The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders

by Daniel Defoe

upon.

  In order to this we began to make inquiry for vessels going toCarolina, and in a very little while got information, that on the otherside the bay, as they call it, namely, in Maryland, there was a shipwhich came from Carolina, laden with rice and other goods, and wasgoing back again thither, and from thence to Jamaica, with provisions.On this news we hired a sloop to take in our goods, and taking, as itwere, a final farewell of Potomac River, we went with all our cargoover to Maryland.

  This was a long and unpleasant voyage, and my spouse said it was worseto him than all the voyage from England, because the weather was butindifferent, the water rough, and the vessel small and inconvenient.In the next place, we were full a hundred miles up Potomac River, in apart which they call Westmoreland County, and as that river is by farthe greatest in Virginia, and I have heard say it is the greatest riverin the world that falls into another river, and not directly into thesea, so we had base weather in it, and were frequently in great danger;for though we were in the middle, we could not see land on either sidefor many leagues together. Then we had the great river or bay ofChesapeake to cross, which is where the river Potomac falls into it,near thirty miles broad, and we entered more great vast waters whosenames I know not, so that our voyage was full two hundred miles, in apoor, sorry sloop, with all our treasure, and if any accident hadhappened to us, we might at last have been very miserable; supposing wehad lost our goods and saved our lives only, and had then been leftnaked and destitute, and in a wild, strange place not having one friendor acquaintance in all that part of the world. The very thought of itgives me some horror, even since the danger is past.

  Well, we came to the place in five days' sailing; I think they call itPhilip's Point; and behold, when we came thither, the ship bound toCarolina was loaded and gone away but three days before. This was adisappointment; but, however, I, that was to be discouraged withnothing, told my husband that since we could not get passage toCaroline, and that the country we was in was very fertile and good, wewould, if he liked of it, see if we could find out anything for ourtune where we was, and that if he liked things we would settle here.

  We immediately went on shore, but found no conveniences just at thatplace, either for our being on shore or preserving our goods on shore,but was directed by a very honest Quaker, whom we found there, to go toa place about sixty miles east; that is to say, nearer the mouth of thebay, where he said he lived, and where we should be accommodated,either to plant, or to wait for any other place to plant in that mightbe more convenient; and he invited us with so much kindness and simplehonesty, that we agreed to go, and the Quaker himself went with us.

  Here we bought us two servants, viz. an English woman-servant just comeon shore from a ship of Liverpool, and a Negro man-servant, thingsabsolutely necessary for all people that pretended to settle in thatcountry. This honest Quaker was very helpful to us, and when we cameto the place that he proposed to us, found us out a convenientstorehouse for our goods, and lodging for ourselves and our servants;and about two months or thereabouts afterwards, by his direction, wetook up a large piece of land from the governor of that country, inorder to form our plantation, and so we laid the thoughts of going toCaroline wholly aside, having been very well received here, andaccommodated with a convenient lodging till we could prepare things,and have land enough cleared, and timber and materials provided forbuilding us a house, all which we managed by the direction of theQuaker; so that in one year's time we had nearly fifty acres of landcleared, part of it enclosed, and some of it planted with tabacco,though not much; besides, we had garden ground and corn sufficient tohelp supply our servants with roots and herbs and bread.

  And now I persuaded my husband to let me go over the bay again, andinquire after my friends. He was the willinger to consent to it now,because he had business upon his hands sufficient to employ him,besides his gun to divert him, which they call hunting there, and whichhe greatly delighted in; and indeed we used to look at one another,sometimes with a great deal of pleasure, reflecting how much betterthat was, not than Newgate only, but than the most prosperous of ourcircumstances in the wicked trade that we had been both carrying on.

  Our affair was in a very good posture; we purchased of the proprietorsof the colony as much land for #35, paid in ready money, as would makea sufficient plantation to employ between fifty and sixty servants, andwhich, being well improved, would be sufficient to us as long as wecould either of us live; and as for children, I was past the prospectof anything of that kind.

  But out good fortune did not end here. I went, as I have said, overthe bay, to the place where my brother, once a husband, lived; but Idid not go to the same village where I was before, but went up anothergreat river, on the east side of the river Potomac, called RappahannockRiver, and by this means came on the back of his plantation, which waslarge, and by the help of a navigable creek, or little river, that raninto the Rappahannock, I came very near it.

  I was now fully resolved to go up point-blank to my brother (husband),and to tell him who I was; but not knowing what temper I might find himin, or how much out of temper rather, I might make him by such a rashvisit, I resolved to write a letter to him first, to let him know who Iwas, and that I was come not to give him any trouble upon the oldrelation, which I hoped was entirely forgot, but that I applied to himas a sister to a brother, desiring his assistance in the case of thatprovision which our mother, at her decease, had left for my support,and which I did not doubt but he would do me justice in, especiallyconsidering that I was come thus far to look after it.

  I said some very tender, kind things in the letter about his son, whichI told him he knew to be my own child, and that as I was guilty ofnothing in marrying him, any more than he was in marrying me, neitherof us having then known our being at all related to one another, so Ihoped he would allow me the most passionate desire of once seeing myone and only child, and of showing something of the infirmities of amother in preserving a violent affect for him, who had never been ableto retain any thought of me one way or other.

  I did believe that, having received this letter, he would immediatelygive it to his son to read, I having understood his eyes being so dim,that he could not see to read it; but it fell out better than so, foras his sight was dim, so he had allowed his son to open all lettersthat came to his hand for him, and the old gentleman being from home,or out of the way when my messenger came, my letter came directly to myson's hand, and he opened and read it.

  He called the messenger in, after some little stay, and asked him wherethe person was who gave him the letter. The messenger told him theplace, which was about seven miles off, so he bid him stay, andordering a horse to be got ready, and two servants, away he came to mewith the messenger. Let any one judge the consternation I was in whenmy messenger came back, and told me the old gentleman was not at home,but his son was come along with him, and was just coming up to me. Iwas perfectly confounded, for I knew not whether it was peace or war,nor could I tell how to behave; however, I had but a very few momentsto think, for my son was at the heels of the messenger, and coming upinto my lodgings, asked the fellow at the door something. I suppose itwas, for I did not hear it so as to understand it, which was thegentlewoman that sent him; for the messenger said, 'There she is, sir';at which he comes directly up to me, kisses me, took me in his arms,and embraced me with so much passion that he could not speak, but Icould feel his breast heave and throb like a child, that cries, butsobs, and cannot cry it out.

  I can neither express nor describe the joy that touched my very soulwhen I found, for it was easy to discover that part, that he came notas a stranger, but as a son to a mother, and indeed as a son who hadnever before known what a mother of his own was; in short, we criedover one another a considerable while, when at last he broke out first.'My dear mother,' says he, 'are you still alive? I never expected tohave seen your face.' As for me, I could say nothing a great while.

  After we had both recovered ourselves a little, and were able to talk,he told me how
things stood. As to what I had written to his father, hetold me he had not showed my letter to his father, or told him anythingabout it; that what his grandmother left me was in his hands, and thathe would do me justice to my full satisfaction; that as to his father,he was old and infirm both in body and mind; that he was very fretfuland passionate, almost blind, and capable of nothing; and he questionedwhether he would know how to act in an affair which was of so nice anature as this; and that therefore he had come himself, as well tosatisfy himself in seeing me, which he could not restrain himself from,as also to put it into my power to make a judgment, after I had seenhow things were, whether I would discover myself to his father or no.

  This was really so prudently and wisely managed, that I found my sonwas a man of sense, and needed no direction from me. I told him I didnot wonder that his father was as he had described him, for that hishead was a little touched before I went away; and principally