John Barth - The Sot-Weed Factor

Ebenezer sat weakly in a chair. "B'm'faith, how you alarmed me! I know you not from one hour to the next!"

"Nor should you try. Pour out a round of this admirable wine and reflect on what I told you at the inn some hours ago." He clapped the priest on the shoulder. " 'Tis an ungrateful guest that binds his host to a chair for the night, but there's naught for't. Besides, 'tis for that cause wherefore you'd die, and not by half so sore a martyrdom as gelding — n'est-ce pas?" He laughed at the priest's expression of disgust, and when the wine was poured, the guests commenced to read together the verso (which was in fact the original recto) of their prize:

Having receiv'd such cordiall use [so this fragment of the Historie began] at the hand of those Salvages at Accomack & those at the River of Wighcocomoco, we set out againe for the maine. .

"That is the town of Hicktopeake he refers to," Ebenezer volunteered, though in truth he was entertaining such a mixture of feelings towards his former tutor that he spoke only out of a sort of shyness. "The Laughing King of whom I told you. The other Indians I know naught of."

"There are two rivers called Wicomico in Maryland," Burlingame said thoughtfully. "One near St. Mary's County on the Western Shore and one below Dorchester County. Methinks 'tis the later he intends, if he coasted up the Bay from Accomac."

. .but for want of fresh water, in two daies had perforce to seeke out land, that we might replenishe our supplie. We found some Isles, all uninhabited & many in number, falling with a high land upon the maine.

"Haply 'twas the Calvert cliffs he chanced on," Ebenezer suggested, recalling his Island of the Seven Cities. "Let's read on."

Upon waving and going ashoar, we chanc'd on a pond of fresh water, but w chwas surpassing warme. Howbeit, we were so verie thirstie, that maugre my counsell to the contrarie, to witt, that the water was doubtlesse fowle, naught w ddoe but my companie must fille there barricoes withal, & drinke therefrom, till that there verie gutts did slushe about. This they learn'd to regrett, but of that, more anon.

From Wighcocomoco to this place, all the coast is but low broken Isles of Moras, a myle or two in breadth, & tenne or twelve in length, & foule and stinking by reason of the stagnant waters therein. Add to w ch, the aire is beclowded with vile meskitoes, that sucke at a mans bloud, as though they had never eate before. It is forsooth no countrie, for any save the Salvage. .

"That picture doth apply to one place only," laughed Burlingame, who had read the passage aloud. "Do you know it, Father?"

And the priest, his historical curiosity aroused despite his circumstances, nodded stiffly: "The Dorset marches."

"Aye," Burlingame confirmed. "The Hooper Islands, Bloodsworth Island, and South Marsh. There is a morsel for your epic, Ebenezer: the first white man to set foot on Dorset County."

Ebenezer made perfunctory acknowledgment, but pointed out that as yet the Captain had not gone ashore and perhaps would pass the county by. He showed less petulance in his reply to the priest, who professed great interest in the document and chagrin at having been thitherto unaware of its existence, and for his sake read the remainder of it aloud.

"Being thus refresh'd, despite my warnings, in moving over to other Isles, we incounter'd the winde & waters so much increas'd with thunder, lightning, & raine, that for all my souldiers & my selfe reef'd & belay'd the sayles & lines, our mast & sayle went by the board. Such mightie waves overrack'd us in that smalle barge, that with great persuasions I induc'd our Gentlemen to occupie them selves with freeing out the water, in their halts, for that else we had fownder'd & sunke. We anchor'd, being not neare any place that promis'd safe harbour, and there we sat a miserable two daies, while the gusts did blowe, with little to nourish our selves withal, save the vile water in the barricoes.

"This same water, the w chmy men had taken against my warning, prov'd to be foule indeed, for that upon slaking therewith there thirst, all the companie did growe wondrous grip'd of there bowells, and loose of there bladders, & took a weakness of there reins, so that they still had need of making water, & of voiding their severall bummes. Little my men did all the day long, & the night, while that we rode thus at anchor, but besmirch them selves. At length, the wether being warm, if squallie, I did order one & all to divest them selves of there breeches, the w chwere beshitt past rescue, and cast them to the fishes. This they all did, but with much compleynt, most markedlie from my rivall Burlingame, who looses no opening to sowe the seedes of discontent & faction."

"Thank Heav'n he is still among the party!" Burlingame exclaimed. "I feared old John had done him in after Accomac."

" 'Tis no light matter to choose betwixt the two," Ebenezer remarked. "Captain Smith is undeniably resourceful, and no leader can indulge factiousness save at his peril."

"True enough for you," Burlingame replied curtly. "He's not your ancestor. For me there is no problem in the choice."

"We've no certain knowledge he is your ancestor, either," the poet said. "When all's said and done, 'tis a marvelous slender chance, is't not?"

This observation so plainly injured Burlingame that Ebenezer at once regretted making it, and apologized.

"No matter." Burlingame waved him away. "Read on."

"Being left then, with there bummes expos'd, I did command, that they set them selves over the gunwales, inasmuch as the Bay of Chesapeake was of greate size, and c daccommodate them better then our barge. Yet this new command did little ease our plight, for that albeit they dropp'd there matter to the fishes, the aire round about was no lesse foul'd by there joynt labours. Naught c dour D rof Physick do to improve them, and I did wish heartilie to be on shoar, where with the sapp of the sweet-gumme tree & sundrie other herbes, w chgrewe a-plentie in the woods thereabouts, I c dhave brew'd a decoction, that had bound the lot of them costive for a fortnight. Forsooth, things did worsen yet, for that the sillie men w dnot restrayne there thirst, but still return'd and drank farther of the water, whereon there fluxes & gripes did intensifie apace. Onely two of our number shew'd no sign of the maladie, namelie my selfe, that had not deign'd to drinke of the barricoes, but had instead made my selfe to chewe upon raw fishes, and friend Burlingame, that had drunke enough for three, but that must needs have had a grand hold on his reins, for that he never did besmirch him selfe throughout those foule two daies.

"When the storme at length overblewe us, and the wether again shew'd faire, I did with all haste order, that the sayle be repair'd, and this the companie did with right good will, using of there shirts for clouts. They were most readie to abandon the maine, and sayle for some shoar, albeit they were now naked as Father Adam, so as to put food & cleanlie water into there bellies, and pass off there fluxes at last. For the extremitie of gusts, thunder, rayne, storms, & ill wether, we did call those Straites, wherein we had for so long layn, Limbo, but I think, with all the farting and ill businesse that did pass there, we had better call'd them Purgatorio.

"After a surpassing clumsie daye of sayling, making smalle headway, for the crewe must continuallie hang there bummies abeame, we fell with a prettie convenient river on the East, called Cuskarawaok. ."

"That is a word from the Nanticoke tongue," Father Smith interrupted. "In old times it was applied to that same river we call the Nanticoke today."

"I'faith, then!" Burlingame laughed. " 'Tis precious little ground he gained for all those evil days!" He explained to Ebenezer that the Nanticoke River, which marks the boundary between Dorchester and Somerset Counties, empties into Tangier Sound conjointly with the Wicomico, from where, the record seemed to imply, Smith had departed several days previously.