home not only to see my family friends, but my spiritual friends also. I
can still see, glory be to God, I was still hungring and thirsting after
him. I thought before I come home, if I could be permitted to come into
preaching housen dors, I should be very happy, but praise be to God, I
had rather the right hand of felowship given me, the preaching houses
full of people where I was expected, as before. I staid at home until 24
Dec^{r.}, and as the war seemed to be near at hand between the Franch
and Inglish, inbarked at Coverack, on board Captain R. John's. I had a
blessed time in company with my dear freinds there, two or three day
wind bound. Arived at Roscoff, Christmas day in the morning, 1 Jan^{y.}
1793, oh, how short I comes in all things of what I would wish or
ought[63] to have been. There was no talk of war when I arived there,
all was quiat as when I left the place. I found my house, etc., just as
I left it. I was then to myself as before, I went home like a hermat or
a king blessing and praising of God. I continued to walk in the same
self-denial. I sent off moste of my goods to Gurnsey, sold sume there,
and keept sume, what the law would alow me to bring home, as I was
promised that a vessel should be sent to bring me home. So I think
Feb^{y.} 2[64] there was an embargo lade on all English vessels, and war
declard between the boath Kingdoms. I think it was in the latter end of
March when I was sent to Morlaix as a prisnor, not close confined, but
to apear every morning to the town house to sine my name. I was there
nine or ten days, when I was ordered back to Roscoff again. Things at
that time looked very gloomey, but glory be to God, I was not the lease
afraid of all the lyons in France. I could trust boath soul and body in
the hands of my Redemer, no mormring, no complaining, the language of my
heart was continualy, "Good is the will of the Lord, may thy will be
done." I staid in Roscoff nine or ten days, when I was ordered again to
Morlaix in company with Mr. and Mrs. _McCullock_ and Mr. _Clansie_. I
think in the beginning of May was sent back again to Roscoff, Mr. M. and
Mr. C. in Roscoff the same time, where we was all obliged to go to the
town house every day to sine our names. So continued untel the beginning
of August, when we got a passport in order to come home. In the course
of this time, wilst in Morlaix, the same as at Roscoff, went to privat
lodgings. Walking still in the same rigrous selfdenial, etc. So as there
was no other way for us to come home, M. Macculloh bought a small
vessel, aboute 40 tons, and boute the seven or eight hauled the vessel
out in the Sadie Rock Road, and got all things on board ready for sea,
when there was orders from the town house with a corvet's armed boat,
ordered us in to the pier again. And this was Provedence indeed. Our
whole crew consist as follows: Mr. Macculloh was a jentleman marchant,
lived in that town many years before, a man of good property, etc.; Mrs.
Macculloh, two sons, one a man, the other aboute twelve years old, one
daughter, a young lady aboute eighteen or twenty years old, one sarvant
man, two sarvant maidens, Mr. Clansice, and myself, ten in number in
all. And we concluded before, that the old jentlman and me was all the
sailors, there was not one of the other eight that in no case could help
themselves. The four females was sent onshore to Mr. M.'s house, all the
rest of us keept on board with a gard of soldars for three days and
three nights, the wind blowing very hard tho' fair. This vessel was
condemed for sea for sume time before, so that in the cource of three
days we had time to overhaul her, and I think I may safely say that
there was scores of graving pieces in her not bigger then a man's hand;
sume of the timbrs so rotton, that one might pick them off with one's
fingers, the sails, masts, etc., in the like state. We had hard rain
sume part of that three days, where we was so wett below nearley as upon
deck. The old jentleman have told me many times since, saying it was
Providence prevented us from sailing, had we sailed then we should all
be no more. You may be ready to ask, Why did we expose ourselves to so
much dainger? I answer, "This was the third pasport, and all
conterdicted, and glad to git out of the mouths of the lyons, as there
was no other way." So we was all sent on shore to Mr. M.'s house with a
gard of soldars to be keept at the dore, and the 15 of August, 1793, all
march'd to St. Paul's with a gard of soldars. I lodged and boarded in
the house with Mr. and Mrs. M., where I had a good room and bed to sleep
in, and a large garden to walk in. Now, I am going to inform you of sume
of the devices of Satan. One evning, whilst at suppar, seating by the
side of Mr. M., when it was sugested to my mind the same as if _one_ was
to speak to my outward ear blasfamys thoughts against my dear friend Mr.
M. At first it struck me all of alarm. Upon reflection I was shore they
were not my thoughts, for at that time, and before then, I know I never
loved my own father bettar, and after, when the gulenteen[65] begun to
work, I have thought many a times, should him be condemned, I would
gladely die in his steed. So after suppar took a walk in the gardon as
usual, where I begun to reason, saying, "Shorley if I was saved from
inbred sin, I should not feel such ugley thoughts as these and then
begin to doubt." But praise be unto God, he did not leve me to doubt for
harley a moment, but sent me down the Comfartar, so that all doubts
vanished away in a moment. So I went to seat in the summar house, and
begun to sing, that I suppose that I might be heard all over the town.
I suppose I shall never forgett that evning wilst in time, how my poor
_sou_l was delighted in God my Savour. Still went on in the same rigrous
selfdenial, but I could not fast then for fear to be taken notice of
with the family. I staid there until the 12 or 13 September, 1793, when
sume officers came, sent by the town house; so after they examined us
for money and papars, took us to the Town House, and after they measured
our height, and asked us many foolish questions, took us to a prison
caled the "Retreat," in the same town. We arived there a little after
night, were all of us showed our apartment to lodge in. I had a nice
little room to myself like a king. Here was another chainge, but a happy
one, the language of my heart was, "Good is the will of the Lord, may
Thy will be done." Nor could I help singing that night alowd when I went
into bed. We all had our pervision sent from the House we lodged before,
and after four or five days past, we was joined by sevral French gent.
and lades, and in aboute fourteen or fifteen days there was two armed
horsemen sent in the preson to take Mr. and Mrs. M. from us, no person
knowing where they were to be sent, but supposed they were to be sent to
a small uninhabited island, a little off Brest harbar, and there to be
starved to death. Oh, what tears and cries was there with their little
famely and many others. It was seldom I could shed tears, th_en I_ did
plenty, and after dried up my tears and cheard myself up, and then went
in to his room, where I found him alone packing up his clothes, etc. I
sat myself down in silance I supose for aboute ten minutes without one
word; whether him or me spoak first, I know not, but he said in his
usual plesant way to this purpas, "I fear not what man can do unto me. I
can trust in Providence and not be afraid," which set my heart all on
fire with love; I could give them both up unto God, shorley beleving I
should see them again. The remainder of the day was a solam day unto me
in deed, but a day of mourning through the whole house; after this there
did seldam a day pass but what sume Jentmen and Ladis was brought to
join us, and in the beginning of Nov. 1793 the lady I boarded with and
sume of her famely was brought to us. I used sett times for reading,
praying, walking, and thinking, as I did before when I was at liberty,
and keept allmoste all the time to myself, I went to bed aboute ten or
half past, and got up as soon as I could see daylight in the morning;
and as the weather begun to alter, juste to run in the garden aboute
half hour in the fore noon, and the same in the after noon. At first the
people thought I was ither a natural fool or else mad, but my friend
Clansie gave them an account of what kind of being I was. Aboute this
time I had word brought me, that all my goods _I left_ in Roscoff was
condemed and sold, I suppose they might have been to the amount of £40.
I rejoiced with great joy when I heard of it, saying the Lord's will be
done, knowing all things should work twogether for good. It apears
clearley to me since that my will was wholy swallowed up in the will of
God; I think I was then shorley so dead to this world as ever I shall
be. Well, then, as the people begin to increase more and more evry day,
Mr. Clansice came with me in my little room. At first it was a great
cross to me, but soon after, the oftener I saw him the better, far
bettar I likt him, he ackted like a father, a brother, my tuter, my
sarvant. Glory be to God for such dear frends. He was a young jentelman
merchant, a man of great natural abilities, and I suppose brought up in
the first scools in Christendom. I knew his father and him from a child
before, but was little acquainted with him before we became prisonars
together, and I have thought many times since that there was not in the
whole world two such men as Mr. M. and he. About the 3 or 4 of Dec^{r.}
1793 a gard of soldars came into the prison and took with them my dear
friend C., Mr. T. Maccull, with a great number of French gintelemen and
ladis, so there was none of my family left, but Miss M. her dear little
brother, and the two sarvant maidens. I think such a scene as that I
never saw in all my life. I suppose there was not one dry face in all
the house, _either_ with men or whimin. There was not one _person_ that
know where they were to be sent to, but supposed they were all to be
sent upon the same Island with Mr. and Mrs. M., and there to be starved
to death. This was a day of mourning and lamentation indeed. I do not
know that I shed one tear, tho' it was a solamn day with me, still the
language of my heart was, "Good is the will of the Lord, may the Lord's
will be done." But the tryal was so great, the same as tearing the flesh
from the bones.
Aboute the 6 Dec^{r.} 1793, when a gard of soldars came to the preson,
and took away I suppose between thirty and forty prisnors, and me one of
them, where to go we knew not; but Provedence enterfered, and worked
upon a French jintelman's mind, so that he took Miss Maccu^{h.} and her
little brother, with the two maidens, to his own house, so that they had
all liberty to walk the town when they pleased. This was the cause of
great joy and gladness unto me. There was a few horses brought for the
old and infarm to ride--two, which one was put in my hands, and ordered
to ride it, with a charge to keep it to myself. We had aboute twelve
French miles to go, so we arived to Morlaex just after night, where, to
my agreable surprise, found dear C., Mr. T. M., and sume jint^{n.} of
Roscow, whome I know before. We rejoiced greately together, and then
they g_ave_ an account of Mr. and Mrs. Maccu^{h.}; they was put _from_
St. Paul's to a town caled Landernau, aboute twenty miles from S^{t.}
Paul's, in to a crimnal gaol, where the first night had nothing to lye
on but a little short dirty straw, and without one farding[66] of money
with them, and not one person in the town that they were acquainted
with, but in the morning was visited with sume jint^{n.} and lades, who
suplyed them with a bed, and brought them pervisian. So we rejoiced
greately together in telling and hearing. Here was a blessed chainge
again to me, to once more to be with my dear family at home again. This
place we was now in was a jentleman's house, all the family thrust out
and put into other prisons, and this house made a prison of. The house
was not large, but it was full of people below and aloft. I sleept in
one room, where there was fourteen beds, and there could not find the
least cornar to retire to myself but a little house. At that time it was
very cold, but I did not mind that. I could not stay there long to a
time, distorbed with one or other, as there was sixty or seventy
presoners there. I had not one farding of money, nor nither of our
family, but the law or rule was, by the order of the Convention, for the
rich to maintain the poor. So I think I was maintained by the publick
for two days, when my friend C. got credit for himself and me, from a
tavarn close by. What a great chainge this was again, all the day long
in nothing but a discord and noise. What a mercy it was I was not
d_raw_ed away by the multitude to do evil. I can see now at this moment
how I improved my time, how prechas every moment was, I had allwayse my
book in my pocket ready to hand if I could find any place to seat, and
sume times, when I could find no place to seat, stand to read. All the
people very civil to me, and in the beginning many of them introduced
their conversation; but I did not find it profatable, it sarved to block
the mind from prayer. Tho' I could understand and speak French on moste
common subjects, I soon gave them to think I know little or nothing, so
by that means I saved myself from a great deal of empty chatchat, so by
that means pass allmoste whole days, sume times without speaking very
little. I have often heard sume of the French gentlemen speaking very
high thing in my favour one to another, not knowing I could understand
them, and I think it had allwayse this efect to humble me as in to the
dust before God and before man. I was still watching over all my
thoughts with all my words and actions. I do realy now beleve that there
did not one thought pass through my mind unperseved in all my waking
moments, still living as under the immediate eye of God, walking in the
broad light of his countanance from moment to moment. I had left of
drinking of water from the year of '89 in America, but there was a well
close by the backdoor. I had _a_ tumblar glass where I went sume times,
and _filled a_ glass with water, and look at it again and again. Oh, how
my heart would burn with love and thankfulness to God. Aboute a week
after I was there, I had a book given me by a French gent that spoak
English, caled "The Sinner's Guide," pen'd by a Spanyard, but translated
in English. The name of the gen^{t.} that gave it me was Mr. Lereu,
which proved a great blessing to me indeed.
25 Dec^{r.}, or Christmas day, 1793, Mr. T. M. and Mr. S. was taken from
us, and put to a town caled Carhay,[67] aboute thirty miles from
Morlaix, and there they joined Mr. and Mrs. Maccu^{h.}; all the rest of
us was moved to another Jen^{t.} house, a few dors off, where we had
more room, etc., Mr. C. and me still left together. The first thing I
allwayse lookt for first was a place to go in secret, and my friend C.
would allwayse look out for a place for himself and me to sleep in. I
found a nice _little_ place in the garat, with sume old mats and other
things I so inclosed, that it would just hold me to my knees, with my
feet out of sight, where I might stay so long as I pleased, and no
person distorb me. This was a blessed chainge again. I sleept in a room
with ten or twelve gent^{m.}, went to bed at ten o'clock, got up in the
morning at five, _spent an_ hour to myself, and at six went down stairs,
_and sat by_ the fire with the old men that garded _the house_. To read,
etc., until about half past seven or eight, when I should retire to my
little garat until nine, when I should come down, make my bed, and run
or walk in a large room until ten, and then retire again to my garat
until one o'clock, when I was caled to dinnar. After dinnar, aboute two,
I retired to my garat and stay there until half past three, come down
and run in the room until four, then retire, and stay there until aboute
seven or eight, stay down aboute half hour, and then pass in the garat
until ten, bed time. There was a small window in the garat aboute a foot
square, without glass, but a leef to shut and open, so that in the
daytime could see to read by it, but at night I seat without any light,
the days nearley the same length as they are in England. At that time I
begun to, what I call, to examen myself, which time was from half past
six until aboute nearley eight in the evning--about the same time that
the many thousands of methodists offered up their evning sacrifise in
England--and begin first to see the many wonderfull delivrances the Lord
had wrought for me--how I have been presarved so many times from
drowning and other dangars, then how I was convinced of sin, how I cal'd
for mercy, what tryals and temptations when I was seeking the Lord, how
and when I receved the Comfarter, what tryals, temptations, when I was
in a justified state, what [...], what fears, what joys and delights in
all plases I have [...] since I know the goodness of God; how many times
I prayed in secret in evry place, what self denial I walked in, and to
conclude, sume up the whole, saying, Lord, how is it with me now; am I
growing in grace or loosing of ground? This garat was very cold indeed
to the body, so that my hands was swollen very large with chilblins,
sitting so many hours in the cold without fire.
Jan^{y.} 1794, aboute the beginning of the year, Mr. C. got me to sleep
with him in his little room and one French jen^{t.} This was again a
comfartable chainge; there we was together again, like to great k_ings_.
Aboute the latar end of this month, I was desired by C. to speak to
aboute twenty whemen caled nuns, being presnars in the same house. I
went with fear and trembling. They received me in a very _pleasant_
manner, drew a chear,[68] asked me to seat down. _One of them, an_ old
Lady, the mother Confessor, asked _me, was_ I ever baptised. I answerd,
"Yes." "In what manner?" I answerd, "I was marked with the sign of the
Cross in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Gost."
I saw sume thing very plasant upon all their countnance, as it was the
same way they themselvs was baptised. They asked me a number of many
fullish questions, that I was obliged to mustar all the little French I
could rise, as I could understand and speak any thing aboute the coman
things of this life far better than the spiritual things, having no
person to converce with aboute spiritual things. However, they keept me
with them I suppose aboute half hour, still asking me questions, but at
laste asked me to kiss the Cross. I refused. They tried me again and
again. I told them I could not, I dare not do it. So at laste took my
leave of them, and so came off rejoicing like a king. They are a loving
people, and the nicest whemen I ever saw in France. I doubt not but many
of them lives according to the light that is given them. They petted me
very much, and told my friend afterward that if he could prevail upon me
to turn to their Religion, I should be a good man. They thought I was
earnestly crying for mercy, but was an entire strainger to the way of
mercy. They allwayse looked upon me afterward with the love of pity,
_and some_ of them was fond to converse with me, [...] found it
profitable, they after caled [...] the soletude, I spent so much time to
myself. I think it was the 11 or 12 of Feb^{y.} '94, I seat apart to
prayer and fasting on a particular occasion for thirty hours without
eating or drinking. At the 19 and 20 of the same month, I seat apart in
prayer and fasting to ask of the Lord sevral favours for self and
friends, with thanks for past mercys, forty-eight hours without eating
or drinkin. Oh, what a blessed time I had. The 19 and 20 of April, 1794,
I seat apart in prayer and fasting for forty-eight hours without eating
or drinking. I trust I shall ever remember these times wilst I am in
time. Oh, how my poor soul was delighted in God my Saviour. To the end
of this time I went to run in the room as usual, willing to know whether
I was weaker or not, so that I found I could run strong as ever I could;
and it was shorley to me _a great_ wonder, as I took no breakfast for
aboute six months _before_ then, and I took suppar sume times two, and
sume times _three times_ a week, and my suppar I supose did not exceed
two ounces of bread, without tea, water, or anything to drink, and my
dinnar very little. I was still suplied with dinnar from the tavern. Mr.
C., and aboute six or eight French gen^{t.}, dined together. I could not
keep all this a secret from my friend, so he took me to reason sevral
times, saying, "You'l destroy the body," and would intice me like a
child to eate, and allways took the pains to call me to dinnar. So _I
thought_ it was reason what he said, and I thought I was _going to_ too
great extremes, so I thought for the time to _come I would_ go without
breakfast and suppar as usual, _and fast_ for thirty hours once month,
for the time to come. I did not know then at that time I was thankfull
or humble, but even now, I know I was as less then nothing in the sight
of God and all men. I know I was unworthy of the floor I walked on, and
vilest of the vile in my own eyes. I never saw my short comings more
clearer than I did in them days. Oh, how often I was crying out against
my dryness and lasiness of soul, my littleness of love, etc. Sume times,
when I heard the clock strike, I uste to rejoice, saying, "Lord, one
hour nearer to Eternety," the same time mourn before God I did not spend
it more to his glory. I think every moment of time was far more preshas
then fine gold. Aboute this time there was numbers of gen^{t.} and lades
_taken_ away to Brest that I parsnally know, and their _heads_ chopt off
with the gulenteen[69] with a very little notice. I don't know I ever
had a doubt of my own life, but I have had many of Mr. M., and thought
many times, should he be condemed to die, I would gladly die in his
steed if Providence would have it. I knew he had much enimies, and why,
because he was a libral man and a man of powar, and did do much good,
and them he did do most good to was his greatest enimyes, and it was
_such men_ as him in genral sufferd moste. Ag_ain_ [...] if he was
spared, he was worth his _place in_ creation, be helpful to others as
well as his own famely. As for me, I thought I should never be found
wanting with any person in the world. I know my child at home would be
taken care of, so it was a mattar of very little defrance to me where
the body was left, knowing I had a house not made with hands, eternal in
the Heavens. I staid there until the 15 June, 1794, when the house was
cleared of all the presnors, and then put to a convent a little out of
Town, that was made a prison, caled the Calemaleets,[70] where there was
aboute 270 men and whimen, the house very full of people. We arived
there aboute nine in the morning, and as Mr. C. and me was shifting
aboute the house seeing for a place, standing in the _room_ talking
together, he was taken with a fit and fell _as_ dead in my arms. Soon
others came to my assistance, _and took_ him out in the yard as dead. It
was very seldem _that I_ shed tears, but then I did plentefully, as I
was in m_ind_ he was no more; but the language of my heart was _still_
[...] _may_ thy will be done, come life or death, take life _and all_
away, good is the will of the Lord. But praised _be the Lord for_ ever,
in the course of an hour he revived, and _was put to_ bed, so that in
the course of sume time after _he recovered_. In the garden I seat
myself under a tree and _thought of H_agar's words, "Thou, God, seest
me." I had a sweet time there until _I was disturbed_ by two young _men_
that came to seat by _me_ [...] with a great m_errime_nt and ladies, and
_soon after_ the Lord provided a place for me under the stairs. It was a
large stone stairs going down to a under-ground seller. In the daytime I
could see a small glimring light, but never so light as to see to read.
This was a blessed place again, indeed, where I was out of sight and
hearing of all men. Mr. C. got part of a room in the garat, with a young
jen^{t.}, whose name was Morrow. The first night I made my bed in the
passage close by his door. Friend C. could not bear to see me there.
The next morning him, with sume young jen^{t.}, got carpentar's tools
and timber, turned to and divided the room in two, so took me in with
him again, and there we was again together like two great kings. We
could no longer have our food from the tavarn, the distance being too
far [...] The good lady that I lodged and boarded with in St. _Paul's_
was brought to the same preson, and a young _gentleman_ with her, her
brother son, to which she _had_ d^{r.} C. and me with her to eate. She
had her per_vision_ sent from her own house. Blessed be God [...] for
such dear Friends. In the course of two _or three_ days I found my
strength much failed me. _I had_ more room to walk in than I had before,
_and_ long _stairs_ to go up and down over. Mr. C. _discovered_ it, and
took me again to reason, saying, "_You are_ of the earth, and the body
must be _helped with things_ of the earth; if you continue so, you'll
_hurt yourself_, and if you do not _feel_ any ill efects _now_ [...]
_you_ shorley will if _you_ lives untel you are old." I thought it was
quite reason that he preached to me. I thought I was going too far with
it, and that Satan had some hand in it; so after he watched me like a
child, and if I was not presant at the time of meals, he would come and
fetch me, and I must go with him, he would not be denied. Praise be to
God that I ever saw his face, he was allwayse more mindfull of me than
he was of himself; so I continued to take breakfast for eight or nine
days and then left it off again, and I unely staid without suppar twice
a week. This place was again a blessed chainge indeed. We had a large
garden to walk in, from six in the morning untel seven in the evning, I
suppose not less than three acres of ground, with fine gravel walks in
it and sume apple trees, etc., so I was like a bird left out of a cage.
I suppose I had not sung aloud to be heard with[71] man for many months
before. I _was_ allways surounded with[71] man, but then I _used to go_
out with my book in my pocket, seat mys_elf under_ a tree, and if I
could not see any person, sing _so loud_, I suppose I might be heard for
a mile off. Oh, _how my_ soul would be delighted in the God of my
sa_lvation_. I remember one day, as I was seating under _a tree_, three
or four ladies came to me, and asked me _to sing. I begged_ to be
excused. They asked me again and again, so _as I was afraid_ to give an
ofence I sung two or three versis [...] _with_ a loud voice. They
thanked me in a very p_leasant manner_, and went away quite pleased. I
think I spent my time _to myself much_ the same as I did in Roscoff,
before _I was taken_ as a presonar. _I was_ allwayse mindfull of my
little cornar under the stears. I went to bed at ten o'clock, and got up
in the morning at four. All the people still full of friendship to me;
but I keept myself still to myself as much as posable, without giving an
ofence. There was there amongst the whole number aboute sixty nuns, one
of whom I conversed with more then all the rest; seldom miss a day, if
she saw me, but what she would have sume thing to say unto me. But I had
not French enough to enter into any depth of Religion, but I never heard
one sound of persuasion from her to turn to her Religion. Once I
remembered she asked me, saying, "Carter, did not you feel your self
very sorry when you was first convinced of sin?" or sume thing to the
same purpas. I was struck with wondar where she got that from. I think I
may safely say she was a burning and a shining light. She had small
suplys often from _her_ [...] _fat_her's house, and well she had it
often as it was _possible. It was al_wayse in her powar to govern her
own mind. _Every day_ she would give allmoste all she had to the poor,
_or to any_ person she thought that wanted; lived allmoste _entirely on_
bread and water herself. She have often told friend _C._, "Do not leave
Carter want any thing, but speak _to me_." I have often thought that she
would allmoste _tear ou_t her eyes to do me good, and I have often
thought _that she ha_d not the least doubt but what I was built _for a
Catholi_ck. I have thought then, the same as I think _now, that if I_ am
faithfull untel death, and she cont_inued in the sa_me way, that she and
me, with many _more that_ I saw there, shall meet at God's right hand,
where we shall sing louder and sweeter that ever I sung in that gardon.
May the Lord grant it. She was so nice, butifull a young lady as I think
the sun could shine on; I suppose aboute 26 or 27 years old. Her father
was a nobleman of a large income, her mother, a sistar to the great,
rich Bishop of St. Paul's, and him, as I have heard, for all his incom,
could scarsely keep a goode sute of clothes aboute him--it was busy
all[72] for the poor. I think she was the pictar of humility in all her
deportment. I could not help to admire her, as I was in the same house,
or housas, for, as I think, nearly six months.