About November the best Hunters draw off to several remote places of the Woods, where they know the Deer, Bear, and Elke useth; there they build them several Cottages, which they call their Winter-quarter, where they remain for the space of three months, untill they have killed up a sufficiency of Provisions to supply their Families with in the Summer.
The Women are the Butchers, Cooks, and Tillers of the ground, the Men think it below the honour of {80} a Masculine, to stoop to any thing but that which their Gun, or Bow and Arrows can command. The Men kill the several Beasts which they meet withall in the Woods, and the Women are the Pack horses to fetch it in upon their backs, fleying and dressing the hydes, (as well as the flesh for provision) to make them fit for Trading, and which are brought down to the English at several seasons in the year, to truck and dispose of them for course Blankets, Guns, Powder and lead, Beads, small Looking-glasses, Knives, and Razors. (See note No. [57]).
I never observed all the while I was amongst these naked Indians, that ever the Women wore the Breeches, or dared either in look or action predominate over the Men. They are very constant to their Wives; and let this be spoken to their Heathenish praise, that did they not alter their bodies by their dyings, paintings, and cutting themselves, marring those Excellencies that Nature bestowed upon them in their original conceptions and birth, there would be as amiable beauties amongst them, as any Alexandria could afford, when Mark Anthony and Cleopatra dwelt there together. Their Marriages are short and authentique; for after ’tis resolv’d upon by both parties, the Woman sends her intended Husband a Kettle of boyl’d Venison, or Bear; and he returns in lieu thereof Beaver or Otters Skins, and so their Nuptial Rites are concluded without other Ceremony. (See note No. [58]) {81}
Before I bring my Heathenish Story to a period, I have one thing worthy your observation: For as our Grammar Rules have it, Non decet quenquam me ire currentem aut mandantem: It doth not become any man to piss running or eating. These Pagan men naturally observe the same Rule; for they are so far from running, that like a Hare, they squat to the ground as low as they can, while the Women stand bolt upright with their armes a Kimbo, performing the same action, in so confident and obscene a posture (see note No. [59]) as if they had taken their Degrees of Entrance at Venice, and commenced Bawds of Art at Legorne.
A Collection of some Letters that were written by the same Author, most of them in the time of his Servitude.
To my much Honored Friend Mr. T. B.
SIR,
I Have lived with sorrow to see the Anointed of the Lord tore from his Throne by the hands of Paricides, and in contempt haled, in the view of God, Angels and Men, upon a public Theatre, and there murthered. I have seen the sacred Temple of the Almighty, in scorn by Schismatics made the Receptacle of Theeves and Robbers; and those Religious Prayers, that in devotion Evening and Morning were offered up as a Sacrifice to our God, rent by Sacrilegious hands, and made no other use of, then sold to Brothel-houses to light Tobacco with.
Who then can stay, or will, to see things of so great weight steer’d by such barbarous Hounds as these: First, were there an Egypt to go down to, I would involve my Liberty to them, upon condition ne’er more to see my Country. What? live in silence under the sway of such base actions, is to give consent; and though the lowness of my present Estate and Condition, with the hazard I put my future dayes upon, might plead a just excuse for me to stay at home; but Heavens forbid: I’le rather serve in {84} Chains, and draw the Plough with Animals, till death shall stop and say, It is enough. Sir, if you stay behind, I wish you well: I am bound for Mary-Land, this day I have made some entrance into my intended voyage, and when I have done more, you shall know of it. I have here inclosed what you of me desired, but truly trouble, discontent and business, have so amazed my senses, that what to write, or where to write, I conceive my self almost as uncapable as he that never did write. What you’le find will be Ex tempore, without the use of premeditation; and though there may want something of a flourishing stile to dress them forth, yet I’m certain there wants nothing of truth, will, and desire.
Heavens bright Lamp, shine forth some of thy Light,