Kabanata Kabanata 64 · 第64章

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the coast of Virginia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

certificate of discharge, and an acknowledgment of having served him

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

would.

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

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

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

present of twenty guineas besides, with which he was abundantly

satisfied.

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

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

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

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

we altered our minds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

her circumstances in England, which were bad enough, the

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

short, examining further into things, it appeared past all

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

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

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

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

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

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

since.”