A Character of the Province of Maryland / Described in four distinct parts; also a small Treatise on the Wild and Naked Indians (or Susquehanokes) of Maryland, their customs, manners, absurdities, and religion; together with a collection of historical letters.

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,

But just so long to paint this dismal Night;

Then draw thy beams, and hide thy glorious face,

From the dark sable actions of this place;

Leaving these lustful Sodomites groping still,

To satisfie each dark unsatiate will,

Untill at length the crimes that they commit,

May sink them down to Hells Infernal pit.

Base and degenerate Earth, how dost thou lye,

That all that pass hiss, at thy Treachery?

Thou which couldst boast once of thy King and Crown,

By base Mechanicks now art tumbled down,

Brewers and Coblers, that have scarce an Eye,

Walk hand in hand an thy Supremacy;

And all those Courts where Majesty did Throne,

Are now the Seats for Oliver and Ioan: {85}

Persons of Honour, which did before inherit

Their glorious Titles from deserved merit,

Are all grown silent, and with wonder gaze,

To view such Slaves drest in their Courtly rayes;

To see a Drayman that knows nought but Yeast,

Set in a Throne like Babylons red Beast,

While heaps of Parasites do idolize

This red-nos’d Bell, with fawning Sacrifice.

What can we say? our King they’ve Murthered,

And those well born, are basely buried:

Nobles are slain, and Royalists in each street

Are scorn’d, and kick’d by most Men that they meet:

Religion’s banisht, and Heresie survives,

And none but Conventicks in this Age thrives.

Oh could those Romans from their Ashes rise,

That liv’d in Nero’s time: Oh how their cries

Would our perfidious Island shake, nay rend,

With clamorous screaks unto the Heaven send:

Oh how they’d blush to see our Crimson crimes,

And know the Subjects Authors of these times:

When as the Peasant he shall take his King,

And without cause shall fall a murthering him;

And when that’s done, with Pride assume the Chair,

And Nimrod-like, himself to heaven rear;

Command the People, make the Land Obey

His baser will, and swear to what he’l say.

Sure, sure our God has not these evils sent

To please himself, but for mans punishment:

And when he shall from our dark sable Skies

Withdraw these Clouds, and let our Sun arise,

Our dayes will surely then in Glory shine,

Both in our Temporal, and our State divine: {86}

May this come quickly, though I may never see

This glorious day, yet I would sympathie,

And feel a joy run through each vain of blood,

Though Vassalled on t’other side the Floud.

Heavens protect his Sacred Majesty,

From secret Plots, & treacherous Villany.

And that those Slaves that now predominate,

Hang’d and destroy’d may be their best of Fate;

And though Great Charles be distant from his own,

Heaven I hope will seat him on his Throne.

Vale.

Yours what I may,

G. A.

From the Chimney Corner upon a low cricket, where I writ this in the noise of some six Women, Aug. 19. Anno

A Character of the Province of Maryland / Described in four distinct parts; also a small Treatise on the Wild and Naked Indians (or Susquehanokes) of Maryland, their customs, manners, absurdities, and religion; together with a collection of historical letters.

About This Book

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.