobody. The name of a stranger, instead
of implying relief, assistance, and kindness, on
the contrary, conveys very different ideas. They
are now distressed; their minds are racked by
a variety

THE HEBRIDEAN. 99
a variety of apprehensions, fears and hopes. It
was this last powerful sentiment which has
brought them here. If they are good people,
I pray that heaven may realise them. Who
ever were to see them thus gathered again in
five or six years, would behold a more pleasing
sight, to which this would serve as a very pow
erful contrast. By their honesty, the vigour of
their arms, and the benignity of government,
their condition will be greatly improved; they
will be well clad, fat, possessed of that manly
confidence which property confers; they will
become useful citizens. Some of the posterity
may act conspicuous parts in our future Ameri
can transactions. Most of them appeared pale
and emaciated, from the length of the passage,
and the indifferent provision on which they had
lived. The number of children seemed as
great as that of the people; they had all paid
for being conveyed here. The captain told us
they were a quiet, peaceable, and harmless peo
ple, who had never dwelt in cities. This was
a valuable cargo ; they seemed, a few excepted,
to be in the full vigour of their lives. Several
citizens, impelled either by spontaneous attach
ments, or motives of humanity, took many of
them to their houses; the city, agreeable to its
usual wisdom and humanity, ordered them all
to be lodged in the barracks, and plenty of pro
visions

ioo HISTORY OF ANDREW,
visions to be given them. My friend pitched
upon one also and led him to his house, with
his wife, and a son about fourteen years of age.
The majority of them had contracted for land
the year before, by means of an agent; the rest
depended entirely upon chance; and the one
who followed us was of this last class. Poor
man, he smiled on receiving the invitation, and
gladly accepted it, bidding his wife and son do
the same, in a language which I did not under
stand. He gazed with uninterrupted attention
on every thing he saw; the houses, the inhabi
tants, the negroes, and carriages: every thing
appeared equally new to him; and we went
slow, in order to give him time to feed
on this pleasing variety. Good God!
said he, is this Philadelphia, that blessed
city of bread and provisions, of which
we have heard so much? I am told it was
founded the same year in which my father was
born; why it is finer than Greenock and Glas
gow, which are ten times as old. It is so, said
my friend to him, and when thee hast been here
a month, thee will soon see that it is the capital
of a fine province, of which thee art going to be
a citizen: Greenock enjoys neither such a cli
mate nor such a soil. Thus we slowly pro
ceeded along, when we met several large Lan
caster six-horse waggons, just arrived from the
country

THE HEBRIDEAN. 101
country. At this stupendous sight he stopped
short, and with great diffidence asked us what
was the use of these great moving houses, and
where those big horses came from ? Have you
none such at home, I asked him ? Oh, no ; these
huge animals would eat all the grass of our
island ! We at last reached my friend's house,
who in the glow of well-meant hospitality,
made them all three sit down to a good din
ner, and gave them as much cyder as they could
drink. God bless this country, and the good
people it contains, said he ; this is the best meal's
victuals I have made a long time. — I thank you
kindly. What part of Scotland dost thee come from,
friend Andrew, said Mr. C. ? Some of us come
from the main, some from the island of Barra,
he answered — I myself am a Barra man. I
looked on the map, and by its latitude, easily
guessed that it must be an inhospitable climate.
What sort of land have you got there, I asked
him? Bad enough, said he; we have no such
trees as I see here, no wheat, no kyne, no apples.
Then, I observed, that it must be hard for the
poor to live. We have no poor, he answered,
we are all alike, except our laird; but he can
not help every body. Pray what is the name of
your laird? Mr. Neiel, said Andrew; the like
of him is not to be found in any of the isles ; his
forefathers

102 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
forefathers have lived there thirty generations
ago, as we are told. Now, gentlemen, you
may judge what an ancient family estate it
must be. But it is cold, the land is thin, and
there were too many of us, which are the rea
sons that some are come to seek their fortunes
here. Well, Andrew, what step do you intend
to take in order to become rich ? I do not know,
Sir; I am but an ignorant man, a stranger be
sides — I must rely on the advice of good Chris
tians, they would not deceive me, I am sure.
I have brought with me a character from our
Barra minister, can it do me any good here?
Oh, yes; but your future success will depend
entirely on your own conduct; if you are a
sober man, as the certificate says, laborious, and
honest, there is no fear but that you will do
well. Have you brought any money with you,
Andrew ? Yes, Sir, eleven guineas and an half.
Upon my word it is a considerable sum for
a Barra man; how came you by so much
money? Why seven years ago I received a
legacy of thirty-seven pounds from an uncle,
who loved me much ; my wife brought me two
guineas, when the laird gave her to me for a
wife, which I have saved ever since. I have
sold all I had; I worked in Glasgow for some
time. I am glad to hear you are so saving and
prudent; be so still; you must go and hire your self

THE HEBRIDEAN. 103
self with some good people ; what can you do ?
I can thresh a little, and handle the spade. Can
you plough? Yes, Sir, with the little breast
plough I have brought with me. These won't
do here, Andrew ; you are an able man ; if you
are willing you will soon learn. I'll tell you
what I intend to do ; I'll send you to my house,
where you shall stay two or three weeks, there
you must exercise yourself with the axe, that
is the principal tool the Americans want, and
particularly the back-settlers. Can your wife
spin ? Yes, she can. Well then as soon as you
are able to handle the axe, you shall go and live
with Mr. P. R. a particular friend of mine,
who will give you four dollars per month, for
the first six, and the usual price of five as long
as you remain with him. I shall place your
wife in another house, where she shall receive
half a dollar a week for spinning; and your son
a dollar a month to drive the team. You shall
have besides good victuals to eat, and good beds
to lie on; will all this satisfy you, Andrew? He
hardly understood what I said; the honest tears
of gratitude fell from his eyes as he looked at
me, and its expressions seemed to quiver on his
lips. — Though silent, this was saying a great
deal; there was besides something extremely
moving to see a man six feet high, thus shed
tears ; and they did not lessen the good opinion I had

io4 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
I had entertained of him. At last he told me,
that my offers were more than he deserved, and
that he would first begin to work for his vic
tuals. No, no, said I, if you are careful and
sober, and do what you can, you shall receive
what I told you, after you have served a short
apprenticeship at my house. May God repay
you for all your kindnesses, said Andrew; as
long as I live I shall thank you, and do what I
can for you. A few days after I sent them all
three to  , by the return of some waggons,
that he might have an opportunity of viewing,
and convincing himself of the utility of those
machines which he had at first so much
admired. The further descriptions he gave us of the
Hebrides in general, and of his native island in
particular; of the customs and modes of living
of the inhabitants; greatly entertained me.
Pray is the sterility of the soil the cause that
there are no trees, or is it because there are
none planted? What are the modern families
of all the kings of the earth, compared to the
date of that of Mr. Neiel? Admitting that
each generation should last but forty years, this
makes a period of 1200; an extraordinary dura
tion for the uninterrupted descent of any fam
ily! Agreeably to the description he gave us
of those countries, they seem to live according to

THE HEBRIDEAN. 105
to the rules of nature, which gives them but
bare subsistence; their constitutions are uncon-
taminated by any excess or effeminacy, which
their soil refuses. If their allowance of food is
not too scanty, they must all be healthy by per
petual temperance and exercise; if so, they are
amply rewarded for their poverty. Could they
have obtained but necessary food, they would
not have left it; for it was not in consequence of
oppression, either from their patriarch or the
government, that they had emigrated. I wish
we had a colony of these honest people settled
in some parts of this province; their morals,
their religion, seem to be as simple as their
manners. This society would present an inter
esting spectacle could they be transported on a
richer soil. But perhaps that soil would soon
alter every thing ; for our opinions, vices and
virtues, are altogether local: we are machines
fashioned by every circumstance around us.
Andrew arrived at my house a week before
I did, and I found my wife, agreeble to my in
structions, had placed the axe in his hands, as
his first task. For some time he was very auk-
ward, but he was so docile, so willing, and
grateful, as well as his wife, that I foresaw he
would succeed. Agreeably to my promise, I put
them all with different families, where they
were well liked, and all parties were pleased.
Andrew

106 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
Andrew worked hard, lived well, grew fat, and
every Sunday came to pay me a visit on a good
horse, which Mr. P. R. lent him. Poor man,
it took him a long time ere he could sit on the
saddle and hold the bridle properly. I believe
he had never before mounted such a beast,
though I did not choose to ask him that ques
tion, for fear it might suggest some mortifying
ideas. After having been twelve months at
Mr. P. R.'s, and having received his own and
his family's wages, which amounted to eighty-
four dollars; he came to see me on a week day,
and told me, that he was a man of middle age,
and would willingly have land of his own, in
order to procure him a home, as a shelter
against old age : that whenever this period
should come, his son, to whom he would give
his land, would then maintain him, and thus live
all together; he therefore required my advice
and assistance. I thought his desire very
natural and praise-worthy, and told him that I
should think of it, but that he must remain one
month longer with Mr. P. R., who had 3000
rails to split. He immediately consented. The
spring was not far advanced enough yet for
Andrew to begin clearing any land even sup
posing that he had made a purchase; as it is
always necessary that the leaves should be out,
in order that this additional combustible may
serve

THE HEBRIDEAN. 107
serve to burn the heaps of brush more
readily. A few days after, it happened that the whole
family of Mr. P. R. went to meeting, and left
Andrew to take care of the house. While he
was at the door, attentively reading the Bible,
nine Indians just come from the mountains,
suddenly made their appearance, and unloaded
their packs of furrs on the floor of the piazza.
Conceive, if you can, what was Andrew's con
sternation at this extraordinary sight! From
the singular appearance of these people, the
honest Hebridean took them for a lawless band
come to rob his master's house. He therefore,
like a faithful guardian, precipitately withdrew,
and shut the doors, but as most of our houses
are without locks, he was reduced to the neces
sity of fixing his knife over the latch, and then
flew up stairs in quest of a broad sword he had
brought from Scotland. The Indians, who
were Mr. P. R.'s particular friends, guessed at
his suspicions and fears; they forcibly lifted
the door, and suddenly took possession of the
house, got all the bread and meat they wanted,
and sat themselves down by the fire. At this
instant Andrew, with his broad sword in his
hand, entered the room; the Indians earnestly
looking at him, and attentively watching his
motions. After a very few reflections, Andrew found

108 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
found that his weapon was useless, when op
posed to nine tomahawks; but this did not
diminish his anger, on the contrary; it grew
greater on observing the calm impudence with
which they were devouring the family pro
visions. Unable to resist, he called them names
in broad Scotch, and ordered them to desist
and be gone ; to which the Indians (as they told
me afterwards) replied in their equally broad
idiom. It must have been a most unintelligible
altercation between this honest Barra man, and
nine Indians who did not much care for any
thing he could say. At last he ventured to lay
his hands on one of them, in order to turn him
out of the house. Here Andrew's fidelity got
the better of his prudence; for the Indian, by
his motions, threatened to scalp him, while the
rest gave the war hoop. This horrid noise so
effectually frightened poor Andrew, that, un
mindful of his courage, of his broad sword, and
his intentions, he rushed out, left them masters
of the house, and disappeared. I have heard
one of the Indians say since, that he never
laughed so heartily in his life. Andrew at a
distance, soon recovered from the fears which
had been inspired by this infernal yell, and
thought of no other remedy than to go to the
meeting-house, which was about two miles dis
tant. In the eagerness of his honest intentions, with

THE HEBRIDEAN. 109
with looks of affright still marked on his coun
tenance, he called Mr. P. R. out, and told him
with great vehemence of style, that nine mon
sters were come to his house — some blue, some
red, and some black; that they had little axes
in their hands out of which they smoked; and
that like highlanders, they had no breeches;
that they were devouring all his victuals, and
that God only knew what they would do more.
Pacify yourself, said Mr. P. R. my house is as
safe with these people, as if I was there myself;
as for the victuals, they are heartily welcome,
honest Andrew; they are not people of much
ceremony; they help themselves thus whenever
they are among their friends; I do so too in
their wigwhams, whenever I go to their vil
lage : you had better therefore step in and hear
the remainder of the sermon, and when the
meeting is over we will all go back in the wag
gon together.
At their return, Mr. P. R. who speaks the
Indian language very well, explained the whole
matter; the Indians renewed their laugh, and
shook hands with honest Andrew, whom they
made to smoke out of their pipes ; and thus
peace was made, and ratified according to the
Indian custom, by the calumet.
Soon after this adventure, the time ap
proached when I had promised Andrew my
best

no HISTORY OF ANDREW,
best assistance to settle him; for that purpose
I went to Mr. A. V. in the county of  ,
who, I was informed, had purchased a track of
land, contiguous to  settlement. I gave
him a faithful detail of the progress Andrew
had made in the rural arts; of his honesty, so
briety, and gratitude, and pressed him to sell
him an hundred acres. This I cannot comply
with, said Mr. A. V., but at the same time I
will do better ; I love to encourage honest Euro
peans as much as you do, and to see them pros
per : you tell me he has but one son ; I will lease
them an hundred acres for any term of years
you please, and make it more valuable to your
Scotchman than if he was possessed of the fee
simple. By that means he may, with what
little money he has, buy a plough, a team, and
some stock; he will not be incumbered with
debts and mortgages ; what he raises will be his
own ; had he two or three sons as able as him
self, then I should think it more eligible for
him to purchase the fee simple. I join with
you in opinion, and will bring Andrew along
with me in a few days.
Well, honest Andrew, said Mr. A. V. in
consideration of your good name, I will let you
have an hundred acres of good arable land,
that shall be laid out along a new road; there
is a bridge already erected on the creek that
passes

THE HEBRIDEAN. in
passes through the land, and a fine swamp of
about twenty acres. These are my terms, I can
not sell, but I will lease you the quantity that
Mr. James, your friend, has asked; the first
seven years you shall pay no rent, whatever you
sow and reap, and plant and gather, shall be
entirely your own; neither the king, govern
ment, nor church, will have any claim on your
future property: the remaining part of the
time you must give me twelve dollars and an
half a year ; and that is all you will have to pay
me. Within the three first years you must
plant fifty apple trees, and clear seven acres of
swamp within the first part of the lease; it will
be your own advantage : whatever you do more
within that time, I will pay you for it, at the
common rate of the country. The term of the
lease shall be thirty years; how do you like it,
Andrew? Oh, Sir, it is very good, but I am
afraid, that the king or his ministers, or the
governor, or some of our great men, will come
and take the land from me; your son may say
to me, by and by, this is my father's land, An
drew, you must quit it. No, no, said Mr. A. V.
there is no such danger; the king and his min
isters are too just to take the labour of a poor
settler; here we have no great men, but what
are subordinate to our laws; but to calm all
your fears, I will give you a lease, so that none can

112 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
can make you afraid. If ever you are dis
satisfied with the land, a jury of your own
neighbourhood shall value all your improve
ments, and you shall be paid agreeably to their
verdict. You may sell the lease, or if you die,
you may previously dispose of it, as if the land
was your own. Expressive, yet inarticulate joy,
was mixed in his countenance, which seemed
impressed with astonishment and confusion. Do
you understand me well, said Mr. A. V? No,
Sir, replied Andrew, 1 know nothing of what
you mean about lease, improvement, will, jury,
&c. That is honest, we will explain these
things to you by and by. It must be confessed
that those were hard words, which he had never
heard in his life; for by his own account, the
ideas they convey would be totally useless in
the island of Barra. No wonder, therefore
that he was embarrassed; for how could the
man who had hardly a will of his own since he
was born, imagine he could have one after his
death ? How could the person who never pos
sessed any thing, conceive that he could extend
his new dominion over this land, even after he
should be laid in his grave? For my part, I
think Andrew's amazement did not imply any
extraordinary degree of ignorance; he was an
actor introduced upon a new scene, it required
some time ere he could reconcile himself to the
part

THE HEBRIDEAN. 113
part he was to perform. However he was soon
enlightened, and introduced into those mys
teries with which we native Americans are but
too well acquainted.
Here then is honest Andrew, invested with
every municipal advantage they confer; become
a freeholder, possessed of a vote, of a place of
residence, a citizen of the province of Penn
sylvania. Andrew's original hopes and the dis
tant prospects he had formed in the island of
Barra, were at the eve of being realised; we
therefore can easily forgive him a few spon
taneous ejaculations, which would be useless to
repeat. This short tale is easily told; few
words are sufficient to describe this sudden
change of situation; but in his mind it was
gradual, and took him above a week before he
could be sure, that without disturbing any
money he could possess lands. Soon after he
prepared himself; I lent him a barrel of pork,
and 200 lb. weight of meal, and made him
purchase what was necessary besides.
He set out, and hired a room in the house
of a settler who lived the most contiguous to
his own land. His first work was to clear some
acres of swamp, that he might have a supply
of hay the following year for his two horses
and cows. From the first day he began to work,
he was indefatigable ; his honesty procured him
friends,

n4 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
friends, and his industry the esteem of his new
neighbours. One of them offered him two acres
of cleared land, whereon he might plant corn,
pumpkins, squashes, and a few potatoes, that
very season. It is astonishing how quick men
will learn when they work for themselves. I
saw with pleasure two months after, Andrew
holding a two horse-plough and tracing his fur
rows quite straight; thus the spade man of the
island of Barra was become the tiller of Ameri
can soil. Well done, said I, Andrew, well
done; I see that God speeds and directs your
works; I see prosperity delineated in all your
furrows and head lands. Raise this crop of
corn with attention and care, and then you will
be master of the art.
As he had neither mowing nor reaping to do
that year, I told him that the time was come to
build his house; and that for the purpose I
would myself invite the neighbourhood to a
frolick; that thus he would have a large dwel
ling erected, and some upland cleared in one
day. Mr. P. R. his old friend, came at the time
appointed, with all his hands, and brought
victuals in plenty : I did the same. About forty
people repaired to the spot; the songs, and
merry stories, went round the woods from
cluster to cluster, as the people had gathered to
their different works; trees fell on all sides,
bushes

THE HEBRIDEAN. 115
bushes were cut up and heaped ; and while many
were thus employed, others with their teams
hauled the big logs to the spot which Andrew
had pitched upon for the erection of his new
dwelling. We all dined in the woods; in the
afternoon the logs were placed with skids, and
the usijal contrivances : thus the rude house was
raised, and above two acres of land cut up,
cleared, and heaped.
Whilst all these different operations were
performing, Andrew was absolutely incapable
of working; it was to him the most solemn holi
day he had ever seen; it would have been
sacrilegious in him to have defiled it with
menial labour. Poor man, he sanctified it with
joy and thanksgiving, and honest libations — he
went from one to the other with the bottle in his
hand, pressing every body to drink, and drink
ing himself to shew the example. He spent the
whole day in smiling, laughing, and uttering
monosyllables : his wife and son were there also,
but as they could not understand the language,
their pleasure must have been altogether that of
the imagination. The powerful lord, the
wealthy merchant, on seeing the superb mansion
finished, never can feel half the joy and real
happiness which was felt and enjoyed on that
day by this honest Hebridean : though this new
dwelling, erected in the midst of the woods, was

116 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
was nothing more than a square inclosure, com
posed of twenty-four large clumsy logs, let in
at the ends. When the work was finished, the
company made the woods resound with the
noise of their three cheers, and the honest
wishes they formed for Andrew's prosperity.
He could say nothing,, but with thankful tears
he shook hands with them all. Thus from the
first day he had landed, Andrew marched
towards this important event: this memorable
day made the sun shine on that land on which
he was to sow wheat and other grain. What
swamp he had cleared lay before his door; the
essence of future bread, milk, and meat, were
scattered all round him. Soon after he hired a
carpenter, who put on a roof and laid the floors;
in a week more the house was properly plais-
tered, and the chimney finished. He moved
into it, and purchased two cows, which found
plenty of food in the woods — his hogs had the
same advantage. That very year, he and his
son sowed three bushels of wheat, from which
he reaped ninety-one and a half; for I had
ordered him to keep an exact account of all he
should raise. His first crop of other corn
would have been as good, had it not been for
the squirrels, which were enemies not to be dis
persed by the broad sword. The fourth year I
took an inventory of the wheat this man pos
sessed,

THE HEBRIDEAN. 117
sessed, which I send you. Soon after, further
settlements were made on that road, and An
drew, instead of being the last man towards the
wilderness, found himself in a few years in the
middle of a numerous society. He helped
others as generously as others had helped him ;
and I have dined many times at his table with
several of his neighbours. The second year he
was made overseer of the road, and served on
two petty juries, performing as a citizen all the
duties required of him. The historiographer
of some great prince or general, does not bring
his hero victorious to the end of a successful
campaign, with one half of the heart-felt pleas
ure, with which I have conducted Andrew to
the situation he now enjoys: he is independent
and easy. Triumph and military honours do
not always imply those two blessings. He is
unincumbered with debts, services, rents, or any
other dues; the successes of a campaign, the
laurels of war, must be purchased at the dearest
rate, which makes every cool reflecting citizen
to tremble and shudder. By the literal account
hereunto annexed, you will easily be made ac
quainted with the happy effects which con
stantly flow, in this country, from sobriety and
industry, when united with good land and free
dom. The account of the property he acquired with his

118 HISTORY OF ANDREW,
his own hands and those of his son, in four
years, is under : Dollars.
The value of his improvements and lease . 225
Six cows, at 13 dollars  78
Two breeding mares  50
The rest of the stock  100
Seventy-three bushels of wheat  66
Money due to him on notes  43
Pork and beef in his cellar  28
Wool and flax  19
Ploughs and other utensils of husbandry. 31
240I. Pennsylvania currency — dollars.. 640

LETTER

NANTUCKET. 119

LETTER IV.
DESCRIPTION OF THE ISLAND OF NANTUCKET,
WITH THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, POLICY,
AND TRADE OF THE INHABITANTS.
THE greatest compliment that can be
paid to the best of kings, to the wisest
ministers, or the most patriotic rulers,
is to think, that the reformation of political
abuses, and the happiness of their people are
the primary objects of their attention. But
alas! how disagreeable must the work of ref
ormation be; how dreaded the operation; for
we hear of no amendment : on the contrary, the
great number of European emigrants, yearly
coming over here, informs us, that the severity
of taxes, the injustice of laws, the tyranny of
the rich, and the oppressive avarice of the
church; are as intolerable as ever. Will these
calamities have no end? Are not the great
rulers of the earth afraid of losing, by degrees,
their most useful subjects ? This country, provi
dentially intended for the general asylum of
the world, will flourish by the oppression of
their people ; they will every day become better
acquainted

120 DESCRIPTION OF
acquainted with the happiness we enjoy, and
seek for the means of transporting themselves
here, in spite of all obstacles and laws. To
what purpose then have so many useful books
and divine maxims been transmitted to us from
preceding ages? — Are they all vain, all use
less ? Must human nature ever be the sport of
the few, and its many wounds remain unhealed ?
How happy are we here, in having fortunately
escaped the miseries which attended our
fathers ; how thankful ought we to be, that they
reared us in a land where sobriety and industry
never fail to meet with the most ample rewards !
You have, no doubt, read several histories of
this continent, yet there are a thousand facts, a
thousand explanations overlooked. Authors
will certainly convey to you a geographical
knowledge of this country; they will acquaint
you with the aeras of the several settlements, the
foundations of our towns, the spirit of our dif
ferent charters, &c. yet they do not sufficiently
disclose the genius of the people, their various
customs, their modes of agriculture, the in
numerable resources which the industrious have
of raising themselves to a comfortable and easy
situation. Few of these writers have resided
here, and those who have, had not pervaded
every part of the country, nor carefully ex
amined the nature and principles of our associa tion.

NANTUCKET. 121
tion. It would be a task worthy a speculative
genius, to enter intimately into the situation and
characters of the people, from Nova Scotia to
West Florida; and surely history cannot pos
sibly present any subject more pleasing to be
hold. Sensible how unable I am to lead you
through so vast a maze, let us look attentively
for some small unnoticed corner; but where
shall we go in quest of such an one? Number
less settlements, each distinguished by some pe
culiarities, present themselves on every side ; all
seem to realise the most sanguine wishes that a
good man could form for the happiness of his
race. Here they live by fishing on the most
plentiful coasts in the world; there they fell
trees, by the sides of large rivers, for masts and
lumber; here others convert innumerable logs
into the best boards; there again others culti
vate the land, rear cattle, and clear large fields.
Yet I have a spot in my view, where none of
these occupations are performed, which will, I
hope, reward us for the trouble of inspection;
but though it is barren in its soil, insignificant
in its extent, inconvenient in its situation, de
prived of materials for building; it seems to
have been inhabited merely to prove what man
kind can do when happily governed! Here I
can point out to you exertions of the most suc
cessful industry; instances of native sagacity un
assisted

122 DESCRIPTION OF
assisted by science ; the happy fruits of a well
directed perseverance. It is always a refreshing
spectacle to me, when in my review of the vari
ous component parts of this immense whole, I
observe the labours of its inhabitants singularly
rewarded by nature ; when I see them emerged
out of their first difficulties, living with decency
and ease, and conveying to their posterity that
plentiful subsistence, which their fathers have
so deservedly earned. But when their pros
perity arises from the goodness of the climate,
and fertility of the soil; I partake of their hap
piness, it is true ; yet stay but a little while with
them, as they exhibit nothing but what is
natural and common. On the contrary, when
I meet with barren spots fertilized, grass grow
ing where none grew before; grain gathered
from fields which had hitherto produced noth
ing better than brambles; dwellings raised
where no building materials were to be found;
wealth acquired by the most uncommon means:
there I pause, to dwell on the favourite object
of my speculative inquiries. Willingly do I
leave the former to enjoy the odoriferous fur
row, or their rich vallies, with anxiety repair
ing to the spot, where so many difficulties have
been overcome; where extraordinary exertions
have produced extraordinary effects, and where every

NANTUCKET. 123
every natural obstacle has been removed by a
vigorous industry.
I want not to record the annals of the island
of Nantucket — its inhabitants have no annals,
for they are not a race of warriors. My simple
wish is to trace them throughout their progres
sive steps, from their arrival here to this present
hour; to enquire by what means they have
raised themselves from the most humble, the
most insignificant beginnings, to the ease and
the wealth they now possess; and to give you
some idea of their customs, religion, manners,
policy, and mode of living.
This happy settlement was not founded on
intrusion, forcible entries, or blood, as so many
others have been ; it drew its origin from neces
sity on the one side, and from good will on the
other; and ever since, all has been a scene of
uninterrupted harmony. — Neither political, nor
religious broils; neither disputes with the na
tives, nor any other contentions, have in the
least agitated or disturbed its detached society.
Yet the first founders knew nothing either of
Lycurgus or Solon ; for this settlement has not
been the work of eminent men or powerful
legislators, forcing nature by the accumulated
labours of art. This singular establishment
has been effected by means of that native indus
try and perseverance common to all men, when they

124 DESCRIPTION OF
they are protected by a government which de
mands but little for its protection] when they
are permitted to enjoy a system of rational laws
founded on perfect freedom. The mildness
and humanity of such a government necessarily
implies that confidence which is the source of
the most arduous undertakings and permanent
success. Would you believe that a sandy spot,
of about twenty-three thousand acres, affording
neither stones nor timber, meadows nor arable,
yet can boast of an handsome town, consisting
of more than 500 houses, should possess above
200 sail of vessels, constantly employ upwards
of 2000 seamen, feed more than 15,000 sheep,
500 cows, 200 horses; and has several citizens
worth 20,oool. sterling! Yet all these facts
are uncontroverted. Who would have imagined
that any people should have abandoned a fruit
ful and extensive continent, filled with the riches
which the most ample vegetation affords; re
plete with good soil, enamelled meadows, rich
pastures, every kind of timber, and with all
other materials necessary to render life happy
and comfortable: to come and inhabit a little
sand-bank, to which nature had refused those
advantages; to dwell on a spot where there
scarcely grew a shrub to announce, by the bud
ding of its leaves, the arrival of the spring, and
to warn by their fall the proximity of winter. Had

NANTUCKET. 125
Had this island been contiguous to the shores
of some ancient monarchy, it would only have
been occupied by a few wretched fishermen,
who, oppressed by poverty, would hardly have
been able to purchase or build little fishing
barks ; always dreading the weight of taxes, or
the servitude of men of war. Instead of that
boldness of speculation for which the inhabi
tants of this island are so remarkable, they
would fearfully have confined themselves,
within the narrow limits of the most trifling
attempts; timid in their excursions, they never
could have extricated themselves from their first
difficulties. This island, on the contrary, con
tains 5000 hardy people, who boldly derive
their riches from the element that surrounds
them, and have been compelled by the sterility
of the soil to seek abroad for the means of sub
sistence. You must not imagine, from the re
cital of these facts, that they enjoyed any ex
clusive privileges or royal charters, or that they
were nursed by particular immunities in the in
fancy of their settlement. No, their freedom,
their skill, their probity, and perseverance, have
accomplished every thing, and brought them by
degrees to the rank they now hold.
From this first sketch, I hope that my par
tiality to this island will be justified. Perhaps
you hardly know that such an one exists in the
neighbourhood

126 DESCRIPTION OF
neighbourhood of Cape Cod. What has hap
pened here, has and will happen every where
else. Give mankind the full rewards of their
industry, allow them to enjoy the fruit of their
labour under the peaceable shade of their vines
and fig-trees, leave their native activity un
shackled and free, like a fair stream without
dams or other obstacles; the first will fertilize
the very sand on which they tread, the other
exhibit a navigable river, spreading plenty and
chearfulness wherever the declivity of the
ground leads it. If these people are not famous
for tracing the fragrant furrow on the plain,
they plough the rougher ocean, they gather
from its surface, at an immense distance, and
with Herculean labours, the riches it affords;
they go to hunt and catch that huge fish which
by its strength and velocity one would imagine
ought to be beyond the reach of man. This
island has nothing deserving of notice but its in
habitants; here you meet with neither ancient
monuments, spacious halls, solemn temples, nor
elegant dwellings; not a citadel, nor any kind
of fortification, not even a battery to rend the
air with its loud peals on any solemn occasion.
As for their rural improvements, they are many,
but all of the most simple and useful kind.
The island of Nantucketf lies in latitude 41 °
10'. 100 miles N. E. from Cape Cod; 27 N.
from

NANTUCKET. 127
from Hyanes or Barnstable, a town on the most
contiguous part of the great peninsula; 21
miles W. by N. from Cape Pog, on the vine
yard; 50 W. by N. from Wood's Hole, on
Elizabeth Island ; 80 miles N. from Boston ; 1 20
from Rhode Island; 800 S. from Bermudas.
Sherborn is the only town on the island, which
consists of about 530 houses, that have been
framed on the main ; they are lathed and plais-
tered within, handsomely painted and boarded
without; each has a cellar underneath, built
with stones fetched also from the main: they
are all of a similar construction and appear
ance; plain, and entirely devoid of exterior or
interior ornament. I observed but one which
was built of bricks, belonging to Mr.  , but
like the rest it is unadorned. The town stands
on a rising sand-bank, on the west side of the
harbour, which is very safe from all winds.
There are two places of worship, one for the
society of Friends, the other for that of Pres
byterians ; and in the middle of the town, near
the market-place, stands a simple building,
which is the county court-house. The town
regularly ascends toward the country, and in
its vicinage they have several small fields and
gardens yearly manured with the dung of their
cows, and the soil of their streets. There are a
good many cherry and peach trees planted in
their

128 DESCRIPTION OF
their streets and in many other places; the
apple tree does not thrive well, they have there
fore planted but few. The island contains no
mountains, yet is very uneven, and the many
rising grounds and eminences with which it is
filled, have formed in the several vallies a great
variety of swamps, where the Indian grass and
the blue bent, peculiar to such soils, grow with
tolerable luxuriancy. Some of the swamps
abound with peat, which serves the poor instead
of fire-wood. There are fourteen ponds on this
island, all extremely useful, some lying trans
versely, almost across it, which greatly helps to
divide it into partitions for the use of their
cattle ; others abound with peculiar fish and sea
fowls. Their streets are not paved, but this is
attended with little inconvenience, as it is never
crouded with country carriages ; and those they
have in the town are seldom made use of but
in the time of the coming in and before the
sailing of their fleets. At my first landing I
was much surprised at the disagreeable smell
which struck me in many parts of the town; it
is caused by the whale oil, and is unavoidable;
the neatness peculiar to these people can neither
remove or prevent it. There are near the
wharfs a great many storehouses, where their
staple commodity is deposited, as well as the
innumerable materials which are always wanted to

NANTUCKET. 129
to repair and fit out so many whalemen. They
have three docks, each three hundred feet long,
and extremely convenient; at the head of which
there are ten feet of water. These docks are
built like those in Boston, of logs fetched from
the continent, filled with stones, and covered
with sand. Between these docks and the town,
there is room sufficient for the landing of goods
and for the passage of their numerous carts;
for almost every man here has one : the wharfs
to the north and south of the docks, are built
of the same materials, and give a stranger, at
his first landing, an high idea of the prosperity
of these people ; and there is room around these
three docks for 300 sail of vessels. When their
fleets have been successful, the bustle and hurry
of business on this spot for some days after
their arrival, would make you imagine, that
Sherborn is the capital of a very opulent and
large province. On that point of land, which
forms the west side of the harbour, stands a
very neat light-house; the opposite peninsula,
called Coitou, secures it from the most danger
ous winds. There are but few gardens and
arable fields in the neighbourhood of the town,
for nothing can be more sterile and sandy than
this part of the island; they have however with
unwearied perseverance, by bringing a variety
of manure, and by cow-penning, enriched sev
eral

130 DESCRIPTION OF
eral spots where they raise Indian corn, pota
toes, pumpkins, turnips, &c. On the highest
part of this sandy eminence, four windmills
grind the grain they raise or import; and con
tiguous to them their rope walk is to be seen,
where full half of their cordage is manufac
tured. Between the shores of the harbour, the
docks, and the town, there is a most excellent
piece of meadow, inclosed and manured with
such cost and pains as shew how necessary and
precious grass is at Nantucket. Towards the
point of Shemah, the island is more level and
the soil better ; and there they have considerable
lots well fenced and richly manured, where they
diligently raise their yearly crops. There are
but very few farms on this island, because there
are but very few spota that will admit of culti
vation without the assistance of dung and other
manure; which is very expensive to fetch from
the main. This island was patented in the year
1 67 1, by twenty-seven proprietors, under the
province of New-York; which then claimed all
the islands from the Neway Sink to Cape Cod.
They found it so universally barren and so unfit
for cultivation, that they mutually agreed not
to divide it, as each could neither live on, nor
improve that lot which might fall to his share.
They then cast their eyes on the sea, and find
ing themselves obliged to become fishermen, they

NANTUCKET. 131
they looked for a harbour, and having found
one, they determined to built a town in its
neighbourhood and to dwell together. For that
purpose they surveyed as much ground as would
afford to each what is generally called here a
home-lot. Forty acres were thought sufficient
to answer this double purpose ; for to what end
should they covet more land than they could im
prove, or even inclose; not being possessed of
a single tree, in the whole extent of their new
dominion. This was all the territorial property
they allotted; the rest they agreed to hold in
common, and seeing that the scanty grass of
the island might feed sheep; they agreed that
each proprietor should be entitled to feed on it
if he pleased 560 sheep. By this agreement,
the national flock was to consist of 15,120; that
is the undivided part of the island was by such
means ideally divisible into as many parts or
shares; to which nevertheless no certain deter
minate quantity of land was affixed: for they
knew not how much the island contained, nor
could the most judicious surveyor fix this small
quota as to quality and quantity. Further they
agreed, in case the grass should grow better by
feeding, that then four sheep should represent
a cow, and two cows a horse : such was the
method this wise people took to enjoy in com
mon their new settlement ; such was the mode of
. , their

132 DESCRIPTION OF
their first establishment, which may be truly
and literally called a pastoral one. Several
hundred of sheep-pasture titles have since been
divided on those different tracks, which are now
cultivated; the rest by inheritance and inter
marriages have been so subdivided that it is
very common for a girl to have no other por
tion but her outset and four sheep pastures or
the privilege of feeding a cow. But as this
privilege is founded on an ideal, though real
title to some unknown piece of land, which one
day or another may be ascertained ; these sheep-
pasture titles should convey toyourimagination,
something more valuable and of greater credit
than the mere advantage arising from the
benefit of a cow, which in that case would be
no more than a right of commonage. Whereas,
here as labour grows cheaper, as misfortunes
from their sea adventures may happen; each
person possessed of a sufficient number of these
sheep-pasture titles, may one day realize them
on some peculiar spot, such as shall be adjudged
by the council of the proprietors to be adequate
to their value ; and this is the reason that these
people very unwillingly sell those small rights,
and esteem them more than you would imagine.
They are the representation of a future free
hold, they cherish in the mind of the possessor a
latent, though distant, hope, that by his success in

NANTUCKET. 133
in his next whale season, he may be able to pitch
on some predilected spot, and there build him
self a home, to which he may retire, and spend
the latter end of his days in peace. A council
of proprietors always exists in this island, who
decide their territorial differences; their titles
are recorded in the books of the county, which
this town represents, as well as every convey
ance of lands and other sales.
This island furnishes the naturalist with few
or no objects worthy observation: it appears to
be the uneven summit of a sandy submarine
mountain, covered here and there with sorrel,
grass, a few cedar bushes, and scrubby oaks;
their swamps are much more valuable for the
peat they contain, than for the trifling pasture
of their surface ; those declining grounds which
lead to the sea-shores abound with beach grass,
a light fodder when cut and cured, but very
good when fed green. On the east side of the
island they have several tracks of salt grasses,
which being carefully fenced, yield a consider
able quantity of that wholesome fodder.
Among the many ponds or lakes with which this
island abounds, there are some which have been
made by the intrusion of the sea, such as
Wiwidiah, the Long, the Narrow, and several
others; consequently those are salt and the
others fresh. The former answer two consid erable

134 DESCRIPTION OF
erable purposes, first by enabling them to fence
the island with greater facility ; at peculiar high
tides a great number of fish enter into them,
where they feed and grow large, and at some
known seasons of the year the inhabitants as
semble and cut down the small bars which the
waves always throw up. By these easy means
the waters of the pond are let out, and as the
fish follow their native element, the inhabitants
with proper nets catch as many as they want, in
their way out, without any other trouble. Those
which are most common, are the streaked bass,
the blue fish, the tom-cod, the mackerel, the
tew-tag, the herring, the flounder, eel, &c. Fish
ing is one of the greatest diversions the island
affords. At the west end lies the harbour of
Mardiket, formed by Smith Point on the south
west, by Eel Point on the north, and Tuckanut
Island on the north-west; but it is neither so
safe nor has it so good anchoring ground, as
that near which the town stands. Three small
creeks run into it, which yield the bitterest eels
I have ever tasted. Between the lotts of Pal
pus on the east, Barry's Valley and Miacomet
pond on the south, and the narrow pond on the
west, not far from Shemah Point, they have a
considerable track of even ground, being the
least sandy, and the best on the island. It is di
vided into seven fields, one of which is planted by

NANTUCKET. 135
by that part of the community which are en
titled to it. This is called the common planta
tion, a simple but useful expedient, for was
each holder of this track to fence his property,
it would require a prodigious quantity of posts
and rails, which you must remember are to be
purchased and fetched from the main. Instead
of those private subdivisions each man's allot
ment of land is thrown into the general field
which is fenced at the expence of the parties;
within it every one does with his own portion of
the ground whatever he pleases. This apparent
community saves a very material expence, a
great deal of labour, and perhaps raises a sort
of emulation among them, which urges every
one to fertilize his share with the greatest care
and attention. Thus every seven years the
whole of this track is under cultivation, and en
riched by manure and ploughing yields after
wards excellent pasture; to which the town
cows, amounting to 500 are daily led by the
town shepherd, and as regularly drove back in
the evening. There each animal easily finds
the house to which it belongs, where they are
sure to be well rewarded for the milk they give,
by a present of bran, grain, or some farinaceous
preparation; their oeconomy being very great
in that respect. These are commonly called
Tetoukemah lotts. You must not imagine that
every

136 DESCRIPTION OF
every person on the island is either a land
holder, or concerned in rural operations ; no, the
greater part are at sea ; busily employed in their
different fisheries; others are mere strangers,
who come to settle as handicrafts, mechanics,
&c. and even among the natives few are pos
sessed of determinate shares of land: for en
gaged in sea affairs, or trade, they are satisfied
with possessing a few sheep pastures, by means
of which they may have perhaps one or two
cows. Many have but one, for the great num
ber of children they have, has caused such sub
divisions of the original proprietorship as is
sometimes puzzling to trace ; and several of the
most fortunate at sea, have purchased and
realized a great number of these original pas
ture titles. The best land on the island is at
Palpus, remarkable for nothing but a house
of entertainment. Quayes is a small but
valuable track, long since purchased by Mr.
Coffin, where he has erected the best house on
the island. By long attention, proximity of the
sea, &c. this fertile spot has been well manured,
and is now the garden of Nantucket. Adjoin
ing to it on the west side there is a small stream,
on which they have erected a fulling mill; on
the east is the lott, known by the name of
Squam, watered likewise by a small rivulet, on
which stands another fulling mill. Here is fine
loamy

NANTUCKET. i37
loamy soil, producing excellent clover, which
is mowed twice a year. These mills prepare all
the cloth which is made here: you may easily
suppose that having so large a flock of sheep,
they abound in wool; part of this they export,
and the rest is spun by their industrious wives,
and converted into substantial garments. To
the south-east is a great division of the island,
fenced by itself, known by the name of Sias-
concet lott. It is a very uneven track of ground,
abounding with swamps ; here they turn in their
fat cattle, or such as they intend to stall-feed,
for their winter's provisions. It is on the shores
of this part of the island, near Pochick Rip,
where they catch their best fish, such as sea bass,
tew-tag, or black fish, cod, smelt, perch,
shadine, pike, &c. They have erected a few
fishing houses on this shore, as well as at San-
kate's Head, and Suffakatche Beach, where the
fishermen dwell in the fishing season. Many
red cedar bushes and beach grass grow on the
peninsula of Coitou ; the soil is light and sandy,
and serves as a receptacle for rabbits. It is here
that their sheep find shelter in the snow storms
of the winter. At the north end of Nantucket,
there is a long point of land, projecting far into
the sea, called Sandy Point; nothing grows on
it but plain grass; and this is the place from
whence they often catch porpoises and sharks, by

i38 DESCRIPTION OF
by a very ingenious method. On this point
they commonly drive their horses in the spring
of the year, in order to feed on the grass it
bears, which is useless when arrived at maturity.
Between that point and the main island they
have a valuable salt meadow, called Croskaty,
with a pond of the same name famous for
black ducks. Hence we must return to Squam,
which abounds in clover and herds grass; those
who possess it follow no maritime occupation,
and therefore neglect nothing that can render
it fertile and profitable. The rest of the un-
described part of the island is open, and serves
as a common pasture for their sheep. To the
west of the island is that of Tackanuck, where
in the spring their young cattle are driven to
feed; it has a few oak bushes and two fresh
water ponds, abounding with teals, brandts, and
many other sea fowls, brought to this island
by the proximity of their sand banks and shal
lows ; where thousands are seen feeding at low-
water. Here they have neither wolves nor
foxes ; those inhabitants therefore who live out
of town, raise with all security as much poultry
as they want; their turkeys are very large and
excellent. In summer this climate is extremely
pleasant; they are not exposed to the scorching
sun of the continent, the heats being tempered
by the sea breezes, with which they are per
petually

NANTUCKET. i39
petually refreshed. In the winter, however,
they pay severely for those advantages; it is
extremely cold ; the north-west wind, the tyrant
of this country, after having escaped from our
mountains and forests, free from all impedi
ment in its short passage, blows with redoubled
force and renders this island bleak and uncom
fortable. On the other hand, the goodness of
their houses, the social hospitality of their fire
sides, and their good cheer, make them ample
amends for the severity of the season; nor are
the snows so deep as on the main. The neces
sary and unavoidable inactivity of that season,
combined with the vegetative rest of nature,
force mankind to suspend their toils : often at
this season more than half the inhabitants of
the island are at sea, fishing in milder latitudes.
This island, as has been already hinted, ap
pears to be the summit of some huge sandy
mountain, affording some acres of dry land for
the habitation of man; other submarine ones
lie to the southward of this, at different depths
and different distances. This dangerous region
is well known to the mariners by the name of
Nantucket Shoals : these are the bulwarks which
so powerfully defend this island from the im
pulse of the mighty ocean, and repel the force
of its waves; which, but for the accumulated
barriers, would ere now have dissolved its
foundations,

140 DESCRIPTION OF
foundations, and torn it in pieces. These are
the banks which afforded to the first inhabitants
of Nantucket their daily subsistence, as it was
from these shoals that they drew the origin of
that wealth which they now possess; and was
the school where they first learned how to ven
ture farther, as the fish of their coast receded.
The shores of this island abound with the soft-
shelled, the hard-shelled, and the great sea
clams, a most nutricious shell-fish. Their sands,
their shallows are covered with them; they
multiply so fast, that they are a never failing-
resource. These and the great variety of fish
they catch, constitute the principal food of the
inhabitants. It was likewise that of the
aborigines, whom the first settlers found here;
the posterity of whom still live together in
decent houses along the shores of Miacomet
pond, on the south side of the island. They
are an industrious, harmless race, as expert and
as fond of a seafaring life as their fellow in
habitants the whites. Long before their ar
rival they had been engaged in petty wars
against one another; the latter brought them
peace, for it was in quest of peace that they
abandoned the main. This island was then
supposed to be under the jurisdiction of New-
York, as well as the islands of the Vineyard,
Elizabeth's, &c. but have been since adjudged to

NANTUCKET. 141
to be a part of the province of Massachu
setts-Bay. This change of jurisdiction pro
cured them that peace they wanted, and which
their brethren had so long refused them in the
days of their religious frenzy: thus have en
thusiasm and persecution both in Europe as well
as here, been the cause of the most arduous
undertakings, and the means of those rapid
settlements which have been made along these
extended sea-shores. This island, having been
since incorporated with the neighbouring prov
ince, is become one of its counties, known by
the name of Nantucket, as well as the island of
the Vineyard, by that of Duke's County. They
enjoy here the same municipal establishment in
common with the rest; and therefore every
requisite officer, such as sheriff, justice of the
peace, supervisors, assessors, constables, over
seer of the poor, &c. Their taxes are propor
tioned to those of the metropolis, they are
levied as with us by valuations, agreed on and
fixed, according to the laws of the province;
and by assessments formed by the assessors,
who are yearly chosen by the people, and whose
office obliges them to take either an oath or an
> affirmation. Two thirds of the magistrates
they have here are of the society of Friends.
Before I enter into the further detail of this
people's government, industry, mode of living, &c. I

142 DESCRIPTION OF
&c. I think it necessary to give you a short
sketch of the political state the natives had been
in, a few years preceding the arrival of the
whites among them. They are hastening tow
ards a total annihilation, and this may be per
haps the last compliment that will ever be paid
them by any traveller. They were not extir
pated by fraud, violence, or injustice, as hath
been the case in so many provinces ; on the con
trary, they have been treated by these people as
brethren; the peculiar genius of their sect in
spiring them with the same spirit of moderation
which was exhibited at Pensylvania. Before
the arrival of the Europeans, they lived on the
fish of their shores; and it was from the same
resources the first settlers were compelled to
draw their first subsistence. It is uncertain
whether the original right of the Earl of Sterl
ing, or that of the Duke of York, was founded
on a fair purchase of the soil or not ; whatever
injustice might have been committed in that
respect, cannot be charged to the account of
those Friends who purchased from others who
no doubt founded their right on Indian grants:
and if their numbers are now so decreased, it
must not be attributed either to tyranny or
violence, but to some of those causes, which
have uninterruptedly produced the same effects
from one end of the continent to the other,
wherever

NANTUCKET. 143
wherever both nations have been mixed. This
insignificant spot, like the sea-shores of the
great peninsula, was filled with these people;
the great plenty of clams, oysters, and other
fish, on which they lived, and which they easily
catched, had prodigiously increased their num
bers. History does not inform us what par
ticular nation the aborigines of Nantucket were
of; it is however very probable that they an
ciently emigrated from the opposite coast, per
haps from the Hyannees, which is but twenty-
seven miles distant. As they then spoke and
still speak the Nattick, it is reasonable to sup
pose that they must have had some affinity with
that nation; or else that the Nattick, like the
Huron, in the north-western parts of this con
tinent, must have been the most prevailing one
in this region. Mr. Elliot, an eminent New
England divine, and one of the first founders
of that great colony, translated the Bible into
this language, in the year 1666, which was
printed soon after at Cambridge, near Boston;
he translated also the catechism, and many
other useful books, which are still very com
mon on this island, and are daily made use of
by those Indians who are taught to read. The
young Europeans learn it with the same facility
as their own tongues; and ever after speak it
both with ease and fluency. Whether the pres ent

144 DESCRIPTION OF
ent Indians are the descendants of the ancient
natives of the island, or whether they are the
remains of the many different nations which
once inhabited the regions of Mashpe and
Nobscusset, in the peninsula now known by the
name of Cape Cod; no one can positively tell,
not even themselves. The last opinion seems to
be that of the most sensible people of the
island. So prevailing is the disposition of man
to quarrel, and shed blood; so prone is he to
divisions and parties; that even the ancient
natives of this little spot were separated into
two communities, inveterately waging war
against each other, like the more powerful
tribes of the continent. What do you imagine
was the cause of this national quarrel? All the
coast of their island equally abounded with the
same quantity of fish and clams ; in that instance
there could be no jealousy, no motives to anger;
the country afforded them no game ; one would
think this ought to have been the country of
harmony and peace. But behold the singular
destiny of the human kind, ever inferior, in
many instances, to the more certain instinct of
animals; among which the individuals of the
same species are always friends, though reared
in different climates : they understand the same
language, they shed not each other's blood, they
eat not each other's flesh. That part of these rude

NANTUCKET. 145
rude people who lived on the eastern shores of
the island, had from time immemorial tried to
destroy those who lived on the west ; those latter
inspired with the same evil genius, had not been
behind hand in retaliating: thus was a per
petual war subsisting between these people,
founded on no other reason, but the adven
titious place of their nativity and residence. In
process of time both parties became so thin and
depopulated, that the few who remained, fear
ing lest their race should become totally extinct,
fortunately thought of an expedient which pre
vented their entire annihilation. Some years
before the Europeans came, they mutually
agreed to settle a partition line which should
divide the island from north to south ; the peo
ple of the west agreed not to kill those of the
east, except they were found transgressing over
the western part of the line; those of the last
entered into a reciprocal agreement. By these
simple means peace was established among
them, and this is the only record which seems
to entitle them to the denomination of men.
This happy settlement put a stop to their san
guinary depredations, none fell afterward but
a few rash imprudent individuals; on the con
trary, they multiplied greatly. But another
misfortune awaited them ; when the Europeans
came they caught the small pox, and their im
proper

146 DESCRIPTION OF
proper treatment of that disorder swept away
great numbers : this calamity was succeeded by
the use of rum ; and these are the two principal
causes which so much diminished their num
bers, not only here but all over the continent.
In some places whole nations have disappeared.
Some years ago three Indian canoes, on their
return to Detroit from the falls of Niagara, un
luckily got the small pox from the Europeans
with whom they had traded. It broke out near
the long point on lake Erie, there they all
perished; their canoes, and their goods, were
afterwards found by some travellers journey
ing the same way; their dogs were still alive.
Besides the small pox, and the use of spirituous
liquors, the two greatest curses they have re
ceived from us, there is a sort of physical an
tipathy, which is equally powerful from one
end of the continent to the other. Wherever
they happen to be mixed, or even to live in the
neighbourhood of the Europeans, they become
exposed to a variety of accidents and misfor
tunes to which they always fall victims : such are
particular fevers, to which they were strangers
before, and sinking into a singular sort of in
dolence and sloth. This has been invariably
the case wherever the same association has
taken place ; as at Nattick, Mashpe, Soccanoket
in the bounds of Falmouth, Nobscusset, Houra- tonick,

NANTUCKET. 147
tonick, Monhauset, and the Vineyard. Even
the Mohawks themselves, who were once so
populous, and such renowned warriors, are now
reduced to less than 200 since the European
settlements have circumscribed the territories
which their ancestors had reserved. Three
years before the arrival of the Europeans at
Cape Cod, a frightful distemper had swept
away a great many along its coasts, which
made the landing and intrusion of our fore
fathers much easier than it otherwise might
have been. In the year 1763, above half of
the Indians of this island perished by a strange
fever, which the Europeans who nursed them
never caught; they appear to be a race doomed
to recede and disappear before the superior
genius of the Europeans. The only ancient
custom of these people that is remembered is,
that in their mutual exchanges, forty sun-dried
clams, strung on a string, passed for the value
of what might be called a copper. They were
strangers to the use and value of wampum, so
well known to those of the main. The few
families now remaining are meek and harmless ;
their ancient ferocity is gone: they were early
christianized by the New England missionaries,
as well as those of the Vineyard, and of several
other parts of Massachusets; and to this day
they remain strict observers of the laws and cus
toms

148 DESCRIPTION OF
toms of that religion, being carefully taught
while young. Their sedentary life has led
them to this degree of civilization much more
effectually, than if they had still remained
hunters. They are fond of the sea, and expert
mariners. They have learned from the
Quakers the art of catching both the cod and
whale, in consequence of which, five of them
always make part of the complement of men
requisite to fit out a whale-boat. Many have
removed hither from the Vineyard, on which
account they are more numerous on Nantucket,
than any where else.
It is strange what revolution has happened
among them in less than two hundred years!
What is become of those numerous tribes which
formerly inhabited the extensive shores of the
great bay of Massachusets ? Even from Num-
keag (Salem), Saugus (Lynn), Shawmut
(Boston), Pataxet, Napouset (Milton), Ma-
tapan (Dorchester), Winesimet (Chelsea),
Poiasset, Pokanoket (New Plymouth) , Sueca-
nosset (Falmouth) , Titicut (Chatham) , Nob-
scusset (Yarmouth), Naussit (Eastham) , Hy-
annees (Barnstable), &c. and many others who
lived on sea-shores of above three hundred
miles in length ; without mentioning those pow
erful tribes which once dwelt between the rivers
Hudson, Connecticut, Piskataqua, and Kenne- beck,

NANTUCKET. i49
beck, the Mehikaudret, Mohiguine, Pequods,
Narragansets, Nianticks, Massachusets, Wam-
ponougs, Nipnets, Tarranteens, &c. — They
are gone, and every memorial of them is lost;
no vestiges whatever are left of those swarms
which once inhabited this country, and replen
ished both sides of the great peninsula of Cape
Cod: not even one of the posterity of the
famous Masconomeo is left (the sachem of
Cape Ann) ; not one of the descendants of
Massasoit, father of Metacomet (Philip), and
Wamsutta (Alexander), he who first conveyed
some lands to the Plymouth Company. They
have all disappeared either in the wars which
the Europeans carried on against them, or else
they have mouldered away, gathered in some
of their ancient towns, in contempt and ob
livion : nothing remains of them all, but one ex
traordinary monument, and even this they
owe to the industry and religious zeal of the
Europeans, I mean the Bible translated into the
Nattick tongue. Many of these tribes giving
way to the superior power of the whites, retired
to their ancient villages, collecting the scattered
remains of nations once populous; and in their
grant of lands reserved to themselves and pos
terity certain portions, which lay contiguous
to them. There forgetting their ancient man
ners, they dwelt in peace; in a few years their
territories

150 DESCRIPTION OF
territories were surrounded by the improve
ments of the Europeans; in consequence of
which the grew lazy, inactive, unwilling, and
unapt to imitate, or to follow any of our trades,
and in a few generations, either totally per
ished or else came over to the Vineyard, or to
this island, to re-unite themselves with such soci
eties of their countrymen as would receive
them. Such has been the fate of many nations,
once warlike and independent; what we see
now on the main, or on those islands, may be
justly considered as the only remains of those
ancient tribes. Might I be permitted to pay
perhaps a very useless compliment to those
at least who inhabited the great peninsula of
Namset, now Cape Cod, with whose names
and ancient situation I am well acquainted.
This peninsula was divided into two great re
gions; that on the side of the bay was known
by the name of Nobscusset, from one of its
towns; the capital was called Nausit (now
Eastham) ; hence the Indians of that region
were called Nausit Indians, though they dwelt
in the villages of Pamet, Nosset, Pashee, Po-
tomaket, Soktoowoket, Nobscusset (Yar
mouth). The region on the Atlantic side was called
Mashpee, and contained the tribes of Hyan-
nees, Costowet, Waquoit, Scootin, Saconasset, Mashpee

NANTUCKET. 151
Mashpee, and Namset. Several of these Indian
towns have been since converted into flourish
ing European settlements, known by different
names ; for as the natives were excellent judges
of land, which they had fertilized besides with
the shells of their fish, &c. the latter could
not make a better choice; though in general
this great peninsula is but a sandy pine track,
a few good spots excepted. It is divided into
seven townships, viz. Barnstable, Yarmouth,
Harwich, Chatham, Eastham, Pamet, Nam
set, or Province town, at the extremity of
the Cape. Yet these are very populous, though
I am at a loss to conceive on what the inha
bitants live, besides clams, oysters, and fish;
their piny lands being the most ungrateful soil
in the world. The minister of Namset or Pro
vince Town, receives from the government of
Massachuset a salary of fifty pounds per an
num; and such is the poverty of the inhabitants
of that place, that, unable to pay him any
money, each master of a family is obliged to
allow him two hundred horse feet (sea spin)
with which this primitive priest fertilizes the
land of his glebe, which he tills himself: for
nothing will grow on these hungry soils with
out the assistance of this extraordinary manure,
fourteen bushels of Indian corn being looked
upon as a good crop. But it is time to return from

1 52 DESCRIPTION OF
from a digression, which I hope you will par
don. Nantucket is a great nursery of seamen,
pilots, coasters, and bank-fishermen; as a
country belonging to the province of Massa
chusets, it has yearly the benefit of a court of
Common Pleas, and their appeal lies to the
supreme court at Boston. I observed before,
that the Friends compose two thirds of the
magistracy of this island; thus they are the
proprietors of its territory, and the principal
rulers of its inhabitants; but with all this ap
paratus of law, its coercive powers are seldom
wanted or required. Seldom is it that any
individual is amerced or punished; their jail
conveys no terror; no man has lost his life here
judicially since the foundation of this town,
which is upwards of an hundred years. So
lemn tribunals, public executions, humiliating
punishments, are altogether unknown. I saw
neither governors, nor any pageantry of state;
neither ostentatious magistrates, nor any indi
viduals cloathed with useless dignity: no arti
ficial phantoms subsist here either civil or re
ligious; no gibbets loaded with guilty citizens
offer themselves to your view; no soldiers are
appointed to bayonet their compatriots into
servile compliance. But how is a society
composed of 5000 individuals preserved in the
bonds of peace and tranquility? How are the

NANTUCKET. 153
the weak protected from the strong? — I will
tell you. Idleness and poverty, the causes of
so many crimes, are unknown here; each
seeks in the prosecution of his lawful business
that honest gain which supports them; every
period of their time is full, either on shore
or at sea. A probable expectation of reason
able profits, or of kindly assistance, if they
fail of success, renders them strangers to licen
tious expedients. The simplicity of their
manners shortens the catalogues of their wants;
the law at a distance is ever ready to exert
itself in the protection of those who stand in
need of its assistance. The greatest part of
them are always at sea, pursuing the whale or
raising the cod from the surface of the banks :
some cultivate their little farms with the ut
most diligence; some are employed in exercis
ing various trades; others again in providing
every necessary resource in order to refit their
vessels, or repair what misfortunes may happen,
looking out for future markets, &c. Such
is the rotation of those different scenes of busi
ness which fill the measure of their days; of
that part of their lives at least which is en
livened by health, spirits, and vigour. It is
but seldom that vice grows on a barren sand
like this, which produces nothing without ex
treme labour. How could the common follies of

i54 DESCRIPTION OF
of society take root in so despicable a soil;
they generally thrive on its exuberant juices:
here there are none but those which admin
ister to the useful, to the necessary, and to
the indispensable comforts of life. This land
must necessarily either produce health, tempe
rance, and a great equality of conditions, or the
most abject misery. Could the manners of lux
urious countries be imported here, like an epi
demical disorder they would destroy every
thing; the majority of them could not exist a
month, they would be obliged to emigrate. As
in all societies except that of the natives, some
difference must necessarily exist between indivi
dual and individual, for there must be some
more exalted than the rest either by their riches
or their talents ; so in this, there are what you
might call the high, the middling, and the low;
and this difference will always be more re
markable among people who live by sea ex
cursions than among those who live by the
cultivation of their land. The first run greater
hazard, and adventure more : the profits and the
misfortunes attending this mode of life must
necessarily introduce a greater disparity than
among the latter, where the equal divisions of
the land offers no short road to superior riches.
The only difference that may arise among them
is that of industry, and perhaps of superior
goodness

NANTUCKET. 155
goodness of soil: the gradations I observed
here, are founded on nothing more than the
good or ill success of their maritime enterprizes,
and do not proceed from education ; that is the
same throughout every class, simple, useful, and
unadorned like their dress and their houses.
This necessary difference in their fortunes does
not however cause those heart burnings, which
in other societies generate crimes. The sea
which surrounds them is equally open to all,
and presents to all an equal title to the chance
of good fortune. A collector from Boston is
the only king's officer who appears on these
shores to receive the trifling duties which this
community owe to those who protect them,
and under the shadow of whose wings they navi
gate to all parts of the world.

LETTER

156 EDUCATION, &C.

LETTER V.
CUSTOMARY EDUCATION AND EMPLOYMENT
OF THE INHABITANTS OF NANTUCKET.
THE easiest way of becoming ac
quainted with the modes of thinking,
the rules of conduct, and the prevail
ing manners of any people, is to examine what
sort of education they give their children; how
they treat them at home, and what they are
taught in their places of public worship. At
home their tender minds must be early struck
with the gravity, the serious though chearful de
portment of their parents; they are inured to
a principle of subordination, arising neither
from sudden passions nor inconsiderate pleas
ure; they are gently held by an uniform silk
cord, which unites softness and strength. A per
fect equanimity prevails in most of their fam
ilies, and bad example hardly ever sows in their
hearts the seeds of future and similar faults.
They are corrected with tenderness, nursed with
the most affectionate care, clad with that decent
plainness, from which they observe their parents
never to depart: in short, by the force of ex
ample,

AT NANTUCKET. 157
ample, which is superior even to the strongest
instinct of nature, more than by precepts, they
learn to follow the steps of their parents, to de
spise ostentatiousness as being sinful. They
acquire a taste for neatness for which their
fathers are so conspicuous; they learn to be
prudent and saving; the very tone of voice
with which they are always addressed, estab
lishes in them that softness of diction, which
ever after becomes habitual. Frugal, sober,
orderly parents, attached to their business,
constantly following some useful occupation,
never guilty of riot, dissipation, or other irre
gularities, cannot fail of training up children to
the same uniformity of life and manners. If
they are left with fortunes, they are taught how
to save them, and how to enjoy them with
moderation and decency; if they have none,
they know how to venture, how to work and
toil as their fathers have done before them. If
they fail of success, there are always in this
island (and wherever this society prevails)
established resources, founded on the most be
nevolent principles. At their meetings they
are taught the few, the simple tenets of their
sect; tenets as fit to render men sober, indus
trious, just, and merciful, as those delivered
in the most magnificent chwrches and cathe
drals: they are instructed in the most essential duties

158 EDUCATION, &C.
duties of Christianity, so as not to offend the
Divinity by the commission of evil deeds; to
dread his wrath and the punishments he has
denounced; they are taught at the same time
to have a proper confidence in his mercy while
they deprecate his justice. As every scet, from
their different modes of worship, and their
different interpretations of some parts of the
Scriptures, necessarily have various opinions
and prejudices, which contribute something in
forming their characters in society; so those
of the Friends are well known: obedience to
the laws, even to non-resistance, justice, good
will to all, benevolence at home, sobriety,
meekness, neatness, love of order, fondness
and appetite for commerce. They are as re
markable here for those virtues as at Philadel
phia, which is their American cradle, and the
boast of that society. At schools they learn to
read, and to write a good hand, until they are
twelve years old; they are then in general put
apprentices to the cooper's trade, which is the
second essential branch of business followed
here ; at fourteen they are sent to sea, where in
their leisure hours their companions teach
them the art of navigation, which they have
an opportunity of practising on the spot. They
learn the great and useful art of working a ship
in all the different situations which the sea and
wind

AT NANTUCKET. 159
wind so often require ; and surely there cannot
be a better or a more useful school of that
kind in the world. Then they go gradually
through every station of rowers, steersmen, and
harpooners; thus they learn to attack, to pur
sue, to overtake, to cut, to dress their huge
game : and after having performed several such
voyages, and perfected themselves in this busi
ness, they are fit either for the counting house
or the chase.
The first proprietors of this island, or rather
the first founders of this town, began their
career of industry with a single whale-boat, with
which they went to fish for cod ; the small dis
tance from their shores at which they caught it,
enabled them soon to increase their business,
and those early successes, first led them to con
ceive that they might likewise catch the whales,
which hitherto sported undisturbed on their
banks. After many trials and several miscar
riages, they succeeded; thus they proceeded,
step by step; the profits of one successful enter
prise helped them to purchase and prepare bet
ter materials for a more extensive one : as these
were attended with little costs, their profits grew
greater. The south sides of the island from
east to west, were divided into four equal
parts, and each part was assigned to a com
pany of six, which though thus separated, still
carried

160 EDUCATION, &C.
carried on their business in common. In the
middle of this distance, they erected a mast,
provided with a sufficient number of rounds,
and near it they built a temporary hut, where
five of the associates lived, whilst the sixth
from his high station carefully looked toward
the sea, in order to observe the spouting of the
whales. As soon as any were discovered,
the sentinel descended, the whale-boat was
launched, and the company went forth in quest
of their game. It may appear strange to you,
that so slender a vessel as an American whale-
boat, containing six diminutive beings, should
dare to pursue and to attack, in its native ele
ment, the largest and strongest fish that nature
has created. Yet by the exertions of an admi
rable dexterity, improved by a long practice,
in which these people are become superior to
any other whale-men; by knowing the temper
of the whale after her first movement, and by
many other useful observations; they seldom
failed to harpoon it, and to bring the huge
leviathan on the shores. Thus they went on
until the profits they made, enabled them to
purchase larger vessels, and to pursue them far
ther, when the whales quitted their coasts;
those who failed in their enterprizes, returned
to the cod-fisheries, which had been their first
school, and their first resource ; they even began to

AT NANTUCKET. 161
to visit the banks of Cape Breton, the isle of
Sable, and all the other fishing places, with
which this coast of America abounds. By
degrees they went a whaling to Newfoundland,
to the Gulph of St. Laurence, to the Straits
of Belleisle, the coast of Labrador, Davis's
Straits, even to Cape Desolation, in 70° of
latitude; where the Danes carry on some
fisheries in spite of the perpetual severities of
the inhospitable climate. In process of time
they visited the western islands, the latitude of
340 famous for that fish, the Brazils, the coast
of Guinea. Would you believe that they have
already gone to the Falkland Islands, and that
I have heard several of them talk of going to
the South Sea ! Their confidence is so great,
and their knowledge of this branch of busi
ness so superior to that of any other people,
that they have acquired a monopoly of this
commodity. Such were their feeble begin
nings, such the infancy and the progress of
their maritime schemes ; such is now the degree
of boldness and activity to which they are
arrived in their manhood. After their ex
amples several companies have been formed
in many of our capitals, where every necessary
article of provisions, implements, and timber,
are to be found. But the industry exerted by
the people of Nantucket, hath hitherto enabled them

1 62 EDUCATION, &C.
them to rival all their competitors; conse
quently this is the greatest mart for oil, whale
bone, and spermaceti, on the continent. It does
not follow however that they are always suc
cessful, this would be an extraordinary field
indeed, where the crops should never fail ; many
voyages do not repay the original cost of fitting
out: they bear such misfortunes like true mer
chants, and as they never venture their all like
gamesters, they try their fortunes again; the
latter hope to win by chance alone, the former
by industry, well judged speculation, and some
hazard. I was there when Mr.  had
missed one of his vessels; she had been given
over for lost by everybody, but happily arrived
before I came away, after an absence of thir
teen months. She had met with a variety of
disappointments on the station she was ordered
to, and rather than return empty, the people
steered for the coast of Guinea, where they for
tunately fell in with several whales, and brought
home upward of 600 barrels of oil, beside bone.
Those returns are sometimes disposed of in the
towns on the continent, where they are ex
changed for such commodities as are wanted;
but they are most commonly sent to England,
where they always sell for cash. When this is
intended, a vessel larger than the rest is fitted
out to be filled with oil on the spot where it is
found

AT NANTUCKET. 163
found and made, and thence she sails immedi
ately for London. This expedient saves time,
freight, and expence ; and from that capital they
bring back whatever they want. They employ
also several vessels in transporting lumber to
the West Indian Islands, from whence they pro
cure in return the various productions of the
country, which they afterwards exchange
wherever they can hear of an advantageous
market. Being extremely acute they well know
how to improve all the advantages which the
combination of so many branches of busi
ness constantly affords; the spirit of commerce,
which is the simple art of a reciprocal supply
of wants, is well understood here by everybody.
They possess, like the generality of Americans,
a large share of native penetration, activity, and
good sense, which lead them to a variety of
other secondary schemes too tedious to men
tion : they are well acquainted with the cheapest
method of procuring lumber from Kennebeck
river, Penobscot, &c. pitch and tar, from North
Carolina ; flour and biscuit, from Philadelphia ;
beef and pork, from Connecticut. They know
how to exchange their cod fish and West-Indian
produce, for those articles which they are con
tinually either bringing to their island, or send
ing off to other places where they are wanted.
By means of all these commercial negociations, they

1 64 EDUCATION, &C.
they have greatly cheapened the fitting out of
their whaling fleets, and therefore much im
proved their fisheries. They are indebted for
all these advantages not only to their national
genius but to the poverty of their soil; and as
proof of what I have so often advanced, look
at the Vineyard (their neighboring island)
which is inhabited by a set of people as keen and
as sagacious as themselves. Their soil being
in general extremely fertile, they have fewer
navigators; though they are equally well sit
uated for the fishing business. As in my way
back to Falmouth on the main, I visited this
sister island, permit me to give you as concisely
as I can, a short but true description of it; I
am not so limited in the principal object of this
journey, as to wish to confine myself to the
single spot of Nantucket.

LETTER

MARTHA'S VINEYARD. 165

LETTER VI.
DESCRIPTION OF THE ISLAND OF MARTHA' S
VINEYARD; AND OF THE WHALE FISHERY.
THIS island is twenty miles in length,
and from seven to eight miles In
breadth.- It lies nine miles from the
continent, and with the Elizabeth Islands forms
one of the counties of Massachusets Bay, known
by the name of Duke's County. Those latter,
which are six in number, are about nine miles
distant from the Vineyard, and are all famous
for excellent dairies. A good ferry is estab
lished between Edgar Town, and Falmouth on
the main, the distance being nine miles. Mar
tha's Vineyard is divided into three townships,
viz. Edgar, Chilmark, and Tisbury ; the number
of inhabitants is computed at about 4000, 30c
of which are Indians. Edgar is the best sea
port, and the shire town, and as its soil is light
and sandy, many of its inhabitants follow the
example of the people of Nantucket. The
town of Chilmark has no good harbour, but the
land is excellent and no way inferior to any on
the continent: it contains excellent pastures,
convenient

1 66 DESCRIPTION OF
convenient brooks for mills, stone for fencing,
&c. The town of Tisbury is remarkable for
the excellence of its timber, and has a har
bour where the water is deep enough for ships
of the line. The stock of the island is 20,000
sheep, 2000 neat cattle, beside horses and
goats; they have also some deer, and abundance
of sea fowls. This has been from the begin
ning, and is to this day, the principal seminary
of the Indians; they live on that part of the
island which is called Chapoquidick, and were
very early christianised by the respectable
family of the Mahews, the first proprietors of
it. The first settler of that name conveyed by
will to a favourite daughter a certain part of
it, on which there grew many wild vines ; thence
it was called Martha's Vineyard, after her
name, which in process of time extended to the
whole island. The posterity of the ancient
Aborigines remain here to this day, on lands
which their forefathers reserved for themselves,
and which are religiously kept from any in-
croachments. The New England people are
remarkable for the honesty with which they
have fulfilled, all over that province, those
ancient covenants which in many others have
been disregarded, to the scandal of those gov
ernments. The Indians there appeared, by the
decency of their manners, their industry, and
neatness

MARTHA'S VINEYARD. 167
neatness, to be wholly Europeans, and nowise
inferior to many of the inhabitants. Like
them they are sober, laborious, and religious,
which are the principal characteristics of the
four New England provinces. They often go,
like the young men of the Vineyard, to Nan
tucket, and hire themselves for whalemen or
fishermen; and indeed their skill and dexterity
in all sea affairs is nothing inferior to that of
the whites. The latter are divided into two
classes, the first occupy the land, which they
till with admirable care and knowledge; the
second, who are possessed of none, apply them
selves to the sea, the general resource of man
kind in this part of the world. This island
therefore, like Nantucket, is become a great
nursery which supplies with pilots and seamen
the numerous coasters with which this extended
part of America abounds. Go where you will
from Nova Scotia to the Missisippi, you will find
almost every where some natives of these two
islands employed in seafaring occupations.
Their climate is so favourable to population,
that marriage is the object of every man's
earliest wish; and it is a blessing so easily
obtained, that great numbers are obliged to
quit their native land and go to some other
countries in quest of subsistence. The inhabi
tants are all Presbyterians, which is the estab
lished

168 DESCRIPTION OF
lished rehgion of Massachusets; and here let
me remember with gratitude the hospitable
treatment I received from B. Norton, Esq.
the colonel of the island, as well as from Dr.
Mahew, the lineal descendant of the first pro
prietor. Here are to be found the most ex
pert pilots, either for the great bay, their sound,
Nantucket shoals, or the different ports in their
neighbourhood. In stormy weather they are
always at sea, looking out for vessels, which
they board with singular dexterity, and hardly
ever fail to bring safe to their intended harbour.
Gay-Head, the western point of this island,
abounds with a variety of ochres of different
colours, with which the inhabitants paint their
houses. The vessels most proper for whale fishing are
brigs of about 150 tons burthen, particularly
when they are intended for distant latitudes;
they always man them with thirteen hands, in
order that they may row two whale boats; the
crews of which must necessarily consist of six,
four at the oars, one standing on the bows
with the harpoon, and the other at the helm.
It is also necessary that there should be two of
these boats, that if one should be destroyed in
attacking the whale, the other, which is never
engaged at the same time, may be ready to
save the hands. Five of the thirteen are al
ways

MARTHA'S VINEYARD. 169
ways Indians; the last of the complement re
mains on board to steer the vessel during the
action. They have no wages; each draws a
certain established share in partnership with the
proprietor of the vessel; by which ceconomy
they are all proportionately concerned in the
success of the enterprise, and all equally alert
and vigilant. None of these whale-men ever
exceed the age of forty: they look on those
who are past that period not to be possessed of
all that vigour and agility which so adventurous
a business requires. Indeed if you attentively
consider the immense disproportion between the
object assailed and the assailants; if you think
on the diminutive size, and weakness of their
frail vehicle; if you recollect the treachery of
the element on which this scene is transacted;
the sudden and unforeseen accidents of winds,
&c. you will readily acknowledge, that it must
require the most consummate exertion of all
the strength, agility, and judgement, of which
the bodies 'and minds of men are capable,
to undertake these adventurous encounters.
As soon as they arrive in those latitudes
where they expect to meet with whales, a man is
sent up to the mast head; if he sees one, he
immediately cries out AWAITE PAWANA, here is
a whale; they all remain still and silent until
he repeats pawana, a whale, when in less
than

170 ACCOUNT OF THE
than six minutes the two boats are launched,
filled with every implement necessary for the
attack. They row toward the whale with
astonishing velocity; and as the Indians early
became their fellow labourers in this new war
fare, you can easily conceive, how the Nat
tick expressions became familiar on board the
whale-boats. Formerly it often happened that
whale vessels were manned with none but In
dians and the master; recollect also that the
Nantucket people understand the Nattick, and
that there are always five of these people on
board. There are various ways of approaching
the whale, according to their peculiar species;
and this previous knowledge is of the utmost
consequence. When these boats are arrived at
a reasonable distance, one of them rests on its
oars and stands off, as a witness of the ap
proaching engagement; near the bows of the
other the harpooner stands up, and on him
principally depends the success of the enter
prise. He wears a jacket closely buttoned, and
round his head a handkerchief tightly bound:
in his hands he holds the dreadful weapon,
made of the best steel, marked sometimes with
the name of their town, and sometimes with
that of their vessel; to the shaft of which the
end of a cord of due length, coiled up with
the utmost care in the middle of the boat, is
firmly

WHALE FISHERY. i7i
firmly tied; the other end is fastened to the
bottom of the boat. Thus prepared they row
in profound silence, leaving the whole con
duct of the enterprise to the harpooner and to
the steersman, attentively following their di
rections. When the former judges himself
to be near enough to the whale, that is, at the
distance of about fifteen feet, he bids them
stop; perhaps she has a calf, whose safety at
tracts all the attention of the dam, which is a
favourable circumstance; perhaps she is of a
dangerous species, and it is safest to retire,
though their ardour will seldom permit them;
perhaps she is asleep, in that case he balances
high the harpoon, trying in this important
moment to collect all the energy of which
he is capable. He launches it forth — she is
struck : from her first movements they judge of
her temper, as well as of their future suc
cess. Sometimes in the immediate impulse of
rage, she will attack the boat and demolish it
with one stroke of her tail; in an instant the
frail vehicle disappears and the assailants are
immersed in the dreadful element. Were the
whale armed with the jaws of a shark, and
as voracious,, they never would return home to
amuse their listening wives with the interesting
tale of the adventure. At other times she
will dive and disappear from human sight; and
every

1 72 ACCOUNT OF THE
every thing must give way to her velocity,
or else all is lost. Sometimes she will swim away
as if untouched, and draw the cord with such
swiftness that it will set the edge of the boat
on fire by the friction. If she rises before she
has run out the whole length, she is looked
upon as a sure prey. The blood she has lost
in her flight, weakens her so much, that if she
sinks again, it is but for a short time ; the boat
follows her course with an almost equal speed.
She soon re-appears; tired at last with con
vulsing the element; which she tinges with her
blood, she dies, and floats on the surface. At
other times it may happen, that she is not
dangerously wounded, though she carries the
harpoon fast in her body ; when she will alter
nately dive and rise, and swim on with unabated
vigour. She then soon reaches beyond the
length of the cord, and carries the boat along
with amazing velocity : this sudden impediment
sometimes will retard her speed, at other times
it only serves to rouse her anger, and to ac
celerate her progress. The harpooner, with the
axe in his hands, stands ready. When he ob
serves that the bows of the boat are greatly
pulled down by the diving whale, and that it
begins to sink deep and to take much water,
he brings the axe almost in contact with the
cord ; he pauses, still flattering himself that she
will

WHALE FISHERY. 173
will relax; but the moment grows critical, un
avoidable danger approaches: sometimes men
more intent on gain, than on the preservation
of their lives, will run great risks; and it is
wonderful how far these people have carried
their daring courage at this awful moment!
But it is vain to hope, their lives must be
saved, the cord is cut, the boat rises again. If
after thus getting loose, she re-appears, they
will attack and wound her a second time. She
soon dies, and when dead she is towed along
side of their vessel, where she is fastened. 'X
The next operation is to cut with axes and
spades, every part of her body which yields
oil; the kettles are set a boiling, they fill
their barrels as fast as it is made; but as this
operation is much slower than that of cutting
up, they fill the hold of their ship with those
fragments, least a storm should arise and oblige
them to abandon their prize. It is astonish
ing what a quantity of oil some of these fish
will yield, and what profit it affords to those
who are fortunate enough to overtake them.
The river St. Laurence whale, which is the only
one I am well acquainted with, is seventy-five
feet long, sixteen deep, twelve in the length of
its bone, which commonly weighs 3000 lb.
twenty in the breadth of their tails and produces
180 barrels of oil: I once saw 16 boiled out of
the

174 ACCOUNT OF THE
the tongue only. After having once van
quished this leviathan, there are two enemies
to be dreaded beside the wind; the first of
which is the shark : that fierce voracious fish, to
which nature has given such dreadful offensive
weapons, often comes alongside, and in spite
of the people's endeavours, will share with
them their prey; at night particularly. They
are very mischevious, but the second enemy is
much more terrible and irresistible; it is the
killer, sometimes called the thrasher, a species
of whales about thirty feet long. They are
possessed of such a degree of agility and fierce
ness, as often to attack the largest spermaceti
whales, and not seldom to rob the fishermen of
their prey; nor is there any means of defence
against so potent an adversary. When all their
barrels are full, for every thing is done at sea,
or when their limited time is expired and their
stores almost expended, they return home,
freighted with their valuable cargo ; unless they
have put it on board a vessel for the European
market. Such are, as briefly as I can relate
them, the different branches of the oeconomy
practised by these bold navigators, and the
method with which they go such distances from
their island to catch this huge game.
The following are the names and principal
characteristics

WHALE FISHERY. 175
characteristics of the various species of whales
known to these people :
The St. Laurence whale, just described.
The disko, or Greenland ditto.
The right whale, or seven feet bone, com
mon on the coasts of this country, about sixty
feet long.
The spermaceti whale, found all over the
world, and of all sizes; the longest are sixty
feet, and yield about 100 barrels of oil.
The hump-backs, on the coast of New
foundland, from forty to seventy feet in length.
The finn-back, an American whale, never
killed, as being too swift.
The sulpher-bottom, river St. Laurence,
ninety feet long ; they are but seldom killed, as
being extremely swift.
The grampus, thirty feet long, never killed
on the same account.
The killer or thrasher, about thirty feet, they
often kill the other whales with which they are
at perpetual war.
The black fish whale, twenty feet, yields
from 8 to 10 barrels.
The porpoise, weighing about 160 lb.
In 1769 they fitted out 125 whalemen; the
first 50 that returned brought with them 1 1,000
barrels of oil. In 1770 they fitted out 135
vessels for the fisheries, at thirteen hands each ;
4 West-

176 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
4 West-Indiamen, twelve hands; 25 wood
vessels, four hands; 18 coasters, five hands;
15 London traders, eleven hands. All these
amount to 2158 hands, employed in 197 ves
sels. Trace their progressive steps between
the possession of a few whale boats, and that
of such a fleet !
The moral conduct, prejudices, and customs
of a people who live two-thirds of their time
at sea, must naturally be very different from
those of their neighbours, who live by culti
vating the earth. That long abstemiousness to
which the former are exposed, the breathing
of saline air, the frequent repetitions of danger,
the boldness acquired in surmounting them, the
very impulse of the winds, to which they are
exposed; all these, one would imagine must
lead them, when on shore, to no small desire of
inebriation, and a more eager pursuit of those
pleasures, of which they have been so iong
deprived, and which they must soon forego.
There are many appetites that may be gratified
on shore, even by the poorest man, but which
must remain unsatisfied at sea. Yet notwith
standing the powerful effects of all these causes,
I observed here, at the return of their fleets,
no material irregularities; no tumultuous
drinking assemblies: whereas in our conti
nental towns, the thoughtless seaman indulges himself

AT NANTUCKET. 177
himself in the coarsest pleasures; and vainly
thinking that a week of debauchery can com
pensate for months of abstinence, foolishly
lavishes in a few days of intoxication, the fruits
of half a year's labour. On the contrary all
was peace here, and a general decency pre
vailed throughout; the reason I believe is,
that almost everybody here is married, for they
get wives very young; and the pleasure of
returning to their families absorbs every other
desire. The motives that lead them to the
sea, are very different from those of most other
sea-faring men; it is neither idleness nor
profligacy that sends them to that element; it
is a settled plan of life, a well founded hope
of earning a livelihood; it is because their
soil is bad, that they are early initiated to this
profession, and were they to stay at home, what
could they do ? The sea therefore becomes to
them a kind of patrimony; they go to whal
ing with as much pleasure and tranquil indif
ference, with as strong an expectation of suc
cess, as a landsman undertakes to clear a piece
of swamp. The first is obliged to advance his
time, and labour, to procure oil on the sur
face of the sea; the second advances the same
to procure himself grass from grounds that
produced nothing before but hassocks and bogs.
Among those who do not use the sea, I ob
served

178 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
served the same calm appearance as among
the inhabitants on the continent; here I found,
without gloom, a decorum and reserve, so nat
ural to them, that I thought myself in Phila
delphia. At my landing I was cordially re
ceived by those to whom I was recommended,
and treated with unaffected hospitality by such
others with whom I became acquainted; and
I can tell you, that it is impossible for any
traveller to dwell here one month without
knowing the heads of the principal families.
Wherever J went I found a simplicity of diction
and manners, rather more primitive and rigid
than I expected; and I soon perceived that it
proceeded from their secluded situation, which
has prevented them from mixing with others.
It is therefore easy to conceive how they have
retained every degree of peculiarity for which
this sect was formerly distinguished. Never
was a bee-hive more faithfully employed in
gathering wax, bee-bread, and honey, from all
the neighbouring fields, than are the members
of this society; every one in the town follows
some particular occupation with great diligence,
but without that servility of labour which I am
informed prevails in Europe. The mechanic
seemed to be descended from as good parent
age, was as well dressed and fed, and held in as
much estimation as those who employed him; they

AT NANTUCKET. 179
they were once nearly related; their different
degrees of prosperity is what has caused the
various shades of their community. But this
accidental difference has introduced, as yet,
neitherarrogance nor pride on the one part, nor
meanness and servility on the other. All their
houses are neat, convenient, and comfortable;
some of them are filled with two families, for
when the husbands are at sea, the wives require
less house-room. They all abound with the
most substantial furniture, more valuable from
its usefulness than from any ornamental ap
pearance. Wherever I went, I found good
cheer, a welcome reception; and after the sec
ond visit I felt myself as much at my ease as if I
had been an old acquaintance of the family.
They had as great plenty of every thing as if
their island had been part of the golden quarter
of Virginia (a valuable track of land on Cape
Charles) : I could hardly persuade myself that
I had quitted the adjacent continent, where
every thing abounds, and that I was on a barren
sand-bank, fertilized with whale oil only. As
their rural improvements are but trifling, and
only of the useful kind, and as the best of them
are at a considerable distance from the town, I
amused myself for several days in conversing
with the most intelligent of the inhabitants of
both sexes, and making myself acquainted with the

180 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
the various branches of their industry; the
different objects of their trade; the nature of
that sagacity which, deprived as they are of
every necessary material, produce, &c. yet en
ables them to flourish, to live well, and some
times to make considerable fortunes. The
whole is an enigma to be solved only by coming
to the spot and observing the national genius
which the original founders brought with them,
as well as their unwearied patience and perse
verance. They have all, from the highest to
the lowest, a singular keenness of judgment, un
assisted by any academical light; they all pos
sess a large share of good sense, improved upon
the experience of their fathers ; and this is the
surest and best guide to lead us through the
path of life, because it approaches nearest to
the infallibility of instinct. Shining talents and
University knowledge, would be entirely use
less here, nay, would be dangerous; it would
pervert their plain judgment, it would lead
them out of that useful path which is so well
adapted to their situation ; it would make them
more adventurous, more presumptuous, much
less cautious, and therefore less successful. It
is pleasing to hear some of them tracing a
father's progress and their own, through the
different vicissitudes of good and adverse for
tune. I have often, by their fire-sides, trav elled

AT NANTUCKET. 181
elled with them the whole length of their
career, from their earliest steps, from their first
commercial adventure, from the possession of
a single whale-boat, up to that of a dozen large
vessels! This does not imply, however, that
every one who began with a whale-boat, has
ascended to a like pitch of fortune; by no
means, the same casualty, the same combina
tion of good and evil which attends human
affairs in every other part of the globe, prevails
here : a great prosperity is not the lot of every
man, but there are many and various grada
tions; if they all do not attain riches, they all
attain an easy subsistence. After all, is it not
better to be possessed of a single whale-boat, or
a few sheep pastures ; to live free and indepen
dent under the mildest governments, in a
healthy climate, in a land of charity and benevo
lence; than to be wretched as so many are in
Europe, possessing nothing but their industry :
tossed from one rough wave to another; en
gaged either in the most servile labours for the
smallest pittance, or fettered with the links of
the most irksome dependence, even without the
hopes of rising?
The majority of those inferior hands which
are employed in this fishery, many of the me
chanics, such as coopers, smiths, caulkers, car
penters, &c. who do not belong to the society of

1 82 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
of Friends, are Presbyterians, and originally
came from the main. Those who are possessed
of the greatest fortunes at present belong to the
former; but they all began as simple whalemen:
it is even looked upon as honourable and neces
sary for the son of the wealthiest man to serve
an apprenticeship to the same bold, adventurous
business which has enriched his father; they go
several voyages, and these early excursions
never fail to harden their constitutions, and in
troduce them to the knowledge of their future
means of subsistence.

LETTER

AT NANTUCKET. 183
LETTER VII.
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS AT NANTUCKET.
AS I observed before, every man takes a
wife as soon as he chuses, and that is
generally very early; no portion is re
quired, none is expected; no marriage articles
are drawn up among us, by skillful lawyers, to
puzzle and lead posterity to the bar, or to.
satisfy the pride of the parties. We give noth
ing with our daughters, their education, their
health, and the customary out-set, are all that
the fathers of numerous families can afford : as
the wife's fortune consists principally in her
future ceconomy, modesty, and skillful man
agement; so the husband's is founded on his
abilities to labour, on his health, and the knowl
edge of some trade or business. Their mutual
endeavours, after a few years of constant ap
plication, seldom fail of success, and of bring
ing them the means to rear and support the new
race which accompanies the nuptial bed. Those
children born by the sea-side, hear the roaring
of its waves as soon as they are able to listen ;
it is the first noise with which they become ac
quainted

1 84 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
quainted, and by early plunging in it they ac
quire that boldness, that presence of mind, and
dexterity, which makes them ever after such ex
pert seamen. They often hear their fathers re
count the adventures of their youth, their com
bats with the whales ; and these recitals imprint
on their opening minds an early curiosity and
taste for the same life. They often cross the
sea to go to the main, and learn even in those
short voyages how to qualify themselves for
longer and more dangerous ones; they are
therefore deservedly conspicuous for their mari
time knowledge and experience, all over the
continent. A man born here is distinguishable
by his gait from among an hundred other men,
so remarkable are they for a pliability of
sinews, and a peculiar agility, which attends
them even to old age. I have heard some per
sons attribute this to the effects of the whale
oil, with which they are so copiously anointed in
the various operations it must undergo ere it is
fit either for the European market or the candle
manufactory. But you may perhaps be solicitous to ask,
what becomes of that exuberancy of population
which must arise from so much temperance,
from healthiness of climate, and from early
marriage? You may justly conclude that their
native island and town can contain but a limited
number

AT NANTUCKET. 185
number. Emigration is both natural and easy
to a maritime people, and that is the very reason
why they are always populous, problematical as
it may appear. They yearly go to different
parts of this continent, constantly engaged in
sea affairs; as our internal riches encrease, so
does our external trade, which consequently re
quires more ships and more men: sometimes
they have emigrated like bees, in regular and
connected swarms. Some of the Friends (by
which word I always mean the people called
Quakers) fond of a contemplative life, yearly
visit the several congregations which this so
ciety has formed throughout the continent. By
their means a sort of correspondence is kept up
among them all; they are generally good
preachers, friendly censors, checking vice wher
ever they find it predominating ; preventing re
laxations in any parts of their ancient customs
and worship. They every where carry admoni
tion and useful advice; and by thus travelling
they unavoidably gather the most necessary ob
servations concerning the various situations of
particular districts, their soils, their produce,
their distance from navigable rivers, the price
of land, &c. In consequence of informations
of this kind, received at Nantucket in the year
1766, a considerable number of them purchased
a large track of land in the county of Orange, in

1 86 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
in North Carolina, situated on the several
spring heads of Deep River, which is the west
ern branch of Cape Fear, or North West River.
The advantage of being able to convey them
selves by sea, to within forty miles of the spot,
the richness of the soil, &c. made them cheer
fully quit an island on which there was no
longer any room for them. There they have
founded a beautiful settlement, known by the
name of New Garden, contiguous to the famous
one which the Moravians have at Bethabara,
Bethamia, and Salem, on Yadkin River. No
spot of earth can be more beautiful; it is com
posed of gentle hills, of easy declivities, excel
lent low lands, accompanied by different brooks
which traverse this settlement. I never saw a
soil that rewards men so early for their labours
and disbursements; such in general with very
few exceptions, are the lands which adjoin the
innumerable heads of all the large rivers which
fall into the Chesapeak, or flow through the
provinces of North and South Carolina,
Georgia, &c. It is perhaps the most pleasing,
the most bewitching country which the con-.
tinent affords; because while it preserves an
easy communication with the sea-port towns, at
some seasons of the year, it is perfectly free
from the contagious air often breathed in those
flat countries, which are more contiguous to the
Atlantic,

AT NANTUCKET. 187
Atlantic. These lands are as rich as those over
the Alligany; the people of New Garden are
situated at the distance of between 200 and 300
miles from Cape Fear; Cape Fear is at least
450 from Nantucket: you may judge therefore
that they have but little correspondence with
this their little metropolis, except it is by means
of the itinerant Friends. Others have settled
on the famous river Kennebeck, in that terri
tory of the province of Massachusets, which is
known by the name of Sagadahock. Here they
have softened the labours of clearing the
heaviest timbered land in America, by means of
several branches of trade which their fair river,
and proximity to the sea affords them. Instead
of entirely consuming their timber, as we are
obliged to do; some parts of it are converted
into useful articles for exportation, such as
staves, scantlings, boards, hoops, poles, &c. For
that purpose they keep a correspondence with
their native island, and I know many of the
principal inhabitants of Sherburn, who, though
merchants, and living at Nantucket, yet pos
sess valuable farms on that river; from whence
they draw great part of their subsistence, meat,
grain, fire- wood, &c. The title of these lands is
vested in the ancient Plymouth Company, un
der the powers of which the Massachusets was
settled ; and that company which resides in Bos ton

1 88 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
ton, are still the granters of all the vacant lands
within their limits.
Although this part of the province is so
fruitful, and so happily situated, yet it has been
singularly overlooked and neglected : it is sur
prising that the excellence of that soil which lies
on the river should not have caused it to be
filled before now with inhabitants; for the set
tlements from thence to Penobscot are as yet
but in their infancy. It is true that immense
labour is required to make room for the plough,
but the peculiar strength and quality of the soil
never fails most amply to reward the industri
ous possessor; I know of no soil in this coun
try more rich or more fertile. I do not mean
that sort of transitory fertility which evapo
rates with the sun, and disappears in a few
years ; here on the contrary, even their highest
grounds are covered with a rich moist swamp
mould, which bears the most luxuriant grass,
and never failing crops of grain.
If New-Gardens exceeds this settlement by
the softness of its climate, the fecundity of its
soil, and a greater variety of produce from less
labour; it does not breed men equally hardy,
nor capable to encounter dangers and fatigues.
It leads too much to idleness and effeminacy;
for great is the luxuriance of that part of Amer
ica, and the ease with which the earth is culti
vated.

AT NANTUCKET. 189
vated. Were I to begin life again, I would
prefer the country of Kennebeck to the other,
however bewitching; the navigation of the
river for above 200 miles, the great abundance
of fish it contains, the constant healthiness of
the climate, the happy severities of the winters
always sheltering the earth, with a voluminous
coat of snow, the equally happy necessity of
labour : all these reasons would greatly prepon
derate against the softer situations of Carolina ;
where mankind reap too much, do not toil
enough, and are liable to enjoy too fast the
benefits of life. There are many I know who
would despise my opinion, and think me a bad
judge; let those go and settle at the Ohio, the
Monongahela, Red Stone Creek, &c. let them
go and inhabit the extended shores of that su
perlative river ; I with equal cheerfulness would
pitch my tent on the rougher shores of Kenne
beck; this will always be a country of health,
labour, and strong activity, and those are char
acteristics of society which I value more than
greater opulence and voluptuous ease.
Thus though this fruitful hive constantly
sends out swarms, as industrious as themselves,
yet it always remains full without having any
useless drones: on the contrary it exhibits con
stant scenes of business and new schemes; the
richer an individual grows, the more extensive his

190 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
his field of action becomes; he that is near end
ing his career, drudges on as well as he who has
just begun it ; no body stands still. But is it not
strange, that after having accumulated riches,
they should never wish to exchange their barren
situation for a more sheltered, more pleasant
one on the main? Is it not strange, that after
having spent the morning and the meridian of
their days amidst the jarring waves, weary with
the toils of a laborious life; they should not
wish to enjoy the evenings of those days of in
dustry, in a larger society, on some spots of
terra firma, where the severity of the winters is
balanced by a variety of more pleasing scenes,
not to be found here ? But the same magical
power of habit and custom which makes the
Laplander, the Siberian, the Hottentot, prefer
their climates, their occupations, and their soil,
to more beneficial situations; leads these good
people to think, that no other spot on the globe
is so analagous to their inclinations as Nan
tucket. Here their connections are formed;
what would they do at a distance removed from
them ? Live sumptuously, you will say, procure
themselves new friends, new acquaintances, by
their splendid tables, by their ostentatious gen
erosity and by affected hospitality. These are
thoughts that have never entered into their
heads ; they would be filled with horror at the
thought

AT NANTUCKET. 191
thought of forming wishes and plans so differ
ent from that simplicity, which is their general
standard in affluence as well as in poverty. They
abhor the very idea of expending in useless
waste and vain luxuries, the fruits of prosper
ous labour; they are employed in establishing
their sons and in many other useful purposes:
strangers to the honours of monarchy they do
not aspire to the possession of affluent fortunes,
with which to purchase sounding titles, and
frivolous names!
Yet there are not at Nantucket so many
wealthy people as one would imagine after hav
ing considered their great successes, their in
dustry, and their knowledge. Many die poor,
though hardly able to reproach Fortune with a
frown ; others leave not behind them that afflu
ence which the circle of their business, and of
their prosperity naturally promised. The rea
son of this is, I believe, the peculiar expence
necessarily attending their tables; for as their
island supplies the town with little or nothing
(a few families excepted) every one must pro
cure what they want from the main. The very
hay their horses consume, and every other ar
ticle necessary to support a family, though
cheap in a country of so great abundance as
Massachusets; yet the necessary waste and ex
pences attending their transport, render these
commodities

192 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
commodities dear. A vast number of little ves
sels from the main, and from the Vineyard, are
constantly resorting here, as to a market. Sher-
burn is extremely well supplied with every
thing, but this very constancy of supply, neces
sarily drains off a great deal of money. The
first use they make of their oil and bone is to
exchange it for bread and meat, and whatever
else they want; the necessities of a large family
are very great and numerous, let its oeconomy
be what it will ; they are so often repeated, that
they perpetually draw off a considerable branch
of the profits. If by any accidents those profits
are interrupted, the capital must suffer; and it
very often happens that the greatest part of
their property is floating on the sea.
There are but two congregations in this
town. They assemble every Sunday in meeting
houses, as simple as the dwelling of the people;
and there is but one priest on the whole island.
What would a good Portuguese observe ? — But
one single priest to instruct a whole island, and
to direct their consciences ! It is even so ; each
individual knows how to guide his own, and is
content to do it, as well as he can. This lonely
clergyman is a Presbyterian minister, who has a
very large and respectable congregation; the
other is composed of Quakers, who you know
admit of no particular person, who in conse
quence

AT NANTUCKET. 193
quence of being ordained becomes exclusively
entitled to preach, to catechise, and to receive
certain salaries for his trouble. Among them,
every one may expound the scriptures, who
thinks he is called so to do ; beside, as they ad
mit of neither sacrament, baptism, nor any
other outward forms whatever, such a man
would be useless. Most of these people are
continually at sea, and have often the most
urgent reasons to worship the Parent of Nature
in the midst of the storms which they encounter.
These two sects live in perfect peace and har
mony with each other; those ancient times of
religious discords are now gone (I hope never
to return) when each thought it meritorious, not
only to damn the other, which would have been
nothing, but to persecute and murther one an
other, for the glory of that Being, who requires
no more of us, than that we should love one an
other and live! Every one goes to that place
of worship which he likes best, and thinks not
that his neighbour does wrong by not following
him; each busily employed in their temporal
affairs, is less vehement about spiritual ones,
and fortunately you will find at Nantucket
neither idle drones, voluptuous devotees, rant
ing enthusiasts, nor sour demagogues. I wish
I had it in my power to send the most persecut
ing bigot I could find in  to the whale fish
eries ;

194 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
eries ; in less than three or four years you would
find him a much more tractable man, and there
fore a better Christian.
Singular as it may appear to you, there are
but two medical professors on the island; for
of what service can physic be in a primitive so
ciety, where the excesses of inebriation are so
rare ? What need of galenical medicines, where
fevers, and stomachs loaded by the loss of the
digestive powers, are so few? Temperance,
the calm of passions, frugality, and continual
exercise, keep them healthy, and preserve unim
paired that constitution which they have re
ceived from parents as healthy as themselves;
who in the unpolluted embraces of the earliest
and chastest love, conveyed to them the sound
est bodily frame which nature could give. But
as no habitable part of this globe is exempt
from some diseases, proceeding either from cli
mate or modes of living; here they are some
times subject to consumptions and to fevers.
Since the foundation of that town no epidemi
cal distempers have appeared, which at times
cause such depopulations in other countries;
many of them are extremely well acquainted
with the Indian methods of curing simple dis
eases, and practice them with success. You will
hardly find any where a community, composed
of the same number of individuals, possessing such

AT NANTUCKET. 195
such uninterrupted health, and exhibiting so
many green old men, who shew their advanced
age by the maturity of their wisdom, rather
than by the wrinkles of their faces ; and this is
indeed one of the principal blessings of the
island, which richly compensates their want of
the richer soils of the south; where iliac com
plaints and bilious fevers, grow by the side of
the sugar cane, the ambrosial ananas, &c. The
situation of this island, the purity of the air, the
nature of their marine occupations, their virtue
and moderation, are the causes of that vigour
and health which they possess. The poverty of
their soil has placed them, I hope, beyond the
danger of conquest, or the wanton desire of
extirpation. Were they to be driven from this
spot; the only acquisition of the conquerors
would be a few acres of land, inclosed and culti
vated ; a few houses, and some moveables. The
genius, the industry of the inhabitants would
accompany them; and it is those alone which
constitute the sole wealth of their island. Its
present fame would perish, and in a few years
it would return to its pristine state of barren
ness and poverty: they might perhaps be al
lowed to transport themselves in their own ves
sels to some other spot or island, which they
would soon fertilize by the same means with
which they have fertilized this. One

196 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
One single lawyer has of late years found
means to live here, but his best fortune pro
ceeds more from having married one of the
wealthiest heiresses of the island, than from the
emoluments of his practice : however he is some
times employed in recovering money lent on the
main, or in preventing those accidents to which
the contentious propensity of its inhabitants
may sometimes expose them. He is seldom
employed as the means of self-defence, and
much seldomer as the channel of attack; to
which they are strangers, except the fraud is
manifest, and the danger imminent. Lawyers
are so numerous in all our populous towns, that
I am surprised they never thought before of es
tablishing themselves here : they are plants that
will grow in any soil that is cultivated by the
hands of others; and when once they have
taken root they will extinguish every other
vegetable that grows around them. The for
tunes they daily acquire in every province, from
the misfortunes of their fellow-citizens, are
surprising ! The most ignorant, the most bung
ling member of that profession, will, if placed
in the most obscure part of the country, pro
mote litigiousness, and amass more wealth
without labour, than the most opulent farmer,
with all his toils. They have so dexterously
interwoven their doctrines and quirks, with the
laws

AT NANTUCKET. 197
laws of the land, or rather they are become so
necessary an evil in our present constitutions,
that it seems unavoidable and past all remedy.
What a pity that our forefathers, who happily
extinguished so many fatal customs, and ex
punged from their new government so many
errors and abuses, both religious and civil, did
not also prevent the introduction of a set of
men so dangerous! In some provinces, where
every inhabitant is constantly employed in
tilling and cultivating the earth, they are the
only members of society who have any knowl
edge ; let these provinces attest what iniquitous
use they have made of that knowledge. They
are here what the clergy were in past centuries
with you; the reformation which clipped the
clerical wings, is the boast of that age, and the
happiest event that could possibly happen; a
reformation equally useful is now wanted, to
relieve us from the shameful shackles and the
oppressive burthen under which we groan ; this
perhaps is impossible; but if mankind would
not become too happy, it were an event most
devoutly to be wished.
Here, happily, unoppressed with any civil
bondage, this society of fishermen and mer
chants live, without any military establish
ments, without governors or any masters but
the laws ; and their civil code is so light, that it
is

198 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
is never felt. A man may pass (as many have
done whom I am acquainted with) through
the various scenes of a long life, may struggle
against a variety of adverse fortune, peaceably
enjoy the good when it comes, and never in
that long interval, apply to the law either for
redress or assistance. The principal benefits it
confers is the general protection of individuals,
and this protection is purchased by the most
moderate taxes, which are chearfully paid, and
by the trifling duties incident in the course of
their lawful trade (for they despise contra
band) . Nothing can be more simple than their
municipal regulations, though similar to those
of the other counties of the same province;
because they are more detached from the rest,
more distinct in their manners, as well as in the
nature of the business they pursue, and more
unconnected with the populous province to
which they belong. The same simplicity at
tends the worship they pay to the Divinity;
their elders are the only teachers of their con
gregations, the instructors of their youth, and
often the example of their flock. They visit
and comfort the sick; after death, the society
bury them with their fathers, without pomp,
prayers, or ceremonies; not a stone or monu
ment is erected, to tell where any person was
buried ; their memory is preserved by tradition. The

AT NANTUCKET. 199
The only essential memorial that is left of
them, is their former industry, their kindness,
their charity, or else their most conspicuous
faults. The Presbyterians live in great charity with
them, and with one another; their minister as
a true pastor of the gospel, inculcates to them
the doctrines it contains, the rewards it prom
ises, the punishments it holds out to those who
shall commit injustice. Nothing can be more
disencumbered likewise from useless ceremonies
and trifling forms than their mode of worship ;
it might with great propriety have been called
a truly primitive one, had that of the Quakers
never appeared. As fellow Christians, obey
ing the same legislator, they love ahd mutually
assist each other in all their wants; as fellow
labourers they unite with cordiality, and with
out the least rancour in all their temporal
schemes: no other emulation appears among
them but in their sea excursions, in the art of
fitting out their vessels; in that of sailing, in
harpooning the whale, and in bringing home
the greatest harvest. As fellow subjects they
cheerfully obey the same laws, and pay the
same duties : but let me not forget another pe
culiar characteristic of this community : there is
not a slave I believe on the whole island, at
least among the Friends; whilst slavery pre
vails

200 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
vails all around them, this society alone, lament
ing that shocking insult offered to humanity,
have given the world a singular example of
moderation, distinterestedness, and Christian
charity, in emancipating their negroes. I shall
explain to you farther, the singular virtue and
merit to which it is so justly entitled by having
set before the rest of their fellow-subjects, so
pleasing, so edifying a reformation. Happy
the people who are subject to so mild a govern
ment; happy the government which has to rule
over such harmless, and such industrious sub
jects! While we are clearing forests, making the
face of nature smile, draining marshes, culti
vating wheat, and converting it into flour ; they
yearly skim from the surface of the sea riches
equally necessary. Thus, had I leisure and
abilities to lead you through this continent, I
could shew you an astonishing prospect very
little known in Europe; one diffusive scene of
happiness reaching from the sea-shores to the
last settlements on the borders of the wilder
ness: an happiness, interrupted only by the
folly of individuals, by our spirit of litigious
ness, and by those unforeseen calamities, from
which no human society can possibly be ex
empted. May the citizens of Nantucket dwell
long here in uninterrupted peace, undisturbed either

AT NANTUCKET. 201
either by the waves of the surrounding element,
or the political commotions which sometimes
agitate our continent.

LETTER

202 PECULIAR CUSTOMS
LETTER VIII.
PECULIAR CUSTOMS AT NANTUCKET.
THE manners of the Friends are en
tirely founded on that simplicity
which is their boast, and their most
distinguished characteristic ; and those manners
have acquired the authority of laws. Here
they are strongly attached to plainness of dress,
as well as to that of language; insomuch that
though some part of it may be ungrammatical,
yet should any person who was born and
brought up here, attempt to speak more cor
rectly, he would be looked upon as a fop or an
innovator. On the other hand, should a
stranger come here and adopt their idiom in
all its purity (as they deem it) this accomplish
ment would immediately procure him the most
cordial reception; and they would cherish him
like an ancient member of their society. So
many impositions have they suffered on this ac
count, that they begin now indeed to grow more
cautious. They are so tenacious of their an
cient habits of industry and frugality, that if
any of them were to be seen with a long coat
made

AT NANTUCKET. 203
made of English cloth, on any other than the
first-day (Sunday) he would be greatly ridi
culed and censured; he would be looked upon
as a careless spendthrift, whom it would be un
safe to trust, and in vain to relieve. A few
years ago two single-horse chairs were im
ported from Boston, to the great offence of
these prudent citizens; nothing appeared to
them more culpable than the use of such gaudy
painted vehicles, in contempt of the more use
ful and more simple single-horse carts of their
fathers. This piece of extravagant and un
known luxury, almost caused a schism, and set
every tongue a-going; some predicted the ap
proaching ruin of those families that had im
ported them; others feared the dangers of ex
ample ; never since the foundation of the town
had there happened any thing which so much
alarmed this primitive community. One of the
possessors of these profane chairs, filled with
repentance, wisely sent it back to the continent;
the other, more obstinate and perverse, in de
fiance to all remonstrances, persisted in the use
of his chair until by degrees they became more
reconciled to it; though I observed that the
wealthiest and the most respectable people still
go to meeting or to their farms in a single-
horse cart with a decent awning fixed over it :
indeed, if you consider their sandy soil, and the
badness

204 PECULIAR CUSTOMS
badness of their roads, these appear to be the
best contrived vehicles for this island.
Idleness is the most heinous sin that can be
committed in Nantucket: an idle man would
soon be pointed out as an object of compassion:
for idleness is considered as another word for
want and hunger. This principle is so thor
oughly well understood, and is become so uni
versal, so prevailing a prejudice, that literally
speaking, they are never idle. Even if they go
to the market-place, which is (if I may be al
lowed the expression) the coffee-house of the
town, either to transact business, or to converse
with their friends ; they always have a piece of
cedar in their hands, and while they are talking,
they will, as it were instinctively, employ them
selves in converting it into something useful,
either in making bungs or spoyls for their oil
casks, or other useful articles. I must confess,
that I have never seen more ingenuity in the
use of the knife; thus the most idle moments
of their lives become usefully employed. In
the many hours of leisure which their long
cruises afford them, they cut and carve a variety
of boxes and pretty toys, in wood, adapted to
different uses; which they bring home as testi
monies of remembrance to their wives or sweet
hearts. They have shewed me a variety of lit
tle bowls and other implements, executed
cooper-wise,

AT NANTUCKET. 205
cooper-wise, with the greatest neatness and ele
gance. You will be pleased to remember they
are all brought up to the trade of coopers, be
their future intentions or fortunes what they
may; therefore almost every man in this island
has always two knives in his pocket, one much
larger than the other ; and though they hold
every thing that is called fashion in the utmost
contempt, yet they are as difficult to please, and
as extravagant in the choice and price of their
knives, as any young buck in Boston would be
about his hat, buckles, or coat. As soon as a
knife is injured, or superceded by a more con
venient one, it is carefully laid up in some cor
ner of their desk. I once saw upwards of fifty
thus preserved at Mr.  's, one of the
worthiest men on this island; and among the
whole, there was not one that perfectly re
sembled another. As the sea excursions are
often very long, their wives in their absence,
are necessarily obliged to transact business, to
settle accounts, and in short, to rule and pro
vide for their families. These circumstances
being often repeated, give women the abilities
as well as a taste for that kind of superinten
dency, to which, by their prudence and good
management, they seem to be in general very
equal. This employment ripens their judge
ment, and justly entitles them to a rank su
perior

206 PECULIAR CUSTOMS
perior to that of other wives; and this is the
principal reason why those of Nantucket as
well as those of Montreal* are so fond of so
ciety, so affable, and so conversant with the
affairs of the world. The men at their return,
weary with the fatigues of the sea, full of con
fidence and love, chearfully give their consent
to every transaction that has happened during
their absence, and all is joy and peace. "Wife,
thee hast done well," is the general approba
tion they receive, for their application and in
dustry. What would the men do without the
agency of these faithful mates? The absence
of so many of them at particular seasons, leaves
the town quite desolate ; and this mournful situ
ation disposes the women to go to each other's
house much oftener than when their husbands
are at home: hence the custom of incessant
visiting has infected every one, and even those
whose husbands do not go abroad. The house
is always cleaned before they set out, and with
peculiar alacrity they pursue their intended
visit, which consists of a social chat, a dish of
tea, and an hearty supper. When the good
man of the house returns from his labour, he
peaceably
* Most of the merchants and young men of Montreal,
spend the greatest part of their time in trading with the
Indians, at an amazing distance from Canada; and it
often happens that they are three years together absent
from home.

AT NANTUCKET. 207
peaceably goes after his wife and brings her
home; mean while the young fellows, equally
vigilant, easily find out which is the most con
venient house, and there they assemble with the
girls of the neighbourhood. Instead of cards,
musical instruments, or songs, they relate
stories of their whaling voyages, their various
sea adventures, and talk of the different coasts
and people they have visited. "The island of
" Catharine in the Brazil, says one, is a very
" droll island, it is inhabited by none but men;
" women are not permitted to come in sight of
" it ; not a woman is there on the whole island.
" Who among us is not glad it is not so here?
" The Nantucket girls and boys beat the
" world." At this innocent sally the titter goes
round, they whisper to one another their spon
taneous reflections: puddings, pyes, and cust
ards never fail to be produced on such occa
sions; for I believe there never were any peo
ple in their circumstances, who live so well,
even to superabundance. As inebriation is un
known, and music, singing, and dancing, are
held in equal detestation, they never could fill
all the vacant hours of their lives without the
repast of the table. Thus these young people
sit and talk, and divert themselves as well as
they can; if any one has lately returned from
a cruise, he is generally the speaker of the
night;

208 PECULIAR CUSTOMS
night; they often all laugh and talk together,
but they are happy, and would not exchange
their pleasures for those of the most brilliant
assemblies in Europe. This lasts until the
father and mother return; when all retire to
their respective homes, the men reconducting
the partners of their affections.
Thus they spend many of the youthful even
ings of their lives; no wonder therefore, that
they marry so early. But no sooner have they
undergone this ceremony than they cease to ap
pear so chearful and gay; the new rank they
hold in the society impresses them with more
serious ideas than were entertained before. The
title of master of a family necessarily requires
more solid behaviour and deportment; the new
wife follows in the trammels of Custom, which
are as powerful as the tyranny of fashion^he
gradually advises and directs; the new husband
soon goes to sea, he leaves her to learn and ex
ercise the new government, in which she is en
tered. Those who stay at home are full as
passive in general, at least with regard to the
inferior departments of the family. But you
must not imagine from this account that the
Nantucket wives are turbulent, of high temper,
and difficult to be ruled; on the contrary, the
wives of Sherburn in so doing, comply only
with the prevailing custom of the island: the
husbands,

AT NANTUCKET. 209
husbands, equally submissive to the ancient and
respectable manners of their country, submit,
without ever suspecting that there can be any
impropriety. Were they to behave otherwise,
they would be afraid of subverting the prin
ciples of their society by altering its ancient
rules: thus both parties are perfectly satisfied,
and all is peace and concord. The richest per
son now in the island owes all his present pros
perity and success to the ingenuity of his wife :
this is a known fact which is well recorded ; for
while he was performing his first cruises, she
traded with pins and needles, and kept a school.
Afterward she purchased more considerable
articles, which she sold with so much judge
ment, that she laid the foundation of a system
of business, that she has ever since prosecuted
with equal dexterity and success. She wrote to
London, formed connections, and, in short, be
came the only ostensible instrument of that
house, both at home and abroad. Who is he in
this country, and who is a citizen of Nantucket
or Boston, who does not know Aunt Kesiah?
I must tell you that she is the wife of Mr.
C  n, a very respectable man, who, well
pleased with all her schemes, trusts to her
judgement, and relies on her sagacity, with so
entire a confidence, as to be altogether passive
to the concerns of his family. They have the
best

210 PECULIAR CUSTOMS
best country seat on the island, at Quayes,
where they live with hospitality, and in perfect
union: He seems to be altogether the con
templative man.
To this dexterity in managing the husband's
business whilst he is absent, the Nantucket
wives unite a great deal of industry. They
spin, or cause to be spun in their houses, abun
dance of wool and flax; and would be for ever
disgraced and looked upon as idlers if all the
family were not clad in good, neat, and suffi
cient homespun cloth. First Days are the only
seasons when it is lawful for both sexes to ex
hibit some garments of English manufacture;
even these are of the most moderate price, and
of the gravest colours: there is no kind of dif
ference in their dress, they are all clad alike,
and resemble in that respect the members of
one family.
A singular custom prevails here among the
women, at which I was greatly surprized; and
am really at a loss how to account for the orig
inal cause that has introduced in this primitive
society so remarkable a fashion, or rather so
extraordinary a want. They have adopted these
many years, the Asiatic custom of taking a dose
of opium every morning; and so deeply rooted
is it, that they would be at a loss how to live
without this indulgence; they would rather be
deprived

AT NANTUCKET. 211
deprived of any necessary than forego their
favourite luxury. This is much more prevail
ing among the women than the men, few of the
latter having caught the contagion ; though the
sheriff, whom I may call the first person in the
island, who is an eminent physician beside, and
whom I had the pleasure of being well ac
quainted with, has for many years submitted
to this custom. He takes three grains of it
every day after breakfast, without the effects of
which, he often told me, he was not able to
transact any business.
It is hard to conceive how a people always
happy and healthy, in consequence of the ex
ercise and labour they undergo, never op
pressed with the vapours of idleness, yet should
want the fictitious effects of opium to preserve
that chearfulness to which their temperance,
their climate, their happy situation so justly
entitle them. But where is the society perfectly
free from error or folly ; the least imperfect is
undoubtedly that where the greatest good pre
ponderates; and agreeable to this rule, I can
truly say, that I never was acquainted with a
less vicious, or more harmless one.
The majority of the present inhabitants are
the descendants of the twenty-seven first pro
prietors, who patenteed the island ; of the rest,
many others have since come over among them,
chiefly

212 PECULIAR CUSTOMS
chiefly from the Massachusets : here are neither
Scotch, Irish, nor French, as is the case in most
other settlements ; they are an unmixed English
breed. The consequence of this extended con
nexion is, that they are all in some degree re
lated to each other : you must not be surprized
therefore when I tell you, that they always call
each other cousin, uncle or aunt; which are be
come such common appellations, that no other
are made use of in their daily intercourse: you
would be deemed stiff and affected were you to
refuse conforming yourself to this ancient cus
tom, which truly depicts the image of a large
family. The many who reside here that have
not the least claim of relationship with any one
in the town, yet by the power of custom make
use of no other address in their conversation.
Were you here yourself but a few days, you
would be obliged to adopt the same phrase
ology, which is far from being disagreeable, as
it implies a general acquaintance and friend
ship, which connects them all in unity and
peace. Their taste for fishing has been so prevailing,,
that it has engrossed all their attention^ aml_
even prevented them from introducing some
higher degree of perfection in their agriculture.
There are many useful improvements which
might have meliorated their soil; there are
many

AT NANTUCKET. 213
many trees which if transplanted here would
have thriven extremely well, and would have
served to shelter as well as decorate the fa
vourite spots they have so carefully manured.
The red cedar, the locust*, the button wood,
I am persuaded would have grown here rapidly
and to a great size, with many others; but their
thoughts are turned altogether toward the sea.
The Indian corn begins to yield them consider
able crops, and the wheat sown on its stocks is
become a very profitable grain; rye will grow
with little care; they might raise if they would,
an immense quantity of buck-wheat.
Such an island inhabited as I have described,
is not the place where gay travellers should re
sort, in order to enjoy that variety of pleasures
the more splendid towns of this continent af
ford. Not that they are wholly deprived of
what we might call recreations, and innocent
pastimes ; but opulence, instead of luxuries and
extravagancies, produces nothing more here
than an increase of business, an additional de
gree of hospitality, greater neatness in the prep
aration of dishes, and better wines. They often
walk and converse with each other, as I have
observed before; and upon extraordinary oc
casions,

* A species of what we call here the two-thorn acacia :
it yields the most valuable timber we have, and its shade
is very beneficial to the growth and goodness of the grass.

214 PECULIAR CUSTOMS
casions, will take a ride to Palpus, where there
is an house of entertainment; but these rural
amusements are conducted upon the same plan
of moderation, as those in town. They are so
simple as hardly to be described; the pleasure
of going and returning together; of chatting
and walking about, of throwing the bar, heav
ing stones, &c. are the only entertainments they
are acquainted with. This is all they practice,
and all they seem to desire. The house at Pal
pus is the general resort of those who possess
the luxury of a horse and chaise^ as well as of
those who still retain, as the majority do, a pre
dilection for their primitive vehicle. By resort
ing to that place they enjoy a change of air,
they taste the pleasures of exercise ; perhaps an
exhilirating bowl, not at all improper in this
climate, affords the chief indulgence known to
these people, on the days of their greatest fes
tivity? The mounting a horse, must afford a
most pleasing exercise to those men who are
so much at sea. I was once invited to that
house, and had the satisfaction of conducting
thither one of the many beauties of that island
(for it abounds with handsome women)
dressed in all the bewitching attire of the most
charming simplicity: like the rest of the com
pany, she was chearful without loud laughs,
and smiling without affectation. They all ap
peared

AT NANTUCKET. 215
peared gay without levity. I had never before
in my life seen so much unaffected mirth, mixed
with so much modesty. The pleasures of the
day were enjoyed with the greatest liveliness
and the most innocent freedom; no disgusting
pruderies, no coquetish airs tarnished this en
livening assembly: they behaved according to
their native dispositions, the only rules of
decorum with which they were acquainted.
What would an European visitor have done
here without a fiddle, without a dance, without
cards ? He would have called it an insipid as
sembly, and ranked this among the dullest days
he had ever spent. This rural excursion had a
very great affinity to those practiced in our
province, with this difference only, that we have
no objection to the sportive dance, though con
ducted by the rough accents of some self-taught
African fidler. We returned as happy as we
went; and the brightness of the moon kindly
lengthened a day which had past, like other
agreeable ones, with singular rapidity.
In order to view the island in its longest di
rection from the town, I took a ride to the east
ernmost parts of it, remarkable only for the
Pochick Rip, where their best fish are caught.
I past by the Tetoukemah lots, which are the
fields of the community; the fences were made
of cedar posts and rails, and looked perfectly straight

216 PECULIAR CUSTOMS
straight and neat; the various crops they en
closed were flourishing : thence I descended into
Barrey's Valley, where the blue and the spear
grass looked more abundant than I had seen on
any other part of the island; thence to Gib's
Pond; and arrived at last at Siasconcet. Sev
eral dwellings had been erected on this wild
shore, for the purpose of sheltering the fisher
men in the season of fishing ; I found them all
empty, except that particular one, to which I
had been directed. It was like the others, built
on the highest part of the shore, in the face of
the great ocean; the soil appeared to be com
posed of no other stratum but sand, covered
Avith a thinly scattered herbage. What ren
dered this house still more worthy of notice in
my eyes, was, that it had been built on the ruins
of one of the ancient huts, erected by the first
settlers, for observing the appearance of the
whales. Here lived a single family without a
neighbour ; I had never before seen a spot bet
ter calculated to cherish contemplative ideas;
perfectly unconnected with the great world,
and far removed from its perturbations. The
ever raging ocean was all that presented itself
to the view of this family; it irresistibly at
tracted my whole attention : my eyes were in
voluntarily directed to the horizontal line of
that watery surface, which is ever in motion, and

AT NANTUCKET. 217
and ever threatening destruction to these
shores. My ears were stunned with the roar
of its waves rolling one over the other, as if im
pelled by a superior force to overwhelm the
spot on which I stood. My nostrils invol
untarily inhaled the saline vapours which arose
from the dispersed particles of the foaming bil
lows, or from the weeds scattered on the shores.
My mind suggested a thousand vague reflec
tions, pleasing in the hour of their spontaneous
birth, but now half forgot, and all indistinct:
and who is the landman that can behold with
out affright so singular an element, which by
its impetuosity seems to be the destroyer of this
poor planet, yet at particular times accumulates
the scattered fragments and produces islands
and continents fit for men to dwell on ! Who
can observe the regular vicissitudes of its waters
without astonishment ; now swelling themselves
in order to penetrate through every river and
opening, and thereby facilitate navigation; at
other times retiring from the shores, to permit
man to collect that variety of shell fish which is
the support of the poor? Who can see the
storms of wind, blowing sometimes with an
impetuosity sufficiently strong even to move the
earth, without feeling himself affected beyond
the sphere of common ideas? Can this wind
which but a few days ago refreshed our Amer ican

218 PECULIAR CUSTOMS
ican fields, and cooled us in the shade, be the
same element which now and then so power
fully convulses the waters of the sea, dismasts
vessels, causes so many shipwrecks, and such ex
tensive desolations? How diminutive does a
man appear to himself when filled with these
thoughts, and standing as I did on the verge of
the ocean ! ./This family lived entirely by fish-
ingr for the plough has not dared yet to disturb
the parched surface of the neighbouring plain;
and to what purpose could this operation be
performed ! Where is it that mankind will not
find safety, peace, and abundance, with free
dom and civil happiness ? Nothing was want
ing here to make this a most philosophical re
treat, but a few ancient trees, to shelter contem
plation in its beloved solitude. There I saw a
numerous family of children of various ages —
the blessings of an early marriage ;jthey were
ruddy as the cherry, healthy as the fish they
lived on,, hardy as the pine knots: the eldest
were already able to encounter the boisterous
waves, and shuddered not at their approach;
early initiating themselves in the mysteries of
that seafaring career, for which they were all
intended : the younger, timid as yet, on the edge
of a less agitated pool, were teaching them
selves with nut-shells and pieces of wood, in
imitation of boats, how to navigate in a future day

AT NANTUCKET. 219
day the larger vessels of their father, through
a rougher and deeper ocean. I staid two days
there on purpose to become acquainted with
the different branches of their ceconomy, and
their manner of living in this singular retreat.
The clams, the oysters of the shores, with the
addition of Indian Dumplings*, constituted
their daily and most substantial food. Larger
fish were often caught on the neighbouring rip ;
these afforded them their greatest dainties ; they
had likewise plenty of smoked bacon. The
noise of the wheels announced the industry of
the mother and daughters; one of them had
been bred a weaver, and having a loom in the
house, found means of cloathing the whole
family ; they were perfectly at ease, and seemed
to want for nothing. I found very few books
among these people, who have very little time
for reading; the Bible and a few school tracts,
both in the Nattick and English languages, con
stituted their most numerous libraries. I saw
indeed several copies of Hudibras, and Jo
sephus; but no one knows who first imported
them. It is something extraordinary to see this
people, professedly so grave, and strangers to
everv branch of literature, reading with pleas
ure the former work, which should seem to re
quire
* Indian Dumplings, are a peculiar preparation of In
dian meal, boiled in large lumps.

220 PECULIAR CUSTOMS
quire some degree of taste, and antecedent his
torical knowledge. They all read it much, and
can by memory repeat many passagesf^which
yet I could not discover that they understood
the beauties of. Is it not a little singular to see
these books in the hands of fishermen, who are
perfect strangers almost to any other? Jo-
sephus's history is indeed intelligible, and much
fitter for their modes of education and taste;
as it describes the history of a people from
whom we have received the prophecies which
we believe, and the religious laws which we
follow. Learned travellers, returned from seeing the
paintings and antiquities of Rome and Italy,
still filled with the admiration and reverence
they inspire ; would hardly be persuaded that so
contemptible a spot, which contains nothing re
markable but the genius and the industry of its
inhabitants, could ever be an object worthy at
tention. But I, having never seen the beauties
which Europe contains, chearfully satisfy my
self with attentively examining what my native
country exhibits: if we have neither ancient
amphitheatres, gilded palaces, nor elevated
spires; we enjoy in our woods a substantial
happiness which the wonders of art cannot com
municate^ None among us suffer oppression
either from government or religion; there are
very

AT NANTUCKET. 221
very few poor except the idle, and fortunately
the force of example, and the most ample en
couragement, soon create a new principle of
activity, which had been extinguished perhaps
in their native country, for want of those op
portunities which so often compel honest Euro
peans to seek shelter among us. The means of
procuring subsistence in Europe are limited ; the
army may be full, the navy may abound with
seamen, the land perhaps wants no additional
labourers, the manufacturer is overcharged
with supernumerary hands ; what then must be
come of the unemployed? Here, on the con
trary, human industry has acquired a boundless
field to exert itself in — a field which will not be
fully cultivated in many ages ! j?op>Do *" (€¦»*»*

LETTER

222 DESCRIPTION OF

LETTER IX.
DESCRIPTION OF CHARLES-TOWN; THOUGHTS
ON SLAVERY; ON PHYSICAL EVIL; A MELAN
CHOLY SCENE.
CHARLES-TOWN is, in the north,
what Lima is in the south; both are
Capitals of the richest provinces of
their respective hemispheres: you may there
fore conjecture, that both cities must exhibit
the appearances necessarily resulting from
riches. Peru abounding in gold, Lima is filled
with inhabitants who enjoy all those gradations
of pleasure, refinement, and luxury, which pro
ceed from wealth. Carolina produces com
modities, more valuable perhaps than gold, be
cause they are gained by greater industry; it
exhibits also on our northern stage, a display of
riches and luxury, inferior indeed to the for
mer, but far superior to what are to be seen in
our northern towns. Its situation is admirable,
being built at the confluence of two large rivers,
which receive in their course a great number of
inferior streams; all navigable in the spring,
for flat boats. Here the produce of this ex
tensive

CHARLES-TOWN. 223
tensive territory concentres; here therefore is
the seat of the most valuable exportation ; their
wharfs, their docks, their magazines, are ex
tremely convenient to facilitate this great com
mercial business. The inhabitants are the gay
est in America; it is called the centre of our
beau monde, and it always filled with the richest
planters of the province, who resort hither in
quest of health and pleasure. Here are always
to be seen a great number of valetudinarians
from the West-Indies, seeking for the renova
tion of health, exhausted by the debilitating
nature of their sun, air, and modes of living.
Many of these West-Indians have I seen, at
thirty, loaded with the infirmities of old age;
for nothing is more common in those countries
of wealth, than for persons to lose the abilities
of enjoying the comforts of life, at a time when
we northern men just begin to taste the fruits
of our labour and prudence. The round of
pleasure, and the expences of those citizens'
tables, are much superior to what you would
imagine: indeed the growth of this town and
province has been astonishingly rapid. It is
pity that the narrowness of the neck on which
it stands prevents it from increasing ; and which
is the reason why houses are so dear. The heat
of the climate, which is sometimes very great
in the interior parts of the country, is always
temperate

224 DESCRIPTION OF
temperate in Charles-Town ; though sometimes
when they have no sea breezes the sun is too
powerful. The climate renders excesses of all
kinds very dangerous, particularly those of the
table ; and yet, insensible or fearless of danger,
they live on, and enjoy a short and a merry
life: the,, rays of their sun seem to urge them
irresistably to dissipation and pleasure: on the
contrary, the women, from being abstemious,
reach to a longer period of life, and seldom die
without having had several husbands. An
European at his first arrival must be greatly
surprised when he sees the elegance of their
houses, their sumptuous furniture, as well as
the magnificence of their tables can he imagine
himself in a country, the establishment of which
is so recent?
The three principal classes of inhabitants
are, lawyers, planters, and merchants; this is
the province which has afforded to the first the
richest spoils, for nothing can exceed their
wealth, their power, and their influence. They
have reached the ne plus ultra of worldly
felicity; no plantation is secured, no title is
good, no will is valid, but what they dictate,
¦regulate, and approve. The whole mass of
• provincial property is become tributary to this
'society; which, far above priests and bishops,
disdain to be satisfied with the poor Mosaical portion

CHARLES-TOWN. 225
portion of the tenth. I appeal to the many in- *
habitants, who, while contending perhaps for
their right to a few hundred acres, have lost by
the mazes of the law their whole patrimony.
These men are more properly law givers than -
interpreters of the law; and have united here, ¦
as well as in most other provinces, the skill and >
dexterity of the scribe with the power and am- -
bition of the prince: who can tell where this -
may lead in a future day? The nature of our *
laws, and the spirit of freedom, which often -
tends to make us litigious, must necessarily
throw the greatest part of the property of the ".
colonies into the hands of these gentlemen. In
another century, the law will possess in the
north, what now the church possesses in Peru
and Mexico.!
While all is joy, festivity, and happiness in
Charles-Town, would you imagine that scenes
of misery overspread in the country? Their
ears by habit are become deaf, their hearts
are hardened; they neither see, hear, nor feel
for the woes of their poor slaves, from whose
painful labours all their wealth proceeds. Here
the horrors of slavery, the hardship of inces
sant toils, are unseen; and no one thinks with
compassion of those showers of sweat and
of tears which from the bodies of Africans,
daily drop, and moisten the ground they till.
The

226 REFLECTIONS ON
The cracks of the whip urging these miserable
beings to excessive labour, are far too distant
from the gay Capital to be heard. The chosen
race eat, drink, and live happy, while the un
fortunate one grubs up the ground, raises in
digo, or husks the rice; exposed to a sun full
as scorching as their native one; without the
support of good food, without the cordials
of any chearing liquor. This great contrast
has often afforded me subjects of the mqst af
flicting meditation. On the one side,, behold
a people enjoying all that life affords most
bewitching and pleasurable, without . labour,
without fatigue, hardly subjected to the trouble
of wishing. With gold, dug from Peruvian
mountains, they order vessels to the coasts of
Guinea; by virtue of that gold, wars, murders,
and devastations are committed in some harm
less, peaceable African neighbourhood, where
dwelt innocent people, who even knew not but
that all men were black. The daughter torn
from her weeping mother, the child from the
wretched parents, the wife from the loving
husband; whole families swept away and
brought through storms and tempests to this
rich metropolis ! There, arranged like horses
at a fair, they are branded like cattle, and then
driven to toil, to starve, and to languish for a
few years on the different plantations of these
citizens

NEGRO SLAVERY. 227
citizens. And for whom must they work?
For persons they know not, and who have
no other power over them than that of vio
lence; no other right than what this accursed
metal has given them ! Strange order of things !
Oh, Nature, where art thou? — Are not these
blacks thy children as well as we? On the
other side, nothing is to be seen but the most
diffusive misery and wretchedness, unrelieved
even in thought or wish! Day after day they
drudge on without any prospect of ever reap
ing for themselves; they are obliged to devote
their lives, their limbs, their will, and every
vital exertion to swell the wealth of masters;
who look not upon them with half the kind
ness and affection with which they consider
their dogs and horses. Kindness and affection
are not the portion of those who till the earth,
who carry the burdens, who convert the logs
into useful boards. This reward, simple and
natural as one would conceive it, would border
on humanity; and planters must have none
of it!
If negroes are permitted to become fathers,
this fatal indulgence only tends to increase their
misery: the poor companions of their scanty
pleasures are likewise the companions of their
labours; and when at some critical seasons
they could wish to see them relieved, with tears in

228 REFLECTIONS ON
in their eyes they behold them perhaps doubly
oppressed, obliged to bear the burden of na
ture — a fatal present — as well as that of un
abated tasks. How many have I seen cursing
the irresistible propensity, and regretting, that
by having tasted of those harmless joys, they
had become the authors of double misery to
their wives. Like their masters, they are not
permitted to partake of those ineffable sensa
tions with which nature inspires the hearts of
fathers and mothers ; they must repel them all,
and become callous and passive. This un
natural state often occasions the most acute, the
most pungent of their afflictions; they have no
time, like us, tenderly to rear their helpless off
spring, to nurse them on their knees, to enjoy
the delight of being parents. Their paternal
fondness is embittered by considering, that if
their children live, they must live to be slaves
like themselves ; no time is allowed them to ex
ercise their pious office, the mothers must fasten
them on their backs, and, with this double load,
follow their husbands in the fields, where they
too often hear no other sound than that of the
voice or whip of the task-master, and the cries
of their infants, broiling in the sun. These un
fortunate creatures cry and weep like their
parents, without a possibility of relief; the
very instinct of the brute, so laudable, so ir
resistible,

NEGRO SLAVERY. 229
resistible, runs counter here to their master's
interest; and to that god, all the laws of nature
must give way. Thus planters get rich ; so raw,
so unexperienced am I in this mode of life,
that were I to be possessed of a plantation, and
my slaves treated as in general they are here,
never could I rest in peace; my sleep would
be perpetually disturbed by a retrospect of
the frauds committed in Africa, in order to
entrap them; frauds surpassing in enormity
every thing which a common mind can possibly
conceive. I should be thinking of the barbar
ous treatment they meet with on ship-board; of
their anguish, of the despair necessarily in
spired by their situation, when torn from their
friends and relations; when delivered into the
hands of a people differently coloured, whom
they cannot understand; carried in a strange ma
chine over an ever agitated element, which they
had never seen before; and finally delivered
over to the severities of the whippers, and the
excessive labours of the field. Can it be pos
sible that the force of custom should ever make
me deaf to all these reflections, and as insen
sible to the injustice of that trade, and to their
miseries, as the rich inhabitants of this town
seem to be? What then is man; this being
who boasts so much of the excellence and dig- <
nity of his nature, among that variety of un-
scrutable

230 REFLECTIONS ON
'Scrutable mysteries, of unsolvable problems,
, with which he is surrounded ? The reason why
man has been thus created, is not the least
astonishing! It is said, I know that they are
much happier here than in the West-Indies; be
cause land being cheaper upon this continent
than in those islands, the fields allowed them to
raise their subsistence from, are in general more
extensive. The only possible chance of any
alleviation depends on the humour of the
planters, who, bred in the midst of slaves, learn
from the example of their parents to despise
them ; and seldom conceive either from religion
or philosophy, any ideas that tend to make
their fate less calamitous; except some strong
native tenderness of heart, some rays of philan
thropy, overcome the obduracy contracted by
habit. I have not resided here long enough to be
come insensible of pain for the objects which
I every day behold. In the choice of my
friends and acquaintance, I always endeavour
to find out those whose dispositions are some
what congenial with my own. We have slaves
likewise in our northern provinces; I hope the
time draws near when they will be all emanci
pated: but how different their lot, how differ
ent their situation, in every possible respect!
They enjoy as much liberty as their masters, they

NEGRO SLAVERY. 231
they are as well clad, and as well fed ; in health
and sickness they are tenderly taken care of;
they live under the same roof, and are, truly
speaking, a part of our families. Many of them
are taught to read and write, and are well in
structed in the principles of religion; they are
the companions of our labours, and treated as
such; they enjoy many perquisites, many estab
lished holidays, and are not obliged to work
more than white people. They marry where
inclination leads them; visit their wives every
week; are as decently clad as the common peo
ple ; they are indulged in educating, cherishing,
and chastising their children, who are taught
subordination to them as to their lawful
parents: in short, they participate in many of
the benefits of our society, without being
obliged to bear any of its burthens. They are
fat, healthy, and hearty, and far from repining
at their fate; they think themselves happier
than many of the lower class whites : they share
with their masters the wheat and meat pro
vision they help to raise ; many of those whom
the good Quakers have emancipated, have re
ceived that great benefit with tears of regret,
and have never quitted, though free, their for
mer masters and benefactors.
But is it really true, as I have heard it as
serted here, that those blacks are incapable of
feeling

23 2 REFLECTIONS ON
feeling the spurs of emulation, and the chearful
sound of encouragement? Byno means; there are
a thousand proofs existing of their gratitude
and fidelity: those hearts in which such noble
j dispositions can grow, are then like ours, they
are susceptible of every generous sentiment, of
every useful motive of action ; they are capable
of receiving lights, of imbibing ideas that
would greatly alleviate the weight of their
miseries. But what methods have in general
been made use of to obtain so desirable an end?
None; the day in which they arrive and are
sold, is the first of their labours ; labours, which
from that hour admit of no respite ; for though
indulged by law with relaxation on Sundays,
they are obliged to employ that time which is
intended for rest, to till their little plantations.
What can be expected from wretches in such
circumstances? Forced from their native
country, cruelly treated when on board, and
not less so on the plantations to which they
are driven; is there any thing in this treat
ment but what must kindle all the passions,
sow the seeds of inveterate resentment, and
nourish a wish of perpetual revenge? They
are left to the irresistible effects of those strong
and natural propensities; the blows they re
ceive are they conducive to extinguish them,
or to win their affections? They are neither
soothed

NEGRO SLAVERY. 233
soothed by the hopes that their slavery will
ever terminate but with their lives; or yet en
couraged by the goodness of their food, or the
mildness of their treatment. The very hopes
held out to mankind by religion, that conso
latory system, so useful to the miserable, are
never presented to them; neither moral nor
physical means are made use of to soften
their chains; they are left in their original and
untutored state; that very state where in the
natural propensities of revenge and warm pas
sions, are so soon kindled. Cheered by no one
single motive that can impel the will, or ex
cite their efforts; nothing but terrors and
punishments are presented to them; death is
denounced if they run away; horrid delacer-
ation if they speak with their native freedom;
perpetually awed by the terrible cracks of
whips, or by the fear of capital punishments,
while even those punishments often fail of
their purpose.
A clergyman settled a few years ago at
George-Town, and feeling as I do now, warmly
recommended to the planters, from the pulpit,
a relaxation of severity; he introduced the be
nignity of Christianity, and pathetically made
use of the admirable precepts of that system
to melt the hearts of his congregation into a
greater degree of compassion toward their
slaves

234 REFLECTIONS ON
slaves than had been hitherto customary; " Sir
" (said one of his hearers) we pay you a gen-
" teel salary to read to us the prayers of the
" liturgy, and to explain to us such parts of
" the Gospel as the rule of the church directs;
" but we do not want you to teach us what we
" are to do with our blacks." The clergyman
found it prudent to with-hold any farther ad
monition. Whence this astonishing right, or
rather this barbarous custom, for most certainly
we have no kind of right beyond that of force?
We are told, it is true, that slavery cannot be
so repugnant to human nature as we at first
imagine, because it has been practised in all
ages, and in all nations: the Lacedemonians
themselves, those great assertors of liberty,
conquered the Helotes with the design of
making them their slaves; the Romans, whom
we consider as our masters in civil and military
policy, lived in the exercise of the most horrid
oppression; they conquered to plunder and to
enslave. What a hideous aspect the face of the
earth must then have exhibited! Provinces,
towns, districts, often depopulated; their in
habitants driven to Rome, the greatest market
in the world, and there sold by thousands!
The Roman dominions were tilled by the hands
of unfortunate people, who had once been, like
their victors free, rich, and possessed of every
benefit

NEGRO SLAVERY. 235
benefit society can confer; until they became
subject to the cruel right of war, and to lawless
force. Is there then no superintending power
who conducts the moral operations of the
world, as well as the physical ? The same sub
lime hand which guides the planets round the
sun with so much exactness, which preserves
the arrangement of the whole with such exalted
wisdom and paternal care, and prevents the
vast system from falling into confusion; doth
it abandon mankind to all the errors, the fol
lies, and the miseries, which their most frantic
rage, and their most dangerous vices and pas
sions can produce ?
The history of the earth ! doth it present any »
thing but crimes of the most heinous nature, .
committed from one end of the world to the •
other? We observe avarice, rapine, and mur--
der,. equally prevailing in all parts. History-
perpetually tells us, of millions of people aban- -.
doned to the caprice of the maddest princes, >
and of whole nations devoted to the blind fury '
of tyrants. Countries destroyed; nations alter
nately buried in ruins by other nations; some
parts of the world beautifully cultivated, re
turned again to the pristine state; the fruits
of ages of industry, the toil of thousands in a
short time destroyed by a few! If one corner
breathes in peace for a few years, it is, in turn
subjected,

23 6 REFLECTIONS ON
subjected, torne, and levelled; one would al
most believe the principles of action in man,
considered as the first agent of this planet, to
be poisoned in their most essential parts. We
certainly are not that class of beings which we
vainly think ourselves to be ; man an animal of
prey, seems to have rapine and the love of
bloodshed implanted in his heart; nay, to hold
it the most honourable occupation in society:
we never speak of a hero of mathematics, a
hero of knowledge of humanity; no, this illus
trious appellation is reserved for the most suc
cessful butchers of the worlds If Nature has
given us a fruitful soil to inhabit, she has re
fused us such inclinations and propensities as
would afford us the full enjoyment of it. Ex
tensive as the surface of this planet is, not one
half of it is yet cultivated, not half replenished;
she created man, and placed him either in the
woods or plains, and provided him with pas
sions which must for ever oppose his happiness ;
every thing is submitted to the power of the
strongest ; men, like the elements, are always at
war; the weakest yield to the most potent;
force, subtilty, and malice, always triumph
over unguarded honesty, and simplicity. Be
nignity, moderation, and justice, are virtues
adapted only to the humble paths of life: we
love to talk of virtue and to admire its beauty, while

NEGRO SLAVERY. 237
while in the shade of solitude, and retirement;
but when we step forth into active life, if it
happen to be in competition with any passion
or desire, do we observe it to prevail? Hence
so many religious impostors have triumphed
over the credulity of mankind, and have ren
dered their frauds the creeds of succeeding gen
erations, during the course of many ages; until
worne away by time, they have been replaced
by new ones. Hence the most unjust war, if
supported by the greatest force, always suc
ceeds; hence the most just ones, when sup
ported only by their justice, as often fail. Such
is the ascendancy of power; the supreme ar
biter of all the revolutions which we observe
in this planet: so irresistible is power, that it
often thwarts the tendency of the most forcible
causes, and prevents their subsequent salutary
effects, though ordained for the good of man
by the Governor of the universe. Such is the
perverseness of human nature; who can de
scribe it in all its latitude ?
In the moments of our philanthropy we
often talk of an indulgent nature, a kind
parent, who for the benefit of mankind has
taken singular pains to vary the genera of
plants, fruits, grain, and the different produc
tions of the earth; and has spread peculiar
blessings in each climate. This is undoubtedly an

23 8 REFLECTIONS ON
an object of contemplation which calls forth
our warmest gratitude; for so singularly
benevolent have those parental intentions been,
that where barrenness of soil or severity of cli
mate prevail, there she has implanted in the
heart of man, sentiments which over-balance
every misery, and supply the place of every
want. She has given to the inhabitants of
these regions, an attachment to their savage
rocks and wild shores, unknown to those who
inhabit the fertile fields of the temperate zone.
* Yet if we attentively view this globe, will it not
' appear rather a place of punishment, than of
• delight ? And what misfortune L that, those
punishments should fall on the innocent^and its
_few delights be enjoyed by the most unworthy.
Famine, diseases, elementary convulsions, hu
man feuds, dissensions, &c. are the produce of
every cIImatFf~each~~climate produces^ besides,
vices, and miseries peculiar to its latitude. View
the frigid sterility of the north, whose famished
inhabitants hardly acquainted with the sun, live
and fare worse than the bears they hunt: and to
which they are superior only in the faculty of
speaking. View the arctic and antarctic re
gions, those huge voids, where nothing lives;
regions of eternal snow: where winter in all
his horrors has established his throne, and ar
rested every creative power of nature. Will you

NEGRO SLAVERY. 239
you call the miserable stragglers in these coun
tries by the name of men? Now contrast this
frigid power of the north and south with that
of the sun; examine the parched lands of the
torrid zone, replete with sulphureous exhala
tions; view those countries of Asia subject to
pestilential infections which lay nature waste;
view this globe often convulsed both from
within and without ; pouring forth from several
mouths, rivers of boiling matter, which are im
perceptibly leaving immense subterranean
graves, wherein millions will one day perish!
Look at the poisonous soil of the equator, at
those putrid slimy tracks, teeming with hor
rid monsters, the enemies of the human race;
look next at the sandy continent, scorched per
haps by the fatal approach of some ancient
comej^now the abode of desolation. Examine
tKerains, the convulsive storms of those cli-
.mates, where masses of sulphur, bitumen, and
electrical fire, combining their dreadful powers,
are incessantly hovering and bursting over a
globe threatened with dissolution. On this
little shell, how very few are the spots where
man can live and flourish? even under those
mild climates which seem to breathe peace and
happiness, the poison of slavery, the fury of
despotism, and the rage of superstition, are all
combined against man! There only the few
live

240 REFLECTIONS ON
live and rule, whilst the many starve and utter
ineffectual complaints : there, human nature ap
pears more debased, perhaps than in the less
favoured climates. The fertile plains of Asia,
the rich low lands of Egypt and of Diarbeck,
the fruitful fields bordering on the Tigris and
the Euphrates, the extensive country of the
East-Indies in all its separate districts ; all these
must to the geographical eye, seem as if in
tended for terrestrial paradises : but though sur
rounded with the spontaneous riches of nature
though her kindest favours seem to be shed on
those beautiful regions with the most profuse
hand; yet there in general we find the most
wretched people in the world. _ Almost every
where, liberty so natural to mankind, is refused,
or rather enjoyed but by their tyrants ; the word
slave, is the appellation of every rank, who adore
as a divinity, a being worse than themselves;
subject to every caprice, and to every lawless
rage which unrestrained power can give. Tears
are shed, perpetual groans are heard, where
only the accents of peace, alacrity, and grati
tude should resound. There the very delirium
of tyranny tramples on the best gifts of nature,
and sports with the fate, the happiness, the
lives of millions: there the extreme fertility of
the ground always indicates the extreme misery
of the inhabitants ! Every

NEGRO SLAVERY. 241
Every where one part of the human species
are taught the art of shedding the blood of
the other; of setting fire to their dwellings;
of levelling the works of their industry : half of
the existence of nations regularly employed in
destroying other nations. What little political
felicity is to be met with here and there, has
cost oceans of blood to purchase; as if good
was never to be the portion of unhappy man.
Republics, kingdoms, monarchies, founded
either on fraud or successful violence, increase
by pursuing the steps of the same policy, un
til they are destroyed in their turn, either by
the influence of their own crimes, or by more
successful but equally criminal enemies.
If from this general review of human na
ture, we descend to the examination of what is
called civilized society; there the combination
of every natural and artifical want, makes us
pay very dear for what little share of political
felicity we enjoy. It is a strange heterogeneous
assemblage of vices and virtues, and of a va
riety of other principles, for ever at war, for
ever jarring for ever producing some danger
ous, some distressing extreme. Where do you •
conceive then that nature intended we should be -
happy? Would you prefer the state of men -
in the woods, to that of men in a more im- .
proved situation ? Evil preponderates in both ; ,
in

242 HORRID TREATMENT OF
in the first they often eat each other for want of
food, and in the other they often starve each
other for want of room. For my part, I think
the vices and miseries to be found in the latter,
exceed those of the former; in which real evil
is more scarce, more supportable, and less
enormous. Yet we wish to see the earth peo
pled; to accomplish the happiness of kingdoms,
which is said to consist in numbers. Gracious
God! to what end is the introduction of so
many beings into a mode of existence in which
they must grope amidst as many errors, com
mit as many crimes, and meet with as many
diseases, wants, and sufferings !
The following scene will I hope account for
these melancholy reflections, and apologize for
the gloomy thoughts with which I have filled
this letter: my mind is, and always has been,
oppressed since I became a witness to it. I was
not long since invited to dine with a planter
who lived three miles from  , where he
then resided. In order to avoid the heat of the
sun, I resolved to go on foot, sheltered in a
small path, leading through a pleasant wood.
I was leisurely travelling along, attentively ex
amining some peculiar plants which I had col
lected, when all at once I felt the air strongly
agitated; though the day was perfectly calm
and sultry. I immediately cast my eyes to
ward

A NEGRO SLAVE. 243
ward the cleared ground, from which I was
but at a small distance, in order to see whether
it was not occasioned by a sudden shower ; when
at that instant a sound resembling a deep rough
voice, uttered, as I thought, a few inarticulate
monosyllables. Alarmed and surprized, I pre
cipitately looked all round, when I perceived at
about six rods distance something resembling a
cage, suspended to the limbs of a tree ; all the
branches of which appeared covered with large
birds of prey, fluttering about, and anxiously
endeavouring to perch on the cage. Actuated
by an involuntary motion of my hands, more
than by any design of my mind, I fired at them ;
they all flew to a short distance, with a most
hideous noise : when, horrid to think and pain
ful to repeat, I perceived a negro, suspended in
the cage, and left there to expire] I shudder
when I recollect that the birds had already
picked out his eyes, his cheek bones were bare ;
his arms had been attacked in several places,
and his body seemed covered with a multitude
of wounds. From the edges of the hollow
sockets and from the lacerations with which he
was disfigured, the blood slowly dropped, and
tinged the ground beneath. No sooner were
the birds flown, than swarms of insects covered
the whole body of this unfortunate wretch,
eager to feed on his mangled flesh and to drink his

244 HORRID TREATMENT OF
his blood. I found myself suddenly arrested
by the power of affright and terror^rlriy nerves
were convulsed; I trembled, I stood motion
less, involuntarily contemplating the fate of
this negro, in all its dismal latitude. The living
spectre, though deprived of his eyes, could still
distinctly hear, and in his uncouth dialect
begged me to give him some water to allay
his thirst. Humanity herself would have- re
coiled back with horror; she would have bal
anced whether to lessen such reliefless distress,
or mercifully with one blow to end this dread
ful scene of agonizing torture! Had I had a
ball in my gun, I certainly should have des
patched him ; but finding myself unable to per
form so kind an office, I sought, though trem
bling, to relieve him as well as I could. A shell
ready fixed to a pole, which had been used by
some negroes, presented itself to me; filled it
with water, and with trembling hands I guided
it to the quivering lips of the wretched sufferer.
Urged by the irresistible power of thirst, he
endeavoured to meet it, as he instinctively
guessed its approach by the noise it made in
passing through the bars of the cage. "Tanke,
" you white man, tanke you, pute some poy-
" son and give me." How long have you been
hanging there ? I asked him. " Two days,
"and me no die; the birds, the birds; aaah
"me!"

A NEGRO SLAVE. 245
" me !" Oppressed with the reflections which
this shocking spectacle afforded me, I mustered
strength enough to walk away, and soon
reached the house at which I intended to dine.
There I heard that the reason for this slave
being thus punished, was on account of his
having killed the overseer of the plantation.
They told me that the laws of self-preserva
tion rendered such executions necessary; and
supported the doctrine of slavery with the argu
ments generally made use of to justify the prac
tice; with the repetition of which I shall not
trouble you at present. Adieu.

LETTER

246 ON SNAKES, AND
LETTER X.
ON SNAKES ; AND ON THE HUMMING BIRD.
WHY would you prescribe this task;
you know that what we take up
ourselves seems always lighter than
what is imposed on us by others. You insist
on my saying something about our snakes ; and
in relating what I know concerning them, were
it not for two singularities, the one of which
I saw, and the other I received from an eye
witness, I should have but very little to ob
serve. The southern provinces are the
countries where nature has formed the
greatest variety of alligators, snakes, serpents;
and scorpions, from the smallest size, up to
the pine barren, the largest species known here.
We have but two, whose stings are mortal,
which deserve to be mentioned; as for the
black one, it- is remarkable for nothing but its
industry, agility, beauty, and the art of intic-
ing birds by the power of its eyes. I admire it
much, and never kill it, though its formidable
length and appearance often get the better of
the philosophy of some people, particularly of
Europeans.

THE HUMMING BIRD. 247
Europeans. The most dangerous one is the
pilot, or copperhead; for the poison of which
no remedy has yet been discovered. It bears the
first name because it always precedes the rattle
snake; that is, quits its state of torpidity in the
no-femedy-feas-ye-t-been discovered. It bears the
second name on account of its head being
adorned with many copper-coloured spots. It
lurks in rocks near the water, and is extremely
active and dangerous. Let man beware of it !
I have heard only of one person who was
stung by a copperhead in this country. The
poor wretch instantly swelled in a most dread
ful manner; a multitude of spots of different
hues alternately appeared and vanished, on
different parts of his body; his eyes were filled
with madness and rage, he cast them on all
present with the most vindictive looks: he
thrust out his tongue as the snakes do; he
hissed through his teeth with inconceivable
strength, and became an object of terror to all
bye-standers. To the lividness of a corpse he
united the desperate force of a maniac; they
hardly were able to fasten him, so as to guard
themselves from his attacks; when in the space
of two hours death relieved the poor wretch
from his struggles, and the spectators from
their apprehensions. The poison of the rattle
snake is not mortal in so short a space, and
hence

248 ON SNAKES, AND
hence there is more time to procure relief; we
are acquainted with several antidotes with
which almost every family is provided. They
are extremely inactive, and if not touched, are
perfectly inoffensive. I once saw, as I was
travelling, a great cliff which was full of them;
I handled several, and they appeared to be
dead ; they were all entwined together, and thus
they remain until the return of the sun. I found
them out, by following the track of some wild
hogs which had fed on them ; and even the In
dians often regale on them. When they find
them asleep, they put a small forked stick over
their necks, which they keep immoveably fixed
on the ground; giving the snake a piece of
leather to bite : and this they pull back several
times with great force, until they observe their
two poisonous fangs torne out. Then they cut
off the head, skin the body, and cook it as we
do eels; and their flesh is extremely sweet and
white. I once saw a tamed one, as gentle as
you can possibly conceive a reptile to be; it
took to the water and swam whenever it
pleased; and when the boys to whom it be
longed called it back, their summons was
readily obeyed. It had been deprived of its
fangs by the preceding method; they often
stroked it with a soft brush, and this friction
seemed to cause the most pleasing sensations, for

THE HUMMING BIRD. 249
for it would turn on its back to enjoy it, as a
cat does before the fire. One of this species
was the cause, some years ago, of a most de
plorable accident which I shall relate to you, as
I had it from the widow and mother of the
victims. A Dutch farmer of the Minisink went
to mowing, with his negroes, in his boots, a
precaution used to prevent being stung. Inad
vertently he trod on a snake, which immedi
ately flew at his legs; and as it drew back in
order to renew its blow, one of his negroes cut
it in two with his scythe. They prosecuted their
work, and returned home ; at night the farmer
pulled off his boots and went to bed ; and was
soon after attacked with a strange sickness at
his stomach ; he swelled, and before a physician
could be sent for, died. The sudden death of
this man did not cause much inquiry; the neigh
bourhood wondered, as is usual in such cases,
and without any further examination the corpse
was buried. A few days after, the son put on
his father's boots, and went to the meadow ; at
night he pulled them off, went to bed, and was
attacked with the same symptoms about the
same time, and died in the morning. A little
before he expired the doctor came, but was
not able to assign what could be the cause of
so singular a disorder; however, rather than
appear wholly at a loss before the country peo
ple, he

250 ON SNAKES, AND
pie, he pronounced both father and son to have
been bewitched. Some weeks after, the widow
sold all the moveables for the benefit of the
younger children; and the farm was leased.
One of the neighbours, who bought the boots,
presently put them on, and was attacked in the
same manner as the other two had been; but
this man's wife being alarmed by what had hap
pened in the former family, dispatched one of
her negroes for an eminent physician, who for
tunately having heard something of the dread
ful affair, guessed at the cause, applied oil, &c.
and recovered the man. The boots which had
been so fatal, were then carefully examined;
and he found that the two fangs of the snake
had been left in the leather, after being
wrenched out of their sockets by the strength
with which the snake had drawn back its head.
The bladders which contained the poison, and
several of the small nerves were still fresh, and
adhered to the boot. The unfortunate father
and son had been poisoned by pulling off these
boots, in which action they imperceptibly
scratched their legs with the points of the
fangs, through the hollow of which, some of
this astonishing poison was conveyed. You
have no doubt heard of their rattles, if you
have not seen them ; the only observation I wish
to make is, that the rattling is loud and distinct when

THE HUMMING BIRD. 251
when they are angry; and on the contrary,
when pleased, it sounds like a distant trepida
tion, in which nothing distinct is heard. In the
thick settlements, they are now become very
scarce; for wherever they are met with, open
war is declared against them ; so that in a few
years there will be none left but on our moun
tains. The black snake on the contrary, always
diverts me because it excites no idea of danger.
Their swiftness is astonishing; they will some
times equal that of an horse; at other times
they will climb up trees in quest of our tree
toads; or glide on the ground at full length.
On some occasions they present themselves half
in the reptile state, half erect; their eyes and
their heads in the erect posture, appear to great
advantage: the former display a fire which I
have often admired, and it is by these they are
enabled to fascinate birds and squirrels. When
they have fixed their eyes on an animal, they
become immoveable; only turning their head
sometimes to the right and sometimes to the
left, but still with their sight invariably di
rected to the object. The distracted victim, in
stead of flying its enemy, seems to be arrested
by some invincible power ; it screams ; now ap
proaches, and then recedes; and after skipping
about with unaccountable agitation, finally
rushes into the jaws of the snake, and is swal
lowed,

25 2 ON SNAKES, AND
lowed, as soon as it is covered with a slime or
glue to make it slide easily down the throat of
the devourer.
One anecdote I must relate, the circum
stances of which are as true as they are singu
lar. One of my constant walks when I am
at leisure, is in my lowlands, where I have the
pleasure of seeing my cattle, horses, and colts.
Exuberant grass replenishes all my fields, the
best representative of our wealth; in the mid
dle of that track I have cut a ditch eight feet
wide, the banks of which nature adorns every
spring with the wild salendine, and other
flowering weeds, which on these luxuriant
grounds shoot up to a great height. Over this
ditch I have erected a bridge, capable of bear
ing a loaded waggon ; on each side I carefully
sow every year, some grains of hemp, which
rise to the height of fifteen feet, so strong and
so full of limbs as to resemble young trees: I
once ascended one of them four feet above the
ground. These produce natural arbours, ren
dered often still more compact by the assist
ance of an annual creeping plant which we call
a vine, that never fails to entwine itself among
their branches, and always produces a very de
sirable shade. From this simple grove I have
amused myself an hundred times in observing
the great number of humming birds with which our

THE HUMMING BIRD. 253
our country abounds: the wild blossoms every
where attract the attention of these birds, which
like bees subsist by suction. From this retreat
I distinctly watch them in all their various at
titudes; but their flight is so rapid, that you
cannot distinguish the motion of their wings.
On this little bird nature has profusely lavished
her most splendid colours; the most perfect
azure, the most beautiful gold, the most daz
zling red, are for ever in contrast, and help to
embellish the plumes of his majestic head. The
richest pallet of the most luxuriant painter,
could never invent any thing to be compared to
the variegated tints, with which this insect bird
is arrayed. Its bill is as long and as sharp as
a coarse sewing needle ; like the bee, nature has
taught it to find out in the calix of flowers and
blossoms, those mellifluous particles that serve
it for sufficient food ; and yet it seems to leave
them untouched, undeprived of any thing that
our eyes can possibly distinguish. When it
feeds, it appears as if immoveable, though con
tinually on the wing; and sometimes, from
what motives I know not, it will tear and
lacerate flowers into a hundred pieces: for,
strange to tell, they are the most irascible of the
feathered tribe. Where do passions find room
in so diminutive a body? They often fight with
the fury of lions, until one of the combatants falls

254 A FURIOUS BATTLE
falls a sacrifice and dies. When fatigued, it
has often perched within a few feet of me, and
on such favourable opportunities I have sur
veyed it with the most minute attention. Its
little eyes appear like diamonds, reflecting light
on every side : most elegantly finished in all
parts it is a miniature work of our great parent;
who seems to have formed it the smallest, and
at the same time the most beautiful of the
winged species.
As I was one day sitting solitary and pensive
in my primitive arbour, my attention was en
gaged by a strange sort of rustling noise at
some paces distant. I looked all around with
out distinguishing any thing, until I climbed
one of my great hemp stalks ; when to my aston
ishment, I beheld two snakes of considerable
length, the one pursuing the other with great
celerity through a hemp stubble field. The
aggressor was of the black kind, six feet long;
the fugitive was a water snake, nearly of equal
dimensions. They soon met, and in the fury
of their first encounter, they appeared in an in
stant firmly twisted together; and whilst their
united tails beat the ground, they mutually
tried with open jaws to lacerate each other.
What a fell aspect did they present ! their heads
were compressed to a very small size, their
eyes flashed fire; and after this conflict had
lasted

BETWEEN TWO SNAKES. 255
lasted about five minutes, the second found
means to disengage itself from the first, and
hurried toward the ditch. Its antagonist in
stantly assumed a new posture, and half creep
ing and half erect, with a majestic mein, over
took and attacked the other again, which placed
itself in the same attitude, and prepared to re
sist. The scene was uncommon and beautiful;
for thus opposed they fought with their jaws,
biting each other with the utmost rage ; but not
withstanding this appearance of mutual cour
age and fury, the water snake still seemed de
sirous of retreating toward the ditch, its nat
ural element. This was no sooner perceived by
the keen-eyed black one, than twisting its tail
twice round a stalk of hemp, and seizing its
adversary by the throat, not by means of its
jaws, but by twisting its own neck twice round
that of the water snake, pulled it back from the
ditch. To prevent a defeat the latter took hold
likewise of a stalk on the bank, and by the ac
quisition of that point of resistance became a
match for its fierce antagonist. Strange was
this to behold; two great snakes strongly adher
ing to the ground mutually fastened together
by means of the writhings which lashed them to
each other, and stretched at their full length,
they pulled but pulled in vain ; and in the mo
ments of greatest exertions that part of their
bodies

256 A FURIOUS BATTLE
bodies which was entwined, seemed extremely
small, while the rest appeared inflated, and now
and then convulsed with strong undulations,
rapidly following each other. Their eyes
seemed on fire, and ready to start out of their
heads; at one time the conflict seemed decided;
the water-snake bent itself into two great folds,
and by that operation rendered the other more
than commonly outstretched; the next minute
the new struggles of the black one gained an
unexpected superiority, it acquired two great
folds likewise, which necessarily extended the
body of its adversary in proportion as it had
contracted its own. These efforts were alter
nate; victory seemed doubtful, inclining some
times to the one side and sometimes to the
other ; until at last the stalk to which the black
snake fastened, suddenly gave way, and in con
sequence of this accident they both plunged
into the ditch. The water did not extinguish
their vindictive rage ; for by their agitations I
could trace, though not distinguish their mutual
attacks. They soon re-appeared on the surface
twisted together, as in their first onset ; but the
black snake seemed to retain its wonted su
periority, for its head was exactly fixed above
that of the other, which it incessantly pressed
down under the water, until it was stifled, and
sunk. The victor no sooner perceived its
enemy

BETWEEN TWO SNAKES. 257
enemy incapable of farther resistance, than
abandoning it to the current, it returned on
shore and disappeared.

LETTER

25 8 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,

LETTER XI.
FROM MR. IW  N AL  Z, A RUSSIAN GENTLE
MAN; DESCRIBING THE VISIT HE PAID AT MY
REQUEST TO MR. JOHN BERTRAM, THE
CELEBRATED PENSYLVANIAN BOTANIST.
EXAMINE this flourishing province, in
whatever light you will, the eyes as well
as the mind of an European traveller
are equally delighted; because a diffusive hap
piness appears in every part: happiness which
is established on the broadest basis. The wis
dom of Lycurgus and Solon, never conferred
on man one half of the blessings and uninter
rupted prosperity which the Pennsylvanians
now possess: the name of Penn, that simple but
illustrious citizen, does more honour to the
English nation than those of many of their
kings. In order to convince you that I have not be
stowed undeserved praises, in my former letters
on this celebrated government; and that either
nature or the climate seems to be more favour
able here to the arts and sciences, than to any
other American province; let us together,
agreeable

THE BOTANIST. 259
agreeable to your desire, pay a visit to Mr.
John Bertram, the first botanist, in this new
hemisphere : become such by a native impulse of
disposition. It is to this simple man that
America is indebted for several useful discov
eries, and the knowledge of many new plants.
I had been greatly prepossessed in his favour by
the extensive correspondence which I knew he
held with the most eminent Scotch and French
botanists; I knew also that he had been hon
oured with that of Queen Ulrica of Sweden.
His house is small, but decent; there was
something peculiar in its first appearance, which
seemed to distinguish it from those of his neigh
bours: a small tower in the middle of it, not
only helped to strengthen it but afforded con
venient room for a staircase. Every disposi
tion of the fields, fences, and trees, seemed to
bear the marks of perfect order and regularity,
which in rural affairs, always indicate a pros
perous industry.
. I was received at the door by a woman
dressed extremely neat and simple, who with
out courtesying, or any other ceremonial, asked
me, with an air of benignity, who I wanted?
I answered, I should be glad to see Mr. Ber
tram. If thee wilt step in and take a chair, I
will send for him. No, I said, I had rather
have the pleasure of walking through his farm,
I shall

260 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,
I shall easily find him out, with your directions.
After a little time I perceived the Schuylkill,
winding through delightful meadows, and soon
cast my eyes on a new-made bank, which
seemed greatly to confine its stream. After
having walked on its top a considerable way I
at last reached the place where ten men were
at work. I asked, if any of them could tell me
where Mr. Bertram was? An elderly looking
man, with wide trowsers and a large leather
apron on, looking at me said, "My name is
"Bertram, dost thee want me?" Sir, I am
come on purpose to converse with you, if you
can be spared from your labour. "Very easily
" (he answered) I direct and advise more than
" I work."„ . We walked toward the house,
where he made me take a chair while he went
to put on clean clothes, after which he returned
and sat down by me. The fame of your knowl
edge, said I, in American botany, and your well-
known hospitality, have induced me to pay you
a visit, which I hope you will not think trouble
some : I should be glad to spend a few hours
in your garden. "The greatest advantage (re-
" plied he) which I receive from what thee
" callest my botanical fame, is the pleasure
" which it often procureth me in receiving the
" visits of friends and foreigners : but our jaunt
" into the garden must be postponed for the
" present,

THE BOTANIST. 261
" present, as the bell is ringing for dinner."
We entered into a large hall, where there was a
long table full of victuals; at the lowest part
sat his negroes, his hired men were next, then
the family and myself; and at the head, the
venerable father and his wife presided. Each
reclined his head and said his prayers, divested
of the tedious cant of some, and of the ostenta
tious stile of others. "After the luxuries of
" our cities, (observed he) this plain fare must
" appear to thee a severe fast." By no means,
Mr. Bertram, this honest country dinner con
vinces me, that you receive me as a friend and
an old acquaintance. "I am glad of it, for thee
art heartily welcome. I never knew how to
use ceremonies; they are insufficient proofs of
sincerity; our society, besides, are utterly
strangers to what the world calleth polite ex
pressions. We treat others as we treat our
selves. I received yesterday a letter from
Philadelphia, by which I understand thee art
a Russian; what motives can possibly have
induced thee to quit thy native country and
to come so far in quest of knowledge or
pleasure? Verily it is a great compliment
thee payest to this our young province, to
think that any thing it exhibiteth may be
worthy thy attention." I have been most
amply repaid for the trouble of the passage. I
view

262 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,
view the present Americans as the seed of
future nations, which will replenish this bound
less continent; the Russians may be in some
respects compared to you; we likewise are a
new people, new I mean in knowledge, arts, and
improvements. Who knows what revolutions
Russia and America may one day bring about;
we are perhaps nearer neighbours than we im
agine. I view with peculiar attention, all your
towns, I examine their situation and the police,
for which many are already famous,-iThaugh
their foundations are now so recent, and so well
remembered, yet their origin will puzzle pos
terity as much as we are now puzzled to ascer
tain the beginning of those which time has in
some measure destroyed. Your new buildings,
your streets, put me in mind of those of the
city of Pompeia, where I was a few years ago;
I attentively examined every thing there, par
ticularly the foot-path which runs along the
houses. They appeared to have been consider
ably worn by the great number of people which
had once travelled over them. But now how
distant; neither builders nor proprietors re
main ; nothing is known ! "Why thee hast been
" a great traveller for a man of thy years."
Few years, Sir, will enable any body to journey
over a great track of country; but it requires a
superior degree of knowledge to gather har
vests

THE BOTANIST. 263
vests as we go. Pray, Mr. Bertram, what banks
are those which you are making : to what pur
pose is so much expence and so much labour
bestowed? "Friend Iwan, no branch of in
dustry was ever more profitable to any coun
try, as well as to the proprietors; the Schuyl
kill in its many windings once covered a great
extent of ground, though its waters were but
shallow even in our highest tides : and though
some parts were always dry, yet the whole of
this great track presented to the eye nothing
but a putrid swampy soil, useless either for
the plough or for the scythe. The proprietors
of these grounds are now incorporated; we
yearly pay to the treasurer of the company a
certain sum, which makes an aggregate, su
perior to the casualties that generally happen
either by inundations or the musk squash. It
is owing to this happy contrivance that so
many thousand acres of meadows have been
rescued from the Schuylkill, which now both
enricheth and embellisheth so much of the
neighbourhood of our city. Our brethren of
Salem in New Jersey have carried the art of
banking to a still higher degree of perfec
tion." It is really an admirable contrivance,
which greatly redounds to the honour of the
parties concerned; and shews a spirit of dis
cernment and perseverance which is highly
praise-worthy :

264 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,
praise-worthy: if the Virginians would imitate
your example, the state of their husbandry
would greatly improve. I have not heard of
any such association in any other parts of the
continent; Pensylvania hitherto seems to reign
the unrivalled queen of these fair provinces.
Pray, Sir, what expence are you at e'er these
grounds be fit for the scythe? "The expences
" are very considerable, particularly when we
" have land, brooks, trees, and brush to clear
" away. But such is the excellence of these
" bottoms and the goodness of the grass for
" fattening of cattle, that the produce of three
" years pays all advances." Happy the coun
try where nature has bestowed such rich treas
ures, treasures superior to mines, said I : if all
this fair province is thus cultivated, no wonder
it has acquired such reputation, for the pros
perity and the industry of its inhabitants.
By this time the working part of the family
had finished their dinner, and had retired with
a decency and silence which pleased me much.
Soon after I heard, as I thought, a distant con
cert of instruments. — However simple and
pastoral your fare was, Mr. Bertram, this is the
desert of a prince; pray what is this I hear?
" Thee must not be alarmed, it is of a piece
" with the rest of thy treatment, friend Iwan."
Anxious I followed the sound, and by ascending the

THE BOTANIST. 265
the staircase, found that it was the effect of
the wind through the strings of an Eolian harp;
an instrument which I had never before seen.
After dinner we quaffed an honest bottle of
Madeira wine, without the irksome labour of
toasts, healths, or sentiments; and then retired
into his study.
I was no sooner entered, than I observed a
coat of arms in a gilt frame with the name of
Iohn Bertram. The novelty of such a decora
tion, in such a place, struck me; I could not
avoid asking, Does the society of Friends take
any pride in those armorial bearings, which
sometimes serve as marks of distinction be
tween families, and much oftener as food for
pride and ostentation? "Thee must know
" (said he) that my father was a French man,
" he brought this piece of painting over with
" him; I keep it as a piece of family furniture,
" and as a memorial of his removal hither."
From his study we went into the garden, which
contained a great variety of curious plants and
shrubs; some grew in a green-house, over the
door of which were written these lines,
" Slave to no sect, who takes no private road,
" But looks through nature, up to nature's
God!"
He informed me that he had often followed General

266 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,
General Bouquet to Pittsburgh, with the view
of herbalising; that he had made useful col
lections in Virginia, and that he had been em
ployed by the king of England to visit the two
Floridas. Our walks and botanical observations en
grossed so much of our time, that the sun was
almost down ere I thought of returning to
Philadelphia ; I regretted that the day had been
so short, as I had not spent so rational a one
for a long time before. I wanted to stay, yet
was doubtful whether it would not appear im
proper, being an utter stranger. Knowing
however, that I was visiting the least ceremoni
ous people in the world, I bluntly informed
him of the pleasure I had enjoyed, and with the
desire I had of staying a few days with him.
" Thee art as welcome as if I was thy father;
" thee art no stranger; thy desire of knowledge,
" thy being a foreigner besides, entitleth thee
" to consider my house as thine own, as long
" as thee pleaseth: use thy time with the most
" perfect freedom; I too shall do so myself."
I thankfully accepted the kind invitation.
We went to view his favourite bank; he
shewed me the principles and method on which
it was erected ; and we walked over the grounds
which had been already drained. The whole
store of nature's kind luxuriance seemed to
have

THE BOTANIST. 267
have been exhausted on these beautiful
meadows ; he made me count the amazing num
ber of cattle and horses now feeding on solid
bottoms, which but a few years before had been
covered with water. Thence we rambled
through his fields, where the right-angular
fences, the heaps of pitched stones, the flourish
ing clover, announced the best husbandry, as
well as the most assiduous attention. His cows
were then returning home, deep bellied, short
legged, having udders ready to burst; seeking
with seeming toil, to be delivered from the
great exuberance they contained: he next
shewed me his orchard, formerly planted on a
barren sandy soil, but long since converted into
one of the richest spots in that vicinage.
" This (said he) is altogether the fruit of
" my own contrivance ; I purchased some years
" ago the privilege of a small spring, about a
" mile and a half from hence, which at a con-
" siderable expence I have brought to this res-
" ervoir ; therein I throw old lime, ashes, horse-
" dung, &c. and twice a week I let it run, thus
" impregnated ; I regularly spread on this
" ground in the fall, old hay, straw, and what-
" ever damaged fodder I have about my barn.
" By these simple means I mow, one year with
" another, fifty-three hundreds of excellent hay
" per acre, from a soil, which scarcely produced
"five-fingers

268 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,
" five-fingers [a small plant resembling straw-
" berries] some years before." This is, Sir, a
miracle in husbandry; happy the country which
is cultivated by a society of men, whose appli
cation and taste lead them to prosecute and ac
complish useful works. "I am not the only per
son who do these things (he said) wherever
water can be had it is always turned to that
important use; wherever a farmer can water
his meadows, the greatest crops of the best
hay and excellent after-grass, are the sure
rewards of his labours. With the banks of
my meadow ditches, I have greatly enriched
my upland fields, those which I intend to rest
for a few years, I constantly sow with red
clover, which is the greatest meliorator of our
lands. For three years after, they yield abun
dant pasture; when I want to break up my
clover fields, I give them a good coat of mud,
which hath been exposed to the severities of
three or four of our winters. This is the rea
son that I commonly reap from twenty-eight
to thirty-six bushels of wheat an acre; my
flax, oats, and Indian corn, I raise in the same
proportion. Wouldst thee inform me whether
the inhabitants of thy country follow the
same methods of husbandry?" No, Sir; in
the neighbourhood of our towns, there are in
deed some intelligent farmers, who prosecute their

THE BOTANIST. 269
their rural schemes with attention; but we
should be too numerous, too happy, too power
ful a people, if it were possible for the whole
Russian Empire to be cultivated like the prov
ince of Pennsylvania. Our lands are so un
equally divided, and so few of our farmers are
possessors of the soil they till, that they cannot
execute plans of husbandry with the same vigor
as you do, who hold yours, as it were from the
Master of nature, unincumbered and free. Oh,
America ! exclaimed I, thou knowest not as yet
the whole extent of thy happiness: the founda
tion of thy civil polity must lead thee in a few
years to a degree of population and power
which Europe little thinks of! "Long before
" this happen (answered the good man) we
"shall rest beneath the turf; it is vain for
" mortals to be presumptuous in their conject-
" ures : our country, is, no doubt, the cradle of
" an extensive future population ; the old world
" is growing weary of its inhabitants, they
" must come here to flee from the tyranny of
" the great. But doth not thee imagine, that
" the great will, in the course of years, come
" over here also ; for it is the misfortune of all
" societies every where to hear of great men,
" great rulers, and of great tyrants." My dear
Sir, I replied, tyranny never can take a strong
hold in this country, the land is too widely dis
tributed :

270 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,
tributed: it is poverty in Europe that makes
slaves. "Friend Iwan, as I make no doubt that
" thee understandest the Latin tongue, read
" this kind epistle which the good Queen of
" Sweden, Ulrica, sent me a few years ago.
"Good woman! that she should think in her
" palace at Stockholm of poor John Bertram,
" on the banks of the Schuylkill; appeareth to
" me very strange." Not in the least, dear Sir;
you are the first man whose name as a botanist
hath done honour to America; it is very nat
ural at the same time to imagine, that so ex
tensive a continent must contain many curious
plants and trees: is it then surprising to see a
princess, fond of useful knowledge, descend
sometimes from the throne, to walk in the
gardens of Linnaeus? " 'Tis to the directions
" of that learned man (said Mr. Bertram) that
"I am indebted for the method which has led
"me to the knowledge I now possess; the
" science of botany is so diffusive, that a proper
" thread is absolutely wanted to conduct the be-
" ginner." Pray, Mr. Bertram, when did you
imbibe the first wish to cultivate the science of
botany; was you regularly bred to it in Phila
delphia ? "I have never received any other edu-
" cation than barely reading and writing; this
" small farm was all the patrimony my father
"left me, certain debts and the want of
" meadows

THE BOTANIST. 271
" meadows kept me rather low in the begin-
" ning of my life ; my wife brought me nothing
" in money, all her riches consisted in her good
" temper and great knowledge of housewifery.
" I scarcely know how to trace my steps in the
" botanical career; they appear to me now like
" unto a dream : but thee mayest rely on what I
" shall relate, though I know that some of our
" friends have laughed at it." I am not one of
those people, Mr. Bertram, who aim at finding
out the ridiculous in what is sincerely and hon
estly averred. "Well, then, I'll tell thee : One
" day I was very busy in holding my plough
" (for thee seest that I am but a ploughman)
" and being weary I ran under the shade of a
" tree to repose myself. I cast my eyes on a
" daisy, I plucked it mechanically and viewed it
" with more curiosity than common country
" farmers are wont to do ; and observed therein
" very many distinct parts, some perpendicular,
" some horizontal. What a shame, said my
" mind, or somthing that inspired my mind,
" that thee shouldest have employed so many
" years in tilling the earth and destroying so
" many flowers and plants, without being ac-
" quainted with their structures and their uses!
" This seeming inspiration suddenly awakened
" my curiosity, for these were not thoughts to
" which I had been accustomed. I returned to
"my

272 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,
my team, but this new desire did not quit my
mind; I mentioned it to my wife, who greatly
discouraged me from prosecuting my new
scheme, as she called it; I was not opulent
enough, she said, to dedicate much of my time
to studies and labours which might rob me of
that portion of it which is the only wealth of
the American farmer. However her prudent
caution did not discourage me; I thought
about it continually, at supper, in bed, and
wherever I went. At last I could not resist
the impulse; for on the fourth day of the
following week, I hired a man to plough for
me, and went to Philadelphia. Though I
knew not what book to call for, I ingeniously
told the bookseller my errand, who provided
me with such as he thought best, and a Latin
grammar beside. Next I applied to a neigh
bouring schoolmaster, who in three months
taught me Latin enough to understand Lin
naeus, which I purchased afterward. Then
I began to botanize all over my farm; in a
little time I became acquainted with every
vegetable that grew in my neighbourhood;
and next ventured into Maryland, living
among the Friends: in proportion as I
thought myself more learned I proceeded
farther, and by a steady application of sev
eral years I have acquired a pretty general
" knowledge

THE BOTANIST. 273
" knowledge of every plant and tree to be
" found in our continent. In process of time
" I was applied to from the old countries,
" whither I every year send many collections.
" Being now made easy in my circumstances, I
" have ceased to labour, and am never so happy
" as when I see and converse with my friends.
" If among the many plants or shrubs I am
" acquainted With, there are any thee wantest
" to send to thy native country, I will chear-
" fully procure them, and give thee moreover
" whatever directions thee mayest want."
Thus I passed several days in ease, improve
ment, and pleasure ; I observed in all the opera
tions of his farm, as well as in the mutual cor
respondence between the master and the in
ferior members of his family, the greatest ease
and decorum ; not a word like command seemed
to exceed the tone of a simple wish. The very
negroes themselves appeared to partake of such
a decency of behaviour, and modesty of coun
tenance, as I had never before observed. By
what means, said I, Mr. Bertram, do you rule
your slaves so well, that they seem to do their
work with all the chearfulness of white men?
" Though our erroneous prejudices and opin-
" ions once induced us to look upon them as fit
" only for slavery, though ancient custom had
" very unfortunately taught us to keep them in
" bondage;

274 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,
bondage; yet of late, in consequence of the
remonstrances of several Friends, and of the
good books they have published on that sub
ject, our society treats them very differently.
With us they are now free. I give those
whom thee didst see at my table, eighteen
pounds a year, with victuals and clothes, and
all other privileges which white men enjoy.
Our society treats them now as the com
panions of our labours; and by this manage
ment, as well as by means of the education
we have given them, they are in general be
come a new set of beings. Those whom I ad
mit to my table, I have found to be good,
trusty, moral men ; when they do not what we
think they should do, we dismiss them, which
is all the punishment we inflict. Other so
cieties of Christians keep them still as slaves,
without teaching them any kind of religious
principles : what motive beside fear can they
have to behave well? In the first settlement
of this province, we employed them as slaves,
I acknowledge ; but when we found that good
example, gentle admonition, and religious
principles could lead them to subordination
and sobriety, we relinquished a method so
contrary to the profession of Christianity.
We gave them freedom, and yet few have
quitted their ancient masters. The women
" breed

THE BOTANIST. 275
"breed in our families; and we become at-
" tached to one another. I taught mine to
" read and write ; they love God, and fear his
" judgements. The oldest person among them
" transacts my business in Philadelphia, with a
" punctuality, from which he has never devi-
" ated. They constantly attend our meetings,
" they participate in health and sickness, in-
" fancy and old age, in the advantages our so-
" ciety affords. Such are the means we have
" made use of, to relieve them from that bond-
" age and ignorance in which they were kept
" before. Thee perhaps hast been surprised to
" see them at my table, but by elevating them
" to the rank of freemen, they necessarily ac-
" quire that emulation without which we our-
" selves should fall into debasement and
" profligate ways." Mr. Bertram, this is the
most philosophical treatment of negroes that
I have heard of ; happy would it be for America
would other denominations of Christians im
bibe the same principles, and follow the same
admirable rules. A great number of men
would be relieved from those cruel shackles,
under which they now groan; and under this
impression, I cannot endure to spend more time
in the southern provinces. The method with
which they are treated there, the meanness of
their food, the severity of their tasks, are spec
tacles

276 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,
tacles I have not patience to behold. "I am
" glad to see that thee hast so much compas-
"sion; are there any slaves in thy country?"
Yes, unfortunately, but they are more properly
civil than domestic slaves ; they are attached to
the soil on which they live ; it is the remains of
ancient barbarous customs, established in the
days of the greatest ignorance and savageness
of manners ! and preserved notwithstanding the
repeated tears of humanity, the loud calls of
policy, and the commands of religion. The
pride of great men, with the avarice of land
holders, make them look on this class as neces
sary tools of husbandry; as if freemen could
not cultivate the ground. "And is it really so,
" Friend Iwan? To be poor, to be wretched,
"to be a slave, are hard indeed; existence is
" not worth enjoying on those terms. I am
" afraid thy country can never flourish under
" such impolitic government." I am very much
of your opinion Mr. Bertram, though I am in
hopes that the present reign, illustrious by so
many acts of the soundest policy, will not expire
without this salutary, this necessary emancipa
tion; which would fill the Russian empire with
tears of gratitude. "How long hast thee been
" in this country?" Four years, Sir. "Why
" thee speakest English almost like a native;
" what a toil a traveller must undergo to learn
" various

THE BOTANIST. 277
"various languages, to divest himself of his
" native prejudices, and to accommodate him-
" self to the customs of all those among whom
" he chuseth to reside."
Thus I spent my time with this enlightened
botanist — this worthy citizen; who united all
the simplicity of rustic manners to the most use
ful learning. Various and extensive were the
conversations that filled the measure of my
visit. I accompanied him to his fields, to his
barn, to his bank, to his garden, to his study,
and at last to the meeting of the society on the
Sunday following. It was at the town of Ches
ter, whither the whole family went in two wag
gons ; Mr. Bertram and I on horse back. When
I entered the house where the friends were as
sembled, who might be about two hundred men
and women, the involuntary impulse of ancient
custom made me pull off my hat; but soon re
covering myself, I sat with it on, at the end of
a bench. The meeting-house was a square
building devoid of any ornament whatever;
the whiteness of the walls, the conveniency of
seats, that of a large stove, which in cold
weather keeps the whole house warm, were the
only essential things which I observed. Neither
pulpit nor desk, fount nor altar, tabernacle nor
organ, were there to be seen; it is merely a
spacious room, in which these good people meet
every

278 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM,
every Sunday. A profound silence ensued,
which lasted about half an hour; every one had
his head reclined, and seemed absorbed in pro
found meditation, when a female friend arose,
and declared with a most engaging modesty,
that the spirit moved her to entertain them on
the subject, she had chosen. She treated it with
great propriety, as a moral useful discourse,
and delivered it without theological parade
or the ostentation of learning. Either she must
have been a great adept in public speaking, or
had studiously prepared herself; a circumstance
that cannot well be supposed, as it is a point, in
their profession, to utter nothing but what
arises from spontaneous impulse: or else the
great spirit of the world, the patronage and
influence of which they all came to invoke, must
have inspired her with the soundest molality.
Her discourse lasted three quarters of an hour.
I did not observe one single face turned toward
her; never before had I seen a congregation
listening with so much attention to a public
oration. I observed neither contortions of
body, nor any kind of affectation in her face,
stile, or manner of utterance; every thing was
natural, and therefore pleasing, and shall I tell
you more, she was very handsome, although
upward of forty. As soon as she had finished,
every one seemed to return to their former
meditation

THE BOTANIST. 279
meditation for about a quarter of an hour;
when they rose up by common consent, and
after some general conversation, departed.
How simple their precepts, how unadorned
their religious system : how few the ceremonies
through which they pass during the course of
their lives! At their deaths they are interred
by the fraternity, without pomp, without pray
ers ; thinking it then too late to alter the course
of God's eternal decrees : and as you well know,
without either monument nor tomb-stone.
Thus after having lived under the mildest gov
ernment, after having been guided by the mild
est doctrine, they die just as peaceably as those
who being educated in more pompous religions,
pass through a variety of sacraments, subscribe
to complicated creeds, and enjoy the benefits of
a church establishment. These good people
flatter themselves, with following the doctrines
of Jesus Christ, in that simplicity with which
they were delivered: an happier system could
not have been devised for the use of mankind.
It appears to be entirely free from those orna
ments and political additions which each coun
try and each government, hath fashioned after
its own manners.
At the door of this meeting house, I had been
invited to spend some days at the houses of
some respectable farmers in the neighbour hood

280 VISIT TO MR. BERTRAM, &c.
hood. The reception I met with every where
insensibly led me to spend two months among
these good people; and I must say they were
the golden days of my riper years. I never
shall forget the gratitude I owe them for the
innumerable kindnesses they heaped on me; it
was to the letter you gave me that I am in
debted for the extensive acquaintance I now
have throughout Pennsylvania. I must defer
thanking you as I ought, until I see you again.
Before that time comes, I may perhaps enter
tain you with more curious anecdotes than this
letter affords. Farewell. I  N AL  Z.4

LETTER

A FRONTIER MAN. 281
LETTER XII.
DISTRESSES OF A FRONTIER MAN.
I WISH for a change of place ; the hour is
come at last, that I must fly from my
house and abandon my farm ! But what
course shall I steer, inclosed as I am ? The cli
mate best adapted to my present situation and
humour would be the polar regions, where six
months day and six months night divide the
dull year : nay, a simple Aurora Borealis would
suffice me, and greatly refresh my eyes,
fatigued now by so many disagreeable objects.
The severity of those climates, that great
gloom, where melancholy dwells, would be per
fectly analagous to the turn of my mind. Oh,
could I remove my plantation to the shores of
the Oby, willingly would I dwell in the hut of
a Samoyede ; with chearfulness would I go and
bury myself in the cavern of a Laplander.
Could I but carry my family along with me, I
would winter at Pello, or Tobolsky, in order
to enjoy the peace and innocence of that coun
try. But let me arrive under the pole, or reach
the antipodes, I never can leave behind me the
remembrance

282

DISTRESSES OF

remembrance of the dreadful scenes to which I
have been a witness; therefore never can I be
happy! Happy, why would I mention that
sweet, that enchanting word ? Once happiness
was our portion; now it is gone from us, and
I am afraid not to be enjoyed again by the
•present generation! Which ever way I look,
.nothing but the most frightful precipices pre-
¦ sent themselves to my view, in which hundreds
'of my friends and acquaintances have already
• perished: of all animals that live on the sur-
•face of this planetrwhat is man when no longer
connected with society; or when he finds him
self surrounded by a convulsed and a half dis-
- solved one? He cannot live in solitude,, he
- must belong to some community bound by some
. ties, however imperfect. Men mutually sup
port and add to the boldness and confidence of
each other; the weakness of each is strength
enecTby the force of the whole. I had never
before these calamitous times formed any -such
ideas ; I lived on, laboured and prospered, with
out having ever studied on what the security of
my life, and the foundation of my prosperity
were established : I perceived them just as they
left me. \£<Jevex was a situation so singularly
terrible as mine, in, every possible respect, as a
member of an extensive society, as a citizen of
an inferior division of the same society, as a
husband,

A FRONTIER MAN. 283
husband, as a father, as a man who exquisitely
feels for the miseries of others as well as for his
own! But alas! so much is every thing now
subverted among us, that the very word misery,
with which we were hardly acquainted before,
no longer conveys the same ideas; or rather
tired with feeling for the miseries of others,
every one feels now for himself alone. When
I consider myself as connected in all these char
acters, as bound by so many cords, all uniting in
my heart, I am seised with a fever of the mind,
I am transported beyond that degree of calm
ness which is necessary to delineate our
thoughts. I feel as if my reason wanted to
leave me, as if it would burst its poor weak
tenement: again I try to compose myself, I
grow cool, and preconceiving the dreadful loss,
I endeavour to retain the useful guest.
You know the position of our settlement; I
need not therefore describe it. To the west it is
inclosed by a chain of mountains, reaching to
 ; to the east, the country is as yet but
thinly inhabited; we are almost insulated, and
the houses are at a considerable distance from
each other. From the mountains we have but
too much reason to expect our dreadful enemy ;
the wilderness is a harbour where it is impos
sible to find them. It is a door through which
they can enter our country whenever they
please ;

284 DISTRESSES OF
please ; and, as they seem determined to destroy
the whole chain of frontiers, our fate cannot be
far distant : from Lake Champlain, almost all
has been conflagrated one after another. What
renders these incursions still more terrible is,
that they most commonly take place in the dead
of the night ; we never go to our fields but we
are seised with an involuntary fear, which les
sens our strength and weakens our labour. No
other subject of conversation intervenes be
tween the different accounts, which spread
through the country, of successive acts of devas
tation ; and these told in chimney-corners, swell
themselves in our affrighted imaginations into
the most terrific ideas! <We never sit down
either to dinner or supper, but the least noise
immediately spreads a general alarm and pre
vents us from enjoying the comfort of our
meals. The very appetite proceeding from
labour and peace of mind is gone; we eat just
enough to keep up alive : our sleep is disturbed
by the most frightful dreams; sometimes I
start awake, as if the great hour of danger was
come; at other times the howling of our dogs
seems to announce the arrival of the enemy : we
leap out of bed and run to arms; my poor wife
with panting bosom and silent tears, takes leave
of me, as if we were to see each other no more;
she snatches the youngest children from their
beds,

A FRONTIER MAN. 285
beds, who, suddenly awakened, increase by their
innocent questions the horror of the dreadful
moment. She tries to hide them in the cellar,
as if our cellar was inaccessible to the fire. I
place all my servants at the windows, and my
self at the door, where I am determined to
perish. Fear industriously encreases every
sound ; we all listen ; each communicates to the
other his ideas and conjectures. We remain
thus sometimes for whole hours, our hearts and
our minds racked by the most anxious suspense :
what a dreadful situation, a thousand times
worse than that of a soldier engaged in the
midst of the most severe conflict ! Sometimes
feeling the spontaneous courage of a man, I
seem to wish for the decisive minute ; the next
instant a message from my wife, sent by one
of the children, puzzling me beside with their
little questions, unmans me: away goes my
courage, and I descend again into the deepest
despondency. At last finding that it was a false
alarm, we return once more to our beds; but
what good can the kind sleep of nature do to us
when interrupted by such scenes ! Securely
placed as you are, you can have no idea of our
agitations, but by hear-say; no relation can be
equal to what we suffer and to what we feel./"
Every morning my youngest children are sure
to have frightful dreams to relate: in vain I
exert

286 DISTRESSES OF
exert my authority to keep them silent, it is not
in my power; and these images of their dis
turbed imagination, instead of being frivolously
looked upon as in the days of our happiness,
are on the contrary considered as warnings and
sure prognostics of our future fate. I am not a
superstitious man, but since our misfortunes, I
am grown more timid, and less disposed to
treat the doctrine of omens with contempt.
Though these evils have been gradual, yet
they do not become habitual like other in
cidental evils. The nearer I view the end of
this catastrophe, the more I shudder. But why
should I trouble you with such unconnected ac
counts; men secure and out of danger are soon
fatigued with mournful details: can you enter
with me into fellowship with all these afflictive
sensations ; have you a tear ready to shed over
the approaching ruin of a once opulent and
substantial family? Read this I pray with the
eyes of sympathy; with a tender sorrow, pity
the lot of those whom you once called your
friends ; who were once surrounded with plenty,
ease, and perfect security; but who now expect
every night to be their last, and who are as
wretched as criminals under an impending sen
tence of the law.
As a member of a large society which ex
tends to many parts of the world, my connec tion

A FRONTIER MAN. 287
tion with it is too distant to be as strong as that
which binds me to the inferior division in the
midst of which I live. I am told that the great
nation, of which we are a part, is just, wise,
and free, beyond any other on earth, within its
own insular boundaries; but not always so to
its distant conquests: I shall not repeat all I
have heard, because I cannot believe half of
it. As a citizen of a smaller society, I find
that any kind of opposition to its now prevail
ing sentiments, immediately begets hatred : how
easily do men pass from loving, to hating and
cursing one another! I am a lover of peace,
what must I do? I am divided between the
respect I feel for the ancient connection, and
the fear of innovations, with the consequence
of which I am not well acquainted ; as they are
embraced by my own countrymen. I am con
scious that I was happy before this unfortunate
Revolution. I feel that I am no longer so;
therefore I regret the change. This is the only
mode of reasoning adapted to persons in my
situation. If I attach myself to the Mother
Country, which is 3000 miles from me, I be
come what is called an enemy to my own re
gion; if I follow the rest of my countrymen, I
become opposed to our ancient masters: both
extremes appear equally dangerous to a per
son of so little weight and consequence as I am,
whose

288 DISTRESSES OF
whose energy and example are of no avail. As
to the argument on which the dispute is found
ed, I know little about it. Much has been said
and written on both sides, but who has a judge
ment capacious and clear enough to decide?
The great moving principles which actuate
both parties are much hid from vulgar eyes,
like mine; nothing but the plausible and the
*. probable are offered to our contemplation. The
^ innocent class are always the victim of the few ;
>• they are in all countries and at all times the in
ferior agents, on which the popular phantom is
erected ; they clamour, and must toil, and bleed,
and are always sure of meeting with oppression
and rebuke. It is for the sake of the great
leaders on both sides, that so much blood must
be spilt ; that of the people is counted as noth
ing. Great events are not achieved for us,
though it is by us that they are principally ac
complished ; by the arms, the sweat, the lives of
the people. Books tell me so much that they
inform me of nothing. Sophistry, the bane of
freemen, launches forth iiTalTher deceiving at
tire ! After all, most men reason from pas
sions; and shall such an ignorant individual as
I am decide, and say this side is right, that side
is wrong? Sentiment and feeling are the only
guidesT.know. Alas, how should I unravel an
argument, in which reason herself hath given way

A FRONTIER MAN. 289
way to brutality and bloodshed! What then
must I do ? I ask the wisest lawyers, the ablest
casuists, the warmest patriots ; for I mean hon
estly. Great Source of wisdom! inspire me
with light sufficient to guide my benighted
steps out of this intricate maze ! Shall I dis
card all my ancient principles, shall I renounce
that name, that nation which I held once so
respectable? I feel the powerful attraction;
the sentiments they inspired grew with my ear
liest knowledge, and were grafted upon the first
rudiments of my education. On the other
hand, shall I arm myself against that country
where I first drew breath, against the play
mates of my youth, my bosom friends, my ac
quaintance? — the idea makes me shudder!
Must I be called a parricide, a traitor, a vil
lain, lose the esteem of all those whom I love,
to preserve my own; be shunned like a rattle
snake, or be pointed at like a bear? I have
neither heroism nor magnanimity enough to
make so great a sacrifice. Here I am tied, I am
fastened by numerous strings, nor do I repine
at the pressure they cause ; ignorant as I am, I
can pervade the utmost extent of the calamities
which have already overtaken our poor afflicted
country. I can see the great and accumulated
ruin yet extending itself as far as the theatre of
war has reached; I hear the groans of thou
sands

290 DISTRESSES OF
sands of families now ruined and desolated by
our aggressors. I cannot count the multitude
of orphans this war has made ; nor ascertain the
immensity of blood we have lost. Some have
asked, whether it was a crime to resist; to repel
some parts of this evil. Others have asserted,
that a resistance so general makes pardon un
attainable, and repentance useless; and divid
ing the crime among so many, renders it imper
ceptible. What one party calls meritorious,
the other denominates flagitious. These opin
ions vary, contract, or expand, like the events
of the war on which they are founded. What
can an insignificant man do in the midst of these
jarring contradictory parties, equally hostile to
persons situated as I am? And after all who
will be the really guilty? — Those most cer
tainly who fail of success. Our fate, the fate
of thousands, is then necessarily involved in
the dark wheel of fortune. Why then so many
'I useless reasonings; we are the sport of fate.
(Farewell education, principles, love of our
country, farewell ; all are become useless to the
generality of us: he who governs himself ac
cording to what he calls his principles, may be
punished either by one party or the other, for
those very principles. He who proceeds with
out principle, as chance, timidity, or self-preser
vation directs, will not perhaps fare better ; but he

A FRONTIER MAN. 291
he will be less blamed. What are we in the
great scale of events, we poor defenseless fron
tier inhabitants? What is it to the gazing
world, whether we breathe or whether we die ?
Whatever virtue, whatever merit and disinter
estedness we may exhibit in our secluded re
treats, of what avail ? We are like the pismires 3
destroyed by the plough; whose destruction
prevents not the future crop. Self-preserva- \
tion, therefore, the rule of nature seems to be/
the best rule of conduct ; what good can we do ;
by vain resistance, by useless efforts? The cool,,1
the distant spectator, placed in safety, may ar
raign me for ingratitude, may bring forth the
principles of Solon or Montesquieu; he may
look on me as wilfully guilty; he may call me
by the most opprobrious names. Secure from
personal danger, his warm imagination, undis
turbed by the least agitation of the heart, will
expatiate freely on this grand question; and
will consider this extended field, but as exhibit
ing the double scene, of attack and defence. To
him the object becomes abstracted, the inter
mediate glares, the perspective distance and a
variety of opinions unimpaired by affections,
presents to his mind but one set of ideas. Here
he proclaims the high guilt of the one, and
there the right of the other; but let him come
and reside with us one single month, let him
pass

292 DISTRESSES OF
pass with us through all the successive hours of
necessary toil, terror and affright, let him watch
with us, his musket in his hand, through
tedious, sleepless nights, his imagination fur
rowed by the keen chissel of every passion ; let
his wife and his children become exposed to the
most dreadful hazards of death; let the exist
ence of his property depend on a single spark,
blown by the breath of an enemy; let him
tremble with us in our fields, shudder at the
rustling of every leaf; let his heart, the seat of
the most affecting passions, be powerfully
wrung by hearing the melancholy end of his re
lations and friends; let him trace on the map
the progress of these desolations; let his
alarmed imagination predict to him the night,
the dreadful night when it may be his turn to
perish, as so many have perished before. Ob
serve then, whether the man will not get the
better of the citizen, whether his political max
ims will not vanish! Yes, he will cease to
glow so warmly with the glory of the metro
polis; all his wishes will be turned toward the
preservation of his family ! Oh, were he situ
ated where I am, were his house perpetually
filled, as mine is, with miserable victims just
escaped from the flames and the scalping knife,
telling of barbarities and murders, that make
human nature tremble; his situation would sus
pend

A FRONTIER MAN. 293
pend every political reflection, and expel every
abstract idea. My heart is full and involun
tarily takes hold of any notion from whence
it can receive ideal ease or relief. I am in
formed that the king has the most numerous, as
well as the fairest, progeny of children, of any
potentate now in the world : he may be a great
king, but he must feel as we common mortals
do, in the good wishes he forms for their lives
and prosperity. His mind no doubt often
springs forward on the wings of anticipation,
and contemplates us as happily settled in the
world. If a poor frontier inhabitant may be
allowed to suppose this great personage the first
in our system, to be exposed but for one hour,
to the exquisite pangs we so often feel, would
not the preservation of so numerous a family
engross all his thoughts; would not the ideas
of dominion and other felicities attendant on
royalty, all vanish in the hour of danger? The
regal character, however sacred, would be su
perseded by the stronger, because more natural
one of man and father. Oh ! did he but know
the circumstances of this horrid war, I am sure
he would put a stop to that long destruction of
parents and children. I am sure that while he
turned his ears to state policy, he would atten
tively listen also to the dictates of nature, that
great parent ; for, as a good king, he no doubt
wishes

294 DISTRESSES OF
wishes to create, to spare, and to protect, as she
does. Must I then, in order to be called a
faithful subject, coolly, and philosophically say,
it is necessary for the good of Britain, that my
children's brains should be dashed against the
walls of the house in which they were reared;
that my wife should be stabbed and scalped be
fore my face ; that I should be either murdered
or captivated ; or that for greater expedition we
should all be locked up and burnt to ashes as
the family of the B  n was? • Must I with
meekness wait for that last pitch of desolation,
and receive with perfect resignation, so hard a
fate from ruffians, acting at such a distance
from the eyes of any superior; monsters, left
to the wild impulses of the wildest nature.
Could the lions of Africa be transported here
and let loose, they would no doubt kill us in
order to prey upon our carcasses ; but their ap
petites would not require so many victims.
Shall I wait to be punished with death, or else
to be stripped of all food and raiment, reduced
to despair without redress and without hope.
Shall those who may escape, see every thing
they hold dear destroyed and gone. Shall those
few survivors, lurking in some obscure corner,
deplore in vain the fate of their families, mourn
over parents either captivated, butchered, or
burnt; roam among our wilds, and wait for
death

A FRONTIER MAN. 295
death at the foot of some tree, without a mur
mur, or without a sigh, for the good of the
cause? No, it is impossible! so astonishing a
sacrifice is not to be expected from human
nature, it must belong to beings of an inferior
or superior order, actuated by less, or by more
refined principles. Even those great person
ages who are so far elevated above the com
mon ranks of men, those, I mean, who wield
and direct so many thunders; those who have
let loose against us these demons of war, could
they be transported here, and metamorphosed
into simple planters as we are, they, would,
from being the arbiters of human destiny, sink
into miserable victims ; they would feel and ex
claim as we do, and be as much at a loss what
line of conduct to prosecute. Do you well com
prehend the difficulties of our situation? If we
stay we are sure to perish at one time or an
other; no vigilance on our part can save us; if
we retire, we know not where to go; every
house is filled with refugees as wretched as our
selves; and if we remove we become beggars.
The property of farmers is not like that of mer
chants; and absolute poverty is worse than
death. If we take up arms to defend ourselves,
we are denominated rebels; should we not be
rebels against nature, could we be shamefully
passive ? Shall we then, like martyrs, glory in
an

296 DISTRESSES OF
an ijjggiance, now become useless, and volun
tarily expose ourselves to a species of desola
tion which though it ruin us entirely, yet en
riches not our ancient masters. \ By this in
flexible and sullen attachment, we shall be de
spised by our countrymen, and destroyed by our
ancient friends; whatever we may say, what
ever merit we may claim, will not shelter us
from those indiscriminate blows, given by hired
banditti, animated by all those passions which
urge men to shed the blood of others; how
bitter the thought ! On the contrary, blows re
ceived by the hands of those from whom we
expected protection, extinguish ancient respect,
and urge us to self-defence — perhaps to re
venge; this is the path which nature herself
points out, as well to the civilized as to the un
civilized. The Creator of hearts has himself
stamped on them those propensities at their first
formation ; and must we then daily receive this
treatment from a power once so loved? The
Fox flies or deceives the hounds that pursue
him; the bear, when overtaken, boldly resists
and attacks them ; the hen, the very timid hen,
fights for the preservation of her chickens, nor
does she decline to attack, and to meet on the
wing even the swift kite. Shall man, then, pro
vided both with instinct and reason, unmoved,
unconcerned, and passive, see his subsistence consumed,

A FRONTIER MAN. 297
consumed, and his progeny either ravished
from him or murdered ? Shall fictitious reason
extinguish the unerring impulse of instinct?
No ; my former respect, my former attachment
vanishes with my safety; that respect and at
tachment' was purchased by protection, and it
has ceased. Could not the great nation we be
long to, have accomplished her designs by
means of her numerous armies, by means of
those fleets which cover the ocean ? Must those
who are masters of two thirds of the trade of
the world ; who have in their hands the power
which almighty gold can give; who possess a
species of wealth that increases with their de
sires; must they establish their conquest with
our insignificant innocent blood !
Must I then bid farewell to Britain, to that
renowned country? Must I renounce a name
so ancient and so venerable ? Alas, she herself,
that once indulgent parent, forces me to take up
arms against her. She herself, first inspired the
most unhappy citizens of our remote districts,
with the thoughts of shedding the blood of
those whom they used to call by the name of
friends and brethren. That great nation which
now convulses the world; which hardly knows
the extent of her Indian kingdoms; which looks
toward the universal monarchy of trade, of
industry, of riches, of power: why must she
strew

298 DISTRESSES OF
strew our poor frontiers with the carcasses of
her friends, with the wrecks of our insignificant
villages, in which there is no gold ? When, op
pressed by painful recollection, I revolve all
these scattered ideas in my mind, when I con
template my situation, and the thousand
streams of evil with which I am surrounded;
when I descend into the particular tendency
even of the remedy I have proposed, I am con
vulsed — convulsed sometimes to that degree,
as to be tempted to exclaim — Why has the
master of the world permitted so much indis
criminate evil throughout every part of this
poor planet, at all times, and among all kinds
of people? It ought surely to be the punish
ment of the wicked only. I bring that cup to
my lips, of which I must soon taste, and shud
der at its bitterness. What then is life, I ask
myself, is it a gracious gift? No, it is too
bitter; a gift means something valuable con
ferred, but life appears to be a mere accident,
and of the worst kind: we are born to be~vic-
tims of diseases and passions, of mischances
and death: better not to be than to be miser
able. — Thus impiously I roam, I fly from one
erratic thought to another, and my mind, ir
ritated by these acrimonious reflections, is
ready sometimes to lead me to dangerous ex
tremes of violence. When I recollect that I
am

A FRONTIER MAN. 299
am a father, and a husband, the return of these
endearing ideas strikes deep into my heart.
Alas ! they once made it to glow with pleasure
and with every ravishing exultation; but now
they fill it with sorrow. At other times, my
wife industriously rouses me out of these dread
ful meditations, and soothes me by all the rea
soning she is mistress of; but her endeavours
only serve to make me more miserable, by re
flecting that she must share with all these
calamities, the bare apprehensions of Which I
am afraid will subvert her reason. Nor can I
with patience think that a beloved wife, my
faithful helpmate, throughout all my rural
schemes, the principal hand which has assisted
me in rearing the prosperous fabric of ease and
independence I lately possessed, as well as my
children, those tenants of my heart, should
daily and nightly be exposed to such a cruel
fate. Self-preservation is above all political!
precepts and rules, and even superior to the 1
dearest opinions of our minds ; a reasonable ac
commodation of ourselves to the various exi
gencies of the time in which we live, is the most
irresistible precept. To this great evil I must
seek some sort of remedy adapted to remove or
to palliate it; situated as I am, what steps
should I take that will neither injure nor insult
any of the parties, and at the same time save
my

300 DISTRESSES OF
my family from that certain destruction which
awaits it, if I remain here much longer. Could
I insure them bread, safety, and subsistence,
not the bread of idleness, but that earned by
proper labouras heretofore; could this be ac
complished by the sacrifice of my life, I would
willingly give it up. I attest before heaven,
that it is only for these I would wish to live and
to toil: for these whom I have brought into
'this miserable existence. I resemble, methinks,
¦one of the stones of a ruined arch, still retain-
• ing that pristine form that anciently fitted the
• place I occupied, but the centre is tumbled
-down; I can be nothing until I am replaced,
•either in the former circle, or in some stronger
one. I see one on a smaller scale, and at a con-
- siderable distance, but it is within my power
: to reach it : and since I have ceased to consider
•myself as a member of the ancient state now
.convulsed, I willingly descend into an inferior
•one. I will revert into a state approaching
.. nearer to that of nature, unincumbered either
•with voluminous laws, or contradictory codes,
¦ often galling the very necks, of those whom
- they protect; and at the same time sufficiently
>- remote from the brutality of unconnected sav-
¦ age nature. Do you, my friend, perceive the
path I have found out ? it is that which leads to
the tenants of the great  village of

A FRONTIER MAN. 301
 , where, far removed from the accursed
neighbourhood of Europeans, its inhabitants!
live with more ease, decency, and peace, thans
you imagine: where, though governed by no
laws, yet find, in uncontaminated simple man
ners all that laws can afford. Their system is
sufficiently compleat to answer all the primary •
wants of man, and to constitute him a social
being, such as he ought to be in the great for
est of nature. There it is that I have resolved
at any rate to transport myself and family : an
eccentric thought, you may say, thus to cut
asunder all former connections, and to form
new ones with a people whom nature has
stamped with such different characteristics!
But as the happiness of my family is the only
object of my wishes, I care very little where we
be, or where we go, provided that we are safe,
and all united together. Our new calamities
being shared equally by all, will become
lighter; our mutual affection for each other,
will in this great transmutation become the
strongest link of our new society, will afford us
every joy we can receive on a foreign soil, and
preserve us in unity, as the gravity and coher
ency of matter prevents the world from disso
lution. Blame me not, it would be cruel in
you, it would beside be entirely useless; for
when you receive this we shall be on the wing.
When

302 DISTRESSES OF
When we think all hopes are gone, must we,
like poor pusillanimous wretches, despair and
die? No; I perceive before me a few re
sources, though through many dangers, which
I will explain to you hereafter. It is not, be
lieve me, a disappointed ambition which leads
( me to take this step, it is the bitterness of my
k situation, it is the impossibility of knowing
\what better measure to adopt: my education
intted me for nothing more than the most sim
ple occupations of life; I am but a feller of
trees, a cultivator of land, the most honourable
title an American can have. I have no ex
ploits, no discoveries, no inventions to boast
of; I have cleared about 370 acres of land,
some for the plough, some for the scythe ; and
this has occupied many years of my life. I
have never possessed, or wish to possess any
thing more than what could be earned or pro
duced by the united industry of my family. I
wanted nothing more than to live at home in
dependent and tranquil, and to teach my chil
dren how to provide the means of a future
ample subsistence, founded on labour, like that
of their father. This is the career of life I
have pursued, and that which I had marked
out for them and for which they seemed to be
so well calculated by their inclinations, and by
their constitutions. But now these pleasing ex
pectations

A FRONTIER MAN. 303
pectations are gone, we must abandon the ac
cumulated industry of nineteen years, we must
fly we hardly know whither, through the most
impervious paths, and become members of a
new and strange community. Oh, virtue! is
this all the reward thou hast to confer on thy
votaries? Either thou art only a chimera, or
thou art a timid useless being ; soon affrighted,
when ambition, thy great adversary, dictates,
when war re-echoes the dreadful sounds, and
poor helpless individuals are mowed down by
its cruel reapers like useless grass. I have at
all times generously relieved what few dis
tressed people I have met with; I have en
couraged the industrious ; my house has always
been opened to travellers; I have not lost a
month in illness since I have been a man; I
have caused upwards of an hundred and twenty
families to remove hither. Many of them I have
led by the hand in the days of their first trial;
distant as I am from any places of worship
or school of education, I have been the pastor
of my family, and the teacher of many of my
neighbours. I have learnt them as well as I
could, the gratitude they owe to God, the
father of harvests; and their duties to man: I
have been as useful a subject; ever obedient to
the laws, ever vigilant to see them respected
and observed. My wife hath faithfully fol
lowed

3o4 DISTRESSES OF
lowed the same line within her province; no
woman was ever a better oeconomist, or spun or
wove better linen; yet we must perish, perish
like wild beasts, included within a ring of fire !
Yes, I will chearfully embrace that resource,
it is an holy inspiration: by night and by
day, it presents itself to my mind : I have care
fully revolved the scheme; I have considered
in all its future effects and tendencies, the
new mode of living we must pursue, without
salt, without spices, without linen and with little
other cloathing; the art of hunting, we must
acquire, the new manners we must adopt, the
new language we must speak; the dangers
attending the education of my children we must
endure. These changes may appear more terrific
at a distance perhaps than when grown familiar
by practice: what is it to us, whether we eat
well made pastry, or pounded alagriches; well
roasted beef, or smoked venison; cabbages, or
squashes? Whether we wear neat home-spun,
or good beaver; whether we sleep on feather-
beds, or on bear-skins? The difference is not
worth attending to. The difficulty of the lan
guage, fear of some great intoxication among
the Indians; finally, the apprehension lest my
younger children should be caught by that sin
gular charm, so dangerous at their tender
years; are the only considerations that startle me.

A FRONTIER MAN. 305
me. By what power does it come to pass, that
children who have been adopted when young
among these people, can never be prevailed
on to re-adopt European manners? Many an
anxious parent I have seen last war, who at
the return of the peace, went to the Indian
villages where they knew their children had
been carried in captivity; when to their inex
pressible sorrow, they found them so perfectly
Indianized, that many knew them no longer,
and those whose more advanced ages permitted
them to recollect their fathers and mothers, ab
solutely refused to follow them, and ran to
their adopted parents for protection against the
effusions of love their unhappy real parents lav
ished on them ! Incredible as this may appear,
I have heard it asserted in a thousand instances,
among persons of credit. In the village of
 , where I purpose to go, there lived,
about fifteen years ago, an Englishman and a
Swede, whose history would appear moving,
had I time to relate it. They were grown to
the age of men when they were taken; they
happily escaped the great punishment of war
captives, and were obliged to marry the Squaws
who had saved their lives by adoption. By the
force of habit, they became at last thoroughly
naturalised to this wild course of life. While
I was there, their friends sent them a consider able

306 DISTRESSES OF
able sum of money to ransom themselves with.
The Indians, their old masters, gave them
their choice, and without requiring any con
sideration, told them, that they had been long
as free as themselves. They chose to remain;
and the reasons they gave me would greatly
surprise you: the most perfect freedom, the
ease of living, the absence of those cares and
corroding solicitudes which so often prevail
with us; the peculiar goodness of the soil they
cultivated, for they did not trust altogether to
hunting; all these, and many more motives,
which I have forgot, made them prefer that
life, of which we entertain such dreadful
opinions. It cannot be, therefore, so bad as
we generally conceive it to be ; there must be in
'their social bond something singularly capti
vating, and far superior to any thing to be
'boasted of among us; for thousands of Eu
ropeans are Indians, and we have no examples
'of even one of those Aborigines having from
choice become Europeans! There must be
something more congenial to our native dispo
sitions, than the fictitious society in which we
live; or else why should children, and even
grown persons, become in a short time so invin
cibly attached to it? There must be some
thing very bewitching in their manners, some
thing very indelible and marked by the very
hands

A FRONTIER MAN. 307
hands of nature. For, take a young Indian
lad, give him the best education you possibly
can, load him with your bounty, with presents,
nay with riches; yet he will secretly long for
his native woods, which you would imagine he
must have long since forgot; and on the first
opportunity he can possibly find, you will see
him voluntarily leave behind him all you have
given him, and return with inexpressible joy
to lie on the mats of his fathers. Mr.  ,
some years ago, received from a good old In
dian, who died in his house, a young lad, of
nine years of age, his grandson. He kindly
educated him with his children, and bestowed
on him the same care and attention in respect to
the memory of his venerable grandfather, who
was a worthy man. He intended to give him a
genteel trade, but in the spring season when all
the family went to the woods to make their
maple sugar, he suddenly disappeared; and it
was not until seventeen months after, that his
benefactor heard he had reached the village of
Bald Eagle, where he still dwelt. Let us say
what we will of them, of their inferiors organs,
of their want of bread, &c. they are as stout and
well made as the Europeans. Without temples, #"
without priests, without kings, and without •
laws, they are in many instances superior to us;1
and the proofs of what I advance, are, that'
they

308 DISTRESSES OF
they live without care, sleep without in
quietude, take life as it comes, bearing all its
asperities with unparalleled patience, and die
without any kind of apprehension for what
l they have done, or for what they expect to
' meet with hereafter. What system of phil
osophy can give us so many necessary qualifica
tions for happiness? They most certainly are
much more closely connected with nature than
we are; they are her immediate children, the
inhabitants of the woods are her undefiled off
spring : those of the plains are her degenerated
breed, far, very far removed from her prim
itive laws, from her original design. It is
therefore resolved on. I will either die in
the attempt or succeed; better perish all to
gether in one fatal hour, than to suffer what we
daily endure. I do not expect to enjoy in the
village of  , an uninterrupted happiness;
it cannot be our lot, let us live where we will ; I
am not founding my future prosperity on
golden dreams. Place mankind where you
will, they must always have adverse circum
stances to struggle with; from nature, acci
dents, constitution; from seasons, from that
great combination of mischances which perpet
ually lead us to new diseases, to poverty, &c.
Who knows but I may meet in this new situa
tion, some accident from whence may spring up

A FRONTIER MAN. 309
up new sources of unexpected prosperity? Who
can be presumptuous enough to predict all the
good? Who can foresee all the evils, which
strew the paths of our lives? But after all, I
cannot but recollect what sacrifice I am going
to make, what amputation I am going to
suffer, what transition I am going to experience.
Pardon my repetitions, my wild, my trifling re
flections, they proceed from the agitations of
my mind, and the fulness of my heart; the
action of thus retracing them seems to lighten
the burthen, and to exhilarate my spirits; this
is besides the last letter you will receive from
me; I would fain tell you all, though I hardly
know how. Oh ! in the hours, in the moments
of my greatest anguish, could I intuitively rep
resent to you that variety of thought which
crouds on my mind, you would have reason to
be surprised, and to doubt of their possibility.
Shall we ever meet again? If we should,
where will it be ? On the wild shores of  .
If it be my doom to end my days there, I will
greatly improve them ; and perhaps make room
for a few more families, who will choose to
retire from the fury of a storm, the agitated
billows of which will yet roar for many years
on our extended shores. Perhaps I may re
possess my house, if it be not burnt down; but
how will my improvements look? why half
defaced,

310 DISTRESSES OF
defaced, bearing the strong marks of abandon
ment, and of the ravages of war. However,
at present I give every thing over for lost; I
will bid a long farewell to what I leave behind.
If ever I repossess it, I shall receive it as a gift,
as a reward for my conduct and fortitude. Do
not imagine, however, that I am a stoic — by
no means : I must, on the contrary, confess to
you, that I feel the keenest regret, at aban
doning an house which I have in some measure
reared with my own hands. Yes, perhaps I
may never revisit those fields which I have
cleared, those trees which I have planted, those
meadows which, in my youth, were a hideous
wilderness, now converted by my industry into
rich pastures and pleasant lawns. If in Europe
it is praise-worthy to be attached to paternal
inheritances, how much more natural, how
much more powerful must the tie be with us,
who, if I may be permitted the expression, are
the founders, the creators of our own farms!
When I see my table surrounded with my
blooming offspring, all united in the bonds of
the strongest affection, it kindles in my paternal
heart a variety of tumultuous sentiments, which
none but a father and a husband in my situa
tion can feel or describe. Perhaps I may see
my wife, my children, often distressed, involun
tarily recalling to their minds the ease and
abundance

A FRONTIER MAN. 311
abundance which they enjoyed under the pa
ternal roof. Perhaps I may see them want that
bread which I now leave behind; overtaken by
diseases and penury, rendered more bitter by
the recollection of former days of opulence and
plenty. Perhaps I may be assailed on every
side by unforseen accidents, which I shall not
be able to prevent or to alleviate. Can I con
template such images without the most unutter
able emotions? My fate is determined; but
I have not determined it, you may assure your
self, without having undergone the most pain
ful conflicts of a variety of passions; — interest,
love of ease, disappointed views, and pleas
ing expectations frustrated; — I shuddered at
the review! Would to God I was master of
the stoical tranquillity of that magnanimous
sect; oh, that I were possessed of those sublime
lessons which Appollonius of Chalcis gave to
the Emperor Antoninus! I could then with
much more propriety guide the helm of my lit
tle bark, which is soon to be freighted with all
that I possess most dear on earth, through this
stormy passage to a safe harbour; and when
there, become to my fellow passengers, a surer
guide, a brighter example, a pattern more
worthy of imitation, throughout all the new
scenes they must pass, and the new career they
must traverse. I have observed notwithstand ing,

312 DISTRESSES OF
ing, the means, hitherto made use of, to arm
the principal nations against our frontiers : Yet
they have not, they will not take up the hatchet
against a people who have done them no harm.
The passions necessary to urge these people to
war, cannot be roused, they cannot feel the
stings of vengeance, the thirst of which alone
can compel them to shed blood: far superior
in their motives of action to the Europeans,
who for sixpence per day, may be engaged to
*shed that of any people on earth. They know
nothing of the nature of our disputes, they have
no ideas of such revolutions as this; a civil
'division of a village or tribe, are events which
•have never been recorded in their traditions:
many of them know very well that they have
too long been the dupes and the victims of both
parties; foolishly arming for our sakes, some
times against each other, sometimes against our
white enemies. They consider us as born on the
same land, and, though they have no reasons to
love us, yet they seem carefully to avoid en
tering into this quarrel, from whatever motives.
I am speaking of those nations with which I
am best acquainted, a few hundreds of the
worst kind mixed with whites, worse than them
selves, are now hired by Great Britain, to per
petuate those dreadful incursions. In my youth
I traded with the  , under the conduct of
my

A FRONTIER MAN. 313
my uncle, and always traded justly and equit
ably; some of them remember it to this day.
Happily their village is far removed from the
dangerous neighbourhood of the whites; I sent
a man, last spring to it, who understands the
woods extremely well, and who speaks their
language; he is just returned, after several
weeks absence, and has brought me, as I had
flattered myself, a string of thirty purple wam
pum, as a token that their honest chief will
spare us half of his wigwham until we have
time to erect one. He has sent me word that
they have land in plenty, of which they are not
so covetous as the whites; that we may plant
for ourselves, and that in the mean time he
will procure for us some corn and some meat;
that fish is plenty in the waters of  , and
that the village to which he had laid open my
proposals, have no objection to our becoming
dwellers with them. I have not yet communi
cated these glad tidings to my wife, nor .do I
know how to do it; I tremble lest she should
refuse to follow me; lest the sudden idea of
this removal rushing on her mind, might be too
powerful. I flatter myself I shall be able to
accomplish it, and to prevail on her; I fear
nothing but the effects of her strong attachment
to her relations. I would willingly let you
know how I purpose to remove my family to
so

3i4 DISTRESSES OF
so great a distance, but it would become unin
telligible to you, because you are not acquainted
with the geographical situation of this part of
the country. Suffice it for you to know, that
with about twenty-three miles land carriage, I
am enabled to perform the rest by water; and
when once afloat, I care not whether it be two
or three hundred miles. I propose to send all
our provisions, furniture, and clothes to my
wife's father, who approves of the scheme, and
to reserve nothing but a few necessary articles
of covering; trusting to the furs of the chase,
for our future apparel. Were we imprudently
to incumber ourselves too much with baggage,
we should never reach to the waters of  ,
which is the most dangerous as well as the
most difficut part of our journey; and yet but
a trifle in point of distance. I intend to say to
my negroes — In the name of God, be free, my
honest lads, I thank you for your past services ;
go, from henceforth, and work for yourselves;
look on me as your old friend, and fellow
labourer; be sober, frugal, and industrious, and
you need not fear earning a comfortable sub
sistence. — Lest my countrymen should think
that I am gone to join the incendiaries of our
frontiers, I intend to write a letter to Mr  ,
to inform him of our retreat, and of the rea
sons that have urged me to it. The man whom I sent

A FRONTIER MAN. 315
I sent to  village, is to accompany us also,
and a very useful companion he will be on every
account. You may therefore, by means of anticipa
tion, behold me under the Wigwham ; I am so
well acquainted with the principal manners of
these people, that I entertain not the least ap
prehension from them. I rely more securely on
thefc strong hospitality, than on the witnessed
compacts of many Europeans. As soon as pos
sible after my arrival, I design to build myself
a wigwham, after the same manner and size
with the rest, in order to avoid being thought
singular, or giving occasion for any railleries;
though these people are seldom guilty of such
European follies. I shall erect it hard by the
lands which they propose to allot me, and will
endeavour that my wife, my children, and my
self maybe adopted soon after our arrival. Thus
becoming truly inhabitants of their village, we
shall immediately occupy that rank within the
pale of their society, which will afford us all
the amends we can possibly expect for the loss
we have met with by the convulsions of our
own. According to their customs we shall
likewise receive names from them, by which we
shall always be known. My youngest children
shall learn to swim, and to shoot with the bow,
that they may acquire such talents as will nec
essarily

316 DISTRESSES OF
essarily raise them into some degree of esteem
among the Indian lads of their own age; the
rest of us must hunt with the hunters. I have
been for several years an expert marksman;
but I dread lest the imperceptible charm of
Indian education, may seize my younger chil
dren, and give them such a propensity to that
mode of life, as may preclude their returning
to the manners and customs of their parents.
I have but one remedy to prevent this great
evil ; and that is, to employ them in the labour
of the fields, as much as I can; I am even re
solved to make their daily subsistence depend
altogether on it. As long as we keep ourselves
busy in tilling the earth, there is no fear of any
of us becoming wild; it is the chase and the
food it procures, that have this strange effect.
Excuse a simile — those hogs which range in the
woods, and to whom grain is given once a
week, preserve their former degree of tame-
ness; but if, on the contrary, they are reduced
to live on ground nuts, and on what they can
get, they soon become wild and fierce. For my
part, I can plough, sow, and hunt, as occasion
may require; but my wife, deprived of wool,
and flax, will have no room for industry; what
is she then to do? like the other squaws, she
must cook for us the nasaump, the ninchicke,
and such other preparations of corn as are cus
tomary

A FRONTIER MAN. 317
tomary among these people. She must learn
to bake squashes and pumpkins under the
ashes; to slice and smoke the meat of our own
killing, in order to preserve it ; she must chear
fully adopt the manners and customs of her
neighbours, in their dress, deportment, conduct,
and internal ceconomy, in all respects. Surely
if we can have fortitude enough to quit all we
have, to remove so far, and to associate with
people so different from us; these necessary
compliances are but part of the scheme. The
change of garments, when those they carry with
them are worne out, will not be the least of
my wife's and daughter's concerns: though I
am in hopes that self-love will invent some sort
of reparation. Perhaps you would not believe
that there are in the woods looking-glasses, and
paint of every colour; and that the inhabitants
take as much pains to adorn their faces and
their bodies, to fix their bracelets of silver, and
plait their hair, as our forefathers the Picts
used to do in the time of the Romans. Not
that I would wish to see either my wife or
daughter adopt those savage customs; we can
live in great peace and harmony with them
without descending to every article; the inter
ruption of trade hath, I hope, suspended this
mode of dress. My wife understands inocu
lation perfectly well, she inoculated all our
children

318 DISTRESSES OF
children one after another, and has success
fully performed the operation on several scores
of people, who, scattered here and there
through our woods, were too far removed from
all medical assistance. If we can persuade but
one family to submit to it, and it succeeds, we
shall then be as happy as our situation will ad
mit of; it will raise her into some degree of
consideration, for whoever is useful in any so
ciety will always be respected. If we are so
fortunate as to carry one family through a
disorder, which is the plague among these peo
ple, I trust to the force of example, we shall
then become truly necessary, valued, and be
loved; we indeed owe every kind office to a
society of men who so readily offer to assist us
into their social partnership, and to extend to
my family the shelter of their village, the
strength of their adoption, and even the dignity
of their names. God grant us a prosperous be
ginning, we may then hope to be of more ser
vice to them than even missionaries who have
been sent to preach to them a Gospel they can
not understand.
As to religion, our mode of worship will
not suffer much by this removal from a cul
tivated country, into the bosom of the woods;
for it cannot be much simpler than that which
we have followed here these many years: and
I will

A FRONTIER MAN. 319
I will with as much care as I can, redouble
my attention, and twice a week, retrace to
them the great outlines of their duty to God
and to man. I will read and expound to them
some part of the decalogue, which is the
method I have pursued ever since I married.
Half a dozen of acres on the shores of
 , the soil of which I know well, will yield
us a great abundance of all we want; I will
make it a point to give the overplus to such In
dians as shall be most unfortunate in their
huntings; I will persuade them, if I can, to till
a little more land than they do, and not to
trust so much to the produce of the chase. To
encourage them still farther, I will give a quirn
to every six families; I have built many for
our poor back settlers, it being often the want
of mills which prevents them from raising
grain. As I am a carpenter, I can build my
own plough, and can be of great service to
many of them; my example alone, may rouse
the industry of some, and serve to direct others
in their labours. The difficulties of the lan
guage will soon be removed ; in my evening con
versations, I will endeavour to make them reg
ulate the trade of their village in such a manner
as that those pests of the continent, those Indian
traders, may not come within a certain distance ;
and there they shall be obliged to transact their
business

320 DISTRESSES OF
business before the old people. I am in hopes
that the constant respect which is paid to the
elders, and shame, may prevent the young
hunters from infringing this regulation. The
son of  , will soon be made acquainted with
our schemes, and I trust that the power of love,
and the strong attachment he professes for
my daughter, may bring him along with us : he
will make an excellent hunter; young and vig
orous, he will equal in dexterity the stoutest
man in the village. Had it not been for this
fortunate circumstance, there would have been
the greatest danger; for however I respect the
simple, the inoffensive society of these people
in their villages, the strongest prejudices would
make me abhor any alliance with them in
blood : disagreeable no doubt, to nature's inten
tions which have strongly divided us by so
many indelible characters. In the days of our
sickness, we shall have recourse to their medi
cal knowledge, which is well calculated for the
simple diseases to which they are subject. Thus
shall we metamorphose ourselves, from neat,
decent, opulent planters, surrounded with every
conveniency which our external labour and in
ternal industry could give, into a still simpler
people divested of every thing beside hope,
food, and the raiment of the woods: aban
doning the large framed house, to dwell under the

A FRONTIER MAN. 321
the wigwham; and the featherbed, to lie on
the matt, or bear's skin. There shall we sleep
undisturbed by fruitful dreams and apprehen- *
sions; rest and peace of mind will make us
the most ample amends for what we shall leave
behind. These blessings cannot be purchased
too dear; too long have we been deprived of
them. I would chearfully go even to the Mis
sissippi, to find that repose to which we have
been so long strangers. My heart sometimes
seems tired with beating, it wants rest like my
eye-lids, which feel oppressed with so many
watchings. These are the component parts of my scheme,
the success of each of which appears feasible;
from whence I flatter myself with the proba-
\, ble success of the whole. Still the danger of
^ ^ Indian education returns to my mind, and
^ (r^ alarms me much; then again I contrast it with
the education of the times; both appear to be
equally pregnant with evils. Reason points out
the necessity of chusing the least dangerous,
which I must consider as the only good within
my reach ; I persuade myself that industry and
labour will be a sovereign preservative against
the dangers of the former; but I consider, at
the same time, that the share of labour and in
dustry which is intended to procure but a simple
subsistence, with hardly any superfluity, cannot have

322 DISTRESSES OF
have the same restrictive effects on our minds as
when we tilled the earth on a more extensive
scale. The surplus could be then realized into
solid wealth, and at the same time that this
realization rewarded our past labours, it en
grossed and fixed the attention of the labourer,
and cherished in his mind the hope of future
friches. In order to supply this great deficiency
yof industrious motives, and to hold out to
^hem a real object to pttssamt the fatal con
sequences of this sort ofvpatny; I will keep an
(exact account of all that mSiLbe gathered, and
-give each of them a regular credit for the
-Amount of it to be paid them in real property
kat the return of peace. Thus, though seem
ingly toiling for bare subsistence on a foreign
land, they shall entertain the pleasing prospect
of seeing the sum of their labours one day real
ized either in legacies or gifts, equal if not su
perior to it. The yearly expence of the clothes
which they would have received at home, and
of which they will then be deprived; shall
likewise be added to their credit; thus I flatter
myself that they will more chearfully wear the
blanket, the matchcoat and the Mockassins.
Whatever success they may meet with in
hunting or fishing, shall only be considered
as recreation and pastime; I shall thereby pre
vent them from estimating their skill in the
chase

A FRONTIER MAN. 323
chase as an important and necessary accom
plishment. I mean to say to them: "You shall
" hunt and fish merely to shew your new com-
" panions that you are not inferior to them
" in point of sagacity and dexterity." Were
I to send them to such schools as the interior
parts of our settlements afford at present, what
can they learn there? How could I support
them there? What must become of me; am
I to proceed on my voyage, and leave them?
That I never could submit to. Instead of the
perpetual discordant noise of disputes so com
mon among us, instead of those scolding scenes,
frequent in every house, they will observe
nothing but silence at home and abroad: a
singular appearance of peace and concord are
the first characteristics which strike you in the
villages of these people. Nothing can be more
pleasing, nothing surprises an European so
much as the silence and harmony which prevails
among them, and in each family; except when
disturbed by that accursed spirit given them
by the wood rangers in exchange for their
furs. If my children learn nothing of geomet
rical rules, the use of the compass, or of the
Latin tongue, they will learn and practice so
briety, for rum can no longer be sent to these
people; they will learn that modesty and diffi
dence, for which the young Indians are so
remarkable ;

324 DISTRESSES OF
remarkable; they will consider labour as the
most essential qualification; hunting as the
second. They will prepare themselves in the
prosecution of our small rural schemes, car
ried on for the benefit of our little community,
to extend them further when each shall receive
his inheritance. Their tender minds will cease
to be agitated by perpetual alarms ; to be made
cowards by continual terrors: if they acquire
in the village of  , such an aukwardness of
deportment and appearance as would render
them ridiculous in our gay capitals, they will
imbibe, I hope, a confirmed taste for that sim
plicity, which so well becomes the cultivators
of the land. If I cannot teach them any of
those professions which sometimes embellish
and support our society, I will shew them how
to hew wood, how to construct their own
ploughs; and with a few tools how to supply
themselves with every necessary implement,
both in the house and in the field. If they
are hereafter obliged to confess, that they be
long to no one particular church, I shall have
the consolation of teaching them that great,
that primary worship which is the foundation
of all others. If they do not fear God accord
ing to the tenets of any one seminary; they shall
learn to worship him upon the broad scale of
nature. The Supreme Being does not reside in
peculiar

A FRONTIER MAN. 325
peculiar churches or communities ; he is equally
the great Maniton of the woods and of the
plains; and even in the gloom, the obscurity
of those very woods, his justice may be as well
understood and felt as in the most sumptuous
temples. Each worship with us, hath, you
know, its peculiar political tendency; there it
<has none but to inspire gratitude and truth:
[their tender minds shall receive no other idea
<oi the Supreme Being, than that of the father
>of all men, who requires nothing more of us
)than what tends to make each other happy.
'We shall say with them. Soungwaneha, esa
caurounkyawga, nughwonshauza neattewek,
nesalanga. — Our father, be thy will done in
earth as it is in great heaven.
Perhaps my imagination gilds too strongly
this distant prospect; yet it appears founded
on so few, and simple principles, that there
is not the same probability of adverse inci
dents as in more complex schemes. These
vague rambling contemplations which I here
faithfully retrace, carry me sometimes to a
great distance; I am lost in the anticipation
of the various circumstances attending this pro-
I posed metamorphosis! Many unforeseen ac
cidents may doubtless arise. Alas! it is easier
for me in all the glow of paternal anxiety, re
clined on my bed, to form the theory of my
future

326 DISTRESSES OF
future conduct, than to reduce my schemes into
practice. But when once secluded from the
great society to which we now belong, we shall
unite closer together; and there will be less
room for jealousies or contentions. As I intend
my children neither for the law nor the church,
but for the cultivation of the land; I wish them
no literary accomplishments; I pray heaven
that they may be one day nothing more than
expert scholars in husbandry : this is the science
which made our continent to flourish more
rapidly than any other. Were they to grow
up where I am now situated, even admitting
that we were in safety ; two of them are verging
toward that period in their lives, when they
must necessarily take up the musket, and learn,
in that new school, all the vices which are so
common in armies, Great God! close my eyes
for ever, rather than I should live to see this
calamity! May they rather become inhabi
tants of the woods.
Thus then in the village of  , in the
bosom of that peace it has enjoyed ever since
I have known it, connected with mild hos
pitable people, strangers to our political dis
putes, and having none among themselves; on
the shores of a fine river, surrounded with
woods, abounding with game ; our little society
united in perfect harmony with the new
adoptive

A FRONTIER MAN. 327
adoptive one, in which we shall be incorpor
ated, shall rest I hope from all fatigues, from
all apprehensions, from our perfect terrors, and
from our long watchings. Not a word of poli
tics, shall cloud our simple conversation; tired
either with the chase or the labour of the field,
we shall sleep on our mats without any dis
tressing want, having learnt to retrench every
superfluous one : we shall have but two prayers
to make to the Supreme Being, that he may
shed his fertilizing dew on our little crops, and
that he will be pleased to restore peace to our
unhappy country. These shall be the only sub
ject of our nightly prayers, and of our daily
ejaculations : and if the labour, the industry, the
frugality, the union of men, can be an agree
able offering to him, we shall not fail to
receive his paternal blessings. There I shall
contemplate nature in her most wild and ample
extent; I shall carefully study a species of so
ciety, of which I have at present but very im
perfect ideas ; I will endeavour to occupy with
propriety that place which will enable me to
enjoy the few and sufficient benefits it confers.
The solitary and unconnected mode of life I
have lived in my youth must fit me for this
trial, I am not the first who has attempted it;
Europeans did not, it is true, carry to the
wilderness numerous families; they went there as

328 DISTRESSES OF
as mere speculators ; I, as a man seeking a ref
uge from the desolation of war. They went
there to study the manner of the aborigines; I
to conform to them, whatever they are; some
went as visitors, as travellers ; I as a sojourner,
as a fellow hunter and labourer, go determined
industriously to work up among them such a
system of happiness as may be adequate to my
future situation, and may be a sufficient com
pensation for all my fatigues and for the mis
fortunes I have borne : I have always found it
at home, I may hope likewise to find it under
the humble roof of my wigwham.
O! Supreme Being if among the immense
variety of planets, inhabited by thy creative
power, thy paternal and omnipotent care deigns
to extend to all the individuals they contain;
if it be not beneath thy infinite dignity to cast
thy eye on us wretched mortals; if my future
felicity is not contrary to the necessary effects
of those secret causes which thou hast ap
pointed, receive the supplications of a man, to
whom in thy kindness thou hast given a wife
and an offspring: View us all with benignity,
sanctify this strong conflict of regrets, wishes,
and other natural passions; guide our steps
through these unknown paths, and bless our
future mode of life. If it is good andwellmeant,
it must proceed from thee; thou knowest, O
Lord,

A FRONTIER MAN. 329
Lord, our enterprise contains neither fraud, nor
malice, nor revenge. Bestow on me that
energy of conduct now become so necessary,
that it may be in my power to carry the young
family thou hast given me through this great
trial with safety and in thy peace. Inspire me
with such intentions and such rules of conduct
as may be most acceptable to thee. Preserve, O
God, preserve the companion of my bosom, the
best gift thou hast given me: endue her with
courage and strength sufficient to accomplish
this perilous journey. Bless the children of our
love, those portions of our hearts; I implore thy
divine assistance, speak to their tender minds,
and inspire them with the love of that virtue
which alone can serve as the basis of their con
duct in this world, and of their happiness with
thee. Restore peace and concord to our poor
afflicted country ; assuage the fierce storm which
has so long ravaged it. Permit, I beseech thee,
O Father of nature, that our ancient virtues,
and our industry, may not be totally lost : and
that as a reward for the great toils we have
made on this new land, we may be restored to
our ancient tranquillity, and enabled to fill it
with successive generations, that will constantly
thank thee for the ample subsistence thou hast
given them.
The unreserved manner in which I have
written,

330 DISTRESSES, &c.
written, must give you a convincing proof of
that friendship and esteem, of which I am
sure you never yet doubted. As members of the
same society, as mutually bound by the ties
of affection and old acquaintance, you certainly
cannot avoid feeling for my distresses; you
cannot avoid mourning with me over that load
of physical and moral evil with which we are
all oppressed. My own share of it I often
oveilook when I minutely contemplate all that
hath befallen our native country.
FINIS.

APPENDIX I.
LETTERS TO BENJAMIN FRANKLIN FROM MME.
DE HOUDETOT AND CREVECOEUR, RE
PRINTED FROM ORIGINALS IN THE AMER
ICAN HISTORICAL SOCIETY AT PHILA
DELPHIA.
From the Countess d' Houdetot.
[Translated from the French original.]
I was given to hope in the Spring, my dear
doctor, that I should see you some day at
Sanois, at the place where I preserve at least
a memory of the moments that you were
pleased to pass there, and where with tender
interest I still cultivate the monument which
you left of your stay. The losses which I have
experienced and the circumstances in which I
was placed, have not allowed me this year to
express to you in person my anxiety to see you
in my home, and to cultivate the good opinion
that you were kind enough to bestow upon me.
May I, my dear doctor, make use of it now, in
regard to a young American who has just ar
rived and who should have been presented and
recommended to you before ? He is a French man

332 APPENDIX I.
man by birth, but for a long time has been es
tablished in your country, under the protection
of your laws, to which he is faithful. He has
come here to see his family after having lost
the greater part of his possessions through the
present war. His name is Crevecoeur, and he
is the son of a friend, of more than twenty
years' standing, of my husband and myself. I
beg of you for him all the kindness and care
that are in your power and that circumstances
permit. All that I can add, my dear doctor,
to the sentiments of attachment and veneration
with which you have inspired me is the regret
not to be able to assure you of their continu
ance as warmly as I should like. It is with
these sentiments, my dear doctor, that I have
the honor to remain, during all my life, your
very humble and very obedient servant.
August io, 1781.
Kindly address your reply : Rue St. Honore
pres la place de Vendome.

Caen 27th Augt. 1781.
Sir: Chance Enabled me the other day to take
5 Americans by ye hand who had fortunately
escaped from ye English prisons & Crossed the
Channell, — Luckily for me as well as for them
I was

APPENDIX I. 333
I was Just arrived from N. America : where I
have resided 27 years — I brought them to my
father's Seat, who Tells me that he had Several
Times the pleasure of dining with you at the
Count de Houdetot's — the Capt. of ye boat
readily put them under my Care, thence I
brought them here, and presented them to ye
Count de Blanchy the Commandant of this
Province, who received them with Kindness and
left them under my Care — they gave their dec
larations before the admiralty, & were duly
acknowledg'd to be Americans — as they are
genteel discreet men from the Massachusets
I have placed them in a good House and pro
cured them the Hospitality of the City — all
went on well when I heard that their boat be
longed of right to the Duke of Ponthievre — In
consequence of this Information I visited the
Intendent's, who Told me that if I wrote a
petition in their name to the admiral, he would
Inclose it in a Letter of his & recommend the
contents; this I have done & thought it my
duty to send you a Copy of ye Same, that you
may if necessary unite your good Endeavours
in order to procure to the 5 brave men the
Slender Plank on which they have reached this
shore — however, as it is uncertain, whether or
no the Ravens of office will not Swallow all —
I have procured them all they want — one of
the

334 APPENDIX I.
the Company Luckily heard Yesterday that his
brother was the Second in Command on board
the black Princess — him I have sent off by the
Post, with a Sufficient Passeport — the other in
tend for L'orient as soon as they have heard
from you — that space of Time they shall pass
at my Father's house —
The adventure of these Men as well as that
of many more who have Landed here, hath
Suggested me an Idea which I beg to Com
municate — Policy as well as humanity points
out the Necessity of appointing in these Ports
some Persons who shou'd have proper author
ity to claim protect and befriend all such Amer
icans as shoud Land on this Coast — by those
simple Means those people woud find protec
tion everywhere & not be exposed as many
of them are to be treated as English prisoners,
which Treatment Tends to Nourish prejudices,
that ought to be extinguished — if from the In
formation you might receive of me from the
Count de Houdetot you thought me capable of
discharging this office I'd readily accept of it
without either fee or Reward, glad on the con
trary as a good Frenchman and as a good
American to contribute my Mite towards the
Success of this grand this usefull revolution —
Excuse this Letter it is Zeal and the purest Zeal
woh hath dictated it; with so much the more
confidence

APPENDIX I. 335
confidence that tho' I have not the pleasure of
being acquainted with you, yet I well know Mr
John Jay now in Spaign, Mr Governor Morris,
Mr. Duwane5 &c. & all the New York dele
gates — I hope the representations these 5
Americans have made you will be Successfull,
for they are worthy of your patronage. I hope
also that you will approve my conduct and In
tentions. I Remain with the most unfeigned Respect
Your very Humble Servant St. John.
At Mr- Le Mozier Merchd- Rue St. Jean —

Caen, Sept. 26, 1781.
Sir: Yes Sir I am the Same Person whom
Madame La Comtesse de Houdetot has been
so kind as to mention to you, — the Reason of
this mistake proceeds from the Singularity of
ye french Customs, which renders their Names,
allmost arbitrary, & often leads them to for
get their Family ones; it is in Consequence of
this, that there are more alias dictios in this
than in any other Country in Europe, the name
of our Family is St. Jean, in English St. John,
a name as Antient as the Conquest of England
by Wm- the Bastard. —
I am

336 APPENDIX I.
I am so great a Stranger to the manners of
this, tho' my native Country (having quitted it
very young) that I never dreamt I had any
other, than the old family name — I was greatly
astonished when at my late return, I saw my
self under the Necessity of being Called by
that of Crevecoeur, — Excuse this Tedious ex
planation, which I hope you will not think Im
proper, as I have run the risk of either remain
ing unknown to you, or of Loosing the good
effects which were Intended by Madame la
Comtesse de Houdetot in mentioning me to
you — I don't mean to be Troublesome, very
far from it, I am much more ambitious of ye
Honor of your Esteem than of any thing else;
I flatter myself with being able to Cultivate
that of your acquaintance this Winter — being
invited to spend [letter torn] Le Marquis de
Turgot's house brother to ye Late Comptrolleur
general — the Intendant of the City has thought
proper to write to ye Insignificant admiralty
of Bayuex, in consequence of which I have
been put in posession of ye wherry in which the
5 americans Came over; this has prevented the
Intendant from Sending to ye admiral the Me
morial, a copy of which I had taken the
Liberty to send you. No Sooner had I re
ceived the wherry than I offered it to ye In
tendant who accepted of it — as soon as he make me

APPENDIX I. 337
me some pecuniary Present, which I expect, I
have informed my friends at Lorient to draw
on me for the Sum granted whatever it will be
— I have not Seen the Intendant yet —
Poor Colol : Pal fry6 I am Sincerely sorry for
him; after having served his Country in the
field, he wou'd have greatly have Served her
here also, where such an Establishment is so
Necessary — I earnestly wish them another
equally capable may succeed him — the English
Language being Common to both the Ameri
cans as well as to the Inhabitants of Great
Britain the former become often Exposed to
be Treated as Ennemies Instead of being taken
by the hand & received as Friends —
I thank you very kindly for your reccomen-
dations, I make no doubt of their Weight
I have the honor to be with unfeigned Re
spect Sir Your Very Humble Servant
St. John De Crevecoeur
Chez Mr- Le Mozier Marchd Rue S1- Jean
Caen —
[Translated from the French original.]
The gentleman who recommended himself,
my dear doctor, as coming from me, and under
the name of St. John, is the one of whom I had
the honor of speaking to you under the name of
Crevecoeur

338 APPENDIX I.
Crevecoeur which is borne by his father, whose
friend I have been for twenty years. As the
son has not been living in this country I have
no personal knowledge of him, but I have al
ways heard him well spoken of by his father,
and it is for his sake, my dear doctor, that I
claim your kindness for his son. I know that
he is very much attached to the United States
and that no one has felt more than he the
calamities attendant upon the present war. I
therefore beg of you, my dear doctor, to do
everything for him that your affairs permit. I
have been unwell for several days and could not
answer your letter sooner. I hope, my dear
doctor, that Winter will enable me to see you
again. In the mean time, give me a little place
in your remembrance, and be well assured of
all the sentiments of attachment, of esteem, and
of veneration, with which I have the honor to
be, my dear doctor, your very humble and very
obedient servant.
(Signed) La Comtesse d'Houdetot.
Sanois, Oct. 30, 1781.

Caen 5th Dec1" 178 1
Sir: The news of the great victory lately gained
in Virginia by that wise & excellent man
General

APPENDIX I. 339
General Washington, must necessarily convulse
with joy the hearts of every loyal American
as well as those of every good Frenchman. I
who enjoy the Privileges of this double citizen
ship have thought it my duty to congratulate,
on this memorable event the representatif of
the former Society — a Society to which I have
belonged 27 years, receive then, I pray, with
your usual kindness, my most sincere congratu
lations on this memorable event which I would
fain hope, must place the keystone to the
strong arch of our American Independency and
give peace to the world.
I am with the highest esteem & the most
unfeigned Respect Sir
Your very humble servant
S*- Jean de Crevecoeur.
P.S. — The Americans who escaped from
England last summer are happily embark'd at
Nantes for Newberry in the State of Massa
chusetts.

[Translated from the French original.]
The Countess d'Houdetot who has the
honor of sending a thousand tender compli
ments to M. Franklin begs of him kindly to
cause this package to be sent to America. It
belongs

340 APPENDIX I.
belongs to M. St. John de Crevecoeur to whom
he has already rendered this service for her
sake. M. de St. John is likewise anxious to
know whether M. Franklin has received and
accepted a book on the troubles and misfor
tunes of America which he had the honor of
sending him.* Madame de Houdetot hopes
that M. Franklin's health is good. She begs
him to accept the assurance of her tender at
tachment. M. St. John de Crevecoeur's ad
dress is care of M. de Lile, lieutenant-general
of Baillage [Sic] at Caen.
Sanois.f Oct. 18, 1782.
I have been Wittness whilst I was in Amer
ica of a CirCumstance which I think, it Im
ports Your Excellency to Know; my Good In
tention will I hope, apologyse for the Liberty
I am taking, if your Excellency is acquainted
With it; if unknown, it is Certainly my duty as
a good Cytysen of that Country to Inform you
of what Follows —
In the year 1775 Samuel Bayard Junior
deputy

*That is, the volume here reprinted.
tThe chateau which Mme d'Houdetot owned at Sanois
was destroyed ; but the house which she occupied at Eau-
bonne exists unchanged. The grove, the water-fall, even
the acacia of which Rousseau speaks may still be
seen . . . — Note of M. Musset-Pattay. Vide the "Con
fessions," pt. ii. bk. ix.

APPENDIX I. 341
deputy Secretary of the then Province of New
York, was ordered by ye Convention to the
house of Nicholas Bayard a Mile out of Town,
in order to Watch over the records of the Prov
ince, then under the Guard of a Capt. & 30
Men ; Some time after, they were Transported
to Kingston on the North River, Vulgarily
Called Eusopus; under the Guard of the Same
Person, & the Same Military Party ; 1 8 Months
after the said Samuel Bayard, Contrary to ye
oath he had Taken to ye Convention, found
Means of Sending that part of those Records
which Contained the Grant of Lands &ca to
Govr Tryon then on board the Dutchess of
Gordon; Since that, they have been Conveyed
to the Tower of London, where they now are ;
those papers, fortunately become useless to G.
Britain, at the return of the Peace, must be of
the Greatest Consequence to that State, be
cause, as you well Know, they Contain not only
the Title of Lands but the Copy of Wills &c.
I cannot Terminate this Letter Without taking
the Liberty of Congratulating your Excellency,
not only as a Man, an European, a Gaul, but
as an American Cytisen, on the happy, thrice
happy revolution, which you have began Con
ducted & Terminated With So much Wisdom ;
hence forth Will begin a New Era in the an
nals of Mankind, far more Interesting than
those

342 APPENDIX I.
those absurd revolutions which have hitherto
Stained the Earth With Blood Without
meliorating it; May Nature Extend your days
to the utmost Verge, to the End you may See
ye Misfortunes of War repaired the Energy of
this new people, the Wisdom of their Laws,
the Industry of those New States admired &
respected by all nations. — Permit me to add
that I am the Person who under the Name of
St. Jean de Crevecoeur had the honor of dining
With your Excellency Last March, With ye
Comtesse de Houdetot & who last July Sent
you, by the hands of Mr. Turgot a book In-
titled, Letters of An American Farmer. —
I am With the most unfeigned Respect
Your Excellency's Most obedient Humble Servant
H. St. John.
Chez Mr- Le Marquis
de Blangy Lieut-General
Caen-Normandie
3dJany 1783.

[Translated from the French original.]
M. de Crevecoeur is very anxious, my dear
doctor, for an answer which he expects from
you in regard to the matter of which he spoke to

APPENDIX I. 343
to you recently. As he is obliged to give an
account of it to M. de Castries, it is very im
portant that he should receive this answer, and
he thought that I might help to hasten it. The
esteem in which I hold him and the extreme
interest which I have in him will not permit
me to refuse, knowing very well the embarrass
ment into which your failure to reply would
put him with M. de Castries, with whom he
has an interview on Friday not only in regard
to that matter but to others of importance to
him. I still hope, my dear doctor, to have the
pleasure of seeing you at 8 o'clock on Thurs
day. You know how great a value I place on
this meeting. La Ctesse d' Houdetot.
Will you kindly send me by the porter a
muff which I left at your house?
Wednesday, April 2, 1783.
Caen ist July 1786
Your Excellency :
I Embrace with Great Pleasure the Favour
able, opportunity of Mr- Dejean's Return to
Philadelphia, in order to present my Respects
to Your Excellency : — the Good Marquis dela
Fayette and I, we had conceived Strong Hopes
of seeing him appointed Agent for Georgia
from whence it was Probable the Minister wou'd

344 APPENDIX I.
wou'd draw annually a large quantity of Life
Oak — but the Northern Contractors have been
too Successfull, and have destroyed all Mr-
Dejean Expectation; he is the bearer of a Let
ter from the Good Comtesse de Houdetot, who
has warmly Interested herself in his behalf; I
hope the Situation of his affairs & your Ex
cellency's Influence will Enable him to Return,
& dwell once more in his house at Detroit in
Peace & Security.
I have the Honor of being with the High
est Consideration and Respect
Your Excellency's Most obedient Humble servant
St. John de Crevecoeur.

Sir: I forgot the other day To Inquire of you
when I cou'd procure Two of your Medals
which I have Imprudentely promised in Nor
mandy — after Fruitless Inquiry, I find myself
obliged to ask you that Question being anxious
To procure them ere I leave the Capitol which
will be on Saturday —
I am with unfeigned Respect
Sir Your Very Humble Servt
St. Jean de Crevecoeur.
Paris, Tuesday Night — Sir:

APPENDIX I. 345
Sir: The Marquis de Cartier shew'd me Yester
day the Model of y' Edict which he proposes
obtaining for the Establishment of the 5
Pacquet boats — I desired him to Send it to
you, Ere he has presented it, which he will
shortly do, I beg you'd Read it attentively &
send him back all your observations thereon, —
Woud you be Kind Enough to Inform the
Comtesse de Houdetot, in what part of the
Town that big Wire is to be had, that She may
place a second Electrical Rod.
I am with Respect
Sir Your Very Humble Servt.
St. John.
[No date.]

New York,  1787.
Sir: Having lately cross' d the Ocean with the
commodore Paul Jones, I embrace the oppor
tunity of his going to Philadelphia to transmit
your Excellency a Bundle which Mr. Short7
gave me, a Letter from the good Comtesse de
Houdetot, & the Second Edition of the
American Farmer's Letters, with the addition
of a 3d Volume, which please to accept as a
well

346 APPENDIX I.
well meant Testimony, of the Veneration & un-
feign'd Respect of the author, as well as of the
Man. — Let me beg that whenever your Excel
lency shall think fit to Send an answer to the
good Comtesse's Letter it may be conveyed to
me, that I may forward it in the safest manner.
I am with the most sincere Respect and
Esteem
Your Excellency's, Most obedient humble
Servant St. John de Crevecoeur,

New York the 30th Jany 1788
Sir: Having accidentally become acquainted with
a Mr. Fitch8 from your City, whose curious ex
periment on the Delaware I had much heard
of; I ask'd him a great many questions con
cerning his new method of applying the power
of Steam, to which he answer'd with much dif
fidence & modesty, and communicated to me
several Certificates from several of the most
respectable persons in Philadelphia, a Copy
of one of which I hereby transmit you.
Anxious to know how far you think it may be
rendered useful for inland Navigation, I take
the liberty of asking your opinion concerning
this new Invention of which I make no doubt you

APPENDIX I. 347
you have often heard. Embracing this oppor
tunity of recalling myself to your memory give
me leave to present you with the assurances of
my unfeigned respect.
Your Excellency's
Most Obedient humble Servant
St. John.
New Yorke 12th March 1788
Sir: I duely Received the Letter you honored
me with Some Time before the Packet Sailed,
With one Inclosed for our mutual & very Re
spectable Friend the Comtesse de Houdetot,
which I forwarded along with mine, by a Pas
senger who was bound to Paris; this Vessel
Sailed 24 days ago; — I am much obliged to
you for your opinion concerning the Steam
boat, & am in great hopes that the Encour
agement, which it is Likely Mr. Fitch will ob
tain from Congress will enable him to cheapen,
Simplify & render his Machine Still more use
ful — Like all other Inventions, it will no doubt
give his author a great deal of Trouble &
anxiety ere he has brought it to its last degree
of Perfection — I wish most Sincerely that he
may Succeed, & then will he be, most Justly
Intitled to the Thanks & applause of both
America & Europe — I Recv'd

348 APPENDIX I.
I Recv'd yesterday your Letter of the 10th
Instant containing Two Packets, which will be
forwarded on Sunday, by a vessel bound to
Morlaix no Letters for the Gentm you men
tion have Reach'd my hands; if any ever should
rest assured that I shall Transmit them To
you by Some Safe hands — whenever you have
any for your Friends in Paris, I beg you'd
Freely Send them to me. I shall Take the
Same Care of them as I do of my own — With
the Most unfeigned esteem Veneration & Re
spect, I am Your very Humble Servt.
St. John de Crevecoeur.9

APPENDIX II.
NEW YORK CITY.
I770-I78I.
[Translated from the French edition, 1784.]
"The city of New York is handsome, al
though irregular. This irregularity proceeds
from the nature of the soil, from the steepness
of the peninsula on which the first houses were
built, as well as from the necessity of con
tinually forming artificial ground to increase
the extent of the city and procure for its trade
the needful warehouses and quays. The in
habitants derive this taste for building on the
water from the early Dutch settlers, and the
admirable skill with which they accomplish it
from their own wisdom. There is not, I be
lieve, another city on this Continent, where the
art of laying the foundations of quays and of
constructing them has been pushed further. I
have seen one built in forty feet of water. This
was done with trunks of pine trees fastened to
gether, which they drive in with rocks, the sur
face of which is then covered with earth. —
Beaver
349

350 APPENDIX II.
Beawer Street, which to-day is so far distant
from the sea, was named thus because formerly
it was a small bay in which these animals had
formed an embankment. I have conversed
with old inhabitants who told me that they had
seen the sea mount up to the very neighbor
hood of the City Hall.
Certain streets have side-walks on both sides
paved with slabs of rock, and adorned with
plane-trees whose shade in summer is equally
pleasant to the passers by and to the houses.
Here one finds a union of Dutch neatness with
English taste and architecture. The houses
are finished, placed, and painted with the great
est care. Here the merchants are intelligent,
able, and rich; and the artisans very skillful,
especially the carpenters, the cabinet makers
and the joiners. Stone being rare, nearly the
whole city is built of bricks. Let those who like
myself have experienced the extreme hospitality
of the New Yorkers praise it as it deserves.
New York being the constant meeting place
of the English packet-boats, this city is neces
sarily the first that European strangers enter.
The reception which they receive here is enough
to give them a high idea of American gen
erosity, as well as of the simple and cordial
friendliness which they are to expect in the
other cities of this Continent  The

APPENDIX II. 351
The streets are frequently cleaned, and are
lighted during the dark nights. The city con
tains three thousand four hundred houses,
twenty-eight thousand inhabitants, and twenty
churches belonging to different sects. It is a
pleasure to see also a College beautifully built.
It is furnished with an excellent library and
with a great number of costly mathematical
instruments. One regrets only that this new
academy has not been erected far from the
city, in some rural retreat, where the scholars
had been far removed from the tumults of busi
ness, and the dissipations and pleasures that are
so numerous in large cities. — Recently there
was built at a convenient distance from New
York, on an eminence not far from the Hud
son River, a magnificent hospital for sailors,
the architecture, situation, and establishing of
which do great honor to the good citizens who
founded it 
But nothing is more beautiful, and nothing
gives the reflective spectator a higher idea of
the city's wealth, or of the nature of its free
and happy commerce, than the multitude of
ships of all sizes, which continually tack about
in the bay, either to sail free of the harbor, or
to reach the city.

NOTES. NOTE I.
Abbe Raynal. — Guillaume-Thomas-Frangois
Raynal (1713-1796). The "Abbe Raynal"
was a literary free-lance of inexhaustible vigor
and fertility. He was a fierce controversialist,
and, in his own strident way, a lover of liberty.
His great reputation at the time of his death
caused booksellers to publish various works
under his name. Among the objects of his
fiercest attacks were the Inquisition and Euro
pean methods of colonization. Exiled from
France, he took refuge successively at the
Courts of Berlin and St. Petersburg, but re
turned to his native district during the Revo
lution. Some of his chief works were : "His
toire du divorce de Henri VIII. roi d' Angle-
terre, et de Catharine d' Aragon" (1763);
"Histoire philosophique et politique des etab-
lissements et du commerce des Europeens dans
les deux Indes" (1770), and "Tableau et
Revolution des colonies Anglaises de I'Amer-
ique Septentrionale."
NOTE 2.

NOTES. 353
NOTE 2.
Two maps, one of Nantucket and one of
Martha's Vineyard, appear in the original edi
tion, which it has been thought well to omit.
NOTE 3.
Crevecoeur's statements with regard to the
life of the Charleston gentry should be received
with caution. His sense for literary atmosphere
led him to exaggerate, almost to caricature,
elements in that life which were real enough,
but not of quite such tropical color.
note 4.
It is impossible to ascertain whether the Rus
sian gentleman supposed to have written this
letter had a real existence, or whether he was
merely a part of Crevecoeur's mystification;
probably the latter. note 5.
James Duane (1733-1797); a prominent
New York jurist, member of the Continental
Congress, and first Mayor of New York under
the city's new charter derived from the State
Legislature.

354 NOTES. note 6.
William Palfrey (1741-1780); aide of
Washington, and Paymaster-General. In 1780
he was appointed Consul-General to France by
a unanimous vote of Congress, but the ship
on which he sailed was lost with all on board.
note 7.
William Short (1 759-1 849); American
charge d'affaires in France in 1789.
NOTE 8.
John Fitch (1743-1798) ; explorer and in
ventor. He patented a steamboat in 1791.
note 9.
The letters given in Appendix I. were fur
nished with great kindness and courtesy by Pro
fessor Albert H. Smyth of Philadelphia, who
intended to present them first in the elaborate
edition of the works of Franklin, which he is
preparing. (Two Crevecoeur letters, pointed
out by him, but not available, are to be found
in the Duer Collection of the Pennsylvania His
torical Society and in the Stevens Collection
of Franklin papers in the Library of Congress
(No. 875), respectively. Letters to Creve-

NOTES. 355
coeur can be found in Bigelow's edition of
Franklin, ix., 4, and 457 (relative to Creve
coeur's plans with regard to oceanic packet-
boats, etc.) , and in P. L. Ford's edition of Jef
ferson, iv., 253 (relative to American paper
money) . For Washington's letter dealing with
Crevecoeur, see W. C. Ford's edition of Wash
ington, xi., 283.
An interesting detail given in Guyot de
Fere's article in the Nouville Biographie Gen
erate should not be overlooked. The kindness
shown by Crevecoeur to the five Americans, de
scribed in his letter of August 27, 1781, was
returned to him with interest. Learning of the
incident, a gentleman of Boston, by the name
of Fellows, was so much affected by it that
when later he heard that Crevecoeur's wife
was dead and his children in distress, the kind
man hastened from Boston to New York to
lend his aid. Vide, fournal de I'Empire, No
vember 21, 18 13, and Lair, Mem. de la Soe.
d'Agric. de Caen, 1823. See also Sabin's
Bibliotheca Americana for details as to the
translations of the Letters, which include both a
German and a Dutch version of 1784.

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