EBENEZER COOK

[In 1708 there was published in London a pamphlet containing a poem of twenty-one pages with the title "The Sot-Weed Factor: Or, a Voyage to Maryland. A Satyr. In which is describ'd, The Laws, Government, Courts and Constitutions of the Country; and also the Buildings, Feasts, Frolicks, Entertainments and Drunken Humours of the Inhabitants of that Part of America. In Burlesque Verse. By Eben. Cook, Gent." Nothing is known of Eben. Cook, Gent. In 1730 there was published in Annapolis a political satire entitled "Sotweed Redivivus: or the Planters LookingGlass. In Burlesque Verse. Calculated for the Meridian of Maryland. By E. C. Gent." This is in the same metrical form as "The Sot-Weed Factor," and purports to be by the same author; but from the character and quality of the poem it seems rather more probable that some other person adopted this device for the expression of his views. The latest editor of "The SotWeed Factor" also ascribes to Ebenezer Cook an elegy published in an Annapolis newspaper in 1728. There seems to be no positive evidence, however, that the author was a permanent resident of Maryland, or indeed that he stayed in the colony longer than the hero of his poem is represented as doing. Nevertheless, "The Sot-Weed Factor" has come to be regarded as one of the more curious bits of early Americana, and can hardly be ignored in a collection like the present. If it be considered as an American production, it shows the greater development of broad humor in the South as compared with New England; and its form, evidently influenced by the school of Butler, illustrates the tendency in the South to follow at a little distance the literary fashions prevailing in England.

The selections are taken from the edition by Bernard C. Steiner, published by the Maryland Historical Society in 1900.]

THE FACTOR'S ADVENTURES

[From "The Sot-Weed Factor"]

I thought it proper to provide,
A Lodging for myself and Guide,
So to our Inn we march'd away,
Which at a little distance lay;

Where all things were in such Confusion,
I thought the World at its conclusion:

A Herd of Planters on the ground,

O'er-whelm'd with Punch, dead drunk we found:
Others were fighting and contending,

Some burnt their Cloaths to save the mending.

A few whose Heads by frequent use,

Could better bare the potent Juice,
Gravely debated State Affairs.

Whilst I most nimbly trip'd up Stairs;
Leaving my Friend discoursing oddly,
And mixing things Prophane and Godly:
Just then beginning to be Drunk,
As from the Company I slunk,
To every Room and Nook I crept,
In hopes I might have somewhere slept;
But all the bedding was possest
By one or other drunken Guest:
But after looking long about,
I found an antient Corn-loft out,
Glad that I might in quiet sleep,
And there my bones unfractur'd keep.
I lay'd me down secure from Fray,
And soundly snoar'd till break of Day;
When waking fresh I sat upright,
And found my Shoes were vanish'd quite;
Hat, Wig, and Stockings, all were fled
From this extended Indian Bed:
Vext at the Loss of Goods and Chattel,
I swore I'd give the Rascal battel,
Who had abus'd me in this sort,
And Merchant Stranger made his Sport.
I furiously descended Ladder;

No Hare in March was ever madder:
In vain I search'd for my Apparel,
And did with Oast and Servants Quarrel;
For one whose Mind did much aspire

1 'Tis the Custom of the Planters, to throw their own, or any other Person's Hat, Wig, Shooes or Stockings in the Fire.

Equipt with neither Hat nor Shooe,
I did my coming hither rue,

And doubtful thought what I should do:
Then looking round, I saw my Friend
Lie naked on a Tables end;

A Sight so dismal to behold,

One wou'd have judg'd him dead and cold;
When wringing of his bloody Nose,
By fighting got we may suppose;

I found him not so fast asleep,

Might give his Friends a cause to weep:
Rise, 'Oronooko, rise, said I,

And from this Hell and Bedlam fly.
My Guide starts up, and in amaze,
With blood-shot Eyes did round him gaze;
At length with many a sigh and groan,
He went in search of aged Rhoan;
But Rhoan, tho' seldom us'd to faulter,
Had fairly this time slipt his Halter;
And not content all Night to stay,
Ty'd up from Fodder, ran away:
After my Guide to ketch him ran,
And so I lost both Horse and Man;
Which Disappointment, tho' so great,
Did only Mirth and Jests create:
Till one more Civil than the rest,
In Conversation for the best,
Observing that for want of Rhoan,
I should be left to walk alone;
Most readily did me intreat,
To take a Bottle at his Seat;
A Favour at that time so great,
I blest my kind propitious Fate;
And finding soon a fresh supply

Of Cloaths from Stoar-house kept hard by,
I mounted streight on such a Steed,

1 Planters are usually call'd by the Name of Oronooko, from their Planting Oroncoko-Tobacco.

Did rather curb, than whipping need;
And straining at the usual rate,
With spur of Punch which lay in Pate,
E'er long we lighted at the Gate:
Where in an antient Cedar House,
Dwelt my new Friend, a 1 Cockerouse;
Whose Fabrick, tho' 'twas built of Wood,
Had many Springs and Winters stood;
When Sturdy Oaks, and lofty Pines
Were level'd with 2 Musmelion Vines,
And Plants eradicated were,

By Hurricanes into the air;

3

There with good Punch and apple Juice,
We spent our Hours without abuse:
Till Midnight in her sable Vest,
Persuaded Gods and Men to rest;
And with a pleasing kind surprize,
Indulg'd soft Slumbers to my Eyes.
Fierce Ethon courser of the Sun
Had half his Race exactly run;
And breath'd on me a fiery Ray,
Darting hot Beams the following Day,
When snug in Blanket white I lay:
But Heat and Chinces rais'd the Sinner,
Most opportunely to his Dinner;
Wild Fowl and Fish delicious Meats,
As good as Neptune's Doxy eats,
Began our Hospitable Treat;
Fat Venson follow'd in the rear,
And Turkies wild Luxurious Chear:
But what the Feast did most commend,
Was hearty welcom from my Friend.

1 Cockerouse, is a Man of Quality.

• Musmilleon Vines are what we call Muskmilleon Plants.

• Ethon is one of the Poetical Horses of the Sun.

4 Chinces are a sort of vermin like our Bugs in England.

A BARGAIN WITH A QUAKER

[From "The Sot-Weed Factor"]

I then began to think with Care,
How I might sell my British Ware,
That with my Freight I might comply,
Did on my Charter party lie:
To this intent, with Guide before,
I tript it to the Eastern Shoar;
While riding near a Sandy Bay,
I met a Quaker, Yea and Nay;
A Pious Conscientious Rogue,
As e'er woar Bonnet or a Brogue,
Who neither Swore nor kept his Word,
But cheated in the Fear of God;
And when his Debts he would not pay,
By Light within he ran away.
With this sly Zealot soon I struck
A Bargain for my English Truck,
Agreeing for ten thousand weight,
Of Sot-weed good and fit for freight,
Broad Oronooko bright and sound,
The growth and product of his ground;
In Cask that should contain compleat,
Five hundred of Tobacco neat.
The Contract thus betwixt us made,
Not well acquainted with the Trade,
My Goods I trusted to the Cheat,
Whose crop was then aboard the Fleet;
And going to receive my own,
I found the Bird was newly flown:
Cursing this execrable Slave,

This damn'd pretended Godly Knave;
On due Revenge and Justice bent,
I instantly to Counsel went,

1

Unto an ambodexter 1 Quack,

Who learnedly had got the knack

1 This Fellow was an Apothecary, and turn'd an Attorney at Law.