part in my good fortune. Besides, I wanted her assistance to supply me

with several necessaries, which before I was shy of letting anybody see

me have, that it might not be public; but now I had a cabin and room to

set things in, I ordered abundance of good things for our comfort in

the voyage, as brandy, sugar, lemons, etc., to make punch, and treat

our benefactor, the captain; and abundance of things for eating and

drinking in the voyage; also a larger bed, and bedding proportioned to

it; so that, in a word, we resolved to want for nothing in the voyage.

All this while I had provided nothing for our assistance when we should

come to the place and begin to call ourselves planters; and I was far

from being ignorant of what was needful on that occasion; particularly

all sorts of tools for the planter’s work, and for building; and all

kinds of furniture for our dwelling, which, if to be bought in the

country, must necessarily cost double the price.

So I discoursed that point with my governess, and she went and waited

upon the captain, and told him that she hoped ways might be found out

for her two unfortunate cousins, as she called us, to obtain our

freedom when we came into the country, and so entered into a discourse

with him about the means and terms also, of which I shall say more in

its place; and after thus sounding the captain, she let him know,

though we were unhappy in the circumstances that occasioned our going,

yet that we were not unfurnished to set ourselves to work in the

country, and we resolved to settle and live there as planters, if we

might be put in a way how to do it. The captain readily offered his

assistance, told her the method of entering upon such business, and how

easy, nay, how certain it was for industrious people to recover their

fortunes in such a manner. “Madam,” says he, “’tis no reproach to any

many in that country to have been sent over in worse circumstances than

I perceive your cousins are in, provided they do but apply with

diligence and good judgment to the business of that place when they

come there.”

She then inquired of him what things it was necessary we should carry

over with us, and he, like a very honest as well as knowing man, told

her thus: “Madam, your cousins in the first place must procure somebody

to buy them as servants, in conformity to the conditions of their

transportation, and then, in the name of that person, they may go about

what they will; they may either purchase some plantations already

begun, or they may purchase land of the Government of the country, and

begin where they please, and both will be done reasonably.” She bespoke

his favour in the first article, which he promised to her to take upon

himself, and indeed faithfully performed it, and as to the rest, he

promised to recommend us to such as should give us the best advice, and

not to impose upon us, which was as much as could be desired.

She then asked him if it would not be necessary to furnish us with a

stock of tools and materials for the business of planting, and he said,

“Yes, by all means.” And then she begged his assistance in it. She told

him she would furnish us with everything that was convenient whatever

it cost her. He accordingly gave her a long particular of things

necessary for a planter, which, by his account, came to about fourscore

or a hundred pounds. And, in short, she went about as dexterously to

buy them, as if she had been an old Virginia merchant; only that she

bought, by my direction, above twice as much of everything as he had

given her a list of.

These she put on board in her own name, took his bills of loading for

them, and endorsed those bills of loading to my husband, insuring the

cargo afterwards in her own name, by our order; so that we were

provided for all events, and for all disasters.

I should have told you that my husband gave her all his whole stock of

£108, which, as I have said, he had about him in gold, to lay out thus,

and I gave her a good sum besides; so that I did not break into the

stock which I had left in her hands at all, but after we had sorted out

our whole cargo, we had yet near £200 in money, which was more than

enough for our purpose.

In this condition, very cheerful, and indeed joyful at being so happily

accommodated as we were, we set sail from Bugby’s Hole to Gravesend,

where the ship lay about ten more days, and where the captain came on

board for good and all. Here the captain offered us a civility, which

indeed we had no reason to expect, namely, to let us go on shore and

refresh ourselves, upon giving our words in a solemn manner that we

would not go from him, and that we would return peaceably on board

again. This was such an evidence of his confidence in us, that it

overcame my husband, who, in a mere principle of gratitude, told him,

as he could not be in any capacity to make a suitable return for such a

favour, so he could not think of accepting of it, nor could he be easy

that the captain should run such a risk. After some mutual civilities,

I gave my husband a purse, in which was eighty guineas, and he put in

into the captain’s hand. “There, captain,” says he, “there’s part of a

pledge for our fidelity; if we deal dishonestly with you on any

account, ’tis your own.” And on this we went on shore.

Indeed, the captain had assurance enough of our resolutions to go, for

that having made such provision to settle there, it did not seem

rational that we would choose to remain here at the expense and peril

of life, for such it must have been if we had been taken again. In a

word, we went all on shore with the captain, and supped together in

Gravesend, where we were very merry, stayed all night, lay at the house

where we supped, and came all very honestly on board again with him in

the morning. Here we bought ten dozen bottles of good beer, some wine,

some fowls, and such things as we thought might be acceptable on board.

My governess was with us all this while, and went with us round into

the Downs, as did also the captain’s wife, with whom she went back. I

was never so sorrowful at parting with my own mother as I was at

parting with her, and I never saw her more. We had a fair easterly wind

sprung up the third day after we came to the Downs, and we sailed from

thence the 10th of April. Nor did we touch any more at any place, till,

being driven on the coast of Ireland by a very hard gale of wind, the

ship came to an anchor in a little bay, near the mouth of a river,

whose name I remember not, but they said the river came down from

Limerick, and that it was the largest river in Ireland.

Here, being detained by bad weather for some time, the captain, who

continued the same kind, good-humoured man as at first, took us two on

shore with him again. He did it now in kindness to my husband indeed,

who bore the sea very ill, and was very sick, especially when it blew

so hard. Here we bought in again a store of fresh provisions,

especially beef, pork, mutton, and fowls, and the captain stayed to

pickle up five or six barrels of beef to lengthen out the ship’s store.

We were here not above five days, when the weather turning mild, and a

fair wind, we set sail again, and in two-and-forty days came safe to

the coast of Virginia.

When we drew near to the shore, the captain called me to him, and told

me that he found by my discourse I had some relations in the place, and

that I had been there before, and so he supposed I understood the

custom in their disposing the convict prisoners when they arrived. I

told him I did not, and that as to what relations I had in the place,

he might be sure I would make myself known to none of them while I was

in the circumstances of a prisoner, and that as to the rest, we left

ourselves entirely to him to assist us, as he was pleased to promise us

he would do. He told me I must get somebody in the place to come and

buy us as servants, and who must answer for us to the governor of the

country, if he demanded us. I told him we should do as he should

direct; so he brought a planter to treat with him, as it were, for the

purchase of these two servants, my husband and me, and there we were

formally sold to him, and went ashore with him. The captain went with

us, and carried us to a certain house, whether it was to be called a

tavern or not I know not, but we had a bowl of punch there made of rum,

etc., and were very merry. After some time the planter gave us a

certificate of discharge, and an acknowledgment of having served him

faithfully, and we were free from him the next morning, to go wither we

would.

For this piece of service the captain demanded of us six thousand

weight of tabacco, which he said he was accountable for to his

freighter, and which we immediately bought for him, and made him a

present of twenty guineas besides, with which he was abundantly

satisfied.

It is not proper to enter here into the particulars of what part of the

colony of Virginia we settled in, for divers reasons; it may suffice to

mention that we went into the great river Potomac, the ship being bound

thither; and there we intended to have settled first, though afterwards

we altered our minds.

The first thing I did of moment after having gotten all our goods on

shore, and placed them in a storehouse, or warehouse, which, with a

lodging, we hired at the small place or village where we landed—I say,

the first thing was to inquire after my mother, and after my brother

(that fatal person whom I married as a husband, as I have related at

large). A little inquiry furnished me with information that Mrs. ——,

that is, my mother, was dead; that my brother (or husband) was alive,

which I confess I was not very glad to hear; but which was worse, I

found he was removed from the plantation where he lived formerly, and

where I lived with him, and lived with one of his sons in a plantation

just by the place where we landed, and where we had hired a warehouse.

I was a little surprised at first, but as I ventured to satisfy myself

that he could not know me, I was not only perfectly easy, but had a

great mind to see him, if it was possible to so do without his seeing

me. In order to that I found out by inquiry the plantation where he

lived, and with a woman of that place whom I got to help me, like what

we call a chairwoman, I rambled about towards the place as if I had

only a mind to see the country and look about me. At last I came so

near that I saw the dwellinghouse. I asked the woman whose plantation

that was; she said it belonged to such a man, and looking out a little

to our right hands, “there,” says she, “is the gentleman that owns the

plantation, and his father with him.” “What are their Christian names?”

said I. “I know not,” says she, “what the old gentleman’s name is, but

the son’s name is Humphrey; and I believe,” says she, “the father’s is

so too.” You may guess, if you can, what a confused mixture of joy and

fight possessed my thoughts upon this occasion, for I immediately knew

that this was nobody else but my own son, by that father she showed me,

who was my own brother. I had no mask, but I ruffled my hood so about

my face, that I depended upon it that after above twenty years’

absence, and withal not expecting anything of me in that part of the

world, he would not be able to know anything of me. But I need not have

used all that caution, for the old gentleman was grown dim-sighted by

some distemper which had fallen upon his eyes, and could but just see

well enough to walk about, and not run against a tree or into a ditch.

The woman that was with me had told me that by a mere accident, knowing

nothing of what importance it was to me. As they drew near to us, I

said, “Does he know you, Mrs. Owen?” (so they called the woman). “Yes,”

said she, “if he hears me speak, he will know me; but he can’t see well

enough to know me or anybody else”; and so she told me the story of his

sight, as I have related. This made me secure, and so I threw open my

hoods again, and let them pass by me. It was a wretched thing for a

mother thus to see her own son, a handsome, comely young gentleman in

flourishing circumstances, and durst not make herself known to him, and

durst not take any notice of him. Let any mother of children that reads

this consider it, and but think with what anguish of mind I restrained

myself; what yearnings of soul I had in me to embrace him, and weep

over him; and how I thought all my entrails turned within me, that my

very bowels moved, and I knew not what to do, as I now know not how to

express those agonies! When he went from me I stood gazing and

trembling, and looking after him as long as I could see him; then

sitting down to rest me, but turned from her, and lying on my face,

wept, and kissed the ground that he had set his foot on.

I could not conceal my disorder so much from the woman but that she

perceived it, and thought I was not well, which I was obliged to

pretend was true; upon which she pressed me to rise, the ground being

damp and dangerous, which I did accordingly, and walked away.

As I was going back again, and still talking of this gentleman and his

son, a new occasion of melancholy offered itself thus. The woman began,

as if she would tell me a story to divert me: “There goes,” says she,

“a very odd tale among the neighbours where this gentleman formerly

live.” “What was that?” said I. “Why,” says she, “that old gentleman

going to England, when he was a young man, fell in love with a young

lady there, one of the finest women that ever was seen, and married

her, and brought her over hither to his mother who was then living. He

lived here several years with her,” continued she, “and had several

children by her, of which the young gentleman that was with him now was

one; but after some time, the old gentlewoman, his mother, talking to

her of something relating to herself when she was in England, and of

her circumstances in England, which were bad enough, the

daughter-in-law began to be very much surprised and uneasy; and, in

short, examining further into things, it appeared past all

contradiction that the old gentlewoman was her own mother, and that

consequently that son was his wife’s own brother, which struck the

whole family with horror, and put them into such confusion that it had

almost ruined them all. The young woman would not live with him; the

son, her brother and husband, for a time went distracted; and at last

the young woman went away for England, and has never been heard of

since.”

It is easy to believe that I was strangely affected with this story,

but ’tis impossible to describe the nature of my disturbance. I seemed

astonished at the story, and asked her a thousand questions about the

particulars, which I found she was thoroughly acquainted with. At last

I began to inquire into the circumstances of the family, how the old

gentlewoman, I mean my mother, died, and how she left what she had; for

my mother had promised me very solemnly, that when she died she would

do something for me, and leave it so, as that, if I was living, I

should one way or other come at it, without its being in the power of

her son, my brother and husband, to prevent it. She told me she did not

know exactly how it was ordered, but she had been told that my mother

had left a sum of money, and had tied her plantation for the payment of

it, to be made good to the daughter, if ever she could be heard of,

either in England or elsewhere; and that the trust was left with this

son, who was the person that we saw with his father.

This was news too good for me to make light of, and, you may be sure,

filled my heart with a thousand thoughts, what course I should take,

how, and when, and in what manner I should make myself known, or

whether I should ever make myself know or no.

Here was a perplexity that I had not indeed skill to manage myself in,

neither knew I what course to take. It lay heavy upon my mind night and

day. I could neither sleep nor converse, so that my husband perceived

it, and wondered what ailed me, strove to divert me, but it was all to

no purpose. He pressed me to tell him what it was troubled me, but I

put it off, till at last, importuning me continually, I was forced to

form a story, which yet had a plain truth to lay it upon too. I told

him I was troubled because I found we must shift our quarters and alter

our scheme of settling, for that I found I should be known if I stayed

in that part of the country; for that my mother being dead, several of

my relations were come into that part where we then was, and that I

must either discover myself to them, which in our present circumstances

was not proper on many accounts, or remove; and which to do I knew not,

and that this it was that made me so melancholy and so thoughtful.

He joined with me in this, that it was by no means proper for me to

make myself known to anybody in the circumstances in which we then

were; and therefore he told me he would be willing to remove to any

other part of the country, or even to any other country if I thought

fit. But now I had another difficulty, which was, that if I removed to

any other colony, I put myself out of the way of ever making a due

search after those effects which my mother had left. Again I could

never so much as think of breaking the secret of my former marriage to

my new husband; it was not a story, as I thought, that would bear

telling, nor could I tell what might be the consequences of it; and it

was impossible to search into the bottom of the thing without making it

public all over the country, as well who I was, as what I now was also.

In this perplexity I continued a great while, and this made my spouse

very uneasy; for he found me perplexed, and yet thought I was not open

with him, and did not let him into every part of my grievance; and he

would often say, he wondered what he had done that I would not trust

him with whatever it was, especially if it was grievous and afflicting.

The truth is, he ought to have been trusted with everything, for no man

in the world could deserve better of a wife; but this was a thing I

knew not how to open to him, and yet having nobody to disclose any part

of it to, the burthen was too heavy for my mind; for let them say what

they please of our sex not being able to keep a secret, my life is a

plain conviction to me of the contrary; but be it our sex, or the man’s

sex, a secret of moment should always have a confidant, a bosom friend,

to whom we may communicate the joy of it, or the grief of it, be it

which it will, or it will be a double weight upon the spirits, and

perhaps become even insupportable in itself; and this I appeal to all

human testimony for the truth of.

And this is the cause why many times men as well as women, and men of

the greatest and best qualities other ways, yet have found themselves

weak in this part, and have not been able to bear the weight of a

secret joy or of a secret sorrow, but have been obliged to disclose it,

even for the mere giving vent to themselves, and to unbend the mind

oppressed with the load and weights which attended it. Nor was this any

token of folly or thoughtlessness at all, but a natural consequence of

the thing; and such people, had they struggled longer with the

oppression, would certainly have told it in their sleep, and disclosed

the secret, let it have been of what fatal nature soever, without

regard to the person to whom it might be exposed. This necessity of

nature is a thing which works sometimes with such vehemence in the

minds of those who are guilty of any atrocious villainy, such as secret

murder in particular, that they have been obliged to discover it,

though the consequence would necessarily be their own destruction. Now,

though it may be true that the divine justice ought to have the glory

of all those discoveries and confessions, yet ’tis as certain that

Providence, which ordinarily works by the hands of nature, makes use

here of the same natural causes to produce those extraordinary effects.

I could give several remarkable instances of this in my long

conversation with crime and with criminals. I knew one fellow that,

while I was in prison in Newgate, was one of those they called then

night-fliers. I know not what other word they may have understood it by

since, but he was one who by connivance was admitted to go abroad every

evening, when he played his pranks, and furnished those honest people

they call thief-catchers with business to find out the next day, and

restore for a reward what they had stolen the evening before. This

fellow was as sure to tell in his sleep all that he had done, and every

step he had taken, what he had stolen, and where, as sure as if he had

engaged to tell it waking, and that there was no harm or danger in it,

and therefore he was obliged, after he had been out, to lock himself

up, or be locked up by some of the keepers that had him in fee, that

nobody should hear him; but, on the other hand, if he had told all the

particulars, and given a full account of his rambles and success, to

any comrade, any brother thief, or to his employers, as I may justly

call them, then all was well with him, and he slept as quietly as other

people.

As the publishing this account of my life is for the sake of the just

moral of very part of it, and for instruction, caution, warning, and

improvement to every reader, so this will not pass, I hope, for an

unnecessary digression concerning some people being obliged to disclose

the greatest secrets either of their own or other people’s affairs.

Under the certain oppression of this weight upon my mind, I laboured in

the case I have been naming; and the only relief I found for it was to

let my husband into so much of it as I thought would convince him of

the necessity there was for us to think of settling in some other part

of the world; and the next consideration before us was, which part of

the English settlements we should go to. My husband was a perfect

stranger to the country, and had not yet so much as a geographical

knowledge of the situation of the several places; and I, that, till I

wrote this, did not know what the word geographical signified, had only

a general knowledge from long conversation with people that came from

or went to several places; but this I knew, that Maryland,

Pennsylvania, East and West Jersey, New York, and New England lay all

north of Virginia, and that they were consequently all colder climates,

to which for that very reason, I had an aversion. For that as I

naturally loved warm weather, so now I grew into years I had a stronger

inclination to shun a cold climate. I therefore considered of going to

Carolina, which is the only southern colony of the English on the

continent of America, and hither I proposed to go; and the rather

because I might with great ease come from thence at any time, when it

might be proper to inquire after my mother’s effects, and to make

myself known enough to demand them.

With this resolution I proposed to my husband our going away from where

we was, and carrying all our effects with us to Carolina, where we

resolved to settle; for my husband readily agreed to the first part,

viz. that was not at all proper to stay where we was, since I had

assured him we should be known there, and the rest I effectually

concealed from him.

But now I found a new difficulty upon me. The main affair grew heavy

upon my mind still, and I could not think of going out of the country

without somehow or other making inquiry into the grand affair of what

my mother had done for me; nor could I with any patience bear the

thought of going away, and not make myself known to my old husband

(brother), or to my child, his son; only I would fain have had this

done without my new husband having any knowledge of it, or they having

any knowledge of him, or that I had such a thing as a husband.

I cast about innumerable ways in my thoughts how this might be done. I

would gladly have sent my husband away to Carolina with all our goods,

and have come after myself, but this was impracticable; he would never

stir without me, being himself perfectly unacquainted with the country,

and with the methods of settling there or anywhere else. Then I thought

we would both go first with part of our goods, and that when we were

settled I should come back to Virginia and fetch the remainder; but

even then I knew he would never part with me, and be left there to go

on alone. The case was plain; he was bred a gentleman, and by

consequence was not only unacquainted, but indolent, and when we did

settle, would much rather go out into the woods with his gun, which

they call there hunting, and which is the ordinary work of the Indians,

and which they do as servants; I say, he would rather do that than

attend the natural business of his plantation.

These were therefore difficulties insurmountable, and such as I knew

not what to do in. I had such strong impressions on my mind about

discovering myself to my brother, formerly my husband, that I could not

withstand them; and the rather, because it ran constantly in my

thoughts, that if I did not do it while he lived, I might in vain

endeavour to convince my son afterward that I was really the same

person, and that I was his mother, and so might both lose the

assistance and comfort of the relation, and the benefit of whatever it

was my mother had left me; and yet, on the other hand, I could never

think it proper to discover myself to them in the circumstances I was

in, as well relating to the having a husband with me as to my being

brought over by a legal transportation as a criminal; on both which

accounts it was absolutely necessary to me to remove from the place

where I was, and come again to him, as from another place and in

another figure.

Upon those considerations, I went on with telling my husband the

absolute necessity there was of our not settling in Potomac River, at

least that we should be presently made public there; whereas if we went

to any other place in the world, we should come in with as much

reputation as any family that came to plant; that, as it was always

agreeable to the inhabitants to have families come among them to plant,

who brought substance with them, either to purchase plantations or

begin new ones, so we should be sure of a kind, agreeable reception,

and that without any possibility of a discovery of our circumstances.

I told him in general, too, that as I had several relations in the

place where we were, and that I durst not now let myself be known to

them, because they would soon come into a knowledge of the occasion and

reason of my coming over, which would be to expose myself to the last

degree, so I had reason to believe that my mother, who died here, had

left me something, and perhaps considerable, which it might be very

well worth my while to inquire after; but that this too could not be

done without exposing us publicly, unless we went from hence; and then,

wherever we settled, I might come, as it were, to visit and to see my

brother and nephews, make myself known to them, claim and inquire after

what was my due, be received with respect, and at the same time have

justice done me with cheerfulness and good will; whereas, if I did it

now, I could expect nothing but with trouble, such as exacting it by

force, receiving it with curses and reluctance, and with all kinds of

affronts, which he would not perhaps bear to see; that in case of being

obliged to legal proofs of being really her daughter, I might be at

loss, be obliged to have recourse to England, and it may be to fail at

last, and so lose it, whatever it might be. With these arguments, and

having thus acquainted my husband with the whole secret so far as was

needful of him, we resolved to go and seek a settlement in some other

colony, and at first thoughts, Carolina was the place we pitched upon.

In order to this we began to make inquiry for vessels going to

Carolina, and in a very little while got information, that on the other

side the bay, as they call it, namely, in Maryland, there was a ship

which came from Carolina, laden with rice and other goods, and was

going back again thither, and from thence to Jamaica, with provisions.

On this news we hired a sloop to take in our goods, and taking, as it

were, a final farewell of Potomac River, we went with all our cargo

over to Maryland.

This was a long and unpleasant voyage, and my spouse said it was worse

to him than all the voyage from England, because the weather was but

indifferent, the water rough, and the vessel small and inconvenient. In

the next place, we were full a hundred miles up Potomac River, in a

part which they call Westmoreland County, and as that river is by far

the greatest in Virginia, and I have heard say it is the greatest river

in the world that falls into another river, and not directly into the

sea, so we had base weather in it, and were frequently in great danger;

for though we were in the middle, we could not see land on either side

for many leagues together. Then we had the great river or bay of

Chesapeake to cross, which is where the river Potomac falls into it,

near thirty miles broad, and we entered more great vast waters whose

names I know not, so that our voyage was full two hundred miles, in a

poor, sorry sloop, with all our treasure, and if any accident had

happened to us, we might at last have been very miserable; supposing we

had lost our goods and saved our lives only, and had then been left

naked and destitute, and in a wild, strange place not having one friend

or acquaintance in all that part of the world. The very thought of it

gives me some horror, even since the danger is past.

Well, we came to the place in five days’ sailing; I think they call it

Philip’s Point; and behold, when we came thither, the ship bound to

Carolina was loaded and gone away but three days before. This was a

disappointment; but, however, I, that was to be discouraged with

nothing, told my husband that since we could not get passage to

Carolina, and that the country we was in was very fertile and good, we

would, if he liked of it, see if we could find out anything for our

tune where we was, and that if he liked things we would settle here.

We immediately went on shore, but found no conveniences just at that

place, either for our being on shore or preserving our goods on shore,

but was directed by a very honest Quaker, whom we found there, to go to

a place about sixty miles east; that is to say, nearer the mouth of the

bay, where he said he lived, and where we should be accommodated,

either to plant, or to wait for any other place to plant in that might

be more convenient; and he invited us with so much kindness and simple

honesty, that we agreed to go, and the Quaker himself went with us.

Here we bought us two servants, viz. an English woman-servant just come

on shore from a ship of Liverpool, and a Negro man-servant, things

absolutely necessary for all people that pretended to settle in that

country. This honest Quaker was very helpful to us, and when we came to

the place that he proposed to us, found us out a convenient storehouse

for our goods, and lodging for ourselves and our servants; and about

two months or thereabouts afterwards, by his direction, we took up a

large piece of land from the governor of that country, in order to form

our plantation, and so we laid the thoughts of going to Carolina wholly

aside, having been very well received here, and accommodated with a

convenient lodging till we could prepare things, and have land enough

cleared, and timber and materials provided for building us a house, all

which we managed by the direction of the Quaker; so that in one year’s

time we had nearly fifty acres of land cleared, part of it enclosed,

and some of it planted with tabacco, though not much; besides, we had

garden ground and corn sufficient to help supply our servants with

roots and herbs and bread.

And now I persuaded my husband to let me go over the bay again, and

inquire after my friends. He was the willinger to consent to it now,

because he had business upon his hands sufficient to employ him,

besides his gun to divert him, which they call hunting there, and which

he greatly delighted in; and indeed we used to look at one another,

sometimes with a great deal of pleasure, reflecting how much better

that was, not than Newgate only, but than the most prosperous of our

circumstances in the wicked trade that we had been both carrying on.

Our affair was in a very good posture; we purchased of the proprietors

of the colony as much land for £35, paid in ready money, as would make

a sufficient plantation to employ between fifty and sixty servants, and

which, being well improved, would be sufficient to us as long as we

could either of us live; and as for children, I was past the prospect

of anything of that kind.

But out good fortune did not end here. I went, as I have said, over the

bay, to the place where my brother, once a husband, lived; but I did

not go to the same village where I was before, but went up another

great river, on the east side of the river Potomac, called Rappahannock

River, and by this means came on the back of his plantation, which was

large, and by the help of a navigable creek, or little river, that ran

into the Rappahannock, I came very near it.

I was now fully resolved to go up point-blank to my brother (husband),

and to tell him who I was; but not knowing what temper I might find him

in, or how much out of temper rather, I might make him by such a rash

visit, I resolved to write a letter to him first, to let him know who I

was, and that I was come not to give him any trouble upon the old

relation, which I hoped was entirely forgot, but that I applied to him

as a sister to a brother, desiring his assistance in the case of that

provision which our mother, at her decease, had left for my support,

and which I did not doubt but he would do me justice in, especially

considering that I was come thus far to look after it.

I said some very tender, kind things in the letter about his son, which

I told him he knew to be my own child, and that as I was guilty of

nothing in marrying him, any more than he was in marrying me, neither

of us having then known our being at all related to one another, so I

hoped he would allow me the most passionate desire of once seeing my

one and only child, and of showing something of the infirmities of a

mother in preserving a violent affect for him, who had never been able

to retain any thought of me one way or other.

I did believe that, having received this letter, he would immediately

give it to his son to read, I having understood his eyes being so dim,

that he could not see to read it; but it fell out better than so, for

as his sight was dim, so he had allowed his son to open all letters

that came to his hand for him, and the old gentleman being from home,

or out of the way when my messenger came, my letter came directly to my

son’s hand, and he opened and read it.

He called the messenger in, after some little stay, and asked him where

the person was who gave him the letter. The messenger told him the

place, which was about seven miles off, so he bid him stay, and

ordering a horse to be got ready, and two servants, away he came to me

with the messenger. Let any one judge the consternation I was in when

my messenger came back, and told me the old gentleman was not at home,

but his son was come along with him, and was just coming up to me. I

was perfectly confounded, for I knew not whether it was peace or war,

nor could I tell how to behave; however, I had but a very few moments

to think, for my son was at the heels of the messenger, and coming up

into my lodgings, asked the fellow at the door something. I suppose it

was, for I did not hear it so as to understand it, which was the

gentlewoman that sent him; for the messenger said, “There she is, sir”;

at which he comes directly up to me, kisses me, took me in his arms,

and embraced me with so much passion that he could not speak, but I

could feel his breast heave and throb like a child, that cries, but

sobs, and cannot cry it out.

I can neither express nor describe the joy that touched my very soul

when I found, for it was easy to discover that part, that he came not

as a stranger, but as a son to a mother, and indeed as a son who had

never before known what a mother of his own was; in short, we cried

over one another a considerable while, when at last he broke out first.

“My dear mother,” says he, “are you still alive? I never expected to

have seen your face.” As for me, I could say nothing a great while.

After we had both recovered ourselves a little, and were able to talk,

he told me how things stood. As to what I had written to his father, he

told me he had not showed my letter to his father, or told him anything

about it; that what his grandmother left me was in his hands, and that

he would do me justice to my full satisfaction; that as to his father,

he was old and infirm both in body and mind; that he was very fretful

and passionate, almost blind, and capable of nothing; and he questioned

whether he would know how to act in an affair which was of so nice a

nature as this; and that therefore he had come himself, as well to

satisfy himself in seeing me, which he could not restrain himself from,

as also to put it into my power to make a judgment, after I had seen

how things were, whether I would discover myself to his father or no.

This was really so prudently and wisely managed, that I found my son

was a man of sense, and needed no direction from me. I told him I did

not wonder that his father was as he had described him, for that his

head was a little touched before I went away; and principally his

disturbance was because I could not be persuaded to conceal our

relation and to live with him as my husband, after I knew that he was

my brother; that as he knew better than I what his father’s present

condition was, I should readily join with him in such measure as he

would direct; that I was indifferent as to seeing his father, since I

had seen him first, and he could not have told me better news than to

tell me that what his grandmother had left me was entrusted in his

hands, who, I doubted not, now he knew who I was, would, as he said, do

me justice. I inquired then how long my mother had been dead, and where

she died, and told so many particulars of the family, that I left him

no room to doubt the truth of my being really and truly his mother.

My son then inquired where I was, and how I had disposed myself. I told

him I was on the Maryland side of the bay, at the plantation of a

particular friend who came from England in the same ship with me; that

as for that side of the bay where he was, I had no habitation. He told

me I should go home with him, and live with him, if I pleased, as long

as I lived; that as to his father, he knew nobody, and would never so

much as guess at me. I considered of that a little, and told him, that

though it was really no concern to me to live at a distance from him,

yet I could not say it would be the most comfortable thing in the world

to me to live in the house with him, and to have that unhappy object

always before me, which had been such a blow to my peace before; that

though I should be glad to have his company (my son), or to be as near

him as possible while I stayed, yet I could not think of being in the

house where I should be also under constant restraint for fear of

betraying myself in my discourse, nor should I be able to refrain some

expressions in my conversing with him as my son, that might discover

the whole affair, which would by no means be convenient.

He acknowledged that I was right in all this. “But then, dear mother,”

says he, “you shall be as near me as you can.” So he took me with him

on horseback to a plantation next to his own, and where I was as well

entertained as I could have been in his own. Having left me there he

went away home, telling me we would talk of the main business the next

day; and having first called me his aunt, and given a charge to the

people, who it seems were his tenants, to treat me with all possible

respect. About two hours after he was gone, he sent me a maid-servant

and a Negro boy to wait on me, and provisions ready dressed for my

supper; and thus I was as if I had been in a new world, and began

secretly now to wish that I had not brought my Lancashire husband from

England at all.

However, that wish was not hearty neither, for I loved my Lancashire

husband entirely, as indeed I had ever done from the beginning; and he

merited from me as much as it was possible for a man to do; but that by

the way.

The next morning my son came to visit me again almost as soon as I was

up. After a little discourse, he first of all pulled out a deerskin

bag, and gave it me, with five-and-fifty Spanish pistoles in it, and

told me that was to supply my expenses from England, for though it was

not his business to inquire, yet he ought to think I did not bring a

great deal of money out with me, it not being usual to bring much money

into that country. Then he pulled out his grandmother’s will, and read

it over to me, whereby it appeared that she had left a small

plantation, as he called it, on York River, that is, where my mother

lived, to me, with the stock of servants and cattle upon it, and given

it in trust to this son of mine for my use, whenever he should hear of

my being alive, and to my heirs, if I had any children, and in default

of heirs, to whomsoever I should by will dispose of it; but gave the

income of it, till I should be heard of, or found, to my said son; and

if I should not be living, then it was to him, and his heirs.

This plantation, though remote from him, he said he did not let out,

but managed it by a head-clerk (steward), as he did another that was

his father’s, that lay hard by it, and went over himself three or four

times a year to look after it. I asked him what he thought the

plantation might be worth. He said, if I would let it out, he would

give me about £60 a year for it; but if I would live on it, then it

would be worth much more, and, he believed, would bring me in about

£150 a year. But seeing I was likely either to settle on the other side

of the bay, or might perhaps have a mind to go back to England again,

if I would let him be my steward he would manage it for me, as he had

done for himself, and that he believed he should be able to send me as

much tobacco to England from it as would yield me about £100 a year,

sometimes more.

This was all strange news to me, and things I had not been used to; and

really my heart began to look up more seriously than I think it ever

did before, and to look with great thankfulness to the hand of

Providence, which had done such wonders for me, who had been myself the

greatest wonder of wickedness perhaps that had been suffered to live in

the world. And I must again observe, that not on this occasion only,

but even on all other occasions of thankfulness, my past wicked and

abominable life never looked so monstrous to me, and I never so

completely abhorred it, and reproached myself with it, as when I had a

sense upon me of Providence doing good to me, while I had been making

those vile returns on my part.

But I leave the reader to improve these thoughts, as no doubt they will

see cause, and I go on to the fact. My son’s tender carriage and kind

offers fetched tears from me, almost all the while he talked with me.

Indeed, I could scarce discourse with him but in the intervals of my

passion; however, at length I began, and expressing myself with wonder

at my being so happy to have the trust of what I had left, put into the

hands of my own child, I told him, that as to the inheritance of it, I

had no child but him in the world, and was now past having any if I

should marry, and therefore would desire him to get a writing drawn,

which I was ready to execute, by which I would, after me, give it

wholly to him and to his heirs. And in the meantime, smiling, I asked

him what made him continue a bachelor so long. His answer was kind and

ready, that Virginia did not yield any great plenty of wives, and that

since I talked of going back to England, I should send him a wife from

London.

This was the substance of our first day’s conversation, the pleasantest

day that ever passed over my head in my life, and which gave me the

truest satisfaction. He came every day after this, and spent a great

part of his time with me, and carried me about to several of his

friends’ houses, where I was entertained with great respect. Also I

dined several times at his own house, when he took care always to see

his half-dead father so out of the way that I never saw him, or he me.

I made him one present, and it was all I had of value, and that was one

of the gold watches, of which I mentioned above, that I had two in my

chest, and this I happened to have with me, and I gave it him at his

third visit. I told him I had nothing of any value to bestow but that,

and I desired he would now and then kiss it for my sake. I did not

indeed tell him that I had stole it from a gentlewoman’s side, at a

meeting-house in London. That’s by the way.

He stood a little while hesitating, as if doubtful whether to take it

or no; but I pressed it on him, and made him accept it, and it was not

much less worth than his leather pouch full of Spanish gold; no, though

it were to be reckoned as if at London, whereas it was worth twice as

much there, where I gave it him. At length he took it, kissed it, told

me the watch should be a debt upon him that he would be paying as long

as I lived.

A few days after he brought the writings of gift, and the scrivener

with them, and I signed them very freely, and delivered them to him

with a hundred kisses; for sure nothing ever passed between a mother

and a tender, dutiful child with more affection. The next day he brings

me an obligation under his hand and seal, whereby he engaged himself to

manage and improve the plantation for my account, and with his utmost

skill, and to remit the produce to my order wherever I should be; and

withal, to be obliged himself to make up the produce £100 a year to me.

When he had done so, he told me that as I came to demand it before the

crop was off, I had a right to produce of the current year, and so he

paid me £100 in Spanish pieces of eight, and desired me to give him a

receipt for it as in full for that year, ending at Christmas following;

this being about the latter end of August.

I stayed here about five weeks, and indeed had much ado to get away

then. Nay, he would have come over the bay with me, but I would by no

means allow him to it. However, he would send me over in a sloop of his

own, which was built like a yacht, and served him as well for pleasure

as business. This I accepted of, and so, after the utmost expressions

both of duty and affection, he let me come away, and I arrived safe in

two days at my friend’s the Quaker’s.

I brought over with me for the use of our plantation, three horses,

with harness and saddles, some hogs, two cows, and a thousand other

things, the gift of the kindest and tenderest child that ever woman

had. I related to my husband all the particulars of this voyage, except

that I called my son my cousin; and first I told him that I had lost my

watch, which he seemed to take as a misfortune; but then I told him how

kind my cousin had been, that my mother had left me such a plantation,

and that he had preserved it for me, in hopes some time or other he

should hear from me; then I told him that I had left it to his

management, that he would render me a faithful account of its produce;

and then I pulled him out the £100 in silver, as the first year’s

produce; and then pulling out the deerskin purse with the pistoles,

“And here, my dear,” says I, “is the gold watch.” My husband—so is

Heaven’s goodness sure to work the same effects in all sensible minds

where mercies touch the heart—lifted up both hands, and with an ecstacy

of joy, “What is God a-doing,” says he, “for such an ungrateful dog as

I am!” Then I let him know what I had brought over in the sloop,

besides all this; I mean the horses, hogs, and cows, and other stores

for our plantation; all which added to his surprise, and filled his

heart with thankfulness; and from this time forward I believe he was as

sincere a penitent, and as thoroughly a reformed man, as ever God’s

goodness brought back from a profligate, a highwayman, and a robber. I

could fill a larger history than this with the evidence of this truth,

and but that I doubt that part of the story will not be equally

diverting as the wicked part, I have had thoughts of making a volume of

it by itself.

As for myself, as this is to be my own story, not my husband’s, I

return to that part which related to myself. We went on with our

plantation, and managed it with the help and diversion of such friends

as we got there by our obliging behaviour, and especially the honest

Quaker, who proved a faithful, generous, and steady friend to us; and

we had very good success, for having a flourishing stock to begin with,

as I have said, and this being now increased by the addition of £150

sterling in money, we enlarged our number of servants, built us a very

good house, and cured every year a great deal of land. The second year

I wrote to my old governess, giving her part with us of the joy of our

success, and order her how to lay out the money I had left with her,

which was £250 as above, and to send it to us in goods, which she

performed with her usual kindness and fidelity, and this arrived safe

to us.

Here we had a supply of all sorts of clothes, as well for my husband as

for myself; and I took especial care to buy for him all those things

that I knew he delighted to have; as two good long wigs, two

silver-hilted swords, three or four fine fowling-pieces, a fine saddle

with holsters and pistols very handsome, with a scarlet cloak; and, in

a word, everything I could think of to oblige him, and to make him

appear, as he really was, a very fine gentleman. I ordered a good

quantity of such household stuff as we yet wanted, with linen of all

sorts for us both. As for myself, I wanted very little of clothes or

linen, being very well furnished before. The rest of my cargo consisted

in iron-work of all sorts, harness for horses, tools, clothes for

servants, and woollen cloth, stuffs, serges, stockings, shoes, hats,

and the like, such as servants wear; and whole pieces also to make up

for servants, all by direction of the Quaker; and all this cargo

arrived safe, and in good condition, with three woman-servants, lusty

wenches, which my old governess had picked for me, suitable enough to

the place, and to the work we had for them to do; one of which happened

to come double, having been got with child by one of the seamen in the

ship, as she owned afterwards, before the ship got so far as Gravesend;

so she brought us a stout boy, about seven months after her landing.

My husband, you may suppose, was a little surprised at the arriving of

all this cargo from England; and talking with me after he saw the

account of this particular, “My dear,” says he, “what is the meaning of

all this? I fear you will run us too deep in debt: when shall we be

able to make return for it all?” I smiled, and told him that it was all

paid for; and then I told him, that what our circumstances might expose

us to, I had not taken my whole stock with me, that I had reserved so

much in my friend’s hands, which now we were come over safe, and was

settled in a way to live, I had sent for, as he might see.

He was amazed, and stood a while telling upon his fingers, but said

nothing. At last he began thus: “Hold, let’s see,” says he, telling

upon his fingers still, and first on his thumb; “there’s £246 in money

at first, then two gold watches, diamond rings, and plate,” says he,

upon the forefinger. Then upon the next finger, “Here’s a plantation on

York River, £100 a year, then £150 in money, then a sloop load of

horses, cows, hogs, and stores”; and so on to the thumb again. “And

now,” says he, “a cargo cost £250 in England, and worth here twice the

money.” “Well,” says I, “what do you make of all that?” “Make of it?”

says he; “why, who says I was deceived when I married a wife in

Lancashire? I think I have married a fortune, and a very good fortune

too,” says he.

In a word, we were now in very considerable circumstances, and every

year increasing; for our new plantation grew upon our hands insensibly,

and in eight years which we lived upon it, we brought it to such pitch,

that the produce was at least £300 sterling a year; I mean, worth so

much in England.

After I had been a year at home again, I went over the bay to see my

son, and to receive another year’s income of my plantation; and I was

surprised to hear, just at my landing there, that my old husband was

dead, and had not been buried above a fortnight. This, I confess, was

not disagreeable news, because now I could appear as I was, in a

married condition; so I told my son before I came from him, that I

believed I should marry a gentleman who had a plantation near mine; and

though I was legally free to marry, as to any obligation that was on me

before, yet that I was shy of it, lest the blot should some time or

other be revived, and it might make a husband uneasy. My son, the same

kind, dutiful, and obliging creature as ever, treated me now at his own

house, paid me my hundred pounds, and sent me home again loaded with

presents.

Some time after this, I let my son know I was married, and invited him

over to see us, and my husband wrote a very obliging letter to him

also, inviting him to come and see him; and he came accordingly some

months after, and happened to be there just when my cargo from England

came in, which I let him believe belonged all to my husband’s estate,

not to me.

It must be observed that when the old wretch my brother (husband) was

dead, I then freely gave my husband an account of all that affair, and

of this cousin, as I had called him before, being my own son by that

mistaken unhappy match. He was perfectly easy in the account, and told

me he should have been as easy if the old man, as we called him, had

been alive. “For,” said he, “it was no fault of yours, nor of his; it

was a mistake impossible to be prevented.” He only reproached him with

desiring me to conceal it, and to live with him as a wife, after I knew

that he was my brother; that, he said, was a vile part. Thus all these

difficulties were made easy, and we lived together with the greatest

kindness and comfort imaginable.

We are grown old; I am come back to England, being almost seventy years

of age, husband sixty-eight, having performed much more than the

limited terms of my transportation; and now, notwithstanding all the

fatigues and all the miseries we have both gone through, we are both of

us in good heart and health. My husband remained there some time after

me to settle our affairs, and at first I had intended to go back to

him, but at his desire I altered that resolution, and he is come over

to England also, where we resolve to spend the remainder of our years

in sincere penitence for the wicked lives we have lived.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1683