American Literature: Readings in American Literature Volume I- Chapter 1: Early American and Colonial Period to 1776

Chapter 1: Early American and Colonial Period to 1776

History of Plymouth Plantation by William Bradford ..............................................1

Poems by Anne Bradstreet ..........................................................................................6

Before the Birth of One of Her Children
Verses upon the Burning of Our House, July 18th, 1666.
To My Dear and Loving Husband.

From “The Day of Doom” by Michael Wigglesworth ................................................12

Narrative of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson..................14

The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus

Vassa, the African Written by Himself ..................................................................19

An Address to the Negroes in the State of New-York by Jupiter Hammon ..........27

The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin by Benjamin Franklin ........................32

Letters from an American Farmer by J. Hector St. John de Crèvecoeur ..............36

The American Crisis by Thomas Paine ....................................................................42

HISTORY OF PLYMOUTH

PLANTATION

by William Bradford

Being thus arrived in a good harbor, and

brought safe to land, they fell upon their knees

and blessed the God of Heaven who had brought

them over the fast and furious ocean, and

delivered them from all the perils and miseries

thereof, again to set their feet on the firm and

stable earth, their proper element. And no

marvel if they were thus joyful, seeing wise

Seneca was so affected with sailing a few miles

on the coast of his own Italy, as he affirmed,

that he had rather remain twenty years on his

way by land than pass by sea to any place in a

short time, so tedious and dreadful was the

same unto him.

But here I cannot but stay and make a pause,

and stand half amazed at this poor people’s

present condition; and so I think will the reader,

too, when he well considers the same. Being

thus passed the vast ocean, and a sea of

troubles before in their preparation (as may be

remembered by that which went before), they

had now no friends to welcome them nor inns to

entertain or refresh their weatherbeaten

bodies; no houses or much less towns to repair

to, to seek for succor. It is recorded in Scripture

as a mercy to the Apostle and his shipwrecked

company, that the barbarians showed them no

small kindness in refreshing them, but these

savage barbarians, when they met with them

(as after will appear) were readier to fill their

sides full of arrows than otherwise. And for the

season it was winter, and they know that the

winters of that country know them to be sharp

and violent, and subject to cruel and fierce

storms, dangerous to travel to known places,

much more to search an unknown coast.

Besides, what could they see but a hideous and

desolate wilderness, full of wild beasts and wild

men—and what multitudes there might be of

them they knew not. Neither could they, as it

were, go up to the top of Pisgah to view from

this wilderness a more goodly country to feed

their hopes; for which way soever they turned

their eyes (save upward to the heavens) they

could have little solace or content in respect of

any outward objects. For summer being done,

all things stand upon them with a

weatherbeaten face, and the whole country, full

of woods and thickets, represented a wild and

savage hue. If they looked behind them, there

was the mighty ocean which they had passed

and was now as a main bar and gulf to separate

them from all the civil parts of the world. If it be

said they had a ship to succor them, it is true;

but what heard they daily from the master and

company? But that with speed they should look

out a place (with their shallop) where they

would be, at some near distance; for the season

was such that he would not stir from thence till

a safe harbor was discovered by them, where

they would be, and he might go without danger;

and that victuals consumed space but he must

and would keep sufficient for themselves and

their return. Yea, it was muttered by some that

if they got not a place in time, they would turn

them and their goods ashore and leave them.

Let it also be considered what weak hopes of

supply and succor they left behind them, that

might bear up their minds in this sad condition

and trials they were under; and they could not

but be very small. It is true, indeed, the

affections and love of their brethren at Leyden

was cordial and entire towards them, but they

had little power to help them or themselves;

and how the case stood between them and the

merchants at their coming away hath already

been declared.

What could now sustain them but the Spirit of

God and His grace? May not and ought not the

children of these fathers rightly say: “Our

fathers were Englishmen which came over this

great ocean, and were ready to perish in this

wilderness; but they cried unto the Lord, and

He heard their voice and looked on their

adversity,” etc. “Let them therefore praise the

Lord, because He is good: and his mercies

endure forever. Yea, let them which have been

redeemed of the Lord, show how He hath

delivered them from the hand of the oppressor.

When they wandered in the desert wilderness

out of the way, and found no city to dwell in,

both hungry and thirsty, their soul was

overwhelmed in them.” “Let them confess

before the Lord His lovingkindness and His

wonderful works before the sons of men . . . ”

Being thus arrived at Cape Cod the 11th of

November, and necessity calling them to look

out a place for habitation (as well as the

master’s and mariner’s importunity); they

having brought a large shallop with them out of

England, stowed in quarters in the ship, they

now got her out and set their carpenters to work

to trim her up; but being much bruised and

shattered in the ship with foul weather, they

saw she would be long in mending. Whereupon

a few of them tendered themselves to go by land

and discover those nearest places, whilst the

shallop was in mending; and the rather because

as they went into that harbor there seemed to

be an opening some two or three leagues off,

which the master judged to be a river. It was

conceived there might be some danger in the

attempt, yet seeing them resolute, they were

permitted to go, being sixteen of them well

armed under the conduct of Captain Standish,

having such instructions given them as was

thought meet.

They set forth the 15 of November; and when

they had marched about the space of a mile by

the seaside, they espied five or six persons with

a dog coming towards them, who were savages;

but they fled from them and ran up into the

woods, and the English followed them, partly to

see if they could speak with them, and partly to

discover if there might not be more of them

lying in ambush. But the Indians seeing

themselves thus followed, they again forsook

the woods and ran away on the sands as hard as

they could, so as they could not come near them

but followed them by the track of their feet

sundry miles and saw that they had come the

same way. So, night coming on, they made their

rendezvous and set out their sentinels, and

rested in quiet that night; and the next morning

followed their track till they had headed a great

creek and so left the sands, and turned another

way into the woods. But they still followed them

by guess, hoping to find their dwellings; but

they soon lost both them and themselves,

falling into such thickets as were ready to tear

their clothes and armor in pieces; but were most

distressed for want of drink. But at length they

found water and refreshed themselves, being

the first New England water they drunk of, and

was now in great thirst as pleasant unto them

as wine or beer had been in foretimes.

Afterwards, they directed their course to come

to the other shore, for they knew it was a neck

of land they were to cross over, and so at length

got to the seaside and marched to this supposed

river, and by the way found a pond of clear,

fresh water, and shortly after a good quantity of

clear ground where the Indians had formerly

set corn, and some of their graves. And

proceeding further they saw new stubble where

corn had been set the same year; also they

found where lately a house had been, where

some planks and a great kettle was remaining,

and heaps of sand newly paddled with their

hands. Which, they digging up, found in them

divers fair Indian baskets filled with corn, and

some in ears, fair and good, of divers colors,

which seemed to them a very goodly sight

(having never seen any such before). This was

near the place of that supposed river they came

to seek, unto which they went and found it to

open itself into two arms with a high cliff of

sand in the entrance but more like to be creeks

of salt water than any fresh, for aught they saw;

and that there was good harborage for their

shallop, leaving it further to be discovered by

their shallop, when she was ready. So, their

time limited them being expired, they returned

to the ship lest they should be in fear of their

safety; and took with them part of the corn and

buried up the rest. And so, like the men from

Eshcol, carried with them of the fruits of the

land and showed their brethren; of which, and

their return, they were marvelously glad and

their hearts encouraged.

After this, the shallop being got ready, they set

out again for the better discovery of this place,

and the master of the ship desired to go himself.

So there went some thirty men but found it to

be no harbor for ships but only for boats. There

was also found two of their houses covered with

mats, and sundry of their implements in them,

but the people were run away and could not be

seen. Also there was found more of their corn

and of their beans of various colors; the corn

and beans they brought away, purposing to give

them full satisfaction when they should meet

with any of them as, about some six months

afterward they did, to their good content.

And here is to be noted a special providence of

God, and a great mercy to this poor people, that

here they got seed to plant them corn the next

year, or else they might have starved, for they

had none nor any likelihood to get any till the

season had been past, as the sequel did

manifest. Neither is it likely they had had this,

if the first voyage had not been made, for the

ground was now all covered with snow and hard

frozen; but the Lord is never wanting unto His

in their greatest needs; let His holy name have

all the praise. . . .

1. Read the sentence and select, from the choices below, the word closest in meaning to the

word in bold-faced type.

. . . they had now no friends to welcome them nor inns to entertain or refresh their

weatherbeaten bodies; no houses or much less towns to repair to, to seek for succor.

a. assistanceb. foodc. medicined. supplies

2. Using context clues from the passage, what do you think a “shallop” is?

a. large tool

b. boatc. trunkd. shed

3. Describe the conditions with which the first travelers from England met upon arriving at

Plymouth.

.
4. What can you surmise about the travelers’ breadth of experience after reading this quote

from the passage?

If they looked behind them, there was the mighty ocean which they had passed and was now

as a main bar and gulf to separate them from all the civil parts of the world.

5. The third paragraph in the passage speaks exclusively about the religious faith of these

people. What can you say about their level of faith? Why do you think this was true?

6. The passage describes a small group of men going on an expedition to explore the

surrounding landscape. What did they find on their journey? What did they do? In what way

did this trip turn out to be essential to their survival?

POEMS BY ANNE BRADSTREET

Before the Birth of One of Her Children

All things within this fading world hath end,

Adversity doth still our joys attend;

No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet,

But with death’s parting blow is sure to meet.

The sentence past is most irrevocable,

A common thing, yet oh, inevitable.

How soon, my Dear, death may my steps attend.

How soon’t may be thy lot to lose thy friend,

We both are ignorant, yet love bids me

These farewell lines to recommend to thee,

That when that knot’s untied that made us one,

I may seem thine, who in effect am none.

And if I see not half my days that’s due,

What nature would, God grant to yours and you;

The many faults that well you know I have

Let be interred in my oblivious grave;

If any worth or virtue were in me,

Let that live freshly in thy memory

And when thou feel’st no grief, as I no harms,

Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms.

And when thy loss shall be repaid with gains

Look to my little babes, my dear remains.

And if thou love thyself, or loved’st me,

These O protect from stepdame’s injury.

And if chance to thine eyes shall bring this verse,

With some sad sighs honour my absent hearse;

And kiss this paper for thy love’s dear sake,

Who with salt tears this last farewell did take.

1. What is the message of this poem? Why do you think Anne Bradstreet wrote it?

Verses upon the Burning of Our House, July 18th, 1666.

In silent night when rest I took,

For sorrow near I did not look,

I waken’d was with thund’ring noise

And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.

That fearful sound of “fire” and “fire,”

Let no man know is my Desire.

I, starting up, the light did spy,

And to my God my heart did cry

To straighten me in my Distress

And not to leave me succourless.

Then coming out, behold a space,

The flame consume my dwelling place.

And, when I could no longer look,

I blest his grace that gave and took,

That laid my goods now in the dust:

Yea, so it was, and so ‘twas just.

It was his own: it was not mine;

Far be it that I should repine.

He might of all justly bereft,

But yet sufficient for us left.

When by the Ruins oft I past,

My sorrowing eyes aside did cast,

And here and there the places spy

Where oft I sate, and long did lie.

Here stood that Trunk, and there that chest;

There lay that store I counted best:

My pleasant things in ashes lie,

And them behold no more shall I.

Under thy roof no guest shall sit,

Nor at thy Table eat a bit.

No pleasant talk shall ‘ere be told,

Nor things recounted done of old.

No Candle ‘ere shall shine in Thee,

Nor bridegroom’s voice ere heard shall bee.

In silence ever shalt thou lie;

Adieu, Adeiu; All’s vanity.

Then streight I ’gin my heart to chide,

And did thy wealth on earth abide,

Didst fix thy hope on mouldring dust,

The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?

Raise up thy thoughts above the sky

That dunghill mists away may flie.

Thou hast an house on high erect

Fram’d by that mighty Architect,

With glory richly furnished,

Stands permanent, though this be fled.

It’s purchased, and paid for too

By him who hath enough to do.

A prise so vast as is unknown,

Yet, by his gift, is made thine own.

There’s wealth enough; I need no more.

Farewell, my pelf, farewell, my store.

The world no longer let me love,

My hope and Treasure lies above.

2. The “mighty architect” to whom the poet refers is

a. Frank Lloyd Wright.b. her father.c. God.d. the local priest.

3. Name at least three things or opportunities that the author states she will miss as a result of

the fire.

4. What do you think the following line from the poem means?

Adieu, Adieu; All’s vanity.

5. What happens at the end of the poem? Does the narrator die? Does she change in some way?

Explain your reasoning.

To My Dear and Loving Husband

If ever two were one, then surely we.

If ever man were lov’d by wife, then thee.

If ever wife was happy in a man,

Compare with me, ye woman, if you can.

I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold

Or all the riches that the east doth hold.

My love is such that rivers cannot quench,

Nor aught but love from thee give recompense.

Thy love is such I can no way repay.

The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.

Then while we live, in love let’s so persevere

That when we live no more, we may live ever.

6. The poet describes her love for her husband as being more prized than

a. a bank full of money.b. a gilded palace.c. mines full of gold.d. a treasure chest of jewels.

7. Why does the poet say that she cannot repay her husband’s love? Explain your thoughts.

From “THE DAY OF DOOM”

by Michael Wigglesworth

Still was the night, Serene & Bright,

when all Men sleeping lay;

Calm was the season, and carnal reason

thought so ’twould last for ay.

Soul, take thine ease, let sorrow cease,

much good thou hast in store:

This was their Song, their Cups among,

the Evening before.

Wallowing in all kind of sin,

vile wretches lay secure:

The best of men had scarcely then

their Lamps kept in good ure.

Virgins unwise, who through disguise

amongst the best were number’d,

Had closed their eyes; yea, and the wise

through sloth and frailty slumber’d.

For at midnight brake forth a Light,

which turn’d the night to day,

And speedily a hideous cry

did all the world dismay.

Sinners awake, their hearts do ake,

trembling their loynes surprizeth;

Amaz’d with fear, by what they hear,

each one of them ariseth.

They rush from Beds with giddy heads,

and to their windows run,

Viewing this light, which shines more bright

than doth the Noon-day Sun.

Straightway appears (they see ’t with tears)

the Son of God most dread;

Who with his Train comes on amain

to Judge both Quick and Dead.

Before his face the Heav’ns gave place,

and Skies are rent asunder,

With mighty voice, and hideous noise,

more terrible than Thunder.

His brightness damps heav’ns glorious lamps

and makes them hang their heads,

As if afraid and quite dismay'd,

they quit their wonted steads.

No heart so bold, but now grows cold

and almost dead with fear:

No eye so dry, but now can cry,

and pour out many a tear.

Earth’s Potentates and pow’rful States,

Captains and Men of Might

Are quite abasht, their courage dasht

at this most dreadful sight.

1. In this poem, God is portrayed as

a. kind and forgiving.
b. vengeful and angry.
c. frightened and weak.
d. supportive and helpful.

2. Read the lines from the poem and select, from the choices below, the word(s) closest in meaning

to the word in bold-faced type.

Earth’s Potentates and pw’rful States, / Captains and Men of Might

a. servants
b. clergy
c. powerful leaders
d. common laborers

3. Explain what happens in the poem. What is it describing?

NARRATIVE OF THE

CAPTIVITY AND

RESTORATION OF MRS.

MARY ROWLANDSON

On the tenth of February 1675, came the

Indians with great numbers upon Lancaster:

their first coming was about sunrising; hearing

the noise of some guns, we looked out; several

houses were burning, and the smoke ascending

to heaven. There were five persons taken in one

house; the father, and the mother and a sucking

child, they knocked on the head; the other two

they took and carried away alive. There were

two others, who being out of their garrison upon

some occasion were set upon; one was knocked

on the head, the other escaped; another there

was who running along was shot and wounded,

and fell down; he begged of them his life,

promising them money (as they told me) but

they would not hearken to him but knocked him

in head, and stripped him naked, and split open

his bowels. Another, seeing many of the Indians

about his barn, ventured and went out, but was

quickly shot down. There were three others

belonging to the same garrison who were killed;

the Indians getting up upon the roof of the barn,

had advantage to shoot down upon them over

their fortification. Thus these murderous

wretches went on, burning, and destroying

before them.

At length they came and beset our own house,

and quickly it was the dolefulest day that ever

mine eyes saw. The house stood upon the edge

of a hill; some of the Indians got behind the hill,

others into the barn, and others behind

anything that could shelter them; from all

which places they shot against the house, so

that the bullets seemed to fly like hail; and

quickly they wounded one man among us, then

another, and then a third. About two hours

(according to my observation, in that amazing

time) they had been about the house before they

prevailed to fire it (which they did with flax and

hemp, which they brought out of the barn, and

there being no defense about the house, only

two flankers at two opposite corners and one of

them not finished); they fired it once and one

ventured out and quenched it, but they quickly

fired it again, and that took. Now is the

dreadful hour come, that I have often heard of

(in time of war, as it was the case of others), but

now mine eyes see it. Some in our house were

fighting for their lives, others wallowing in

their blood, the house on fire over our heads,

and the bloody heathen ready to knock us on

the head, if we stirred out. Now might we hear

mothers and children crying out for themselves,

and one another, “Lord, what shall we do?”

Then I took my children (and one of my sisters’,

hers) to go forth and leave the house: but as

soon as we came to the door and appeared, the

Indians shot so thick that the bullets rattled

against the house, as if one had taken an

handful of stones and threw them, so that we

were fain to give back. We had six stout dogs

belonging to our garrison, but none of them

would stir, though another time, if any Indian

had come to the door, they were ready to fly

upon him and tear him down. The Lord hereby

would make us the more acknowledge His

hand, and to see that our help is always in Him.

But out we must go, the fire increasing, and

coming along behind us, roaring, and the

Indians gaping before us with their guns,

spears, and hatchets to devour us. No sooner

were we out of the house, but my brother-in-law

(being before wounded, in defending the house,

in or near the throat) fell down dead, whereat

the Indians scornfully shouted, and hallowed,

and were presently upon him, stripping off his

clothes, the bullets flying thick, one went

through my side, and the same (as would seem)

through the bowels and hand of my dear child

in my arms. One of my elder sisters’ children,

named William, had then his leg broken, which

the Indians perceiving, they knocked him on

[his] head. Thus were we butchered by those

merciless heathen, standing amazed, with the

blood running down to our heels. My eldest

sister being yet in the house, and seeing those

woeful sights, the infidels hauling mothers one

way, and children another, and some wallowing

in their blood: and her elder son telling her that

her son William was dead, and myself was

wounded, she said, “And Lord, let me die with

them,” which was no sooner said, but she was

struck with a bullet, and fell down dead over

the threshold. I hope she is reaping the fruit of

her good labors, being faithful to the service of

God in her place. In her younger years she lay

under much trouble upon spiritual accounts, till

it pleased God to make that precious scripture

take hold of her heart, “And he said unto me,

my Grace is sufficient for thee” (2 Corinthians

12.9). More than twenty years after, I have

heard her tell how sweet and comfortable that

place was to her. But to return: the Indians

laid hold of us, pulling me one way, and the

children another, and said, “Come go along with

us”; I told them they would kill me: they

answered, if I were willing to go along with

them, they would not hurt me.

Oh the doleful sight that now was to behold at

this house! “Come, behold the works of the

Lord, what desolations he has made in the

earth.” Of thirty-seven persons who were in

this one house, none escaped either present

death, or a bitter captivity, save only one, who

might say as he, “And I only am escaped alone

to tell the News” (Job 1.15). There were twelve

killed, some shot, some stabbed with their

spears, some knocked down with their hatchets.

When we are in prosperity, Oh the little that we

think of such dreadful sights, and to see our

dear friends, and relations lie bleeding out their

heart-blood upon the ground. There was one

who was chopped into the head with a hatchet,

and stripped naked, and yet was crawling up

and down. It is a solemn sight to see so many

Christians lying in their blood, some here, and

some there, like a company of sheep torn by

wolves, all of them stripped naked by a

company of hell-hounds, roaring, singing,

ranting, and insulting, as if they would have

torn our very hearts out; yet the Lord by His

almighty power preserved a number of us from

death, for there were twenty-four of us taken

alive and carried captive.

I had often before this said that if the Indians

should come, I should choose rather to be killed

by them than taken alive, but when it came to

the trial my mind changed; their glittering

weapons so daunted my spirit, that I chose

rather to go along with those (as I may say)

ravenous beasts, than that moment to end my

days; and that I may the better declare what

happened to me during that grievous captivity,

I shall particularly speak of the several removes

we had up and down the wilderness.

The First Remove

Now away we must go with those barbarous

creatures, with our bodies wounded and

bleeding, and our hearts no less than our

bodies. About a mile we went that night, up

upon a hill within sight of the town, where they

intended to lodge. There was hard by a vacant

house (deserted by the English before, for fear

of the Indians). I asked them whether I might

not lodge in the house that night, to which they

answered, “What, will you love English men

still?” This was the dolefulest night that ever

my eyes saw. Oh the roaring, and singing and

dancing, and yelling of those black creatures in

the night, which made the place a lively

resemblance of hell. And as miserable was the

waste that was there made of horses, cattle,

sheep, swine, calves, lambs, roasting pigs, and

fowl (which they had plundered in the town),

some roasting, some lying and burning, and

some boiling to feed our merciless enemies; who

were joyful enough, though we were

disconsolate. To add to the dolefulness of the

former day, and the dismalness of the present

night, my thoughts ran upon my losses and sad

bereaved condition. All was gone, my husband

gone (at least separated from me, he being in

the Bay; and to add to my grief, the Indians told

me they would kill him as he came homeward),

my children gone, my relations and friends

gone, our house and home and all our

comforts—within door and without—all was

gone (except my life), and I knew not but the

next moment that might go too. There

remained nothing to me but one poor wounded

babe, and it seemed at present worse than

death that it was in such a pitiful condition,

bespeaking compassion, and I had no refreshing

for it, nor suitable things to revive it. Little do

many think what is the savageness and

brutishness of this barbarous enemy, Ay, even

those that seem to profess more than others

among them, when the English have fallen into

their hands.

Those seven that were killed at Lancaster the

summer before upon a Sabbath day, and the one

that was afterward killed upon a weekday, were

slain and mangled in a barbarous manner, by

one-eyed John, and Marlborough’s Praying

Indians, which Capt. Mosely brought to Boston,

as the Indians told me.

The Second Remove

But now, the next morning, I must turn my

back upon the town, and travel with them into

the vast and desolate wilderness, I knew not

whither. It is not my tongue, or pen, can

express the sorrows of my heart, and bitterness

of my spirit that I had at this departure: but

God was with me in a wonderful manner,

carrying me along, and bearing up my spirit,

that it did not quite fail. One of the Indians

carried my poor wounded babe upon a horse; it

went moaning all along, “I shall die, I shall die.”

I went on foot after it, with sorrow that cannot

be expressed. At length I took it off the horse,

and carried it in my arms till my strength

failed, and I fell down with it. Then they set me

upon a horse with my wounded child in my lap,

and there being no furniture upon the horse’s

back, as we were going down a steep hill we

both fell over the horse’s head, at which they,

like inhumane creatures, laughed, and rejoiced

to see it, though I thought we should there have

ended our days, as overcome with so many

difficulties. But the Lord renewed my strength

still, and carried me along, that I might see

more of His power; yea, so much that I could

never have thought of, had I not experienced it.

After this it quickly began to snow, and when

night came on, they stopped, and now down I

must sit in the snow, by a little fire, and a few

boughs behind me, with my sick child in my lap;

and calling much for water, being now (through

the wound) fallen into a violent fever. My own

wound also growing so stiff that I could scarce

sit down or rise up; yet so it must be, that I

must sit all this cold winter night upon the cold

snowy ground, with my sick child in my arms,

looking that every hour would be the last of its

life; and having no Christian friend near me,

either to comfort or help me. Oh, I may see the

wonderful power of God, that my Spirit did not

utterly sink under my affliction: still the Lord

upheld me with His gracious and merciful

spirit, and we were both alive to see the light of

the next morning.

1. The Native Americans forced the settlers out of the house by

a. holding a child captive.
b. sending a wild boar into the house.
c. filling it with smoke.
d. lighting it on fire.

2. Which literary element is used in the following description?

It is a solemn sight to see so many Christians lying in their blood, some here, and some there,

like a company of sheep, torn by wolves, . . .

a. metaphor
b. simile
c. irony
d. allusion

3. Read the sentence and then select, from the choices below, the word closest in meaning to the

word in bold-faced type.

And as miserable was the waste that was there made of horses, cattle, sheep, swine, calves,

lambs, roasting pigs, and fowl (which they had plundered in the town), some roasting, some

lying and burning, and some boiling to feed our merciless enemies; who were joyful enough,

though we were disconsolate.

a. furious
b. anxious
c. heartbroken
d. confused

4. Describe the opening scene of the passage. What event was occurring?

5. Which three words would you use to explain the author’s feelings toward the Native

Americans? Do you think she is justified? Why or why not?

6. Discuss the level of the narrator’s faith throughout this ordeal. What evidence can you cite

that supports what you say?

THE INTERESTING

NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE

OF OLAUDAH EQUIANO,

OR GUSTAVUS VASSA,

THE AFRICAN

Written by Himself

CHAPTER I

That part of Africa, known by the name of

Guinea, to which the trade for slaves is carried

on, extends along the coast above 3400 miles,

from the Senegal to Angola, and includes a

variety of kingdoms. Of these the most

considerable is the kingdom of Benen, both as to

extent and wealth, the richness and cultivation

of the soil, the power of its king, and the

number and warlike disposition of the

inhabitants. It is situated nearly under the line,

and extends along the coast about 170 miles,

but runs back into the interior part of Africa to

a distance hitherto I believe unexplored by any

traveller; and seems only terminated at length

by the empire of Abyssinia, near 1500 miles

from its beginning. This kingdom is divided into

many provinces or districts: in one of the most

remote and fertile of which, called Eboe, I was

born, in the year 1745, in a charming fruitful

vale, named Essaka. The distance of this

province from the capital of Benin and the sea

coast must be very considerable; for I had never

heard of white men or Europeans, nor of the

sea: and our subjection to the king of Benin was

little more than nominal; for every transaction

of the government, as far as my slender

observation extended, was conducted by the

chiefs or elders of the place. The manners and

government of a people who have little

commerce with other countries are generally

very simple; and the history of what passes in

one family or village may serve as a specimen of

a nation. My father was one of those elders or

chiefs I have spoken of, and was styled

Embrenche; a term, as I remember, importing

the highest distinction, and signifying in our

language a mark of grandeur. This mark is

conferred on the person entitled to it, by cutting

the skin across at the top of the forehead, and

drawing it down to the eye-brows; and while it

is in this situation applying a warm hand, and

rubbing it until it shrinks up into a thick weal

across the lower part of the forehead. Most of

the judges and senators were thus marked; my

father had long born it: I had seen it conferred

on one of my brothers, and I was also destined

to receive it by my parents. Those Embrence, or

chief men, decided disputes and punished

crimes; for which purpose they always

assembled together. The proceedings were

generally short; and in most cases the law of

retaliation prevailed. I remember a man was

brought before my father, and the other judges,

for kidnapping a boy; and, although he was the

son of a chief or senator, he was condemned to

make recompense by a man or woman slave.

Adultery, however, was sometimes punished

with slavery or death; a punishment which I

believe is inflicted on it throughout most of the

nations of Africa: so sacred among them is the

honour of the marriage bed, and so jealous are

they of the fidelity of their wives. Of this I

recollect an instance:—a woman was convicted

before the judges of adultery, and delivered

over, as the custom was, to her husband to be

punished. Accordingly he determined to put her

to death: but it being found, just before her

execution, that she had an infant at her breast;

and no woman being prevailed on to perform

the part of a nurse, she was spared on account

of the child. The men, however, do not preserve

the same constancy to their wives, which they

expect from them; for they indulge in a

plurality, though seldom in more than two.

Their mode of marriage is thus:—both parties

are usually betrothed when young by their

parents, (though I have known the males to

betroth themselves). On this occasion a feast is

prepared, and the bride and bridegroom stand

up in the midst of all their friends, who are

assembled for the purpose, while he declares

she is thenceforth to be looked upon as his wife,

and that no other person is to pay any

addresses to her. This is also immediately

proclaimed in the vicinity, on which the bride

retires from the assembly. Some time after she

is brought home to her husband, and then

another feast is made, to which the relations of

both parties are invited: her parents then

deliver her to the bridegroom, accompanied

with a number of blessings, and at the same

time they tie round her waist a cotton string of

the thickness of a goose-quill, which none but

married women are permitted to wear: she is

now considered as completely his wife; and at

this time the dowry is given to the new married

pair, which generally consists of portions of

land, slaves, and cattle, household goods, and

implements of husbandry. These are offered by

the friends of both parties; besides which the

parents of the bridegroom present gifts to those

of the bride, whose property she is looked upon

before marriage; but after it she is esteemed the

sole property of her husband. The ceremony

being now ended the festival begins, which is

celebrated with bonefires, and loud

acclamations of joy, accompanied with music

and dancing.

We are almost a nation of dancers, musicians,

and poets. Thus every great event, such as a

triumphant return from battle, or other cause of

public rejoicing is celebrated in public dances,

which are accompanied with songs and music

suited to the occasion. The assembly is

separated into four divisions, which dance

either apart or in succession, and each with a

character peculiar to itself. The first division

contains the married men, who in their dances

frequently exhibit feats of arms, and the

representation of a battle. To these succeed the

married women, who dance in the second

division. The young men occupy the third; and

the maidens the fourth. Each represents some

interesting scene of real life, such as a great

achievement, domestic employment, a pathetic

story, or some rural sport; and as the subject is

generally founded on some recent event, it is

therefore ever new. This gives our dances a

spirit and variety which I have scarcely seen

elsewhere. We have many musical instruments,

particularly drums of different kinds, a piece of

music which resembles a guitar, and another

much like a stickado. These last are chiefly used

by betrothed virgins, who play on them on all

grand festivals.

As our manners are simple, our luxuries are

few. The dress of both sexes is nearly the same.

It generally consists of a long piece of callico, or

muslin, wrapped loosely round the body,

somewhat in the form of a highland plaid. This

is usually dyed blue, which is our favourite

colour. It is extracted from a berry, and is

brighter and richer than any I have seen in

Europe. Besides this, our women of distinction

wear golden ornaments; which they dispose

with some profusion on their arms and legs.

When our women are not employed with the

men in tillage, their usual occupation is

spinning and weaving cotton, which they

afterwards dye, and make it into garments.

They also manufacture earthen vessels, of

which we have many kinds. Among the rest

tobacco pipes, made after the same fashion, and

used in the same manner, as those in Turkey.

Our manner of living is entirely plain; for as yet

the natives are unacquainted with those

refinements in cookery which debauch the

taste: bullocks, goats, and poultry, supply the

greatest part of their food. These constitute

likewise the principal wealth of the country,

and the chief articles of its commerce. The flesh

is usually stewed in a pan; to make it savoury

we sometimes use also pepper, and other spices,

and we have salt made of wood ashes. Our

vegetables are mostly plantains, eadas, yams,

beans, and Indian corn. The head of the family

usually eats alone; his wives and slaves have

also their separate tables. Before we taste food

we always wash our hands: indeed our

cleanliness on all occasions is extreme; but on

this it is an indispensable ceremony. After

washing, libation is made, by pouring out a

small portion of the food, in a certain place, for

the spirits of departed relations, which the

natives suppose to preside over their conduct,

and guard them from evil. They are totally

unacquainted with strong or spirituous

liquours; and their principal beverage is palm

wine. This is gotten from a tree of that name by

tapping it at the top, and fastening a large

gourd to it; and sometimes one tree will yield

three or four gallons in a night. When just

drawn it is of a most delicious sweetness; but in

a few days it acquires a tartish and more

spirituous flavour: though I never saw any one

intoxicated by it. The same tree also produces

nuts and oil. Our principal luxury is in

perfumes; one sort of these is an odoriferous

wood of delicious fragrance: the other a kind of

earth; a small portion of which thrown into the

fire diffuses a most powerful odour. We beat this

wood into powder, and mix it with palm oil; with

which both men and women perfume

themselves.

In our buildings we study convenience rather

than ornament. Each master of a family has a

large square piece of ground, surrounded with a

moat or fence, or enclosed with a wall made of

red earth tempered; which, when dry, is as hard

as brick. Within this are his houses to

accommodate his family and slaves; which, if

numerous, frequently present the appearance

of a village. In the middle stands the principal

building, appropriated to the sole use of the

master, and consisting of two apartments; in

one of which he sits in the day with his family,

the other is left apart for the reception of his

friends. He has besides these a distinct

apartment in which he sleeps, together with his

male children. On each side are the apartments

of his wives, who have also their separate day

and night houses. The habitations of the slaves

and their families are distributed throughout

the rest of the enclosure. These houses never

exceed one story in height: they are always built

of wood, or stakes driven into the ground,

crossed with wattles, and neatly plastered

within, and without. The roof is thatched with

reeds. Our day-houses are left open at the sides;

but those in which we sleep are always covered,

and plastered in the inside, with a composition

mixed with cow-dung, to keep off the different

insects, which annoy us during the night. The

walls and floors also of these are generally

covered with mats. Our beds consist of a

platform, raised three or four feet from the

ground, on which are laid skins, and different

parts of a spungy tree called plaintain. Our

covering is calico or muslin, the same as our

dress. The usual seats are a few logs of wood;

but we have benches, which are generally

perfumed, to accommodate strangers: these

compose the greater part of our household

furniture. Houses so constructed and furnished

require but little skill to erect them. Every man

is a sufficient architect for the purpose. The

whole neighbourhood afford their unanimous

assistance in building them and in return

receive, and expect no other recompense than a

feast.

As we live in a country where nature is prodigal

of her favours, our wants are few and easily

supplied; of course we have few manufactures.

They consist for the most part of calicoes,

earthern ware, ornaments, and instruments of

war and husbandry. But these make no part of

our commerce, the principal articles of which,

as I have observed, are provisions. In such a

state money is of little use; however we have

some small pieces of coin, if I may call them

such. They are made something like an anchor;

but I do not remember either their value or

denomination. We have also markets, at which

I have been frequently with my mother. These

are sometimes visited by stout mahoganycoloured

men from the south west of us: we call

them Oye-Eboe, which term signifies red men

living at a distance. They generally bring us

fire-arms, gunpowder, hats, beads, and dried

fish. The last we esteemed a great rarity, as our

waters were only brooks and springs. These

articles they barter with us for odoriferous

woods and earth, and our salt of wood ashes.

They always carry slaves through our land; but

the strictest account is exacted of their manner

of procuring them before they are suffered to

pass. Sometimes indeed we sold slaves to them,

but they were only prisoners of war, or such

among us as had been convicted of kidnapping,

or adultery, and some other crimes, which we

esteemed heinous. This practice of kidnapping

induces me to think, that, notwithstanding all

our strictness, their principal business among

us was to trepan our people. I remember too

they carried great sacks along with them, which

not long after I had an opportunity of fatally

seeing applied to that infamous purpose.

Our land is uncommonly rich and fruitful, and

produces all kinds of vegetables in great

abundance. We have plenty of Indian corn, and

vast quantities of cotton and tobacco. Our pine

apples grow without culture; they are about the

size of the largest sugar-loaf, and finely

flavoured. We have also spices of different

kinds, particularly pepper; and a variety of

delicious fruits which I have never seen in

Europe; together with gums of various kinds,

and honey in abundance. All our industry is

exerted to improve those blessings of nature.

Agriculture is our chief employment; and every

one, even the children and women, are engaged

in it. Thus we are all habituated to labour from

our earliest years. Every one contributes

something to the common stock; and as we are

unacquainted with idleness, we have no

beggars. The benefits of such a mode of living

are obvious. The West India planters prefer the

slaves of Benin or Eboe to those of any other

part of Guinea, for their hardiness, intelligence,

integrity, and zeal. Those benefits are felt by us

in the general healthiness of the people, and in

their vigour and activity; I might have added

too in their comeliness. Deformity is indeed

unknown amongst us, I mean that of shape.

Numbers of the natives of Eboe now in London

might be brought in support of this assertion:

for, in regard to complexion, ideas of beauty are

wholly relative. I remember while in Africa to

have seen three negro children, who were

tawny, and another quite white, who were

universally regarded by myself, and the natives

in general, as far as related to their

complexions, as deformed. Our women too were

in my eyes at least uncommonly graceful, alert,

and modest to a degree of bashfulness; nor do I

remember to have ever heard of an instance of

incontinence amongst them before marriage.

They are also remarkably cheerful. Indeed

cheerfulness and affability are two of the

leading characteristics of our nation.

1. An “Embrenche” was a mark of

a. dishonor.b. courage.c. grandeur.d. fear.

2. Give three reasons why the kingdom of Benin was thought to be the most powerful in the

area of Africa known as Guinea.

3. Describe the process of attaining the Embrenche.

4. Explain the Benin people’s feelings toward adultery. Is the treatment the same for men and

women?

5. Describe the ceremony, meaning, and aftermath of marriage in the kingdom of Benin.

6. In this society, what is the role played by music?

7. Describe the culture of this kingdom. Include food, dress, and tasks of the people in your

description.

8. Discuss the characteristics of the living arrangements for the people of this kingdom.

9. How does the author describe the nature of the people and the society overall?

AN ADDRESS TO THE

NEGROES IN THE STATE

OF NEW-YORK

by Jupiter Hammon

WHEN I am writing to you with a design to say

something to you for your good, and with a view

to promote your happiness, I can with truth and

sincerity join with the apostle Paul, when

speaking of his own nation the Jews, and say,

“That I have great heaviness and continual

sorrow in my heart for my brethren, my kinsmen

according to the flesh.” Yes my dear brethren,

when I think of you, which is very often, and of

the poor, despised and miserable state you are

in, as to the things of this world, and when I

think of your ignorance and stupidity, and the

great wickedness of the most of you, I am

pained to the heart. It is at times, almost too

much for human nature to bear, and I am

obliged to turn my thoughts from the subject or

endeavour to still my mind, by considering that

it is permitted thus to be, by that God who

governs all things, who seteth up one and

pulleth down another. While I have been

thinking on this subject, I have frequently had

great struggles in my own mind, and have been

at a loss to know what to do. I have wanted

exceedingly to say something to you, to call

upon you with the tenderness of a father and

friend, and to give you the last, and I may say,

dying advice, of an old man, who wishes our

best good in this world, and in the world to

come. But while I have had such desires, a

sense of my own ignorance, and unfitness to

teach others, has frequently discouraged me

from attempting to say any thing to you ; yet

when I thought of your situation, I could not

rest easy. When I was at Hartford in

Connecticut, where I lived during the war, I

published several pieces which were well

received, not only by those of my own colour, but

by a number of the white people, who thought

they might do good among their servants. This

is one consideration, among others, that

emboldens me now to publish what I have

written to you. Another is, I think you will be

more likely to listen to what is said, when you

know it comes from a negro, one your own

nation and colour, and therefore can have no

interest in deceiving you, or in saying any thing

to you, but what he really thinks is your

interest and duty to comply with. My age, I

think, gives me some right to speak to you, and

reason to expect you will hearken to my advice.

I am now upwards of seventy years old, and

cannot expect, though I am well, and able to do

almost any kind of business, to live much

longer. I have passed the common bounds set

for man, and must soon go the way of all the

earth. I have had more experience in the world

than the most of you, and I have seen a great

deal of the vanity, and wickedness of it. I have

great reason to be thankful that my lot has been

so much better than most slaves have had. I

suppose I have had more advantages and

privileges than most of you, who are slaves have

ever known, and I believe more than many

white people have enjoyed, for which I desire to

bless God, and pray that he may bless those

who have given them to me. I do not, my dear

friends, say these things about myself to make

you think that I am wiser or better than others;

but that you might hearken, without prejudice,

to what I have to say to you on the following

particulars.

Ist. Respecting obedience to masters. Now

whether it is right, and lawful, in the sight of

God, for them to make slaves of us or not, I am

certain that while we are slaves, it is our duty

to obey our masters, in all their lawful

commands, and mind them unless we are bid to

do that which we know to-be sin, or forbidden in

God’s word. The apostle Paul says, “Servants be

obedient to them that are your masters

according to the flesh, with fear and trembling

in singleness in your heart as unto christ : Not

with eye service, as men pleasers, but as the

servants of Christ doing the will of God from the

heart : With good will doing service to the Lord,

and not to men : Knowing that whatever thing

a man doeth the same shall he receive of the

Lord, whether he be bond or free.”—Here is a

plain command of God for us to obey our

masters. It may seem hard for us, if we think

our masters wrong in holding us slaves, to obey

in all things, but who of us dare dispute with

God! He has commanded us to obey, and we

ought to do it chearfully, and freely. This should

be done by us, not only because God commands,

but because our own peace and comfort depend

upon it. As we depend upon our masters, for

what we eat and drink and wear, and for all our

comfortable things in this world, we cannot be

happy, unless we please them. This we cannot

do without obeying them freely, without

muttering or finding fault. If a servant strives

to please his master and studies and takes

pains to do it, I believe there are but few

masters who would use such a servant cruelly.

Good servants frequently make good masters. If

your master is really hard, unreasonable and

cruel, there is no way so likely for you to

convince him of it, as always to obey his

commands, and try to serve him, and take care

of his interest, and try to promote it all in your

power. If you are proud and stubborn and

always finding fault, your master will think the

fault lies wholly on your side, but if you are

humble, and meek, and bear all things

patiently, your master may think he is wrong, if

he does not, his neighbours will be apt to see it,

and will befriend you, and try to alter his

conduct. If this does not do, you must cry to

him, who has the hearts of all men in his hands,

and turneth them as the rivers of waters are

turned.

2d: The particular I would mention, is honesty

and faithfulness. You must suffer me now to

deal plainly with you, my dear brethren, for I do

not mean to flatter, or omit speaking the truth,

whether it is for you, or against you. How many

of you are there who allow yourselves in

stealing from your masters. It is very wicked for

you not to take care of your masters goods, but

how much worse is it to pilfer and steal from

them, whenever you think you shall not be

found out. This you must know is very wicked

and provoking to God. There are none of you so

ignorant, but that you must know that this is

wrong. Though you may try to excuse

yourselves, by saying that your masters are

unjust to you, and though you may try to quiet

your consciences in this way, yet if you are

honest in owning the truth you must think it is

as wicked, and on some accounts more wicked

to steal from your masters, than from others.

We cannot certainly, have any excuse either for

taking any thing that belongs to our masters

without their leave, or for being unfaithful in

their business. It is our duty to be faithful, not

with eye service as men pleasers. We have no

right to stay when we are sent on errands, any

longer than to do the business we were sent

upon. All the time spent idly, is spent wickedly,

and is unfaithfulness to our masters. In these

things I must say, that I think many of you are

guilty. I know that many of you endeavour to

excuse yourselves, and say that you have

nothing that you can call your own, and that

you are under great temptations to be

unfaithful and take from your masters. But this

will not do, God will certainly punish you for

stealing and for being unfaithful. All that we

have to mind is our own duty. If God has put us

in bad circumstances that is not our fault and

he will not punish us for it. If any are wicked in

keeping us so, we cannot help it, they must

answer to God for it. Nothing will serve as an

excuse to us for not doing our duty. The same

God will judge both them and us. Pray then my

dear friends, fear to offend in this way, but be

faithful to God, to your masters, and to your

own souls.

1. The writer tells the people to “be faithful to God, to your masters, and to

a. your country.”b. your principles.”c. your families.”d. your own souls.”

2. Judging from the tone of the opening of the passage, who do you think is speaking? In other

words, do you think the author is a white person or a black person? How old do you think the

person is? Write a brief paragraph in which you answer these questions and explain why you

responded the way you did.

3. Why does the writer feel compelled to address this group?

4. What is the writer’s feeling about slavery and obedience? Are you surprised? Why or why

not? Include his explanation of the difference between men pleasers and servants of God.

5. What is the author’s advice to the Negroes regarding theft from the masters?

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY

OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN

by Benjamin Franklin

I have been the more particular in this

description of my journey, and shall be so of my

first entry into that city, that you may in your

mind compare such unlikely beginnings with

the figure I have since made there. I was in my

working dress, my best cloaths being to come

round by sea. I was dirty from my journey; my

pockets were stuff’d out with shirts and

stockings, and I knew no soul nor where to look

for lodging. I was fatigued with travelling,

rowing, and want of rest, I was very hungry;

and my whole stock of cash consisted of a Dutch

dollar, and about a shilling in copper. The latter

I gave the people of the boat for my passage,

who at first refus’d it, on account of my rowing;

but I insisted on their taking it. A man being

sometimes more generous when he has but a

little money than when he has plenty, perhaps

thro’ fear of being thought to have but little.

Then I walked up the street, gazing about till

near the market-house I met a boy with bread.

I had made many a meal on bread, and,

inquiring where he got it, I went immediately to

the baker’s he directed me to, in Secondstreet,

and ask’d for bisket, intending such as we had

in Boston; but they, it seems, were not made in

Philadelphia. Then I asked for a three-penny

loaf, and was told they had none such. So not

considering or knowing the difference of money,

and the greater cheapness nor the names of his

bread, I made him give me three-penny worth of

any sort. He gave me, accordingly, three great

puffy rolls. I was surpriz’d at the quantity, but

took it, and, having no room in my pockets,

walk’d off with a roll under each arm, and

eating the other. Thus I went up Market-street

as far as Fourth-street, passing by the door of

Mr. Read, my future wife’s father; when she,

standing at the door, saw me, and thought I

made, as I certainly did, a most awkward,

ridiculous appearance. Then I turned and went

down Chestnut-street and part of Walnutstreet,

eating my roll all the way, and, coming

round, found myself again at Market-street

wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went

for a draught of the river water; and, being

filled with one of my rolls, gave the other two to

a woman and her child that came down the

river in the boat with us, and were waiting to go

farther.

Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street,

which by this time had many clean-dressed

people in it, who were all walking the same way.

I joined them, and thereby was led into the

great meeting-house of the Quakers near the

market. I sat down among them, and, after

looking round awhile and hearing nothing said,

being very drowsy thro’ labor and want of rest

the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and

continued so till the meeting broke up, when

one was kind enough to rouse me. This was,

therefore, the first house I was in, or slept in, in

Philadelphia.

Walking down again toward the river, and,

looking in the faces of people, I met a young

Quaker man, whose countenance I lik’d, and,

accosting him, requested he would tell me

where a stranger could get lodging. We were

then near the sign of the Three Mariners.

“Here,” says he, “is one place that entertains

strangers, but it is not a reputable house; if thee

wilt walk with me, I’ll show thee a better.” He

brought me to the Crooked Billet in Waterstreet.

Here I got a dinner; and, while I was

eating it, several sly questions were asked me,

as it seemed to be suspected from my youth and

appearance, that I might be some runaway.

After dinner, my sleepiness return’d, and being

shown to a bed, I lay down without undressing,

and slept till six in the evening, was call’d to

supper, went to bed again very early, and slept

soundly till next morning. Then I made myself

as tidy as I could, and went to Andrew Bradford

the printer’s. I found in the shop the old man

his father, whom I had seen at New York, and

who, travelling on horseback, had got to

Philadelphia before me. He introduc’d me to his

son, who receiv’d me civilly, gave me a

breakfast, but told me he did not at present

want a hand, being lately suppli’d with one; but

there was another printer in town, lately set up,

one Keimer, who, perhaps, might employ me; if

not, I should be welcome to lodge at his house,

and he would give me a little work to do now

and then till fuller business should offer.

The old gentleman said he would go with me to

the new printer; and when we found him,

“Neighbor,” says Bradford, “I have brought to

see you a young man of your business; perhaps

you may want such a one.” He ask’d me a few ,

put a composing stick in my hand to see how I

work’d, and then said he would employ me soon,

though he had just then nothing for me to do;

and, taking old Bradford, whom he had never

seen before, to be one of the town’s people that

had a good will for him, enter’d into a

conversation on his present undertaking and

projects; while Bradford, not discovering that

he was the other printer’s father, on Keimer’s

saying he expected soon to get the greatest part

of the business into his own hands, drew him on

by artful , and starting little doubts, to explain

all his views, what interests he reli’d on, and in

what manner he intended to proceed. I, who

stood by and heard all, saw immediately that

one of them was a crafty old sophister, and the

other a mere novice. Bradford left me with

Keimer, who was greatly surpris’d when I told

him who the old man was.

Keimer’s printing-house, I found, consisted of

an old shatter’d press, and one small, worn-out

font of English which he was then using

himself, composing an Elegy on Aquila Rose,

before mentioned, an ingenious young man, of

excellent character, much respected in the

town, clerk of the Assembly, and a pretty poet.

Keimer made verses too, but very indifferently.

He could not be said to write them, for his

manner was to compose them in the types

directly out of his head. So there being no copy,

but one pair of cases, and the Elegy likely to

require all the letter, no one could help him. I

endeavor’d to put his press (which he had not

yet us’d, and of which he understood nothing)

into order fit to be work’d with; and, promising

to come and print off his Elegy as soon as he

should have got it ready, I return’d to

Bradford’s, who gave me a little job to do for the

present, and there I lodged and dieted, A few

days after, Keimer sent for me to print off the

Elegy. And now he had got another pair of cases,

and a pamphlet to reprint, on which he set me

to work.

These two printers I found poorly qualified for

their business. Bradford had not been bred to it,

and was very illiterate; and Keimer, tho’

something of a scholar, was a mere compositor,

knowing nothing of presswork. He had been

one of the French prophets, and could act their

enthusiastic agitations. At this time he did not

profess any particular religion, but something

of all on occasion; was very ignorant of the

world, and had, as I afterward found, a good

deal of the knave in his composition. He did not

like my lodging at Bradford’s while I work’d

with him. He had a house, indeed, but without

furniture, so he could not lodge me; but he got

me a lodging at Mr. Read’s, before mentioned,

who was the owner of his house; and, my chest

and clothes being come by this time, I made

rather a more respectable appearance in the

eyes of Miss Read than I had done when she

first happen’d to see me eating my roll in the

street.

I began now to have some acquaintance among

the young people of the town, that were lovers

of reading, with whom I spent my evenings very

pleasantly; and gaining money by my industry

and frugality, I lived very agreeably, forgetting

Boston as much as I could, and not desiring that

any there should know where I resided, except

my friend Collins, who was in my secret, and

kept it when I wrote to him.

1. Franklin’s first night was spent in the meetinghouse of a group known as the

a. Puritans.b. Quakers.c. Fundamentalists.d. Baptists.

2. Franklin is searching for work as

a. a blacksmith.b. a writer.c. a printer.d. an artist.

3. Read the sentence and select, from the choices below, the word closest in meaning to the

word in bold-faced type.

I, who stood by and heard all, saw immediately that one of them was a crafty old sophister,

and the other a mere novice.

a. liarb. scholarc. inventord. dreamer

4. Franklin writes that he gained money by employing

a. patience and hope.b. intelligence and ambition.c. industry and frugality.d. deception and trickery.

5. “A man being sometimes more generous when he has but a little money than when he has

plenty, perhaps thro’ fear of being thought to have but little.”

What is the meaning behind this quote?

6. What can you tell about the narrator as he relays his experience when trying to buy bread?

LETTERS FROM AN

AMERICAN FARMER

by J. Hector St. John de Crèvecoeur

LETTER III

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN

I wish I could be acquainted with the feelings

and thoughts which must agitate the heart and

present themselves to the mind of an

enlightened Englishman, when he first lands on

this continent. He must greatly rejoice that he

lived at a time to see this fair country

discovered and settled; he must necessarily feel

a share of national pride, when he views the

chain of settlements which embellishes these

extended shores. When he says to himself, this

is the work of my countrymen, who, when

convulsed by factions, afflicted by a variety of

miseries and wants, restless and impatient,

took refuge here. They brought along with them

their national genius, to which they principally

owe what liberty they enjoy, and what

substance they possess. Here he sees the

industry of his native country displayed in a

new manner, and traces in their works the

embryos of all the arts, sciences, and ingenuity

which nourish in Europe. Here he beholds fair

cities, substantial villages, extensive fields, an

immense country filled with decent houses,

good roads, orchards, meadows, and bridges,

where an hundred years ago all was wild,

woody, and uncultivated! What a train of

pleasing ideas this fair spectacle must suggest;

it is a prospect which must inspire a good

citizen with the most heartfelt pleasure. The

difficulty consists in the manner of viewing so

extensive a scene. He is arrived on a new

continent; a modern society offers itself to his

contemplation, different from what he had

hitherto seen. It is not composed, as in Europe,

of great lords who possess everything, and of a

herd of people who have nothing. Here are no

aristocratical families, no courts, no kings, no

bishops, no ecclesiastical dominion, no invisible

power giving to a few a very visible one; no

great manufacturers employing thousands, no

great refinements of luxury. The rich and the

poor are not so far removed from each other as

they are in Europe. Some few towns excepted,

we are all tillers of the earth, from Nova Scotia

to West Florida. We are a people of cultivators,

scattered over an immense territory,

communicating with each other by means of

good roads and navigable rivers, united by the

silken bands of mild government, all respecting

the laws, without dreading their power, because

they are equitable. We are all animated with

the spirit of an industry which is unfettered and

unrestrained, because each person works for

himself. If he travels through our rural districts

he views not the hostile castle, and the haughty

mansion, contrasted with the clay- built hut

and miserable cabin, where cattle and men help

to keep each other warm, and dwell in

meanness, smoke, and indigence. A pleasing

uniformity of decent competence appears

throughout our habitations. The meanest of our

log-houses is a dry and comfortable habitation.

Lawyer or merchant are the fairest titles our

towns afford; that of a farmer is the only

appellation of the rural inhabitants of our

country. It must take some time ere he can

reconcile himself to our dictionary, which is but

short in words of dignity, and names of honour.

There, on a Sunday, he sees a congregation of

respectable farmers and their wives, all clad in

neat homespun, well mounted, or riding in their

own humble waggons.

There is not among them an esquire, saving the

unlettered magistrate. There he sees a parson

as simple as his flock, a farmer who does not

riot on the labour of others. We have no princes,

for whom we toil, starve, and bleed: we are the

most perfect society now existing in the world.

Here man is free as he ought to be; nor is this

pleasing equality so transitory as many others

are. Many ages will not see the shores of our

great lakes replenished with inland nations,

nor the unknown bounds of North America

entirely peopled.

Who can tell how far it extends? Who can tell

the millions of men whom it will feed and

contain? for no European foot has as yet

travelled half the extent of this mighty

continent!

The next wish of this traveller will be to know

whence came all these people? they are a

mixture of English, Scotch, Irish, French,

Dutch, Germans, and Swedes. From this

promiscuous breed, that race now called

Americans have arisen. The eastern provinces

must indeed be excepted, as being the unmixed

descendants of Englishmen. I have heard many

wish that they had been more intermixed also:

for my part, I am no wisher, and think it much

better as it has happened. They exhibit a most

conspicuous figure in this great and variegated

picture; they too enter for a great share in the

pleasing perspective displayed in these thirteen

provinces. I know it is fashionable to reflect on

them, but I respect them for what they have

done; for the accuracy and wisdom with which

they have settled their territory; for the decency

of their manners; for their early love of letters;

their ancient college, the first in this

hemisphere; for their industry; which to me

who am but a farmer, is the criterion of

everything. There never was a people, situated

as they are, who with so ungrateful a soil have

done more in so short a time. Do you think that

the monarchical ingredients which are more

prevalent in other governments, have purged

them from all foul stains? Their histories assert

the contrary.

In this great American asylum, the poor of

Europe have by some means met together, and

in consequence of various causes; to what

purpose should they ask one another what

countrymen they are? Alas, two thirds of them

had no country. Can a wretch who wanders

about, who works and starves, whose life is a

continual scene of sore affliction or pinching

penury; can that man call England or any other

kingdom his country? A country that had no

bread for him, whose fields procured him no

harvest, who met with nothing but the frowns

of the rich, the severity of the laws, with jails

and punishments; who owned not a single foot

of the extensive surface of this planet? No!

urged by a variety of motives, here they came.

Every thing has tended to regenerate them;

new laws, a new mode of living, a new social

system; here they are become men: in Europe

they were as so many useless plants, wanting

vegetative mould, and refreshing showers; they

withered, and were mowed down by want,

hunger, and war; but now by the power of

transplantation, like all other plants they have

taken root and flourished! Formerly they were

not numbered in any civil lists of their country,

except in those of the poor; here they rank as

citizens. By what invisible power has this

surprising metamorphosis been performed? By

that of the laws and that of their industry. The

laws, the indulgent laws, protect them as they

arrive, stamping on them the symbol of

adoption; they receive ample rewards for their

labours; these accumulated rewards procure

them lands; those lands confer on them the title

of freemen, and to that title every benefit is

affixed which men can possibly require. This is

the great operation daily performed by our

laws. From whence proceed these laws? From

our government. Whence the government? It is

derived from the original genius and strong

desire of the people ratified and confirmed by

the crown. This is the great chain which links

us all, this is the picture which every province

exhibits, Nova Scotia excepted.

There the crown has done all; either there were

no people who had genius, or it was not much

attended to: the consequence is, that the

province is very thinly inhabited indeed; the

power of the crown in conjunction with the

musketos has prevented men from settling

there. Yet some parts of it flourished once, and

it contained a mild harmless set of people. But

for the fault of a few leaders, the whole were

banished. The greatest political error the crown

ever committed in America, was to cut off men

from a country which wanted nothing but men!

What attachment can a poor European

emigrant have for a country where he had

nothing? The knowledge of the language, the

love of a few kindred as poor as himself, were

the only cords that tied him: his country is now

that which gives him land, bread, protection,

and consequence: Ubi panis ibi patria, is the

motto of all emigrants.

What then is the American, this new man? He

is either an European, or the descendant of an

European, hence that strange mixture of blood,

which you will find in no other country. I could

point out to you a family whose grandfather

was an Englishman, whose wife was Dutch,

whose son married a French woman, and whose

present four sons have now four wives of

different nations. He is an American, who,

leaving behind him all his ancient prejudices

and manners, receives new ones from the new

mode of life he has embraced, the new

government he obeys, and the new rank he

holds. He becomes an American by being

received in the broad lap of our great Alma

Mater.

Here individuals of all nations are melted into a

new race of men, whose labours and posterity

will one day cause great changes in the world.

Americans are the western pilgrims, who are

carrying along with them that great mass of

arts, sciences, vigour, and industry which began

long since in the east; they will finish the great

circle. The Americans were once scattered all

over Europe; here they are incorporated into

one of the finest systems of population which

has ever appeared, and which will hereafter

become distinct by the power of the different

climates they inhabit. The American ought

therefore to love this country much better than

that wherein either he or his forefathers were

born. Here the rewards of his industry follow

with equal steps the progress of his labour; his

labour is founded on the basis of nature, SELFINTEREST:

can it want a stronger allurement?

Wives and children, who before in vain

demanded of him a morsel of bread, now, fat

and frolicsome, gladly help their father to clear

those fields whence exuberant crops are to arise

to feed and to clothe them all; without any part

being claimed, either by a despotic prince, a rich

abbot, or a mighty lord. Here religion demands

but little of him; a small voluntary salary to the

minister, and gratitude to God; can he refuse

these? The American is a new man, who acts

upon new principles; he must therefore

entertain new ideas, and form new opinions.

From involuntary idleness, servile dependence,

penury, and useless labour, he has passed to

toils of a very different nature, rewarded by

ample subsistence.—This is an American.

1. During the time period about which the passage speaks, how was communication

accomplished?

a. telephoneb. letter writingc. travel on roads and riversd. extensive messenger services

2. According to the author, the criterion of everything is

a. commitment to God.b. bravery at all costs.c. financial well-being.d. the industrious nature of the people.

3. Read the sentence and select, from the choices below, the word closest in meaning to the

word in bold-faced type.

Can a wretch who wanders about, who works and starves, whose life is a continual scene of

sore affliction or pinching penury; can that man call England or any other kingdom his

country?

a. destitutionb. illnessc. imprisonmentd. sorrow

4. Summarize the opening paragraph in which the author describes the feelings of the

Englishman as he reflects on the accomplishments in the new world.

5. What problems or societal differences were faced and overcome by the English settlers?

Name at least three.

6. Use the following quote from the passage to explain the basic idea behind the concept of “the American dream.”

We are all animated with the spirit of an industry which is unfettered and unrestrained,

because each person works for himself.

7. “Who can tell how far it extends? Who can tell the millions of men whom it will feed and

contain?”

What were the messages behind these questions?

8. Ultimately, how does the author define this new entity called the American?

THE AMERICAN CRISIS

by Thomas Paine

THESE are the times that try men’s souls. The

summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will,

in this crisis, shrink from the service of their

country; but he that stands it now, deserves the

love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny,

like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have

this consolation with us, that the harder the

conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What

we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is

dearness only that gives every thing its value.

Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon

its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so

celestial an article as FREEDOM should not be

highly rated. Britain, with an army to enforce

her tyranny, has declared that she has a right

(not only to TAX) but “to BIND us in ALL

CASES WHATSOEVER,” and if being bound in

that manner, is not slavery, then is there not

such a thing as slavery upon earth. Even the

expression is impious; for so unlimited a power

can belong only to God.

Whether the independence of the continent was

declared too soon, or delayed too long, I will not

now enter into as an argument; my own simple

opinion is, that had it been eight months

earlier, it would have been much better. We did

not make a proper use of last winter, neither

could we, while we were in a dependent state.

However, the fault, if it were one, was all our

own; we have none to blame but ourselves. But

no great deal is lost yet. All that Howe has been

doing for this month past, is rather a ravage

than a conquest, which the spirit of the Jerseys,

a year ago, would have quickly repulsed, and

which time and a little resolution will soon

recover.

I have as little superstition in me as any man

living, but my secret opinion has ever been, and

still is, that God Almighty will not give up a

people to military destruction, or leave them

unsupportedly to perish, who have so earnestly

and so repeatedly sought to avoid the calamities

of war, by every decent method which wisdom

could invent. Neither have I so much of the

infidel in me, as to suppose that He has

relinquished the government of the world, and

given us up to the care of devils; and as I do not,

I cannot see on what grounds the king of

Britain can look up to heaven for help against

us: a common murderer, a highwayman, or a

house-breaker, has as good a pretence as he.

‘Tis surprising to see how rapidly a panic will

sometimes run through a country. All nations

and ages have been subject to them. Britain has

trembled like an ague at the report of a French

fleet of flat-bottomed boats; and in the

fourteenth [fifteenth] century the whole

English army, after ravaging the kingdom of

France, was driven back like men petrified with

fear; and this brave exploit was performed by a

few broken forces collected and headed by a

woman, Joan of Arc. Would that heaven might

inspire some Jersey maid to spirit up her

countrymen, and save her fair fellow sufferers

from ravage and ravishment! Yet panics, in

some cases, have their uses; they produce as

much good as hurt. Their duration is always

short; the mind soon grows through them, and

acquires a firmer habit than before. But their

peculiar advantage is, that they are the

touchstones of sincerity and hypocrisy, and

bring things and men to light, which might

otherwise have lain forever undiscovered. In

fact, they have the same effect on secret

traitors, which an imaginary apparition would

have upon a private murderer. They sift out the

hidden thoughts of man, and hold them up in

public to the world. Many a disguised Tory has

lately shown his head, that shall penitentially

solemnize with curses the day on which Howe

arrived upon the Delaware.

As I was with the troops at Fort Lee, and

marched with them to the edge of

Pennsylvania, I am well acquainted with many

circumstances, which those who live at a

distance know but little or nothing of. Our

situation there was exceedingly cramped, the

place being a narrow neck of land between the

North River and the Hackensack. Our force was

inconsiderable, being not one-fourth so great as

Howe could bring against us. We had no army

at hand to have relieved the garrison, had we

shut ourselves up and stood on our defence. Our

ammunition, light artillery, and the best part of

our stores, had been removed, on the

apprehension that Howe would endeavor to

penetrate the Jerseys, in which case Fort Lee

could be of no use to us; for it must occur to

every thinking man, whether in the army or

not, that these kind of field forts are only for

temporary purposes, and last in use no longer

than the enemy directs his force against the

particular object which such forts are raised to

defend. Such was our situation and condition at

Fort Lee on the morning of the 20th of

November, when an officer arrived with

information that the enemy with 200 boats had

landed about seven miles above; Major General

[Nathaniel] Green, who commanded the

garrison, immediately ordered them under

arms, and sent express to General Washington

at the town of Hackensack, distant by the way

of the ferry = six miles. Our first object was to

secure the bridge over the Hackensack, which

laid up the river between the enemy and us,

about six miles from us, and three from them.

General Washington arrived in about threequarters

of an hour, and marched at the head of

the troops towards the bridge, which place I

expected we should have a brush for; however,

they did not choose to dispute it with us, and

the greatest part of our troops went over the

bridge, the rest over the ferry, except some

which passed at a mill on a small creek,

between the bridge and the ferry, and made

their way through some marshy grounds up to

the town of Hackensack, and there passed the

river. We brought off as much baggage as the

wagons could contain, the rest was lost. The

simple object was to bring off the garrison, and

march them on till they could be strengthened

by the Jersey or Pennsylvania militia, so as to

be enabled to make a stand. We staid four days

at Newark, collected our out-posts with some of

the Jersey militia, and marched out twice to

meet the enemy, on being informed that they

were advancing, though our numbers were

greatly inferior to theirs. Howe, in my little

opinion, committed a great error in generalship

in not throwing a body of forces off from Staten

Island through Amboy, by which means he

might have seized all our stores at Brunswick,

and intercepted our march into Pennsylvania;

but if we believe the power of hell to be limited,

we must likewise believe that their agents are

under some providential control . . .

I thank God, that I fear not. I see no real cause

for fear. I know our situation well, and can see

the way out of it. While our army was collected,

Howe dared not risk a battle; and it is no credit

to him that he decamped from the White Plains,

and waited a mean opportunity to ravage the

defenceless Jerseys; but it is great credit to us,

that, with a handful of men, we sustained an

orderly retreat for near an hundred miles,

brought off our ammunition, all our field pieces,

the greatest part of our stores, and had four

rivers to pass. None can say that our retreat

was precipitate, for we were near three weeks

in performing it, that the country might have

time to come in. Twice we marched back to meet

the enemy, and remained out till dark. The sign

of fear was not seen in our camp, and had not

some of the cowardly and disaffected

inhabitants spread false alarms through the

country, the Jerseys had never been ravaged.

Once more we are again collected and

collecting; our new army at both ends of the

continent is recruiting fast, and we shall be able

to open the next campaign with sixty thousand

men, well armed and clothed. This is our

situation, and who will may know it. By

perseverance and fortitude we have the

prospect of a glorious issue; by cowardice and

submission, the sad choice of a variety of evils—

a ravaged country—a depopulated city—

habitations without safety, and slavery without

hope—our homes turned into barracks and

bawdy-houses for Hessians, and a future race to

provide for, whose fathers we shall doubt of.

Look on this picture and weep over it! and if

there yet remains one thoughtless wretch who

believes it not, let him suffer it unlamented.

COMMON SENSE.

December 23, 1776.

1. Read the sentence and select, from the choices below, the word closest in meaning to the

word in bold-faced type.

Even the expression is impious; for so unlimited a power can belong only to God.

a. atheisticb. irreverentc. hopelessd. biased

2. Paine stated that the king was comparable to a(n)

a. common laborer.b. common murderer.c. eloquent speaker.d. accomplished leader.

3. Paine thanked God that he had

a. a great tolerance for pain.b. no family about whom to worry.c. an able body and mind.d. no cause for fear.

4. Interpret the following quote and state whether or not you agree. Explain your response.

Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the

harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too

lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value.

5. In what ways, according to Thomas Paine, was a national “panic” beneficial?

American Literature

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

Readings in American Literature Volume I- Chapter 1: Early American and Colonial Period to 1776

No comments:

Post a Comment