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 MORE 
 
 SEVEN CLUB TALES 
 
 FOUND IN MR. JEFFERAY'S PAPERS MARKED: 
 " SOME STRANGE RELATINGS, SENT BY DIVERS 
 OF MINE ACQUAINTANCE, WITH A DESIRE THAT 
 THEY BE READ UNTO THE SEVEN CLUB. HERE 
 FOLLOWETH A NAMING OF WITHIN. W. J." 
 
 MR. RAY'S TALE. 
 AN INDIAN LEGEND OF BLOCK ISLAND. 
 
 MR. SMITH'S TALE. 
 A NAMELESS GUEST AT NARRAGANSETT. 
 
 MR. WILLETT'S TALE. 
 A STRANGE LADING AT THE KENNEBEC. 
 
 MR. BLACKSTONE'S TALE. 
 THREE GHOSTLY APPEARIXGS AT STUDY HALL. 
 
 DR. CRANSTON'S TALE. 
 A MARVELLOUS CURE AT NEWPORT. 
 
 MR. BAULSTONE'S TALE. 
 THE FIRST CALLER TO MINE INN AT PORTSMOUTH . 
 
 MISTRESS PORTER'S TALE. 
 MY HUSBANDS AND OTHER TRIALS. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 JOHN OSBORNE AUSTIN. 
 
 COMPILER OF 
 
 "THE JOURNAL OF WILLIAM JEFFERAY, GENTLEMAN." 
 1900. 
 
 LIMITED EDITION.
 
 COPYRIGHT 1900, 
 
 BY 
 JOHN OSBORNE AUSTIN, 
 
 PROVIDENCE, R. I. 
 
 PRESS OP 
 
 NEWPORT DAILY NEWS, 
 
 NEWPORT. R. I.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 It was doubtless Mr. Jefferay's intention 
 to have read these tales at the Seven Club, 
 though whether he ever did so is unknown. 
 Evidently those who sent them to him were 
 familiar with the tales already told at the 
 club, and were acquainted with the mem- 
 bers. The narrations heretofore published 
 (as a part of Mr. Jefferay's Journal) were so 
 favorably received, that it has been decided 
 to print these later found stories, as a proper 
 sequel. The reader will find familiar names 
 in the tellers Mr. Ray, a leading settler 
 at Block Island, two of whose granddaugh- 
 ters married distinguished Governors of 
 Rhode Island ; (he gives an Indian's ver- 
 sion of the " Palatine Light"); Mr. Smith, 
 of the old Narragansett trading house, 
 where the whole New England army was 
 subsisted in King Philip's war ; (he tells a 
 Regicide tale) ; Mr. Willett, the first Eng- 
 lish Mayor of New York ; Mr. Blackstone, 
 the always interesting recluse of Study 
 Hill ; Doctor Cranston, the early Colonial 
 
 Annex 
 6" 
 
 2072207
 
 Governor, and whose son Samuel was thirty 
 times elected to that office ; Mr. Baulstone, 
 mine host, whose claret has been extolled 
 by Mr. Jefferay, heretofore ; and Mistress 
 Porter, much married and much tried 
 therein (and otherwise) as naively related 
 by her. A goodly company, indeed, of 
 story tellers. Wherefore, gentle reader, 
 give unto them a fair hearing, and your 
 courtesy shall, perchance, be something 
 requited. 
 
 JOHN OSBORNE AUSTIN. 
 
 PROVIDENCE, R. I.
 
 MR. RAY'S XALE.. 
 
 AN INDIAN LEGEND OF BLOCK ISLAND. 
 
 Mr. Jefferay's valued visit hath minded 
 me to send this for his reading, (if worthy) 
 at the Seven Club, so called. I came, as 
 you know, among that band, (many of us 
 from Braintree,) who first settled Block 
 Island, near half a score years since. 
 
 It may be deemed in a degree presump- 
 tuous for one of my youth, (scarce turned 
 of thirty), to tell aught that might interest 
 mine elders; and tho' I have been honored 
 in counsel, and acted in the concerns of our 
 holy religion (for want of other minister), 
 yet I should be slow to give from mine own 
 experience any relatings whatsoever. I 
 shall rather tell what I heard from another, 
 upon first coming to the island, in the year 
 of our Lord 1661. At that time there was 
 a considerable number of Indians on Block 
 Island, with some grown ancient ; and what 
 I shall relate came from the oldest of these, 
 (near an hundred years by his reckoning), 
 one more than passing wise for any of that 
 race. 
 
 What he told me came from his grandsire's 
 grandsire, with origin still further off, per-
 
 6 
 
 chance, for these Indians, having naught in 
 writing, do carry forward their history by 
 one generation telling unto another. If this 
 maketh some incertitude of dates, yet 
 enough facts remain to hold by, for want of 
 better record. Such thoughts had lodgment 
 with me when I took down the best interpre- 
 tation possible of this ancient Indian's tale ; 
 and it ran nearly in this wise : 
 
 Many, many moons ago (about two hun- 
 dred years before our settling, as near as I 
 could get it) the Great Pond had so deep 
 and broad an entrance that any ship might 
 make safe haven there ; not as now a chan- 
 nel variable or none at all. The mightiest 
 storm that e'er raged, in their accountings, 
 had continued some days, when a vessel 
 was seen making as best she might for this 
 harbour, which happily she fetched into 
 with safety and anchored, with all her cable 
 out e'en there. Though she was called by 
 the Indian a great ship (and may have been 
 by compare with the shallop we arrived in) 
 yet I deem her, from his describing, such a 
 craft as then traded across channel from 
 England to other parts of Europe. But if 
 not large as reckoned today of ships, yet 
 she was staunch enough to weather this 
 mighty gale ; albeit, the poor people in her 
 had doubtless oft given themselves up for 
 lost, and all thankful enough now to be so
 
 snugly placed. Nor did the storm cease its 
 fury one whit for a long space yet, raging 
 indeed more fiercely than ever, till (in all) a 
 half moon had passed, or, as we should say, 
 a fortnight. 
 
 At the last of it a most strange thing be- 
 fell, which was nothing less than the closing 
 of all entrance to the pond or harbour in 
 such solid fashion that one might not be- 
 lieve it could e'er ope again ; a perfect land- 
 locking forever, as seemed, of that ship so 
 lately storm-tossed. When the gale had 
 well finished and the voyagers some rested, 
 they got off a boat from the deck, and 
 passing signals of friendship with the Indi- 
 ans (who had come to the shore) soon made 
 a landing. 
 
 The best account I could gather, made 
 these strangers of light complexion and 
 middle stature, and of English speech. 
 Nor could I shake the old Indian at all 
 about this last, tho' questioning closely. 
 One had direct command in ship and boat, 
 but another had the most respect paid him 
 on landing, and ever afterward. This last 
 was most richly dressed, with a sword at his 
 side, and though a young man, grave and 
 stately appearing. It would seem he was 
 not of the vessel's company, but a passen- 
 ger, who having been in some service 
 abroad had chanced upon this vessel for his
 
 8 
 
 return to England. It proved a sorry mis- 
 chancing for him however, as you have 
 seen; and losing. their near port by driving 
 to sea in this dire gale, they would have 
 long since starved but that the cargo was in 
 some part food. So close had one gale fol- 
 lowed upon another that they called it but 
 one storm since leaving their port till ar- 
 rival here. 
 
 The voyagers tho' so long tossed about t 
 and across so wide an ocean, would finally 
 have made trial to again pass over it, but 
 for their prisoning here in way related ; as 
 indeed they were fast enough held, having 
 no method to escape their vessel, nor proper 
 tools to break her up and rebuild on ocean 
 side. Now giving up all hope of e'er seeing 
 home again, they commenced to build and 
 plant, living on the ship till their houses 
 were ready, then removing thereto most of 
 their belongings from the ship. 
 
 When all was done, they settled down in 
 some content, and yet far from real happi- 
 ness, for thinking of their loved ones at 
 home, who might well suppose them lost. 
 After crops were gathered from their first 
 planting, some debate arose as to whether 
 wives might not be taken, and most of the 
 unmarried did soon join themselves to 
 Indian maidens ; as all the rest later, 
 (whether having wives at home or not) ex-
 
 9 
 
 cept their young ruler. He was careful 
 that all their marriages should be made 
 from a book, the Indian said, and with sign 
 of the cross. It would thus seem that the 
 one who had command since landing, tho' 
 not himself a priest, was determined to 
 make a ceremony as binding as he could, 
 which speaketh well for him, so far. A 
 calm and peaceful life followed this gather- 
 ing into families, with no trouble from their 
 Indian neighbors, for the young leader of 
 the English measured out justice to all, 
 brooking not any unfairness in dealing with 
 the natives. 
 
 One only trouble finally came to plague 
 them, but this strange enough ; the falling 
 into a decline of the head sachem's daugh- 
 ter by reason of her love for the young 
 Englishman. This was when some years 
 had passed, the maid near twenty and the 
 young man nearer to thirty years. 
 
 It was a cause for offense to the sachem 
 that his daughter's love was not returned 
 and might yet bring the whole settlement 
 into some danger, if the commander's cold- 
 ness continued towards the maiden. 
 
 But leaving this a moment, I must now 
 tell of another great gale, only second in 
 fury to the earlier one, with an ending which 
 had this unlikeness to the first in that it 
 opened what the other had shut ! In truth,
 
 10 
 
 the great pond had again become a good 
 harbour, with fair channel, both in depth 
 and width. 
 
 Joy and commotion followed upon this 
 wonder becoming known (as you may well 
 believe); of the English at least ; and most 
 were for braving the seas again, so strong 
 the hold of home and kindred. 
 
 No such joy showed in their Indian wives, 
 for many would for certain be left, and if a 
 few taken, yet to an unknown land over a 
 dangerous sea. 
 
 Listen, however, to what came next ; for 
 hardly had the boat made her first passage 
 to the ship, when lo ! the vessel brake forth 
 in flames, slowly moving the while towards 
 the harbour's mouth, with guiding hand at 
 the helm none other than that Indian maid, 
 of whose love I told ! 
 
 The boat was rowed closer still, but it 
 was, alas, too late to save the burning ship, 
 and the maid, well satisfied with her work, 
 now plunged headlong into the sea, where 
 she would have drowned had not he whom 
 she so loved rescued her, and drawn into 
 the boat. 
 
 Upon close questioning, she did confess 
 to firing the ship and loosing cable, that he 
 who was to embark might not go from her 
 forever. 
 
 Some in the boat were so. enraged at
 
 11 
 
 this as to sieze her, with a purpose of 
 throwing overboard to drown ; for their 
 spirits were sadly dashed at a time when 
 thoughts of home had been uppermost. 
 Their leader sternly forbade laying any 
 hand upon her, but though he rebuked the 
 girl only by a glance, doubtless she felt it 
 more than threat of all the rest. Heaven 
 only knows the deep distress he felt that 
 the cup of happiness should be thus dashed 
 from his lips, when he had so longed for 
 liberty and thought it attained. Yet sad- 
 dened as he was at his life's fate sealed (a 
 grief that would have maddened some in 
 thinking of the manner of missing this one 
 chance) he never chided the Indian maid, 
 but by that one look. This only rebuke of 
 his hath been told by Indian word for gener- 
 ations, the wonder more to them, as quick 
 death would have been her portion if she had 
 so worked upon any of her own blood ; scarce 
 would her father's station have saved her. 
 
 All that night the burning ship could be 
 seen, far off at last on horizon's edge ; and 
 still can it be seen at long intervals of time, 
 if the ancient Indian may be heeded in 
 what he stoutly declared the truth. 
 
 I know not how this may be, having of a 
 certainty never, myself, seen it ; nor do I 
 overmuch believe in the spirit return of 
 things that have in nature passed away.
 
 12 
 
 Whether partly come from this happen- 
 ing of the fire, as dispiriting many, a plague 
 now broke forth which spread so direfully 
 that many Indians, and ail that company 
 of English, save one, perished ere it was 
 spent. 
 
 The one who survived it was that young- 
 est, the ruler and commander of the rest, 
 nor would he have 'scaped but for the tend- 
 ance day and night of that Indian maid, 
 who never left his side from the time he 
 was stricken down until the plague abated 
 and the fever left his blood. 
 
 When the spark of life kindled a little 
 and he came out of his worst weakness, he 
 well knew to whom he owed this new life 
 (after God) ; and as a more steady flaming 
 came, in strength renewed, he may well 
 have been touched at the thought of her 
 devotion, twice shown, tho' in such different 
 manner. 
 
 Whatever had kept his love from her till 
 now, (whether real or fancied affection for 
 another, or some bitter experience of 
 woman's faithlessness), true it is that his 
 heart at last went out to this poor Indian 
 maid. 
 
 They were happily joined together on 
 his quick recovery (as ever love hastens 
 cure of the ailing) and lived in great con- 
 tent for many years.
 
 13 
 
 One child was born to them, but died ere 
 reaching womanhood, and a few years later 
 the wife died, leaving her much sorrowing 
 husband to linger many years more, though 
 wishing most to join her. Still, if it were 
 God's will he should remain, he resolved to 
 do some service for Him in ministering to 
 soul and body of the Indians ; and in this 
 good work he continued to his life's close, 
 near an hundred years old. The night he 
 died that ship of flame appeared, with his 
 wife at helm, and the spirit that left his 
 body joined hers. 
 
 Great lamentation and long grieving fol- 
 lowed his death, for dearly did these poor 
 natives love him on account of his watchful 
 care and good counsel ever bestowed on 
 them. 
 
 Scarce could they be comforted in their 
 loss, and so sure were they of his revisiting 
 them in spirit, that whenever the appearance 
 was reported of that ship of flame, they 
 would flock to the shore ready to welcome 
 his landing. 
 
 This custom continued for many years, 
 (e'en to the youth of the ancient man who 
 told me the tale), but fell into disuse with the 
 coming of other white men in later times, 
 and the dying of the older sort of Indians. 
 
 One thing more I must tell of him, which 
 happened just before he died ; when calling
 
 14 
 
 to him one of the younger but well betrusted 
 men, he gave him a ring from off his finger, 
 charging that it should be handed down 
 from father to son until, mayhap in some 
 distant age, an Englishman might come to 
 the Island. In this event (which he said 
 should some time surely be) the ring must 
 be handed over to such an one, if worthy of 
 trust ; as to which e'en a poor Indian hath 
 some judgment. 
 
 So this ring hath at last reached me, by 
 hand of the ancient man whose tale I have 
 told, and I would fain have all see it that 
 may, in good hope that a matching of the 
 arms upon it may be found with some still 
 borne in England. 
 
 Such likeness I have not yet come upon, 
 tho' diligent search hath been made, and it 
 something fears me that this line may have 
 run out its course, long since, as oft happen- 
 eth to some of our best old stocks. 
 
 I have many times pondered on the case 
 of that poor youth, so strangely cast upon 
 a speck of ground in the great ocean ; and 
 how his mind must have gone back, in old 
 age (the habit then), to his early days in 
 England. I have thought whether he might 
 not have left some writing to clear this 
 mystery, telling of his name and station, as 
 by his dress, and deference paid him, he 
 bore some title or rank, of certainty.
 
 15 
 
 The time of his landing was something 
 earlier, 'tis evident, than that Columbus 
 came (though called the first of all) and 
 this would make his writings, with dates 
 therein, so much the more of value. If he 
 left any such my searching hath not found 
 them, though 'twere possible yet to come 
 about; the more like near his grave, which 
 also hath 'scaped my inquiry thus far. Me- 
 thinks he would ne'er have given such writ- 
 ings to care of Indians, not for doubting 
 their honesty, but the lack of means to care 
 for them, and danger of wearing, wetting, 
 or fire. 
 
 Only this ring have I to show of his visit 
 here, and the ancient Indian who gave it to 
 me (close upon his death) charged me to 
 care for it my life through, passing to an- 
 other hand ere mine grew quite cold. So 
 will I try ; with strict heed (if sudden 
 death might be mine) that the ring go not 
 astray, but ever remain in safe holding. 
 
 'Twas a strange story this old man told, 
 and I rested not till he had given it many 
 times, to see if all held the same, or could 
 be shaken in any of its parts; but when 
 finally done it remained as at the first, save 
 in a few small faults of mine own interpret- 
 ing. This confusion (from difference in 
 language) hath all been cured, and you 
 have it cleared just as it came from his lips, 
 in all essential things.
 
 16 
 
 You must now be the judge of how much 
 there may have been to start upon, and to 
 what grown since by telling of one genera- 
 tion to another. I will vouch for the last 
 teller as a wise man (for his race), never hav- 
 ing met one more so, in some wide knowl- 
 edge of Indians. And there is the ring, 
 carrying its own evidence, so far. 
 
 I could wish, ere closing, that I might 
 better tell of the beauty and worth of the 
 Indian maid who so loved that stranger 
 cast upon her father's domain ; but herein 
 am I some barred by the special manner 
 (different from our English way of speech) 
 in which set forth to me by the ancient 
 man. Straight as an arrow, lissome as any 
 fawn, hair black as night, but lustrous, and 
 eyes like stars, yet melting (when turned 
 toward one), teeth of pearl and voice sweet 
 as wood thrush song, were only part that he 
 told of her. In our plainer way, she was 
 beautiful, tender and true; and those of us 
 who believe love best of all, (as nearest like 
 God who made us), will not pity too much 
 the one whose heart was hers, e'en tho' his 
 fate at first seemeth so hard to bear.
 
 MR. SMITH'S TALE. 
 
 A NAMELESS GUEST AT NARRAGANSETT. 
 
 It may be thought that dwelling so re- 
 mote from other English, on edge of the 
 wilderness (at Wickford), might give less 
 reason for any notable happenings in my 
 household, but as to that you shall pres- 
 ently see. 
 
 Tis true, that, till of late, we did live 
 much apart from other settlements, none 
 nearer, on the main, than Pawtuxet, a score 
 of miles away. All this is now "changed by 
 coming of many to settle near unto us. 
 
 My father came here as early as 1640, in 
 a desire for more freedom of conscience 
 than most would grant in Plymouth Col- 
 ony, and well opinioned that in the Massa- 
 chusetts he might fare still worse. Beyond 
 this was his desire to do the natives good 
 in propagating the gospel amongst them ; 
 with some use also for a good estate he 
 brought, to trade with these Indians. 
 
 So he built him a house, commodious 
 enough for family and servants, as well as 
 entertainment for chance travellers upon 
 that Pequot Path, leading close beside us 
 from the Massachusetts and Plymouth to 
 Connecticut bounds.
 
 18 
 
 Upon this matter of boundaries, however, 
 there hath been much dispute betwixt 
 Rhode Island and Connecticut, as to which 
 hath jurisdiction in Narragansett, with 
 some imprisonings of late, on both sides. 
 
 In our free entertainment of travellers, 
 if such came but on scant occasion, yet in 
 all these years some choice spirits have 
 tarried with us, and of strange histories oft, 
 if they might be willing to declare them. 
 
 My tale hath to do with one of these, 
 whose coming and going was in mystery. 
 It was, methinks, some two years or therea- 
 bouts before our Colony's charter was 
 granted by His Gracious Majesty, King 
 Charles, that I first saw him of whom I 
 relate, and upon the occasion that now 
 followeth. 
 
 I had been ordering some work upon our 
 shore, (the gathering and hauling of sea 
 weed to dress a field); this direction falling 
 of late to my lot, for my father had grown 
 something ancient and less able to oversee 
 than formerly. The last load had at length 
 started on its homeward way, and I about 
 to follow, when casting mine eyes seaward, 
 I saw a craft hauling in by Beaver Tail (as 
 called), and observing her now more closely, 
 could not make her rig to match with any 
 shallop or ketch belonging in our colony. 
 
 Marveling some at this, I sat me down to
 
 19 
 
 await her nearer approach, thinking, as she 
 had not stood in for Newport, it were like 
 that Providence might be her port; a course 
 that would make her to pass me in some 
 closeness. 
 
 By her fashioning I was at a loss to tell 
 whether she might be from the Dutch at 
 Manhattan, from Barbadoes, or Virginia; 
 yet in some belief 'twere one of these she 
 had voyaged from. 
 
 The wind making more from the south- 
 ward now, and tide serving fair, she soon 
 drew closer; but instead of passing up the 
 bay ( as I thought her sure to do ), she 
 brought up into the wind, and lowered a 
 boat, which was headed for the little cove 
 where I stood. 
 
 The one who sat in the stern I could soon 
 see, by his dress and bearing, was gently 
 born ; and, on soon landing, he bowed in 
 grave politeness and thus saluted me: "If 
 I mistake not, thou art Master Smith, who 
 liveth near, and I would fain have some 
 speech with thee, a little apart." This last 
 he spake lower and as regarding the men 
 who had rowed him from the vessel ; they 
 still waiting his command. 
 
 As we walked a little space back from 
 the shore, I assured him my name was 
 rightly guessed, but that perchance it was 
 my father he sought, in which case we
 
 20 
 
 would seek him at the house, his age keep- 
 ing him much there of late. 
 
 " No, 'tis thyself, the younger Richard, I 
 seek," said he, " though I hope soon to see 
 much of thy father also, if my business 
 prosper as I desire. I know you both, by 
 report, as men ever courteous to strangers, 
 entertaining all who may come to you in 
 their journeyings, with no thought of pay. 
 
 " For myself, however, I desire a different 
 sort of lodgment, inasmuch as my stay may 
 be longer than any yet hath made with you. 
 
 " I would make payment, therefore, in 
 gold (of which I have a small store in this 
 purse), or, if it please you, it liketh me still 
 better, to pay in any writings required from 
 your large tradings. My stay would be 
 three months to a day, but only on that 
 condition I spake of, wherein I pray that 
 thou wilt humour me; contenting my mind 
 so far, as Heaven knows my soul hath been 
 enough disquieted to need some repose. 
 
 "Should such long tarrying of a stranger 
 (whose manners and temper thou hast yet 
 to learn) be not to thy mind, that were of 
 itself a bar, tho' I hope there would be 
 nothing unseemly found in me upon trial. 
 Tis for thyself to say whether we part 
 now as friends, or a few months later. If 
 now, I will at once hie me back to Virginia, 
 whence I came ; a long voyage for disap-
 
 21 
 
 pointment at its close, but better that than 
 to be an unwelcome guest." 
 
 Now, although his request was in a man- 
 ner strange, yet I had grown into such a 
 liking for him ere he finished, by reason of 
 the honesty and courtesy he showed, that I 
 was well assured his stay would pleasure 
 us more than it could vex. 
 
 So I quickly made answer: " It shall be 
 e'en as thou dost desire, and tho' we shall 
 sure be advantaged by thy tarry, in our 
 something lonely life here, yet as to em- 
 ployment for spare hours, there are indeed 
 some arrears of writing that my father lately 
 made mention of; enough I think to satisfy 
 thy scruple of not being idle. And now 
 what may I call thy name ?" 
 
 He looked as if some troubled or sad- 
 dened at this query, and paused before his 
 answer came: "Once more must I crave a 
 boon, for the name I bear cannot be told at 
 the present, nor will I give a false one to 
 thee. Call me therefore (if thou wilt again 
 humour me) ' The Nameless Guest ' until in 
 some day of better fortune I may give an- 
 other which it vexeth me sore I may not 
 now." 
 
 To this I made answer that I was well con- 
 tent to let it rest as he desired, and bade him 
 not to be distressed on that account, nor on 
 any other that I might help him in.
 
 22 
 
 He seemed very grateful for these simple 
 words of mine, grasping my hand quickly, 
 but saying nothing, except as his eyes spake 
 his thanks. 
 
 We walked back to the boat now, and 
 after direction to the men to call for him 
 that day three months, he watched them as 
 they pulled back to the vessel; then, after 
 signal with his kerchief to those aboard, he 
 turned to me with a more cheerful look 
 than heretofore borne, and we walked on 
 together toward the house. 
 
 As my men had all gone before, I offered 
 to help him with his bag, which tho' not 
 large was heavy enough as I could well see. 
 He thanked me, but said he always kept it 
 close to himself, as used to the weight, tho' 
 it might burden others. I think that besides 
 his apparel, he may have had some books 
 and papers within it also ; which would 
 well account for heaviness; such matters in 
 mass, making hard carriage. I forbore to 
 talk with him o'ermuch, as doubtless wearied 
 with his voyage and many things upon his 
 mind, perchance ; but he seemed to have 
 cast much burden therefrom (on turning 
 his back to the sea), and now talked, as he 
 looked, more cheerfully. He inquired as to 
 my father's health, and said he had oft 
 heard of my wife's notable courtesy to 
 strangers, as also her some leaning towards
 
 23 
 
 the Quakers' belief, who were indeed a good 
 people in many ways. I told him that tho' 
 my wife still held to the English Church, 
 yet pitied much the heavy yokes put on 
 the Quakers in other colonies ; somewhat of 
 their sufferings having been related by 
 Mistress Gardiner, (now Mistress Porter,) 
 who had been to Narragansett on a religious 
 concern of late. He then inquired of Mr. 
 Winthrop's last visit, (esteeming him above 
 most of his neighbours, as fairer minded to 
 those differing), and of Captain Atherton, 
 Captain Hutchinson and others; but in par- 
 ticular of Mr. Blackstone and Mr. Williams, 
 whether so often here as in former times. 
 
 He seemed to know well the names also 
 of Indian sachems about us, inquiring of 
 several, if yet peaceably disposed to all, as 
 they ever were to Mr. Williams. 
 
 By this time we were come to the house, 
 where he received warm greeting from my 
 aged father, and was welcomed heartily by 
 my wife too, that he might feel himself no 
 stranger here. 
 
 Upon his going to his room, I told more 
 in particular of his strange coming and de- 
 sire of a long stay with us, unknown by 
 name, and that he would be made useful in 
 some writing for us, which we did agree 
 should be found, to ease his mind ; and 
 then, as he entered, sat us to supper.
 
 24 
 
 At this first meal, and afterward, I could 
 not but note what ready use he made of 
 napkin (as always familiar), howbeit, some 
 very worthy visitors were clumsy therein* 
 being unaccustomed. 
 
 His manner with servants, too, was of 
 one used to being served, and so in all 
 things he clearly showed a gentle birth and 
 breeding. His discourse was easy and of 
 much profit to us, from his wide experience 
 of men and affairs, as also much drawn from 
 books, showing a ready acquaintance in 
 languages. 
 
 As to this last, he said he would be glad 
 to school any youth in Hebrew, Greek or 
 Latin, if there were some of our household 
 or near unto us who desired such teaching. 
 We told him this might be in later years, 
 as good signs appeared of more settlement 
 than now in lands about us, which should 
 induce a more lasting stay of himself. 
 
 To this he answered that a settled abode 
 near us would much pleasure him, and might 
 yet be brought about, after a space, if only 
 some business in Virginia could happily 
 be concluded, tho' only time might unravel 
 that. As he courteously bade us good night, 
 he said he would attend my father and my- 
 self in the morning for the laying out of 
 such writings as we should engage him in. 
 
 After he had gone we fell into much de-
 
 25 
 
 bate over our guest ; what his history might 
 have been, his reasons for keeping his name 
 and particular affairs so close, etc., and 
 this not from any desire to pry upon him, 
 but from a hearty liking, and hope to be 
 of some service if he would but allow it. 
 
 We were well agreed that he had a most 
 pleasing address, the kind of manners that 
 could come only from a good heart ; not 
 such as some do carry on the outside alone. 
 
 On the morrow he appeared at the hour 
 set, and we made good study of papers 
 and accounts used in our barter trade, 
 which was then considerable, having an am- 
 ple store house to receive our goods. 
 
 As all our papers were kept in much 
 method, there was no great arrears to bring 
 forward, but it was rather a matter of copy- 
 ing more clearly things writ down in haste 
 upon some sudden call. 
 
 When all was laid out before him, (in the 
 little room set apart for such work), and a 
 new book opened, we were much amazed, 
 after he had neatly fashioned the quill's 
 point, to see what fine penmanship was his. 
 
 Better I had ne'er seen ; clear, regular, 
 yet flowing swiftly from his hand in easy 
 strokes, so that it was e'en a pleasure to 
 watch him at his work. 
 
 The morning was allotted for this writing, 
 as we would not suffer him to spend more
 
 26 
 
 time upon it ; and the rest of the day was 
 at his own disposing, with freedom for the 
 whole, at any time desired of him, for some 
 special undertaking. 
 
 A few such he used by going forth in 
 company with some Indians, to visit their 
 traps, wherein were caught the animals that 
 yielded us those skins we bartered for. 
 
 He was a good fowler, often supplying 
 our table from his hunting of birds, as well 
 as larger game ; but his great delight was 
 fishing, of which he never tired. He knew 
 the hiding place of all kinds well, and how 
 to cunningly lure them forth ; although not 
 venturing upon the sea overmuch, preferring 
 rather a pretty stream and fishing it up to 
 the source, through the woods. 
 
 So with writing, fowling, and fishing, and 
 his books of an evening (as often one in 
 pocket when he took his rod), the time 
 passed quietly to our guest, with more, I 
 think, of peace and content than his life 
 had known ere reaching us. 
 
 Our talk was mostly at meals, whence 
 arose a habit of lengthening them some, 
 and we were ever profiting, as I have said, 
 by things drawn from the rich store of his 
 learning or experience. 
 
 The days had passed swiftly by in this 
 pleasing fashion, until scarce a week re-
 
 27 
 
 mained, ere he should leave us; a matter 
 that it liked me not to think upon. 
 
 Still there was some such thought in my 
 mind, one morning, when he came in haste 
 to ask for a day's absenting of himself, if 
 no hindrance to any wish of mine. I an- 
 swered quickly that any day he might use 
 freely ; and seeing him someways disturbed 
 in manner, asked if I could not pleasure 
 him in something beside. He hesitated a 
 moment and then said: "If any land from 
 a King's ship, I pray thee keep secret my 
 stay here, tho' believe me no King's officer 
 hath rightful claim on my liberty." 
 
 I told him I readily believed it, and gave 
 assurance that none who might land should 
 hear mention of him. At this he pressed 
 my hand, as once before (on our first meet- 
 ing), and soon disappeared with fishing rod 
 and book, going by that path through the 
 wood that led to his favorite stream. 
 
 I had some wonder that he thus spake of 
 King's cruiser (few such coming our way); 
 but looking seaward, soon after, I did indeed 
 espy a ship, tho' too distant to determine 
 what manner of one she was. She was 
 nearing however, working slowly up against 
 a head wind, and at length 'twas evident 
 she was none other than a King's ship. 
 
 It then came to me that my nameless 
 guest had seen her with his glass, having a
 
 28 
 
 most excellent one, that he oft used from 
 his window, scanning the sea. 
 
 The vessel showed no sign of coming to 
 anchor near us, nor did she lay off and on 
 in any waiting ; but gaining now a better 
 slant to the wind, shaped her course straight- 
 way to double the north end of Conanicut, 
 with a purpose to make Newport, as seemed. 
 
 Our guest returned towards eve, and at 
 the first chance I could get, my assurance 
 was given that the ship had passed unnotic- 
 ing, e'en by a gun; which seemed some re- 
 lief for him to hear. 
 
 He thanked me for my care, and then 
 fell into a closer talk than e'er before, as 
 touching England in particular. First ques- 
 tioning me as to report of my service, in 
 years past, on the Protector's side; he said 
 many saw their duty thus; and most of his 
 own family had believed the right lay with 
 that side, himself agreeing to most of it, 
 but never to that death put upon King 
 Charles the First so cruelly. 
 
 True, that ill fated monarch did stand too 
 much for the right of Kings (even to the 
 wronging of some other men), yet was he 
 honest in it, if too opinioned, and (as might 
 now be seen) no good could come finally from 
 such harsh dealings on him. Nor would he 
 countenance that other harshness now be- 
 ing worked upon those who, tho' favoring
 
 29 
 
 Cromwell, yet were guiltless of the King's 
 blood; and he deemed great injustice done 
 to those in particular whose worst offense 
 was some kinship to those stern judges 
 called Regicides. 
 
 At that last word his voice fell lower, and 
 he stopped sharply, as if he might have said 
 too much. Then passed through my mind 
 the thought of whether 'twere possible the 
 man before me might be some way related 
 to one of those very judges ! 
 
 For the rest of the week life went on 
 much as before, and the ship's recent near- 
 ness had quite gone from my thoughts, 
 however it might be with our guest. 
 
 On the evening before he should leave 
 us, we were gathered, after supper, at first 
 talking in some cheerfulness of the many 
 pleasant days together, and how quickly 
 passed. 
 
 I remember that he spoke of one particu- 
 lar enjoyment I had given him, in conduct- 
 ing a few days before to that rock where 
 the Indians do crown their kings or sachems. 
 
 Some silence following this, there came a 
 feeling of sadness over us now at our soon 
 parting with one who had much endeared 
 himself to all. 
 
 His gentle ways, his honour in smallest 
 things, the kindly services he was ever ren- 
 dering; these were the things I was musing
 
 30 
 
 upon, and how they would be missed on his 
 departure, when I was startled by the sud- 
 den moving of his chair to a new place, 
 close beside the window and facing the door. 
 
 He must have heard what reached not 
 my ear, for he had but settled on this other 
 side, when the door was rudely thrown 
 back, without warning, and two ship's offi- 
 cers entered, leaving two of their men to 
 bar any escape through doorway. 
 
 "In the King's name I arrest thee !" said 
 the taller one, advancing on my guest, and 
 was for naming whom, when our visitor, 
 having arisen in much dignity, sternly said, 
 "Forbear more speech. I am unknown 
 by name here, advance to your duty upon 
 me." They coming now nearer toward 
 him, one upon each side, it had been well 
 they had made quick work, for there was a 
 look in my guest's eye (albeit calm other- 
 wise) which should have warned them. 
 
 I had always seen him so gentle, that I 
 marveled at the dangerous look his eyes 
 gave forth, which I can only liken to flash 
 of sword : nor had I time to dwell on this, 
 for greater amazement came, as, quicker 
 than thought, he threw both of them back 
 into the doorway to fall upon the other two, 
 then leaped out the open window! 
 
 Nor did he leave till he had called back 
 " I go by the Pequot Path to New London,
 
 31 
 
 where you may greet me if your ship be 
 speedy enough to catch the little bark that 
 awaits me there !" 
 
 There was a dash made by them all (when 
 unwedged from the narrow doorway), and I 
 heard a quick firing into the forest, but to 
 none effect, for they returned to the house, 
 with threats of future vengeance upon me 
 for harbouring the one who had 'scaped 
 them ; and then hastened to their ship and 
 sailed for New London. 
 
 Now I could better understand why our 
 guest had made himself so well acquaint with 
 the forest paths, and if he borrowed one of 
 our horses for part of the passage, sure I am 
 that he found a way to return him ere long. 
 
 It was the next day (the very one his 
 vessel should have arrived to bring him 
 away) and close upon the hour, being nearly 
 dusk, when I walked slowly and sadly 
 toward the spot where first I saw him; and 
 lo ! as I live, that same little bark was 
 standing in ! I rubbed mine eyes to make 
 sure I saw aright, and now the same boat 
 was rowing from her directly toward me. 
 
 A few minutes more and I clasped the 
 hand of my late visitor, he whom I ne'er 
 had thought to see again, unless in chains. 
 
 "What madness is this," quoth I, "for 
 glad as my very heart is to greet thee, yet 
 think of thy danger." "Think not at all
 
 32 
 
 of that, " answered he, " but only let me 
 thank thee for kindnesses that I ne'er shall 
 forget so long as my troubled life doth last. 
 If it be God's will, we shall meet again, but 
 I could never have rested more had not my 
 poor thanks now been given thee. Fare 
 thee well, good friend, may blessings follow 
 thy pathway ever ; again, farewell." 
 
 Here he turned quickly, to hide, I think, 
 some tears, (for tho' as brave as a lion, his was 
 a gentle spirit) ; and hurried to the boat 
 awaiting him, with no further adieu save a 
 waving of his kerchief as the ship sailed 
 away. 
 
 Oft at dusk (the time of both his comings) 
 have I walked upon the shore where he 
 landed, hoping to sight his bark approaching. 
 This may yet be, if he is still alive, for 
 (tho' never promising) he did much hope 
 for future abode near us. 
 
 I would fain trust that this may come 
 about, for never have I been so saddened at 
 parting with visitor, before or since. 
 
 Where'er he goeth some good shall ever 
 follow his steps, and in the content he 
 bringeth others, it must be that some shall 
 rest with him, to lessen that sorrow which 
 hath laid hold upon his life. Godspeed my 
 Nameless Guest in all his ways ! 
 
 I pray you of the Seven Club, keep this 
 writing to yourselves (all known to me as
 
 33 
 
 men both discreet and honourable) ; for 
 tho' I have ne'er suffered the promised ven- 
 geance for my harbouring, yet it were not 
 wise at present to give forth to the world. 
 
 NOTE. In 1680 there arrived in Na'rragansett one Theophilus 
 Whaley, from Virginia, where he had lived many years. He lead 
 a life of some mystery in his new abode. He was acquainted 
 with the dead languages, a fine penman, etc., and gained his 
 living by fishing, teaching, weaving and writing deeds for his 
 neighbors. He is said to have received occasional visits from 
 distinguished people outside the colony, and to have preserved 
 an unbroken silence as to his early history. He was long and 
 persistently believed by some to have been one of the Regicide 
 Judges who condemned to death King Charles I. This was 
 later disproved, but that he was in some way related to one of 
 them, and that he had seen service in the Parliamentary army 
 is still believed by many. 
 
 Was this : the " Nameless Guest" of Mr. Smith, finally come 
 to dwell here as he had fondly hoped ?
 
 MR. WILLE.TT-S TALE. 
 
 A STRANGE LADING AT THE KENNEBEC. 
 
 A visit from Mr. Jefferay to my home at 
 Swanzey, whereby I much profited in his 
 converse, occasions this relation of a befall- 
 ing in my earlier years. 
 
 If the Seven Club care for its reading, 
 perchance there may be enough therein to 
 interest them for a brief space. My life 
 hath been so oft beset with strange happen- 
 ings, from wide travel, both of sea and 
 land, that I am at a loss of which to relate. 
 
 But I can promise you it shall not be of 
 phantom ship, fountain of youth, nor phil- 
 osopher's stone ; having ne'er come upon 
 the two first, nor found any method by 
 which stones might yield gold, other than 
 the removal of them that a good harvest 
 might take their place, with help of honest 
 toil. (Perchance 'twas this golden grain the 
 philosopher had in mind). 
 
 I did think to have told you something, 
 (not too well known) about the rock a few 
 miles eastward of my dwelling, whereon 
 are inscribed dive'rs messages from early 
 dwellers in these parts (many years before 
 our English came), but this would make too 
 long a tale for now.
 
 35 
 
 A little of my earlier history, (ere I come 
 fair upon the story I am to tell you) may 
 here be not amiss. 
 
 My father and grandfather were minis- 
 ters, the last being Prebend of Ely Cathe- 
 dral ; near that Cambridge in whose univer- 
 sity were schooled Mr. Jefferay, Mr. Wil- 
 liams and Mr. Blackstone, so well esteemed 
 throughout your colony. But although my 
 first youth was passed in England, I was 
 still young while I tarried in Leyden ; gain- 
 ing there a knowledge of the Dutch tongue, 
 that hath since advantaged me in my trad- 
 ing, and in some service at Manhattan. I 
 came to New England by the ship Lion in 
 1632, and the next year was made a freeman 
 of Plymouth Colony. Some years later I 
 was upon trading at the Kennebec, of which 
 more anon and still later was appointed 
 Mayor of New York, being the first English 
 one. 
 
 So much for the general course of my 
 life, to show something of its travel, (and 
 travail too shall appear) bringing me now 
 to the time you know of, when I built at 
 Swanzey, upon your borders ; a happy haven 
 which shall be my last. Not to tax your 
 patience farther, I will enter now upon the 
 particular relation that you have awaited 
 my telling. 
 
 It is of what befell me in a voyage to the
 
 36 
 
 Kennebec, one of many, but this not so 
 well known about in general, there being 
 some folly in it that I have covered hitherto. 
 
 My estate had already so grown, by good 
 fortune (with some skill mayhap in trading 
 voyages), that I needed no addition to my 
 store, yet thought to venture once again. 
 
 There was indeed much of chancing in 
 this business, at best, for what with the 
 treachery of Indians (tho' not all so), dan- 
 gers of sea, and furs not always plentiful 
 (besides uncertainty as to good market for 
 them), 'twere not sure what the final 
 accounting might be. 
 
 Nevertheless being determined on one 
 more trial, I made all ready and started 
 forth on my last voyage to the Kennebec, 
 in my own ketch, well found and manned. 
 The wind favoring, we fetched into the 
 mouth of that great river in less time than 
 I had e'er before made. 
 
 Beaver was what we chiefly sought, but 
 these skins we found scarce, and what we 
 came upon not so good as desired ; for it 
 hath ever been my rule to get the best pos- 
 sible, believing well in that old saying 
 "good choosing saveth losing." 
 
 After much time spent in visiting all the 
 places I could bethink me of where skins 
 might be had (either by barter with 
 Indians or our own hunting), I had nigh de- 
 spaired of finding any worth the taking.
 
 37 
 
 One evening, as we lay at anchor in a 
 bend of the river, I had come upon the 
 deck for a last look that all were well, be- 
 fore going to my bunk ; then, pausing a 
 moment, thought how these same stars shone 
 upon my loved ones at home, and hoped I 
 might not return so empty-handed to them 
 as it feared me I should. 
 
 I was now turning to go below, when I 
 heard the noise of paddle approaching, and 
 soon was hailed by an old Indian well known 
 to me in former barterings. He had no 
 beaver with him, and said he would try for 
 none, because the Great Spirit was angry at 
 such slaughter as had been made in seasons 
 gone. A year must pass before any hunted. 
 
 When I pressed him for a method by 
 which I might load my vessel, he would not 
 allow he knew of any, until finally (finding 
 me determined to stay the season out) he 
 did admit there was one speedy and sure 
 way. This could only be, however, by 
 selling my soul to the Spirit of Evil ; at 
 which word he fell into such a trembling 
 that I thought he might lose what few teeth 
 were left him. 
 
 Now as I believed not over much in our 
 English spirits (as having any power to 
 work evil) there seemed little to fear from 
 this Indian one ; so I quickly asked where 
 these skins might be found.
 
 38 
 
 The old Indian (on much persuading) at 
 last gave me a course to steer for them, but 
 prayed that I should not follow it, as leading 
 but to destruction. 
 
 I marked carefully down his ranges (so 
 not to miss my way upon the morrow) and 
 heard what else he had to tell ; something 
 as to a pile of beaver skins ready every 
 morning, thus my vessel quickly filled, where- 
 upon she should be caught in a great whirl- 
 pool and carried down to home of Evil Spirit. 
 
 Being sleepy by this time I paid not much 
 heed to the last of it, but before parting 
 with the old Indian, told him to pick out 
 anything from my store of goods that might 
 suit his fancy ; thinking to pleasure him 
 the most by that way of thanks. To my 
 amazement he refused (tho* I ne'er knew 
 Indian before lose so good a chance) and 
 left in much sadness that he could not pre- 
 vail on me to sail homewards without the 
 beaver. 
 
 On the morrow we made sail right early, 
 and by noon were well abreast of that place 
 the Indian had given such clear guidance to; 
 having carried a good wind all the way. 
 Here we anchored, and then started at once 
 in our boat, for the shore. I steered her as 
 directed, in a narrow channel between some 
 high growing reeds and rushes, leaving the 
 main river soon; and when we had passed
 
 39 
 
 betwixt two great hemlocks on banks of 
 this smaller stream, stopped short just be- 
 yond them to make landing for further 
 search. 
 
 A narrow path led through a tangle of 
 brambles, and arrived to a little square 
 within, we found in truth a pile of beaver 
 skins that might not have their match for 
 beauty anywhere ! 
 
 When some recovered from our marvel- 
 ing we hastened to fill the boat, and made 
 enough trips ere nightfall to finish the 
 whole pile ; all safely within my vessel. 
 
 The next morning my crew were some 
 puzzled that I should start them forth again, 
 but on arriving within the thicket (tho' I, 
 too, doubted some) verily a pile was there, 
 much as before. 
 
 Seeing much wonderment in the faces of 
 my men, I told them it mattered naught to 
 us if some would work at night, for we did 
 profit by it in finding all ready in the 
 morning. 
 
 And here I found myself beginning to 
 use some quibbles of deceit upon my crew 
 in explaining, or seeming to, of the matter; 
 with worse following, as to payment, which 
 I said should be at Plymouth as far from 
 the truth as we from that place. 
 
 I had been esteemed always as more than 
 passing honest, with a hope that I deserved
 
 40 
 
 it, for I did take special pride in ever keep- 
 ing true my word. There was like now to 
 be a humbling of this pride (which hath 
 been so well said to go before a fall) ; for 
 from the time I first came upon that ac- 
 cursed store of beaver, an evil spirit indeed 
 seemed to possess me whether the Indian's 
 or some other, I know not. 
 
 Tho' still marveling, my men toiled on 
 through the days (seven in all) needful to 
 finish our lading; yet it made much dis- 
 content, when I forced them to work upon 
 the Sabbath, and was only accomplished by 
 threats and promises of share in gains. 
 This again shows the spirit that had pos- 
 session of me, to so change my nature and 
 custom as to urge Sabbath breaking. 
 
 At length all was finished, the last skin 
 aboard, hatches secured, and vessel ready 
 for homeward voyage ; with such a cargo 
 of beaver as Plymouth had never seen. 
 
 I was upon ordering sail made and anchor 
 up, when espying a black cloud coming 
 quickly toward us, with a freshening of 
 wind, I awaited the issue. 
 
 Nor was it for long, as indeed I ne'er saw 
 heavens so soon o'ercast, nor ever of such 
 inky blackness; but before I had fairly 
 noted this there came a sheet of flame with 
 so loud a crash that it might well be 
 thought the last day had come and wrath
 
 41 
 
 with it. I do believe the ketch was fairly 
 rent in twain, for tho' partly stunned, I 
 knew that I was going down into the sea 
 between the two sides of her. 
 
 There was little hope I should come to 
 the top again, for though a strong swimmer, 
 I was held down by such swirling and eddy- 
 ing that my struggle availed not at first. 
 When finally freed from that which held me 
 (I know not whether spirit of evil or other 
 sprite), I came to the air and light near 
 choking ; so that no power was in me at 
 first to look around for men or vessel. 
 
 When recovered enough to gaze about 
 me I found ketch, cargo, and worst of all, 
 my poor crew, disappeared forever; only the 
 boat remaining; wherein I soon clambered, 
 thanking God for such help left from the 
 wreck as might yet save me. 
 
 The boat had been fastened to us by a 
 rope (which flash of lightning must have 
 severed), and was well found in sails and 
 oars, with store of food also ; having an in- 
 tention to do some hunting (ere we left the 
 river's mouth) to gain a supply of fresh 
 meat for our voyage homeward. 
 
 Stepping now the mast, I made sail on 
 her and ran off before a good fair wind ; 
 not turning my face once toward the horrid 
 spot which had so near proved my ruin. 
 No thought did I give to loss of vessel and
 
 42 
 
 freight, but for the fate of men I blamed 
 myself much, and grieved most sorely. 
 
 Should I by God's help 'scape new perils 
 and arrive safe home, there was a resolve 
 within me never to return eastward again, 
 as indeed I never did. 
 
 My spirits rose somewhat with the lively 
 movement of the boat, and a thought which 
 now came to me that as I was well pro- 
 visioned it might happen I should arrive 
 finally to some settlement adown the coast. 
 
 I should have reached even to some 
 measure of happiness, in escape from that 
 evil spirit's thrall, but for thinking of my 
 crew. 
 
 Here I took a little comfort, however, 
 when I bethought me that they were men 
 chanced upon, just before sailing, having 
 come from off a wrecked ship ; and so not 
 Plymouth men with families (as indeed 
 they had none they could call such). 
 
 By this time I was come into a better 
 heart (as you have seen) than when my 
 lading was adoing ; and surely I must have 
 been beside myself then to have so changed 
 my nature in all things. 
 
 My right course was now plain, to leave 
 all this evil behind, and manfully fight 
 through the perils to come ; which tho' dire 
 ones enough perchance, yet might be en- 
 countered by natural means.
 
 43 
 
 I sailed late into the night, not wishing 
 to lose aught of the favoring breeze ; and 
 brought up at last in a little cove, where 
 was good shelter, anchoring a cable length 
 from shore. 
 
 The second day the wind still held to 
 favor me, and tho' I had given up hope of 
 meeting other traders (all now gone, as use- 
 less to linger in barren hope), yet it might 
 chance a fisherman would be sighted. 
 
 No such vessel was seen, and the second 
 night found me snug behind a little island, 
 but none too soon, as it came on to blow 
 just after, holding for near a week. 
 
 After I had moored my boat, it seemed 
 wise to rig some shelter ashore ; so carrying 
 my sail and part of the food, a little back 
 from the landing place, I gained good cover 
 under some sheltering of a rock. 
 
 Here, with aid of sail, I kept out of the 
 fury and drive of the gale, until it brake ; 
 both dry and warm, with help of fire. 
 
 As my store of food was now nigh ex- 
 hausted, I decided on making a run of it for 
 Casco Bay, where was some housing at least, 
 with a chance of a vessel bound for Boston 
 or Plymouth. 
 
 So filling my water cask, I sailed fairly 
 out upon the ocean, not deeming likely an- 
 other storm might so soon arise as to o'er- 
 take me.
 
 44 
 
 By the help of God I reached Casco 
 safely, and in such good fortune as to find 
 a vessel just upon sailing for Plymouth, 
 whose master readily gave me passage 
 thence. 
 
 Upon arrival at my home there was some 
 inquiry for vessel, cargo and crew, tho' as 
 the venture had been mine alone, there was 
 not so close questioning as partners would 
 surely make. 
 
 Another matter that barred queries for 
 the present, was arrival of a ship from Eng- 
 land ; making great bustle in passing of 
 news and unlading cargo ; with some meet- 
 ing of old friends, too. 
 
 It thus happened that I escaped better 
 than I could have hoped from telling of 
 what befell ; and going soon on some busi- 
 ness to Manhattan, ere I returned my mis- 
 hap was crowded from the minds of most 
 (being indeed known in a general manner 
 only). 
 
 This is the first clear relation I have e'er 
 made of it; never before having given this 
 inner history of my lading. 
 
 One thing I learned from this bitter ex- 
 perience; to be ever careful of taking 
 something and giving nothing in exchange. 
 Such may well prove the costliest kind of 
 gift, as you have seen in my own case. 
 
 The old Indian's advice, if taken, would
 
 45 
 
 have saved some lives and my own peace 
 of mind, to say naught of a fine vessel's 
 loss. 
 
 Should you inquire whether it might 
 truly have been a Spirit of Evil who nightly 
 brought the beaver, and finally wrecked me 
 in such awful manner ; I can only reply that 
 within man much evil is engendered when 
 once he setteth his mind upon following a 
 short path to wealth. It were much wiser 
 to keep in the old ways (well proved as 
 good) even when toilsome and slow of 
 travel. 
 
 I know not if other evil spirit than this 
 possessed me ; but whether come by natu- 
 rally or in a spirit way, never before had I 
 such wicked inclinings. 
 
 As to the skins, ever ready for lading, I 
 have not yet hit upon a way in nature to 
 explain it. Their quantity and fineness was 
 such that I know not where man could ever 
 find the like ; and I have long desired to 
 bring this matter before those with more 
 wisdom to unravel than I find within my- 
 self. Should this never happen then it still 
 remaineth, a strange lading at the Kenne- 
 bec.
 
 MR. BLACKSTONE-S XALE.. 
 
 THREE GHOSTLY APPEARINGS AT STUDY 
 
 HILL. 
 
 Let none think because I shall tell of 
 ghostly appearings, that I would declare 
 them ghosts in verity ; for I count myself 
 less credulous than most. I would find 
 sound and weighty reasons for all unusual 
 happenings, believing most may be finally 
 come at. So you shall see that some of the 
 appearings which seemed only spirit, proved 
 on close study to be earthly, and what still 
 remain without reason your greater wisdom 
 may unravel ; thus giving great content to 
 me, as something confounded and perturbed 
 therein. 
 
 My placing at Study Hill is so remote 
 from neighbors, that many esteem it lonely ; 
 but I deem it not so, tho' having 'tis true 
 much quiet for nice observance, which per- 
 chance hath sharpened my looking into lit- 
 tle things, or those in general called small. 
 
 I have studied upon these spirit matters 
 too, in my store of books (than which none 
 better hereabout) and while I tend my gar- 
 den and orchard I ponder on what I have 
 seen and read. 
 
 Although my dwelling is in Plymouth
 
 47 
 
 bounds, yet so upon the edge of it that my 
 friends from the plantation at Providence 
 may reach me with as much ease as those 
 of Rehoboth ; and some of the Bay (who 
 still are my friends) do call, upon occasion, 
 tho' not so easy come by. 
 
 I have Indian callers oft-time (and good 
 friends among these) wherefrom I learn 
 much that their special training makes them 
 wiser in than our English. If I go not forth 
 much from home (except to Narragansett, 
 upon Mr. Smith's desire that I should preach 
 the word there) yet I lack not visitors as 
 I have shown you, and these bring the 
 world's news to my smaller world. So much 
 in general, but in particular I would name 
 Mr. Newman, minister at Rehoboth, and Mr. 
 Williams of Providence, with both of whom 
 I have had rare good converse. Mr. New- 
 man hath died since the time I specially 
 write of, but Mr. Williams still comes to me, 
 and of late I had a much valued visit from 
 Mr. Jefferay (who may read this to you of 
 the Seven Club). 
 
 So, though retired, you may not hereafter 
 think of me as lonely, nor without some 
 company at seasons, which is sufficient an- 
 swer to those who have said that my lonely 
 state had oped my mind the more to ghostly 
 imaginings. 
 
 My chief delight is in my books and
 
 48 
 
 trees ; and regarding these last how to get 
 the choicest fruit therefrom. When I come 
 upon a new and better kind I am ever 
 giving out slips to those desiring such cut- 
 tings to graft upon their sourer stock. 
 
 I have some reputation in my fruit and 
 a pride that I hoped to be pardoned in, if 
 I continue to give freely of these grafts. 
 But much as I would like to dwell on this, 
 I must leave it for my ghosts. 
 
 I believe it is at about dusk that I have 
 most thought of spirit comings, as whether 
 any spark of truth might lie in the flares so 
 many have lighted on this matter. It hap- 
 peneth that two of my appearings have to 
 do with fire, which shall soon be seen, as I 
 close upon the tale. 
 
 But first as to the leading up to it, with 
 fair foundation, ere I build my story. You 
 must know, at the commencement, that my 
 house standeth on a little hill, or mound, 
 rising from the banks of that river which 
 some do call by my name. 
 
 Now in front of this house I was standing 
 just at that time of dusk I spake of, with 
 my eyes resting on a fair prospect, but my 
 mind away from it, though not upon spirits 
 then. 
 
 I was trying to rid myself of some bitter- 
 ness in the remembrance of censures and 
 hardnesses put upon me by the bishops, ere
 
 49 
 
 I left England, because their ways had 
 seemed too narrow and strait for me to 
 walk in (tho" not narrow in that best scrip- 
 ture way). Nor did I like much better the 
 way that some would have us walk at the 
 Bay ; so I bethought me that as I left there 
 also for more liberty, and found it with 
 peace, here, 'twere well that now all bitter- 
 ness of spirit should be forgot. Whereupon 
 this feeling of peace at home set me to 
 looking about more ere I went in, which I 
 must soon do as something weary, at the 
 end of a long June day. 
 
 In this last observing before I turned to 
 my door, I was some startled by a sudden 
 flaming up of fire, yet not like burning 
 brush ; spreading and playing differently 
 and climbing not so high as that. 
 
 I was soon on deciding to know more of 
 such a strange light, so acquainting my wife 
 (who would have stayed me, but I assured 
 her of care to my steps) I quickly set forth, 
 making a course into that part of the woods 
 which appeared nearest the flame. 
 
 Being fairly dusk in the open space about 
 my house, I found it blacker yet in the 
 woods, the path soon leading me into some 
 depression where I could not see the fire at 
 all. When, on rising again, I had it once 
 more in view, I could not perceive that I was 
 any nearer, and after many windings forth
 
 50 
 
 through stony ways (where I near tumbled 
 my length at times) yet there was no visible 
 gain made toward the light. 
 
 Arrived now upon some soft mire, I 
 would fain have been glad for those stones 
 to step on, for I stuck so fast at times that 
 I feared my prisoning might last the night. 
 But the light now brightening again, as 
 nearer at last, showed me a better way 
 through ; and ere long I reached the banks 
 of a little pond that was all aflame, though 
 water hath no quality to burn as I had ever 
 been taught. 
 
 To see such burning did indeed much 
 amaze me, and if some beauty in it, yet so 
 unearthly, and the air so dank and chill that 
 I was more dispirited than pleasured. Still 
 I marked well what I did see and had waited 
 longer, only that a most doleful cry close at 
 my back caused me to turn (in some shak- 
 ing at that or the cold I was in) to find 
 cause for such wail ; when on a sudden the 
 fire went out and I was left to get myself 
 out, too, if possible in that darkness, still 
 blacker now from the late flaming. 
 
 How I ever got me through that mire 
 I know not, for when viewed by daylight it 
 seemed no less than a miracle that I had 
 'scaped all those holes, or quagmires as called, 
 wherein to fall would have been sure death. 
 
 Thankful indeed was I at safe coming
 
 51 
 
 from such dire peril, wherein it seemed I had 
 been lead by false lights, with that cry of Evil 
 Spirit at last to confound my understanding. 
 
 After I had got me home and something 
 cleaned, I would not rest till I had searched 
 my books for some matching of circumstance 
 in water's burning. At last I found a kind 
 of reason for such appearing, which the old 
 writer said might be from a bubbling up. 
 ward of gas, so called, that hath a burning 
 quality if a spark be rightly struck upon it. 
 But I have queried much who struck the 
 spark, and whence that doleful cry, and why 
 all so nicely circumstanced for my destruc- 
 tion? Some say the cry was from a loon, 
 but I thought it not his note, nor any other 
 that e'er I heard before. However these 
 things may be, I will rest someways content 
 (tho 1 not so cleared as likes me best) that all 
 were due to causes natural, and nothing of 
 spirit in them. 
 
 Now am I come to the second appearing, 
 which as you shall see will have fire in it 
 also, and did happen in this wise. 
 
 I had been a toilsome day's journey to 
 visit a wonder (as generally esteemed by the 
 few who e'er saw it) called Cobbling Rock, 
 some half score of miles northerly from my 
 home. And here I would pray your pa- 
 tience while I give some description of that 
 which so few have seen.
 
 52 
 
 I know not whether I could have come 
 upon it but for an Indian lad in part guiding 
 me there, through a devious path, now in 
 the woods, and anon by river's bank. 
 When suddenly seen before me, as hardly 
 expecting, I found indeed much to marvel 
 at, in the rock itself and its placing. 
 
 It is upon a rising ground (thick wooded 
 all about) whereon is found a sort of tabled 
 rock, low lying; with balanced upon it a 
 great bowlder, as if rolled there in giant's 
 play, and by some chance stopped from 
 further moving. A gentle push might start 
 it afresh, as seemed, but a hard one of us 
 both started it not, tho' the lad thought it 
 did move a little, which I deem, however, 
 but his fancy. He told me that the ancient 
 men of his tribe say that in distant ages, 
 two great chieftains of the spirit world, 
 warring with each other, one threw this 
 great rock along the ground (as we do bowls) 
 and after crashing through miles of forest, 
 here it balanced so strangely at last. 
 
 Whether there be aught of truth in such 
 spirit work or not, it remains a wonder 
 worth the seeing, that a rock the bigness of 
 some houses, should poise upon its end so 
 nicely that one might deem a wind would 
 topple it over. 
 
 When my amazement was satisfied at 
 this, we sat us down (but not too near the
 
 53 
 
 path it might roll) and rested a space, with 
 some refreshment, and then started on our 
 return. 
 
 It was dark and growing darker ere we 
 neared Scott's pond (as since called by some) 
 where now our paths divided. Here I was 
 upon bidding the Indian lad good night, 
 when he fell into a trembling and pointed 
 out to me a dancing light near the ground 
 and toward that pond I spake of. On my 
 starting forward that way, to know it bet- 
 ter, he begged me to turn my steps from it, 
 else might I be lured to my death as others 
 hap had been. 
 
 When he found I would not be prevented, 
 he sadly left me, speeding another way, 
 and I followed slowly the false light, as 
 deemed by him. Yet it seemed a prankish, 
 sportive light, sometimes upon the ground, 
 then climbing a little, hiding at times, and 
 anon dancing forth again, as making merry 
 at my chase. 
 
 I gained not much upon it at the first, as 
 it gambolled about, leading in a crooked 
 course, but at last it perched upon a little 
 tree just out of reach above me, and then I 
 sat awhile for rest, and to examine so well 
 as I could into its substance, whether really 
 of fire or not. 
 
 I was beginning to have an idea of its size, 
 and admiring the brightness of it, when all
 
 54 
 
 became black about me ; my beacon had 
 disappeared ! 
 
 New amazement was mine, when turning, 
 at sound of a lapping near me, I found all 
 around was naught but water ! 
 
 My first thought was to jump into the 
 waves (now making from some breeze) and 
 swim to the shore, for I was in a kind of 
 terror at this voyage of land through water 
 to perchance some dreadful death, if the 
 lad's tale was true. Yet bethinking now of 
 icy springs that might cramp me, I stayed 
 for other chancing of help to bring me forth. 
 
 This second thought I believe did save 
 my life, for those poor souls who had been 
 lost no doubt had jumped on that first mad 
 desire for freedom, when the light left them 
 to a black voyaging on this floating island. 
 
 Your wisdom hath already seen that it 
 was indeed upon such an island I was sail- 
 ing, and that ere long (as pressed forward 
 by the wind) I made safe port upon the 
 other shore ; but I had as yet heard no 
 report of this marvel, being newly come to 
 Study Hill. Trust me I waited not to see 
 whether eerie crew did moor my bark, but 
 made speedy landing, and quickly got me 
 home. 
 
 Now there is wonder enough in an island 
 that shall float and make voyagings, but the 
 light which lured me to it, and near wrecked
 
 55 
 
 my life by sudden leaving, was greater mar- 
 vel yet. 
 
 Upon searching afresh in my books, how- 
 ever, I did get therefrom some account of 
 Will-o-the-Wisps, so called, which this was, 
 mayhap ; as also gaseous like the first, but 
 of different quality 'tis certain. The year 
 of which I write was notable for many 
 strange lightings ; as never before was 
 known such a number of rainbows (both of 
 sun and moon) with many too of those 
 northern lights, while for quantity and bright- 
 ness in phosphorus lighting-up of the sea I 
 never saw match. When to these things be 
 added a host of dropping stars that year, it 
 were possible that both the lights that so 
 mocked me were engendered and drew their 
 quality from the air and sea, full to over- 
 flowing with brightness. So, wishing to do 
 fairly, I will e'en count both my lights 
 natural ones, howbeit I follow such no more 
 and would advise others not. Some have 
 told me there was a double warning in what 
 I have seen, and that fire may yet visit my 
 home; but as to this I borrow no trouble. 
 
 And now to the last appearing, which 
 (having now done with fire) I hope may 
 pleasure you more than the others, tho' 
 harder to find natural reason for. 
 
 It was dusk, as before, and while I 
 sat by the door of a summer eve, I had
 
 56 
 
 thought much of my Cambridge days, with 
 a remembrance at the end of old Dr. Caius, 
 and the curious gates placed by him, at the 
 college of his name, whereof he was mas- 
 ter. He called these the gates of Humility, 
 Virtue and Honour, and they long shall live, 
 monuments to the wise and good builder. 
 
 The moon was darkened as I pondered 
 this last matter, and on parting of some 
 clouds shone forth now in her beauty again ; 
 when I saw under this new flood of light, a 
 tall figure standing by the river's bank. 
 Even at that distance there was a dignity 
 in his bearing that I could not but perceive, 
 and noting his dress also, which was a kind 
 of loose robe, I saw that he caught it up a 
 little, as he turned and slowly came toward 
 my house. 
 
 I wondered much to see a stranger, and 
 such an one, approaching at this hour to my 
 poor retired spot at Study Hill ; but, as he 
 came nearer, I arose and bade him welcome, 
 with an offer of some refreshment. This he 
 gravely declined, thanking me with stately 
 courtesy, nor could I prevail on him to be 
 seated ; so joining him in a slow walk, we 
 paced backward and forward in the path 
 that maketh in front of my house. 
 
 " When you were in Cambridge," quoth 
 my visitor, " did you pass through those 
 gates of mine at Caius, the ones called 
 Humility, Virtue and Honour?"
 
 57 
 
 At these words I shivered as from cold, 
 for I was enlightened on a sudden that this 
 grave man was none other than Doctor 
 Caius, or rather that it was his spirit who 
 thus walked and talked with me. 
 
 He turned to me, on this question, with 
 so kindly a look (yet a little of sadness in 
 it) that I recovered my spirits in time to 
 answer soon that I knew the gates well. 
 I told him, moreover, that his conceit of 
 the gates, liked me much, in thus symboliz- 
 ing such virtues, esteeming it a most useful 
 lesson. 
 
 The low gate (that first and meaner one) 
 did put the youth upon some knowledge of 
 his own lowliness, as all too oft entering 
 with little store of humility. 
 
 So was it wise to study a course afterward 
 leading through no other gate than virtue, 
 until that final passing to a degree through 
 that last gate of honour. 
 
 He heard me as if well pleased, and then 
 with a sigh (from some remembrance I 
 ween) spake again. "The gates cost me 
 much study in the planning, and no small 
 sum in their building, but I am well content 
 in them ; and my chief delight is to walk 
 through those gateways in the quiet hours 
 of the night, when my youths are asleep. 
 I love all Cambridge-bred men, whether of 
 my particular college or thine of Emanuel,
 
 58 
 
 br any other belonging to the ancient uni- 
 versity ; and I am well pleased to see thee 
 placed in so sweet a retiracy for study 
 of nature and books. I am much drawn to 
 thee and this reposeful spot, but time 
 presses, and duty now calls me far away ; 
 wherefore I must follow that call, for so I ever 
 taught my lads that they must do. I came 
 to see if thou hadst chosen as wisely as 
 reported to me, and leave thee content in 
 that." 
 
 His manner was so noble and kindly, 
 with a gentle dignity back of it, and his 
 words came with such sweetness and truth, 
 that I almost held my breath to listen, and 
 fearing to lose him from a little fading of 
 his form at the last of his speaking, I was 
 on begging him to stay, when lo ! he was 
 gone. This grieved me much both for sor- 
 row at parting from so kindly a ghost, and 
 because of a question or two I had thought 
 to ask him ; howbeit I had refrained, as 
 knowing that ghosts in general better like 
 to talk than to be talked to by us mortals. 
 
 Though I soon betook me to bed, it was 
 long ere I gained any sleep for thinking of 
 my visitor, of what he said and how he 
 looked. 
 
 In the morning I told all to my wife, and 
 though she marvelled some at what I said, 
 yet questioned me close whether it might
 
 59 
 
 not have been a dream, as I sat by the door 
 in peaceful slumber. But you will see that 
 this could not well be, with such nice match- 
 ing of circumstance, and I would have your 
 good counsel, as to this happening, what it 
 might mean. It is the only one of the 
 three appearings that I can find no natural 
 cause for, so am I the more desirous for a 
 better understanding of it. The fires I 
 have satisfied you on, I trust, but not this 
 last happening. 
 
 NOTE. Although Mr. Blackstone was spared loss by fire 
 during his life, yet, strangely enough, very soon thereafter his 
 house was burned (at the outbreak of the Indian war) as if in 
 tardy fulfilment of what some had prophesied as a result of 
 his double warning.
 
 DOCTOR CRANSTON'S 
 
 A MARVELOUS CURE AT NEWPORT. 
 
 It doth ever happen that a physician sees 
 many strange things if his practice holdeth 
 to as many years as mine hath grown. 
 When the body wasteth, the mind oft en- 
 genders humours and conceits that would 
 find no lodgment there in health. It were 
 wrong to take speech or behaviour then as 
 an ensample of health, and worse still for 
 physician to make known abroad ; a folly 
 greater than the sick man's imaginings. 
 
 So, rest assured, I shall o'erstep no 
 bound of discretion, in naming any, or tell- 
 ing aught that should offend. You know 
 my reputation as a bar to this, and have 
 seen the public evidence of esteem in my 
 skill, when I was licensed to administer 
 medicine and recorded as Doctor of. Physick. 
 Now, having good assurance that naught 
 herein shall ill affect an}'-, you may hear 
 how one who came for benefit of my skill 
 fared therein, and how I fared by him. 
 
 I had returned late one evening from a 
 long ride up the island^ well tired, being not 
 yet hardened to such service, for it was in 
 the first year of my practice. I pulled off
 
 61 
 
 my boots (changing to easier gear to rest 
 my feet) then pushed together the embers 
 of the fire to warm myself ere betaking me 
 to bed, and leaned back in my chair with a 
 beginning of some comfort, when I heard 
 a thumping upon the outer door. 
 
 I paid no heed to this at the first, for an)' 
 who saw my light would soon enough enter 
 if on urgent errand, and I desired not to go 
 forth from my content within except on 
 real need ; as the bringing in of a new life, 
 or making easy the passage out for one 
 whose case was beyond my help. 
 
 I went on, therefore, casting up in my mind 
 what money might come to me from this 
 hard day's work with those who were sick, 
 and others who thought themselves so ; not 
 forgetting a good allowance for bad pay, 
 many accounts (as doctors well know) a 
 loss in themselves and but waste of paper 
 and ink to try for their collecting. 
 
 I was reaching a nice point upon this 
 summing -up (from the bleeding of one 
 whose full habit needed relief, another's 
 black draught, a lotion for an old dame's 
 rheumy bones, besides oil, garlic, and oint- 
 ments for lesser bruises, colic, etc.) when 
 again came the knocking, and harder, as 
 with a stick; upon which with some vexa- 
 tion at such rude interruption upon my 
 comfort, I shouted loudly to enter. This
 
 62 
 
 the knocker did without further invitation, 
 and I heard heavy slow steps advancing 
 through the passage towards my room, with 
 a sound as if the stick was used to help his 
 progress. 
 
 Anon appeared a grave looking man, of 
 middle life and stature, using a crutch to 
 aid his steps, and with one leg lifted from 
 the ground ; some pain also showing in 
 his face as I helped him to a seat. 
 
 Inquiring now as to his hurt, he motioned 
 toward his left leg, which, on removal of 
 some bandaging, I saw was so broke below 
 the knee that it must be speedily lopped 
 off. This he also seemed to know, for he 
 now addressed me thus: " I would have thee 
 speedy in- thy cutting, for it groweth late, 
 and my time is short, being needful for 
 other matters; so bring forth thy tools and 
 while thou art at work on my poor leg, I 
 will regale myself with a pinch of snuff 
 from this box, none handsomer to be seen." 
 
 I did not then observe his snuff box, but 
 got to my work at once, and finished as 
 soon as might be ; not a sound coming from 
 my patient, except his sneezing, as indeed I 
 some, from the snuff in the air about me. 
 
 When I had made a finish, and stood back 
 in some satisfaction at the work (being in 
 verity my first taking off a limb unaided 
 by older physician), the visitor again spake :
 
 63 
 
 " Now if thou wilt treat the other part of 
 my leg as well, I will e'en carry it away for 
 further use." 
 
 This speech did much amaze me, till the 
 thought came that his pain and keeping un- 
 der any show of it had touched his head ; 
 and to humour him I prepared his late 
 member as if alive. 
 
 When all was done, he gazed on it with 
 great content awhile, and then said, " As to 
 pay, most skillful doctor, I will return this 
 day a year hence, at same hour (being just 
 upon twelve) and give thee thy due twice 
 over, save for one thing, which if it so hap- 
 pen, I shall quittance have from paying 
 anything." 
 
 He paused here a moment to take a fresh 
 pinch of snuff, and then proceeded : " The 
 one thing that shall bar thy receiving any 
 pay, is good proof of a sound joining of the 
 two parts of this leg. If this proof be made 
 'tis my acquittance, but failing therein, I 
 must pay thee double fee for thy services. 
 As pledge of my good faith I leave this 
 golden snuff box of most curious workman- 
 ship, the calling for which shall be evidence 
 that it is thy patient who demands it. 
 Notice too this odd-fashioned mole on the 
 piece of leg just treated, a mark to recall 
 me with when next we meet. Now must I 
 get me to my boat, lying close by at end of
 
 64 
 
 street, and when arrived at the ship will 
 seek my cabin for a few days' rest till these 
 parts of my leg do join ; so fare thee well 
 till our next meeting." 
 
 If amazed at this speech, I was the more 
 so now to see him moving away with the 
 piece of leg under one arm, and crutch un- 
 der the other ; out through the passage 
 and into the street even, before I could 
 recover myself. Coming out of this mar- 
 veling, I started up to put on my boots, 
 that I might follow the poor demented 
 creature lest he should do himself some 
 serious hurt; but here an accident befell 
 that stayed me till too late. 
 
 As my patient went forth, he had placed 
 in my hand the snuff box, which I was now 
 for putting on the mantel shelf, when, by 
 some chance I hit the spring, and forth flew 
 the snuff in such a cloud that eyes and nose 
 were filled to smarting, and for some space 
 I could not see my boots, much less draw 
 them on. 
 
 When at last recovered in a measure from 
 my sneezing, coughing and weeping, I hur- 
 ried out, and followed the short pathway to 
 the water-side, but found no boat, though I 
 thought a distant sound of oars could be 
 heard. 
 
 Upon my return to the house, I placed the 
 snuff box carefully away from sight and
 
 65 
 
 use, for I wished not to try its contents 
 further. 
 
 It was long ere I could summon sleep to 
 rest my still smarting eyes, and my aching 
 head, filled with thoughts of the strangeness 
 of my visit and visitor. On the morrow I 
 tried to make all but a dream, yet there 
 was the snuff box, proving that what I had 
 seen was no vision. 
 
 And now as the time approached toward 
 the end of that year's space of which my 
 patient spake, I pondered much whether in- 
 deed I should see him again, scarce believ- 
 ing it possible. If demented, surely I 
 should ne'er see him more, and if in reason, 
 certes it were impossible he could make 
 good his word of such miracle joining of 
 leg's parts ; so the snuff box seemed like to 
 be my only pay. 
 
 Toward the close of the time, too much 
 dwelling upon this matter did some affect 
 my health and spirits, and I have since 
 heard complaint that my attention was less 
 close upon my work, answers made at ran- 
 dom, and medicines given that griped where 
 they should have soothed. 
 
 A bill or two I made acquittance of tho' 
 still unpaid, and sent in other accounts that 
 had already been discharged, to my great 
 discomfort on finding such medley made. 
 
 I roused me from this unsettled way of
 
 66 
 
 thought and action in time to save my 
 practice, having learned a good lesson from 
 it, which I will pass on to younger doctors' 
 profit, if any perchance need it. Physicians, 
 of all men, must keep their minds on their 
 work as the old saying hath it; this is 
 what I learned and would have others know. 
 
 They have to do with that God-given life 
 (more precious to Him than to us even, who 
 so prize it) and like the good steward of holy 
 writ must be faithful in small things as well 
 as great. 
 
 The physician must be also vigilant, 
 quick to see and act (upon good judgment) 
 and vastly patient, knowing no defeat till 
 the poor body he has ministered to, be re- 
 turned to dust, the soul to its maker. 
 
 Now he cannot be all these with a mind 
 upon drinking, gaming, or dreaming even 
 (as I had done) or indeed upon anything 
 that shall create disturbance in the thoughts. 
 True, have I seen great cures by men who 
 did all these things, being by nature most 
 expert, and setting bounds upon their license 
 at times, to work great good, but these may 
 be uncertain if not dangerous counsellors. 
 
 So let younger physicians in especial 
 remember that while there is a time for 
 merriment, pleasures rightly come by, and 
 dreamings even ; yet must these not bar 
 nor hinder the way towards the least (as we
 
 67 
 
 call) of those children of God, to whom 
 ministrations are needful. 
 
 If now besides a natural calling and the 
 hard study to skill you, there shall be the 
 close attention I have warned you of, I see 
 no reason why you of the younger sort may 
 not reach to the estate of some of us elder 
 ones. There is one thing more I would 
 have you possess (but that is as God willeth, 
 for I know not how come by if nature give 
 nothing of it); some grains of common sense, 
 seasoned with a little dry humour. This 
 will help you through many hard places, 
 and serve you as well as your learning, 
 many times. 
 
 True it is that some physicians hold 
 themselves with much gravity and solemnity, 
 as necessary to the dignity of their profes- 
 sion, and if there be no pompous affectation 
 in it, there is not much harm ; yet 'twere 
 well to carry it more naturally (not to do 
 worse, however, by tiring a patient with idle 
 chatterer ill-timed mirth). A steady cheer- 
 fulness were best of all, back of which lieth 
 oft the humour I spake of. 
 
 But to come back to my story ; the day 
 at last arrived and nigh upon that hour 
 when the marvel, if ever, should come to 
 pass. 
 
 I sat, as before, in my accustomed place 
 by the fire, and I do confess in a little un-
 
 68 
 
 easiness, while the clock was slowly striking 
 the hour of midnight ; for I could feel that 
 my heart beat faster time, as I strained 
 mine ear at sound of footsteps faintly heard 
 or fancied, on the frozen ground near my 
 house. Fancy it was not, for there was a 
 pause now, and then a thump upon the outer 
 door, which so startled me (tho' some pre- 
 pared) that I jumped from my chair. 
 
 Vexed at my own disquiet, -I called 
 loudly to enter, following which came a 
 sound like to that before, of steps and stick ; 
 so that my conclusion was quickly made of 
 no joining of limb, else why the use of 
 crutch ? 
 
 I was now angered some to have thought 
 such thing possible, and more that he 
 should have dared to put such folly before 
 me for my sober belief; and was ready to 
 rebuke him for such trifling, when there 
 stood before me the same man indeed, his 
 crutch with him, but not in use, for handing 
 to me and bowing low, he thus spake: 
 " Greeting, kind friend, and take, I pray 
 thee, this now useless crutch, for my leg is 
 so happily joined that I do believe it sounder 
 than its mate ! " 
 
 Seeing me marvel at this, he quickly re- 
 moved leggings and hose, and showed his 
 leg (mole mark and all) as neatly joined as 
 might be, with a little band about the
 
 69 
 
 place. He capered about now in such cur- 
 vetings and jumpings, to show its usefulness, 
 that I was nigh dizzy and begged him to be 
 seated, and tell me how this wonder came 
 about. 
 
 I gained not much, save that he lay quiet 
 in his berth a month, by which time it had 
 knit together well; and he then commenced 
 careful use, following soon with no more 
 care than was^iven to the other leg. 
 
 He stoutly averred that it was mine own 
 skill in fitting each member (doubtful as I 
 had been of any joining) that did bring the 
 wonder about when he placed the parts to- 
 gether. 
 
 " If thou canst as well practice in all 
 branches of thy profession," quoth he, 
 " thou might well betake thyself to London, 
 where many could advantage of thy skill, 
 and thyself gain much profit. Rest assured 
 that I shall publish afar thy skill, and ever 
 be glad to show in myself the evidence of it. 
 
 "Tho' thou mayest not take gold from 
 me by our contract, yet, as showing myself 
 not ungrateful, I pray thee to keep this 
 snuff box, so cunningly inwrought. It may 
 not only serve as some remembrance of me, 
 but perchance as proof to any unbelieving 
 soul, that so wonderful a cure was made. 
 It was fashioned by a most skillful gold- 
 smith, long years since, across the seas, and
 
 70 
 
 hath some magic qualities if they be come 
 upon. Take good note of the workmanship, 
 and then of its double opening, for touch 
 but the right spring, and the back opens, 
 thus, with mine own miniature painted on 
 ivory ; and again closing that, turn the box to 
 touch another spring, if thou wouldst have 
 snuff yielded forth. Now fare thee well, for 
 time presses and I must away ; keep well 
 this box, and the crutch tootl leave with 
 thee." 
 
 The last of this came to me something 
 mistily, for upon his word about the snuff 
 yielding forth on touch of spring, it scat- 
 tered so bountifully that eyes, nose and 
 mouth were filled as once before, and for 
 sneezing, weeping and coughing I could not 
 have thanked him if I had tried, nor bent 
 much on trying by reason of the pain I was 
 in. I have ever since been most careful in 
 handling of this magic box, tho' little snuff 
 remaineth ; and that little should have 
 emptied but for the thought that part of 
 the magic might lie in the snuff itself. It 
 is indeed of a most pungent kind, as any 
 may find to their cost if they will try its 
 quality. 
 
 Upon the morrow I made wide inquiry 
 for a ship seen entering or leaving port, but 
 heard of none, so this coming and going, 
 like the first, must have been in the night ;
 
 71 
 
 a special business to gain my services, and 
 afterward to thank me. 
 
 My friends have differed much in their 
 opinions upon this great cure. A few have 
 deemed it impossible ; going so far away for 
 reason as the supposal of a twin brother 
 sent the second time to work a deceit on 
 me, with mole, too ! 
 
 Others did say I should have loosed that 
 little band about the joined place and looked 
 for contrivance of hooks or bracings yet 
 the flesh of that lower part was in as good 
 health as the rest of the leg. 
 
 One indeed did say all was but an inven- 
 tion of mine own to puff up my practice, 
 with crutch and snuff box secretly procured 
 for so poor a purpose. This one bore an 
 ancient grudge against me, however, of 
 which becoming disabused finally, he did 
 repent him of his story, and agreed it was 
 mere spleen and envy made him spread it 
 forth. 
 
 So it would seem indeed that this matter 
 must rest as none other than a marvelous 
 cure, until better unraveling be found ; yet 
 I will promise no more such, tho' I hope in 
 most things as skilled as any. 
 
 I have oft since thought of my grave-ap- 
 pearing caller, and in particular of that first 
 visit ; how calmly he moved away with 
 crutch under one arm and his piece of leg
 
 72 
 
 under the other, leaving me so choking and 
 sneezing with his snuff that I had no power 
 to stay him, nor voice to dissent from his 
 contract. The magic box I still treasure 
 carefully, and have showed to many who 
 have heard something of it. 
 
 This account I have now writ out is the 
 fullest I have e'er made of a matter that 
 hath caused inquiry in letters to me from 
 far and near, so wide hath my patient spread 
 the tale of his marvelous cure, and my skill 
 therein.
 
 MR. BAULSTONE'S XALE. 
 
 THE FIRST CALLER TO MINE INN AT 
 PORTSMOUTH. 
 
 It hath been my good fortune, of late, to 
 read some tales that were, upon occasion, 
 related at the Seven Club, as called; and so 
 much have I pleasured in them, that it hath 
 stirred me to put into writing some recol- 
 lections of mine ere I do forget them. If 
 this shall be deemed worthy of the reading, 
 I pray Mr. Jefferay so to do at his club, and 
 if the tale limpeth hardly in parts, from my 
 clumsiness in putting together, yet I would 
 fain hope there may be a kernel to please 
 you in some corner of it. 
 
 But I would indeed rather wait upon 
 guests at mine inn from dawn to dusk than 
 put my hand to pen for an hour's space. 
 Mr. Jefferay and others of the club have 
 been wont to praise my claret, and I have 
 some content in believing that I am a pass- 
 ing good host ; but for this business of scribe 
 it tasks me sore to do e'en fairly well in it. 
 With less excuse I could not commence, 
 and now without more ado, to my tale. 
 
 It was May the twentieth, in the year 
 1638, that I was granted liberty to set up 
 my house of entertainment for strangers ;
 
 74 
 
 and ere many days I was ready for such 
 custom as might come, having hung my 
 sign in a perspicuous place, as desired by 
 those in authority. 
 
 It was nigh dusk, and as I sat by the 
 doorway, resting, after a day of much toil, 
 my mind ran upon many things. 
 
 I bethought me of that fair home across 
 the seas, which I had left but a few years 
 aback, with a hope for more freedom in 
 religion on reaching New England than I 
 had left in Old. 
 
 Then came remembrance of my sorrow 
 (bitter indeed), at the worse hardships suf- 
 fered in the Massachusetts by many of us ; 
 fines, disfranchisement, and discharge from 
 public offices, because of our expressed 
 belief in Mr. Wheelright's innocence, and 
 that the court had condemned the truth of 
 Christ. Next came thoughts of our happy 
 arrival at this dear isle of Aquidneck, where 
 if the labour be at first hard, yet is there 
 peace with it, from a liberty of conscience 
 elsewhere denied. 
 
 After contenting myself that some plant- 
 ing had been secured, and housing, if rude, 
 accomplished ; I last of all fell to pondering 
 on who should be my first customer. 
 
 I was debating, upon this, whether I 
 should give free entertainment of drink to 
 this first comer, in respect he was such (tho'
 
 75 
 
 no merit perchance in that) ; when a voice 
 at my elbow, as if one had read my thoughts, 
 did thus salute me. " The first one greeted 
 hath indeed good warrant for bed, board 
 and drink, as thou well sayest." 
 
 Now I had not said nor thought thus far, 
 yet was a little confounded at the sudden- 
 ness of this speech, as supposing none near 
 me. 
 
 More wonderment followed, when, turn- 
 ing, before I gave answer, I saw, seated 
 close beside me, a man whom mine eyes 
 had ne'er before rested upon. 
 
 I had no thought that my first caller 
 would be other than some one of our own 
 company, for it was early yet in our settle- 
 ment for any chance guest from the main. 
 
 The stranger was so oddly fashioned in 
 face and form, that I can liken him only to 
 the one Mr. Jefferay and Mr. Clarke have 
 told you of, who had that ring in his left 
 ear only, as did this man indeed, with other 
 markings the same as you have beforetime 
 heard. 
 
 When I was some recovered from my 
 wonder, I was upon answering him, with a 
 thought to lessen his too large interpreting 
 of my welcome, when he again spake. 
 " Thou makest me so welcome that I will 
 not be outdone in courtesy. I pray thee 
 therefore that I may settle all score of any
 
 76 
 
 who shall this evening make merry at the 
 opening of thine inn. 
 
 It shall be a housewarming indeed, for all 
 thy friends will surely come to enjoy thy 
 good cheer. 
 
 Make them welcome, with no thought of 
 pay, for I will settle their score. But if 
 thou hast any doubt of me, I will e'en pay 
 thee now, having in this bag enough good 
 pieces of gold to satisfy many such accounts. 
 
 Listen to the music of its clinking, and 
 now try how heavy it may be, as truly the 
 carrying of such weight hath, with my long 
 travel, much wearied me, so that I fain 
 would rest. Bid thy boy therefore carry 
 the bag to my room, where I must soon fol- 
 low for the repose I so much need." 
 
 Upon his ending this talk, I was so well 
 satisfied of his solid worth, that taking then 
 the bag (which was both heavy and sweetly 
 clinking) I called my boy and bade him 
 carry it to the best chamber; with message 
 to my wife to give us as quickly as might 
 be, the best supper possible, for our guest 
 could have known only the daintiest fare, 
 to be so rich in gold. 
 
 " I must beg a little from thy store of 
 tobacco," quoth my visitor, "and then I 
 will answer thy question of my travels." 
 
 It had surely been in my thought to 
 have asked him this, yet certain am I that
 
 77 
 
 no speech had been made by me, for e'en 
 when ready, he seemed to read it in my 
 face, and answered the thought ere I could 
 utter it. 
 
 Now, as he puffed forth great clouds of 
 smoke, did he commence again: "I have 
 traveled in this America of yours from the 
 Isles of Shoals to the Carribees, and am 
 lately come from the first, tho' how, thou 
 shalt ne'er guess." 
 
 He did here pause a little, but tho' 
 I did try to tell my guessing, yet could I 
 nothing speak; partly I think from marvel- 
 ing at the wide, squat form of him, his hairy 
 brows, and piercing eyes. 
 
 " I left the Isles last night at stroke of 
 twelve," but here I started back so sharp 
 and quick (to hear of such dispatch) that my 
 chair toppled over, thumping my head right 
 smartly; at which, thinking I heard a low 
 laugh, I looked up at him before I rose, yet 
 perceived no mirth in my visitor, who pro- 
 ceeded most gravely. " My dispatch came 
 about from my magic boat, now riding at 
 anchor close by yonder shore. She is fash- 
 ioned from a scale of that grisly and mighty 
 sea serpent that causeth such havoc, to the 
 eastward mostly, but sometimes nearer thy 
 coast. This boat doth have such a hold 
 upon her parent that he cannot refuse to 
 pull me about in her, wherever I will, and
 
 78 
 
 whenever I demand it of him, if I may 
 once get hail of him ; not always done 
 with ease, however, as he liketh not the 
 labour, and will avoid me if he can, by 
 keeping outside my call. On yesternight 
 did I espy him off the isles I spake of, too 
 distant perchance he thought for eye or 
 voice to reach him. But my eyes are pass- 
 ing sharp, and my voice tho' sweet and low 
 to women, (who ever delight in my converse) 
 yet can put on so loud a quality, when need- 
 ful, as reacheth far away. 
 
 So, spying him a long way out, under the 
 moonlight's beam, I hailed loudly, and 
 right speedily he came, but with a manner 
 so enraged as would have frighted most to 
 see it. What angered him the more was the 
 finding, on his approach, that I had given 
 passage to a mermaid, the fairest of all 
 those who did once disport themselves about 
 the Isles of Shoals, and the last one, she 
 only 'scaping, the rest crunched into pieces 
 and eaten by this cruel monster, in years 
 gone by. This last one (now safe within 
 my charmed boat) I had promised to bring 
 with me to Aquidneck, as being a safer spot 
 than where she had hitherto been. So, 
 paying out a goodly length of line to the sea 
 serpent, that we might avoid the splashing 
 of his tail, we were soon speeding merrily 
 along; the mermaid's fears of the monster
 
 79 
 
 soon yielding to my gentle assurances of her 
 safety while with me. Now thou, who art 
 quick at reckoning up thy customers' scores, 
 can make easy account of how many mov- 
 ings of this serpent's tail should be needful 
 to bring us to this island, for each time his 
 tail doth move a mile is passed. But in thy 
 account, due allowance make for time of his 
 feeding; once with much relish on an Indian 
 who had ventured out too far in his canoe, 
 and again on a poor fisherman, near Cape 
 Ann. This last grieved me much to see, as 
 indeed I would have stayed him from both 
 feedings had I had the power, and time not 
 so short to reach here ; for this sea serpent 
 must have his food if any work be got from 
 him." 
 
 As my strange visitor here stayed his 
 voice, I began to feel a restlessness, with the 
 beginning of some fear behind it, yet I much 
 desired to hear the end, so I waited in such 
 patience as I could find in me, having no 
 power to speak, nor wish to try my voice. 
 
 " Well, mine good host, there remaineth 
 not much to tell, save that we arrived safely 
 this morning at Newport, where some of 
 your company here go soon to dwell. The 
 water was too shallow for the monster to 
 proceed nearer thee, and so, his work well 
 done, I left him snug-coiled about that Goat 
 Island, as some do call it, fast asleep.
 
 80 
 
 " Advantaging by this, my mermaid pas- 
 senger (after a tearful farewell, as loath to 
 leave me) did hie her to Cormorant Rock, 
 by my advice ; where I trust she will find 
 safety in a hiding place as yet unknown to 
 her pursuer, whose greatest delicacy is mer- 
 maids. If good fortune ever favours thee to 
 see her, thou shalt find the most beautiful 
 being thine eye ever rested upon, and with 
 vastly pretty ways. To this, however, thy 
 wife may not agree, for women look not 
 upon mermaids with our eyes. 
 
 "So, this parting o'er, I rowed my boat to 
 thy shore, whence I walked here, right tired 
 with so much travel. If it be thy pleasure, 
 I will on the morrow carry thee to see my 
 magic boat, and will e'en now hail that sea 
 serpent with my loudest call, to stay him at 
 Newport till we tie to him for a brief sail. 
 Tis true he may have waked and gone 
 hence, but wouldst thou hear the quality of 
 my call ?" 
 
 Seeing no such desire in me, he said : 
 " Well, if thou hast no wish for my voice 
 farther, I will to bed, early as it is ; so make 
 merry with thy friends, some of whom I 
 see are already coming." 
 
 And indeed I now perceived the advance 
 of some, by the path leading from the woods, 
 and then I bethought me that my guest had 
 departed without having tasted food or drink.
 
 81 
 
 I therefore charged my boy to go quickly 
 to him and say that great plenty was upon 
 the table, if he would join us ere he slept ; 
 but the lad, returning soon, reported no 
 answer to his message, save a snoring sound. 
 Upon this, my wife prayed me to let the 
 poor man sleep, and after good rest he 
 should eat the more when morning came. 
 
 Nor did I eat any supper of consequence, 
 for all my long waiting, the relish for it 
 quite departing on hearing of that human 
 diet of the sea monster, and of his crunch- 
 ing those poor mermaids in his jaws. My 
 friends, too, were now coming so thick upon 
 me, that what with greeting and serving 
 them, no time remained for aught else. 
 
 As soon as my report of free entertain- 
 ment was heard, the thirst of all seemed 
 doubled, and when some satisfied in that, a 
 few (grown merrier now upon my good 
 drink) declared this first comer, so bounti- 
 ful to them, must be brought down that 
 they might thank him. The most prevailed, 
 however, that his rest should not thus rudely 
 be disturbed, many promising to call upon 
 the morrow, that acquaintance might be 
 made of one so courteous. 
 
 'Twas late hours we did keep that night 
 mine inn was opened, and early hours indeed 
 ere the last guest departed ; for there was 
 much news to be passed about, and plenty
 
 82 
 
 to hear it, as never yet had so many of my 
 neighbors been gathered together. 
 
 After latest news had been thus talked 
 upon, some tales must be told, with good 
 songs following by a few of the younger 
 sort, but no revelry ; most not desiring it, 
 nor would I e'er give countenance to such, 
 having kept always an orderly house. 
 
 Upon a few hearing of the strange visitor's 
 stranger voyage, others must have me tell 
 to them, so that this much telling (with other 
 things I spake of) made small wonder that 
 late hours were kept. 
 
 The last bottle of my claret was finally 
 reached, tho' I had thought enough store to 
 last much longer (howbeit some upon coming 
 from Manhattan), and the last good night 
 said, with good luck to my future trade ; so I 
 gladly sought my bed, where I slept long 
 and soundly. 
 
 The first thought on awaking was for 
 the welfare of my guest, that greatly prized 
 first caller at mine inn, the bountiful and 
 courteous one. I sent my boy to his door 
 to inquire when it would pleasure him to 
 break his too long fast, my wife having made 
 a goodly setting forth in his honour. The 
 lad returning with word that he got no an- 
 swer to his call, I followed quickly on this 
 report, fearing our guest in some sickness 
 from much travel and fasting. Long did I
 
 83 
 
 knock, but got no answer, so at last oped 
 the door, when lo ! none was within, nor bed 
 slept upon ! 
 
 Marveling much at this, I looked well 
 about for some trace, if not of him, at least 
 of that bag of gold, but found naught ; and 
 was upon leaving, to tell my wife how both 
 had vanished, when mine eye fell upon a 
 piece of paper lying on the table. 
 
 Now taking this up, I read as follows: 
 
 "Rec'd of mine host, Mr. Baulstone, a 
 rare night's enjoyment (seeing all, yet my- 
 self unseen). I say received. 
 
 (Signed) THE STRANGE VISITOR." 
 
 So angered was I to be thus duped, with 
 that added insolence of an acquittance to 
 me, who should have given one to him, for 
 gold I might now ne'er see ; that I was near 
 beside myself for a space. 
 
 In truth it was his so befooling me that 
 vexed me even more than my loss, tho' that 
 no small matter, for my company had been 
 great, with thirst to match. I hurried me to 
 the shore to look for his boat, but saw only 
 a speck far to the south, wherefrom came, 
 I thought (borne to me on the breeze) a hail, 
 but could scarce believe it, from the great dis- 
 tance, so it may only have been my fancy. 
 
 Returning to mine inn, I was in time to 
 meet some neighbors (coming upon that 
 promised visit to greet my guest), and would
 
 84 
 
 gladly have been spared their questionings, 
 but as that might not be, resolved to e'en 
 put a good face on it, and thus make a bad 
 business end merrily. 
 
 Therefore upon question of how my guest 
 rested, and when he could be greeted, I bade 
 them follow me to his room if they would 
 know him better than only upon my report. 
 
 Coming there now and seeing none, they 
 looked around in so great perplexity, that I 
 fell to laughing, nor ceased till again in- 
 quired of as to my guest's presence or want 
 of it. "Faith," said I, "here is all I found 
 of him this morning! " On which I gave 
 into their hands my acquittance from the 
 strange visitor. 
 
 When they had all read, and pondered 
 upon it, some diverse opinions arose. One 
 said he had thought some knavery might lie 
 in the matter of such seeming bounty to 
 strangers, but made no mention before, as 
 knowing my general wisdom and experience 
 of men, gained in my vocation. 
 
 Another called it but a jest of mine to 
 make some pleasantry, thus giving a free 
 day to all upon my opening. 
 
 A third declared, that being the first of 
 my neighbors to arrive, he did believe me 
 then asleep in my chair, for he twice spake 
 ere I replied. 
 
 But none could tell how (if I slept and
 
 85 
 
 dreamed) I should give out orders to others 
 between pieces of my dreaming albeit 
 none but myself 'tis true did see the 
 stranger, not e'en the lad, for I reached the 
 bag of gold within the door to him. 
 
 The greatest bar of all to my dreaming is 
 that acquittance, which is here enclosed 
 for some of your Seven Club to compare 
 with that chart which Mr. Clarke hath told 
 of, as having a mark in one corner like the 
 Evil One's coat armour, the which may 
 match with a strange mark in the acquit- 
 tance now sent you. 
 
 My friends talked on this matter much 
 then, and more after with aquaintances, so 
 that for a month's space I had many callers 
 to mine inn, with inquiry ever for my guest, 
 and what he said and did. 
 
 After talking their throats dry, I profited 
 by some added custom, so lost not much in 
 the end, from my strange visitor's coming. 
 
 One who sailed close to Cormorant Rock, 
 soon after, declared he saw an appearance 
 like a mermaid, sitting on the edge, and 
 that she raised her hand, whether as beck- 
 oning to him, or to comb her hair, he could 
 not well make out. Others do scoff at this, 
 as being none other than a seal he saw, tho' 
 not many have ventured so close to that 
 rock since hearing my tale of " the first 
 caller to mine inn."
 
 MISTRESS PORTER'S XALE. 
 
 MY HUSBANDS AND OTHER TRIALS. 
 
 Should it so chance that this be the last 
 tale sent for reading at the Seven Club, (as 
 women 'tis said will ever have the latest 
 word !) I wish more wit might appear than 
 fears me may be found. If any think I shall 
 make grievous plaint of my husbands (all 
 three alive) they much mistake, for tho' 
 thereby some tried, not always have I been 
 free from blame. 
 
 Now that I am a little aging (yet still 
 called comely), many things are clearer seen 
 than formerly, and (tho' the young never 
 will learn save by bitter experience) a little 
 counsel and warning shall I give, if perchance 
 a few may heed. 
 
 For a commencing, I would advise young 
 maids ever to avoid all forwardness both of 
 manner and speech ; set not heart overmuch 
 on finery (tho' always in neat attire), and 
 beware of smooth and flattering tongues ; 
 e'en choosing company by the wisdom God 
 planteth within to guard the innocent. 
 
 I did start wrong in some of these as you 
 shall soon see, for now I am come near to 
 my story, which (tho' so many better ones
 
 87 
 
 already) I hope may some content you, e'en 
 tho' much discontent of mine in it. 
 
 I know you all for men of reputation and 
 solid worth (some indeed with learning 
 gained from universities), and shall the more 
 esteem it, therefore, if my tale doth please 
 you. 
 
 The first of my childhood was not spent 
 in London, being sent there from the coun- 
 try at age of ten, or thereabouts, upon the 
 occasion of my father's death. 
 
 A poor time of life to lose so good a 
 father, for I loved him most dearly and was 
 ever more mindful of his word than of others 
 who have since tried to rule me. 
 
 He knew some good in me, I do believe, 
 and how to bring it forth ; nor spared the 
 chiding of my faults. 
 
 I think he more dreaded leaving me to 
 battle through life, than his own going from 
 earth ; remembering as I do his last long 
 and sad look at me, gazing into mine eyes 
 with such wealth of love as I can ne'er for- 
 get, till joined with him again, 
 
 My mother loved me too, granting all 
 things she could afford to pleasure me (and 
 more I fear, sometimes), but having not 
 so good command as he whose care I had 
 forever lost. 
 
 When arrived in London, I was at first 
 nigh confounded with the greatness and
 
 88 
 
 bustle of it ; fearing to venture forth alone 
 lest I might be lost in the winding of streets 
 and lanes. 
 
 This fear soon passed from me, however, 
 when the newness had gone out of my 
 thoughts ; and soon there were few ways, 
 indeed, not familiar. I delighted most to 
 wander by the water-side ; and tho' warned 
 of rude sailors there, found them civil 
 enough in the main. Hours have I set by 
 the side of one, spinning his tales of lands 
 beyond the sea, while splicing rope or patch- 
 ing of sails. 
 
 But soon I was growing out of childhood, 
 and my romping plays gave way to more 
 care of looks and dress, with some new fin- 
 eries that must be seen in my glass to set 
 them well ; to say nothing of mincing steps, 
 and sly looks back at bold 'prentice boys, 
 passing. Truly the most favoured of nature 
 in their looks did always put on the boldest 
 airs ; and so, not to be outdone by her, I 
 favoured most Dame Nature's favourites. 
 This I the more freely confess as a tale is 
 naught unless truly told. 
 
 It had been wiser to keep a while longer 
 to my books, and closer to household cares : 
 but knowing better (or thinking so) I went 
 my course, with my mind mostly on gowns, 
 and latterly some jewels that had been given 
 me to better grace them. Dancing and
 
 89 
 
 visits to the play house (if all be told) were 
 become frequent, tho' my mother ne'er 
 knew of this last. 
 
 I was even now scarce fourteen years, and 
 then it was I met a most handsome youth, 
 few liklier, for looks, in London ; John 
 Hicks, by name. 
 
 He spoke fairly and promised well, and, 
 for that I had thought him a 'prentice lad, 
 he said he but acted it for a time, in some 
 stress of fortune, coming of far nobler 
 strain ; and this he had thought I should have 
 perceived. I took some fancy to his good 
 looks and lordly ways, and much pride also 
 to be seen by other maids with so brave- 
 appearing a youth ; yet I know not if it 
 reached far into my heart. A woman will 
 ever make all she can of the youth who first 
 bespeaks her, whether he prove true or false. 
 
 I am not so bitter toward him now as 
 once I was, trying in these later years to 
 grow out of all old-time spite ; and know- 
 ing full well that I should have better 
 guided my own steps, however others may 
 have sinned against me. I was not, as I 
 have said, come to fourteen years (tho' near 
 it), when on a sudden proposing of secret 
 marriage by this youth (with setting forth 
 thereafter on voyage across the sea), I had 
 the folly to consent ; moved partly by the 
 noise it would make, and the sighs some
 
 90 
 
 maids should heave at losing their chance 
 of him. 
 
 He waited not long for my cooling in 
 this, and we were quickly married at St. 
 Faith's, close on St. Paul's ; waiting some 
 days ere I told my mother, and of our soon 
 sailing for New England. 
 
 It caused her many tears in the hearing, 
 and more at the soon parting ; and some 
 shed of mine own, as beginning to see that 
 happiness is not in what we have, especially 
 when not rightly come by. 
 
 It was thus that we sailed away, and were 
 come at last to Weymouth, in the Bay, 
 where we lived in some measure of con- 
 tent for the space of two or three years, 
 thence coming to Newport in this fair isle 
 of Aquidneck. 
 
 It was in the year of our Lord, 1640 that 
 we reached Newport, and it seemed then 
 (as it doth now) that a fairer spot might not 
 well be. The sweetness and mildness of 
 air, the fair prospect on every hand, (with 
 the safety from Indians in situation) took 
 strong hold upon me. 
 
 In this peaceful feeling I hoped some dif- 
 ferences, of late arisen betwixt us two, 
 might be healed ; but so it proved not, for 
 sweet content cometh never in change of 
 outward place alone. There must be change 
 within ere rest is found for perturbed spirit.
 
 91 
 
 I will not try to assort the blame for each, 
 tho' once I did account all his. That was 
 enough, but perchance mine some. 
 
 My mother had sent me out some estate 
 (enough needed when come) and would have 
 followed it with more ; but the rest of her 
 holdings, with her own life and my brother's, 
 went afterward in His Majesty's service. 
 
 My husband soon left me for the Dutch, 
 at Manhattan, or thereabouts, taking most 
 of my estate, and the son he had by me. 
 
 In some time that was now mine for re- 
 flection, it were well if I had remembered 
 that old saying of an hasty marriage afford- 
 ing abundant leisure for repenting. 
 
 'Tis certain I felt no pressing need now 
 to make such haste in a second marriage, as 
 I had in first. As to the age I was now 
 come to, I have indeed given an easy reck- 
 oning for it, so that it is plain to see I was 
 not twenty yet, tho' a wife some years and 
 lately in a kind of widowhood. 
 
 I am particular in this, to show how one 
 woman, if no more, strains not to make 
 younger than she is ; and 'twere but fair I 
 might have this one comfort from so early 
 marrying, that it hath ever kept a youngness 
 in me. I was, at time I write of, therefore, 
 no older than many maids unmated and un- 
 asked. As I have to tell of other husbands 
 soon, 'twere well to have in mind the name
 
 92 
 
 I first bore, if by chance it hath 'scaped 
 you, from my several married ones. 
 
 The name given at my birth was Herodias 
 Long (or as in general called Horod for 
 shortness) ; and that changed o'er soon to 
 Hicks, will now come to another changing, 
 as your wisdom hath already guessed. 
 
 My next husband was not gained until 
 after some stir caused by dispute as to my 
 carriage on the sad occasion of the deserting 
 just related. 
 
 The men, for most part, declared I did 
 carry myself in much modesty, with a sort 
 of sweet sadness, the more pitiful in one 
 so young. 
 
 The dames and maids were not all in 
 agreement to this, some even so cruel as to 
 flout me for a putting on of grief. I an- 
 swered them not in such coin as they gave, 
 but my second marriage may have been 
 something spurred on, to cure quarrelings 
 and heart-burnings only to be thus stayed. 
 
 I take no blame to myself here (who have 
 enough other), as no fault of mine that I 
 was comely ; rather a misfortune indeed, I 
 have oft thought. 
 
 But if my reasons for this marriage were 
 some better founded than the first, yet 'tis 
 but folly to place aught in the stead of love. 
 
 To this belief will I ever hold ; and if late 
 taken the more credit that I have grown to
 
 93 
 
 it after much error and folly. Wiser than 
 the old age of some, who, commencing bet- 
 ter, have at last so fallen away as to give 
 first place to gold, power, or office ; only 
 finding therein vanity, vexation and bitter- 
 ness, as they near the great river. 
 
 I am on good resolve to see things at last 
 aright, for that I made so poor a start and 
 have too lamely followed on through most 
 my life. But I must on with my tale, nor 
 spare myself in the telling. 
 
 My second husband was a man of good 
 parts, well meaning in the main, and better 
 favoured as to looks than most from whom 
 I might choose, among those that sought 
 me ; and this no small number, which was 
 the cause of those heart burnings of certain 
 maids, with pretence to disdaining me. 
 
 So judging too much by looks, instead of 
 searching my heart, I took this one from 
 those who offered ; having since heard that 
 some (disappointed in losing him) did call 
 me forward, and harder names. I hope this 
 were not so, and certain it is that all who 
 desired could not have had him. 
 
 Before you condemn me too hardly in 
 this second rash entrance to what should be 
 most holy bonds, I pray you consider my 
 still youth, and want of early guidance. 
 There is one thing I would have clear, to 
 wit, the regularity of my marriage to George
 
 94 
 
 Gardiner, for such his name ; calling to your 
 minds the testimony of Mr. Stanton, how 
 one night at his house, before himself and 
 wife, we took one the other for man and wife. 
 
 Now, tho' this was many years before 
 truth brake forth in the Quaker way, yet 
 had this marriage some leaning toward their 
 method ; albeit they have safeguards in a 
 host of witnesses, and other matters to 
 make legal ; our best approved men in this 
 colony being, many of them, Quakers. 
 
 'Tis in the knowledge of some of you that 
 we lived together near twenty years ; until 
 those differences arose of which I will later 
 tell. But lest you should tire of husbands 
 only, I must relate of another sort of trial 
 that came upon me. 
 
 It was on occasion of that first flocking to 
 the Quaker belief, being in the month of 
 May (as I have cause to remember) and the 
 year 1658; that a clear conviction came to 
 me forgiving forth of testimony, journeying 
 to Weymouth for that purpose. 
 
 It was long and sore travel to reach it, 
 near sixty miles through wilderness, with a 
 babe at my breast, and only other compan- 
 ion Mary Stanton, to help me with the child. 
 
 For that I had not enough suffered in this 
 task (which a man in full strength would 
 have accounted hard) ; I was brought to 
 Boston before that stern dealing Endicott,
 
 95 
 
 and sentenced, with my companion, to ten 
 lashes, as cure for esteemed heresy. 
 
 When I had suffered this, from a three 
 fold, knotted, whip of cords, I kneeled down 
 and prayed the Lord to forgive my oppres- 
 sors, and was then cast into prison, being 
 there confined fourteen days, as fit place to 
 heal such cruel scourging. 
 
 It might well be thought I would trouble 
 the Bay no more, yet once again went there, 
 on occasion of that worst cruelty e'er prac- 
 ticed by Endicott; the hanging of Mary 
 Dyer, a lamb indeed, led to the slaughter. 
 
 This visit (not generally known) was some 
 years later, and kept something secret on 
 the starting forth. 
 
 Yet upon that day of sainted memory I 
 cared little if any knew, so worked upon 
 was my spirit at such sacrifice. When, 
 upon the crowd dispersing, an officer did 
 peer sharply at me, (looking for any un- 
 sound as she who hung on tree), I threw 
 back my hood that he might the better see 
 my face. 
 
 But he let me pass unchallenged, for some 
 murmuring of the people was begun at this 
 worst cruelty (a turning in the tide, toward 
 censure) for the very pity of it ; and there 
 were no more hangings. 
 
 Thus I returned to Newport unharmed, 
 and in my short absence unmissed by most;
 
 96 
 
 for I made no vain boast of it, nor should 
 mention now except that true narration 
 must be made of all that hath befallen me 
 in trials. 
 
 None has so affected me as to see this 
 dame (of most surprising beauty) wrought 
 upon so wickedly by hard laws of harder 
 men. I can e'en now hear those direful 
 drum-beats, sounded that none might be 
 moved by speech of her. as all were by the 
 sweetness of her face. 
 
 If it weary you not I must again to my 
 husbands. 
 
 I was on telling you of my second, Mr. 
 Gardiner, and suffice it to say that I bore 
 him many children, in whom (if not in our- 
 selves much) we took some comfort. 
 
 Toward the last of it, however, there grew 
 a feeling that an ill considered union had 
 proved but an ill assorted one, the yoke too 
 hard to bear ; tho' fault not all of either, as 
 I will freely say. 
 
 Upon seeing (or fancying so) he wished 
 no more of me, I resolved not to be left a 
 second time, but e'en leave him ; and desired 
 the most honored Assembly that I might 
 have due allowance for my livlihood. 
 
 What labour and estate he had of me, with 
 enjoyment of house upon my land, as also 
 my daughter to bring up and maintenance 
 of her, all this I asked ; and that he be re-
 
 97 
 
 strained from troubling me more. We are 
 now come to about 1665 in my story, and you 
 have seen me freed from my two first hus- 
 bands, though not truly a widow. 
 
 Touching both, I have some wondered if 
 any thought e'er came to them (as oft to 
 me) of the sad state that our children were 
 brought to, by no act of theirs, but only by 
 our folly. 
 
 I remember the piteous look of the 
 younger ones, as scarce knowing where to 
 turn for love ; not able to allot the blame, 
 and bereft of a proper living with both of 
 us. We had much desired freedom ( a word 
 which exalteth humanity) in thinking for 
 happiness thereby ; but some freedoms bring 
 it not, if others rightly may. So that now 
 come to us had more bitter than sweet in it. 
 
 In this land (as most others) men and 
 women deem it wiser, in general, to live to- 
 gether, if for no more than company, tho' 
 it were better, methinks, to ne'er join unless 
 the heart be with it. 
 
 It was not long ere my late husband found 
 one whom I trust may have proved a fitter 
 mate than his first choice. I did not think 
 to follow him in this, but had commenced 
 so young on marriage that I could scarce re- 
 member when I had not husband, and thus 
 most lonely now; causing much debate within 
 me as to what the best course might be.
 
 98 
 
 I was well resolved to at least take time 
 enough to know my mind clearly before ven- 
 turing again ; tho' several pressing offers of 
 marriage already made, so no lack of choice. 
 It should be held in mind that I was now 
 just turned forty, and esteemed younger 
 still ; so if suitors came it was small wonder, 
 nor blame to me if any comeliness of mine 
 should draw them. I am sure you who 
 believe in fairness will hold me so far 
 blameless. 
 
 When Mr. Porter came in seeming honesty 
 (and I believe so meant), proffering not a 
 young man's love, but kind treatment and 
 care, with assurance mine estate should suf- 
 fer not by him ; I did at last consent to take 
 him for third husband, and went then to 
 dwell at Narragansett. 
 
 Here I doubt not shall my last days be 
 spent, for he hath ever done as agreed, and 
 I should be in fair content if my mind could 
 be rid of thoughts of his late wife (tho' liv- 
 ing), Margaret, from whom he parted in that 
 same year of my last separation from hus- 
 band. 
 
 I do know this ancient dame as a most 
 worthy woman, and would not have her rest 
 in the belief some would fasten upon her, 
 that this late husband (now mine) did plot 
 with me in putting aside our former mates, 
 to join ourselves. This is so false I would
 
 99 
 
 pass it by altogether, had not some assent 
 been made by such as are always ready to 
 believe the worst of their neighbors. 
 
 There has much joy come to my soul in 
 the knowledge of a good settlement which 
 my husband hath made on this former wife 
 whereby her declining years may pass in com- 
 fort, so far as housing and goods may give it. 
 
 It was upon occasion of my third marriage 
 that one envious dame did liken me to that 
 Wife of Bath, of whom Dan Chaucer told 
 (tho' I hope not like her in all) ; while an- 
 other hath quipped on my name by calling 
 me an horrid example, in having so large 
 store of living husbands. 
 
 I care not for such floutings (which ever 
 hurt most the makers thereof) ; knowing 
 well the right and wrong of my life, in some, 
 lately come, clearness. Such railers I for- 
 give, as indeed all who ever wronged me ; 
 hoping for a like pardon from any I have 
 harmed. 
 
 My husbands three (with wives having or 
 had) shall believe .this if no more of me ; 
 that I wish them such good health and 
 sober happiness as God in his great mercy 
 may vouchsafe to them. 
 
 And to you whose patience I may have 
 some taxed, as to all later readers (if such 
 ere be), remember God's word, and while 
 you do justly, forget not to love mercy.
 
 100 
 
 Try yourselves as well as me in the read- 
 ing of this, as to whether you might have 
 played a better part if a father's love and 
 counsel had been lost to you at so tender 
 an age, and if thus thrown into a great city's 
 turmoil; where even the strongest sometimes 
 grope and falter for the right way. Let me 
 caution some of you older ones, sheltered 
 in quiet corners and soft seats, not to grow 
 hardened there yourselves, in judgment of 
 the young. If their hearts reach rightly 
 out to one another, hinder them not, from 
 any worldly scruple, but help rather ; that 
 they may gain the best part of life, that 
 nearest like our final haven. 
 
 If I have missed love's best degree, 
 never shall it be said I have lost my faith 
 in what might have been, and my hope that 
 it may come to give content to others. 
 
 To the young, in especial, I would give 
 this added counsel ; guard well the treasure 
 of your heart, as the richest possession ; 
 make sure you give it wisely, with no re- 
 serve needed then in the bounty and full- 
 ness of it. 
 
 I know not what weighing may be mine 
 on those balances Mr. Jefferay dreamed of, 
 but if I take my course honestly thereto, 
 so much at least it favours me. 
 
 Ah ! who can tell (of us here) about that 
 last weighing, and how it will go with self,
 
 101 
 
 friend or neighbor. Not always as we have 
 deemed it. The Searcher of all things alone 
 doth know, and we may but do our best 
 and leave all judgment to Him.