man-of-war up the Baltic; it will not, therefore, be improper here to
relate the occasion of that voyage, which was as follows:--He and his
friend, Coleman, being at Plymouth, and appearing to be able-bodied men,
some officers seeing them there, thought them extremely fit to serve his
majesty, therefore obliged them to go on board the Dunkirk man-of-war:
but they not liking this, Coleman pricked himself upon the wrists,
between his fingers, and other joints, and inflamed it so with gunpowder,
that every one thought it to be the itch; he was therefore carried
ashore, and put into the hospital, from whence he soon made his escape.
Mr. Carew tried the stragem, but too late; for the Lively and Success
men-of-war now arriving from Ireland with impressed men, they were all of
them carried immediately (together with the impressed men lying at
Plymouth) to the grand fleet, then lying at Spithead; they were first put
on board the Bredau, Admiral Hosier, to choose whom he liked of them: and
their names being called over, the Irishmen were all refused; which Mr.
Carew seeing declared himself, in a true Irish brogue, to be a poor Irish
weaver, and disabled in one arm, whereupon he was also refused: the
Irish, among whom he was now ranked, were carried from ship to ship, and
none would accept of them, which made them all expect to be discharged;
but they were disappointed in their hopes, for they were put on board the
Yarmouth, Captain O'Brien, being one of the squadron destined for the
Baltic. Mr. Carew finding Captain O'Brien refused no Irishmen, when he
came to be examined changed his note, and declared himself to be an
Englishman, but crippled in one arm: however, the captain accepted of
him, and putting a sword in his hand, made him stand sentry at the bitts,
which easy post he liked very well; and during all the time he was on
board, every one supposed him really disabled in his arm.
The fleet, sailing from Spithead with a fair wind, anchored safely at
Copenhagen, and then the king of Denmark came on board Sir Charles Wager:
the moment he set his foot on board, both the flag-ships were covered
with an infinite number of colours of every hue, which, waving in the
wind, made a most gallant sight: upon his departure, the colours were all
taken down in an instant, and every ship fired eighteen or twenty guns.
Sailing from Copenhagen, they anchored next in Elson Cape, in Sweden;
from hence they sailed to Revel, in a line of battle, in form of a
rainbow, and anchored there: the sick men were carried ashore to Aragan
island, which Mr. Carew observing, and burning with love to revisit his
native country, counterfeited sickness, and was accordingly carried
ashore to this island, which lies near Revel, belonging to the
Muscovites, from whence boats came every day to fetch wood. He prevailed
upon an Englishman, who was a boatswain to one of the Czarina's
men-of-war, to give him a passage in his boat from that island to Revel
town; when he came there, the boatswain used great endeavours to persuade
him to enter her majesty's service, but it was all in vain, being
resolved to return to his beloved country; the boatswain, therefore,
having entertained him a day and a night at his house, gave him, at his
departure, a piece of money, and engaged several Englishmen of his
acquaintance to do the same; he likewise furnished him with a bag of
provisions, a bottle of excellent brandy, a tinder-box, and a few lines
wrote in that country language, which he was to show to those he met, to
inform him of the road he was to go; and then conducted him out of the
town. That night he took up his lodgings in the woods, and, by the help
of his tinder-box, made a large fire all round him, to secure himself
from any visits from the wild beasts, then broiled a piece of flesh,
drank a dram, and rested very quietly till morning, it being the middle
of summer.
The whole country here is wild, full of large woods and uninhabited
deserts, the towns and villages lying very thin. In the morning, finding
his way out of the woods, he espied a lonely hut, to which he made up,
and making signs of hunger and thirst, they gave him some rusk bread and
cabereta, or goat's flesh, to eat, and some goat's milk to drink, which
is the usual fare amongst those people, who are most of them Lutherans by
religion, and lead very sober lives; of some of them he got small bits of
money, which they call campekes, and are of silver, something larger than
a barley-corn, being of a penny value; he likewise frequently got drams
of excellent brandy amongst them, and his shoes being worn-out by
travelling, they gave him a pair of good wooden ones, which sat very
awkwardly on his English feet.
After six or seven days' travel through this wild country he came to
Riga, a large town and famous sea-port: here he met with many English
merchants and commanders of vessels, who were very kind to him; he
tarried two days in Riga, to rest and refresh himself: during which the
English merchants and commanders provided lodgings and other
accommodations for him, collecting upwards of fifty shillings for him.
Having expressed his utmost gratitude towards his good benefactors, he
again pursued his journey, subsisting himself sometimes on the charity of
the inhabitants of the country, and at other times milking the cows upon
the mountains or in the woods. The next place of note he arrived at was
the city of Dantzic, in the kingdom of Poland: here he found a great
number of English merchants who traded to Exeter, and Bristol, and had
many correspondents living in those places, several of whom Mr. Carew
being acquainted with, he gave a particular account of.
Having been entertained here very hospitably for several days, he set out
again, having first received some handsome presents from the English
merchants. From Dantzic he got a passage on board an English brigantine
bound for Copenhagen, but through stress of weather was obliged to put
into Elson Cape, where he went on shore, and travelled by land to
Stockholm, the capital of Sweden, but in his road thither he lost his way
in this wild and desert country, and for the space of three days and
nights saw neither house, hut, nor human creature, the weather being very
thick and foggy. Nothing could be more melancholy and dreadful than
these three days' travel; his provisions were exhausted, and every step
he took he was uncertain whether it might lead him farther into the
woods, as he could make no observation how the country lay, the fog
intercepting the light of every thing. Sometimes fancy would paint to
him a hut through the fog at a little distance, to which he would direct
his steps with eager haste, but when he came nearer, found it nothing but
an illusion of sight, which almost drove him to despair. The fourth day
he was exceedingly hungry, when, to his great joy, he espied two
she-goats fastened together with ropes of straw: he ran to them with
great eagerness, and drunk very heartily of their milk; after this he
began to consider that there must be some hut at least hard by, as the
goats could not have strayed in that manner any great distance; he
therefore resolved to stay upon the spot for some time; and soon after
the fog clearing up, he espied a hut just before him, to which he
directly repaired, and there got a belly-full of their homely fare, and
directions to find his way to Stockholm.
The religion of this country being chiefly Lutheran, he passed for the
son of a presbyterian parson, and his name Slowly, pretending to have
been cast away in a vessel bound for Revel. The Lutherans at Stockholm
were exceedingly kind to him and raised a handsome contribution for him.
He likewise chanced there to meet with a relation of Dr. Bredaw, a Swiss
gentleman, that resided at Dartmouth, in Devonshire, who asked several
questions about him; and as Mr. Carew was well acquainted with him, he
gave very satisfactory answers, upon which account that gentleman gave
him a guinea, a great fur cap, a coat, and a fine dog, with a letter to
carry to his relation at Dartmouth.
From Stockholm he went to Charles-town, and after a short stay there
continued his journey to Copenhagen, the metropolis of Denmark; here he
met with one Captain Thomas Giles, of Minehead in Somersetshire, who knew
him, and was surprised to see him in that part of the world, and not only
liberally relieved him himself, but recommended him to several English
commanders there, and also to several inhabitants of the city. From
Copenhagen he went to Elsinburgh, thence to Elsinore, where he got a
passage for England, and once more arrived in his native country.
Landing at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, he visited his wife's relations, and then
set forward for Devonshire, travelling all the way in the character of a
shipwrecked seaman. Meeting at Exeter with his beloved wife, and
likewise with his friend Coleman and his wife, they travelled together
for some time, during which Coleman's wife was delivered of a daughter;
but as they found so helpless an infant a great hindrance to their
travelling, Mr. Carew contrived a stratagem to get rid of it, and at the
same time advanced the fortune of the child.
There was in the town, where they then were, a gay bachelor, who lived
with his mother and sisters, and was a great admirer of that order of
female travellers called Cousin Betties. Coleman's wife had been with
him some months before in that character, was very well entertained, and,
amongst other favours, received a present of a silk handkerchief. They
therefore dressed up the babe very neatly, wrapped it up exceeding warm,
and put it in a hand-basket, taking care to put in the handkerchief
Coleman's wife had received from this gay bachelor; then getting a large
boar cat, in the dusk of the evening they tied it to the knocker of the
door, setting down before it the basket with the helpless infant. The
cat, not liking the treatment, made a hideous squalling, and with his
struggling, rap, rap, rap, went the knocker of the door; out ran the
gentleman, with his mother, sisters, and servants, and the neighbourhood
gathered about the door to see what this noise could mean. Mr. Carew and
Coleman mingled among them to learn what would be the event of their
stratagem. The cat, by long struggling, got free of the knocker, and ran
away, only leaving part of the tail behind. The basket alone now engaged
the attention of every one, and being delivered to the gentleman to open,
the feeble cries of an infant soon reached their ears. The mother and
sisters, alarmed at this unexpected salutation, snatched the basket from
him, and upon the child's breast found a note in these words:
"Remember, sir, where you last met me, you have not been so kind as
you often promised and swore you would: however, it justly belongs to
you. I have made bold to send you the fruits of our meeting, and
this handkerchief which you made me as a token. Be kind to our
infant daughter; and the unfortunate mother on her part, will forgive
you.
"Your's, &c."
The horrid squalling of the cat did not grate so disagreeably upon the
gentleman's ears, as the reading of these words; so that his hat and wig
were flung off, and he ran about stamping and swearing that the child was
none of his, neither did he know any thing of the mother. On the other
hand, his mother and sisters flew into a violent rage, assailing his ears
on every side with reproaches; so that he would at that time have thought
deafness preferable to any one of the senses. "Dost thou deny the child
to be thine?" cried the mother: "has it not thy very eyes, nose, and
mouth? and is this not thy very handkerchief? this thou canst not deny,
for I can safely swear it was thine." The poor gentleman, thus beset on
all sides, was obliged to quit the field; the child was taken into the
house, and brought up and educated there, and is at this day a very
accomplished fine lady.
Some time after this adventure, Mr. Carew took passage at Folkstone, in
Kent, for Boulogne in France, where he arrived safe, and proceeded to
Paris and other cities in that kingdom. His habit was now tolerably
good, his countenance grave, his behaviour sober and decent, pretending
to be a Roman-catholic, who left England, his native country, out of an
ardent zeal of spending his days in the bosom of the catholic church.
This story readily gained belief; his zeal was universally applauded, and
handsome contributions made for him; but at the same time he was so
zealous a Roman-catholic, with a little change of habit, he used to
address those English he heard of in any place as a protestant
shipwrecked seaman. He had the good fortune, in this character, to meet
an English physician at Paris, to whom he told his deplorable tale, who
was so much affected by it, that he not only relieved him very
handsomely, but, what was more, recommended him to that noble pattern of
unexhausted benevolence, Mrs. Horner, who was on her travels, from whom
he received ten guineas, and from some other company with her, five more.
Here, reader, if thou hast a good heart, we cannot entertain thee better,
than by drawing a true though faint picture of this generous lady; for,
were benevolence and generosity real beings, we are persuaded they would
act just like her; with such an unsparing hand would they bestow their
bounties, and with such magnificence reward desert; with such godlike
compassion cheer the afflicted, and just so make happy all around them:
but thou canst form no adequate idea, unless thou hast been in the
neighbourhood of that noble mansion, the seat of Mrs. Horner, at
Mulberry, Dorsetshire, where benevolence has fixed her seat. Permit me,
therefore, to transport thee thither, to bless thy sight with the
delightful scene. See, already, the parish church, rebuilt at her
expense, strikes the eye; it is she that has erected it to the honour of
her God. Thou art surprised, I see, to behold an eminent physician, who
is allowed a constant salary by her to visit the poor sick in her
neighbourhood, coming out of his chariot to enter the wretched huts of
poverty; but know, she has already paid his fees: see here another
compounding the choicest drugs and medicines for a whole neighbourhood;
it is her bounty that has supplied them. Cast your eye the other way,
and behold that company of aged and decrepid poor; they are going to
receive their daily bread at her table. But let us enter the poor
cottage; see, here are the holy Scriptures and other books of pious
instruction; and, hark! the lisping child is reading distinctly in one of
them; her munificence has bestowed these useful gifts, and instilled
instruction into that tender mind. Behold, with how dejected a look and
grief-swollen heart, with what a load of care, yon person enters the
mansion: but see, he returns--how changed his aspect! joy sparkles in his
eye, and thankfulness swells his exulting heart; content sits cheerful
upon his brow, and he no longer bends under his care: what wonderful
magic has wrought this sudden change?--the opening only of her beneficent
hand has done it.
What we are now going to relate will raise an honest indignation in the
breast of every true lover of liberty; for all such know that the
beauteous flower of liberty sickens to the very root (like the sensitive
plant) at the lightest touch of the iron hand of power upon any one of
its most distant branches.
Mr. Carew being in the city of Exeter with his wife, and, having visited
his old friends there, he walked to Topsham, about three miles distant,
leaving his wife in Exeter. Alas! little did he think this walk would
end in a long and cruel separation from his friends and country; little
did he imagine, that, in the land of freedom and justice, he should be
seized upon by the cruel grasp of lawless power: though poor, he thought
himself under the protection of the laws, and, as such, liable to no
punishment till they inflicted it. How far he thought right in this, let
the sequel tell. Going down to Topsham, and walking upon the quay there,
enjoying the beauties of a fine evening, meditating no harm, and
suspecting no danger, he was accosted by merchant D---y, accompanied with
several captains of vessels, in some such words as these: Ha! Mr. Carew,
you are come in a right time! As you came home for your own pleasure you
shall go over for mine. They then laid hands on him, who found it in
vain to resist, as he was overpowered by numbers; he therefore desired to
be carried before some magistrate, but this was not hearkened to, for
they forced him on board a boat, without the presence or authority of any
officer of justice, not so much as suffering him to take leave of his
wife, or acquaint her with his misfortune, though he begged the favour
almost with tears. The boat carried him on board the Phillory, Captain
Simmonds, bound for America with convicts, which then lay at
Powderham-castle waiting for a fair wind. Here, had my pen gall enough,
I would put a blot of eternal infamy on that citizen of liberty, who
usurped so much power over a fellow-citizen, and those who suffered a
brother of liberty, however undeserving, to be dragged to slavery by the
lawless hand of power, without the mandate of sovereign justice. Foolish
wretch! dost thou not know that thou oughtest to be more careful of
keeping all usurping power within its bounds, than thou wouldst the
raging sea ready to overflow and overwhelm them all; for thou who hast
consented to see power oppress a fellow-heir of glorious liberty, how
canst thou complain, if its all-grasping iron hand should seize upon
thyself, or whatever thou holdest most dear? then wouldst thou, too late,
bewail that thou hadst ever suffered power wantonly to set foot on the
neck of liberty.
But to return: Mr. Carew was no sooner put on board, than he was strictly
searched, and then taken between decks, where he was ironed down with the
convicts. There was at the same time a violent fever raging among them,
and Mr. Carew, by being chained with them night and day, was soon
infected, and taken very ill; however, he had not the liberty of sending
to his wife, nor any of his friends, though they lay three weeks in the
roads for a fair wind. In the mean time, his wife, not hearing any thing
from him, and uncertain what was become of him, or whether he was alive
or dead, abandoned herself to an excess of grief, for he had always been
a kind and affectionate husband to her; she therefore sought him up and
down, at all the houses of his usual resort, but in vain, for no news
could she gain of her beloved husband.
The wind coming fair, they hoisted sail, and soon bid adieu to the
English coasts. We need not describe what passed in Mr. Carew's breast
at this time; anger and grief prevailed by turns, sometimes resentment,
for being thus treated, fired his bosom, and he vowed revenge: at other
times the thoughts of his being thus unexpectedly separated from his
country and friends, and doomed to an ignominious slavery, filled him
with sad and melancholy reflections; however, he had the pleasure, before
it was long, of knowing he was not entirely deserted; for Captain
Simmonds, the commander of the Phillory, a humane compassionate man, came
down to him between decks, soon after they were under sail, and bid him
be of good cheer, for he should want for nothing; and though he had
strict orders from merchant D---y never to let him return, yet he would
be a friend to him, and provide for him in the best manner he could. Mr.
Carew returned thanks to his generous and unexpected benefactor in as
handsome a manner as he was able.
Soon after this, he had liberty allowed him of coming upon deck, where
the captain entered into conversation with him, and jocosely asked if he
thought he could be at home before him. He generously replied he thought
he could, at least he would endeavour to be so; which the captain took
all in good part.
Thus did Mr. Carew spend his time, in as agreeable a manner as could be
expected under his present circumstances: but, alas! all our happiness is
too fleeting, and we scarcely taste the pleasure before it is ravished
from us: and thus it happened to our hero; for they had scarcely been
under sail five weeks before the good Captain Simmonds was taken ill,
which increased every day with too many fatal symptoms; till at last
death, who regards alike the good and virtuous, and the bad and vicious,
struck the fatal blow: but the approaches of the grisly tyrant were not
so dreadful to this man, as the distress it would occasion to his wife
and family, whom he cried out for during his whole illness. Mr. Carew
bewailed the loss of this generous benefactor with more than outward
sorrow. Every thing in the vessel was now in confusion by the death of
the captain; at length the mate, one Harrison of Newcastle, took charge
of the vessel and the captain's effects; but had not enjoyed his new
honours before he was taken dangerously ill, so that the vessel was
obliged to be left to the care of the common sailors, and was several
times in great danger of being lost. At last, after sixteen weeks
passage, in the grey of the morning, they made Cape Charles, and then
bore away to Cape Henry: at Hampton they took in a pilot. The vessel
having several times run upon the sand, and was not got off again without
great difficulty; the pilot soon after brought them to Kent-island, where
they fired a gun, and Harrison, who was now recovered, went on shore,
near Annapolis, and made a bargain with one Mr. Delany of that place, for
Mr. Carew, as an expert gardener. He was then sent on shore, and Mr.
Delany asked him if he understood gardening. Being willing to get out of
Harrison's hands, he replied in the affirmative; but Mr. Delany asking
him if he could mow, he replied in the negative. Then you are no
gardener, replied Mr. Delany, and so refused to buy him. Then one
Hilldrop, who had been transported about three years before from Exeter,
for horse stealing, and had married a currier's widow in Annapolis, had a
mind to purchase him, but they could not agree about the price, whereupon
he was put on board again, and they sailed from Miles-river.
Here they fired a gun, and the captain went on shore; in the mean time
the men prisoners were ordered to be close shaved, and the women to have
clean caps on: this was scarcely done, before an overseer belonging to
Mr. Bennet, in Way-river, and several planters, came up to buy. The
prisoners were all ordered upon deck, and Mr. Carew among them: some of
the planters knew him again, and cried out, "Is not this the man Captain
Froade brought over, and put a pot-hook upon?" Yes, replies Mr.
Harrison, the very same: at which they were much surprised, having an
account he had been either killed by the wild beasts or drowned in some
river. Ay, ay, replied Harrison with a great oath, I'll take care he
shall not be at home before me. By this time several of the prisoners
were sold, the bowl went merrily round, and many of the planters gave Mr.
Carew a glass, but none of them chose to buy him.
During this, Mr. Carew, observing a great many canoes and small boats
lying along-side the vessel, thought it not impossible to make himself
master of one them, and by that means reach the shore, where he supposed
he might conceal himself till he found an opportunity of getting off;
though this was a very hazardous attempt, and, if unsuccessful, would
expose him to a great deal of hard usage, and probably put it out of his
power of ever regaining his liberty, yet he was resolved to venture. He
now recollected the common maxim, that 'fortune favours the bold,' and
therefore took an opportunity, just as it grew dark, of slipping nimbly
down the ship's side into one of the canoes, which he paddled with as
much silence and expedition as possible towards the shore: but he had not
gone far before the noise he made gave the alarm, that one of the
prisoners had escaped. Harrison immediately called out to inquire which
of them, and where Carew was; and, being told that he was gone off, swore
that he would much rather have lost half of the prisoners than him.
All hands were then called upon to pursue; the captain and planters left
their bowl; the river was soon covered with canoes, and every thing was
in confusion. Mr. Carew was within hearing of this, but, by plying his
canoe well, had the good fortune to get on shore before any of them; he
immediately took himself to the woods as soon as he landed, and climbed
up into a great tree, where he had not been many minutes before he heard
the captain, sailors, and planters, all in pursuit of him; the captain
fretted and stormed, the sailors d---d their blood, and the planters
endeavoured to pacify every thing, by telling the captain not to fear his
getting off. He heard all this, though not unmoved, yet without taking
notice of it: at last, finding their search fruitless, the captain,
sailors, and planters returned; the planters still assuring the captain
they would have him in the morning.