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    Transcriber's Note:

    Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
    possible. The Cornish dialect written by Captain Carter includes
    inconsistencies in spelling and capitalisation. Some changes have
    been made. They are listed at the end of the text.

    Blank spaces, representing missing words in the original MS., have
    been replaced by "[...]".

    Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.

    Text marked ^{thus} was superscripted.




[Illustration]




A CORNISH SMUGGLER


[Illustration: LANDING THE CARGO.

_F. BRANGWYN._]




 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY
 OF
 A CORNISH SMUGGLER


 (CAPTAIN HARRY CARTER, OF PRUSSIA COVE)

 1749-1809

 _WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES_

 BY
 JOHN B. CORNISH

 SECOND EDITION.

 London:
 GIBBINGS & CO., LTD., 18 BURY STREET, W.C.
 J. POLLARD, TRURO, PENZANCE, & FALMOUTH.
 1900.

 WILLIAM BYLES AND SONS, PRINTERS,
 129 FLEET STREET, LONDON,
 AND BRADFORD.




INTRODUCTION.


The existence of the Autobiography which is published in the following
pages came to my knowledge in the course of a chance conversation with a
distant relative of the writer's family. The original manuscript has
been carefully preserved, and has been for many years in the possession
of Mr. G. H. Carter, of Helston. He received it from his father, the G.
Carter mentioned on page 1, who was a nephew of Harry Carter himself.
The memoir of the writer, which will be found in the "Wesleyan Methodist
Magazine" for October, 1831, was based upon information supplied by G.
Carter, partly from the manuscript and partly from his own knowledge. It
is now printed from the manuscript which was kindly lent to me for the
purpose by Mr. G. H. Carter.

The part of Cornwall to which the autobiography chiefly relates is the
district lying between the two small towns of Marazion and Helston, a
distance of about ten miles on the north-eastern shores of Mounts Bay,
comprising the parishes of Breage, Germoe, St. Hilary, and Perranuthnoe.
The bay is practically divided into two parts by Cuddan Point, a sharp
small headland about two miles east from St. Michael's Mount. The
western part runs into the land in a roughly semicircular shape, and is
so well sheltered that it has almost the appearance of a lake, in fact,
the extreme north-western corner is called Gwavas Lake. From the hills
which surround it the land everywhere <DW72>s gently to the sea, and is
thickly inhabited. The towns of Penzance and Marazion and the important
fishing village of Newlyn occupy a large portion of the shore, and
around them are woody valleys and well cultivated fields. To the
eastward of Cuddan is a marked contrast. There, steep and rocky cliffs
are only broken by two long stretches of beach, Pra Sand and the Looe
Bar, on which the great seas which come always from the Atlantic make
landing impossible except on a few rare summer days. With the exception
of the little fishing station of Porthleven there is not a place all
along the coast from Cuddan Point to the Lizard large enough to be
called a village. Inland the country is in keeping with the character
of the coast. Trees are very scarce, and the stone hedges, so
characteristic of all the wild parts of West Cornwall, the patches of
moorland, and the scattered cottages, make the whole appearance bare and
exposed.

Porth Leah, or the King's Cove, now more usually known as Prussia
Cove,[1] around which so much of the interest of the narrative centres,
lies a little to the eastward of Cuddan Point. There are really two
coves divided from one another by a point and a small island called the
"Enez." The western cove, generally called "Bessie's Cove," is a most
sheltered and secluded place. It is so well hidden from the land that it
is impossible to see what boats are lying in the little harbour until
one comes down to the very edge of the cliff. The eastern side of the
point, where there is another small harbour called the "King's Cove," is
more open, but the whole place is thoroughly out of the world even now.

The high road from Helston through Marazion to Penzance now passes about
a mile from the sea, but at the time of which Harry Carter was writing
this district must have been unknown and almost inaccessible. From all
accounts West Cornwall at that time was very little more than half
civilised. The mother of Sir Humphry Davy (born at Penzance, 1778) has
left us a record that when she was a girl "West Cornwall was without
roads, there was only one cart in the town of Penzance, and packhorses
were in use in all the country districts" (Bottrell, iii. 150). This is
confirmed by a writer in the "Gentleman's Magazine," who says that in
1754 there were no roads in this district, the ways that served the
purpose were merely bridle paths "remaining as the deluge left them and
dangerous to travel over" ("Gentleman's Magazine," October, 1754); and
by the official records of the town of Penzance, which show that in 1760
the Corporation went to some expense in opposing the extension of the
turnpike beyond Marazion, to which place it was then first carried from
Penryn (Millett's "Penzance, Past and Present").

The places of which the names are mentioned in the autobiography, but
which are not shown in the map, such as Rudgeon, Trevean, Caerlean,
Pengersick, Kenneggey, and Rinsey, are all in the immediate
neighbourhood of Prussia Cove. They are merely little hamlets of four
or five cottages each, and there is no reason to suppose that they were
any larger one hundred years ago. Helston, the market town of the
district, is about six miles off, and had then a population of some two
thousand people.

The chief interest in the autobiography is probably that which it
attracts as the most authentic account of the smuggling which was
carried on in the neighbourhood in the latter portion of the last
century. Cornwall has long enjoyed a certain reputation for pre-eminence
in this particular form of trade, and apparently not without some
reason. A series of letters of the years 1750-1753 were published some
years ago in the journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall (vol. vi.
pt. xxii. p. 374, "The Lanisley Letters") to a Lieutenant-General
Onslow, from George Borlase, his agent at Penzance, asking that soldiers
might be stationed in the district, because "the coasts here swarm with
smugglers," and mentioning that a detachment ought to be stationed at
Helston, as "just on that neighbourhood lye the smugglers and wreckers
more than about us, tho' there are too many in all parts of this
country." In his "Natural History of Cornwall," published in 1758, Dr.
Borlase regrets (p. 312) that "the people of the sea coast are, it must
be owned, too much addicted to carry off our bullion to France and to
bring back nothing but brandy, tea, and other luxuries." This is
delicate, but there can be no doubt of his meaning; and he goes on to
complain that "there is not the poorest family in any parish which has
not its tea, its snuff, and tobacco, and (when they have money or
credit) brandy," all, we may presume, duty free. The will of Philip
Hawkins, M.P. for Grampound, who died on September 6, 1738, is perhaps
the most striking record, for he actually bequeathed L600 to the king to
compensate for the amount of which his tenants had defrauded the
Customs.

That the smuggling prevailed to such an extent is not to be wondered at,
for the law must have had but a very slight hold on such a rough and
scattered population, living so far away from any of the large centres
of England. In such a narrow country too, where no one lives very far
from the sea, the miners took to smuggling as readily as the fishermen.
A trip to Roscoff or Guernsey formed a pleasant change after a spell on
tribute underground or working stamps. A rough, reckless, and drunken
lot were these tinners, and if riots and bloodshed were more scarce in
West Cornwall than in some parts, it must have been due to the judicious
absence of the Custom House officials, and not to any qualities in the
smugglers. George Borlase says ("Lanisley Letters") that in December
1750 a Dutch ship laden with claret was wrecked near Helston, and "in
twenty-four hours the tinners cleared all," the authorities apparently
not daring to interfere; and that just before this date a man who went
to the assistance of the revenue officers had been killed near the same
place.

Beyond these I have mentioned, the literary records are very meagre, but
the whole county, and especially the western part, abounds with
legends. The smuggling was so universal, that every cove, and fishing
village on the coast has its own stories, and everywhere the curious
visitor is still shown the place where the smugglers landed their
cargoes, the secret caves where they stored them, and sometimes, but not
often, the places where the "officers" found them. Prussia Cove, beyond
all others, has the richest store of such history. Here are little
harbours cut out of the solid rock, which are now occupied by innocent
fishing boats. The visitor can see a roadway partly cut and partly worn
crossing the rocks below high water mark, and caves of which the mouths
have been built up, and which are reputed to be connected with the house
on the cliff above by secret passages.

In the legends of the Cove the personality of John Carter looms so large
that his associates are almost if not entirely forgotten, and everything
centres around him alone. It was he who cut the harbours and the road,
it was he who adapted the caves, and he is the hero of most of the
tales which are told of the good old days. One of these stories is worth
recording. On one occasion, during his absence from home, the excise
officers from Penzance came around in their boats and took a cargo,
which had lately arrived from France, to Penzance, where it was secured
in the Custom House store. In due course John Carter returned to the
Cove, and learned the news. What was he to do? He explained to his
comrades that he had agreed to deliver that cargo to the customers by a
certain day, and his reputation as an honest man was at stake. He must
keep his word. That night a number of armed men broke open the stores at
Penzance, and the "King of Prussia" took his own again, returning to the
Cove without being discovered. In the morning the officers found that
the place had been broken open during the night. They examined the
contents, and when they noted what particular things were gone, they
said to one another that John Carter had been there, and they knew it,
because he was an honest man who would not take anything that did not
belong to him. And John Carter kept his word to his customers. The story
that he once opened fire on a revenue cutter from a small battery which
he had made at the Cove is well known along the coast.

It is characteristic of the history of the smugglers everywhere that
they enjoyed the support of popular sympathy. This was certainly the
case in West Cornwall, where the farmers, the merchants, and, it is
rumoured, the local magistrates, used to find the money with which the
business was carried on, investing small sums in each voyage. Harry
Carter finding shelter at Marazion when the Government were offering a
reward for his capture (p. 26), and the action of the unnamed "great man
of the neighbourhood" on his return from America (p. 90), are perhaps
the reverse of the picture which George Borlase drew for General Onslow
("Lanisley Letters"); "the countenance given to the smugglers by those
whose business it is to restrain these pernicious practices, hath bro't
'em so bold and daring that nobody can venture to come near them with
safety whilst they are at their work." It is difficult to avoid the
conclusion that there must have been some powerful influence exerted in
his favour to obtain his exchange from prison in France in 1778, and
what else can we make of the commission to go privateering against the
Americans. The Government had then recently passed a measure[2] to
encourage privateering by authorising the Admiralty to grant
commissions, and apparently English sailors were everywhere readily
taking advantage of the opportunity so afforded for their enterprise.[3]
But to obtain such a commission the applicant had to find the security
of sureties, of whose "sufficiency" the commissioners were to satisfy
themselves, and also to send in a written application specifying the
ship for which the commission was asked, with full details as to the
number of her guns and other matters. He surely could not have ventured
to place himself in the hands of the Government in this way without a
friend at Court. It certainly seems a fair inference from their
popularity, their fame, and from the fact that they both rose to leading
positions amongst the smugglers while still comparatively young, that
Harry Carter and his brother John were superior men to the rough
material of which their crews were probably composed.

The accounts of the actual smuggling in the following pages are not very
elaborate, but we must remember that at the time when Harry Carter was
writing (1809), John Carter and the "Cove boys" were still at it, and
Prussia Cove had not yet ceased to be a great centre of smugglers. This
would also explain the absence of any more particular reference to any
of his companions. This reticence, which we must respect, although we
may regret it, is quite compensated by the variety of his later
experiences. To have been a prisoner in France during the Reign of
Terror, and at a time when the Convention had decreed that no quarter
should be given to an Englishman,[4] is of itself no small claim on the
attention of his countrymen. From his account, which is, I believe,
unique in English literature, and especially when it is compared with
those of French writers, it would seem that the English, who were, of
course, prisoners of war, were placed on the same footing as the
"aristocrats" and "suspects," the great number of whom made it necessary
to utilise the convents and even private houses as prisons. Alexandrine
des Echerolles tells us ("Private life in Public Calamities") that
"Bread was distributed daily to the prisoners, and their pitchers were
filled every morning with fresh water. Those who could not pay the
turnkeys for their trouble got none, so the rich used to bestow alms
upon the poor in this form.... Once a fortnight, I think, they were
supplied with fresh straw, or what was called such, each person
receiving an armful." She mentions that by degrees the prisoners
managed to make themselves more comfortable by introducing tables, and
chairs, and mattresses, which they were compelled to leave behind on
their removal to other prisons. All this coincides very closely with
Harry Carter's account, and he seems to have shared their anxiety as to
the fate of his friends and the common anticipation of the guillotine.

Even this does not exhaust the interest of his life. The very first
lines of his writing show the object with which he wrote. In no part of
England did the teaching and influence of John Wesley obtain such a hold
as in Cornwall. At the time of his first visit he speaks of the natives
of this distant country as "those who neither feared God nor regarded
man" ("Diary," May 17, 1743); he accuses them of wrecking and of
murdering those who were washed ashore, and describes their pastimes as
"hurling, at which limbs were often broken, fighting, drinking, and all
other manner of wickedness." The "Lanisley Letters" contain similar
charges of wrecking and murder, and Dr. Borlase confirms the statement
as to their drunken habits. In 1750 Wesley mentions how greatly all
these things were changed. They were, perhaps, not as much changed as he
thought, but undoubtedly they were greatly improved, for it is plain
fact that the whole of the moral reformation of the Cornish folk is due
to him. He gained followers so rapidly in the west that at the first
Methodist Conference in 1744, St. Ives is classed with London, Bristol,
and Newcastle; "from this it is evident," says Dr. Smith ("Hist. of
Methodism," i. 213), "that London, Bristol, St. Ives, and Newcastle were
regarded as the great centres of Methodism in England at this period."
At the third Conference (1746) Cornwall forms one district out of seven,
while the others included in some cases four and in one case six English
counties. In 1750 John Wesley ("Diary," August 18) says of St. Just,
"There is still the largest society in Cornwall, and so great a
proportion of believers I have not found in all the nation beside."
Similar societies or classes sprang up in the most remote places, such
as Rugan, or Rudgeon as it is more usually spelt now, where the society
met at which Charles Carter was converted; at Trevean and Caerlean,
where Harry Carter preached.

That especial characteristic of Wesley's organisation, "the local
preacher," took root firmly in Cornwall from the very first. To those
who are not acquainted with the county it may be necessary to explain
that these laymen, earnest men of all classes, who preach, are so common
in every village that they constitute a distinguishing feature in the
local life. The services in the small wayside chapels which are so
numerous are usually conducted by a local preacher in the intervals
between the visits of the regular ministers. Those who do know Cornwall
also know the importance of the local preacher in the history of the
Methodist movement. John Wesley's preaching was received by the poor and
uneducated, the miner, the fisherman, and the labourer, and the
persecution of the clergy and the magistrates only strengthened the
enthusiasm of the people for their great teacher. From such men sprang
the first local preachers; preaching and exhorting not with the dull
formality of men who had to do it, but with the earnestness of men who
really felt that they had a message to deliver, and labouring under
uncontrollable excitement they greatly impressed their hearers: while
the familiarity of their persons led their audience to look upon this
new teaching as a thing of their own to which they could all attain. It
is impossible to doubt that the hold which the movement gained was
greatly due to these men, and Harry Carter was one of them. John Wesley
had set himself from the first against the smuggling which he found so
prevalent; he had preached against it at several places, and had even
published a pamphlet against it. We may therefore fairly suppose that
Harry Carter, the great smuggler, was regarded as a most important
accession to the ranks of his followers.

The autobiography ends abruptly in the year 1795, but the writer lived
until April 19, 1829. The last thirty years of his life he spent at
Rinsey. He lived quietly, keeping himself occupied with a small farm,
and occasionally preaching in the neighbourhood. From the memoir of him
in the "Wesleyan Methodist Magazine," to which I have already referred,
I cull the two further facts that he retained the intensity of his
religious feelings up to his death, and that he never failed in grateful
recollections of James Macculloch--the Mr. M. of his French prison
experiences. Of his family I can learn but little. It is said that
originally they came from Shropshire, and certainly the name does not
show a Cornish origin. His father, who was called Francis, was born in
1712, and died on February 28, 1774; his mother, Agnes, was born in
1714, and died in 1784. Of the eight sons and two daughters of whom he
speaks, I can only trace four of the sons besides himself. Thomas, whom
he does not mention, was born in 1737, and died in 1818; and John, whom
he refers to as the eldest, Francis, born in 1745, and Charles, born in
1757, and died in 1803, are all mentioned in the autobiography. His
daughter, Elizabeth, as far as I can learn, died while young.

In preparing the manuscript for publication I have taken the liberty of
omitting some passages here and there which were simply repetitions, and
which did not throw any additional light either on the narrative or his
character. I have corrected all the wrong spellings which could be
classed as simple mistakes, but I have carefully preserved all spellings
which appeared of interest, as showing the pronunciation of the words,
and especially those which illustrate the local dialect. For instance,
the general preference for "a" over the other vowels, and especially in
final syllables, is distinctly characteristic of West Cornwall.

In some places, particularly towards the end, the manuscript is somewhat
damaged, and many of the pages have lost a portion of the lower corner.
The gaps so caused I have endeavoured to fill with the words which he
probably used, and such words are printed in italics. Where I have been
unable to suggest the missing words, I have left blanks.

                                                      JOHN B. CORNISH.

 PENZANCE, 1900.




AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A CORNISH SMUGGLER.


As it have been imprest upon my mind for sevral years to take a
memorandum of the kind dealings of God to my soul, in particular these
laste two or three years, I have been persuaded by sevral of my friends,
in particular Mr. Wormsley and Geo. Carter. I have thought in general it
would be so weak that no person of sense would ever publish it to the
world, notwithstanding, this morning being 20 of Dec^{r.} 1809, I have
taken up my pen, and may the Lord bring past things to my remembrance
just[5] as they are, and if published to the world, may the Lord make it
a blessing to every soul that read and hear it for Christ's sake, amen,
amen.

I have made sevral remarks at difrante times in years past of sume
particular things of my experience for my own amusement, then thinking
for no person ever to see it but myself only; and as I have made a
general rule more or less for sevral years to have had fixed times to
sit in silence to trace my whole life from 8 or 9 years of age, in
particular more so since I have tasted the goodness of God, moste
particular things that _I have_ past through seems to be tolerable
famil_iar_ to me.

I was born in the year of 1749 in Pengersick, in the parish of Breage,
in the County of Cornwall. My mother had ten children, eight sons and
two daghturs, eight of whom lived to maturity. My father was a
miner--likewayse rented a little farm of about 12_l._ p^r year--who was
a hard labring man, and brought up his family in what we caled[6] decent
poverty. My oldest and youngest brothers were brought up to good
country scolars, but the rest of my brothers with myself, as soon as we
was able, obliged to work in order to contribute a little to help to
support a large family, so that I never was keept to scool but only to
read in what we caled then the great Book. As for our Religion, we were
brought up like the rest of our neighbours, to say some prayers after we
were in the bed, and to go to Church on particular times as occasion
sarv'd us. When I was aboute 8 or 9 years old, my brother Francis was
aboute four years older than me. He joined the methodist society in
Rudgeon,[7] soon after found peace with God, and as him and me was moste
times sleeping and waking together he revealed himself unto me, told me
the place and time he received the Comfarter. I seeing such very great
chainge upon him, as before time he was a very active boy, I farmely
believed the report. From that time I farmley believed that except I was
born again I should in no case see the kingdom of God, so that
convictions followed me sharp and often, sumetimes constrained to weep
bitterly. But alas! as I grew up they went fewer[8] and fainter. Aboute
9 or 10 years old went to work to stamps, and continued there until 15
or 16. I worked to bal,[9] as I think, until I was aboute 17, and from
thence went with my two oldest brothers to Porthleah[10] or the King's
Cove afishing and smuggling, and I think aboute 18 or 19 went at times,
with Folston[11] people and sumetimes with Irish, as supercargo, whom we
freighted. Before this time I larned to write, and so far so, that I
would keep my own accounts.

I think I might have been aboute 25 when I went in a small sloop, about
16 or 18[12] tons, with two men beside myself, asmuggling, where I had
very great success; and after a while I had a new sloop built for me,
about 32 tons.[13] My success was rather beyond common, and after a time
we bought a small cuttar of aboute 50 tons[14] and aboute ten men. I
saild in her one year, and I suppose made more safe voyages then have
been ever made since or before with any single person. So by this time I
begun to think some thing of myself, convictions still following sharply
at times. I allwayse had a dislike to swearing, and made a law on board,
if any of the sailors should swear, was poneshed. Nevertheless my
intention was not pure; I had sume byends in it, the bottom of it was
only pride, etc. I wanted to be noted to be sumething out of the common
way of others, still I allwayse had a dislike to hear others swearing.
Well, then, I think I was counted what the world cales a good sort of
man, good humoured, not proude, etc. But man is short sighted, who can
disarn spirets when the heart is deceitful above all thing and
desparately wicked, oftentimes burning and boiling within in a blaze of
passion, though not to be seen without. Nevertheless in the meantime was
capable to be guilty of outward sins the same as others of my
companions, and often[15] times, when went out on a party, crying and
praying to keep me from a particular sin, was often the first that was
guilty of committing it. Then conchance,[16] after staring me in the
face, oh what a torment within I feelt.[17] So I went on for many years
sinning and repenting.

Well, then, in the cource of these few years, as we card[18] a large
trade with other vessels allso, we gained a large sum of money, and
being a speculating family was not satisfied with small things. Built a
new cuttar, aboute 197[19] tons, then one of the first in England;
expecting to make all our fortunes in a hurry. I was in her at sea in
Dec^{r.} 1777, made one voyage about Christmas. Returning to Guarnsey
light, sprung the bowspreat; was recommended from Guarnsey to St. Malos
for a bowspreat, and for the want of Customhouse papars and proper
despatchis was seized upon by the admiralty of the above place, where
they unbent the sails, took them onshore, and confined us all on board
with a gard of soldars as presoners, allowing two men to be on deck only
at a time; likenwayse their orders was for no person to come alongside,
no letters to pass or repass. But the comanding officer I soon got in
his favour, that I conveyed letters onshore, and sent an express to
Guernsey, likewayse to Roscoff, when there was soon certificates sent
them to certify what I was, as they stopped me under the pretence of
being a pirate; their pretence nevertheless was not altogether
unreasonable, I having sixteen carriage guns on board and thirty-six
men without any maritime pass, or anything to show for them.
Notwithstanding they certainly knew what I was. I think it was on the 30
Jan. 1778, and I think the latter end of March[20] there was an embargo
laid on all English bottams. They keept me on-board with all the people
until I think the 1 May, when they took me onshore in order to examine
me, and about four o'clock sent with a strong gard unto the Castle. This
was a strange seeing unto me, the first prison I ever saw the inside of,
the hearing of so many iron doors opening, etc. So I was put up to the
last floor in the top of that very high Castle, in a criminal jail,
where there were a little short dirty straw, etc. So after looking round
a little to see my new habitation, I asked of the jailor to send me a
chair to sit on, and sumething to eat, as I took nothing for the day,
then seeming to be in tolarable spirits; but as the jailor left me,
hearing the rattling of the doors and the noise of the keys, I begun to
reflect, where am I now? I shall shorley never come out of this place
whilst the war lasts, shorley I shall die here, etc. I suppose in the
course of an half hour heard the doors and keys as before for a long
time before I saw any person, so in came a man with a chair, my bed, and
a little soup, etc. Well, then, I sat myself down in the chair, looked
at my dinner, etc., but then begun to weep bitterly. I had not loste
only my liberty but the cuttar also, which was my God. My liberty was
gone, my honour, my property, my life, and my God, all was gone; and all
the ten thousand pounds I expected to get privateering was gone, as
there was a commission sent for me against the Americans before I left
home. There I walked the dismal place bewailing my sad case. But in the
space of aboute two hours two or three of my people were sent to join
me, and before night I think about eighteen of us, small room full. Then
we begun to sing and make a noise, so that sume of my fears vanished
away; hope of life sprung up, and as the Franch was such flatterers in
general, a very little hope for the cuttar, etc. The remainder of the
ship's company put in the town criminal jail. We was all keept in prison
until aboute the 20 or 21 day of the same month, when early in the
morning were took out by a strong gard of soldars, sent to Dinan prison
of war, where we had then plenty of room, etc. I suppose we were aboute
six or seven of us that every evening joined to sing psalms in parts,
etc. But this would not satisfy me, I know there was no Religion in this
at all, but one night as I was asleep, as we lay on the floor side by
side, I dreamed that I heard like the voice of an angel saying unto me,
"Except thou reform thy life, thou must totally be lost for ever." There
was something more that he said, but I cannot now remember it. When I
awaked I was in a lake, sweat from head to foot, and all my body in a
tremble. Nothing but fear and horror upon my mind. The next day I passed
much to myself, very serious and sad, not one smile on my countenance,
but keept[21] it all to myself. Took great care to lett no person know
anything of the mattar. Well, then, as Cain went to build a city in
order to divert his mind, I begun to larn navigation, and so loosed my
convictions little and little, that in the course of aboute a fortnight
I could do the same as I formely uste to do. I think I was in prison
aboute five or six weeks until my oldest brother John[22] was brought to
join me, as he come to St. Malas just after I was stopped, from
Guarnsey, with certificates from the Governor, etc., in order to try to
liberate the cuttar and me. Well, then, this allmoste so great tryal as
any, he being the head of the family, and thought the business muste
come to an end at home. We was keept both in preson until, as I think,
sume time in August, and was sent on parol about forty miles in a town
called Josselin. However, we was keeped in difrante places in the
country until I think the latter end of Nov^{r.} in 1779, when we were
private exchanged by the order of the Lords of the Admiralty in the room
of two French gentlemen sent to France in our room. And then to come by
the way of Ostend, being, as well I can remember, aboute five hundred
miles. From thence came by the way of London, and arrived at home the 24
Dec^{r.} in the same year. We found the family all alive and well, but
with the loss of the cuttar, and the business not managed well at home,
as my brother was then a presoner, and wanting from home aboute two
years, the family in a low state. Nevertheless, he being well respected
with the Guarnsey marchants, was offered credit with many of them. So
went on again in freighting of large vessels, and had very good speed
for sume time. I went again in the little cutter I had before, aboute 50
tuns.[23] And after making two or three voyages to the King's Cove, went
with a cargo on the coast of Wales. In order to smuggle it, went onshore
to sell it. Left the cuttar to anchor near the Mumbles, where an
information was given to an armship called the "Three Brothers," that
lay sume distance from there. And aboute that time there had been some
large privateers' cuttars on that coast from Dunkirk, and had taken many
prizes, manned and commanded chiefly with Irishmen. My cutter was
represented to be one of them, namely, the "Black Prince," mounting
sixteen guns and sixty men. I had then in the cutter about six men and
three beside myself onshore. When they saw the armship coming upon them,
cut the cable and went to sea; and when the ship gave up the chase from
the cuttar, sent his boats onshore, took up the cutter's cable and
anchor, and found me onshore. I having left my commission on board, and
had nothing to show who or what I was, took me on board the ship as a
pirate, and after examining me in the cabin for two or three hours,
detained me as a prisoner for twelve weeks until I was cleared by my
friends at home through the Lords of the Admiralty. So after I was at
home some time, riding about the country getting freights, collecting
money for the company, etc., etc., we bought a cuttar aboute 160
tons,[24] nineteen guns. I went in her sumetime asmuggling, and had
great success. We had a new luggar built, which mounted twenty guns, and
both went in company together from Guarnsey, smuggling along the coast,
so that by this time I begun to think sumething of myself again.
Nevertheless convictions never left me long together. But in the course
of this time, being exposed to more company and sailors of all
descriptions, larned to swear at times. And once, after discharging our
cargo, brought the both vessels to an anchor in Newlyn[25] Road, when we
had an express sent us from St. Ives of a large cuttar privateer from
Dunkirk, called the "Black Prince," had been on that coast and had taken
many prizes to go out in pursuit of her. It was not a very agreeable
business, notwithstanding for fear to offend the collector,[26] we put
round the both vessels to St. Ives Roade, and after staying there two
or three days, the same cutter hove in sight Christmas day in the
morning. We not having our proper crews on board, colected a few[27] men
together, and went to sea in pursuit of him. Soon come up with him, so
that after a running fight for three or four hours, as we, not being
half manned, and the sea very big, the shots so uncertain, the luggar
received a shot that was obliged to bear up, and in the course of less
then an hour after I received a shot that card of my jib, and another in
the hull, that we could hardly keep her free. So that we bore up after
the luggar, not knowing what was the matter of her running away. We came
up with her aboute five in the evning. Desired the Captain to quitt her,
but he, in hope to put her into Padstow, continued pumping and bailing
until aboute six, when he hail'd me, saying, stand by him, he was going
to quitt her. So that they hoisted out their boate, but the sea being so
bigg and the men being confused, filled her with water, so that they
could not free her nomore. I got my boat out in the meantime, sent her
alongside the luggar, so that some of the men jumpt over board, and my
boate pickt them up, and immediately the luggar went down. I hove to the
cuttar and laid her to, that she drifted right over the place that the
luggar went down, so that some of the men got on board by virtue of
ropes hove from the cuttar, sume got hold of the jib tack, and sume
pickt up by the cuttar's boate, so that we saved alive seventeen men and
fourteen drowned. As Providence would have it was aboute the full of the
moon, or certainly all must be lost. This was scene indeed. What cries!
what screeches! what confusion was there! We stayed some little time
there cruising aboute the place, but soon obliged to get the cuttar
under a double reefed trysail, a heavy gale of wind ensuing, and bore up
for the Mumbles. Now I am going to inform you of a little more of my
pride and vanity, the spirit of truth had not as yet forgot to strive
with me. Before we come up with the privateer, in expecting to come to
an engagement, oh, what horror was upon my mind for fear of death, as I
know I must come to judgment sure and sartin. If I died, I should be
lost for ever. Notwithstanding all this I made the greatest outward show
of bravery, and, through pride and presumption, exposed myself to the
greatest danger. I stood on the companion until the wad of the enemies'
shot flew in fire aboute me, and I suppose the wind of the shot struck
me down on the deck as the shot took in the mainsail right in a line
with me. One of my officers helpt me up, thought I was wounded, and he
would not suffer me to go there nomore. This was a great salvation, and
that of God, and not the only one; for all so many hundreds of shot have
flyed around me, I never received somuch as a blemish in one of my
fingers; but I can remember for many years before this, whenever I
expected to come to an engagement, I was allwayse struck with horror of
mind, knowing I was not fit to die; and since I have tasted of the
goodness of God, I have thought that the greatest hero in the Army or
Navy, as long as the spirit of Truth continue to strive with them, even
Anson, is struck with the like feelings; and if ever I hear of a coward,
I know this is the cause of it.

In the year of 19th April, 1786, I was married to Elizabeth Flindel, of
Helford, in the parish of Manaccan, and in April 19, 1787, she bore me a
daughter, who was called after her mother's name, and I think it was
aboute midle of Nov^{r.} I went in a luggar, asmuggling, about 140[28]
tons, mounting sixteen carriage guns. After making one voyage at home to
the King's Cove I got a freight for Costan,[29] and as I depended on
them people to look out if there were any danger, according to their
promise, came into the Bay, and after sume time spoke with a boate from
the above place, saying it was a clear coast, there was no danger to
bring the vessel up to anchor, and we should have boats enough out to
discharge all the cargo immediately. So that I brought the vessel to
anchor, leaving the jib with the trysail and mizen set, and begun to
make ready, opening the hatches, etc., when I saw two boats rowing up
from the shore. I said to the pilot, "There is two boats acoming." He
answered, "They are our boats coming to take the goods out," etc. Soon
after a boat come alongside. "Do you know these is two man-o'war's
boats?" We immediately cutt the cable, and before the luggar gathered
headway were right under the starn. They immediately cutt off the mizen
sheet, and with a musket-shot shot off the trysal tack and boarded us
over the starn. My people having sume muskets, dropt them down and went
below. I knowing nothing of that, thought that all would stand by me. I
begun to engage them as well as I could without anything in my hands, as
they took us in surprise so suddenly, I having my great coat on buttoned
aboute me, I seeing none of my people, only one man at the helm; and
when they saw no person to oppose them, turned upon me with their broad
swords, and begun to beat away upon my head. I found the blows very
heavey--crushed me down to the deck--and as I never loosed my senses,
rambled forward. They still pursued me, beating and pushing me, so that
I fell down on the deck on a small raft just out of their way. I suppose
I might have been there aboute a quarter of an hour, until they had
secured my people below, and after found me laying on the deck. One of
them said, "Here is one of the poor fellows dead." Another made answer,
"Put the man below." He answered again, saying, "What use is it to put a
dead man below?" and so past on. Aboute this time the vessel struck
aground, the wind being about East S.E. very hard, right on the shore.
So their I laid very quiet for near the space of two hours, hearing
their discourse as they walked by me, the night being very dark on the
30 Jan^{y.} 1788. When some of them saw me lying there, said, "Here lays
one of the fellows dead," one of them answered as before, "Put him
below." Another said, "The man is dead." The commanding officer gave
orders for a lantern and candle to be brought, so they took up one of
my legs, as I was lying upon my belly; he let it go, and it fell as dead
down on the deck. He likewayse put his hand up under my clothes, between
my shirt and my skin, and then examined my head, and so concluded,
saying, "The man is so warm now as he was two hours back, but his head
is all to atoms." I have thought hundreds of times since what a miracle
it was I neither sneezed, coughed, nor drew breath that they perceived
in all this time, I suppose not less than ten or fifteen minutes. The
water being ebbing, the vessel making a great heel towards the shore, so
that in the course of a very little time after, as their two boats was
made fast alongside, one of them broke adrift. Immediately there was
orders given to man the other boat in order to fetch her; so that when I
saw them in the state of confusion, their gard broken, I thought it was
my time to make my escape, so I crept on my belly on the deck, and got
over a large raft just before the main mast, close by one of the men's
heels, as he was standing there handing the trysail. When I got over
the lee-side I thought I should be able to swim on shore in a stroke or
two. I took hold of the burtins[30] of the mast, and as I was lifting
myself over the side, I was taken with the cramp in one of my thighs. So
then I thought I should be drowned, but still willing to risk it, so
that I let myself over the side very easily by a rope into the water,
fearing my enemies would hear me and then let go. As I was very near the
shore, I thought to swim onshore in the course of a stroke or two, as I
used to swim so well, but soon found out my mistake. I was sinking
almost like a stone, and hauling astarn in deeper water, when I gave up
all hopes of life, and begun to swallow some water. I found arope under
my breast, so that I had not lost all my senses. I hauled upon it, and
soon found one end fast to the side just where I went overboard, which
gave me a little hope of life. So that when I got there, could not tell
which was best, to call to the man-of-war's men to take me in, or to
stay there and die, for my life and strength was allmoste exhausted; but
whilst I was thinking of this, touched bottam with my feet. Hope then
sprung up, and I soon found another rope, leading towards the head of
the vessel in shoaler water, so that I veered upon one and hauled upon
the other that brought me under the bowsprit, and then at times, upon
the send of a sea, my feete was allmoste dry. I thought then I would
soon be out of their way. Left go the rope, but as soon as I attempted
to run, fell down, and as I fell, looking round aboute me, saw three men
standing close by me. I know they were the man-of-war's men seeing for
the boat, so I lyed there quiet for some little time, and then creeped
upon my belly I suppose aboute the distance of fifty yards; and as the
ground was scuddy, some flat rock mixt with channels of sand, I saw
before me a channel of white sand, and for fear to be seen creeping
over it, which would take some time, not knowing there was anything the
matter with me, made the second attempt to run, and fell in the same
manner as before. My brother Charles being there, looking out for the
vessel, desired some of Cawsand men to go down to see if they could pick
up any of the men dead or alive, not expecting ever to see me any more,
allmoste sure I was ither shot or drowned. One of them saw me fall, ran
to my assistance, and taking hold of me under the arm says, "Who are
you?" So as I thought him to be an enemy, made no answer. He said, "Fear
not, I am a friend; come with me." And by that time forth was two more
come, which took me under both arms, and the other pushed me in the
back, and so dragged me up to the town. I suppose it might have been
about the distance of the fifth part of a mile. My strength was allmoste
exhausted; my breath, nay, my life, was allmoste gone. They took me
into a room where there were seven or eight of Cawsand men and my
brother Charles, and when he saw me, knew me by my great coat, and cryed
with joy, "This is my brother!" So then they immediately stript off my
wet clothes, and one of them pulled off his shirt from off him and put
on me, sent for a doctor, and put me to bed. Well, then, I have thought
many a time since what a wonder it was. The bone of my nose cut right in
two, nothing but a bit of skin holding it, and two very large cuts in my
head, that two or three pieces of my skull worked out afterwards; and
after so long laying on the deck with that very cold weather, and being
not alltogether drowned, but allmoste, I think, I did not know I was
wounded or loste any blood. And now, my dear reader, I am going to show
you the hardening nature of sin. When I was struggling in the water for
life I gave up all hope, I was dead in my own mind; nevertheless my
conscience was so dead asleep I thought nothing aboute Heaven or hell
or judgment; and if I had died then I am sure I should have awaked
amongst devils and damned spirits. See here this greate salvation and
that of the Lord. I have been very near drowned, I think, twice before
this, and have been exposed to many dangers many a time in the course of
time betwen the five years the lugger was loste in the North Channel and
this time, privateering, smuggling, etc., but I think conscience never
so dead as now. I stayed there that night and the next evening took
chaise. My brother and me, and the docter came with us so far as
Lostwithiel, and arrived at home the night after to brother Charles
house. I stayed there about six or seven days, until it was advertised
in the papers, I think three hundred pounds for apprehending the Captain
for three months from the date thereof, which set us all of alarm. So I
moved from there to a gentleman's house at Marazion. I think I stayed
there about two or three weeks, and from thence moved to Acton
Castle,[31] as my brother John rented the farm, the famely not being
there then, so that the keys and care of the house were left to his
charge, and after a few days removed to Marazion again, then afraid of
the shaking of a leaf. I think I might have stayed at Marazion for the
course of a fortnight, and then went to the Castle again.[32] I used to
half burn my coals by night in order that there should be no smoke seen
in the daytime. In the course of about three months, after my wounds
were nearly healed, I used to go at night to the King's Cove and there
to drink grog, etc., with the Cove boys until the gray of the morning,
convictions following me very sharp still at times. In my way home to my
dreary lodgings, the larks flying up in the fields around me, warbling
out their little beautiful notes, used to move me with envy, saying,
"These dear little birds answer the end they were sent in the world for,
but me, the worst of all creatures that ever was made." So that I have
wished many a time I had been a toad, a serpent, or anything, so that I
had no soul, for I know I must give an account for my conduct in this
world. Likewayse there was a gray thrush that sang to me night and
morning close to the house, which have preached to me many a sermon.

In the daytime I chiefly spent my time improving my learning on
navigation, etc. I remember one Sabbath day, when I was at Marazion, I
heard some people singing of hymns. I think they were Lady Huntingdon's
people, when sincerely wished I had been one of them. I often[33]
thought there was very great beauty in religion, and when I have been
with others laughing and ridiculing the methodists, wished I had been
one of them, whom I thought best of them. See what hypocrite was here.
I remember aboute a year before this I went with my wife to Caerlean
preaching, on the Sunday afternoon, where I stood as near as I could by
the door. When the word fastened upon my mind, saying, "Thou art the
man." So that I was constrained to turn my face to the wall and weep
bitterly, with promises to mend my life, etc. But, alas! I had not gone
perhaps an hundred yards from the house until I joined my old
companions, so lost all my convictions. That was not the only time by
many when I have set up resolutions in my own strength to serve the
Lord, etc. Well, then, in the course of this time, whilst at this place,
my wife would come to see me, and sometimes bring the child with her,
and spend a day or two, so that I passed my time pleasantly whilst she
was with me. I think it was in the latter end of August my wife was
taken very poorly in consumption, being before of a delicate
constitution, and was allwayse obliged to come and go at night. I think
it was in the beginning of Oct^{r.} in 1788 when I went to Helford to
see her, in company with a servant man to brother John, one night, as
she removed from her own house to be with her mother. I found her in a
very weak state, and as I expected then soon to quit the country, I
stayed with her about two or three hours, when we took our final
farewell of each other, never expecting to see each other no more in
time. Oh, what a trying scene it was, to leave her in flood of tears. So
I arrived home to my dreary solitude a little before day. I, before
then, was greatly distressed for her soul, and through friends desired
Uncle James Thomas to visit her, so he did often. I think it was about
the 10 or 12 of the same month, when I was sitting upon a bench in one
of the ground floors, bemoaning my sad estate, I began to say to myself,
"I have loste my liberty, my property; I have loste my wife also"--as
she was the same as dead to me then--so I thought that if her life were
spared, it mattered little to me if I was to go to the West or East
Indies, so that I could only hear from her by letters, would leave me
some comfart. But that was taken away allso; so that when I was cutt off
from every comfart in this life, that I had not the least straw to lay
hold of, I begun to see the emptiness and vanity of everything here
below, and set up the resolution, God being my Helper, I will serve Him
the remnant of my days, so that I immediately fell to my knees and begun
to say, "Lord have mercy upon me. Christe, have mercey upon me," etc.;
and at that time I could not say the Lord's Prayer without form, if any
man would give me my liberty, being so long living without prayer. So,
then, as before time I used to divert myself in the daytime in looking
at the ships and boats in the bay, the men and cattle working in the
fields, etc., but now shut my eyes against them all; and if I had
business in the daytime to go to the top of the house, was with my eyes
shut. So I went on with the above prayer, sometimes in hope of mercy,
othertimes lost allmoste all hope. Oct^{r.} 24, in 1788, sailed from
Mounts Bay for Leghorn in the ship "George," Capt^{n.} Dewen, master.
Was put on board with a boate from the King's Cove, accompanied by
brother John, and I think I was allmoste like a dead man; thought little
or nothing consarning my wife or child, or anything in this world, but
was earnestely crying for mercy. I had a little cabin to myself to lodge
in, where there was only a single partition between me and the men. At
first it was a great pain to me to hear them swearing, but after a
little while took very little notice of it. I had sume very good books
to read with me, but they seem to be all locked up to me, as the natural
man cannot desarn the things of the Spirit of God, for they are to be
spiritualy desarned. I remember sumetimes reading, when I could not
understand, I should be so peevish and fretfull that I could heave the
book overboard. Then, oh, what a torment in my poor soul I feeled. Then
to think, surely the mercy of God is clean gone from me. Oh, what
burthen my life was unto me. At them times I seldom prayed then less in
secret than twelve times a day and night, and when I could pray with a
little liberty, I should be in hope of mercy, and at other times kneel
down and groan without one word brought to my remembrance, then allmoste
ready to give up all, saying, "Surely there is no mercy for me; all my
prayers is no use at all, God pays no respect unto them"; but still I
dare not give up praying. I could look back afterwards and see I was all
prayer. So I think I arrived at Leghorn in the latter end of December,
where I passed my Christmas. I think the first Sabbath after I came
there the Capt^{n.} asked me to go on shore to church with him, as there
was an English church and clergyman there. I gladly went. The minister
being a good reader, I saw in his countenance much gravity and
solemnity. I said to myself, "Surely this is the man of God," and
thought I was highly favoured to hear him. The next Sunday I gladly
went again, but on coming on board after the service was over, I was
told that sacrament days he did not scruple to go to the plays, and play
cards, etc., which poisoned my mind so with prejudice, I never went
nomore. In the course of all this time I never meet with one person to
give me one word of advice consarning my soul, but I laboured to keep
myself to myself so much as posable, still reading and praying with all
diligence. Well, then, the Capt^{n.} got a freight there to go to
Barcelona, to load with brandy for New York in America. I was very glad
when I heard of it, as I heard that there was methodists there, in hope
I should fall in with sume of them to give me a word of instruction. So
I think we sailed from Leghorn in the latter end of Jan^{y.} 1789. The
Lord still continued to strive with me, sumetimes in hope of salvation,
other times allmoste ready to give up all hope; but I still was diligent
in reading and prayer, but I was so ignorant of the ways of salvation
as I was at the first time I began to pray. I remember on my passage
there one day, scudding before the wind, very cold weather, and a very
big sea, looking over the starn. I thought I should be very glad to be
tyed in a rope and towed after the ship for a fortnight, if that would
get me into the favour of God. But alas! I know all such works would not
merit anything from God as salvation. I arived at New York on the 19
April in '89, and aboute ten or twelve days before I arived there, I was
taken with a violent inflammation in one of my eyes, so I could see very
little on that eye and the other was much afected allso. So after two or
three days being there, there came a glasar[34] on board to put in a
pane of glass in the cabin windows. And as the Capt^{n.} and mate was
not presant, I thought it was my time to enquire out the methodists, and
as shame allways hunted me much, I begun to ask him aboute the defrante
persuasions of people there; at laste I asked, "Is there any of Mr.
Wesly's methodists here?" He answerd, "There is many." I asked him, "Do
you know any of them?" He answered, "Yes, many of them." I asked, "What
sort of people are they?" thinking, if he gave them a bad carakter, to
say no further. His answer, "They are a good sorte of people," so then I
asked him, "Do you know the precher?" He said, "I do, and I go to hear
him sometimes." I said, "Then I shall be obliged to you if you will send
your little boy with me to show me the precher's house." So after he
stared a little at me, said, "If you will stay a little until I have
done this job, I will ither go with you myself or git sume person that
shall." So that encouraged me very much, set me in high spirits, and
after a little further discourse, he told me his wife was a methodist,
and soon after took me to his house, where the dear woman received me
very kindly. And when she know I wanted to speak to the precher, she
asked me if I did belong to the connection in _England_. I answered,
"No, but I wants to speak to the precher." She said, "To-night is
publick meeting night. I will go with you a half hour sooner, when we
shall find Mr. Dickinson home." So accordingly we went together, where I
found the dear man and his wife in the kitchen. As soon as I looked at
him, I said to myself, "This is the man I wants to see; this is the man
of God." I said, "Sir, I should be glad to speak a few words with you."
So as there was no persons presant but his wife and the good woman that
come with me, said, "Say on." I said, "To yourself, if you please, sir."
So he took me into a small parlour and said, "What do you want of me?" I
said, "Sir, I am an Englishman, and belong to a ship in the harbour. I
know I am a great sinner, and as I am informed you belongs to Mr.
Weseley's people, I want to know what I must do." He looked at me and
said, "Do you think God would be just to send you to hell?" I was
surprised at such a question, did not know what answer to make. Then he
begun to say to this purpose, that Christe come to seek and to save that
which was lost, etc. He likewayse asked me, "Do you pray?" I said, "Yes,
a little." "Do you fast too?" said he. I said, "No, sir." So, after
asking me a few more questions he said, "There is a publick prayer
meeting here this evning, you may stay if you please."

So I thought he paid me a very great compliment. I thanked him, and when
the time come, that dear woman took me to the _meeting_ house and put me
in a place to sit down. So after they had sung and prayed, the precher
gave an exhortation, and I thought all to me, so that I was a little
comfarted; and after the meeting was ended, the dear woman took me by
the hand, as I was half blind, and lead me home to her own house; and
the good glasar, her husband, lead me on board, with a strict charge not
to fail coming to see them to-morrow. So I gladly accepted of the
invitation, and when I came there she had brought one of the class
leaders and a good old woman to meet me, who gave me great encouragement
to seek the Lord. My eye still getting worse, and as I could not get
leeches as I used to do at home, applyed to a doctor, and he cutt the
small blood-vessels of the apple of my eye, and so lett the blood out.
So as the ship was going to Baltimore to load, I thought if I went in
her I should be in danger to lose the sight of one eye if not both, as
both was much afected. So, then, I concluded to stay there, where I
attended all the ordinance; some place to go to every night. And I think
it was aboute the 1 of May when I was asked if I would have a note of
admittance to meet in class. I thought it to be the greatest compliment
I ever received in all my life, and gladly accepted it; so that when the
leader asked my name, as he took me in surprize, I said "Harry." He
said, "Is that your sir name?" I said, "Yes." Then he asked, "What is
your Christian name?" I said, "Henry." So the people called me, sume
Mr. Harry and sume Capt^{n.} Harry, as the sailors I come with me _caled
me_ Capt^{n.} Harry; so that in the course of a very little time I got
more acquaintance with them dear people. I could see afterwards I was
hungering and thirsting after righteousness, but sometimes in hope of
mercy, othertimes allmoste ready to give up all. I used to walk out of
town every morning in sume solitary place to myself to read and pray;
and I know since that time if I wanted to know when the clock struck
twelve in order to go home, that the family should not wait for me for
dinner--I did hardely know much better when the clock had done striking
no more than when it begun--I had not the time to count two, for all my
soul was in a blaze of prayer. I think in the beginning of May, Doctor
Cook[35] come there to hold confarence. I wished to make myself known
unto him, but was afraid, as at that time I know very little aboute the
methodists--afraid of the shaking of a leaf. And for all[36] I was so
highly favoured with so much helps and means I could form no idea of
justifying faith. Sometimes I thought I should here as a man's voice to
speak unto me, other times think to see something with my bodily eyes,
other times think as if my body should be changed. I have thought many
times that there never was one so ignorant as I was in the ways of
salvation. Sometimes, if I could weep a little under a sarmon, or in a
prayer meeting, I should have some hope I was in the way, and sumetimes
feel the drawings of the Father, which would give me sume encouragement
and hope; other times, if I saw any persons weeping by me, should
complain of the hardness of my heart, and be allmoste ready to give up
all. Nevertheless I still continued praying--I supose seldom less than
twelve times in aday--and sometimes think whether the hindrance was
because I missed naming myself. Well, then, I have thought many a time
since of my unwillingness to belief, for all I was blessed with so many
helps and means. The prechers, and aboute six or seven people in
particular, took me by the hand and was like fathers, mothers, brothers,
and sistars, so that I often in the afternoon amongst sume of them dear
women and the prechers, drinking tea, &c.; and if I should sit with them
more than an half hour without sume of them should ask me something of
the state of my mind, I should be so much dejected, and say to myself,
"Surely I am beneath the least of their notice; how can I expect the
least of their notice?" and I remember one day went to the hospital to
preching. When the preching was over, the two prechers, Mr. Morld and
Mr. Cloude, in their way home, I drew nigh to them; thought to have some
conversation with them, and as they used to make so free with me, then
only spoke as I thought coldly. I was so much dejected in my own mind,
I thought I was the worst creature that ever was born, and that allmoste
all things cryed vengance against me. Another time I remember I went to
the precher's house to inquire after Mr. Cooper, he not being there that
presant, and as I went out to one door he came in to the other, I not
seeing him.

Mr. Morld said to him, "Brother Carter was here inquiring after you." I
heard him, and was immediately struck with wonder to think a such man as
he should be so humble as to call a such poor creature as me, brother.
So these was some of the ways I was tryed. Some times up, sume times
down, sume times in hope and sume times allmoste ready to give up.
Notwithstanding all this I continued still in prayer, and I remember
when walked the streets I was like one with his eyes shut, crying for
salvation, and likewayse crying to the Lord that there might nothing
take my attention or the least of my afection from Him in this world. I
think I was there aboute three or four weeks, when I was asked why I did
not go to sacrament. I answered, "I am unworthy." The person answered,
"You are the very person that is worthy." So as he could not prevail
upon me to go, he told the preachers of it, and after class meeting on
the Sabbath morning, as they was going to a friend's house to breakfast,
asked me to go with them. They soon opened their commission, and asked
me to come to the sacrement to-day. I answered, I could not. They asked
my reason. I said, "Him that eateth and drinketh unworthy, eateth and
drinketh his own damnation," and immediately I burst out in a flood of
tears, and desired the company to pray for me. The whole large company
kneeled down, and prayed for me with great powar, so that I had not the
only wet face by many in the company, and after prayer took me to
reason, so I consented to go. And I went with much fear and trembling. I
feeled nothing particular in the ordinance, but ever after continued to
go. I think it was in the beginning of June I begun to abstain from
eating, and as I eate to the full before, I slackoned a little every
meal. I was afraid to fast for fear the family should take notice of me;
and aboute this time I sent home for sume money, then thinking to set on
a shop in C^{o.} with Rob^{t.} Snow, then thinking to leave my bones
there. So I still went on sume times thinking I was getting into
lukewarm state, other times a little hope of mercy, and sume times
allmoste despair of all mercy. But I remember 19 July I went to
preaching as usual, when, as the preacher was pointing out the
odiousness of sin, and the hartfeelt sorrow that a true penitent soul
feeled for it, he mentoned of a woman that had a cancer cutt out of her
breast a few days before, and when she was asked if the pain was not
very great, her answer was, "Not so great as when I was under
convictions for sin." I immediately concluded I was out of the way. I
had hardley the least hope left of Christ, Heaven, or happyness. So in
my way home in company with Mr. Cooper, a little before we parted he
said, "Capt^{n.}, what is the matter? You seem to be lowspirited
to-night." I answered, "Yes, and well I may." He said, "What then is the
matter?" I said "Did you not hear Mr. Morel saying aboute the woman that
had the cancer cutt out of her breast, and I am sure I am not in the
way, I never feeled such pain at all," etc. He said, "I am sure you are
in the way," and then begun to repeat the promises, etc. I thought I had
heard the same promises repeated hundreds of times before, but never in
such manner as at presant. Hope sprung up that the blessing was very
near to me. I went home to my lodgings, and after prayer opened the
Hymbook to--

 Salvation, oh the joyfull sound,
   What music to our ears;
 A sovereign Balm for every wound,
   A cordial for our fears.
 Glory, honour, etc. etc.[37]

I was allmoste ready to fly away. I went to bed, but did hardly sleep
all the night, praying and praising God. Never the less in all this I
did not believe that my sins was pardoned, but I hope God would do it,
and that soon. In the morning went to the man of God, told him how I
feeled, to which he gave me great encouragement. The next night went to
preaching aboute two miles out of town. I was still very comfartable,
but could not believe. The next day being 21, aboute two or three
o'clock in the afternoon, I went to pray that God would show me the
hindrance that stood between him and my soul, and that he would show me
by that man of God, or by some other means. After I rose up from my
knees I went to the man of God. He saw me coming, and asked me with a
smile, "Well, Captain, how is it with you now?" I answered, "I have been
just now praying that God would show me the hindrance that stands
between him and my soul, and take it away from me." He answered in his
usual pleasant way, "Nothing at all, Captain, only unbelief; but I
would advise you to spend moste of this afternoon in prayer, that God
would show you under the sarmon, or by some other means, before you go
to bed," etc. So I did according to his direction, and in the evning
went to preching in great expectation. And when Mr. Morel delivered his
text from the 15 chapter St. John, "Abide in me and I in you," and as he
went on a little, I thought, surely this is for me. Hope sprung up; but
after a little further I thought Mr. Cooper had been telling the precher
of what I had told him, which set me in doubting. But after he went on a
little further, I said to myself, "Whether he have told him or not, it
is for me," and I believed in that moment, so that I rejoiced with joy
unspeakable and full of glory. As soon as the sarvice was ended, lest
Satan should get an advantage over me, I told the preacher what the Lord
had done for me, and immediately Mr. Cooper, so that we rejoiced
greately together, to which the latter told me, "You must go in the
morning to such and such a ones" (mentioned six or seven houses), "and
tell them what the Lord have done for you, and forget not to sing and
pray with them." So I went according to his order, and told them that I
had received the comforter, so that we had a happy morning together.
Well, then, I went on my way rejoicing, no doubts, no fears, nither
hardly a temptation, until the end of ten or twelve days. So then I went
on, sume times on the mount with Peter and John, some times in doubts
and fears; and if I did not allwayse find my mind in a blaze of prayer
unto God, I frequent used to say to myself, "Now I am surely getting
into a lukewarm state," and so write bitter things against myself.
Aboute this time I begun to fast once a week, until aboute four o'clock
in the afternoon, and abstain to nearly half my fill. I think it was in
the later end of Augst when I received a letter from my mother-in-law
consarning my wife's death. I soon begun to reason if she was gone happy
or not, so that in the course of a few days after I used to go out by
night, and looking up towards heaven, wishing and praying to see her
vision, or to know by some means whether she was gone happy or not. And
one night, before I went to bed, I prayed earnestely to the Lord if he
would show me by dream or by vision. So that night I dreamed I was
amongst serpents and vipars, and the worst of venemest beasts, that I
had the hardest struggels to get clear of them, so when I awaked I was
in a lake of sweat from head to foot. Then I thought I had not done
according to the will of God. I continued in that state, with my harp
hanged upon the willows, could not sing one note for a thousand worlds
for all so much delight I took in it in times past, keep it all this
time to myself, so that I got myself into such wilderness state that I
could hardly tell if I was in the favour of God or not. But I think it
was to the end aboute fourteen days I opened my mind to Mrs. Snow, who
said, "By your own account your wife had good morals, and she _had_ also
the preachers and people to pray and instruct her; I have a good hope
she is gone happy. Nevertheless, whether or not, you must leave that to
God, it is a business you must have nothing at all to do with; and if
you continue to go on in this way, I am in doubt as you are in danger to
lose all your Religion." So we kneeled down and she prayed for me, and
immediately I went to a prayer meeting. The first hymn was,

 My God, the spring of all my joy,
 The life of my delights, etc.

I sung with a loud voice but with a wet face, so that the temptation
left me. Glory be to God for dear friends, etc. So I went on as before,
some times happy and other times in doubts and fears, but still getting
a little strength.

I think it was aboute this time that I left of drinking water, and I
think it was in the beginning of September I concluded in my mind to
quit the town and go to Baltimore; and as there was a ship bound there I
spoke for a passage, and got most things ready for the voyage. But oh!
what a tryal it was to me to think of leaving of my New York friends,
where the Lord had helped me in such abundant manner, and then to go 700
miles from there to a place and people I knew nothing of. I begun to
reason as before with the enemy of my soul, "Surely at last I shall
become a castaway, surely I shall be stripped of all my Religion!" I
suppose no man can conceive the misery I feeled in my own mind for the
course of aboute ten or twelve days; I have thought since that I never
had a greater tryal. But to the end of this time one night I went to
preching, where Mr. Asbery,[38] with his great loud voice, gave out this
hymn--

 Tho' troubles assail and dangers afright,
 If friends all should fail and foes all unite,
 Yet one thing assures us, what ever betide,
 I trust in all dangers the Lord will provide,
     etc., etc.[39]

I never heard that hymn before, and as he went on I was filled with such
faith and love I could trust and not be afraid; it mattered nothing to
me where I went, as I believed that God would be with me. I never opened
my mind to no person in the course of all this time, but I was thinking
to the same day I sailed, or the day before, and that only to desire one
of my friends when my money came from England to remitt it unto me. But
at that time, as I was so happy in God, and could trust him with both
soul and body, I thought I could trust his servant allso. So I begun and
opened all my mind to my Father Cooper, told him who and what I was, and
how I came there, and all my reason I had to quit the town, which was,
as my right name was H. Carter, and as I hailed as H. Harry, I thought
if I entered into business I must at times have business upon the
wharves,[40] amongst the shipping; and if I ever meet any person that
know me I should be branded as a hypocrite, and hurt my partner and
sadly wound the cause of God. He answered and said, "Capt^{n.}, as that
is the cause, I think you need not leave the place. If you think
proppar, I'll speak to the prechers and your leader, and appoint to meet
to one of your friends' houses one afternoon, where, I think, we shall
be able to settle all the business, but you must not be presant."
Accordingly they meet all together, those I was moste particular
acquainted with, so he opened the business. They all joined together,
and said, "He did this when in a natural state, not meaning to wrong or
defraud any man, for personal safety, and when we hear anyone call him
'Captain Harry' or 'Mr. Harry,' we must say his surname is Carter, as it
is the custom in England where there is two Captains of one family, the
one is called after his Christian name." So my old friend delayed no
time, but soon come with this full account to me where I rejoiced in my
great deliverer. I could not then doubt but this was the Lord's doings,
and it was marvellous in my eyes, so that the report soon spread aboute
the town. But moste of them, as they begun with "Captain Harry," so
continued; and I thought tho' their love was so great to me before, it
was increased if possible tenfold more so; so then I concluded in my
mind to stay, and thought to live and die there, and went on as before,
watching and praying, frequaintely complaining of my littleness of love,
weakeness of Faith, etc., until aboute the 19 of December, when I went
to class meeting on the Sabbath morning. Providence sent one there from
the County of Durham, in England, whose name was Hodgson. He lately come
to town in company with two excellent men from the same place, and as he
being a stranger, the leader desired him to speake to the people. So he
begun, saying how and when he was convinced of sin, when he was
converted, and when he was sanctified unto God; and after, exhorted all
that believed to only believe and see the salvation of God, and with
this language, "all things in Christe is now ready, all the fitness he
requires is to feel the need of him." So he preached a presant and full
salvation unto us. Such language I never heard before with no man. Now
in the course of this time I had been there Religion was not in a very
prospras state, few[41] convinsed and very few converted unto God, but
the people going on still in a steady state, so that we never heard
sanctification preached, or seldom prayed for, in publick, and amongst
the whole of the methodists that was there at that time, aboute, as well
as I can remember, 260 in all, and only two persons out of the whole
number that did perfess and enjoy the blessing of sanctification--my
Father Cooper was one, and an old woman the other. So that I thought if
I could receive that blessing to the end of three or four years, I
thought it would be a blessing indeed, etc. So then, after the meeting
was ended, as Mr. Hodgson and me lodged in the same part of the town,
went in company together. He begun to ask me who I was, etc., so that I
gave him a true description of how long I had been in town, and what the
Lord had done for me since I had been there. When I had done speaking,
he said, "Well, my brother, be thankfull for what the Lord have done for
you, and ask for more"; and some thing in this way, "Go on to
perfection, it is the will of God, even your sanctification. Do you
believe these things?" I answered, "I believe in the doctrine of
sanctification, but I cannot believe the promise is to me." He asked for
what reason, I said, "I am a poor egnarant person, and it is not more
than five months since I am justified, and there is a great number of
excellent men and women in this town that is usefull to their fellow
creatures in praying in publick, visiting the sick, instructing the
ignorant, etc., they do not perfess this blessing at all, and how can I
expect it, who am good for nothing, and so unworthy and unfit for it."
He answered, "All the fitness he requires is to feel the need of him.
The promise is for you; only believe, and see the salvation of God,"
etc. So the discourse I had with him set my soul all of a flame, the
blessing seemed to be nigh me. I went home and fell to my knees in
prayer. I thought I was just ready to laye hold of it, but unbelief
hindered me; but the hope of the blessing being so very nigh, made me
rejoice in abundant manner. I was very happy all that day and the next
day allso, still in earnest expectation to receive the blessing. But the
day following went to a prayer meeting, being on 21 December, where I
meet Mr. Hodgson providentely, and after the meeting he asked me to go
home to his house with him. I gladly embraced the opportunity, and after
a little conversation by his fireside the Lord enabled me to believe in
him for full salvation. I immediately told him, saying, "Glory be to
God, I do believe." So after we sung and prayed, he said, "You must go
in the morning and tell your friends of what the Lord have done for
you; this blessing may not be given for your sake only, but for others
also." So I parted with him, and went home, jumping,[42] and leaping,
and praising of God. And the next morning, according to his order, I
went from house to house, and told the six or seven familes that I was
moste particular acquainted with what the Lord had done for my soul, so
that we rejoiced greately together, they farmely believed the report.
And I have thought many times since, as if I hard them say, "Now we see
God have no respect of persons. This poor ignorant Englishman have been
here with us only a few months, have been justified and sanctified, and
surely if this blessing is to be attained too, we will never rest until
we receive it." So that the preachers and people were all in alarm. In
the course of a few days there were new prayer meetings set up upon
allmoste every quarter of the town, so that in a very little time the
Chapel would scarcely hold half of the people, and the Lord begun to
pour a lot of his spirit upon the people in a wonderful manner--some
crying for mercy, others standing up rejoicing and praising of God that
they know their sins was forgiven them; likewayse others rejoicing,
saying that God spake the second time, "Be clean," and cast out all
their inbred sin; and oh, what a glorious work was there. I know one of
my friends going home from a prayer meeting one night, aboute two or
three o'clock in the morning, called to another friend's house, knocked
him out of bed, and told him that God cleansed him from all
unrighteousness. They both joined in prayer, and they wrasled with God
until the other experienced the same blessing allso. So that with the
noise and brusel[43] of the people the world seemed as it were turned
upside down. The Calvinests, Baptists, Universalists, Quakers, with the
people of the Establish Church, all seemed to rise up in arms against
it. Sume said the devel was amongst the methodists, sume one thing, sume
another; but the work continued to go on in a glorious manner, so that
in the course of aboute two or three months the society increased from
aboute 260 to more than 500. It was then good times indeed, praise be to
God. I have had the pleasure to see many revivals since, but I think I
never saw greater heroes for the work then my dear friends in New York;
and I think the people there then was sumething like the primitive
Christians, going from house to house in fellowship one with another,
declaring the wonderfull works of God. Well, then, I am now going to
return to myself. I think it was in the beginning of January, in 1790,
when there was a meeting set up caled the "Select Bands," meant for
those that was sanctified, and those believers that was pressing hard
after it might join if they pleased. So I think there was aboute twenty
that perfess sanctification joined, and aboute ten more that was crying
after it. I think that was a scool indeed, to hear so many sensible men
and women to stand up to tell of their experience from the beginning to
the presant, and I never was a greater wonder to myself than to be
permitted amongst such people, as I was the youngest in the way and the
moste ignorant of them all. So I still continued in all the
ordinesses,[44] using not less secreat prayer than when I begun to seek
the Lord, my soul moste times in a blaze of prayer.

I think it was in aboute the middle of Jan^{y.} when I went one morning
to the preachar's house in C^{o.} with Mr. Coopar, where there was
sevrall of the leaders, consulting where they should hold prayer
meetings, and how they should car[45] them on. I went home to my
lodgings, and seating by the fire I begun first to reason, saying,
"Everyone is imployed, all have sume thing to do exepting me, and I am
good for nothing, no use to society, but as a dead dog in the way."

Well, then, as I was a long time in expectation to have remittance from
home, my money being done, and being in debt about 38 shillings for my
board, I said to my creditor, "I have gave up all hope of having any
money from home, I muste begin to work aboute sumething, but what or
where I know not. If I work in town the people will brand me for a
decever, as I have said I have sume property and sent home for sume, so
I fear it would much hurt the cause of Christ. I should be glad to have
your advice in the case." He answered, "What you owes me is but a
trifal, you need not go anywhere to work on my account. You are welcome
to stay a month or two longer, perhaps your money will come; and if not,
do not make yourself uneasy aboute it." But, however, my friend Hodgson
aboute that time went upon Long Island to live, so that I spoke to him
for lodgings and went with him, thinking I should be out of the way of
censure. So the 12 of June I car'd my little sea bed there, and laid it
in one corner of his room as he had nither steed[46] for me; so the
next morning, being 13, went to work to a farmer aboute a mile and a
half from the little town where I lived, and was sent to the field to
hoe Indian corn in company with a <DW64>. The work was very strange unto
me, but soon after begun fell into discourse with him, and I rejoiced to
hear he belonged to New York society. We worked the forenoon in the
field together, where I was pleased and profited with his conversation;
the afternoon being hard rain, we worked shifting of straw, etc., in the
barn, when come the farmer, as I could not mow hay, etc., paid me my
wages, and directed me in my way home to a cousin of his, whom I caled
upon, and he told me to come the next morning. Accordingly I did so, who
sent me in a field to do the same work, when aboute seven or eight
o'clock I was joined with a man to work with me, who was part owner of
the field. I worked until breakfast time, when I was caled in to
breakfast. I could eate nothing, but drink a little milk, the same to
dinner. The man that worked with me, as he could do much more work than
me, desired me not to work to hard, but by three or four o'clock the
blood was running between my fingers, and my body so weak, all moste
ready to drop down. The man that was with me asked me no questions
consarning who or what was, but a little before we left work went to a
publick house and brought me a little rum and water, and desired me to
drink again and again. I gladly took a very little of it, and should
have taken more, but I thought, as he know me to be a methodist, he did
it in order to trap me; but I saw after the man had no such desire, so I
gladly received it with thankfullness both to God and him. So I went
home rambling, with a tired body, as one that was much intoxicated. The
next morning went to the same place again, but wore gloves to hide my
bleeding hands; and as their hours was from aboute sun rising, and stop
a little to breakfast and dinner, and work until sun set, and as my body
was wasted and weakened before with much fasting and abstinence, and
had hardly dirted my finger scarcely for nearley twenty years before, my
body was allmoste ready to crush under the burden. Oh, what a change was
this indeed! And as I used before to pray not less than twelve times in
a day in secreat, I had no opertunity at that time but a few minuts
before I went to work, and find a little house or sume bye corner to
breackfast and dinner; and when I got home in the evning, where the
family was allmoste ready to go to bed. But I can realy say, to the
glory of God, I never was so happy in all my life as I was at that
_time_. So I staid there two or three days to finish that _job_, and
after put in a field to work to myself some _distance_ from the house,
and furder[47] from my home, where my employer told me, "You may lodge
here if you will." I gladly accepted the offer, and the first night I
was took into a room in one end of the farm house and showed my bed,
where there was an old <DW64> woman, and a little black boy with her. I
looked at my bed, the room, and my company, and I think I never saw a
meaner bed in all the course of my life. Stripped of my clothes and
turned in, in full expectation that they was going to sleep with me, as
I saw no other bed or place else for them. But whilst I was thinking of
this, I saw there in one cornar of the room a little ladder, where they
both went up together. I was there, I think, three or four days in that
field to myself, and I think it was the second day, aboute eleven
o'clock, I stood in the field and leaned upon my hoe, and could not tell
whether I should drop down under my burthen or stand any longer, the sun
allmoste over my head, the wind very little, and took hardely anything
to sustain nature. And I worked harder than perhaps I was required to,
and that for two reasons--the one for fear that they should know I was a
broken _gen_telman, and if known, I should not have work to _do_. _The_
other, I must do justice unto my employer. Wilst I was thus at a stand,
calling to the L_ord_ for help, I saw a light shone brighter then the
light of the sun, that filled me with such faith and love, I went on
again like a giant refreshed with new wine, praising and blessing of
God. Oh, what happy times I had every moment. After I had done the
field, he had no work more for me, so I returned home and got work a day
or two in a place. I keept all what I feeled to myself, no murmuring, no
complaining; but when my dear friends in New York come to hear of it,
they agreed together to contribute to my maintenance, and take me off
from there, and sent me word to be home one day, as they were coming to
see me. Accordingly the day came, when six or seven women come according
to promise, and after sume conversation opened their business, but in a
very feeling manner. I thanked them, and said "I surely am not too good
to work; I have read of sume that have worked for their own bread that I
am unworthy to wipe their shoes or snuff their candle." So we passed the
afternoon together in singing and praying. I saw them to the boate,
where they made me promise not to fail to come to see them every Sunday,
and, if possible, Saturday night.

After three or four days, working a day in a place, I went to work with
a farmer near the place I worked before, where I went to hoe Indian corn
with five or six negero slaves. They behaved unto me very civil indeed,
desired me not to work too hard; and as the poorest workman amongst them
could far out do me and do my best, but one or other allwayse helped me
on, so that I kept _close_ up with them. I was, as well as I can
remem_ber_, with them six or seven days, and that time sleeped in a hay
loft.[48] My suffering was not all over, as yet; I could eate very
little, and in the morning, when I went to work, allmoste so sore and so
tired as in the evning; and I could hardly say I could sleep at all, at
times just forget myself only. All this time nither master nor any man
ever asked me who or what I was, they only know I was an English man.
They all treated me very civily, and when they had done with me they
would ask me my demands. My answer was, "What you please"; so they
allwayse gave me the same as another common labourer. Aboute this time I
was asked to go with a mason to repair a mill dam; it was to be repaired
with turf, and I had a small flatt bottam boat to carry the turf across
the pool. So I went with him upon this conditions, if I could do the
work, to give me what he pleased. I expected at first he was to be
allwayse with me, but just showed me my work and left me to myself, only
sume times come to see me, once in the course of two or three days. I
then lodged and boarded myself to freind Hodgson's. The place was in a
bottam,[49] in mirey ground, and the weather very hot, that the sweat
would run over me in large drops, as if any person was heaving water
upon me. I think I went to work about sun rising in the morning, I
supose aboute five o'clock, stop aboute half hour to breakfast, _only_
an hour to dinner, and then work until sun set, I supose aboute seven.
My breakfast and dinner was a piece of bread I card with me, and I went
to a farm house for a little milk. When my employer come to see me, he
would moste times bring with him a little rum and a cup, and as there
was a will[50] close by, "Come," said he, "rest yourself a little; let
us go and have a drink together." What a change indeed was workd upon
me; before time, when I was, as it were, a gentelman, I could not tuch a
dram before dinner upon any account. But then how glad and how thankfull
I was to receive it. But after the first fortnight or three weeks my
bones was become a little more hardened, my sufferings was not
alltogether so much, and I have thought many a times when my sufferings
was to the greatest, that if it was the will of Providence I would
gladly continue in the same all the days of my life. So every Sabbath
day I went to New York to see my friends in the morning and return back
again in the evning.

I think it was in the later end of July when Mr. Dawson, one of them
English men I before mentioned that came from the County of Durham, came
over to inform me that if I would go home there was a vessel that would
be ready in the course _of_ a week's time, and he was going to England.
I th_anked_ him and went to New York, and asked the advice of my
friends. They all, as the voice of one man, said, "Surely this is the
Lord's doing; go, the Lord will be with you. We believe that it will not
be in the power of man to hurt you, but you must not think it strange if
you receive strong tryals from the Captain." The Captain was an English
man that come there from the West Indies, and had been in town for, I
suppose, six or seven weeks; a man that did profess Religion, and did at
times stand up in publick as a preacher, but of Calvinist principles.
And as I know him before, I went and asked him for a passage, then
fully believing it was my duty, and I thought I could trust the Lord
with my both soul and body. So he was quite agreeable, and then, as I
was not acquainted with the man, opened all my mind unto him,
notwithstanding for all the hints I had concarning him before. So he
asked me if I was a navigator, and if I could work, etc. I answered I
had my quadrant and books with me. So I agreed with him to be landed in
Mounts Bay, or close to the East of the Lizard Point, and then returned
back to Long Island, and told my employer I was going at home. He
desired me to stay a few days longer with him to finish the job, to
which I consented. And I think aboute the 3 or 4 of august, when we
settled our accounts, he paid me very handsomely. I returned to New
York. I paid off all my debts and bought myself sevrall little
_seafar_ing clothes for the voyage, and I think I had four pence in
_coppe_rs left. Well, then, here was a change in deed--from _such_ hard
labour to ease again. So I staid there with my dear friends, going from
house to house as before. I think I was allwayse rejoicing and praysing
of God, and still using the same self-denial by abstaining from food as
before time, and not only then, but allso when I was to my hardest
labour. I staid there until the 13 August, when took breakfast with my
old and first friend the glasar, and after breakfast he took a dollar
out of his pocket and said, "I insist on you to accept of it." I thanked
him, and I took it, so went on board, and that day got to an anchor in
Sandyhook, and the next morn sailed for England with a fair wind and
fair weather. The vessel was a small sloop aboute 40 tons,[51] bought by
the Captain then in New York, but the papars draw'd in the mate's name,
under cover him being an American. The cargo was coopers' timber, and
the whole crew was the Captain, mate, two boys, Mr. Dawson, and myself.
I keept one watch with the biggest boy, I suppose aboute 16 or 17 years
old; and the mate keept the other watch with the other boy, I suppose
aboute 13 or 14 year old. We was not more then a day or two at sea
until Satan begun to rage and roar. The Captain set his face against me.
Try my best I could do nothing to please him. He pretended to know all
things, but did hardly know anything of the sea or business. Then I
thought of what I was told by my friends in New York, so that I was not
the leaste disappointed. I acted in the capacity of steward and as cabin
boy, to bring all things to his hand as a gentelman, and if there were
anything short I stayed without it; so that I had plenty to do to try to
please him, besides keep my regular watch on deck night and day. We had
a fair wind until we came upon the banks of Newfoundland. Then the wind
took us ahead and blow fresh; for a little time the vessel made some
water upon one tack. He said, "We will bear up for Boston." I think, for
all he was a professor of Religion, I never saw a man more afraid of his
life in all my life. I thought that if we put in to Boston I never
should fetch home in that vessel. I opposed him, and said, "There is no
danger, I will engage to keep the pump in my watch." Mr. Dawson said, "I
will keep it in the other," tho' he know nothing of the sea. The mate
then joined us, and amongst us all gained our point, so that soon after
we had a fair wind again.

We had moste times publick prayers in the morning, sume times Mr. Dawson
and sume times him, but still continued with his face set against me,
and poor Mr. Dawson dare not speak one word in my favour, as he was full
so much afraid of him as I was. And the two poor boys, I think in the
hardness of my times it never was in my power to treat two dogs as he
treated them. So one day, after we come into soundings, I said, "The
Land's End bears so and so, it is time for you to alter your course if
you land me there." So as he pretended to keep a reckning he said to the
contrary, but never let us see his journal, the mate and me, within two
or three miles of each other,[52] so that I thought he had no mind to
land me in the Mounts Bay, according to promise, the weather being fair.
Saw a sail, and as it was not the first time by many, said to me, as I
had the helm, "Bear down to speak with him." I did so. He said, "Keep
her so and so." I said, "Sir, if you keep her so, you never will speak
with him." He begun to belch out, "What is that to thee? I say keep her
so." So as I had given up all hope of being landed there, I thought it
was time to take a little courage. I left go the helm, and said, "Keep
her so your self, if you please," and I immediately went below and
turned in in my cabin. In the course of a little time he came down and
said sume thing to me in a very surly manner. I answered, "Sir, you have
not behaved unto me as a man since I have been with you. I have answered
every end I engaged with you for, and much more so, and now I see you
are entirely off your word with me, as you know you was to land me in
the Mounts Bay, or a little to the East of the Lizard." He begun to bale
out, "Thou doste profess the spirit of Christe, but thou haste the
spirit of the devil," and so on in a great rage, my poor friend Dawson
presant fearing and trembling but dare not speak one word; and I have
thought that good man suffered during the voyage much more on my account
than I did myself. So I did not render railing for railing, said
nothing, or very little more. This was in the evning, and in the course
of aboute half hour after, when he come to himself, he came to me and
said in a very good humour, "I should be glad if you would turn out and
come on deck, I wants to speak with you." So he took me forward on the
bow out of the sight and hearing of any person, and said sumething to
this purpose: "I hope you'll think nothing of all that is past, and I am
going to tell you why I cannot be to my word with you to land you in the
Mounts Bay. I sarved my time to a hatter in London, and as there was a
brig there loaden with hats and other goods, I took her away under the
pretence of being supercargo, etc., unknown to the owners. I sold the
vessel and cargo in the West Indies, bought the sloop you see me come to
New York in, sold that sloop there, and bought what we are in at
present. I told you and others I was bound to London, but I meant to go
to Dunkerk and send for my wife to London. I mean to sell my cargo and
then to return to New York again, for if I am known in any part of
England I shall be apprehended and hanged. So now lett me beg you to
keep it a secret. And I have the favour likewayse, as you know there is
no draft for the Channel on board, I knows nothing of the Channel, and
the mate quite unacquainted, let me beg you to do your best to car the
vessel to Dunkerk." I answered, "I will do everything in my powar," etc.
These was the tener of our discourse, etc. So that when he had finished,
I thought I was allmoste lost in wonder and astonishement. I thought my
case was bad, but his tenthousands times worse. So I turned to work
again with a willing mind, knowing nothing should happen unto me
against the knowledge of God, nither without his permision, and I
believed all things should work together for my good, and so went on my
way, rejoicing and praising of God.

The weather still very fair and a fair wind. The next morning saw the
Start Point, and so made the best of our way up Channel. When came a
little to the west of Folston,[53] Mr. Dawson was put onshore, to go to
London in order to fetch the Capt^{ns.} wife to him to Dunkerk, and soon
after fell in with a fleet of West Indiamen, with sevral cutters and
frigats, with their boats out, bring them to to press their men, as at
that time there was a little quarrel between the Spanyards and English.
We passed through them all with our American coulers set, expecting to
be brought to every moment; and as I was the only Englishman onboard,
the Capt^{n.} advised me to hide myself in the bread locker. But I
thought, if they had come on board and found me, I must be gone; so I
thought if it was the will of Providence that I should be pressed, let
his will be done; and I thought if they should come on board and ask me
if I was an Englishman, I should say nothing to the contrary. That if I
was stationed on the tops, or anywhere else, God would be with me, and
all things should work together for my good. The same day, aboute three
or four o'clock, got close in to Calais, where we took a pilot for
Dunkerk the same evning, on the 16 September in '90. And as we went up
the harbar I saw in a brig's starn, I think, the "Bettsey, Truro." I
thought if there was any place caled by that name out of Cornwal, but
the next day, as the Capt^{n.} and I was so great he could then not go
onshore without me, neither eate nor drink without me, I was then with
him as it were all and in all. It was a great chainge indeed, whether
through fear or love I know not. So the next day I, as a complement,
asked him to go on board with me to see what the brig was. So it proved
to be from Truro, from Petersborg, loaden with hemp and iron, there
wind bound, and bound to Daniel's Point[54] the first fair wind; and as
I did not want to make myself known unto him as an Englishman, I thought
I would lett him know that I know some jentelmen at Falmouth, and after
a little discourse sume in Penzance; so after a while, he naming of one
and another until he come home to our family, and added, "Poor felows,
they have had a great many and very great misfortings of late years.
Harry, poor felow, lost a valuable lugger, with a valuable cargo, and
was obliged to leave his Country, being taken with sume manawar's boat.
I saw him in Leghorn, dined and supped with him, and from there he went
to America. I have not heard anything concarning him since; whether he
is dead or alive, I know not, poor felow." So at laste I said, "I am the
man, and I desire the favour of you to give me a passage home." He
stared like a man frightened, and said, "I never saw such chainge on any
man in my life, and I had no more knoledge of you no more then if I
never saw you. Anything in my powar I will gladly do for you. Do you
want money, or anything else? You'l make free with me. I am sorry I
cannot take you to sleep with me, as the cabin is full of hemp, etc. Be
not afraid of being pressed, as all my men is protected, but you shall
not be pressed unless they press me also." Here I was loste in wonder,
love, and praise, seeing how I was presarved the day before from a
manofwar, and I looked upon this as if the Lord had worked a merical to
send the brig there as if it was on purpose for me.

The Capt^{n.} used that trade for sume time, but never put into any
harbour in France before, but now struck upon a sand bank, and put in
there to be repeared, as he had receved sume damage, etc. Well, then I
could but only wonder and adore the goodness of God, shorley his paths
is in the deep and his ways past finding out. So then I returned again
to my little sloop. I staid in Dunkerk eleven days, then sailed for
England, arrived at Daniel's Point the 1 Oct^{r.} The same night,
aboute nine o'clock, arrived home to Kenneggy,[55] to B^{r.} Charles's.
So I was received as one rison from the dead, as they know nothing of my
coming home, nither had heard from me for aboute twelve months. So after
a little I related what cause I had to come, and after I had settled my
business I was minding[56] to return to New York again. He said, "I will
send for our brothers in the morning, and praps we may find sumething
other wayse." So earley in the morning they come, and said, "If you go
to America again we shall never see you more; we think you may stay at
home in safety, there is no person will meddle with you, but we advise
you first to go aboute this neighberhood as publick as you please, where
you are well known, but shun the towns, and after a few days there will
no person take notice of you."

I very gladly consented to what they said, this being on saturday. First
went to the King's Cove to see the Cove boys, and for all I was not
more than aboute two years from them, not one of them know me until they
heard me speak. The next morning being the sabbath, went to Trevean[57]
to preaching, where I had a blessed time indeed. After preching I was
surounded with allmoste all the congregation. Every one glad to see me,
but in particular the methodists, as they heard before that there was a
chainge of mind passed upon me. This made me to wonder and adore the
goodness of God unto me, as I did not expect to see any person when I
came home but only my own family. This was a wonder indeed to think I
was once more returned to my native country, amongse my own family,
friends, and the people of God. Well, then, after atending the preaching
and meetings a few times was desired to give out a hymn and speak in
prayer, but at first I refused, as I did not exercise in that way before
I come home, only at times I was sent to visit the sick with Father
Cooper when he could not attend himself. So I refused, but after
suffered great pain of mind, so that at laste I took up the cross with
much fear and trembling, and immediately went aboute like a town crier,
telling the people what the Lord had done for my soul.

See what a chainge was here taken place; a little while before labouring
in the fields with the poor <DW64>s, and used like a slave, and looked
upon with contempt on the greatest part of my passage home; so now I had
nothing to do with the world, all things was provided for me, so that in
a little time the congregation begin to increase greately, and prayer
meetings set on in many defrant places; so, as far as I can remember, in
the course of eight or nine weeks there was a great number of men,
women, and children converted. Our meeting seem to be all in confusion,
sume praying, sume singing, sume crying, sume praising and blessing of
God. We have staid in the house sume times from twelve until three
o'clock in the morning. My heart at that time, with every powar of my
soul, was fully engaged in the work; one time in particular, I trust I
shall never for get it, in prayer in the after meeting, I think Mr.
Wacktings was the preacher, whether in the body or out of the body I
could harely tell. It was just the same as it was in New York, and car'd
on in the same manner. At the first sume of the old members would not
owned it to be of God, as it was so much out of the comman way, wilst
many others put their shoulders to the work, and, praise be to God,
aboute this time I do remember my soul through mercy was got just in the
same tune as it was in New York. I declard at that time to sevral old
members consarning my thoughts. Sume would give me great incoregement,
wilst other would try to drive me back. I mentioned this, if ever this
should be published, which in all probability it will not, for thou, my
young Reader, to take care who to declare thy mind to, for it is not
evry old prefessor that knoweth moste of the things of God, but in the
genral him who's soul is most alive to God. So as I was but as a babe
in the way, I still wanted to be teached in the ways of God, and I fell
in company with John Bettens, to whom I opened my mind freely. I have
thought many times since I never found such faith, no, not in all the
men I ever talked with. Well, then, I was not confined to Trevean house
only, but I went aboute all through the country. But no place where I
was asked where the housen was not full of people, and sume would not
contain all the people. Shorley I was a wonder to myself, and in genral
I found great freedom to speak to the people in my simple way. I
remember once I went about eight or nine miles from home, and as I came
to the door where I was expected, a young man came out and said, "Are
you Captain Harry Carter?" I answered, "My name is Henry Carter." He
said, "We have been expecting of you, for it is given out for you to
preach to-night." When I heard of the name preach, I was struck with
such fear and trembling, I could not tel whether it was best to return
home again or stay there. So I went in, and the good man received me
very kindly, and when the time came took me to the chaple, where it was
so full the people could harley stand. Sume that know nothing of
preaching caled it preaching, but I never presumed to take a text, but
laid a little foundation as a text in disguise, so that I had room to
ramble. But it was not for what I could say only that the housen was so
full of people, but it was like the Jews of old, came not to see Jesus
only, but Lazreth[58] also. Where I was not known before, they heard of
me, and they believed that there was a great chainge upon me. I think
the people believed I was really what I professed to be, but many times
after I had been speaking, so dejected in my own mind, wishing that I
may stand up no more, for it was seldam a day passed but what I had
doubts whether I was cal'd or not, and I was much afraid to run before I
was sent. And likewayse the cross was so great, I have often[59] thought
if the people knew what I suffered, they never would ask me to exercise
in that way at all. Oh, how I did tremble and sweat just as the time
were come. Well, then, still the work of God continued to go on in
Trevean society, and lively meetings all through this neighberhood.

I think it was in Febury, in 1791, or a little before, when the work in
Trevean begun in sume degree to sease, but still blessed times; and I
think it was in the later end of March or the begining of April I was
sent for by a great man of this neighberhood, he wanted to speak with
me. Accordingly I went, and the business was as follows--saying, "I was
in Helston a such a day in company with three jentelmen" (mentioned
their names); "they all ware black coats. Looking out through the
window, a methodist preacher went up street. One said, 'There is a
methodist prechar.' Another answerd, 'I wonder how Harry Carter goes
aboute so publick apreching and Law[60] against him; I wonder how he is
not aprended and taken.' So I sent for you, as I fear they are brewing
of mischief against you." "Well, sir," said I, "what do you think I am
best to do?" He said, "I know they cannot hurt you no further then if
you are taken you may suffer a long time in prison, and it may cost you
a good deal of money, etc. I think you are better, to prevent danger, to
return to America again." This was the tenar of his advice, and added,
"If you go there I will give you, as I _think_ he called it, a lett of
recomedation from Lord ----, which, I think, may be very usefull to you,
or anything else in my powar shall not be wanting." And as the jent was
well acquainted with our family, I dined with him, and he brought me
aboute a mile in my way home, so I parted with him, fully determning in
my own mind to soon see my dear friends in New York again. So I told my
brothers what the news was, and that I was meaning to take the jent's
advice. They answered, "If you go to America we never shall see you no
more. We are meaning to car on a little trade in Roscoff in the brandy
and gin way, and if you will go there you'l be as safe there as in
America; likewayse, we shall pay you for your comision, and you car on a
little business for your self, if you please." So that with prayer and
supplication I made my request known unto God. I still continued to walk
in the same rigrous self _denial as before_, abstaining _fro_m food,
etc. Well, then, with much fear and trembling I concluded to go. The
greatest tryal I had aboute going, I know there was no religious people
there, and sume times in fears I should be lead away into the world
again. I know I was going un slepry ground, but, glory be to God, I know
his grace was sufficient for me. So at the 19 of April, in '91, I saild
in an open boat from the King's Cove, in company with a merchant that
had business there, so that after fifteen hours' passage arived there
very safe, still in the same frame of mind. I lodged at a publick house,
I think, two days, and as the merchant had business to Morlaix, desired
me to go with him, where I staid there aboute ten or twelve days, and
returned again back to Roscoff. I keept myself to myself as much as
posable. Well, then, I went to privat lodgings and eate and drunk to
myself; and as I had no business to do, I was allmoste all the time to
myself day and night, still walking in the same _self deni_al as first.
I _would not_ allow myself but four hours in bed, so continued, as well
as I think, for six or seven days, but I found I had not sleep enough,
as aboute noon I have fallen asleep upon the book, so I added a little
longer time. I have often times since thought how dead I was then to all
below. There was a house burned under the same roof where I lodged
little before, and I had to go in and out right before the same house;
and after I was there aboute a furtnight I hard sume people talking
aboute the dredfull fire, and what great loste sume had sustained. I
asked, "What fire?" They said, "Next door." I made no other answer, for
I was really ashamed; what they thought of me I know not. So after I
looked, and saw moste of the walls standin, but without windows and
door, and the walls smoked quite black.

Well, then, I did not pray in secret less than I did before, I suppose
never less than ten times in a day, and in fore and afternoon walked a
little out of town in so solitary place as I could find, out of sight of
all men. In genral I went on the cleavs,[61] wher no eye saw me, and
there sing, that I may be heard for I supose a mile distance, and pass,
I think, aboute two hours and half fore noon and after noon in reading,
praying, singing, and then return home. Aboute this time I made a linen
girdle to go aboute my loins inside my shirt. _Tied it_ tite--I thought
I might be able to live upon _less food_ and my sp_irit_ would be more
vigorous in the wayse of good. I continued on for, as I think, aboute
two days, found it quite disagrable, and so left it off. I passed
allmoste all my time to myself; in my going out and coming in I went the
byest roads, because I wanted to see no person; and if I meet any
person in the way, it was a great cross to me to enter in to any
conversation more than just the time of the day, for fear to obstroct my
communan with God. I think then I watched over all my thoughts as well
as words and acktens.[62] I think there did not the least thought pass
my mind unperseved; my mind then was like a fisherman's net, I sav'd the
good but heaved away the bad.

Well, then, I went on still in this way until I think aboute the
beginning of August, when I went on with a little business in the shop
way, and aboute the same time Captain B. came there, an old acquaintance
of mine, being the first Captain I sailed with, a man of what we calls
good morels. I meet him one Sabbath morning as I was walking out, and
after a little conversation I said, "This is a poor place for the
publick worship of God; if I was at home now I should be at Trevean
preaching." He answered, "Why don't you stand up here and say something
to the people?" So as I thought he was making game of me, I answered,
"Who will hear me?" He said, "I will hear you, and I suppose most of the
English men in town." So the next Sabbath morning meet with him again on
nearly the same ground. He repeated unto me nearley the same thing
again, saying, "All the English in town will gladly hear you," or to
that purpose. So then I thought he was in earnest, and I left him with
much fear and trembling, and immediately went to ask counsel from the
mouth of the Lord, so that spent the remainder of that fore noon in pray
and supplication, and for fear I should run before I was sent, I set
this as a mark, that after diner I would go on the pier, and if I meet
first a such a man, who was master of one of the vessels that was there,
I should perpose the matter unto him, and if agreable, I should shorly
think it to be the will of God consarning me. So aboute one o'clock I
roase up from my knees and went on the pier, and the first man I meet
with was the very same man, so with much fear and trembling I opened the
business unto him of what Captain B. and I was talking of. He readily
replyed, "I'll come, and I will tell all the people of it, I suppose
they will all come." So him and me perposed the time of meeting, I think
it was four o'clock. So he, like a town cryar, beat the alarm, and after
I left him, oh, how my poor _head was_ destracted, a s_uch_ p_o_or
i_gnorant_ _sou_l as I was to take such a thing upon me; shorley I shall
be a by word and reproach with the French, and a mocking and lafing
stock to all the English. And another was, what can I say to the people?
as when I was at home there was mornars to comfart, weak belevers to
build up, sanctification to impress upon the people's minds, and now
only _sinners_, etc., to talk to. So that my poor mind was so full of
distraction I could harly tell what to do; but as I had gone so far as
to perpose it, I could not go from it. Well, then, according to the time
perposed, the same afternoon, in came Captain B. with I suppose about
twenty or thirty, I suppose nearly all the Inglish men in the town, took
off their hats, and seat themselves down, so that I begun to tremble
and sweat, I could scarcely hold the hymn book in both hands. Gave out
a verse, and begun to sing myself, and praise be to God, before I sung
the second verse I found life coming, and before I went to prayer the
cross was all gone, so that I found very great liberty in prayer; so
that when I roase from my knees I was surprised to see so many hard
harts to their knees, so that I found much curage to go on in my poor
simple way. I found uncoman degree of liberty, and the people all
listoned with the greatest attention, and after I dismised the people
with singing and prayer. So after they were gone, I was still jealous
that they would turn what I said into ridicule, and as I had a back
window that I could see the greatest part of the pier, watched them, and
they all went on board as quiat as Christians of the first magnitude
might be expected. The Lord doth only know if there was any good done or
not. So I continued for eight or nine months every night when there was
Englishmen there. I think it was in the beginning of the month of may
'92, when three of my brother's children come to life with me, Fra^{s.},
Henry, and Joanna Carter, and staid with me until the beginning of
Sept^{r.}, when I was like a hermit to myself as before. I think it was
in the beginning of Oct^{r.} when three large cuttars, Captain Scott one
of them, came in here wind bound from Guarnsey; and as I went into the
house on sume buisiness where they put up to, saw one of their sailors
that did formely sail with me. I asked him to come to my house, sayin I
could treate him with a glass of grogg, and if them three or four men
that was presant would come with him, I should be glad to see them also.
That was in the evning. I was not home as I think more than fifteen or
twenty minits until he came in with four or five with him, and in a few
minits after allmoste the house full with their three Captains. Then I
thought what they come for, and as they took me in surprise, as I had
not the least thoughts to say anything, I begun to tremble and run
upstairs to call for help from the Lord. I suppose I might have been
there eight or ten minits, and as I was coming down I meet one in the
stairs, saying, "If you don't come down the people will all be gone." So
with much trembling and sweating I took the Hymn Book and begun to sing
to myself, as I did the first time. I found great liberty in prayer, and
after thundred out the tretnings, cryed aloude, spar'd not. They all
behaved very well, seemed to listen with great atention. So after we
concluded the meeting, I asked the Captains and sume of the men to seat
down, so they stayed with sume more of their people, I suppose more than
an hour, all very seryous, no laffing, no trifling conversation. They
took sume thing to drink, shook hands, and wished good night. Prayse be
to God, I was shorly a wonder to myself in deed. So the next morning him
that had sailed with me before come in laffing, saying one of his
shepmates told him that how could that ould man know his thoughts, for
he told him allmoste all that ever he did in his life. I think they
sailed the next day, and two of them being in company in a gale of
wind, one of them disapeared, and have never been heard of since.
Captain Scott showed me great kindness ever after; he sent a luggar
there after to be laid up, with, I think, six or eight men on board, who
ordered them to take all what they wanted of me, and likewayse
recemended all his friends unto me for what they wanted.

Well, then, aboute the later end of Nov^{r.} I got a passage to come
home not only to see my family friends, but my spiritual friends also. I
can still see, glory be to God, I was still hungring and thirsting after
him. I thought before I come home, if I could be permitted to come into
preaching housen dors, I should be very happy, but praise be to God, I
had rather the right hand of felowship given me, the preaching houses
full of people where I was expected, as before. I staid at home until 24
Dec^{r.}, and as the war seemed to be near at hand between the Franch
and Inglish, inbarked at Coverack, on board Captain R. John's. I had a
blessed time in company with my dear freinds there, two or three day
wind bound. Arived at Roscoff, Christmas day in the morning, 1 Jan^{y.}
1793, oh, how short I comes in all things of what I would wish or
ought[63] to have been. There was no talk of war when I arived there,
all was quiat as when I left the place. I found my house, etc., just as
I left it. I was then to myself as before, I went home like a hermat or
a king blessing and praising of God. I continued to walk in the same
self-denial. I sent off moste of my goods to Gurnsey, sold sume there,
and keept sume, what the law would alow me to bring home, as I was
promised that a vessel should be sent to bring me home. So I think
Feb^{y.} 2[64] there was an embargo lade on all English vessels, and war
declard between the boath Kingdoms. I think it was in the latter end of
March when I was sent to Morlaix as a prisnor, not close confined, but
to apear every morning to the town house to sine my name. I was there
nine or ten days, when I was ordered back to Roscoff again. Things at
that time looked very gloomey, but glory be to God, I was not the lease
afraid of all the lyons in France. I could trust boath soul and body in
the hands of my Redemer, no mormring, no complaining, the language of my
heart was continualy, "Good is the will of the Lord, may thy will be
done." I staid in Roscoff nine or ten days, when I was ordered again to
Morlaix in company with Mr. and Mrs. _McCullock_ and Mr. _Clansie_. I
think in the beginning of May was sent back again to Roscoff, Mr. M. and
Mr. C. in Roscoff the same time, where we was all obliged to go to the
town house every day to sine our names. So continued untel the beginning
of August, when we got a passport in order to come home. In the course
of this time, wilst in Morlaix, the same as at Roscoff, went to privat
lodgings. Walking still in the same rigrous selfdenial, etc. So as there
was no other way for us to come home, M. Macculloh bought a small
vessel, aboute 40 tons, and boute the seven or eight hauled the vessel
out in the Sadie Rock Road, and got all things on board ready for sea,
when there was orders from the town house with a corvet's armed boat,
ordered us in to the pier again. And this was Provedence indeed. Our
whole crew consist as follows: Mr. Macculloh was a jentleman marchant,
lived in that town many years before, a man of good property, etc.; Mrs.
Macculloh, two sons, one a man, the other aboute twelve years old, one
daughter, a young lady aboute eighteen or twenty years old, one sarvant
man, two sarvant maidens, Mr. Clansice, and myself, ten in number in
all. And we concluded before, that the old jentlman and me was all the
sailors, there was not one of the other eight that in no case could help
themselves. The four females was sent onshore to Mr. M.'s house, all the
rest of us keept on board with a gard of soldars for three days and
three nights, the wind blowing very hard tho' fair. This vessel was
condemed for sea for sume time before, so that in the cource of three
days we had time to overhaul her, and I think I may safely say that
there was scores of graving pieces in her not bigger then a man's hand;
sume of the timbrs so rotton, that one might pick them off with one's
fingers, the sails, masts, etc., in the like state. We had hard rain
sume part of that three days, where we was so wett below nearley as upon
deck. The old jentleman have told me many times since, saying it was
Providence prevented us from sailing, had we sailed then we should all
be no more. You may be ready to ask, Why did we expose ourselves to so
much dainger? I answer, "This was the third pasport, and all
conterdicted, and glad to git out of the mouths of the lyons, as there
was no other way." So we was all sent on shore to Mr. M.'s house with a
gard of soldars to be keept at the dore, and the 15 of August, 1793, all
march'd to St. Paul's with a gard of soldars. I lodged and boarded in
the house with Mr. and Mrs. M., where I had a good room and bed to sleep
in, and a large garden to walk in. Now, I am going to inform you of sume
of the devices of Satan. One evning, whilst at suppar, seating by the
side of Mr. M., when it was sugested to my mind the same as if _one_ was
to speak to my outward ear blasfamys thoughts against my dear friend Mr.
M. At first it struck me all of alarm. Upon reflection I was shore they
were not my thoughts, for at that time, and before then, I know I never
loved my own father bettar, and after, when the gulenteen[65] begun to
work, I have thought many a times, should him be condemned, I would
gladely die in his steed. So after suppar took a walk in the gardon as
usual, where I begun to reason, saying, "Shorley if I was saved from
inbred sin, I should not feel such ugley thoughts as these and then
begin to doubt." But praise be unto God, he did not leve me to doubt for
harley a moment, but sent me down the Comfartar, so that all doubts
vanished away in a moment. So I went to seat in the summar house, and
begun to sing, that I suppose that I might be heard all over the town.
I suppose I shall never forgett that evning wilst in time, how my poor
_sou_l was delighted in God my Savour. Still went on in the same rigrous
selfdenial, but I could not fast then for fear to be taken notice of
with the family. I staid there until the 12 or 13 September, 1793, when
sume officers came, sent by the town house; so after they examined us
for money and papars, took us to the Town House, and after they measured
our height, and asked us many foolish questions, took us to a prison
caled the "Retreat," in the same town. We arived there a little after
night, were all of us showed our apartment to lodge in. I had a nice
little room to myself like a king. Here was another chainge, but a happy
one, the language of my heart was, "Good is the will of the Lord, may
Thy will be done." Nor could I help singing that night alowd when I went
into bed. We all had our pervision sent from the House we lodged before,
and after four or five days past, we was joined by sevral French gent.
and lades, and in aboute fourteen or fifteen days there was two armed
horsemen sent in the preson to take Mr. and Mrs. M. from us, no person
knowing where they were to be sent, but supposed they were to be sent to
a small uninhabited island, a little off Brest harbar, and there to be
starved to death. Oh, what tears and cries was there with their little
famely and many others. It was seldom I could shed tears, th_en I_ did
plenty, and after dried up my tears and cheard myself up, and then went
in to his room, where I found him alone packing up his clothes, etc. I
sat myself down in silance I supose for aboute ten minutes without one
word; whether him or me spoak first, I know not, but he said in his
usual plesant way to this purpas, "I fear not what man can do unto me. I
can trust in Providence and not be afraid," which set my heart all on
fire with love; I could give them both up unto God, shorley beleving I
should see them again. The remainder of the day was a solam day unto me
in deed, but a day of mourning through the whole house; after this there
did seldam a day pass but what sume Jentmen and Ladis was brought to
join us, and in the beginning of Nov. 1793 the lady I boarded with and
sume of her famely was brought to us. I used sett times for reading,
praying, walking, and thinking, as I did before when I was at liberty,
and keept allmoste all the time to myself, I went to bed aboute ten or
half past, and got up as soon as I could see daylight in the morning;
and as the weather begun to alter, juste to run in the garden aboute
half hour in the fore noon, and the same in the after noon. At first the
people thought I was ither a natural fool or else mad, but my friend
Clansie gave them an account of what kind of being I was. Aboute this
time I had word brought me, that all my goods _I left_ in Roscoff was
condemed and sold, I suppose they might have been to the amount of L40.
I rejoiced with great joy when I heard of it, saying the Lord's will be
done, knowing all things should work twogether for good. It apears
clearley to me since that my will was wholy swallowed up in the will of
God; I think I was then shorley so dead to this world as ever I shall
be. Well, then, as the people begin to increase more and more evry day,
Mr. Clansice came with me in my little room. At first it was a great
cross to me, but soon after, the oftener I saw him the better, far
bettar I likt him, he ackted like a father, a brother, my tuter, my
sarvant. Glory be to God for such dear frends. He was a young jentelman
merchant, a man of great natural abilities, and I suppose brought up in
the first scools in Christendom. I knew his father and him from a child
before, but was little acquainted with him before we became prisonars
together, and I have thought many times since that there was not in the
whole world two such men as Mr. M. and he. About the 3 or 4 of Dec^{r.}
1793 a gard of soldars came into the prison and took with them my dear
friend C., Mr. T. Maccull, with a great number of French gintelemen and
ladis, so there was none of my family left, but Miss M. her dear little
brother, and the two sarvant maidens. I think such a scene as that I
never saw in all my life. I suppose there was not one dry face in all
the house, _either_ with men or whimin. There was not one _person_ that
know where they were to be sent to, but supposed they were all to be
sent upon the same Island with Mr. and Mrs. M., and there to be starved
to death. This was a day of mourning and lamentation indeed. I do not
know that I shed one tear, tho' it was a solamn day with me, still the
language of my heart was, "Good is the will of the Lord, may the Lord's
will be done." But the tryal was so great, the same as tearing the flesh
from the bones.

Aboute the 6 Dec^{r.} 1793, when a gard of soldars came to the preson,
and took away I suppose between thirty and forty prisnors, and me one of
them, where to go we knew not; but Provedence enterfered, and worked
upon a French jintelman's mind, so that he took Miss Maccu^{h.} and her
little brother, with the two maidens, to his own house, so that they had
all liberty to walk the town when they pleased. This was the cause of
great joy and gladness unto me. There was a few horses brought for the
old and infarm to ride--two, which one was put in my hands, and ordered
to ride it, with a charge to keep it to myself. We had aboute twelve
French miles to go, so we arived to Morlaex just after night, where, to
my agreable surprise, found dear C., Mr. T. M., and sume jint^{n.} of
Roscow, whome I know before. We rejoiced greately together, and then
they g_ave_ an account of Mr. and Mrs. Maccu^{h.}; they was put _from_
St. Paul's to a town caled Landernau, aboute twenty miles from S^{t.}
Paul's, in to a crimnal gaol, where the first night had nothing to lye
on but a little short dirty straw, and without one farding[66] of money
with them, and not one person in the town that they were acquainted
with, but in the morning was visited with sume jint^{n.} and lades, who
suplyed them with a bed, and brought them pervisian. So we rejoiced
greately together in telling and hearing. Here was a blessed chainge
again to me, to once more to be with my dear family at home again. This
place we was now in was a jentleman's house, all the family thrust out
and put into other prisons, and this house made a prison of. The house
was not large, but it was full of people below and aloft. I sleept in
one room, where there was fourteen beds, and there could not find the
least cornar to retire to myself but a little house. At that time it was
very cold, but I did not mind that. I could not stay there long to a
time, distorbed with one or other, as there was sixty or seventy
presoners there. I had not one farding of money, nor nither of our
family, but the law or rule was, by the order of the Convention, for the
rich to maintain the poor. So I think I was maintained by the publick
for two days, when my friend C. got credit for himself and me, from a
tavarn close by. What a great chainge this was again, all the day long
in nothing but a discord and noise. What a mercy it was I was not
d_raw_ed away by the multitude to do evil. I can see now at this moment
how I improved my time, how prechas every moment was, I had allwayse my
book in my pocket ready to hand if I could find any place to seat, and
sume times, when I could find no place to seat, stand to read. All the
people very civil to me, and in the beginning many of them introduced
their conversation; but I did not find it profatable, it sarved to block
the mind from prayer. Tho' I could understand and speak French on moste
common subjects, I soon gave them to think I know little or nothing, so
by that means I saved myself from a great deal of empty chatchat, so by
that means pass allmoste whole days, sume times without speaking very
little. I have often heard sume of the French gentlemen speaking very
high thing in my favour one to another, not knowing I could understand
them, and I think it had allwayse this efect to humble me as in to the
dust before God and before man. I was still watching over all my
thoughts with all my words and actions. I do realy now beleve that there
did not one thought pass through my mind unperseved in all my waking
moments, still living as under the immediate eye of God, walking in the
broad light of his countanance from moment to moment. I had left of
drinking of water from the year of '89 in America, but there was a well
close by the backdoor. I had _a_ tumblar glass where I went sume times,
and _filled a_ glass with water, and look at it again and again. Oh, how
my heart would burn with love and thankfulness to God. Aboute a week
after I was there, I had a book given me by a French gent that spoak
English, caled "The Sinner's Guide," pen'd by a Spanyard, but translated
in English. The name of the gen^{t.} that gave it me was Mr. Lereu,
which proved a great blessing to me indeed.

25 Dec^{r.}, or Christmas day, 1793, Mr. T. M. and Mr. S. was taken from
us, and put to a town caled Carhay,[67] aboute thirty miles from
Morlaix, and there they joined Mr. and Mrs. Maccu^{h.}; all the rest of
us was moved to another Jen^{t.} house, a few dors off, where we had
more room, etc., Mr. C. and me still left together. The first thing I
allwayse lookt for first was a place to go in secret, and my friend C.
would allwayse look out for a place for himself and me to sleep in. I
found a nice _little_ place in the garat, with sume old mats and other
things I so inclosed, that it would just hold me to my knees, with my
feet out of sight, where I might stay so long as I pleased, and no
person distorb me. This was a blessed chainge again. I sleept in a room
with ten or twelve gent^{m.}, went to bed at ten o'clock, got up in the
morning at five, _spent an_ hour to myself, and at six went down stairs,
_and sat by_ the fire with the old men that garded _the house_. To read,
etc., until about half past seven or eight, when I should retire to my
little garat until nine, when I should come down, make my bed, and run
or walk in a large room until ten, and then retire again to my garat
until one o'clock, when I was caled to dinnar. After dinnar, aboute two,
I retired to my garat and stay there until half past three, come down
and run in the room until four, then retire, and stay there until aboute
seven or eight, stay down aboute half hour, and then pass in the garat
until ten, bed time. There was a small window in the garat aboute a foot
square, without glass, but a leef to shut and open, so that in the
daytime could see to read by it, but at night I seat without any light,
the days nearley the same length as they are in England. At that time I
begun to, what I call, to examen myself, which time was from half past
six until aboute nearley eight in the evning--about the same time that
the many thousands of methodists offered up their evning sacrifise in
England--and begin first to see the many wonderfull delivrances the Lord
had wrought for me--how I have been presarved so many times from
drowning and other dangars, then how I was convinced of sin, how I cal'd
for mercy, what tryals and temptations when I was seeking the Lord, how
and when I receved the Comfarter, what tryals, temptations, when I was
in a justified state, what [...], what fears, what joys and delights in
all plases I have [...] since I know the goodness of God; how many times
I prayed in secret in evry place, what self denial I walked in, and to
conclude, sume up the whole, saying, Lord, how is it with me now; am I
growing in grace or loosing of ground? This garat was very cold indeed
to the body, so that my hands was swollen very large with chilblins,
sitting so many hours in the cold without fire.

Jan^{y.} 1794, aboute the beginning of the year, Mr. C. got me to sleep
with him in his little room and one French jen^{t.} This was again a
comfartable chainge; there we was together again, like to great k_ings_.
Aboute the latar end of this month, I was desired by C. to speak to
aboute twenty whemen caled nuns, being presnars in the same house. I
went with fear and trembling. They received me in a very _pleasant_
manner, drew a chear,[68] asked me to seat down. _One of them, an_ old
Lady, the mother Confessor, asked _me, was_ I ever baptised. I answerd,
"Yes." "In what manner?" I answerd, "I was marked with the sign of the
Cross in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Gost."
I saw sume thing very plasant upon all their countnance, as it was the
same way they themselvs was baptised. They asked me a number of many
fullish questions, that I was obliged to mustar all the little French I
could rise, as I could understand and speak any thing aboute the coman
things of this life far better than the spiritual things, having no
person to converce with aboute spiritual things. However, they keept me
with them I suppose aboute half hour, still asking me questions, but at
laste asked me to kiss the Cross. I refused. They tried me again and
again. I told them I could not, I dare not do it. So at laste took my
leave of them, and so came off rejoicing like a king. They are a loving
people, and the nicest whemen I ever saw in France. I doubt not but many
of them lives according to the light that is given them. They petted me
very much, and told my friend afterward that if he could prevail upon me
to turn to their Religion, I should be a good man. They thought I was
earnestly crying for mercy, but was an entire strainger to the way of
mercy. They allwayse looked upon me afterward with the love of pity,
_and some_ of them was fond to converse with me, [...] found it
profitable, they after caled [...] the soletude, I spent so much time to
myself. I think it was the 11 or 12 of Feb^{y.} '94, I seat apart to
prayer and fasting on a particular occasion for thirty hours without
eating or drinking. At the 19 and 20 of the same month, I seat apart in
prayer and fasting to ask of the Lord sevral favours for self and
friends, with thanks for past mercys, forty-eight hours without eating
or drinkin. Oh, what a blessed time I had. The 19 and 20 of April, 1794,
I seat apart in prayer and fasting for forty-eight hours without eating
or drinking. I trust I shall ever remember these times wilst I am in
time. Oh, how my poor soul was delighted in God my Saviour. To the end
of this time I went to run in the room as usual, willing to know whether
I was weaker or not, so that I found I could run strong as ever I could;
and it was shorley to me _a great_ wonder, as I took no breakfast for
aboute six months _before_ then, and I took suppar sume times two, and
sume times _three times_ a week, and my suppar I supose did not exceed
two ounces of bread, without tea, water, or anything to drink, and my
dinnar very little. I was still suplied with dinnar from the tavern. Mr.
C., and aboute six or eight French gen^{t.}, dined together. I could not
keep all this a secret from my friend, so he took me to reason sevral
times, saying, "You'l destroy the body," and would intice me like a
child to eate, and allways took the pains to call me to dinnar. So _I
thought_ it was reason what he said, and I thought I was _going to_ too
great extremes, so I thought for the time to _come I would_ go without
breakfast and suppar as usual, _and fast_ for thirty hours once month,
for the time to come. I did not know then at that time I was thankfull
or humble, but even now, I know I was as less then nothing in the sight
of God and all men. I know I was unworthy of the floor I walked on, and
vilest of the vile in my own eyes. I never saw my short comings more
clearer than I did in them days. Oh, how often I was crying out against
my dryness and lasiness of soul, my littleness of love, etc. Sume times,
when I heard the clock strike, I uste to rejoice, saying, "Lord, one
hour nearer to Eternety," the same time mourn before God I did not spend
it more to his glory. I think every moment of time was far more preshas
then fine gold. Aboute this time there was numbers of gen^{t.} and lades
_taken_ away to Brest that I parsnally know, and their _heads_ chopt off
with the gulenteen[69] with a very little notice. I don't know I ever
had a doubt of my own life, but I have had many of Mr. M., and thought
many times, should he be condemed to die, I would gladly die in his
steed if Providence would have it. I knew he had much enimies, and why,
because he was a libral man and a man of powar, and did do much good,
and them he did do most good to was his greatest enimyes, and it was
_such men_ as him in genral sufferd moste. Ag_ain_ [...] if he was
spared, he was worth his _place in_ creation, be helpful to others as
well as his own famely. As for me, I thought I should never be found
wanting with any person in the world. I know my child at home would be
taken care of, so it was a mattar of very little defrance to me where
the body was left, knowing I had a house not made with hands, eternal in
the Heavens. I staid there until the 15 June, 1794, when the house was
cleared of all the presnors, and then put to a convent a little out of
Town, that was made a prison, caled the Calemaleets,[70] where there was
aboute 270 men and whimen, the house very full of people. We arived
there aboute nine in the morning, and as Mr. C. and me was shifting
aboute the house seeing for a place, standing in the _room_ talking
together, he was taken with a fit and fell _as_ dead in my arms. Soon
others came to my assistance, _and took_ him out in the yard as dead. It
was very seldem _that I_ shed tears, but then I did plentefully, as I
was in m_ind_ he was no more; but the language of my heart was _still_
[...] _may_ thy will be done, come life or death, take life _and all_
away, good is the will of the Lord. But praised _be the Lord for_ ever,
in the course of an hour he revived, and _was put to_ bed, so that in
the course of sume time after _he recovered_. In the garden I seat
myself under a tree and _thought of H_agar's words, "Thou, God, seest
me." I had a sweet time there until _I was disturbed_ by two young _men_
that came to seat by _me_ [...] with a great m_errime_nt and ladies, and
_soon after_ the Lord provided a place for me under the stairs. It was a
large stone stairs going down to a under-ground seller. In the daytime I
could see a small glimring light, but never so light as to see to read.
This was a blessed place again, indeed, where I was out of sight and
hearing of all men. Mr. C. got part of a room in the garat, with a young
jen^{t.}, whose name was Morrow. The first night I made my bed in the
passage close by his door. Friend C. could not bear to see me there.
The next morning him, with sume young jen^{t.}, got carpentar's tools
and timber, turned to and divided the room in two, so took me in with
him again, and there we was again together like two great kings. We
could no longer have our food from the tavarn, the distance being too
far [...] The good lady that I lodged and boarded with in St. _Paul's_
was brought to the same preson, and a young _gentleman_ with her, her
brother son, to which she _had_ d^{r.} C. and me with her to eate. She
had her per_vision_ sent from her own house. Blessed be God [...] for
such dear Friends. In the course of two _or three_ days I found my
strength much failed me. _I had_ more room to walk in than I had before,
_and_ long _stairs_ to go up and down over. Mr. C. _discovered_ it, and
took me again to reason, saying, "_You are_ of the earth, and the body
must be _helped with things_ of the earth; if you continue so, you'll
_hurt yourself_, and if you do not _feel_ any ill efects _now_ [...]
_you_ shorley will if _you_ lives untel you are old." I thought it was
quite reason that he preached to me. I thought I was going too far with
it, and that Satan had some hand in it; so after he watched me like a
child, and if I was not presant at the time of meals, he would come and
fetch me, and I must go with him, he would not be denied. Praise be to
God that I ever saw his face, he was allwayse more mindfull of me than
he was of himself; so I continued to take breakfast for eight or nine
days and then left it off again, and I unely staid without suppar twice
a week. This place was again a blessed chainge indeed. We had a large
garden to walk in, from six in the morning untel seven in the evning, I
suppose not less than three acres of ground, with fine gravel walks in
it and sume apple trees, etc., so I was like a bird left out of a cage.
I suppose I had not sung aloud to be heard with[71] man for many months
before. I _was_ allways surounded with[71] man, but then I _used to go_
out with my book in my pocket, seat mys_elf under_ a tree, and if I
could not see any person, sing _so loud_, I suppose I might be heard for
a mile off. Oh, _how my_ soul would be delighted in the God of my
sa_lvation_. I remember one day, as I was seating under _a tree_, three
or four ladies came to me, and asked me _to sing. I begged_ to be
excused. They asked me again and again, so _as I was afraid_ to give an
ofence I sung two or three versis [...] _with_ a loud voice. They
thanked me in a very p_leasant manner_, and went away quite pleased. I
think I spent my time _to myself much_ the same as I did in Roscoff,
before _I was taken_ as a presonar. _I was_ allwayse mindfull of my
little cornar under the stears. I went to bed at ten o'clock, and got up
in the morning at four. All the people still full of friendship to me;
but I keept myself still to myself as much as posable, without giving an
ofence. There was there amongst the whole number aboute sixty nuns, one
of whom I conversed with more then all the rest; seldom miss a day, if
she saw me, but what she would have sume thing to say unto me. But I had
not French enough to enter into any depth of Religion, but I never heard
one sound of persuasion from her to turn to her Religion. Once I
remembered she asked me, saying, "Carter, did not you feel your self
very sorry when you was first convinced of sin?" or sume thing to the
same purpas. I was struck with wondar where she got that from. I think I
may safely say she was a burning and a shining light. She had small
suplys often from _her_ [...] _fat_her's house, and well she had it
often as it was _possible. It was al_wayse in her powar to govern her
own mind. _Every day_ she would give allmoste all she had to the poor,
_or to any_ person she thought that wanted; lived allmoste _entirely on_
bread and water herself. She have often told friend _C._, "Do not leave
Carter want any thing, but speak _to me_." I have often thought that she
would allmoste _tear ou_t her eyes to do me good, and I have often
thought _that she ha_d not the least doubt but what I was built _for a
Catholi_ck. I have thought then, the same as I think _now, that if I_ am
faithfull untel death, and she cont_inued in the sa_me way, that she and
me, with many _more that_ I saw there, shall meet at God's right hand,
where we shall sing louder and sweeter that ever I sung in that gardon.
May the Lord grant it. She was so nice, butifull a young lady as I think
the sun could shine on; I suppose aboute 26 or 27 years old. Her father
was a nobleman of a large income, her mother, a sistar to the great,
rich Bishop of St. Paul's, and him, as I have heard, for all his incom,
could scarsely keep a goode sute of clothes aboute him--it was busy
all[72] for the poor. I think she was the pictar of humility in all her
deportment. I could not help to admire her, as I was in the same house,
or housas, for, as I think, nearly six months.

Well, then, I continued to go on in the same manner as did before,
minding the same things, and using the same language as I did in every
chainge or place; this is the right place that God _would_ have me be
in, without one mormoring _thought_, or the leaste desire to be anywhere
else, _good_ is the will of the Lord, happy still from _moment_ to
moment. It was aboute the later end [...] it was imprest upon my mind to
make [...], as there was sume country men there tha_t was doing_ it, and
after, with prayer and suplication, _I made my_ request known unto God,
I begun to wo_rk. I went_ to bed still at ten, roase at three in the
m_orning, at_ four went to work until nine, pass a h_our in prayer
under_ the stairs, work until half past eleven, _and then dinner_; after
dinner pass a half hour u_nder the stairs_, and work untel four, pass a
half h_our again in prayer_, work until half past six; at seven _we had
supper_. The remainder of the evning spend in praying, walking, reading,
thinking, &c. So as the days shortend I could read but very little,
nither walk in the garden, but only on the Lord's day. But praise be
unto God, he was ever with me in a powarfull manner, sume times when the
walks was allmoste full of jent and lades, pass through them all, as if
allmoste there was no soul there but God and me only. That gardon was as
the gardon of Edon to my soul. Then, in the morning, I spent nearely
one hour to my self, and gitt at work as soon as I could see, minding
[...] the same stops under the stairs, and work as _long as_ I could see
in the evning. So as the weather _got_ coulder, I got myself to work in
a large _Room_, I suppose not less than 50 feet one way, and _I supos_e
aboute 30 the other; it was not finished, _neither p_lastard nor
floored; what was under foot was _the ground_, the top of the window
just to the level of _the roof_; and after suppar, evry evning, I passed
my _time there_ until bed time. I had a stool to seat un at _meals_, and
in the evnings seat on my stool, then _to_ pray, &c.; sume times,
without[73] it was _moonlight, stu_mble up again[74] the walls, as I had
_no light; but_ praise be to God for ever, for all it was so cold, a
solatry place, it was a paradice to my soul, it was sume thing like a
hermitage indeed. I was out of sight and hearing of all men and things.
So just aboute that the clock struck ten, my dear friend C. and me used
to meet just at the same time in our little, dark cornar of our lodging
room as cheerfull as two kings. I think it was in the medle of Dec^{r.}
1794, the good ladey and her brother's son was removed from us and put
to St. Paul's, into the prison that I was first put in. It was a day of
mourning and lamentation with her, indeed, to leave her two children
behind her, and it was a time of tryal to me likewayse, as she was
nearly so natural as a mother. But still the language of my heart was as
usual--good is the will of the Lord. She t_ook_ care to send us our
provisan from her _own_ house, so still dear C. and me was together
li_ke_ [...]. Aboute this time I had an account that Mr. and Mrs.
_Maccullock_ was labrated out of preson,[75] and they and all their
_family were_ then at Mr. Diott's, in Morlaix. It was a day of rejoicing
_to_ me, indeed, to think that the Lord was so graicous _to bring_ us so
near together again. And in the course _of a few_ weeks they had liberty
to come to see dear C. and _me in prison. We_ shorley had a happy
meeting together, as w_e had not seen_ each other for aboute fifteen
months, they receved _me as their_ own child, and I them as my father
and mother. _Praise God_ for so many dear friends.

Aboute the 10 _Jan_^{y.} 1795, Mr. Diott _sent for_ me to come to dine
with him. I went with much fear and trembling, as it was ever a great
cross to me to be with my great superiers, and so in every place I moved
at a solam awe of the presance of God resting upon me with a fear to
ofend him. There I meet with Mr. and Mrs. M., with all their loving
famely, and through the tender mercy of God, after all our tryals and
sufferings, being separated to nearley sixteen months from each other,
escaped, through mercy, all the lyons in France, not one hair of our
heads diminished. We staid there until evning, when Mr. Diot said, "I
will in the course of a few days gitt you out of preson and you shall
boath come to live at my house." We thanked him, wished good night, and
arived at home with our gard aboute seven. So the 23 Jany. 1795, in the
morning, we was boath librated. I went to Mr. Diot's, Mr. C. went with
Mr. Morrow in the same town. Still pervision at that time _ver_y scarce
to be had, the inhabitants of the town had all their _provisions_ sarved
out every day according to their famely. _Without_ we had money we
should not be able to gett board _on any_ account. I was received _into
t_hat famely as a king, treated as if I had been a noble_man, and_ being
the laste strainger was placed at the head of _the table_, where I
begged to be excused again and again, but _could not_ prevail. But to
the end of six or seven days I shifted _to the other_ end, where I
thought I was more in my place. _I thought_ it then, as I have many
times since, a piece of _bread be_hind the kitchen door was more
suitable for me. _Praise be_ to God, here was a chainge again indeed.
_From_ a stable to a parlar, and from a parlar to a [...]. _I eat_
mostimes my three meals, _the_n for fear to be not_iced, I always eat_
sparingly. I think I can say I allwayse _rose up with a_ sharper apetite
then I had when I sat down. I lodged in a large house to myself next
dore to Mr. Diot's, where I had no person to desturb me day nor night.
This was a blessed chainge again, it was just the place I would wish to
be in. I was there aboute two or three weeks, when I saw sume things
wanting to be done aboute two vessels that was laid up before my door,
belonging to Mr. Diot. I spoak of it to Mr. Peter Diot, and went to
work, and when the season sarved, I washed the decks morning and
evening; and as I had a chest of carpentar's tools in the same room with
me, made boats' oars, ruddars, painted names in the starn of the small
boats, etc.; that I was mostly imployed all the week. But my wark not
hard, as I was my own master, and I did it all volentary. And on the
Sabbath day I went out of town evry morning and afternoon when the
weather was _fair_ in sume solatry place to read, pray, sing, and
_think_, as I did in other places. I think it was aboute _the_ midle of
March 1795, Mr. M. was taken sick with _fever_ and agas, and in the
beginning of May 1795 went _away_ with all his famely, leaving only the
two ma_idens and_ me behind him. It was the 10 or 12 of Ju_ne that_ I
went to S^{t.} Paul's and Roscoff to see my old f_riends, where_ I was
received like a king, and with[76] sum_e people_ I never had but very
little acquaintance _with. I had_ my time to my self as usual, only at
[...] meals. I found the same solatry place _as before_, where I was
brought to examine _myself_ whether I was growing in grace or _not_
[...] so I had a bl_essed_ t_ime_. I returned back again to Morlaix
aboute the 26 or 27 June, 1795, like a jiant refreshed with new wine.
There I was received again with that loving family with the greatest
afection. Praise be unto God for so many dear friends. It was nearley
aboute this time I went with aboute a half a score men to put a boat of
Mr. Diot's in a large building that was before a tobacko manefactry in
the shade, and after I had got the boat to the place I wanted, I went
from the people to gett a cornar to myself to pray, and looking aboute I
saw a large scales and weights close by me. I thought as no person saw
me I would way myself, and all the weight my weight was 6 score and 15
pound.[77] I was set to _won_der where all my weight was gone, as I did
for _many_ years before way 10 score, and when I came _home_ I tried un
a waistcoat that I had not worn for _several_ years before, and I found
it too big for me, _may_ be upon the round nine inches, and I never know
in all these years no not _one single day_ of sickness. I think it was
the 10 July, 1795, Capt^{n.} [...] _the_ Capt^{n.} of a frigat that was
taken, and Mr. Moress [...] _of_ the "Elazander" man-of-mar, came _to
Morlaix in_ order to gett a passage to England in a _vessel_, who dined
and supped at Mr. Diot's. _They_ made very free with me all _the same as
if I_ was their equal, and one day, by a friend, desired me to call at
their lodging, they wanted to speak with me. I went with fear and
trembling, and the business was as follows. They said, "Mr. C., we have
been talking about you, as you have been here so long a prisnor, wearing
your old clothes out, your time passing away, earning nothing. We think
you may go with us in safety. Put your clothes on board the evning
before we sail, gett on board in the night, you'l never be inquired
after, nither found wanting." I answerd to this purpas: "Jen^{t.}, I
thank you kindly, but first you'l give me leave to inform you I was
brought out of prison upon Mr. Diot's interest, tho' he never sined any
paper, nither gave his word that I should continue in the country.
Notwithstanding that, in these critical times, if I was to go without
his leave, he might be caled to an account for it after ward. If you
will be so good as to ask Mr. Diot, and with his leave, I will gladly go
with you." They commended me very much, and said _the_ first opertunity
they would ask him, and I should know of them again. In the course of
two or three days _I_ waited on them again. Mr. Morress said to me,
"_Well_, Mr. C., we have opend your case to Mr. Diot. Mrs. [...], him
long with you; he is a great fool to sto_p here_ so long as he have, I
wounder how he have _not gone_ long before now. But Mr. D. said you was
_best to_ stay a little longer," and added, "Mr. C., proveden_ce has_
presarved and provided for you in a mer_ciful manner_, so I would advise
you to wait with p_atience, and you_ will be deliverd in God's due
time." I th_anked them and_ took my l_eave of_ them, wondring w_here
that_ should come from, for it was the _words of a spir_itual man. I
went in one of my solatry cornars and there sung, and blessed and
praised God. I can almoste feel at this moment how happy and thankfull I
was, so well and contented equaly to stay as to go; and if it was the
will of God, I should stay there all my lifetime, still, good is the
will of the Lord, may His will be done.

So I continued to my work aboute the boats and vessels as before,
walking in the same self-denial, until the 6 or 7 of Augst, 1795, when,
unexpected, on Saturday received a letter from Mr. M----h to meet him
at St. Paul's next monday, that he had obtained a pasport for himself,
famely, and me to go to England, and Mr. Clansee was then at Brest, who
had then got a nutral ship to take us home. Well, then, _this_ was a
great as well as unexpected news, and many _times_ before then thought
that I should be very glad and thank_ful_ if I ever lived to see such
chainge. But it answered the same efect as every other change I passed
through, a fear I should meet with anything that should obstruct my
communan with the Lord, and this is my mening when you read of any case
before, when I said I went in fear and trembling. So that on Munday
morn_ing I set out_ for S^{t.} Paul's _in_ C^{o.} with Mrs. Diot and
her two little _children and t_wo sarvants riding in a coach, and me on
horseback, where we arrived at S^{t.} Paul's at ten in the morning, and
there joind Mr. and Mrs. M. and their loving famely. Staid there untel
Tuesday morning with my dear old friend and Mother, Madam Esel le
Pleary, and set out for Landernau in C^{o.} with the two maidens. We
arrived at Landernau aboute three in the after noon. Wensday morning
breakfast with my two old friends, Mr. and Mad^{m.} Elel Renard, and old
jen^{t.} and young lady, who was his daughter. We was many months
prisonars togither, but then all librated, and they in their own house.
Same morning took a boat, and at four in the afternoon arrived on board
the ship _in_ Brest harbar, where we met all the fam_ily_ together, the
same ten of us that was stop_ped to_gether through a merical of mercy in
d_eed, and_ not one hair of our heads diminished. _Praise be_ to God,
here was another chainge. This ship was form_erly an Engl_ish frigate,
then under Danish coulars, _and_ the Capt^{n.} an English man. The
_first night_ I sleept on the cabin flooar covered _with a_ great coat,
then got a hammack [...] amongst the sailors. And when more _people
came_ on board, I went between decks, being [...] more quiat. I supose
the whole numbar of pasengars was aboute fifty offesars in the army and
navy, where I never was in such hurry and noise yet, in all the course
of my life, nither to sea nor land. I was allwayse imploid in reading,
in cooking, tending my famely to the table, etc. And there was a black
boy, the sarvant to one of the officers, very ill moste of the time, and
no person to do the leaste thing for him but myself onely. I had a quiat
place between decks to lodge in and pray, so that no person desturbed
me. I used the same self-denial as before. I have been often led to
wonder many times since of the goodness of God, for all they _were_ such
wild, distracted, disapated souls, I never _had the_ least tryal from
one of them, nither one _of the_ ship's company during the whole time. I
could _always_ bring any dish of meat from the cook to the _cabin to_
my famely, and no person set the least hand _on me; or_ if one of the
others did, they was ready allmoste _to kill_ one the other; and the
Captain would trust me _with the_ tea and shugar canestar, but not one
person _else_ on board. I have thought many times _since abou_te it,
more than at that time through [...] d favour with God and man. _We lay
in Brest_ Roade nine days _wind_ bound, and then _got a fair_ wind to
the Nor_thwa_rd and westward [...] etc., arived at Falmouth 22 August,
1795. Arived onshore aboute three o'clock in the afternoon with much
fear and trembling, where I meet with my dear little Bettsy, there
staying with her aunt, Mrs. Smythe, then between 8 and 9 years old. In
the evning went to prayer meeting in the great Chaple. I said sumething
to the people, but found but little liberty. I thought the cause might
have been after aboute three weeks exposed to so much noise and company,
and for want of composure of mind, and likewayse so long a time out of
the habit of exercising in that way. I have thought many times since,
if I was ever dead to the world and to myself, I was then in them days.
It matterd but little where my lott was cast, whether in prosperity or
adversity, whether sickness or health, take life or all my friends away,
I could trust boath soul and body, with every thing _that_ I had, in to
the hands of my great Creator with_out the_ leaste resarve. I have
thought many times since _in them_ days, tho' I did not know it then,
that I had no will, or rather, of my own, but my will w_as_ loste in the
will of God. It is now brought _into my_ remembrance as the ship lyed to
of _Falmouth_ harbar, there was not boats enuf to c_arry all the_
pasangers and bagage at once, and I _waited to_ the laste with two more,
staid untel _another_ boat should come, the wind blowing _fresh from_
the westward. The Captain grew v_ery impatient, looking_ out for a boat,
and at laste said, "_I shall not wait_ only a few minuts longer, and
ta_ke you with me_." One of these p_as_a_ngers was ma_king _such a_
noise, allmoste ready to jump overboard, for fear to be card up Channel.
I said to him, "Have a little patience, we shall have a boat in a
little time now." He turned unto me in a very sulky manner, and said,
"Who is like you, you are allwayse at home, you don't care where you are
car'd." I smiled, said nothing, but rejoiced within, and said to myself,
"You are saying the truth." And I thought if it was the will of the Lord
that I should be car'd to Copenhagen, that good is the will of the Lord.
So in the course of a few minits after saw a boate coming, and so all
was well again. I have thought since them days, I mean, since the day
that my soul was sanctified, that there did harley one thought pass
through me unperseeved in all my waking moments when I was in company
talking aboute the things of the world, or the things of God, when in
private by myself, or acting of business, my _spirit_, as it were, was
in a continual blaze of inward prayer. Well, then, I staid that night at
Falmouth, the next morning went to Penryn with my dear little Bettsey in
my hand, to see Mr. M----h and his loving family, who was then at Mrs.
Scot. The next morning, on Sunday, took a horse and arived at Breage
Church town[78] aboute eleven o'clock, where I meet my dear brother
Frank, then in his way to Church. As I first took him in surprise, at
first I could harley make him sensable I was his brother, being nearley
two years without hearing whether I was dead or alife. But when he come
to himself as it were, we rejoiced together with exceeding great joy
indeed. We went to his house in Rinsey, and after dinner went to see
brother John.[79] We sent him word before I was coming. But he could
harley believe it, with the voice of, "How can these things be?" But
f_irst_ looking out with his glass saw me yet a long way off. Ran to
meet me, fell upon my neck, and said in language like this, "This is my
brother that was dead, but is alive again; he was loste, but is found."
We passed the afternoon with him, and in the evning went to Keneggy to
see brother Charles, wh_ere we_ meet with many tears of joy, _and
afterwards_ returned again to Rinsey in _the evening_, where we had all
our conversation _about_ Hevenly things, _which_ was a treat indeed,
_after being_ so long _silent_ on the subject.




 WILLIAM BYLES AND SONS, PRINTERS,
 129 FLEET STREET, LONDON,
 AND BRADFORD.


FOOTNOTES:

[1] It is said that this name is derived from the fact that John Carter,
a brother of Harry Carter, and the most famous of the smugglers, lived
there. He was nicknamed the "King of Prussia," and the house in which he
lived is still known as the "King of Prussia's House." The origin of
this nickname is explained by a story that when they were all boys
together, they used to play at soldiers, and John would always claim to
be the King of Prussia. Clearly an echo of the fame of Frederick the
Great had reached these boys about the time of the Seven Years' War.

[2] 17 Geo. III. c. 7.

[3] See Lecky. _History of Eighteenth Century_, vol. iv. ch. xiv.

[4] Carlyle. _French Revolution_, bk. iii. ch. iv.

[5] Spelt "yest" in the manuscript throughout.

[6] "Called." The spelling is the dialect pronunciation.

[7] A small village about half a mile from Prussia Cove.

[8] Spelt "fever" in the manuscript. The Cornish people do not
distinguish "v" and "w."

[9] "Bal" is a mine, tin or copper.

[10] This name is now lost.

[11] ? Folkestone, see p. 80.

[12] The sizes of all his vessels are given in old measurement. Before
1835 ships were measured by the following elaborate rule. Subtract
three-fifths of the greatest breadth from the length of the keel,
multiply this by the breadth, and the result by half of the breadth;
divide the result so obtained by 94, and the answer is the size of the
ship in tons (see 13 Geo. III. c. 26, Sec. 74). They are now measured by
the cubical contents. It is difficult to render these figures in modern
measurement, but this sloop was probably about the size which would be
now called 10 tons.

[13] About 18 tons in modern measurement.

[14] About 30 tons in modern measurement.

[15] Spelt "oughten" in the manuscript. Daughter is still pronounced
"dafter" in West Cornwall.

[16] Conscience.

[17] "Felt," dialect pronunciation.

[18] "Carried," dialect pronunciation.

[19] About 60 tons in modern measurement.

[20] The treaty between France and the Americans was made on February 6,
1778.

[21] "Kept," dialect pronunciation.

[22] The "King of Prussia."

[23] Cf. note 12.

[24] About 50 tons in modern measurement.

[25] Newlyn, near Penzance.

[26] The collector of the Customs, presumably at Penzance.

[27] Spelt "feve" in the manuscript. Cf. note 8.

[28] About 45 tons in modern measurement.

[29] ? Cawsand near Plymouth.

[30] Burtons, a small tackle of two pulleys to be fastened anywhere at
pleasure (Phillips' _Dictionary_, 1706). Now obsolete.

[31] Near Cuddan Point. It was built about 1775 by Mr. John Stackhouse,
of Pendarves.

[32] It is said that the doctor who attended him at this time was always
met on the road about a mile away by two men, who blindfolded him; and
in this way he was brought to the Castle, and so led back to the road
again. A precaution to prevent him from giving information as to Harry
Carter's hiding place.

[33] Spelt "oughten" in the manuscript. See note 15.

[34] Glazier.

[35] Thomas Coke, LL.D.; he was ordained Bishop or Superintendent of the
American Methodist Societies by John Wesley in 1784.

[36] This expression, which occurs several times in the following pages,
is common in West Cornwall in the sense of "although."

[37] This is one of Dr. Watts' hymns. It was not included by John Wesley
in the Hymn-book which he published in 1790.

[38] Francis Asbury. He was sent to America by John Wesley in 1771, and
was elected Joint Superintendent with Dr. Coke at the Conference held at
Baltimore in 1784. He was the only English preacher who remained in
America during the War of Independence.

[39] This is one of the "Olney" hymns by Cowper and Newton.

[40] Spelt "worps" in the manuscript, which is dialect pronunciation.
Cf. "sharps" for "shafts" (of a cart), and "vycicle" for "bycicle,"
which are both common.

[41] Spelt "feve" in the manuscript. Cf. note 8.

[42] Spelt "youmping" in the manuscript. Cf. "yest" for "just," note
5.

[43] ? "Bustle."

[44] Ordinances.

[45] "Carry"; dialect.

[46] 'Bedstead.' 'Stead' would be pronounced 'steed' in West Cornish
dialect.

[47] "Further"; dialect.

[48] Spelt "laght" in the manuscript. Cf. note 8.

[49] The ordinary word for "a valley" in West Cornwall.

[50] A well; dialect pronunciation.

[51] Old measurement.

[52] _I.e._, in their reckoning as to the position of the vessel.

[53] ? Folkestone (see p. 4).

[54] On the Fal.

[55] Near Prussia Cove.

[56] Intending; dialect.

[57] A small village about a mile from Prussia Cove.

[58] Lazarus.

[59] Spelt 'oughten' in the manuscript. See note 15.

[60] Referring to the Government reward for his capture.

[61] Cliffs; dialect.

[62] Actions.

[63] Spelt "oft" in the manuscript. See note 15.

[64] War was declared on the 1st February, 1793.

[65] Guillotine.

[66] Farthing; dialect.

[67] Carhaix.

[68] "Chair"; dialect.

[69] Guillotine.

[70] ? Carmelites.

[71] Meaning "by"; dialect.

[72] A common expression in West Cornwall. It is a forcible way of
saying that his means were fully occupied.

[73] Meaning "unless"; dialect.

[74] Meaning "against"; dialect.

[75] Robespierre was executed on 28th July, 1794. Soon after his death
the Convention decreed that "Prisoners and other persons under
accusation should have a right to demand some 'Writ of accusation' and
see clearly what they were accused of."--Carlyle: _French Revolution_,
Book vii. ch. i. This decree was followed by the release of great
numbers of "Suspect" and other prisoners.

[76] Meaning "by"; dialect.

[77] The Cornish people always measure weight in scores (20 lbs). The
stone (14 lbs) is unknown.

[78] In West Cornwall every collection of houses is called a town. The
village in which the parish church stands is called "Church town."

[79] He lived at Prussia Cove.




    Transcriber's notes:

    The following is a list of changes made to the original.
    The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one.

    "from this it is evident," says Dr,
    "from this it is evident," says Dr.

    19, 1829, The last thirty years of his life
    19, 1829. The last thirty years of his life

    may prizes, manned and commanded chiefly
    many prizes, manned and commanded chiefly

    same part of the the town, went in company
    same part of the town, went in company

    so happy in all my life as I was at that _time_,
    so happy in all my life as I was at that _time_.

    in God my Saviour, To the end of this
    in God my Saviour. To the end of this

    must go with him, he would not be denied,
    must go with him, he would not be denied.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Autobiography of a Cornish Smuggler, by
Harry Carter

*** 