The Sot-Weed Factor

by John Barth

  “Thou’rt too gracious!”

  “But you daren’t hold the property for long on such a pretext, and you daren’t release it by court order to either party. ’Tis hence I warned you to recess.”

  Nicholson wiped his brow. “Devil take all barristers and law-books! What a province I could have me without ’em! What do we do now?”

  Burlingame shrugged. “What do all good barristers do when they have no case, sir? We settle out o’ court!”

  “Stay!” Ebenezer warned. “Here they are.”

  Richard Sowter and William Smith came in from the next room. The cooper did indeed look unsure of his ground, but his counsel was as breezy as ever.

  “Did ye scare up some ink, Mister Clerk? Splendid! By St. Ludwig, ’twere a pity such eloquence as Mister Cooke’s went unrecorded!”

  The party around the table dispersed. Observing with some surprise that Anna had moved to the couch and was deep in conversation with Joan, Ebenezer returned with his father to his earlier place. So dispirited was Andrew by the progress of events that he offered no resistance when his son took his arm and directed him gently to a seat.

  “By’r leave, Your Excellency,” Sowter asked, “may I proceed with my statement?”

  Burlingame, Ebenezer noticed, had been conferring in whispers with the Governor and Sir Thomas Lawrence. Now he sat back and winked at Ebenezer as if there was nothing at all to be concerned about!

  “Ye may not,” Nicholson grumbled.

  Sowter’s face clouded. “Your Excellency?”

  “The Court will rule on thy client’s claim some other time,” the Governor said. “Just now I’m fetching the twain of ye to Anne Arundel jail. The charges are conspiracy, sedition, and high treason, and after what Tim Mitchell here hath told me, I quite expect to see ye hanged ere the year is out!”

  The surprise brought even the sullen cooper to his feet. “Tim Mitchell!”

  “Aye, gentlemen.” Burlingame smiled. “Captain Billy’s pride and pleasure, till his real son came along.” His hands were busy as he spoke, and his appearance changed magically. Off came the powdered periwig, to be replaced by a short black hairpiece; from his mouth he removed a curious device which, it turned out, had held three artificial teeth in position. Most uncannily of all, he seemed able to alter at will the set of his facial muscles: the curve of his cheeks and the flare of his nose changed shape before their eyes; his habitually furrowed brow grew smooth, but crow’s-feet appeared where before there were none. Finally, his voice deepened and coarsened; he drew in upon himself so as to seem at least two inches shorter; his eyes took on a craftier cast—Nicholas Lowe, in a few miraculous seconds, had become Timothy Mitchell.

  “ ’Sbody!” exclaimed Sir Thomas Lawrence, and the Governor himself—though one supposed he must have witnessed such transformations of his agent before—was moved to shake his head.

  “ ’Tis a page of Ovid!” Ebenezer marveled. The others made similar expressions of their awe—except Smith and Sowter, who were dumb struck.

  “Now, Mister Smith,” Burlingame said grimly, “methinks ye know what straits thou’rt in if I testify against ye—if ye do not, I give ye leave to consult Mister Sowter, that will keep ye company in jail for’s misdemeanors.”

  The cooper seemed ready to do violence, but Sowter waved his hand resignedly.

  “Ye quite agree we’ve dagged ye? Splendid! Then attend me closely: ’tis my intention to expose for prosecution the entire traffic in opium and whores, the which hath paid for all of John Coode’s mischief and haply Baltimore’s as well. Whoe’er hath had a finger in’t”—he smiled at Andrew—“shall be brought to account, regardless of his station—”

  “St. Louis’s wig, man!” Sowter complained. “Jail us and have done with’t, but spare us this pious gloating!”

  “Patience, Dick.” Henry raised his finger. “ ’Tis but my preamble to a bargain. On the strength of my deposition His Excellency hath instructed Sir Thomas to proceed against Coode, Bill Mitchell, and every traitor of a whoremaster in his company—with the possible exception of yourselves.”

  Smith’s eyes narrowed, and Sowter’s expression became calculating as Burlingame offered to waive the charges against them in return for the cooper’s portion of the Privie Journall, on whose verso was believed to be Coode’s record of confiscations and prosecutions during his brief tenure of office. The cooper agreed at once to the exchange, but Sowter restrained him.

  “Only think of the consequences, Bill!” he warned. “D’ye think we’ll live out the month when John Coode learns ye’ve let go the papers? Besides, methinks His Excellency must set great store by ’em to make us such an offer; and What will fetch eleven pence, don’t ye know, will as lightly fetch a shilling…”

  “Take ’em away, Sergeant,” snapped Nicholson. “I’m sorry to disappoint ye, Henry, but I’ll not dicker farther with traitors just to get your grandfather’s diary.”

  “Stay!” Sowter cried at once. “We’ll fetch ye the wretched papers! Only give us thy pledge in writing…”

  Nicholson shook his head. “I’m not such a fool.”

  “Welladay! Then this much, at least, sir: we’ll have no profit in our bargain if John Coode murthers us; grant us safe conduct to Virginia, and ye may have the papers.”

  Again Burlingame conferred in whispers with the Governor and Sir Thomas.

  “His Excellency advises me to authorize safe exit for ye,” Henry declared, “but not as a term of our first agreement. We’ll fetch ye out o’ Maryland in the morning if Smith relinquishes all claim to this estate.”

  “God bless ye, sir!” Andrew cried.

  “ ’Sheart!” protested Sowter. “Ye’d bleed us dry!”

  Nicholson grinned. “And ’twill not be Virginia we fetch ye to, either, but Pennsylvania. I’ve enemies enough in Virginia.”

  “What liars they are that call ye Papist!” William Smith exclaimed. “Thou’rt not even a proper Gentile!”

  Sowter sighed. “We’ve no choice, Bill. Fetch the papers, and I’ll draw up a conveyance.”

  The rest of the company cheered the news: Anna and Ebenezer embraced each other with relief; Andrew apologized stiffly to Burlingame and commended him for his strategy, as did Nicholson, Sir Thomas, and John McEvoy; Roxanne and Henrietta looked on approvingly. Only Joan Toast remained apathetic, and the sight of her blighted Ebenezer’s joy.

  The cooper left the room, under guard, and returned with a roll of yellowed papers, which Burlingame received eagerly. He and Sir Thomas made a cursory inspection of the verso and pronounced it sufficient evidence, when combined with the 1691 Assembly Journal, to institute proceedings against Coode and his associates. Then, while Sowter, Sir Thomas, and the Governor discussed the details of releasing Malden and ferrying the two men up the Bay to Pennsylvania, Burlingame took Ebenezer aside.

  “D’ye recall the story I told ye on our way to Plymouth?” he asked excitedly. “How Sir Henry and Captain John were captured by Powhatan?”

  Ebenezer smiled. “They struck some lewd bargain over the King’s daughter, as I recall, but we ne’er learned the outcome of’t. Is that the rest of the tale?”

  “Aye, methinks our story is complete. Let’s read it while Tom and the Governor attend those rascals.”

  And then and there, despite the general excitement in the room, they read together the second and final portion of Sir Henry Burlingame’s Privie Journall, which began (where the first had left off) with the author and Captain John Smith incarcerated in the Emperor Powhatan’s village waiting for dawn, at which time the Captain was pledged to gamble their lives against his ability to do what the ablest young men of the town had found impossible: relieve Pocahontas of her maidenhood.

  Two burlie Guards were plac’d over us [had written Sir Henry} and commission’d to provide our everie wish, and to slay us shd we offer to escape. My Captain then commenc’d to regale me with accounts, endlesse & lubricious, of divers maidens in exotick lands, that he had deflowr’
d, till that I grewe so wearie, I did feign sleep. But watch’d him privilie, the night through.

  Neare midnight, believing me fast asleep, my Captain did ryse up from his bed (like mine, a fllthie pallet upon the grownd), and summon’d one of our Guards. Thereupon ensu’d a whisper’d colloquie, yet not so hush’d withal, but I heard the substance of it. Ever & anon he glanc’d to see, Whether I was asleep? And to all that were naught the wiser, so I was. But I kept one eye still a-squint, and both eares wide, and follow’d there conversation with passing ease. Smith declar’d, He was hungrie, the wch surpriz’d me not a little, seeing he had eate enough at the Emperours feest, to preserve the whole of Jamestowne through the Winter. He demanded to be brought food at once. The Salvage was loath to bestire him selfe, so it seem’d to me, the moreso when my Captain commenc’d to tell what dishes he crav’d; to witt: one egg-plant (that frute, that is call’d by some, Aubergine) with corne-floure wherein to cooke it, & water wherewith to drinke it downe…

  “An eggplant!” Burlingame murmured.

  He did maintaine, that onlie thus did white men prepare the frute of the egg-plant. Wch I knewe for a lye.

  The Salvage did pleade the houre of night and the season of yeere, but upon my Captains pressing the matter (besides bribing him with some bawble from his wicked pockett), he at last consented to steale an egg-plant and floure from the common store near the Emperours howse. Then departing, he was absent some while, during wch my Captain pac’d about the hutt, as might a man, whose wife was in travaile, not forgetting to certain him selfe, now & againe, that my sleep was sound & undisturb’d.

  Whenas the Salvage did returne, with 2 dry’d egg-plants & a dishful of floure, not to mention an earthen jugg of water, my Captain rewarded him with a second trinkett, and ask’d him to remove him selfe from the hutt, if it pleas’d him, and sett outside, for that white men (as he claim’d) never cook’d there food, but privilie. The Salvage did as he was bid, eager to contemplate his treasures, and left alone, my Captain straightway set to work upon the egg-plant, in the strangest manner I ever did behold. Forsooth, I was that amaz’d, that even some weeks thereafter, here in Jamestowne, what time I set to recording this narrative in my Journall-booke, it was no light matter to realize it was true. For had I not observ’d it my owne selfe, I had never believ’d it to be aught but the lewd construction of some dissolute fancie. Endlesse indeed, and beyond the ken of sober & continent men, are the practices and fowle receipts of those lustful persons, the votaries of the flesh, that still set Venus & Bacchus over chast Minerva, and studie with scholars zeale all the tricks and dark refynements of carnallitie! I blush to committ the thing to paper, even to these the privie pages of my Journall. Wch it is my vow, no man shall lay eyes upon, while that I live.

  “I say!” Burlingame exclaimed. “The rest of the page is gone, and part of the next! D’ye grasp what it is we have here, Eben?”

  “You mean the matter of the Sacred Eggplant, that the Tayac Chicamec spoke of? ’Tis not impossible there’s some connection…”

  “I know there is! I’Christ, what this could mean!”

  They read on, Burlingame with an expression of voracious, almost painful eagerness, and Ebenezer with the first stirrings of unease.

  For this reason [the narrative resumed after the break] it was to my grand chagrinn, that coming to my senses some houres later, I discover’d I had assum’d in fact, that state wch theretofore I had feign’d; to witt: a sownd & recklesse sleep…

  “God damn him!” Henry cried.

  My repose was broken by the Salvage Guard & Keeper, and starting up, I found the Sunne alreadie risen. From without our hutt there came to my eares, the whooping & hollowing of many Salvages, and I guess’d, they were assembl’d for my Captains lustie tryall of there Princesse. My Captain, when I look’d at him, was fullie cloth’d, and no signs of the Aubergine or other things being apparent, I wonder’d whether the scene I had witness’d in the night just past, was a mere fantastick dreem, such as men are wont to suffer, when there death is neare to hand…

  “Then he did witness it,” Ebenezer offered, “whate’er it was.”

  “But the page is gone!”

  It is true, the Journall went on, that when we left the hutt, under the eye of our Salvage Guards, and were led to the publick square, my Captain shew’d some hardshipp in walking, as if loath to keep his leggs together; but this deflciencie cd as well be attributed to feare (wch it is well known, can loose a mans hold upon his reins), as to any strange behaviour of the evening past. And this former seem’d the more likelie, for that the scene before us was aught but a consoling one.

  Round about the court-yard, in a circle, stood the people of the towne, hollowing & howling in a fearsome manner. Within the large circle thus form’d was a smaller, made up of tenne or a dozen of the Emperours Lieutenants. These were greate brawnie Salvages, bedeck’d in feathers and paynted most grewsomelie, that donn’d in naught save these adornments, did leap and daunce about, issuing feerce screames, and brandishing there Tomahawkes. In the center of this smalle ring sat the Emperour Powhatan, rays’d above the crowd on a loftie chaire, and before him, upon a manner of altar stone, lay Pocahontas, stript & trust with throngs of hyde for the heethenish rites. Yet maugre the rudenesse of her position, the Princess seem’d not a whit alarm’d, but wore an huge smyle upon her face. Whereat I guess’d that this vile manner of presenting maidens for betrothal must be in common use among the Salvage nations, to such extent that, Habit being master of us all, they had got even to relish it, in there pagan sinfullnesse. Wch notwithstanding, I was fill’d with trepidation, the more for that, marking the considerable manlinesse of those Salvages, that sprang about all nakedlie, and recalling the modest endowment of my Captain (that for all his boasting, I had seen privilie to be but passing well equipt for Venereal exercise), I sawe no hope of his making good where they had fail’d. Forsooth, I had been in his place, I shd not have been able to summon the most tryfling manlinesse, for knowing those evil Tomahawkes stood readie to breake my head at the first sign of deficiencie.

  Directly they spy’d us, all the Salvages redoubl’d there commotion. The folk in the greate circle showted and clapt hands, the Lieutenant-Salvages leapt and hopt, even Pocahontas contriv’d to joggle about on her pedestall. Wch movements, considering the manner wherein she was trust and tether’d, shew’d uncommon suppleness of limb, and readiness for whatever might ensue.

  We were fetch’d into the small circle and station’d before the altar of Venus (to look whereon brought the blush to my cheeks), whereupon the Salvages lay’d hands upon my Captain, and with one jerk brought his breeches low. From where I stood, wch chanc’d to be behind him, the sight was unprepossessing enow, but the Salvages before all suddenlie put by there clamour. The Emperour shaded his eyes from the morning Sunne, the better to behold him, and Pocahontas, maugre her bonds (wch netted her as fast as those, that Vulcan fashion’d for his faithless spouse), this Pocahontas, I say, came neare to breaking her necke with looking, and the unchast smyle, that erst had play’d about her mowth, now vanish’d altogether.

  My Captain then turning half around to see, Whether I was at hand? I at last beheld the cause of all this wonder, and as well the effect of his magick of the night past—the wch to relate, must fetch me beyond all bownds of taste & decencie, but to withhold, must betray the Truth and leave what follow’d veil’d in mystery. To have done then, my Captains yard stood full erect, and what erst had been more cause for pity than for astonishment, was now in verie sooth a frightful engine: such was the virtue of his devilish brewe, that when now his codd stood readie for the tilt, he rear’d his bulk not an inch below eleven, and well-nigh three in diameter—a weapon of the Gods! Add to wch, it was all a fyrie hue, gave off a scent of clove & vanilla, and appear’d as stout as that stone whereon its victim lay. A mightie sownd went up from the populace; the Lieutenants, that had doubtlesse been the Princesses former suitors, dropt to there knees as in prayer; the Emperour
started up in his high seate, dismay’d by the fate about to befall his daughter; and as for that same Pocahontas, she did swoone dead away.

  Straight leapt my Captain to his work, whereof I can bring myself to say naught save this: Mercifull, mercifull, the Providence, that kept the heethen maid aswoon, while that my Captain did what none had done before! And so inordinatelie withal, that anon the Emperour begg’d for an end to the tryall, lest his daughter depart from this life. He declar’d my Captain victorious, rescinded the decree of death hanging over us, dispers’d the companie, and had Pocahontas remov’d to his howse, where for three days thereafter she hung in the balance twixt life & death. A banquet was then prepar’d for us, whereat Powhatan express’d his intent to marrie his daughter to my Captain, inasmuch as no Salvage in his trybe cd match his Virilitie. My Captain declyn’d, whereupon the Emperour wax’d wroth, and wd have return’d us to our hutt, had not my Captain offer’d to instruct him in that mysterie, whereby he had so increas’d him selfe. This more than satisfy’d the Emperour, that shd have been long past such vanitie, and it was on the best of terms, that we set out at last for Jamestowne. With a troup of Salvages to assist us by the way.

  Throughout the journie, as one might guess, my Captain bragg’d and strutted handsomelie. I was oblig’d to him for life, he declar’d, for that his deed had preserv’d the twain of us; and he offer’d to murther me, in some dark and dastard wise, if ever I noys’d about in Jamestowne the manner of our salvation. I cd scarce protest, inasmuch he had in sooth preserv’d me, but it was bitter frute to eate, for that I must submitt to his browbeating and braggadocio without compleynt. In briefe, I was to feign I had been detain’d with Opecancanough, and my Captain alone led in unto the Emperour. Moreover, he made so bold as to shew me a written account of his salvation by Pocahontas, the wch he meant to include in his lying Historie: this version made no mention whatever of his scurrilous deflowring of the Princesse, but merelie imply’d, she was overcome by his manlie bearing & comelie face! It was this farce and travestie, then, wherein I was oblig’d to feign belief, and wch hath mov’d me, in hopes of pacifying my anguish’d conscience, to committ this true accounting to my Journall-booke. Whereon, I pray God, my Captain will never lay his lecherous eyes!