John Barth - The Sot-Weed Factor

"A pretty tale indeed, if not a virtuous," Ebenezer said. "But did you learn no more of that old Burlingame, for whom you'd saved the ladies?"

"Aye," said Burlingame. "That same night I queried them whether 'twas but a fiction they'd contrived regarding Burlingame. And the maid replied 'twas no fiction at all, that her father was a great pretender to distinction, who, though he was in fact a bastard, was much concerned to glorify his lineage and was forever running hither and thither for ancient records, which his daughter had to search for the family name. 'Twas for just that cause they'd made the trip to Jamestown, where 'mid numerous musty papers she'd found what looked to be some pages of a journal writ by one Henry Burlingame. Howbeit, she gave it but a cursory reading, seeing it made no mention of her family, and recalled only that it spoke of some journey or other from Jamestown; that Captain John Smith was the leader; and that there seemed some ill feeling 'twixt him and the author of the journal. Past that she'd read no more nor could remember aught. 'Twas not long ere I'd had my fill of amorosities — for thirty-five hath no great stamina in such matters — and fell asleep beside the fire. When the sun aroused me in the morning I found the women gone, nor have I seen them since. 'Twas delicacy, methinks, that moved them ere I waked — full many a deed smells sweet at night that stinks in the heat of the sun. What's more, their reputations were secure, for at no time since we'd overhauled their ship had they revealed their names, nor more of where they lived save that 'twas on the Eastern Shore of Maryland."

"And did you make your way thence to Jamestown?"

"Nay, to Anne Arundel County and Captain Hill. I wanted sore to learn whether Coode had harmed him, and too I had not a farthing about me wherewith to eat. 'Twas my design to work awhile for Hill and then pursue my quest, for I will own I was not indifferent toward the politics of the place, and would have welcomed another mission like the one I'd just returned from."

"Thou'rt a glutton for adventure," Ebenezer said.

"Mayhap I am, or better, a glutton for the great world, of which I ne'er can see and learn enough."

"I'll warrant Captain Hill was pleased to see you, and surprised!"

"He was in sooth, for he had heard naught of me since Leisler's rebellion in New York, and feared me dead. He said his position was most perilous, inasmuch as Coode and his men were daily laying waste his enemies' estates, and had spared his either through caprice or uncertainty as to Hill's influence in England. 'Twas Coode's conceit to call himself Masaniello, after the rebel of Naples; Colonel Henry Jowles of Calvert County, his chief lieutenant, played Count Scamburgh; Colonel Ninian Beale the Earl of Argyle; and Kenelm Cheseldyne, the speaker of the Assembly, was Speaker Williams. While they played at court in this manner, and bragged and plundered down in St. Mary's, I spent the winter putting Hill's estate in order. Whene'er 'twas useful I made excursions about the province to the end of fomenting opposition in the several counties, and in the spring, when he got wind of't, Coode resolved to do us in. He trumped up a charge of treasonable speech and dispatched no fewer than forty men to destroy us. They seized the ship Hope, which Captain Hill had been at seven hundred pounds' expense to fit out for a voyage, and rifled the estate, and 'twas only our good fortune in escaping to the woods preserved our lives. "I went at first to sundry other sea-captains, friends of Hill's and enemies of Colonel Coode — "

"Colonel!" Ebenezer broke in. "Methought he was a priest!"

"The man is whate'er he chooses to call himself," Burlingame replied. "He owns to no authority save himself, and is a rebel 'gainst man and God alike. In any case, I learned from these men that Francis Nicholson, deposed by Leisler as a Jacobite, was now lieutenant governor of Virginia (which is to say the chief officer, since the governor lives in England), and this by order of King William himself! It seems the King little bothers what a man is called by his enemies, so long as he doth his job well, and in sooth Old Nick is the very devil of a governor for all his faults. These tidings fell sweetly on my ear, inasmuch as Nicholson was the very man who'd best protect us, and Jamestown the very place I wished to go. I had Hill's friends write letters to Nicholson, describing Coode's barbarity and asking asylum for the Captain and his house, and ere June was done we were in Jamestown. 'Masaniello' and his crew begged and threatened Nicholson by turns to get their hands on us, but de'il the good it did him. 'Tis both a fault and a virtue in Virginia, that fugitives from Maryland e'er find haven there."

"But did you find the precious journal-book you sought?" asked Ebenezer. "Or was't but a tale of a cock and a bull the lass on the strand had spun thee? Prithee put me off no farther on the matter; I must know whether such an odyssey bore fruit!"

Burlingame laughed. "Make not such haste to reach the end, Eben; it spoils the pace and mixes the figures. Whoever saw an odyssey bear fruit?"

"Tease no more!" Ebenezer cried.

"Very well, Master Laureate: I did indeed lay hands upon the journal, what of't there was; what's more, I made a copy of it, faithful to the letter save for one or two dull passages that I summarized. I have it here in my coat, and in the morning you shall read it. Suffice it now to say, I am persuaded 'tis a bona fide journal of Sir Henry Burlingame, but whether or no the fellow is my ancestor I've still no proof."

"I'faith, I'm glad you found it, and scarce can wait till dawn! 'Tis good thy tale is not yet done, else 'twere a hard matter to fret away the hours. What wondrous thing befell you next?"

"No more tonight," Burlingame declared. "The road is smoother here, and the night's nigh done. The balance of the tale can wait till Plymouth." So saying, he would hear no protest from Ebenezer, but stretching out his legs as best he could, went to sleep at once. The poet, however, was less fortunate: try as he might, he could not manage even to keep his eyes closed, much less resign himself to sleep, though his head throbbed from weariness. Again his mind was filled with names, the names first heard from Baltimore and now fleshed out by Burlingame's narration, and figures awful in their energy and purpose prowled his fancy — his friend and tutor first among them.

When after dawn the travelers stopped for their morning meal at Yeovil, Ebenezer demanded at once to see the document Burlingame had spoken of, but his tutor refused to hear of it until they'd eaten. Then, the sun having come out warm and bright, they retired outside to smoke and stretch their legs, and Burlingame fetched several folded sheets from the pocket of his coat. Atop the first the poet read The Privie Journall of Sir Henry Burlingame.

"I should explain the title's mine," said Burlingame. "As you can see, the journal is a fragment, but the journey it describes is writ in John Smith's Generall Historie. 'Twas in January of 1607, the first winter of the colony, and they traveled up the Chickahominy River to find the town of Powhatan, Emperor of the Indians. There was much ill feeling against Captain Smith in Jamestown at the time: some were alarmed at his machinations to unseat President Wingfield and President Ratcliffe; others charged him with flaunting the instructions of the London Company, in that he wasted little time searching for gold or for a water passage to the East; others yet were merely hungry, and thought he should arrange for trade with Powhatan. 'Tis plain the voyage up the Chickahominy was a happy expedient, for't promised solution to all these grievances: the Captain would be out of politics for a while, for one thing, and some declared the Chickahominy ran west to the Orient; in any case, 'twas almost certain the Emperor's town lay not many miles upriver. Smith tells in his Historie how he was made captive by one of Powhatan's lieutenants, called Opecancanough, and escaped death by means of magical tricks with his compass. He swears next he was carried alone to Powhatan, condemned to death, and saved by intercession of the Emperor's daughter. His version of't I have writ there under the title." Ebenezer read the brief superscription: