William Atkins and his two countrymen, for their ill conduct, as they
had let me know; and they appealed to me for the necessity they were
under to do so; but that William Atkins had behaved himself so bravely
in the great fight they had with the savages, and on several occasions
since, and had shewed himself so faithful to, and concerned for the
general interest of them all, that they had forgotten all that was past,
and thought he merited as much to be trusted with arms, and supplied
with necessaries, as any of them; and that they had testified their
satisfaction in him, by committing the command to him, next to the
governor himself; and as they had an entire confidence in him and all
his countrymen, so they acknowledged they had merited that confidence by
all the methods that honest men could merit to be valued and trusted;
and they most heartily embraced the occasion of giving me this
assurance, that they would never have any interest separate from
one another.
Upon these frank and open declarations of friendship, we appointed the
next day to dine all together, and indeed we made a splendid feast. I
caused the ship’s cook and his mate to come on shore and dress our
dinner, and the old cook’s mate we had on shore assisted. We brought on
shore six pieces of good beef, and four pieces of pork, out of the
ship’s provision, with our punch-bowl, and materials to fill it; and, in
particular, I gave them ten bottles of French claret, and ten bottles of
English beer, things that neither the Spaniards nor the Englishmen had
tasted for many years; and which it may be supposed they were
exceeding glad of.
The Spaniards added to our feast five whole kids, which the cooks
roasted; and three of them were sent, covered up close, on board our
ship to the seamen, that they might feast on fresh meat from on shore,
as we did with their salt meal from on board.
After this feast, at which we were very innocently merry, I brought out
my cargo of goods, wherein, that there might be no dispute about
dividing, I shewed them that there was sufficient for them all; and
desired that they might all take an equal quantity of the goods that
were for wearing; that is to say, equal when made up. As first, I
distributed linen sufficient to make every one of them four shirts; and,
at the Spaniards’ request, afterwards made them up six; these were
exceeding comfortable to them, having been what, as I may say, they had
long since forgot the use of, or what it was to wear them.
I allotted the thin English stuffs, which I mentioned before, to make
every one a light coat like a frock, which I judged fittest for the heat
of the season, cool and loose; and ordered, that whenever they decayed,
they should make more, as they thought fit. The like for pumps, shoes,
stockings, and hats, &c.
I cannot express what pleasure, what satisfaction, sat upon the
countenances of all these poor men when they saw the care I had taken of
them, and how well I had furnished them; they told me I was a father to
them; and that having such a correspondent as I was, in so remote a part
of the world, it would make them forget that they were left in a
desolate place; and they all voluntarily engaged to me not to leave the
place without my consent.
Then I presented to them the people I had brought with me, particularly
the tailor, the smith, and the two carpenters, all of them most
necessary people; but above all, my general artificer, than whom they
could not name any thing that was more needful to them; and the tailor,
to shew his concern for them, went to work immediately, and, with my
leave, made them every one a shirt the first thing he did; and, which
was still more, he taught the women not only how to sew and stitch, and
use the needle, but made them assist to make the shirts for their
husbands and for all the rest.
As for the carpenters, I scarce need mention how useful they were, for
they took in pieces all my clumsy unhandy things, and made them clever
convenient tables, stools, bedsteads, cupboards, lockers, shelves, and
every thing they wanted of that kind.
But to let them see how nature made artificers at first, I carried the
carpenters to see William Atkins’s basket house, as I called it, and
they both owned they never saw an instance of such natural ingenuity
before, nor any thing so regular and so handily built, at least of its
kind; and one of them, when he saw it, after musing a good while,
turning about to me, “I am sure,” says he, “that man has no need of us;
you need do nothing but give him tools.”
Then I brought them out all my store of tools, and gave every man a
digging spade, a shovel, and a rake, for we had no harrows or ploughs;
and to every separate place a pickaxe, a crow, a broadaxe, and a saw;
always appointing, that as often as any were broken, or worn out, they
should be supplied, without grudging, out of the general stores that I
left behind.
Nails, staples, hinges, hammers, chisels, knives, scissors, and all
sorts of tools and iron-work, they had without tale as they required;
for no man would care to take more than he wanted, and he must be a fool
that would waste or spoil them on any account whatever. And for the use
of the smith I left two tons of unwrought iron for a supply.
My magazine of powder and arms which I brought them, was such, even to
profusion, that they could not but rejoice at them; for now they could
march, as I used to do, with a musket upon each shoulder, if there was
occasion; and were able to fight a thousand savages, if they had but
some little advantages of situation, which also they could not miss of
if they had occasion.
I carried on shore with me the young man whose mother was starved to
death, and the maid also: she was a sober, well-educated, religious
young woman, and behaved so inoffensively, that every one gave her a
good word. She had, indeed, an unhappy life with us, there being no
woman in the ship but herself; but she bore it with patience. After a
while, seeing things so well ordered, and in so fine a way of thriving
upon my island, and considering that they had neither business nor
acquaintance in the East Indies, or reason for taking so long a voyage;
I say, considering all this, both of them came to me, and desired I
would give them leave to remain on the island, and be entered among my
family, as they called it.
I agreed to it readily, and they had a little plot of ground allotted to
them, where they had three tents or houses set up, surrounded with a
basket-work, palisaded like Atkins’s, and adjoining to his plantation.
Their tents were contrived so, that they had each of them a room, a part
to lodge in, and a middle tent, like a great storehouse, to lay all
their goods in, and to eat and drink in. And now the other two
Englishmen moved their habitation to the same place, and so the island
was divided into three colonies, and no more; viz. the Spaniards, with
old Friday, and the first servants, at my old habitation under the hill,
which was, in a word, the capital city, and where they had so enlarged
and extended their works, as well under as on the outside of the hill,
that they lived, though perfectly concealed, yet full at large. Never
was there such a little city in a wood, and so hid, I believe, in any
part of the world; for I verily believe a thousand men might have ranged
the island a month, and if they had not known there was such a thing,
and looked on purpose for it, they would not have found it; for the
trees stood so thick and so close, and grew so fast matted into one
another, that nothing but cutting them down first, could discover the
place, except the two narrow entrances where they went in and out, could
be found, which was not very easy. One of them was just down at the
water’s edge, on the side of the creek; and it was afterwards above two
hundred yards to the place; and the other was up the ladder at twice, as
I have already formerly described it; and they had a large wood, thick
planted, also on the top of the hill, which contained above an acre,
which grew apace, and covered the place from all discovery there, with
only one narrow place between two trees, not easy to be discovered, to
enter on that side.
The other colony was that of Will Atkins, where there were four families
of Englishmen, I mean those I had left there, with their wives and
children; three savages that were slaves; the widow and children of the
Englishman that was killed; the young man and the maid; and by the way,
we made a wife of her also before we went away. There were also the two
carpenters and the tailor, whom I brought with me for them; also the
smith, who was a very necessary man to them, especially as the gunsmith,
to take care of their arms; and my other man, whom I called Jack of all
Trades, who was himself as good almost as twenty men, for he was not
only a very ingenious fellow, but a very merry fellow; and before I went
away we married him to the honest maid that came with the youth in the
ship, whom I mentioned before.
And now I speak of marrying, it brings me naturally to say something of
the French ecclesiastic that I had brought with me out of the ship’s
crew whom I took at sea. It is true, this man was a Roman, and perhaps
it may give offence to some hereafter, if I leave any thing
extraordinary upon record of a man, whom, before I begin, I must (to set
him out in just colours) represent in terms very much to his
disadvantage in the account of Protestants; as, first, that he was a
Papist; secondly, a Popish priest; and thirdly, a French Popish priest.
But justice demands of me to give him a due character; and I must say,
he was a grave, sober, pious, and most religious person; exact in his
life, extensive in his charity, and exemplary in almost every thing he
did. What then can any one say against my being very sensible of the
value of such a man, notwithstanding his profession? though it may be my
opinion, perhaps as well as the opinion of others who shall read this,
that he was mistaken.
The first hour that I began to converse with him, after he had agreed to
go with me to the East Indies, I found reason to delight exceedingly in
his conversation; and he first began with me about religion, in the most
obliging manner imaginable.
“Sir,” says he, “you have not only, under God” (and at that he crossed
his breast), “saved my life, but you have admitted me to go this voyage
in your ship, and by your obliging civility have taken me into your
family, giving me an opportunity of free conversation. Now, Sir,” says
he, “you see by my habit what my profession is, and I guess by your
nation what yours is. I may think it is my duty, and doubtless it is so,
to use my utmost endeavours on all occasions to bring all the souls that
I can to the knowledge of the truth, and to embrace the Catholic
doctrine; but as I am here under your permission, and in your family, I
am bound in justice to your kindness, as well as in decency and good
manners, to be under your government; and therefore I shall not, without
your leave, enter into any debates on the points of religion, in which
we may not agree, farther than you shall give me leave.”
I told him his carriage was so modest that I could not but acknowledge
it; that it was true, we were such people as they call heretics, but
that he was not the first Catholic that I had conversed with without
falling into any inconveniencies, or carrying the questions to any
height in debate; that he should not find himself the worse used for
being of a different opinion from us; and if we did not converse without
any dislike on either side, upon that score, it would be his fault,
not ours.
He replied, that he thought our conversation might be easily separated
from disputes; that it was not his business to cap principles with every
man he discoursed with; and that he rather desired me to converse with
him as a _gentleman_ than as a _religieux_; that if I would give him
leave at any time to discourse upon religious subjects, he would readily
comply with it; and that then he did not doubt but I would allow him
also to defend his own opinions as well as he could; but that without my
leave he would not break in upon me with any such thing.
He told me farther, that he would not cease to do all that became him in
his office as a priest, as well as a private Christian, to procure the
good of the ship, and the safety of all that was in her; and though
perhaps we would not join with him, and he could not pray with us, he
hoped he might pray for us, which he would do upon all occasions. In
this manner we conversed; and as he was of a most obliging
gentleman-like behaviour, so he was, if I may be allowed to say so, a
man of good sense, and, as I believe, of great learning.
He gave me a most diverting account of his life, and of the many
extraordinary events of it; of many adventures which had befallen him in
the few years that he had been abroad in the world, and particularly
this was very remarkable; viz. that during the voyage he was now engaged
in he had the misfortune to be five times shipped and unshipped, and
never to go to the place whither any of the ships he was in were at
first designed: that his first intent was to have gone to Martinico, and
that he went on board a ship bound thither at St. Maloes; but being
forced into Lisbon in bad weather, the ship received some damage by
running aground in the mouth of the river Tagus, and was obliged to
unload her cargo there: that finding a Portuguese ship there, bound to
the Madeiras, and ready to sail, and supposing he should easily meet
with a vessel there bound to Martinico, he went on board in order to
sail to the Madeiras; but the master of the Portuguese ship being but an
indifferent mariner, had been out in his reckoning, and they drove to
Fyal; where, however, he happened to find a very good market for his
cargo, which was corn, and therefore resolved not to go to the Madeiras,
but to load salt at the isle of May, to go away to Newfoundland. He had
no remedy in the exigence but to go with the ship, and had a pretty good
voyage as far as the Banks, (so they call the place where they catch the
fish) where meeting with a French ship bound from France to Quebec, in
the river of Canada, and from thence to Martinico, to carry provisions,
he thought he should have an opportunity to complete his first design.
But when he came to Quebec the master of the ship died, and the ship
proceeded no farther. So the next voyage he shipped himself for France,
in the ship that was burnt, when we took them up at sea, and then
shipped them with us for the East Indies, as I have already said. Thus
he had been disappointed in five voyages, all, as I may call it, in one
voyage, besides what I shall have occasion to mention farther of the
same person.
But I shall not make digressions into other men’s stories which have no
relation to my own. I return to what concerns our affair in the island.
He came to me one morning, for he lodged among us all the while we were
upon the island, and it happened to be just when I was going to visit
the Englishmen’s colony at the farthest part of the island; I say, he
came to me, and told me with a very grave countenance, that he had for
two or three days desired an opportunity of some discourse with me,
which he hoped would not be displeasing to me, because he thought it
might in some measure correspond with my general design, which was the
prosperity of my new colony, and perhaps might put it at least more than
he yet thought it was in the way of God’s blessing.
I looked a little surprised at the last part of his discourse, and
turning a little short, “How, Sir,” said I, “can it be said, that we are
not in the way of God’s blessing, after such visible assistances and
wonderful deliverances as we have seen here, and of which I have given
you a large account?”
“If you had pleased, Sir,” said he, with a world of modesty, and yet
with great readiness, “to have heard me, you would have found no room to
have been displeased, much less to think so hard of me, that I should
suggest, that you have not had wonderful assistances and deliverances;
and I hope, on your behalf, that you are in the way of God’s blessing,
and your design is exceeding good, and will prosper. But, Sir,” said he,
“though it were more so than is even possible to you, yet there may be
some among you that are not equally right in their actions; and you know
that in the story of Israel, one Achan, in the camp, removed God’s
blessing from them, and turned his hand so against them, that thirty-six
of them, though not concerned in the crime, were the objects of divine
vengeance, and bore the weight of that punishment.”
I was sensibly touched with this discourse, and told him his inference
was so just, and the whole design seemed so sincere, and was really so
religious in its own nature, that I was very sorry I had interrupted
him, and begged him to go on; and in the meantime, because it seemed
that what we had both to say might take up some time, I told him I was
going to the Englishmens’ plantation, and asked him to go with me, and
we might discourse of it by the way. He told me he would more willingly
wait on me thither, because there, partly, the thing was acted which he
desired to speak to me about. So we walked on, and I pressed him to be
free and plain with me in what he had to say.
“Why then, Sir,” says he, “be pleased to give me leave to lay down a few
propositions as the foundation of what I have to say, that we may not
differ in the general principles, though we may be of some differing
opinions in the practice of particulars. First, Sir, though we differ in
some of the doctrinal articles of religion, and it is very unhappy that
it is so, especially in the case before us, as I shall shew afterwards,
yet there are some general principles in which we both agree; viz.
first, that there is a God, and that this God, having given us some
stated general rules for our service and obedience, we ought not
willingly and knowingly to offend him, either by neglecting to do what
he has commanded, or by doing what he has expressly forbidden; and let
our different religions be what they will, this general principle is
readily owned by us all, that the blessing of God does not ordinarily
follow a presumptuous sinning against his command; and every good
Christian will be affectionately concerned to prevent any that are under
his care, living in a total neglect of God and his commands. It is not
your men being Protestants, whatever my opinion may be of such, that
discharges me from being concerned for their souls, and from
endeavouring, if it lies before me, that they should live in as little
distance from and enmity with their Maker as possible; especially if you
give me leave to meddle so far in your circuit.”
I could not yet imagine, what he aimed at, and told him I granted all
he had said; and thanked him that he would so far concern himself for
us; and begged he would explain the particulars of what he had observed,
that, like Joshua, (to take his own parable) I might put away the
accursed thing from us.
“Why then, Sir,” says he, “I will take the liberty you give me; and
there are three things which, if I am right, must stand in the way of
God’s blessing upon your endeavours here, and which I should rejoice,
for your sake, and their own, to see removed. And, Sir,” says he, “I
promise myself that you will fully agree with me in them all as soon as
I name them; especially because I shall convince you that every one of
them may with great ease, and very much to your satisfaction, be
remedied.”
He gave me no leave to put in any more civilities, but went on: “First,
Sir,” says he, “you have here four Englishmen, who have fetched women
from among the savages, and have taken them as their wives, and have had
many children by them all, and yet are not married to them after any
stated legal manner, as the laws of God and man require; and therefore
are yet, in the sense of both, no less than adulterers, and living in
adultery. To this, Sir,” says he, “I know you will object, that there
was no clergyman or priest of any kind, or of any profession, to perform
the ceremony; nor any pen and ink, or paper, to write down a contract of
marriage, and have it signed between them. And I know also, Sir, what
the Spaniard governor has told you; I mean of the agreement that he
obliged them to make when they took these women, viz. that they should
choose them out by consent, and keep separately to them; which, by the
way, is nothing of a marriage, no agreement with the women as wives, but
only an agreement among themselves, to keep them from quarrelling.
“But, Sir, the essence of the sacrament of matrimony (so he called it,
being a Roman) consists not only in the mutual consent of the parties to
take one another as man and wife, but in the formal and legal
obligation that there is in the contract to compel the man and woman at
all times to own and acknowledge each other; obliging the man to abstain
from all other women, to engage in no other contract while these
subsist; and on all occasions, as ability allows, to provide honestly
for them and their children; and to oblige the women to the same, on
like conditions, _mutatis mutandis_, on their side.
“Now, Sir,” says he, “these men may, when they please, or when occasion
presents, abandon these women, disown their children, leave them to
perish, and take other women and marry them whilst these are living.”
And here he added, with some warmth, “How, Sir, is God honoured in this
unlawful liberty? And how shall a blessing succeed your endeavours in
this place, however good in themselves, and however sincere in your
design, while these men, who at present are your subjects, under your
absolute government and dominion, are allowed by you to live in open
adultery?”
I confess I was struck at the thing itself, but much more with the
convincing arguments he supported it with. For it was certainly true,
that though they had no clergyman on the spot, yet a formal contract on
both sides, made before witnesses, and confirmed by any token which they
had all agreed to be bound by, though it had been but the breaking a
stick between them, engaging the men to own these women for their wives
upon all occasions, and never to abandon them or their children, and the
women to the same with their husbands, had been an effectual lawful
marriage in the sight of God, and it was a great neglect that it was
not done.
But I thought to have gotten off with my young priest by telling him,
that all that part was done when I was not here; and they had lived so
many years with them now, that if it was adultery it was past remedy,
they could do nothing in it now.
“Sir,” says he, “asking your pardon for such freedom, you are right in
this; that it being done in your absence, you could not be charged with
that part of the crime. But I beseech you, matter not yourself that you
are not therefore under an obligation to do your uttermost now to put an
end to it. How can you think, but that, let the time past lie on whom it
will, all the guilt for the future will lie entirely upon you? Because
it is certainly in your power now to put an end to it, and in nobody’s
power but yours.”
I was so dull still, that I did not take him right, but I imagined that
by putting an end to it he meant that I should part them, and not suffer
them to live together any longer; and I said to him I could not do that
by any means, for that it would put the whole island in confusion. He
seemed surprised that I should so far mistake him. “No, Sir,” says he,
“I do not mean that you should separate them, but legally and
effectually marry them now. And, Sir, as my way of marrying may not be
so easy to reconcile them to, though it will be as effectual even by
your own laws; so your way may be as well before God, and as valid among
men; I mean by a written contract signed by both man and woman, and by
all the witnesses present; which all the laws of Europe would decree to
be valid.”
I was amazed to see so much true piety, and so much sincerity of zeal,
besides the unusual impartiality in his discourse, as to his own party
or church, and such a true warmth for the preserving people that he had
no knowledge of or relation to; I say, for preserving them from
transgressing the laws of God; the like of which I had indeed not met
with any where. But recollecting what he had said of marrying them by a
written contract, which I knew would stand too, I returned it back upon
him, and told him I granted all that he had said to be just, and on his
part very kind; that I would discourse with the men upon the point now
when I came to them. And I knew no reason why they should scruple to let
him marry them all; which I knew well enough would be granted to be as
authentic and valid in England as if they were married by one of our own
clergymen. What was afterwards done in this matter I shall speak of
by itself.