Part 6

It has been observed, that in proportion as the lands have been cleared and improved, and scope given for a more free circulation of air, the climate has likewise become more salubrious and pleasant. This change was more remarkable in the heart of the country than in the maritime parts, where the best plantations of rice are, and where water is carefully preserved to overflow the fields; yet even in those places cultivation has been attended with salutary effects. Time and experience had now taught the planters, that, during the autumnal months, their living among the low rice plantations subjected them to many disorders, from which the inhabitants of the capital were entirely exempted. This induced the richer part to retreat to town during this unhealthy season. Those who were less able to bear the expences of this retreat, and had learned to guard against the inconveniencies of the climate, sometimes escaped; but laborious strangers suffered much during these autumnal months. Accustomed as they were in Europe to toil through the heat of the day, and expose themselves in all weathers, they followed the same practices in Carolina, where the climate would by no means admit of such liberties. Apprehensive of no ill consequences from such exposure, they began their improvement with vigour and resolution, and persevered until the hot climate and heavy toil exhausted their spirits, and brought home to them the unwelcome intimations of danger.

In the months of July, August, and September, the heat in the shaded air, from noon to three o'clock, is often between ninety and an hundred degrees; and as such extreme heat is of short duration, being commonly productive of thunder-showers, it becomes on that account the more dangerous. I have seen the mercury in Fahrenheit's thermometer arise in the shade to ninety-six in the hottest, and fall to sixteen in the coolest season of the year; others have observed it as high as an hundred, and as low as ten; which range between the extreme heat of summer and cold in winter is prodigious, and must have a great effect upon the constitution of all, even of those who are best guarded against the climate; what then must be the situation of such as are exposed to the open air and burning sky in all seasons? The mean diurnal heat of the different seasons has been, upon the most careful observation, fixed at sixty-four in spring, seventy-nine in summer, seventy-two in autumn, and fifty-two in winter; and the mean nocturnal heat in those seasons at fifty-six degrees in spring, seventy-five in summer, sixty-eight in autumn, and forty-six in winter.

As this climate differs so much from that of Britain, Ireland, and Germany, and every where has great influence on the human constitution, no wonder that many of these settlers should sicken and die by the change, during the first state of colonization. In the hot season the human body is relaxed by perpetual perspiration, and becomes feeble and sickly, especially during the dog-days, when the air is one while suffocating and sultry, and another moist and foggy. Exhausted of fluids, it is perhaps not at all, or very improperly, supplied. Hence intermittent, nervous, putrid and bilious fevers, are common in the country, and prove fatal to many of its inhabitants. Young children are very subject to the worm-fever, which cuts off multitudes of them. The dry belly-ache, which is a dreadful disorder, is no stranger to the climate. An irruption, commonly called the Prickly Heat, often breaks out during the summer, which is attended with troublesome itching and stinging pains; but this disease being common, and not dangerous, is little regarded; and if proper caution be used to prevent it from striking suddenly inward, is thought to be attended even with salutary effects. In the spring and winter pleurisies and peripneumonies are common, often obstinate, and frequently fatal diseases. So changeable is the weather, that the spirits in the thermometer will often rise or fall twenty, twenty-five, and thirty degrees, in the space of twenty four hours, which must make havock of the human constitution. In autumn there is sometimes a difference of twenty degrees between the heat of the day and that of the night, and in winter a greater difference between the heat of the morning and that of noon-day. We leave it to physicians more particularly to describe the various disorders incident to this climate, together with the causes of them; but if violent heat and continual perspiration in summer, noxious vapours and sudden changes in autumn, piercing cold nights, and hot noon-days in winter, affect the human constitution, the inhabitants of Carolina, especially in the maritime parts, have all these and many more changes and hardships during the year to undergo. Not only man, but every animal, is strongly affected by the sultry heat of summer. Horses and cows retire to the shade, and there, though harassed with insects, they stand and profusely sweat through the violence of the day. Hogs and dogs are also much distressed with it. Poultry and wild fowls droop their wings, hang out their tongues, and, with open throats, pant for breath. The planter who consults his health is not only cautious in his dress and diet, but rises early for the business of the field, and transacts it before ten o'clock, and then retreats to the house or shade during the melting heat of the day, until the coolness of the evening again invites him to the field. Such is his feebleness of body and languor of spirit at noon, that the greatest pleasure of life consists in being entirely at rest. Even during the night he is often restless and depressed, insomuch that refreshing sleep is kept a stranger to his eyes. If unfortunately the poor labourer is taken sick in such weather, perhaps far removed from, or unable to employ, a physician, how great must be his hazard. In towns this heat is still rendered more intolerable by the glowing reflection from houses, and the burning sand in the streets. But how it is possible for cooks, blacksmiths, and other tradesmen, to work at the side of a fire, as many in the province do during such a season, we must leave to the world to judge.

This hot weather, however, has been found favourable to the culture of indigo, which at this time was introduced into Carolina, and has since proved one of its chief articles of commerce. About the year 1745 a fortunate discovery was made, that this plant grew spontaneously in the province, and was found almost every where among the wild weeds of the forest. As the soil naturally yielded a weed which furnished the world with so useful and valuable a dye, it loudly called for cultivation and improvement. For this purpose some indigo seed was imported from the French West Indies, where it had been cultivated with great success, and yielded the planters immense profit. At first the seed was planted by way of experiment, and it was found to answer the most sanguine expectations. In consequence of which several planters turned their attention to the culture of indigo and studied the art of extracting the dye from it. Every trial brought them fresh encouragement. In the year 1747 a considerable quantity of it was sent to England, which induced the merchants trading to Carolina to petition parliament for a bounty on Carolina indigo. The parliament, upon examination, found that it was one of the most beneficial articles of French commerce, that their West India islands supplied all the markets of Europe; and that Britain alone consumed annually six hundred thousand weight of French indigo, which, at five shillings a pound, cost the nation the prodigious sum of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling. It was demonstrated by the merchants, that this vast expence might be saved, by encouraging the cultivation of indigo in Carolina, and commonly believed that in time the colony might bring it to such perfection, as to rival the French at the markets of Europe. This petition of the merchants was soon followed by another from the planters and inhabitants of Carolina, and others to the same effect from the clothiers, dyers, and traders of different towns in Britain. It was proved, that the demand for indigo annually increased, and it could never he expected that the planters in the West Indies would turn their hands to it, while the culture of sugar canes proved more profitable. Accordingly, an act of parliament passed, about the beginning of the year 1748, for allowing a bounty of sixpence per pound on all indigo raised in the British American plantations, and imported directly into Britain from the place of its growth. In consequence of which act the planters applied themselves with double vigour and spirit to that article, and seemed to vie with each other who should bring the best kind and greatest quantity of it to the market. Some years indeed elapsed before they learned the nice art of making it as well as the French, whom long practice and experience had taught it to perfection; but every year they acquired greater skill and knowledge in preparing it, and received incredible profit as the reward of their labours. While many of them doubled their capital every three or four years by planting indigo, they in process of time brought it to such a degree of perfection, as not only to supply the mother-country, but also to undersel the French at several European markets.

Here it may not be improper to give the reader some account of the manner in which the people of Carolina cultivate this plant, and extract the dye from it. As we pretend to little knowledge of this matter ourselves, we shall give the following rules and directions of an ingenious person, who practised them for several years with great success. "As both the quantity and quality of indigo greatly depend on the cultivation of the plant, it is proper to observe, that it seems to thrive best in a rich, light soil, unmixed with clay or sand. The ground to be planted should be plowed, or turned up with hoes, some time in December, that the frost may render it rich and mellow. It must also be well harrowed, and cleansed from all grass, roots, and stumps of trees, to facilitate the hoeing after the weed appears above ground. The next thing to be considered is the choice of the seed, in which the planters should be very nice; there is great variety of it, and from every sort good indigo may be made; but none answers so well in this colony as the true Guatimala, which if good is a small oblong black seed, very bright and full, and when rubbed in the hand will appear as if finely polished.

"In Carolina we generally begin to plant about the beginning of April, in the following manner: The ground being well prepared, furrows are made with a drill-plow, or hoe, two inches deep, and eighteen inches distant from each other, to receive the seed, which is sown regularly, and not very thick, after which it is lightly covered with earth. A bushel of seed will sow four English acres. If the weather proves warm and serene, the plant will appear above ground in ten or four-teen days. After the plant appears, the ground, though not grassy, should be hoed to loosen the earth about it, which otherwise would much hinder its growth. In good seasons it grows very fast, and must all the while be kept perfectly clean of weeds. Whenever the plant is in full bloom it must be cut down, without paying any regard to its height, as its leaves are then thick and full of juice, and this commonly happens in about four months after planting. But, previous to the season for cutting, a complete set of vats of the following dimensions, for every twenty acres of weed, must be provided, and kept in good order. The steeper or vat in which the weed is first put to ferment, must be sixteen feet square in the clear, and two and a half feet deep; the second vat or battery twelve feet long, ten feet wide, and four and a half feet deep from the top of the plate. These vats should be made of the best cypress or yellow-pine plank, two and a half inches thick, well fastened to the joints and studs with seven-inch spikes, and then caulked, to prevent their leaking. Vats thus made will last in Carolina, notwithstanding the excessive heat, at least seven years. When every thing is ready, the weed must be cut and laid regularly in the steeper with the stalk upward, which will hasten the fermentation; then long rails must be laid the length of the vat, at eighteen inches distance from one another, and wedged down to the weed, to prevent its buoying up when the water is pumped into the steeper. For this purpose the softest water answers best, and the quantity of it necessary must be just sufficient to cover all the weed. In this situation it is left to ferment, which will begin sooner or later in proportion to the heat of the weather, and the ripeness of the plant, but for the most part takes twelve or fifteen hours. After the water is loaded with the salts and substance of the weed, it must be let out of the steeper into the battery, there to be beat; in order to perform which operation, many different machines have been invented: but for this purpose any instrument that will agitate the water with great violence may be used. When the water has been violently agitated for fifteen or twenty minutes in the battery, by taking a little of the liquor up in a plate it will appear full of small grain or curdled; then you are to let in a quantity of lime-water kept in a vat for the purpose, to augment and precipitate the faeculae, still continuing to stir and beat vehemently the indigo water, till it becomes of a strong purple colour, and the grain hardly perceptible. Then it must be left to settle, which it will do in eight or ten hours. After which the water must be gently drawn out of the battery through plug-holes contrived for that purpose, so that the faeculae may remain at the bottom of the vat. It must then be taken up, and carefully strained through a horse-hair sieve, to render the indigo perfectly clean, and put into bags made of Osnaburghs, eighteen inches long, and twelve wide, and suspended for six hours, to drain the water out of it. After which the mouths of these bags being well fastened, it must be put into a press to be entirely freed from any remains of water, which would otherwise greatly hurt the quality of the indigo. The press commonly used for this purpose is a box of five feet in length, two and a half wide, and two deep, with holes at one end to let out the water. In this box the bags must be laid, one upon another, until it is full, upon which a plank must be laid, fitted to go within the box, and upon all a sufficient number of weights to squeeze out the water entirely by a constant and gradual pressure, so that the indigo may become a fine stiff paste; which is then taken out and cut into small pieces, each about two inches square, and laid out to dry. A house made of logs must be prepared on purpose for drying it, and so constructed that it may receive all the advantages of an open and free air, without being exposed to the sun, which is very pernicious to the dye. For here indigo placed in the sun, in a few hours will be burnt up to a perfect cinder. While the indigo remains in the drying house, it must be carefully turned three or four times in a day, to prevent its rotting. Flies should likewise be carefully kept from it, which at this season of the year are hatched in millions, and infest an indigo plantation like a plague. After all, great care must also be taken, that the indigo be sufficiently dry before it is packed, lest after it is headed up in barrels it should sweat, which will certainly spoil and rot it."

In this manner indigo is cultivated and prepared in Carolina, and the richest land in the heart of the country is found to answer best for it. The maritime islands, however, which are commonly sandy, are not unfavourable for this production, especially those that contain spots of land covered with oak, and hickory trees. It is one of those rank weeds which in a few years will exhaust the strength and fertility of the best lands in the world. It is commonly cut in the West Indies six and seven times in the year, but in Carolina no more than two or three times before the frost begins. Our planters have been blamed by the English merchants for paying too much attention to the quantity, and too little to the quality of their indigo, hence the West-India indigo brings an higher price at the market. He that prefers the quality to the quantity, is very careful to cut the plant at the proper season, that is, when the weed begins to bloom; for the more luxuriant and tender the plant, the more beautiful the indigo. While it is curing, indigo has an offensive and disagreeable smell, and as the dregs of the weed are full of salts, and make excellent manure, therefore they should be immediately buried under ground when brought out of the steeper. It is commonly observed, that all creatures about an indigo plantation are starved, whereas, about a rice one, which abounds with provisions for man and beast, they thrive and flourish. The season for making indigo in Carolina ends with the first frosty weather, which puts a stop to fermentation, and then double labour is not only requisite for beating it, but when prepared it is commonly good for nothing.

The planters bring their indigo to market about the end of the year, and frequently earlier. The merchant judges of its quality by breaking it, and observing the closeness of its grain, and its brilliant copper, or violet blue colour. The weight in some measure proves its quality, for heavy indigo of every colour is always bad. Good indigo almost entirely consumes away in the fire, the bad leaves a quantity of ashes. In water also pure and fine indigo entirely melts and dissolves, but the heterogeneous and solid parts of the bad sink to the bottom like sand. From this period it became a staple to Carolina, and proved equally profitable as the mines of Mexico or Peru. To the mother country it was no less beneficial, in excluding the French indigo entirely from her market, and promoting her manufactures, and trade. I shall afterwards take notice of the rapid progress made in the cultivation of this article; particularly with respect to the quantity produced and yearly shipped to Britain, to supply the markets in Europe.

The great bounty and indulgence of Britain towards her American colonies increased with their progress in cultivation, and favour after favour was extended to them. Filled with the prospect of opening an excellent market for her manufactures, and enlarging her commerce and navigation, in which her strength in a great measure consisted, these colonies were become the chief objects of her care, and new ones were planted for the protection of the old. At this time the peace of Aix la Chapelle left a number of brave sailors and soldiers without employment. Good policy required that they should be rendered useful to the nation, and at the same time furnished with employment for their own subsistence. Acadia, which was ceded to Britain by the treaty of peace, changed its name to Nova Scotia, and was capable of producing every species of naval stores. The sea there abounded with excellent fish, which might furnish employment for a number of sailors, and be made an useful and advantageous branch of trade. But the excellent natural harbours which the country afforded, of all other things proved the greatest inducement for establishing a colony in it, the possession of which would not only promote trade in the time of peace, but also prove a safe station for British fleets in time of war. Besides, for the sake of commercial advantage, it was judged proper to confine the settlements in America as much as possible to the sea-coast. The parliament therefore determined to send out a colony to Nova Scotia, and, to forward the settlement, voted forty thousand pounds. The following advantageous terms were held forth to the people by government, and a number of adventurers agreed to accept them. Fifty acres of land were to be allowed to every soldier and sailor, two hundred to every ensign, three hundred to every lieutenant, four hundred and sixty to every captain, and six hundred to all officers of higher rank; together with thirty for every servant they should carry along with them. No quit-rents were to be demanded for the first ten years. They were also to be furnished with instruments for fishing and agriculture, to have their passage free, and provisions found them for the first year after their arrival. Three thousand seven hundred and sixty adventurers embarked for America on these favourable terms, and settled at Halifax, which place was fixed on as the seat of government, and fortified. The Acadians, the former inhabitants of the country, were allowed peaceably to remain in it, and having sworn never to bear arms against their countrymen, submitted to the English government, and passed under the denomination of French neutrals. The greatest difficulty which the new settlers of Nova Scotia had to surmount at this time arose from the Micmac Indians, who held that territory from nature, and for some time obstinately defended their right to their ancient possessions; and it was not without considerable loss that the British subjects at length, by force of arms, drove them away from those territories.

Nor did this new settlement engross the whole attention and liberality of the parent state; the province of Georgia also every year shared plentifully from the same hands. Indeed the bounty of the mother country was extensive as her dominions, and, like the sun, cherished and invigorated every object on which it shone. All the colonies might have been sensible of her constant attention to their safety and prosperity, and had great reason to acknowledge themselves under the strongest obligations to her goodness. If she expected a future recompense by the channel of commerce, which is for the most part mutually advantageous, it was no more than she had justly merited. The colonists, we allow, carried with them the rights and liberties of the subjects of Britain, and they owed in return the duties of obedience to her laws and subjection to her government. The privileges and duties of subjects in all states have been reciprocal, and as the mother country had incurred great expence for the establishment and support of these foreign settlements; as she had multiplied her burdens for their defence and improvement; surely such protection and kindness laid a foundation for the firmest union, and the most dutiful returns of allegiance and gratitude.

However, the province of Georgia, notwithstanding all that Britain had done for its population and improvement, still remained in a poor and languishing condition. Its settlers consisted of two sorts of people; first, of indigent subjects and foreigners, whom the Trustees transported and maintained; secondly, of men of some substance, whom flattering descriptions of the province had induced voluntarily to emigrate to it. After the peace Oglethorpe's regiment being disbanded, a number of soldiers accepted the encouragement offered them by government, and took up their residence in Georgia. All those adventurers who had brought some substance along with them, having by this time exhausted their small stock in fruitless experiments, were reduced to indigence, so that emigrants from Britain, foreigners, and soldiers, were all on a level in point of poverty. From the impolitic restrictions of the Trustees, these settlers had no prospects during life but those of hardship and poverty, and of consequence, at their decease, of bequeathing a number of orphans to the care of Providence. Nor was the trade of the province in a better situation than its agriculture. The want of credit was an unsurmountable obstacle to its progress in every respect. Formerly the inhabitants in and about Savanna had transmitted to the Trustees a representation of their grievous circumstances, and obtained from them some partial relief. But now, chagrined with disappointments, and dispirited by the severities of the climate, they could view the design of the Trustees in no other light than that of having decoyed them into misery. Even though they had been favoured with credit, and had proved successful, which was far from being their case; as the tenure of their freehold was restricted to heirs male, their eldest son could only reap the benefit of their toil, and the rest must depend on his bounty, or be left wholly to the charge of that Being who feeds the fowls of the air. They considered their younger children and daughters as equally entitled to paternal regard, and could not brook their holding lands under such a tenure, as excluded them from the rights and privileges of other colonists. They saw numbers daily leaving the province through mere necessity, and frankly told the Trustees, that nothing could prevent it from being totally deserted, but the same encouragements with their more fortunate neighbours in Carolina.

That the Trustees might have a just view of their condition, the Georgians stated before them their grievances, and renewed their application for redress. They judged that the British constitution, zealous for the rights and liberties of mankind, could not permit subjects who had voluntarily risked their lives, and spent their substance on the public faith, to effect a settlement in the most dangerous frontiers of the British empire, to be deprived of the common privileges of all colonists. They complained that the land-holders in Georgia were prohibited from selling or leasing their possessions; that a tract containing fifty acres of the best lands was too small an allowance for the maintenance of a family, and much more so when they were refused the freedom to chuse it; that a much higher quit-rent was exacted from them than was paid for the best lands in America; that the importation of negroes was prohibited, and white people were utterly unequal to the labours requisite; that the public money granted yearly by parliament, for the relief of settlers and the improvement of the province, was misapplied, and therefore the wise purposes for which it was granted were by no means answered. That these inconveniencies and hardships kept them in a state of poverty and misery, and that the chief cause of all their calamities was the strict adherence of the Trustees to their chimerical and impracticable scheme of settlement, by which the people were refused the obvious means of subsistence, and cut off from all prospects of success.

We have already observed, that the laws and regulations even of the wisest men, founded on principles of speculation, have often proved to be foreign and impracticable. The Trustees had an example of this in the fundamental constitutions of John Locke. Instead of prescribing narrower limits to the industry and ambition of the Georgians, they ought to have learned wisdom from the case of the Proprietors of Carolina, and enlarged their plan with respect to both liberty and property. By such indulgence alone they could encourage emigrations, and animate the inhabitants to diligence and perseverance. The lands in Georgia, especially such as were first occupied, were sandy and barren; the hardships of clearing and cultivating them were great, the climate was unfavourable for labourers, and dangerous to European constitutions. The greater the difficulties were with which the settlers had to struggle, the more encouragement was requisite to surmount them. The plan of settlement ought to have arisen from the nature of the climate, country, and soil, and the circumstances of the settlers, and been the result of experience and not of speculation.

Hitherto Georgia had not only made small improvement in agriculture and trade, but her government was feeble and contemptible. At this time, by the avarice and ambition of a single family, the whole colony was brought to the very brink of destruction. As the concerns of these settlements are closely connected and interwoven with the affairs of Indian nations, it is impossible to attain proper views of the circumstances and situation of the people, without frequently taking notice of the relation in which they stood to their savage neighbours. A considerable branch of provincial commerce, as well as the safety of the colonists, depended on their friendship with Indians; and, to avoid all danger from their savage temper, no small share of prudence and courage was often requisite. This will appear more obvious from the following occurrence, which, because it is somewhat remarkable, we shall the more circumstantially relate.

I have already observed, that during the time General Oglethorpe had the direction of public affairs in Georgia, he had, from maxims of policy, treated an Indian woman, called Mary, with particular kindness and generosity. Finding that she had great influence among the Creeks, and understood their language, he made use of her as an interpreter, in order the more easily to form treaties of alliance with them, allowing her for her services an hundred pounds sterling a-year. This woman Thomas Bosomworth, who was chaplain to Oglethorpe's regiment, had married, and among the rest had accepted a track of land from the crown, and settled in the province. Finding that his wife laid claim to some islands on the sea-coast, which, by treaty, had been allotted the Indians as part of their hunting lands; to stock them he had purchased cattle from the planters of Carolina, from whom he obtained credit to a considerable amount. However, this plan not proving so successful as the proud and ambitious clergyman expected, he took to audacious methods of supporting his credit, and acquiring a fortune. His wife pretended to be descended in a maternal line from an Indian king, who held from nature the territories of the Creeks, and Bosomworth now persuaded her to assert her right to them, as superior not only to that of the Trustees, but also to that of the King. Accordingly Mary immediately assumed the title of an independent empress, disavowing all subjection or allegiance to the King of Great Britain, otherwise than by way of treaty and alliance, such as one independent sovereign might make with another. A meeting of all the Creeks was summoned, to whom Mary made a speech, setting forth the justice of her claim, and the great injury done to her and them by taking possession of their ancient territories, and stirring them up to defend their property by force of arms. The Indians immediately took fire, and to a man declared they would stand by her to the last drop of their blood in defence of their lands. In consequence of which Mary, with a large body of savages at her back, set out for Savanna, to demand a formal surrender of them from the president of the province. A messenger was despatched before hand, to acquaint him that Mary had assumed her right of sovereignty over the whole territories of the upper and lower Creeks, and to demand that all lands belonging to them be instantly relinquished; for as she was the hereditary and rightful queen of both nations, and could command every man of them to follow her, in case of refusal, she had determined to extirpate the settlement.

The president and council, alarmed at her high pretensions and bold threats, and sensible of her great power and influence with the savages, were not a little embarrassed what steps to take for the public safety. They determined to use soft and healing measures until an opportunity might offer of privately laying hold of her, and shipping her off to England. But, in the mean time, orders were sent to all the captains of the militia, to hold themselves in readiness to march to Savanna at an hour's warning. The town was put in the best posture of defence, but the whole militia in it amounted to no more than one hundred and seventy men, able to bear arms. A messenger was sent to Mary at the head of the Creeks, while several miles distant from town, to know whether she was serious in such wild pretensions, and to try to persuade her to dismiss her followers, and drop her audacious design. But finding her inflexible and resolute, the president resolved to put on a bold countenance, and receive the savages with firmness and resolution. The militia was ordered under arms, to overawe them as much as possible, and as the Indians entered the town, Captain Jones, at the head of his company of horse, stopped them, and demanded whether they came with hostile or friendly intentions? But receiving no satisfactory answer, he told them they must there ground their arms, for he had orders not to suffer a man of them armed to set his foot within the town. The savages with great reluctance submitted, and accordingly Thomas Bosomworth, in his canonical robes, with his queen by his side, followed by the various chiefs according to their rank, marched into town, making a formidable appearance. All the inhabitants were struck with terror at the sight of the fierce and mighty host. When they advanced to the parade, they found the militia drawn up under arms to receive them, who saluted them with fifteen cannon, and conducted them to the president's house. There Thomas and Adam Bosomworth being ordered to withdraw, the Indian chiefs, in a friendly manner, were called upon to declare their intention of visiting the town in so large a body, without being sent for by any person in lawful authority. The warriors, as they had been previously instructed, answered, that Mary was to speak for them, and that they would abide by her words. They had heard, they said, that she was to be sent like a captive over the great waters, and they were come to know on what account they were to lose their queen. They assured the president they intended no harm, and begged their arms might be restored; and, after consulting with Bosomworth and his wife, they would return and settle all public affairs. To please them their muskets were accordingly given back, but strict orders were issued to allow them no ammunition, until the council should see more clearly into their dark designs.

On the day following, the Indians having had some private conferences with their queen, began to be very surly, and to run in a mad and tumultuous manner up and down the streets, seemingly bent on some mischief. All the men being obliged to mount guard, the women were terrified to remain by themselves in their houses, expecting every moment to be murdered or scalped. During this confusion, a false rumour was spread, that they had cut off the president's head with a tomahawk, which so exasperated the inhabitants, that it was with difficulty the officers could prevent them from firing on the savages. To save a town from destruction, never was greater prudence requisite. Orders were given to the militia to lay hold of Bosomworth, and carry him out of the way into close confinement. Upon which Mary became outrageous and frantic, and insolently threatened vengeance against the magistrates and whole colony. She ordered every man of them to depart from her territories, and at their peril to refuse. She cursed General Oglethorpe and his fraudulent treaties, and, furiously stamping with her feet upon the ground, swore by her Maker that the whole earth on which she trode was her own. To prevent bribery, which she knew to have great weight with her warriors, she kept the leading men constantly in her eye, and would not suffer them to speak a word respecting public affairs but in her presence.

The president finding that no peaceable agreement could be made with the Indians while under the baleful eye and influence of their pretended queen privately laid hold of her, and put her under confinement with her husband. This step was necessary, before any terms of negotiation could be proposed. Having secured the chief promoters of the conspiracy, he then employed men acquainted with the Indian tongue to entertain the warriors in the most friendly and hospitable manner, and explain to them the wicked designs of Bosomworth and his wife. Accordingly a feast was prepared for all the chief leaders; at which they were informed, that Mr. Bosomworth had involved himself in debt, and wanted not only their lands, but also a large share of the royal bounty, to satisfy his creditors in Carolina: that the King's presents were only intended for Indians, on account of their useful services and firm attachment to him during the former wars: that the lands adjoining the town were reserved for them to encamp upon, when they should come to visit their beloved friends at Savanna, and the three maritime islands to hunt upon, when they should come to bathe in the salt waters: that neither Mary nor her husband had any right to those lands, which were the common property of the Creek nations: that the great King had ordered the president to defend their right to them, and expected that all his subjects, both white and red, would live together like brethren; in short that he would suffer no man or woman to molest or injure them, and had ordered these words to be left on record, that their children might know them when they were dead and gone.

Such policy produced the desired effect, and many of the chieftains being convinced that Bosomworth had deceived them, declared they would trust him no more. Even Malatchee, the leader of the Lower Creeks, and a relation to their pretended empress, seemed satisfied, and was not a little pleased to hear, that the great King had sent them some valuable present. Being asked why he acknowledged Mary as the Empress of the great nation of Creeks, and resigned his power and possessions to a despicable old woman, while all Georgia owned him as a chief of the nation, and the president and council were now to give him many rich clothes and medals for his services? He replied, that the whole nation acknowledged her as their Queen, and none could distribute the royal presents but one of her family. The president by this answer perceiving more clearly the design of the family of Bosomworth, to lessen their influence, and shew the Indians that he had power to divide the royal bounty among the chiefs, determined to do it immediately, and dismiss them, and the hardships the inhabitants underwent, in keeping guard night and day for the defence of the town.

In the mean time Malatchee, whom the Indians compared to the wind, because of his fickle and variable temper, having, at his own request, obtained access to Bosomworth and his wife, was again seduced and drawn over to support their chimerical claim. While the Indians were gathered together to receive their respective shares of the royal bounty; he stood up in the midst of them, and with a frowning countenance, and in violent agitation of spirit, delivered a speech fraught with the most dangerous insinuations. He protested, that Mary possessed that country before General Oglethorpe; and that all the lands belonged to her as Queen, and head of the Creeks; that it was by her permission Englishmen were at first allowed to set their foot on them; that they still held them of her as the original proprietor; that her words were the voice of the whole nation, consisting of above three thousand warriors, and at her command every one of them would take up the hatchet in defence of her right; and then pulling out a paper out of his pocket, he delivered it to the president in confirmation of what he had said. This was evidently the production of Bosomworth, and served to discover in the plainest manner, his ambitious views and wicked intrigues. The preamble was filled with the names of Indians, called kings, of all the towns of the Upper and Lower Creeks, none of whom, however, were present, excepting two. The substance of it corresponded with Malatchee's speech; styling Mary the rightful princess and chief of their nation, descended in a maternal line from the emperor, and invested with full power and authority from them to settle and finally determine all public affairs and causes, relating to lands and other things, with King George and his beloved men on both sides of the sea, and whatever should be said or done by her, they would abide by, as if said or done by themselves.

After reading this paper in council, the whole board were struck with astonishment; and Malatchee, perceiving their uneasiness, begged to have it again, declaring he did not know it to be a bad talk, and promising he would return it immediately to the person from whom he had received it. To remove all impression made on the minds of the Indians by Malatchee's speech, and convince them of the deceitful and dangerous tendency of this confederacy into which Bosomworth and his wife had betrayed them, had now become a matter of the highest consequence; happy was it for the province this was a thing neither difficult nor impracticable; for as ignorant savages are easily misled on the one hand, so, on the other, it was equally easy to convince them of their error. Accordingly, having gathered the Indians together for this purpose, the president addressed them to the following effect. "Friends and brothers, when Mr. Oglethorpe and his people first arrived in Georgia, they found Mary, then the wife of John Musgrove, living in a small hut at Yamacraw, having a licence from the Governor of South Carolina to trade with Indians. She then appeared to be in a poor ragged condition, and was neglected and despised by the Creeks. But Mr. Oglethorpe finding that she could speak both the English and Creek languages, employed her as an interpreter, richly clothed her, and made her the woman of the consequence she now appears. The people of Georgia always respected her until she married Thomas Bosomworth, but from that time she has proved a liar and a deceiver. In fact, she was no relation of Malatchee, but the daughter of an Indian woman of no note, by a white man. General Oglethorpe did not treat with her for the lands of Georgia, she having none of her own, but with the old and wise leaders of the Creek nation, who voluntarily surrendered their territories to the King. The Indians at that time having much waste land, that was useless to themselves, parted with a share of it to their friends, and were glad that white people had settled among them to supply their wants. He told them that the present bad humour of the Creeks had been artfully infused into them by Mary, at the instigation of her husband, who owed four hundred pounds sterling in Carolina for cattle; that he demanded a third part of the royal bounty, in order to rob the naked Indians of their right; that he had quarrelled with the president and council of Georgia for refusing to answer his exorbitant demands, and therefore had filled the heads of Indians with wild fancies and groundless jealousies, in order to breed mischief, and induce them to break their alliances with their best friends, who alone were able to supply their wants, and defend them against all their enemies." Here the Indians desired him to stop, and put an end to the contest, declaring that their eyes were now opened, and they saw through his insidious design. But though he intended to break the chain of friendship, they were determined to hold it fast, and therefore begged that all might immediatly smoke the pipe of peace. Accordingly pipes and rum were brought, and the whole congress, joining hand in hand, drank and smoked together in friendship, every one wishing that their hearts might be united in like manner as their hands. Then all the royal presents, except ammunition, with which is was judged imprudent to trust them until they were at some distance from town, were brought and distributed among them. The most disaffected were purchased with the largest presents. Even Malatchee himself seemed fully contented with his share, and the savages in general perceiving the poverty and insignificance of the family of Bosomworth, and their total inability to supply their wants, determined to break off all connection with them for ever.

While the president and council flattered themselves that all differences were amicably compromised, and were rejoicing in the re-establishment of their former friendly intercourse with the Creeks, Mary, drunk with liquor, and disappointed in her views, came rushing in among them like a fury, and told the president that these were her people, that he had no business with them, and he should soon be convinced of it to his cost. The president calmly advised her to keep to her lodgings, and forbear to poison the minds of Indians, otherwise he would order her again into close confinement. Upon which turning about to Malatchee in great rage, she told him what the president had said, who instantly started from his seat, laid hold of his arms, and then calling upon the rest to follow his example, dared any man to touch his queen. The whole house was filled in a moment with tumult and uproar. Every Indian having his tomahawk in his hand, the president and council expected nothing but instant death. During this confusion Captain Jones, who commanded the guard, very seasonably interposed, and ordered the Indians immediately to deliver up their arms. Such courage was not only necessary to overawe them, but at the same time great prudence was also requisite, to avoid coming to extremities with them. With reluctance the Indians submitted, and Mary was conveyed to a private room, where a guard was set over her, and all further intercourse with savages denied her during their stay in Savanna. Then her husband was sent for, in order to reason with him and convince him of the folly of his chimerical pretensions, and of the dangerous consequences that might result from persisting in them. But no sooner did he appear before the president and council, than he began to abuse them to their face. In spite of every argument used to persuade him to submission, he remained obstinate and contumacious, and protested he would stand forth in vindication of his wife's right to the last extremity, and that the province of Georgia should soon feel the weight of her vengeance. Finding that fair means were fruitless and ineffectual, the council then determined to remove him also out of the way of the savages, and to humble him by force. After having secured the two leaders, it only then remained to persuade the Indians peaceably to leave the town, and return to their settlements. Captain Ellick, a young warrior, who had distinguished himself in discovering to his tribe the base intrigues of Bosomworth, being afraid to accompany Malatchee and his followers, thought fit to set out among the first: the rest followed him in different parties, and the inhabitants, wearied out with constant watching, and harassed with frequent alarms, were at length happily relieved.

By this time Adam Bosomworth, another brother of the family, who was agent for Indian affairs in Carolina, had arrived from that province, and being made acquainted with what had passed in Georgia, was filled with shame and indignation. He found his ambitious brother, not contented with the common allowance of land granted by the crown, aspiring after sovereignty, and attempting to obtain by force one of the largest landed estates in the world. His plot was artfully contrived, and had it been executed with equal courage, fatal must the consequence have been. Had he taken possession of the provincial magazine on his arrival at Savanna, and supplied the Creeks with ammunition, the militia must soon have been overpowered, and every family must of course have fallen a sacrifice to the indiscriminate vengeance of savages. Happily, by the interposition of his brother, all differences were peaceably compromised. Thomas Bosomworth at length having returned to sober reflection, began to repent of his folly, and to ask pardon of the magistrates and people. He wrote to the president, acquainting him that he was now deeply sensible of his duty as a subject, and of the respect he owed to civil authority, and could no longer justify the conduct of his wife; but hoped that her present remorse, and past services to the province, would entirely blot out the remembrance of her unguarded expressions and rash design. He appealed to the letters of General Oglethorpe for her former irreproachable conduct, and steady friendship to the settlement, and hoped her good behaviour for the future would atone for her past offences, and reinstate her in the public favour. For his own part, he acknowledged her title to be groundless, and for ever relinquished all claim to the lands of the province. The colonists generously forgave and forgot all that had past; and public tranquillity being re-established, new settlers applied for lands as usual, without meeting any more obstacles from the idle claims of Indian queens and chieftains.

The Trustees of Georgia finding that the province languished under their care, and weary of the complaints of the people, in the year 1752 surrendered their charter to the King, and it was made a royal government. In consequence of which his Majesty appointed John Reynolds, an officer of the navy, Governor of the province, and a legislature similar to that of the other royal governments in America was established in it. Great had been the expence which the mother country had already incurred, besides private benefactions, for supporting this colony; and small had been the returns yet made by it. The vestiges of cultivation were scarcely perceptible in the forest, and in England all commerce with it was neglected and despised. At this time the whole annual exports of Georgia did not amount to ten thousand pounds sterling. Though the people were now favoured with the same liberties and privileges enjoyed by their neighbours under the royal care, yet several years more elapsed before the value of the lands in Georgia was known, and that spirit of industry broke out in it which afterwards diffused its happy influence over the country.

In the annals of Georgia the famous George Whitfield may not be unworthy of some notice, especially as the world through which he wandered has heard so much of his Orphan-house built in that province. Actuated by religious motives, this wanderer several times passed the Atlantic to convert the Americans, whom he addressed in such a manner as if they had been all equal strangers to the privileges and benefits of religion with the original inhabitants of the forest. However, his zeal never led him beyond the maritime parts of America, through which he travelled, spreading what he called the true evangelical faith among the most populous towns and villages. One would have imagined that the heathens, or at least those who were most destitute of the means of instruction, would have been the primary and most proper objects of his zeal and compassion; but this was far from being the case. However, wherever he went in America, as in Britain, he had multitudes of followers. When he first visited Charlestown, Alexander Garden, a man of some sense and erudition, who was the episcopal clergyman of that place, to put the people upon their guard, took occasion to point out to them the pernicious tendency of Whitfield's wild doctrines and irregular manner of life. He represented him as a religious impostor or quack, who had an excellent knack of setting off to advantage his poisonous tenets. On the other hand, Whitfield, who had been accustomed to bear reproach and face opposition, recriminated with double acrimony and greater success. While Alexander Garden, to keep his flock from straying after this strange pastor, expatiated on the words of Scripture, "Those that have turned the world upside down are come hither also." Whitfield, with all the force of comic humour and wit for which he was so much distinguished, by way of reply, enlarged on these words, "Alexander the coppersmith hath done me much evil, the Lord reward him according to his works." In short, the pulpit was perverted by both into the mean purposes of spite and malevolence, and every one catching a share of the infection, spoke of the clergymen as they were differently affected.

In Georgia Whitfield having obtained a track of land from the Trustees, erected a wooden house two stories high, the dimensions of which were seventy feet by forty, upon a sandy beach nigh the sea-shore. This house, which he called the Orphan-House, he began to build about the year 1740, and afterwards finished it at a great expense. It was intended to be a lodging for poor children, where they were to be clothed and fed by charitable contributions, and and trained up in the knowledge and practice of the Christian religion. The design, beyond doubt, was humane and laudable; but, perhaps, had he travelled over the whole earth, he could scarcely have found out a spot of ground upon it more improper for the purpose. The whole province of Georgia could not furnish him with a track of land of the same extent more barren and unprofitable. To this house poor children were to be sent from at least a healthy country, to be supported partly by charity, and partly by the produce of this land cultivated by negroes. Nor was the climate better suited to the purpose than the soil, for it is certain, before the unwholesome marshes around the house were fertilized, the influences of both air and water must have conspired to the children's destruction.

However, Whitfield having formed his chimerical project, determined to accomplish it, and, instead of bring discouraged by obstacles and difficulties, gloried in despising them. He wandered through the British empire, persuaded the ignorant and credulous part of the world of the excellence of his design, and obtained from them money, clothes, and books, to forward his undertaking, and supply his poor orphans in Georgia. About thirty years after this wooden house was finished it was burned to the ground; during which time, if I am well informed, few or none of the children educated in it have proved either useful members of society, or exemplary in respect to religion. Some say the fire was occasioned by a foul chimney, and others by a flash of lightning; but whatever was the cause, it burnt with such violence that little of either the furniture or library escaped the flames. When I saw the ruins of this fabric, I could not help reflecting on that great abuse of the fruits of charity too prevalent in the world. That money which was sunk here had been collected chiefly from the poorest class of mankind. Most of those bibles which were here burnt had been extorted from indigent and credulous persons, who perhaps had not money to purchase more for themselves. Happy was it for the zealous founder of this institution, that he did not live to see the ruin of his works. After his death he was brought from New-England, above eight hundred miles, and buried at this Orphan-house. In his last will he left Lady Huntingdon sole executrix, who has now converted the lands and negroes belonging to the poor benefactors of Great Britain and her dominions, to the support of clergymen of the same irregular stamp with the deceased, but void of his shining talents, and it is become a seminary of dissension and sedition.

As George Whitfield appeared in such different lights in the successive stages of life, it is no easy matter to delineate his character without an uncommon mixture and vast variety of colours. He was in the British empire not unlike one of those strange and erratic meteors which appear now and then in the system of nature. In his youth, as he often confessed and lamented, he was gay, giddy and profligate; so fondly attached to the stage, that he joined a company of strolling actors and vagabonds, and spent a part of his life in that capacity. At this period it is probable he learned that grimace, buffoonery and gesticulation which he afterwards displayed from the pulpit. From an abandoned and licentious course of life he was converted; and, what is no uncommon thing, from one extreme he run into the other, and became a most zealous and indefatigable teacher of religion. Having studied some time at Oxford, he received ordination in the church of England; yet he submitted to none of the regulations of that or any other church, but became a preacher in churches, meeting-houses, halls, fields, in all places, and to all denominations, without exception. Though little distinguished for genius or learning, yet he possessed a lively imagination, much humour, and had acquired considerable knowledge of human nature and the manners of the world. His pretensions to humanity and benevolence were great, yet he would swell with venom, like a snake, against opposition and contradiction. His reading was inconsiderable, and mankind being the object of his study, he could, when he pleased, raise the passions, and touch the tone of the human heart to great perfection. By this affecting eloquence and address he impressed on the minds of many, especially of the more soft and delicate sex, such a strong sense of sin and guilt as often plunged them into dejection and despair. As his custom was to frequent those larger cities and towns, that are commonly best supplied with the means of instruction, it would appear that the love of fame and popular applause was his leading passion; yet in candour it must be acknowledged, that he always discovered a warm zeal for the honour of God and the happiness of men. While he was almost worshipped by the vulgar, men of superior rank and erudition found him the polite gentleman, and the facetious and jocular companion. Though he loved good cheer, and frequented the houses of the rich or more hospitable people of America, yet he was an enemy to all manner of excess and intemperance. While his vagrant temper led him from place to place, his natural discernment enabled him to form no bad judgment of the characters and manners of men wherever he went. Though he appeared a friend to no established church, yet good policy winked at all his irregularities, as he every where proved a steady friend to monarchy and the civil constitution. He knew well how to keep up the curiosity of the multitude, and his roving manner stamped a kind of novelty on his instructions. When exposed to the taunts of the scoffer, and the ridicule of the flagitious, he remained firm to his purpose, and could even retort these weapons with astonishing ease and dexterity, and render vice abashed under the lash of his satire and wit. Sometimes, indeed, he made little scruple of consigning over to damnation such as differed from him or despised him; yet he was not entirely devoid of liberality of sentiment. To habitual sinners his address was for the most part applicable and powerful, and with equal ease could alarm the secure, and confirm the unsteady. Though, in prayer, he commonly addressed the second person of the Trinity in a familiar and fulsome style, and in his sermons used many ridiculous forms of speech, and told many of his own wonderful works, yet these seemed only shades to set off to greater advantage the lustre of his good qualities. In short, though it is acknowledged he had many oddities and failings, and was too much the slave of party and vain-glory, yet in justice it cannot be denied, that religion in America owed not a little to the zeal, diligence, and oratory, of this extraordinary man.