in New Town, a saddler by profession, who immediately waited on him to the prison; he found it well peopled, and his ears were confused with almost as many dialects as put a stop to the building of Babel. Mr. Carew saluted them, and courteously inquired what countrymen they were: some were from Kilkenny, some Limeric, some Dublin, others of Somerset, Dorset, Devon, and Cornwall; so that he found he had choice enough of companions, and, as he saw he had no remedy but patience, he endeavoured to amuse himself as well as he could.
Looking through the bars one day, he espied a whipping-post and gallows, at which he turned to his companions, and cried out, A fine sight truly this is, my friends! which was a jest many of them could not relish, as they had before tasted of the whipping; looking on the other side, he saw a fine house, and demanding whose it was, they told him it was the assembly-house. While he was thus amusing himself, reflecting on the variety of his fate, fortune was preparing a more agreeable scene for him. A person coming up to the window, asked where the runaway was, who had been brought in that day, Mr. Carew composedly told him he was the man; they then entered into discourse, inquiring of each other of what country they were, and soon found they were pretty near neighbours, the person who addressed him being one out of Dorsetshire. While they were talking, our hero seeing the tops of some vessels riding in the river, inquired what place they belonged to. The man replied, To the west of England, to one Mr. Buck of Biddeford, to whom most of the
town belonged. Our hero’s heart leaped for joy at this good news, and he hastily asked if the captains Kenny, Hervey, Hopkins, and George Bird were there; the man replying in the affirmative, still heightened his satisfaction. Will you have the goodness to be an unfortunate prisoner’s friend, said he to the person he was talking with, and present my humble duty to any of them, but particularly to Captain Hervey, and inform them I am here. The man very civilly replied he would do it; and asked what he should tell them was his name? Carew, replied our hero. Away ran the messenger with great haste, but before he got half way, forgetting the name ran back again to ask it. Tell them my name is Carew, the rat-catcher; away went the man again, repeating all the way, Carew, the rat-catcher, lest he should forget it a second time; and he now executed his message so well, that very soon after came the captains to the gaol door.
Inquiring for Carew, the rat-catcher, as they wanted to speak with him; our hero, who heard them, answered with a tantivy, and a halloo to the dogs; upon which Captain Hervey swore it was Carew, and fell a laughing very heartily, then coming to the window, they very cordially shook hands with him, saying, they should as soon have expected to have seen Sir Robert Walpole there as him. They then inquired by what means he came there; and he informed them circumstantially of every thing as already mentioned. The captains asked him if he would drink a glass of rum, which he accepted of very gladly in his present condition; one of them quickly sent down to
the storehouse for a bottle of rum and a bottle of October, and then they all went into the gaol, and sat down with him.
Thus did he see himself once more surrounded by his friends, so that he scarcely regretted his meeting with the timbermen, as they had brought him into such good company. He was so elevated with his good fortune, that he forgot all his misfortunes, and passed the evening as cheerfully as if he was neither a slave nor a prisoner. The captains inquired if he had been sold to a planter before he made his escape; he replied in the negative, when they informed him, that unless his captain came and demanded him, he would be publicly sold the next court-day. When they took their leaves, they told him they would see him the next morning.
Accordingly they returned very early, and having got admittance into the prison, hailed him with the pleasing sound of liberty, telling him, they had agreed among themselves to purchase him, then give him his release, and furnish him with proper passes; but instead of receiving this joyful news with the transports they expected, our hero stood for some time silent and lost in thought. During this while, he reflected within himself, whether his honour would permit him to purchase his liberty on these terms: and it was indeed no little struggle which passed in his breast on this occasion. On the one side, Liberty, with all her charms, presented herself, and wooed to be accepted, supported by Fear, who set before his eyes all the horrors and cruelties of a severe slavery; on the other side, dame Honour, with a majestic
mein, forbade him, sounding loudly in his ears how it would read in future story, that the ingenious Mr. Carew had no contrivance left to regain his lost liberty, but meanly to purchase it at his friends’ expense. For some time did these passions remain in equipoise; as thou hast often seen the scales of some honest tradesman, before he weighs his commodity; but at length honour preponderated, and liberty and fear flew up and kicked the beam; he therefore told the captains he had the most grateful sense of this instance of their love, but that he could never consent to purchase his freedom at their expense: and therefore desired they would only do him the favour to acquaint Captain Froade of his being there. The captains were quite amazed at this resolution, and used great entreaties to persuade him to alter it, but all in vain; so that at last they were obliged to comply with his earnest request, in writing to Captain Froade.
Captain Froade received with great pleasure the news of his being in custody in New Town, and soon sent round his long-boat, paid all costs and charges, and brought him once more on board his ship. The captain received him with a great deal of malicious satisfaction in his countenance, telling him in a taunting manner, that, though he had promised Sir William Courtney to be at home before him, he should find himself damnably mistaken; and then with a tyrannic tone bade him strip, calling the boatswain to bring up a cat-o’-nine-tails, and tie him fast up to the main geers; accordingly our hero was obliged to undergo a
cruel and shameful punishment. Here, gentle reader, if thou hast not a heart made of something harder than adamant, thou canst not choose but melt at the sufferings of our hero; he, who but just before, did what would have immortalised the name of Cæsar or Alexander, is now rewarded for it with cruel and ignominious stripes, far from his native country, wife, children, or any friends, and still doomed to undergo severe hardships. As soon as the captain had satisfied his revenge, he ordered Mr. Carew on shore, taking him to a blacksmith, whom he desired to make a heavy iron collar for him, which in Maryland they call a pot-hook, and is usually put about the necks of runaway slaves. When it was fastened on, the captain jeeringly cried, Now run away if you can; I will make you help to load this vessel, and then I’ll take care of you, and send you to the ironworks of Susky Hadlam.