<?xml-model href="https://raw.githubusercontent.com/LiteratureInContext/LiC-data/development/schema/LiC_schema_4.rng" type="application/xml" schematypens="http://relaxng.org/ns/structure/1.0"?>
<TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0" xml:id="winkfield-female-american">
	<teiHeader xml:lang="en">
		<fileDesc>
			<!--BEGINS File Description -->
			<titleStmt>
				<title type="main">The Female American; Or, The Adventures of Unca Eliza Winkfield
					(Vol. I)</title>
				<author>
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="n84027119">
						<name>
							<forename>Unca Eliza</forename>
							<surname>Winkfield</surname>
						</name>
					</persName>
				</author>
				<editor>
					<persName type="orcid" key="0000-0002-5320-9831">
						<forename>Mattie</forename>
						<surname>Burkert</surname>
					</persName>
				</editor>
				<respStmt>
					<resp>TEI encoding, formatting, and annotation integration</resp>
					<name ref="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Students and Faculty at the University of Oregon</name>
					<name>Kathleen Gekiere</name>
					<name>Megan Hayes</name>
					<name>Honor O'Sullivan</name> 
					<name>Michele Pflug</name>
					<name ref="editors.xml#MB">Mattie Burkert</name>
                </respStmt>
				<respStmt>
					<resp>Composition and research of contextual annotations</resp>
					<name>Kaleb Beavers</name>
					<name>Matthew Bicakci</name>
					<name>Megan Brennan</name>
					<name>Dalen Buckley-Noonan</name>
					<name>Elizabeth Burket-Thoene</name>
					<name>Jeffrey Cleasby-Mayeda</name>
					<name>Alexis DePew</name>
					<name>Samara DePew</name>
					<name>Claire Efird</name>
					<name>Jordan Gegus</name>
					<name>Jessie Heine</name>					
					<name>Dariian Holloway</name>
					<name>Emma Kaisner</name>
					<name>Faith Lawrence</name>
					<name>Kimberly Olivar</name>
					<name>Shyanne Night</name>
					<name>Sadie Tresnit</name>
					<name>Taylor Waddington</name>
					<name>Hannah Wald</name>
					<name>Dani Waltman</name>
					<name>Phoebe Young</name>
				</respStmt>
				<respStmt>
					<resp>Definition of archaic and unfamiliar words</resp>
					<name>Annalise San Juan</name>
					<name>Ashia Ajani</name>
					<name>Rachel Peri</name>
				</respStmt>
				<respStmt>
					<resp>Retrieval and annotation of place and person name unique IDs</resp>
					<name>Josiah Basaldua</name>
					<name>Nikki Cain</name>
					<name>Rachel Comb</name>
				</respStmt>
				<respStmt>
					<resp>Page image integration</resp>
					<name ref="editors.xml#MB">Mattie Burkert</name>
				</respStmt>
				<sponsor/>
				<funder>National Endowment for the Humanities</funder>
			</titleStmt>
			<publicationStmt>
				<publisher>Literature in Context</publisher>
				<address>
					<addrLine>University of Oregon Department of English</addrLine>
					<addrLine>1286 University of Oregon</addrLine>
					<addrLine>1415 Kincaid St</addrLine>
					<addrLine>Eugene, OR</addrLine>
					<addrLine>97403-1286</addrLine>
					<addrLine>mburkert@uoregon.edu</addrLine>
					<addrLine>lic.open.anthology@gmail.com</addrLine>
				</address>
				<availability status="free">
					<licence target="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">Published by
						Literature in Context under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0
						Unported License </licence>
				</availability>
			</publicationStmt>

			<sourceDesc>
				<biblStruct>
					<monogr>
						<author>
							<forename>Unca Eliza</forename>
							<surname>Winkfield</surname>
						</author>

						<title>The Female American; or, The Adventures of Unca Eliza Winkfield.
							Compiled by herself. In two volumes. ...</title>
						<imprint>

							<pubPlace>London </pubPlace>
							<publisher>printed for Francis Noble, and John Noble</publisher>
							<date when="1767">1767</date>

							<note source="ESTC">
                                <p>A novel. With nine pages of advertisements at the
								end of volume 2 and an announcement of increased rates for seven
								circulating libraries at the end of volume 1.</p>
                            </note>
							<note>
                                <p>For more information about this item, see the ESTC entry at <ref target="http://estc.bl.uk/T66936">http://estc.bl.uk/T66366</ref>.</p> </note>
							<note>Page images from this 1767 first edition are provided courtesy of
								the <ref target="https://jcblibrary.org/permissions">John Carter
									Brown Library</ref> and were retrieved from the <ref target="https://archive.org/details/femaleamericanor01wink">Internet Archive</ref>.</note>
						</imprint>

						<imprint>
							<pubPlace>
								<placeName>IDHMC, 4227 TAMU, College Station, TX
									77843-4227</placeName>
							</pubPlace>
							<publisher>18thConnect</publisher>
							<date when="2010">2010</date>
							<note>These documents are available only to 18thConnect under the terms
								and conditions specified in the contract with Gale Cengage Learning
								dated June 22-23, 2010. For more information, contact Laura Mandell
								at mandell@tamu.edu</note>
							<note>198 300dpi TIFF page images</note>
							<note>ESTC number T066366, BookID number 0028400401</note>
							<note> 18thConnect (<ref target="http://www.18thConnect.org">http://www.18thConnect.org</ref>) is a scholarly community and
								online finding aid designed to make searchable all primary texts and
								peer-reviewed resources in the field of eighteenth-century studies.
								It is supported by the University of Virginia, NINES.org, the
								Initiative for Digital Humanities, Media, and Culture (IDHMC) at
								Texas A&amp;M University (<ref target="http://idhmc.tamu.edu">http://idhmc.tamu.edu</ref>), and by the Advanced Research
								Constortium (ARC) (<ref target="http://ar-c.org">http://ar-c.org</ref>). These documents have been generated
								from 18thConnect's TypeWright tool and are based on the OCR output
								created by Gale/Cengage Learning for the Eighteenth Century
								Collections Online (ECCO) proprietary database product. The XSLT
								that converts the documents from Gale's OCR output XML format to
								TEI-A was written by Matthew Christy at the IDHMC, Texas A&amp;M
								University. The code is open source. </note>
							<note> Text for this digital edition is drawn from the copy of the first
								1767 edition held in the British Library, as reproduced in
								Eighteenth-Century Collections Online. Machine-recognized text was
								hand-corrected using 18thConnect's TypeWright tool.</note>
						</imprint>

						<imprint>

							<pubPlace>
								<placeName type="tgn" key="7013091">Peterborough, ON</placeName>
							</pubPlace>
							<publisher>Broadview Press</publisher>
							<date when="2014">2014</date>
							<note>Second edition, edited by Michelle Burnham and James
								Freitas.</note>
							<note>Text corrected as described above was checked against the
								Broadview edition.</note>
						</imprint>



						<extent>2v.; 12°</extent>
						<biblScope unit="volume">I</biblScope>
					</monogr>
				</biblStruct>
			</sourceDesc>
		</fileDesc>
		<profileDesc>
			<langUsage>
				<language ident="en">English</language>
				<!-- <language ident="grk">Greek</language> CURRENT SCHEMA DOES NOT ALLOW FOR MORE THAN ONE LANGUAGE -->
			</langUsage>


			<creation/>

			<textDesc n="novel">
				<channel mode="w">print</channel>
				<constitution type="single"/>
				<derivation type="original"/>
				<domain/>
				<factuality type="fiction"/>
				<interaction/>
				<preparedness/>
				<purpose type="entertain" degree="high"/>
				<purpose type="inform" degree="low"/>
			</textDesc>

			<settingDesc>
				<setting>
					<name type="tgn" key="7002445">England</name>
					<name type="tgn" key="7007919">Virginia</name>
					<name type="tgn" key="7014206">Atlantic Ocean</name>
					<name type="tgn" key="8729366">Caribbean</name>
					<name type="tgn" key="7004550">West Indies</name>
					<time from="1607" to="1640">Early 17th Century</time>
				</setting>
			</settingDesc>

		</profileDesc>

		<encodingDesc>
			<projectDesc>
				<p>This text is prepared as part of the <hi rend="italic">Literature in Context</hi>
					project, which provides an accessible, curated, and marked-up selection of
					primary sources relevant to the study and the teaching of British and American
					literature of the 18th century. This project is funded by the National Endowment
					for the Humanities and developed by faculty at The University of Virginia and
					Marymount University.</p>
			</projectDesc>
			<editorialDecl>
				<interpretation>
					<p>Research informing these annotations draws on publicly-accessible resources,
						with links provided where possible. Annotations have also included common
						knowledge, defined as information that can be found in multiple reliable
						sources. If you notice an error in these annotations, please contact
						lic.open.anthology@gmail.com.
						<lb/>
						<lb/>As editors, we occupy different positions with respect to the ongoing
						processes of colonialism and settler colonialism in which <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi> participates. Dr. Zoe Todd (Métis nation) <ref target="https://twitter.com/ZoeSTodd/status/1356663798535360512">writes</ref> that non-Indigenous folks tend to appreciate Indigenous
						scholarship but “balk at addressing specific Indigenous societies whose
						homeland they occupy.” While land acknowledgements will not rectify the
						historical or contemporary violence affecting Indigenous communities, this
						statement attempts to acknowledge some of the specific Indigenous societies
						and homelands with which we and this edition are entangled.<lb/>
                        <lb/>We, the editors, identify individually as both uninvited settlers on
						Indigenous land and as Black and Indigenous kin–that is, people related to
						or in relation with Indigenous communities. As Indigenous and Black kin, we
						acknowledge our feelings of conflict in publishing a text that reproduces
						harmful representations of Indigeneity, minimizes the presence of Indigenous
						people, and potentially furthers a reading of colonialism that undermines
						the violence of its reality against Black and Indigenous bodies. As
						settlers, we recognize that ideas of Indigeneity represented in The Female
						American reproduce stereotypes, inaccuracies, and literary violence. We
						acknowledge that the <ref target="https://map.uoregon.edu/indigenous">land
							we currently occupy</ref> is the <ref target="https://ethnicstudies.uoregon.edu/people/honoring-native-peoples-and-lands">homeland of the Kalapuya people</ref>, and that we are individually
						indebted to <ref target="https://native-land.ca/">myriad other Indigenous
							lands and peoples</ref>. We recognize that we produced this edition
						using resources and knowledges available to us through our affiliation with
						the University of Oregon, an institution <ref target="https://web.archive.org/web/20220309230737/https://www.oregonlive.com/news/2020/06/university-of-oregon-ignored-calls-for-removal-of-racist-statue-student-group-says.html">complicit</ref> in the ongoing settler-colonial project. We acknowledge
						our responsibility to support equity movements like <ref target="https://www.seedingjustice.org/the-chuush-fund-water-for-warm-springs/">Water for Warm Springs</ref> until this land is <ref target="https://landback.org/manifesto/">returned to its rightful
								inhabitants</ref>.<lb/>
                        <lb/>
                        <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi> begins with the history of the
						seventeenth-century English arrival in Tsenacomoco, the homeland of the
						Powhatan Chiefdom. This settlement, which was called Jamestown, is today a
						cultural heritage site in the greater Williamsburg, Virginia area. Many
						Indigenous peoples hold ancestral and present-day relationships to this
						land, including the Cheroenhaka (Nottoway), Chickahominy, Eastern
						Chickahominy, Mattaponi, Monacan, Nansemond, Nottoway, Pamunkey, Patawomeck,
						Upper Mattaponi, and Rappahannock. Indeed, this edition is hosted at the
						University of Virginia, using servers sited on and powered by plants
						operated on Monacan lands. At the time of this writing, the Monacan Indian
						Nation is fighting to save their historical capital Rassawek from further
						incursion from the state of Virginia, which plans to build a water pumping
						station over it. Readers can learn more about the effort to <ref target="http://www.culturalheritagepartners.com/saverassawek/">Save
							Rassawek</ref> and to join in the effort to stop it at the <ref target="https://www.monacannation.com/">Monacan Nation</ref> website.<lb/>
                        <lb/>We recognize the technological infrastructure that has allowed us to create
						this digital edition, including the extraction of rare earth minerals and
						human labor to produce electronic devices and the use of fossil fuels to
						power those devices. We encourage readers to account for the material
						conditions of their access to this edition as a site of entanglement with
						and indebtedness to Indigenous communities whose stewardship of the land
						stretches back to times immemorial and persists to this day.</p>
					
				</interpretation>
				<normalization>
					<p>Original spelling and capitalization is retained, though the long s has been
						silently modernized and ligatured forms are not encoded. Additional
						redundant quotation marks have been removed, and quotation marks modernized
						for ease of reading.</p>
				</normalization>

				<hyphenation>
					<p>Hyphenation has not been retained, except where necessary for the sense of
						the word.</p>
				</hyphenation>

				<segmentation>
					<p>Page breaks have been retained. Catchwords, signatures, and running headers
						have not. Where pages break in the middle of a word, the complete word has
						been indicated at the top of the new page.</p>
				</segmentation>
				<correction>
					<p>Materials have been transcribed from and checked against first editions,
						where possible. See the Sources section.</p>
				</correction>


			</editorialDecl>

			<tagsDecl>
				<namespace name="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0">
					<tagUsage gi="div">Unnumbered divs used.</tagUsage>
				</namespace>
			</tagsDecl>
			<classDecl>
				<taxonomy xml:id="lcnaf">
					<bibl>Library of Congress Name Authority File</bibl>
				</taxonomy>
				<taxonomy xml:id="lcc">
					<bibl>Library of Congress Classification</bibl>
				</taxonomy>
				<taxonomy xml:id="tgn">
					<bibl>Getty Thesaurus of Geographic Names</bibl>
				</taxonomy>
				<taxonomy xml:id="orcid">
					<bibl>Open Researcher and Contributor ID</bibl>
				</taxonomy>
			</classDecl>
		</encodingDesc>

	</teiHeader>

	<text>
		<front>
			<titlePage>
				<pb n="[TP]" facs="pageImages/TP.png"/>
				<!--removed pb n="00010"-->
				<docTitle>
					<titlePart>THE Female American;<lb/>
						<!--This title is in two parts--> OR, THE ADVENTURES <lb/>OF UNCA ELIZA
						WINKFIELD,<lb/>COMPILED BY HERSELF.<lb/>IN TWO VOLUMES.<lb/>VOL.
						I.<lb/>
                    </titlePart>
				</docTitle>
				<docAuthor/>
				<docImprint>
					<pubPlace>
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7011781">LONDON:</placeName>
                        <lb/>
					</pubPlace>
					<publisher>Printed for <persName type="lcnaf" key="nr93028454">FRANCIS
							NOBLE</persName>, at his Circulating <lb/>Library, opposite
							<placeName>Gray's-Inn Gate</placeName>, <placeName type="tgn" key="1004682">Holbourn</placeName>; <lb/>AND <persName type="lcnaf" key="nb2008022977">JOHN NOBLE</persName>, at his Circulating Library, in <lb/>
						<placeName>St. Martin's-Court</placeName>, near
							<placeName>Leicester-Square</placeName>.</publisher>
					<lb/>
				</docImprint>
				<docDate>MDCCLXVII.</docDate>


			</titlePage>
			<div type="media">
				<p> [<ref target="https://librivox.org/the-female-american-by-unca-eliza-winkfield/">Audiobook via Librivox</ref>] </p>
			</div>
			<div type="advertisement">
				<pb n="i" facs="pageImages/i.png"/>
				<!--replaced pb n="00020"-->
				<head>ADVERTISEMENT.</head>
				<floatingText>
					<body>
						<!--Head element used for headings at all levels, such as chapter titles-->
						<p>THE following extraordinary History will prove either acceptable or not
							to the reader; in either case, it ought to be a matter of indifference
							to him from what quarter, or by what means, he receives it. </p>
						<p>But if curiosity demands a satisfaction of this kind, all that he can
							receive is only this, that I found it among the papers of my late
							father. </p>
						<p>Upon a perusal of it, I found it both pleasing and instructive, <pb n="ii" facs="pageImages/ii.png"/>
							<!--replaced pb n="00030"--> not unworthy of the most sensible reader;
							highly fit to be perused by the youth of both sexes, as a rational,
							moral entertainment; and, as such, I doubt not, but that it will descend
							to late posterity, when, most of its cotemporaries, founded only in
							fiction, will have been long forgotten. </p>
						<closer>
                            <signed>The EDITOR. </signed>
                        </closer>
					</body>
				</floatingText>
			</div>

		</front>

		<body>
			<div type="chapter" n="1">
				<!--everything must be in a div, even pb-->

				<pb n="1" facs="pageImages/001.png"/>
				<!--replaced pb n="00040"-->
				<head type="main">THE<lb/>Female American; <lb/>OR THE <lb/> ADVENTURES <lb/>OF UNCA
					ELIZA WINKFIELD.</head>
				<!--Only time this title repeats-->
				<head type="sub">CHAP. I.</head>
				<!--Head Type Main for chapter titles-->
				<head type="desc"><!--Head type desc (descriptive) for the italicized summaries-->
					<hi rend="italic">Motives for writing this history; discovery of <placeName type="tgn" key="7007919">Virginia</placeName>; the author's grandfather
						settles there; he is killed by the natives; his son is taken prisoner, but
						is saved by one of the king's daughters.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">T</hi>HE following history of my life I never completely
					related but to one person; and at that time had no intention of committing it to
					writing: but finding the remembrance of <pb n="2" facs="pageImages/002.png"/><!--Consolidating paragraphs with page breaks within paragraph instead of separate line as shown in Literature in Context Template-->it
					burdensome to my memory, I thought I might, in some degree, exonerate myself, by
					digesting the most material events in the form of an history; for which purpose
					I collected together such loose memorandums as I had occasionally made, which
					have enabled me to render the following relation more regular and complete than
					otherwise it could have been, had I been obliged to trust only to the power of
					recollection: how, and why, I afterwards came otherwise to dispose of it will
					appear in due time. <ref target="women_" corresp="women">The lives of women being 
					commonly domestic, the occurrences of them are generally pretty nearly of the 
					same kind</ref>
                    <note xml:id="women" target="women_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">This introduction into the novel claims to make
					space for women within parts of life - and within literary genres - where many 
					thought that only men could go. Mary Helen McMurran calls <hi rend="italic">
					The Female American</hi> "an irresistible antidote to the two pillars of the 
					eighteenth-century development of the realist novel: masculine individualism 
					and female domesticity" (<ref target="https://www.jstor.org/stable/41468151">
					"Realism and the Unreal in <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>"</ref>, 324).</note>
					; whilst those of men, frequently more vagrant, subject them often to 
					experience greater vicissitudes, many times wonderful and strange. Though a woman, 
					it has been my <pb n="3" facs="pageImages/003.png"/> lot to have experienced 
					much of the latter; for 
					so wonderful, strange, and uncommon have been the events of my life, that true
					history, perhaps, never recorded any that were more so. However, I shall not
					endeavour to extort the reader's credence of them, if such my work should ever
					have any, by solemn professions of veracity; for, perhaps, they may never be
					read; but if they should, I think the greatest sceptic will allow, uncommon as
					they are, that they do not exceed the bounds of probability. Here are two ends
					they cannot fail of answering, rational entertainment, and mental improvement.
					To proceed then: </p>
				<p>The peaceful reign of <persName type="lcnaf" key="n80035841">king James I of
						England</persName> gave opportunity to the first attempt of the English to
					make a settlement<pb n="4 [page breaks after 'settle-']" facs="pageImages/004.png"/>
					 in the <placeName type="tgn" key="4001894">Indies</placeName>, at a
					place called, originally, <ref target="Wingandacoa_" corresp="Wingandacoa">Wingandacoa</ref>
					<note xml:id="Wingandacoa" target="Wingandacoa_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<graphic url="notes/wingandacoa.jpeg"/>According to the <ref target="https://digital.lib.ecu.edu/roanokecolonies/view/Wingandacoa">Joyner Library at East Carolina University</ref>, "Wingandacoa" is
						another name for the mainland of Virginia.</note>, part of the continent
					adjoining to <placeName type="tgn" key="7007240">Florida</placeName>, called
					afterwards <placeName type="tgn" key="7007919">Virginia</placeName>, in honour
					of our maiden <persName type="lcnaf" key="n79081709">queen Elizabeth</persName>,
					of blessed memory. As this place was first discovered by the great <persName type="lcnaf" key="n79060999">Sir Walter Raleigh</persName>, he obtained
					letters patent to settle a plantation there, <hi rend="italic">Anno Dom.</hi>
					<date when="1584">1584</date>. But it was some years after that time before any
					colony was sent there. The first <placeName type="tgn" key="7015896">plantation</placeName> that proved successful, was began in <date when="1607">1607</date>: at this time a colony arrived there of about an
					hundred persons, among the conductors of whom was <persName type="lcnaf" key="n93124661">Mr. Edward Maria Winkfield</persName>, my grandfather; but
					as many of these died, a further supply was sent the year after, under the care
					of captain Nilson and again more in <date when="1610">1610</date>, <date when="1611">1611</date>, <date when="1612">1612</date>. </p>

				<pb n="5" facs="pageImages/005.png"/>
				<p>In <date when="1618">1618</date>, the settlement was thought of consequence
					enough to receive a governor from <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>. A very large colony arrived there two years after; and
					now the newcomers formed themselves into corporations. The first, and principal
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7015896">town</placeName>, was honoured with the
					name of <persName type="lcnaf" key="n80035841">king James</persName>. But the
					happy prospect, with which the newcomers flattered themselves, was unhappily
					obscured by the native Indians, who came unexpectedly upon them, and massacred
					three hundred of them; but this loss was soon repaired by a fresh recruit from
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>.---Thus much for the
					first peopling my native country. </p>
				<p>The <placeName type="tgn" key="7015896">plantation</placeName> which my
					grandfather first began, and which was the largest and most successful, devolved
					in a flourishing<pb n="6 [page breaks after 'flou-']" facs="pageImages/006.png"/>
					 state to my father, Mr. William Winkfield, of whom I must relate a
					very extraordinary adventure, as it gave occasion to his growing more suddenly
					rich than he could have done by an infant plantation, and gave birth to me; and
					in the consequences of it effected a more happy issue to my future adventures
					than could otherwise have happened. </p>
				<p>At the time of the massacre, mentioned above, my grandfather was killed, and my
					father, with a few more, was taken prisoners by the Indians; and as it was a
					very dark night, was hurried along many miles before he could perfectly discover
					any objects: at length the rising sun discovered to his view, at some distance,
					a large river with a great number<pb n="7 [page breaks after 'num-']" facs="pageImages/007.png"/>number of boats on it; into one of these he was
					forced, and then bound hand and foot. In a little time all the boats were in
					motion, and for some hours continued to go with great rapidity. My father had
					now but too much time to reflect on his unpromising situation, and recalling to
					his mind the words of his elder brother, whom he had left in <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, he thought them unhappily
					predictive. </p>
				<p>He was a clergyman, and one of true piety and sound erudition. When his brother,
					my father, was about to quit <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, with their father, to settle in this new discovered
					country, "My dear brother Bill," said
					he,<!--Mich: I deleted quotes per line, but I did add open and close quotes back in here to make it more readable (i.e. 'said he' I left without quotes.-->
					"I know too well my duty to my father to remonstrate against any action of his,
						<pb n="8" facs="pageImages/008.png"/>though in secret I may dread the
					consequence; but as I am your brother, and your elder, I may presume to give my
					opinion; may it not be prophetic! We have no right to invade the country of
					another, and I fear invaders will always meet a curse; but as your youth
					disenables you from viewing this expedition in that equitable light that it
					ought to be looked on, may your sufferings be proportionably light! for our God
					is just, and will weigh our actions in a just scale." </p>
				<p>My father at this time was about twenty years old, of a remarkable fair
					complexion for a man, with brown hair, black eyes, and was well shaped. I <pb n="9" facs="pageImages/009.png"/>should not give a description of his
					person, but that to it he owed, as it seems, his future preservation. The
					Indians continued their voyage above four or five hours, when they stopped on
					the same side of the shore on which they had embarked. As soon as they were
					landed, my father, with five other English captives, tied one to another, were
					drove, like sheep, many miles up the country, and then lodged in a cabin till
					next day; however, in the interim, they were plentifully supplied with dried
					Indian corn, dried goats flesh, and a kind of small wine, but thick, though well
					flavoured. They had heard that some of the Indians were <ref target="cannibals_" corresp="cannibals">men-eaters</ref>
					<note xml:id="cannibals" target="cannibals_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">cannibals</note>, and thought these were
					such, or that they would not have fed them so plentifully but to render <pb n="10" facs="pageImages/010.png"/> them, as we do hogs, the better food:
						<ref target="mistaken_" corresp="mistaken">however, in this they were
						mistaken</ref>
					<note xml:id="mistaken" target="mistaken_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Winkfield’s father and companions are
						referred to twice in this passage as livestock (sheep, then hogs). Winkfield
						alludes to, then quickly dismisses, the possibility that the Indians are
						cannibals. The early rejection of a 'savage cannibal' trope in <hi rend="italic">The Female
						American</hi> fundamentally changes Winkfield’s experience living on the island
						compared to Robinson Crusoe and the portrayal of the 'Indians' she
						encounters.</note>. </p>
				<p>The next day, soon after sun-rising, my father and his five unhappy companions
					were brought out of their cabin; their <ref target="cloaths_" corresp="cloaths">cloaths</ref>
					<note xml:id="cloaths" target="cloaths_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">clothes</note> were taken off, and they
					placed in a circle formed by a great number of Indians of both sexes, all naked,
					except a small covering of foliage about their middle, which decently covered
					the distinction of sexes. This local covering of several of the females was
					composed of beautiful flowers. The unhappy captives flood amidst this assembly a
					considerable time, whilst a venerable old man seemed to address them in a
					pathetic manner, for tears accompanied his words. He was, as my father
					afterwards learned, their king, <pb n="11" facs="pageImages/011.png"/> and of a
					very numerous people; and the purport of his long speech was this: </p>
				<p>"<ref target="first_" corresp="first">Men, for I see you have legs, arms, and heads 
				as we have, look to the sun</ref>
                    <note xml:id="first" target="first_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
				The Indigenous king is the first character in the book to speak, giving him a voice not 
				just literally, but metaphorically. Adding further weight to his words is the power he 
				wields to order execution, as he threatens to do. Winkfield's choice to make this the 
				first line of spoken dialogue in the book lends the king power and respect, and it may 
				appear to foreshadow the centering of Indigenous voices as the story unfolds. At the 
				same time, there is an element of <ref target="https://www.oed.com/dictionary/ableism_n?tab=meaning_and_use#12906150">ableism</ref>, 
				as the king makes worship contingent on having limbs.</note>,"<!--quote adjustment--> 
				here he pointed up to that luminary, "<ref target="sun_" corresp="sun">he is our god, is he yours?</ref>
					<note xml:id="sun" target="sun_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Ancient Israel was surrounded by peoples who worshiped solar deities.
						Abrahamic religions thus condemn solar cults and other forms of animism,
						viewing nature-worship as a form of idolatry. (See <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=deuteronomy+4.19&amp;version=KJV">Deuteronomy 4.19, 17.3</ref>). The narrator equates the Indigenous
						people’s religious practices with the enemies of ancient Israel, a
						connection that is explicit in Chapter XI when she compares island natives
						to the prophets of Baal.<lb/>Biblical passages quoted by the narrator do not
						perfectly match the wording of any English translation. Here and throughout,
						we have chosen to link to the King James Version, which was the official
						Anglican Bible in the eighteenth century.</note> He made us, he warms us, he
					lights us, <ref target="creation_" corresp="creation">he makes our corn and
						grass to grow</ref>. <note xml:id="creation" target="creation_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Allusion to <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=psalm+104%3A14&amp;version=KJV">Psalm 104.14</ref>, probably to further underscore that they mistakenly
						worship the creation instead of the creator.</note>, we love and praise him;
					did he make you? Did he send you to punish us? if he did, we will die, here are
					our bows and arrows, kill us." Saying this, they all threw their bows and arrows
					within the circle, between themselves and the captives. Not then knowing their
					meaning, they stood silent; the king then continued his speech, "Our god is not
						<pb n="12" facs="pageImages/012.png"/> angry; the evil being who made you
					has sent you into our land to kill us; we know you not, and have never offended
					you; why then have you taken possesion of our lands, ate our fruits, and made
					our countrymen prisoners? Had you no lands of your own? Why did you not ask? we
					would have given you some. Speak." It seems they had no idea that there are more
					languages than one; therefore taking their silence for a confession of guilt,
					their king proceeded, "You designed to kill us, but we hurt no man who has not
					first offended us; our god has given you into our hands, and you must die." </p>
				<p>This said, the Indians took up their bows and, arrows, whilst others bound <pb n="13" facs="pageImages/013.png"/> my father and his five unhappy
					countrymen, and cut off the heads of the latter, one after another. My father
					expected the same fate; but just as the executioner was about to give the
					stroke, a maiden, who stood by the king, and whose neck, breast, and arms, were
					curiously adorned with jewels, diamonds, and solid pieces of gold and silver,
					and who was one of the king's daughters, stroked my father with a wand. This was
					the signal for deliverance; he was immediately unbound, and a covering, like
					that the Indians wore, was put round his body, and a kind of chain, formed of
					long grass, round his neck, of a considerable length, one end of which the
					princess took hold of, and gently led him along, till she came to a bower
					composed of the most pleasing greens, <pb n="14" facs="pageImages/014.png"/>
					delightfully <ref target="variegated_" corresp="variegated">variegated</ref>
					<note xml:id="variegated" target="variegated_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">consisting of many different types of things,
						markings or persons</note> with the most beautiful flowers; a shady defense
					from the sun, which then shone with uncommon heat. Beneath, was a large
					collection of leaves, which covered the whole surface of the ground to a great
					depth; here she made him sit, none present but themselves. She seated herself by
					him, viewed him with great attention from head to foot, felt his face and hands,
					but with the greatest modesty. She then arose, and going out returned presently
					with a <ref target="coconut_" corresp="coconut">cocoa nut</ref>
					<note xml:id="coconut" target="coconut_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">coconut</note> shell, and drinking first,
					presented him the remainder of a liquor of most delicious taste, of the <ref target="vinous_" corresp="vinous">vinous</ref>
					<note xml:id="vinous" target="vinous_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">derivate of wine</note> kind; at the same
					time <ref target="fruits_" corresp="fruits">offering him a basket of 
					various fruits</ref>
                    <note xml:id="fruits" target="fruits_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Ahuja, author of 
					the article "<ref target="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/290976239_Coconut_-_History_uses_and_folklore">Coconut - History, Uses, and Folklore</ref>," 
					describes the best environment that coconuts thrive in, which includes 
					"free-draining aerated soil often found on sandy beaches, a supply of fresh 
					groundwater, humid atmosphere, and temperatures between 27°C and 30°C" (221). 
					Given that the characters are in Virginia, a climate unsupportive of growing 
					such fruits, Indigenous people would be unlikely to have access to the coconut 
					during this time period. The action is also set during the first attempt of 
					the English to make a settlement in the area. Later, tropical plant species 
					like the coconut palm would become an important part of the colonial fruit 
					hierarchy. To have tropical fruits imported from Caribbean islands to 
					colonies like Virginia was considered a luxury and a way to show off wealth 
					and status.</note>. My father freely accepted of both,
					and found himself surprizingly refreshed. She then made a sign to him to lie 
					<pb n="15" facs="pageImages/015.png"/> down, and with looks of ineffable
					tenderness, retired; having first laid her bow and quiver filled with arrows by
					him, and fastened the door of the bower with a twig. </p>
				<p>This tender and extraordinary treatment had so far composed my father's mind,
					that, joined with the excessive heat of the day, and the wine together, he was
					so much overcome, that he insensibly fell asleep, amidst his reflections on this
					strange adventure. When he awoke, he found two Indian slaves fanning and
					defending him from the flies; which in that country are very hurtful. No sooner
					did they perceive he was awake, but one of his attendants withdrew, and
					presently returned, I cannot say with his fair, but with his black deliverer,
					who, smiling, gently pulled him by his chain, and led him, now willing and
					fearless, to a neighbouring<pb n="16 [page breaks after 'neigh-']" facs="pageImages/016.png"/>  cabin, greatly distinguished from those about it, both by its
					largeness and elegance. </p>
				<p>Here he again saw the king, before whom he bowed; whilst his patroness presented
					the end of the chain she held to her father, who with much seeming affability
					returned it to his daughter. By this act my father understood he gave him as a
					captive to his daughter, who, immediately breaking the chain from around his
					neck, threw it at his feet, making a motion to him that he should set his foot
					upon it, which he having done, she clapt her hands, and cried out, <ref target="language_" corresp="language">
						<hi rend="italic">Hala pana chi nu,</hi>
					</ref>
					<note xml:id="language" target="language_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Despite Unca Eliza’s many references to her
						ability to comprehend and speak a multitude of languages of American
						natives, this is the only instance in Vol. 1 where the author provides a
						written version of a “native phrase”. However, this is most likely a
						fabrication. In <ref target="https://www.jstor.org/stable/41468151">"Realism
							and the Unreal in The Female American"</ref> (2011), McMurran points to
						the presence of "chi" and "nu", the written pronunciation of Greek letters,
						as evidence for this.</note> "great peace be to you." </p>
				<p>Though my father did not then understand her words, he could not but <pb n="17" facs="pageImages/017.png"/>conceive her actions as declarative of his
					liberty; for actions are a kind of universal language: he therefore threw
					himself at her feet, when she in return offered him her hand to rise, and then
					led him into another cabin, completely furnished after the Indian manner. Here
					he found the two Indian slaves who had attended him in the bower: these the
					princess presented to him, and whom by the homage they paid him, he understood
					he was to consider as his slaves. His cloaths which had been taken from him,
					together with those of his less happy companions, were brought to him. </p>
				<p>The princess continued some hours with him, and they participated of a collation
					of fruits, whilst the princess continually talked to him, as if he had <pb n="18" facs="pageImages/018.png"/>understood her language. This agreeable
					society continued several weeks, she visiting him every day, <ref target="shewing_" corresp="shewing">shewing</ref>
					<note xml:id="shewing" target="shewing_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">showing</note> him the neighbouring
					fountains, woods, and walks, and every thing that could amuse. At last my father
					began to understand her language, which redoubled all her past pleasures, when,
					according to <ref target="primitivism_" corresp="primitivism">the simplicity 
					of the uncorrupted Indians</ref>
                    <note xml:id="primitivism" target="primitivism_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">This sentence reflects the 
					concept of primitivism: “A preference for the supposedly free and contented 
					existence found in a ‘primitive’ way of life as opposed to the artificialities 
					of urban civilization” (<ref target="https://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/acref/9780198715443.001.0001/acref-9780198715443-e-916">
					Oxford Reference</ref>). Primitivism celebrated the perceived simplicity and 
					purity of Indigenous cultures while upholding colonists' belief that their 
					culture was much more advanced than others. Seeing Indigenous people as primitive 
					also agreed with the religious movement of the Puritans, who believed they could 
					reverse the corruption of the English church by Catholic influences: “Sermons 
					emphasize renewal, regeneration, and the recovery of a lost, primitive, edenic purity” (
					<ref target="https://doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199998142.001.0001">
					Hutchins, <hi rend="italic">Inventing Eden</hi>
                        </ref>, 180).</note>, she declared that love
					for him, which he had long before understood by her actions. </p>
				<p>Though a complexion so different, as that of the princess from an European,
					cannot but at first disgust, yet by degrees my father grew insensible to the
					difference, and in other respects her person was not inferior to that of the
					greatest European beauty; but what <pb n="19" facs="pageImages/019.png"/>was
					more, her understanding was uncommonly great, pleasantly lively, and wonderfully
					comprehensive, even of subjects unknown to her, till informed of them by my
					father, who took extraordinary pains to instruct her; for now he loved in his
					turn: and sure he must have had a heart strangely insensible if such great
					kindness, joined with such perfections, had not had that effect. </p>
				<p>They had now lived together six months, and understood each other tolerably, when
					Unca, for that was the princess's name, proposed their marriage. As she was a
					Pagan, though my father sincerely loved her, and wished for that union, he could
					not help shewing some uneasiness at the proposal<pb n="20 [page breaks after 'pro-']" facs="pageImages/020.png"/>. This the observant princess instantly
					saw. "What," cried she, "does not my Winka," so she called him, "love me?" My
					father caught her in his arms; "Yes, my dear Unca, cried he, I do, but <ref target="pagan_" corresp="pagan">my God will be angry if I marry you, unless
						you will worship him as I do</ref>
					<note xml:id="pagan" target="pagan_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff"> Framed by the narrator calling her mother a
						“pagan,” this may be an allusion to <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2+corinthians+6%3A14&amp;version=KJV">2 Corinthians 6.14</ref> where first-century Christians are advised to
						marry other Christians instead of Greek pagans.</note>." This gave birth to
					a long conversation, in which, though my father was a very sensible man, and had
					enjoyed a good education, being very young, he found it not a little difficult
					to teach another what he yet firmly believed himself; but as we readily believe
					those whom we love, he was more successful than he expected, and in a little
					time the princess became convinced of her errors, and her good understanding
					helped to forward her conversion. </p>

				<pb n="21" facs="pageImages/021.png"/>
				<p>Thus love and religion agreeably divided their time; and so happy was my father
					with his princess, that he almost forgot his former situation, and begun to look
					upon the country he was in as his own, nor indeed did he ever expect to see any
					other again; and he now loved Unca as much as she did him, and was therefore
					willing to make her and her country his for ever; but an unexpected event soon
					gave a different turn to their affirs. </p>
			</div>

			<div type="chapter" n="2">

				<pb n="22" facs="pageImages/022.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. II. </head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">The king's eldest daughter conceives a passion for him, which
						produces disagreeable consequences, from which he is delivered by Unca.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">M</hi>Y father had never seen any other of the king's
					daughters since the day of his deliverance from death, but his dear Unca, till
					one day sitting in a wood to shelter himself from the excessive heat of the sun,
					the king's eldest daughter approached him. As soon as my father saw her,
					supposing she was one of the king's daughters, he arose to salute her with the
					profoundest respect. "Winca," said she, "I have long sought for such <pb n="23" facs="pageImages/023.png"/> an opportunity as this; let us therefore retire
					further into this wood, that we may converse with more freedom." My father,
					unsuspecting the occasion of this visit, obeyed, when the princess thus began:
					"Winca, it is our custom to be silent, or to speak what we think; we are of
					opinion that nature has given us the same right to declare our love as it has to
					your sex; know, Winca, then, that I have seen you, and that the oftener I have
					seen you the more I love you; I know my sister loves you, but I am my father's
					eldest daughter, and as he has no son, whoever marries me will be king after his
					death." </p>
				<p>My father was so much surprized at this unexpected declaration, that he was not
					able immediately to reply; but as <pb n="24" facs="pageImages/024.png"/> soon as
					he was a little recovered, he endeavoured to excuse himself as well as he could,
					by pleading his love and prior engagement to her sister; but it was in vain: all
					he could say tended but to provoke her anger. At last, in a rage, not to be
					described, she cried, "If you will not love me, you shall die; my sister shall
					never enjoy an happiness that I aspire to; nor shall my vengeance be long
					delayed; this instant shall put a period to your life." However menacing these
					words were, my father was not greatly alarmed, as they were uttered by an
					unarmed woman, and which he conceived to be only the effect of passion, and
					unluckily smiled. "What! cried she, do you scorn my love, deride my power? know
					wretch, Alluca can despise love and death at her will." </p>

				<pb n="25" facs="pageImages/025.png"/>
				<p>Saying this, she clapt her hands together, and immediately six male Indians
					appeared from behind the trees, where they had stood at some distance
					unperceived by him. "Seize that white infidel," cried she; and in an instant all
					power of defence or flight was equally taken from him. She then took a
					pomegranate-shell out of a kind of pocket that she wore by her side, and going
					up to a poisonous herb, squeezed the juice of it into it; then advancing to my
					father, "Here," said she, "be mine, or drink this; I offer you love and death;
					make your choice." "I can love none but Unca," replied he. </p>
				<p>She then ordered four of the slaves to hold my father whilst the two others were
					about to force the poisonous <pb n="26" facs="pageImages/026.png"/> draught into
					his mouth. "Hold," cried my father, "if I must die, I will drink it myself, I
					cannot do too much for Unca; she gave me life, and for her sake I will lose
					it--I drink Unca's health; her love shall make it sweet," He drank it, and I
					suppose the ministers of his intended death soon left him; for not long after he
					awoke, as it were from sleep, and found himself in the arms of his dear Unca,
					when in a languid tone he uttered, "What! do I meet my dear Unca so soon in
					another world? this was worth dying for." He then sunk again, as into a sleep. </p>
				<p>It seems the princess Unca, having missed my father, arrived just after her
					sister and the slaves had retired, and saw him sink upon the ground. As she <pb n="27" facs="pageImages/027.png"/> was no stranger to her sister's love for
					my father, her quick apprehension soon suggested what had happened; and as <ref target="science_" corresp="science">the Indians are remarkable for their
						knowledge of poisons, and no less so for their skill in antidotes</ref>
					<note xml:id="science" target="science_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">In the seventeenth century, science was not
						the well-established field we know it as today, and much work in the field
						more closely resembled philosophy. The reference here to Indigenous
						knowledges about the poisonous and antidotary plants could be a recognition
						to the validity of this information in respect to European modes of natural
						philosophy. While science is not yet formalized, the natural knowledges
						described by the narrator comprise the types of observations that began to
						solidify an American scientific tradition. (Reference: Alfred North
						Whitehead, <hi rend="italic">
                            <ref target="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Science_and_the_Modern_World/ea8DAAAAMAAJ">Science and the Modern World</ref>
                        </hi>)</note>, she instantly
					sought, and as quickly found, an herb whose <ref target="salutary_" corresp="salutary">salutary</ref>
					<note xml:id="salutary" target="salutary_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">having a good effect on somebody/something,
						though often seeming unpleasant</note> efficacy she was well acquainted
					with. She immediately squeezed the juice of it into his mouth, which soon
					reached his stomach, and made him eject the poison; but still his eyes were
					closed; a second dose revived him, and opening his eyes he uttered those words
					to the princess, just now related. "<ref target="heaven-be-praised_" corresp="heaven-be-praised">Heaven be praised
					</ref>
                    <note xml:id="heaven-be-praised" target="heaven-be-praised_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Unca saves William
					Winkfield from fatal poisoning using natural antidotes, yet she praises
					Heaven for his survival. The characters use nature here in a practical way
					but involve religion in a moral/philosophical sense. In 
					<ref target="https://doi.org/10.1057/978-1-137-46361-6_17">“Curiosity 
					and the Occult,” Barbara M. Benedict describes</ref> the complex relationship
					between science and religion in the context of the Royal Society, which
					was founded in 1660 with the goal of learning more about the natural world
					through scientific experimentation. Although scientists championed this
					experimentation as a way to better understand God’s power, other members
					of society “regarded it suspiciously as a usurpation of God’s role” (351),
					attitudes that continued into the eighteenth century as well (360). Though
					published in 1767, <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>is set prior
					to the founding of the Royal Society and may reflect a fantasy of
					returning to a simpler time of connection between religion and
					nature.</note>," said the princess, " my
					dear Winka, that I came time enough to save a life dearer to me than my own;
					suck more of this juice, and you will be entirely recovered."<pb n="28 [page breaks after 're-']" facs="pageImages/028.png"/>  He
					did so, and was soon able to get up and walk; but with a slow tottering pace,
					like a man whose brain has been hurt by the fumes of wine. The princess
					perceived his condition, and as they passed along gathered some flowers, the
					smell of which quickly dispelled the fumes, and fortified his brain so
					powerfully, that he was soon perfectly recovered, and his strength and
					understanding both entirely restored. Having returned the princess ten thousand
					thanks for thus giving him life a second time, they walked lowly homewards. </p>
				<p>During their short walk, my father related to the princess Unca all that had
					passed between him and the princess Alluca, her sister. When he had <pb n="29" facs="pageImages/029.png"/> finished his relation, the princess replied, "I
					will take effectual care for your security to-night, where my sister will not be
					able to discover you, and to-morrow I will consult my father what further
					measures we shall pursue." She then led him through some bye-paths of the wood,
					to the hut of an honest Indian, in whom she could confide; here she left him,
					with a caution not to stir out till her return next day. </p>
				<p>Early the next morning the princess Unca, and her father, came to the hut where
					his daughter had concealed my father. Here a consultation was begun. The king
					said, "He could no more blame his eldest daughter than he did his younger, for
					loving my father; that Alluca had conceived an affection for <pb n="30" facs="pageImages/030.png"/> him at the same time that Unca had, and at the
					instant that she touched him with her wand, Alluca was about to have done the
					same; that he highly condemned her intention to poison him; yet as she was
					tenderly beloved by him, as well as Unca, and his heir, he hoped my father would
					not desire him to inflict any punishment on her, since the loss of her lover
					would be a sufficient one." My father frankly declared that his regard for him,
					and his love for Unca, were sufficient motives to induce him to forgive her. The
					king then proposed that, to prevent all future danger, my father and the
					princess should be immediately married; and that they should both set out
					instantly for the place of my father's abode, and that, on his account, he would
					enter into a treaty <pb n="31" facs="pageImages/031.png"/> of friendship with
					his countrymen; and added, that he would give him a portion worthy of a
					princess. </p>
				<p>As <ref target="marriage_" corresp="marriage">my father considered marriage as a
						civil, as well as a religious, ceremony</ref>
					<note xml:id="marriage" target="marriage_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<p>The author’s discourse on marriage may be a response to Daniel Defoe’s
								<ref target="https://archive.org/details/religiouscourtsh1722defo/mode/2up">
								<hi rend="italic">Religious Courtship</hi>
							</ref> (1722). Puritan dissention toward liturgical practices meant that
							matrimonial ceremonies were modest, private engagements in the presence
							of a minister. Although its ritual was informal, marriage was regarded
							as the cornerstone of civic development through family building. This
							scene could perhaps be read as pushing Puritan logic ad absurdum: if a
							minister is merely witness to the marital vows, any kind of witness
							would do. Anglican matrimony, by contrast, would be facilitated publicly
							by a priest according to the ceremony prescribed in <ref target="http://justus.anglican.org/resources/bcp/1549/Marriage_1549.htm">The Book of Common Prayer</ref>.</p>
						<p>This also might be read as the set-up to a joke mocking Puritans,
							completed in a few paragraphs.</p>
					</note>, and found, by their discourse, that their matrimonial ceremonies had
					nothing in them contrary to his own religion, he very readily consented. An
					Indian priest was sent for, and the ceremony was soon performed. A proper cabin,
					or hut, was immediately prepared for the reception of the new-married couple,
					and they were securely guarded, to prevent further mischief, till such time as
					the necessary preparations were made for my father's return, with his bride, to
					his own <placeName type="tgn" key="7015896">plantation</placeName>. In a few
					days, every thing was ready for their departure.<pb n="32 [page breaks after 'de-']" facs="pageImages/032.png"/>  They took an affectionate leave of
					the old king, and got into a canoe provided for them, attended by several
					others, in which were several Indian maidens to attend Unca, and men slaves for
					my father, and a considerable baggage, the contents of which my father was then
					unacquainted with. Taking the advantage of wind and tide, they in a few hours
					arrived, without any accident, within a small distance of my father's
					plantation, to which he was heartily welcomed by his neighbours, who never
					expected to see him again. They were greatly surprised at his extraordinary
					adventure, and very glad that it proved the means of a friendship between them
					and the Indians. </p>

				<pb n="33" facs="pageImages/033.png"/>
				<p>My father being again settled with his dear Unca, in his own habitation, <ref target="ceremony_" corresp="ceremony">they were now married, according to
						the rights of the church of England</ref>
					<note xml:id="ceremony" target="ceremony_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Here the joke, “My father considered marriage
						as a civil, as well as a religious, ceremony” comes full circle. The first
						matrimonial service in the presence of Unca’s kin was “civil.” The second
						matrimonial service—the legitimate one for the Church of England—is the
						“religious” one. The joke is that if civil and religious categories of
						marriage are distinct, two ceremonies might be appropriate.</note>, by an
					English chaplain belonging to one of the men of war that then lay in the
					harbour. Now they began to examine tha017e presents that the king had made them,
					and found them to be very valuable, consisting of a great quantity of <ref target="wealth_" corresp="wealth">gold dust and precious stones, and many
						curiosities peculiar to the Indians</ref>
					<note xml:id="wealth" target="wealth_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The references herein offer an interesting
						muddling of natural and colonial forms of wealth that the author uses to
						describe her legacy from the Americas as well as a participation in several
						now-centuries old tropes describing indigenous Americans. The references to
						Eliza’s mother wearing diamonds and the “gold dust and precious stones” are
						not consistent with known mineral wealth that could have been acquired in
						Virginia at this time. The author could be engaging with literary propaganda
						about forms of wealth associated with the Indigenous stemming as far back as
						1605. See Beeman’s <ref target="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2147453">"Labor
							Forces and Race Relations: A Comparative View of the Colonization of
							Brazil and Virginia"</ref> (1971).</note>. However, my father thought it
					prudent to conceal the greater part of his riches from the knowledge of his
					neighbours, not knowing how strong a temptation a display of them might prove,
					as many of the colony were not only persons of desperate fortunes, but most of
					them <pb n="34" facs="pageImages/034.png"/> such whose crimes had rendered them
					obnoxious in their native country. </p>
				<p>As my father had persuaded his wife to conform to the European dress, he provided
					for her as well as he could, till he had an opportunity of procuring cloaths
					more suitable to her dignity. He took every opportunity that offered to send
					part of his riches over to <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName> privately, to be there disposed of, and such goods in
					return to be sent as he wanted; for it seems he had no inclination to leave his
					habitation, and the thoughts of it were highly disgusting to the princess: but
					had his own desires been ever so much for a removal, he would have sacrificed
					them to those of the princess, whom he passionately loved. </p>

				<pb n="35" facs="pageImages/035.png"/>
				<p>My father built him a more elegant house, which was suitably furnished, and his
					plantation by far the best and largest of any about him. This was a work of
					time. In the interim, my mother, proving with child from the night of their
					marriage, was safely delivered of me. I was, a month after, baptized by the name
					of Unca Eliza. The king, my grand-father, frequently sent a messenger to inquire
					after his children, who always attended with some present of fruit, flowers, or
					something more valuable. Thus happily did my father and mother live together,
					till I was about six years old; during which time they never heard the least
					news about their sister Alluca: but at this period an Indian brought <pb n="36" facs="pageImages/036.png"/> the news of the old king's death, and that
					Alluca, still single, was received as queen. </p>
				<p>A little after, as my father and mother were sitting in the garden, and I playing
					at their feet, a slave informed them that two Indians were come from the
					princess Alluca. As soon as they came into the garden my father was surprised to
					see that they had each of them a great coat on, contrary to the Indian custom:
					he had scarce made this reflection before one of them, being come close up to
					him, pulled a short dagger out of his sleeve, and made a push at him, which most
					probably would have proved mortal, had not he, by a sudden motion, avoided it.
					At the same instant my mother gave a loud <pb n="37" facs="pageImages/037.png"/>
					shriek, when my father, turning his eyes, saw her falling with a dagger in her
					breast, for the other assassin had been too successful in his murderous attempt.
					My father caught her in his arms, and received her dying blood and breath
					together. The slaves, that my mother's shrieks and my cries had brought to us,
					presently seized the two murderers. One of them, who dearly loved my mother,
					drew the dagger out of her breast, and plunged it into the heart of him who had
					assassinated my mother, and was going to have done the same by the other, when
					my father cried out, as loud as he was able, " Take him alive." He was instantly
					bound hand and foot, and carried to a place of security. </p>

				<pb n="38" facs="pageImages/038.png"/>
				<p>What is human felicity? How often our greatest pleasures procure us the greatest
					misery! This moment behold a happy couple mutually endearing themselves to each
					other, whilst the infant offspring of their loves beholds their joys, partakes
					of, and adds to them. The next--but let the scene sink into darkness! 'tis too
					affecting for a daughter's pen to draw. </p>
			</div>

			<div type="chapter" n="3">

				<pb n="39" facs="pageImages/039.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. III.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Death of the Indian queen; Unca and her father embark for
							<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>; provides for
						his brother; a description of the person and dress of the female American;
						her father returns to <placeName type="tgn" key="7007919">Virginia</placeName>; for which she afterwards sails, where her father
						dies.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">A</hi>S soon as my mother was buried, and my father a little
					composed, he called for the surviving assassin, and from him learnt that the
					princess Alluca had compelled him and his companion to be the instruments of her
					revenge on them, <ref target="love_" corresp="love">for his having slighted her love
					</ref>
                    <note xml:id="love" target="love_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Winkfield characterizes Alluca as villainous and violent 
					because Unca Eliza’s father "slighted her love." Winkfield writes a powerful woman 
					of color but with a stereotypical motive that has been exhausted in the media: 
					romantic or sexual jealousy. This stereotype can be related to the common trope 
					found in literature and film of the "<ref target="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/BlackJezebelStereotype">Jezebel</ref>," 
					defined as a sexually deviant woman of color with little characterization other than 
					love or lust. Harmful stereotypes of women of color in media such as <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi> can lead to negative perceptions in the real 
					world. Additionally, this negative characterization of Alluca lends additional 
					support to the <ref target="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/863539">growing scholarly 
					consensus</ref> that Winkfield was not a woman of color.</note>. My father consulted 
					<pb n="40" facs="pageImages/040.png"/> with the rest of the planters, whether
					they should deliver the assassin up to justice, or let him go home. Considering
					the infant state of the colony, and the temper of the reigning princess, <ref target="quarrel_" corresp="quarrel">they thought it prudent to avoid every
						thing that might occasion a quarrel with the Indians</ref>
					<note xml:id="quarrel" target="quarrel_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The unwillingness to disrupt the tenuous
						relations between the indigenous peoples of North America and Europeans may
						also be a reference to a series of conflicts occurring in the ten years
						before the original publication of the novel leading into the Seven Years
						War. Confederations of indigenous peoples fought for and supported on both
						sides.</note>, and therefore agreed to give their prisoner his liberty. At
					his departure, my father charged the slave to tell his queen, that her God, the
					sun, had seen the murder she had commanded, and would revenge it. </p>
				<p>It was not long after before my aunt the queen died of grief. A little before her
					death, she ordered, that after her decease her heart should be sent to my father
					with this message: "Receive a heart that, whilst it lived, <pb n="41" facs="pageImages/041.png"/> loved you, and had you received it, it had never
					been wicked. Forgive my revenge, and let my heart be buried with you when you
					are dead; but may the sun give you many days!"<!--quote adjustment--> This was
					accompanied with a very great present of gold dust, and her bow and arrows, of
					exquisite workmanship, for me. The bow, and some of the arrows, I still have. </p>
				<p>This renewed my father's grief, which had indeed but little subsided; therefore
					to divert his sorrows, and give me a better education, he determined to return
					to <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>. Every thing was
					accordingly prepared. I was about seven years old when we embarked, attended by
					several male and female slaves. We had a tolerable passage <pb n="42" facs="pageImages/042.png"/> to <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, and found my father's brother in good health. He was,
					as I before observed, a clergyman, and had a living in <placeName type="tgn" key="7008175">Surry</placeName>, where he constantly resided, had a wife,
					one son, and three daughters, the youngest of them elder than me. He was
					exceedingly glad to see his brother, and received me as if I had been a child of
					his own. He was an excellent divine, of great piety, and of uncommon learning,
					but ill provided for in the church. As my father was very rich, he gave him five
					hundred pounds for each of his children, and soon after bought the next
					presentation to a living of three hundred a year. The incumbent dying soon
					after, he presented my uncle to it, with a thousand pounds to pay the expence of
					removing, as he <pb n="43" facs="pageImages/043.png"/> said when he gave it.
					This occasioned our removal to a pleasant village near <placeName type="tgn" key="7011919">Windsor</placeName>. </p>
				<p>If I was kindly entertained by my uncle, I was little less caressed by the
					neighbours. <ref target="complexion_" corresp="complexion">My tawny
					complexion</ref>
                    <note xml:id="complexion" target="complexion_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The narrator claims to be of 
					Indigenous descent, but <ref target="https://www.jstor.org/stable/26564979">
					Emelia Abbé discusses</ref> the ways in which this novel actually plays on 
					the exploitation of Indigenous peoples through the lens of the colonial British 
					perspective.</note>, and the oddity of my dress, attracted every one's attention, 
					<ref target="habit_" corresp="habit">for my mother used to dress me in a kind of 
					mixed habit, neither perfectly in the Indian, nor yet in the European taste</ref>
					<note xml:id="habit" target="habit_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					The “mixed habit” of Unca Eliza’s dress may reflect her identity as a biracial woman 
					in eighteenth-century England. Unca Eliza recognizes herself as “neither perfectly” 
					European nor Indigenous. She is brought up in English society but is othered by the 
					community around her for her Indigenous identity. In <ref target="https://doi.org/10.1080/00497878.2016.1225400">“Models of Morality,” Victoria 
					Barnett-Wood connects</ref> <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>to the 
					Bildungsroman genre. Similar to modern “coming-of-age” stories, the Bildungsroman 
					centers around the growth of a character and their understanding of the world. In 
					this context, Unca Eliza’s attention to her otherness can be viewed as an early 
					development in her understanding and critique of the imperial world.</note>, either 
					of fine white linen, or a rich silk. I never wore a cap; but my lank black hair was
					adorned with diamonds and flowers. In the winter I wore a kind of loose mantle
					or cloak, which I used occasionally to wear on one shoulder, or to cast it
					behind me in folds, tied in the middle with a <ref target="ribband_" corresp="ribband">ribband</ref>
					<note xml:id="ribband" target="ribband_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">ribbon</note>, which <pb n="44" facs="pageImages/044.png"/> gave it a pleasing kind of romantic air. My arms
					were also adorned with strings of diamonds, and one of the same kind surrounded
					my waist. I frequently diverted myself with wearing the bow and arrow the queen
					my aunt left me, and was so dexterous a shooter, that, when very young, I could
					shoot a bird on the wing. </p>
				<p>My uncommon complexion, singular dress, and the grand manner in which I appeared,
					always attended by two female and two male slaves, could not fail of making me
					much taken notice of. I was accordingly invited by all the neighbouring gentry,
					who treated me in a degree little inferior to that of a princess, as I was
					always called; and indeed I might have been a queen, <pb n="45" facs="pageImages/045.png"/> if my father had pleased, for on the death of my
					aunt, the Indians made a formal tender of the crown to me; but I declined it. </p>
				<p>My uncle, who gave his daughters the same learned education with his son, desired
					I might make one of their society. This was very agreeable to my father, and no
					less so to me, who was very fond of my cousins, and willing to do what they did.
					I could already speak the Indian language as well as English, or rather with
					more fluency. </p>
				<p>In this manner we lived near a year, happy I should say all of us, but my father,
					who, as he had no business to do, grew more melancholy: he therefore resolved to
					revisit the country <pb n="46" facs="pageImages/046.png"/> where he had left the
					remains of his princess. It was in vain to intreat his stay, my uncle and aunt's
						<ref target="remonstrances_" corresp="remonstrances">remonstrances</ref>
					<note xml:id="remonstrances" target="remonstrances_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">protests or complaints</note> were lost, and
					only served to confirm his resolution of returning to his plantation. However,
					he thought proper to leave me with my uncle, to complete my education. Though I
					was unwilling to part with my father, I was as much so to leave my cousins, and
					therefore staid behind pretty contentedly. My father, before his departure, made
					great preparations for the improvement of his plantation, rather for his
					amusement, than from a desire of gain. </p>
				<p>I continued here till I was eighteen years of age; during which time I made a
					great progress in the Greek <pb n="47" facs="pageImages/047.png"/> and Latin
					languages, and other polite literature; whilst my good aunt took care of <ref target="education_" corresp="education">the
					female part of my education</ref>
                    <note xml:id="education" target="education_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">At this time, it was standard for women 
					to receive a different level of education from their male counterparts. Whereas men 
					belonged in the public sphere, women's lives were centered on home life and the 
					care and early education of children. In his influential work <ref target="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5427">
                            <hi rend="italic">Émile</hi>
                        </ref>, 
					Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) argues that any education of women beyond 
					housework should aim to “make them more effective and stimulating companions for 
					their husbands,” and only that (see <ref target="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/an-oxford-companion-to-the-romantic-age-9780199245437">
                            <hi rend="italic">An Oxford Companion to the 
					Romantic Age: Education</hi>
                        </ref>).<ref target="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1754-0208.2006.tb00651.x">Michèle Cohen argues that
					</ref> the limiting of the female curriculum was “not to meet the needs of 
					femininity so much as to produce femininity” (322). A proto-feminist critic of this 
					system, <ref target="http://id.loc.gov/rwo/agents/n83124681">Mary Astell</ref> 
					(1666-1731), protested as early as 1694 that women were being bred deliberately in 
					“ignorance and vanity” (<ref target="http://anthologydev.lib.virginia.edu/work/Astell/astell-serious-proposal">
                            <hi rend="italic">A Serious Proposal to the Ladies</hi>
                        </ref>, 31). The emphasis here on the 
					female education and its difference from that of men gives interesting insight into 
					the role of women during this time period.</note> with equal success. Tawny as I 
					was, with my lank black hair, I yet had my admirers, or such they pretended to be; 
					though perhaps my fortune tempted them more than my person, at least I thought so, 
					and accordingly diverted myself at their expence; for none touched my heart. </p>
				<p>Young as I was, I often thought on my dear mother, and honoured her memory with
					many tears. And as I found it was the custom in <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName> to erect monuments for persons who often
					were interred elsewhere, I desired my uncle to erect a superb mausoleum in his
					church-yard, sacred to <pb n="48" facs="pageImages/048.png"/> the memory of my
					dear mother. It is a lofty building, supported by Indians as big as life,
					ornamented with coronets, and other regalia, suitable to her dignity. The form
					is triangular, and on one side is cut an inscription in the Indian language,
					containing a short account of her life and death. This I drew up and translated
					into Latin and English, which fills up the two other sides; on the top is an
					urn, on which an Indian leans, and looks on it in a mournful posture. The whole
					is surrounded with iron <ref target="palisades_" corresp="palisades">pallisadoes</ref>
					<note xml:id="palisades" target="palisades_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Palisades are fences made of strong wooden or
						metal posts that are pointed at the top, typically used in the past to
						protect a building.</note>. This I often visited, and here I dropt many a
					tear. </p>
				<p>My father, by this time, begun to think my absence long, and desired my return,
					which was equally agreeable<pb n="49 [page breaks after 'agree-']" facs="pageImages/049.png"/>  to me; for though I was pleased with
					my situation, and the affectionate treatment of my relations, yet I secretly
					longed to see my native country, of which I retained a perfect idea, but more so
					to see my father. Every thing being prepared for my voyage, I, with my four
					slaves, embarked on board a ship for my return home, being then in my eighteenth
					year. However, my uncle insisted that his son John Winkfield, my cousin, should
					go with me to take care of me. His regard for me, and desire to see a strange
					country, made him very glad to accept of the proposal. </p>
				<p>During our voyage, my cousin neglected no opportunity to renew his addresses to
					me, which he had before <pb n="50" facs="pageImages/050.png"/> begun in
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>. I gravely told him
					I would never marry any man who could not use a bow and arrow as well as I could
					; but as he still continued his suit, I always laughed at him, and answered in
					the Indian language, of which he was entirely ignorant; and so by degrees
					wearied him into silence on that head. </p>
				<p>I shall not trouble my readers with any particulars of our voyage, and shall only
					say, that after a tedious and indifferent one, I once more found myself in the
					embraces of a tender father. The fight of me revived in his memory the
					remembrance of my dear mother, which drew from him a flood of tears, with which
					I sincerely joined mine. As soon as these subsided,<pb n="51 [page breaks after 'sub-']" facs="pageImages/051.png"/>  his transports of joy were as great to
					see me returned in safety, and to much improved. He received my cousin with
					great affecion, and, on his return home, gave him a bill on <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName> for one thousand pound
					sterling; which he might well do, for he was extremely rich. I on my part
					desired some considerable presents to be sent to my uncle and aunt, and to my
					cousins, with some of less value to my female acquaintance; together with some
					natural curiosities of my own country, as birds, shells, <ref target="etc_" corresp="etc">&amp;c</ref>
                    <note xml:id="etc" target="etc_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">et cetera</note>. </p>
				<p>There was one circumstance attending my education, whilst under my uncle's
					tuition, that, in justice to his memory, I ought not to omit, the religious
					part; and in this he was as <pb n="52" facs="pageImages/052.png"/> methodical
					and exact as though I had been to be a divine; nor did he <ref target="inculcate_" corresp="inculcate">inculcate</ref>
					<note xml:id="inculcate" target="inculcate_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">​to cause somebody to learn and remember
						ideas, moral principles, etc., especially by repeating them often</note>
					religion as a mere science; but in such a warm and affecting manner, that whilst
					his lectures convinced the understanding, they converted the heart, and made me
					love and know religion at the same time. The happy effectts of his pious
					instructions I have experienced throughout my life; and indeed in one part of it
					they were not only of the greatest comfort to me, but of the highest use; as
					will appear hereafter. </p>
				<p>But to return to my father: neither his riches, business, nor even my company,
					whom he most affectionately loved, could cure him of that melancholy under which
					he laboured from the decease of my mother. This, at <pb n="53" facs="pageImages/053.png"/> length, determined him once more to visit
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, that new objects
					might divert his mind. With this view he soon found means to remove his great
					wealth to <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, and prepared
					to dispose of his plantation; but by the time he had almost done the former, and
					had agreed to let his plantation, he grew so bad as to be incapable of a
					removal, and in a few days went to that happiness in another world, which he
					could not enjoy in this. </p>
			</div>

			<div type="chapter" n="4">

				<pb n="54" facs="pageImages/054.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. IV.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Unca buys a sloop, and embarks for <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>; the captain proposes a match between
						her and his son; her slaves and attendants massacred, and herself left on an
						uninhabited island.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">H</hi>AVING paid my father every funeral honour I could, and
					having nothing now to attach me to this country, and the bulk of my great
					fortune lying in <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, I
					determined to embark for that kingdom, and to conclude my days in my uncle's
					family. But Solomon saith, <ref target="Proverbs_" corresp="Proverbs">"The heart
						of man deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his going:"</ref>
					<note xml:id="Proverbs" target="Proverbs_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=proverbs+16%3A9&amp;version=KJV">Proverbs 16:9</ref>
					</note><!--quote adjustment--> and so I found it. I was now in my four and twentieth<pb n="55 [page breaks after 'twen-']" facs="pageImages/055.png"/> 
					year. At this time an opportunity offered that favoured my intended voyage.
					There was a sloop in the harbour, a good sailing vessel, and large enough to
					carry me, my attendants, and effects. I chose an old captain, who had lately
					been ship-wrecked, and lost his all, and who wanted to get over to his son in
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, to undertake the
					care of us, and as, a gratuity for his trouble, promised, if we arrived safe in
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, to give him the
					ship, that he might once more be able to follow his occupation. </p>
				<p>This proposal he accepted with great joy, and having got together a sufficient
					number of hands to navigate our vessel, I prepared to embark. Notwithstanding
					what my father had before sent to <pb n="56" facs="pageImages/056.png"/>
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, I had yet a great many
					valuable goods to take with me, to the amount of near ten thousand pounds. These
					being safely lodged on board, I followed myself, attended by my two favourite
					female slaves, who had sailed with me before, and six men slaves, who begged to
					attend me; though I had offered them their liberty, if they chose to stay
					behind. </p>
					<p>
                    <ref target="sailed_" corresp="sailed">We sailed with the first fair wind, 
					and had not been on our voyage above a day</ref>
                    <note xml:id="sailed" target="sailed_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">These details situate the island 
					on which Unca is eventually stranded in the Pamlico Sound region. During the 
					seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the average commercial vessel would be able 
					to reach speeds of <ref target="https://www.econstor.eu/bitstream/10419/109720/1/786607629.pdf">five miles 
					per hour</ref> in fair winds. Given that the ship had been sailing for less 
					than a day, the maximum range they could have reached would be 120 miles. 
					<ref target="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/46731/46731-h/46731-h.htm">The most 
					popular Virginian port during this time period was located in Norfolk</ref>, 
					and a return journey back to England would send the ship in a backwards "J" pattern 
					starting by going south until roughly the oceanic region off the coast of South 
					Carolina.</note> 
					before the captain, willing to lose no time, began to talk to me very freely
					about marriage. He did not indeed sollicit me for himself; but he made strong
					courtship for his son. I at first answered him with good humour, and told him I
					hoped he would let me <pb n="57" facs="pageImages/057.png"/> see his son before
					I determined to have him; and that if he could shoot with my bow and arrows,
					which then hung by me in the cabin, as well as I could, I would have him, were
					he ugly or handsome. But I soon found that he was too much in earnest, <ref target="gender_" corresp="gender">and I too much in his power</ref>
					<note xml:id="gender" target="gender_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Despite Unca Eliza's enormous wealth,
						extensive education, and physical ability with weapons, she still suffers
						the power disadvantages associated with her gender at this time.</note>: for
					in a peremptory manner he told me, that if I would not immediately sign a bond
					to marry his son, on our arrival in <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, or forfeit thirty thousand pounds, I should neither
					see <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, nor return to my
					plantation. I wondered he did not propose himself, but I found afterwards that
					he was a married man, as he informed me. I did not know law enough then, or else
					I might have given the bond, and so have avoided the distress that my refusal
					occasioned, as in <pb n="58" facs="pageImages/058.png"/> equity I might have
					been released from the penalty; and the readier, as my two female slaves were
					witnesses to all he said. But as I persisted in my refusal, he grew incensed,
					and having I suppose gained the ship's crew by promises to assist him, at last
					told me he was come to a resolution, that as I persisted in my refusal, he was
					now very opportunely coming to an uninhabited island, where he would leave me to
					be a prey to wild beasts; and that as I had given him my ship, he would make
					bold to give himself the cargo. Two of my men slaves happened to come behind him
					just as he said these words, when one of them caught him in his arms, and the
					other opening the cabin-window, threw him into the sea. I know not. whether I
					was sorry for this, <pb n="59" facs="pageImages/059.png"/> at that instant; but
					I soon had occasion to be heartily so, for the consequence was fatal to them. As
					our ship, at this time made very little way, and the captain could swim, he
					presently got up to the ship, and being seen by some of the crew, who knew not
					how he got overboard, a rope was thrown out, and he quickly drawn up. In the
					mean time, one of the two men slaves went, and brought the other four into my
					cabin. Soon after the captain, and several of his men, armed with piltols and
					cutlasses, came into the cabin. The captain advancing up to him who threw him
					overboard, shot him dead, and now a terrible skirmish began. I indeed got no
					hurt, which was a wonder, for though no blow was aimed at me the close of the
					place exposed me to <pb n="60" facs="pageImages/060.png"/> imminent danger; and
					the two female slaves got several wounds. My men slaves were unarmed, and
					therefore soon overcome, three were killed outright, and the others, I suppose,
					mortally wounded. The poor faithful fellow who opened the cabin-window was hung
					up alive at the yard-arm, bleeding as he was, there to perish by hunger, thirst,
					and heat. This touched me more than my own misfortune, I offered the captain a
					thousand pounds to release him, and to let him be cured of his wounds. "Madam,"
					returned the villain, "where are your thousand pounds? all you have on board is
					already in my possession."<!--quote adjustment-->-Thus could I only pity, but
					not relieve. </p>

				<pb n="61" facs="pageImages/061.png"/>
				<p>I now expected my own destiny; and it soon arrived. The captain, who had left the
					cabin, to dispose of his prisoners, returned, and once more asked me if I would
					sign the bond? I answered, no; and at the same time desired that my two maids
					might have some care taken of their wounds. He replied, he had no surgeon, and
					if they did not grow well soon he should throw them overboard; but if they
					recovered, he should sell them the first opportunity: he then left the cabin. A
					few hours afterwards we came to an uninhabited island, where he put me on shore,
					for nothing that I said could soften his heart. I begged hard for both, or one,
					of my maids; but all the favour I could obtain, was my bow and quiver of arrows: <pb n="62 page breaks after 'ar-'" facs="pageImages/062.png"/> indeed he
					gave me a box of clothes; but for these I did not thank him, as I never expected
					to use them, thinking myself <ref target="consign_" corresp="consign">consigned</ref>
					<note xml:id="consign" target="consign_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">consign: to make over as a possession, to
						deliver formally or commit, to a state, fate, etc.</note> to some wild
					beast, whose prey I should become. </p>
			</div>

			<div type="chapter" n="5">

				<pb n="63" facs="pageImages/063.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. V.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">She offers up praise to God; takes refuge in an <ref target="hermitage_" corresp="hermitage">hermitage</ref>
						<note xml:id="hermitage" target="hermitage_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">a solitary or lonely habitation, possibly
							the habitation of a hermit.</note>, where she finds a manuscript left by
						the deceased inhabitant, in which are intsructions how to subsist on the
						island; reflections on her situation.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">T</hi>HUS disconsolate, and alone, I sat on the sea-shore. My
					grief was too great for my spirits to bear; 
					<ref target="swoon1_" corresp="swoon">I sunk in a swoon</ref>
					<note xml:id="swoon" target="swoon1_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Both <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi> 
					and Daniel Defoe’s <hi rend="italic">Robinson Crusoe</hi> (1719) 
					mention their main characters falling into a swoon or “fainting-fit” 
					(<ref target="https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/8930231190">Oxford 
					English Dictionary</ref>). Crusoe faints as he 
					<ref target="https://anthology.lib.virginia.edu/work/Defoe/defoe-crusoe#PD1487N1l5l5l2l45">
					braves a tremendous storm at sea</ref>, while Unca Eliza faints in instances like 
					being stranded on an island, getting overstimulated, and thinking she sees a ghost. 
					Crusoe faints in response to a proportionally more severe situation, which can be 
					read as a commentary from Winkfield on the expected submissive roles of women in 
					eighteenth-century life. Winkfield’s use of swoon contrasts the major themes of 
					female authority and gender performance seen throughout the novel.</note> on the 
					ground: how long I lay in this senseless state I know not, or whether I might ever 
					have recovered, had not a wave, brought on by the rising tide, and which broke 
					over me, awaked me. I arose, hardly sensible where I was, or what I was doing, and
					ran to a rising ground, and here I <pb n="64" facs="pageImages/064.png"/> once
					again beheld my deplorable condition. A few minutes recollection brought me to a
					sense of my duty: for reflecting within my mind, that as the wicked captain
					could very easily have killed, or drowned me, it was a wonder that he should
					give me the least chance for life; that I ought therefore to thank God for this
					escape, and to commit myself to his <ref target="providence_" corresp="providence">providence</ref>
					<note xml:id="providence" target="providence_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">divine direction, control, or
					guidance</note>. Indeed, in the hour of affliction we are ready enough to pray
					to God for help; but are so taken up with a sense of our miseries, that we
					forget that we have any mercy to be thankful for. We should always sing a <ref target="te-deum_" corresp="te-deum">
						<hi rend="italic">Te Deum</hi> before we sigh a litany</ref>
					<note xml:id="te-deum" target="te-deum_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Short for Te Deum Laudamus, a traditional
						hymn of praise meaning, "We Praise You, O God." A litany is a prayer of
						supplication, or a request.</note>; for our sighs will sink before they
					reach heaven, unless raised thither by the wind of praise. </p>

				<pb n="65" facs="pageImages/065.png"/>
				<p>Filled with these ideas I fell on my knees, and thanked God, who had delivered me
					out of the hand of the wicked, and that now I was in his only. On this occasion,
					these words of <persName type="lcnaf" key="n79055293">David</persName> came into
					my mind; <ref target="allusions_" corresp="allusions">"Let me now fall into the
						hand of the Lord, for his mercies are great, and let me not fall into the
						hands of man."</ref>
					<note xml:id="allusions" target="allusions_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">A reference to both <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2+samuel+24%3A14&amp;version=KJV">2 Samuel 24.14</ref> and <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+chronicles+21%3A13&amp;version=KJV">1 Chronicles 21.13</ref> where David, the king of Israel, decides to
						take a census and build a temple. Winkfield’s comparison between her
						situation and that of King David’s may perform a sort of epic simile to mark
						the establishment of her religious authority on the
					island.</note><!--quote adjustment-->At the close of my prayers, I solemnly
					committed myself into the hands of God. I now arose from my knees with a
					serenity by no means to have been expected. During this composure of mind, I
					advanced to the highest ground I could see, in hopes I might discover some place
					of safety, not considering the improbability of such a discovery. Though the sun
					shone very hot, which soon dried my wet clothes, yet I saw it <pb n="66" facs="pageImages/066.png"/>declining <ref target="apace_" corresp="apace">apace</ref>
					<note xml:id="apace" target="apace_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">at a considerable or good pace</note>; I therefore kept looking about with
					eager expectation, when at last I saw, or thought I did, the ruins of a
					building. I advanced and saw it more distinctly: though it promised what I
					wished for, an <ref target="asylum_" corresp="asylum">asylum</ref>
					<note xml:id="asylum" target="asylum_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">a place of refuge, shelter, or
					retreat</note>, yet I dreaded to go nearer. I looked, I stopped, I prayed, and
					then I moved again; thus strangely divided between hope and fear, I still kept
					going forward, and in an inexpressible agitation got close up to it, almost
					insensibly. </p>
				<p>I was so near now as to perceive a door half open: I listened and heard no noise.
					Fearful to retire, or to enter, I stood trembling a long time. How long I might
					have remained in this condition I know not, had not a sudden noise behind me,
					like the hallooing of <pb n="67" facs="pageImages/067.png"/> a human voice,
					forced me <ref target="precipitately_" corresp="precipitately">precipitately</ref>
					<note xml:id="precipitately" target="precipitately_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">hastily, rashly</note> to rush in, fearless
					of the danger within, that I might avoid that which threatened me from without.
					This double sense of danger deprived me of my senses, 
					<ref target="swoon2_" corresp="swoon">and I sunk down in a swoon</ref>. 
					As I recovered by degrees, I saw all within the apartment before I was
					quite sensible enough to be afraid of my situation, and seeing nothing to alarm,
					I grew quite calm, and observing a kind of great chair, formed of several large
					and less stones, and the seat covered with a great heap of leaves, I sat down,
					and rested my weary limbs and agitated spirits. </p>
				<p>The sun still shone pretty bright through the holes in the wall, which was of
					stone, and perfectly discovered <pb n="68" facs="pageImages/068.png"/> every
					thing within. My fright had deprived me of the thought to shut the door:
					however, nothing came to hurt or alarm me. Before me was an heap of stones, on
					which laid a greater, which served as a table, and near enough to lean on. In a
					large fish-shell that lay on the table I perceived water, which I boldly
					ventured to drink of, and found myself instantly refreshed. I lifted upmy heart
					to heaven, with thanks, and <ref target="bespoke_" corresp="bespoke">bespoke</ref>
					<note xml:id="bespoke" target="bespoke_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">requested, asked for</note> its further
					protection. On my right hand I saw a kind of couch formed, like the table, of a
					heap of stones, and the flat part, or surface, covered with moss and leaves. I
					now concluded that this was the habitation of some human being: but this gave me
					no alarm; for as I had read of <ref target="hermit_" corresp="hermit">hermits</ref>
					<note xml:id="hermit" target="hermit_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">people who choose to live a solitary life for
						religious reasons</note>, who frequently retire from public life <pb n="69" facs="pageImages/069.png"/> to enjoy their devotions in private, I imagined,
					from what I saw, that this must be the habitation of such a one, from whom I did
					not doubt but I should meet with protection and spiritual consolation. </p>
				<p>This reflection restored me to such tranquility of mind, that I rested myself
					with the pleasing expectation of his return, which, considering it was near
					night, I thought could not be long. As I had now fresh cause to be thankful, I
					was so; and found I had spirits enough to sing a short Latin hymn of praise. But
					still no hermit appeared, and the sun was now set; but the moon was risen, and
					shone with so much brightness into the cell, that I scarcely missed the greater
					luminary. As I thus sat waiting,<pb n="70 [page breaks after 'wait-']" facs="pageImages/070.png"/>  I observed a book lying on the table,
					which I had not before perceived, which I supposed to be a book of devotion; but
					on opening it, found it to be a manuscript, in the first leaf of which were
					these words. </p>
				<p>"If this book should ever fall into the hands of any person, it is to inform him
					that I lived on this uninhabited island forty years; but now, finding the
					symptoms of death upon me, I am going to retire to another stone room, where I
					shall lay me down, and, if God pleases, rest for ever from all my troubles."
					<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>As this was dated, as to the month and year, tho' without day of the month, I
					concluded he must be dead, as it was a month ago, and therefore gave over <pb n="71" facs="pageImages/071.png"/> all expectation of seeing the hermit,
					with the thought of whose presence I had pleased myself. A little lower, in the
					same page, was added, "If thou shouldest be <ref target="obliged_" corresp="obliged">obliged</ref>
					<note xml:id="obliged" target="obliged_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">under a necessity</note> to stay here any
					time, there are no wild beasts or <ref target="noxious_" corresp="noxious">noxious</ref>
					<note xml:id="noxious" target="noxious_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">poisonous or harmful</note> animals to injure
					thee; nor savages, except once a year, on one day, see page of this book, 397.
					How you may subsist, you may learn from the history of my life."
					<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>I immediately turned to the page referred to, and found that it was yet two
					months to the time of the Indians coming on this island. I now thought I might
					sleep securely; I therefore shut the door, and fastened it with a heavy stone
					that lay there, I supposed for that use. Coming back from the door I spied <pb n="72" facs="pageImages/072.png"/> an heap of <ref target="roots_" corresp="roots">Indian roots</ref>
					<note xml:id="roots" target="roots_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The "Indian roots" referenced here are almost
						certainly cassava (also called yucca or manioc), a large tuber that was
						originally domesticated in what is today Brazil, and remains a global staple
						today. Cassava must be heavily processed to get rid of the deadly amounts of
						prussic acid the raw root contains. Processing techniques include
						fermenting, roasting, boiling, and more. Cassava has long been made into
						flour and bread. See Mark H. Zanger, "<ref target="https://www.oxfordreference.com/display/10.1093/acref/9780199734962.001.0001/acref-9780199734962-e-0139">Cassava</ref>," in <hi rend="italic">The Oxford Encyclopedia of Food
							and Drink in America</hi>.</note>, which I presently knew to be such,
					and which serve instead of bread. As some of them were yet very good, and had
					been roasted, being very hungry, I ate heartily, and drank more of the water. As
					I walked about the room I saw in a nook another shell, which I imagined to be
					filled with the juice of wild grapes, from the look and taste, and therefore, as
					I was faint, drank some of it, but with caution, as I found it was grown strong
					with standing. As the moon still shone very bright, I took out my Greek
					Testament, which I always carried in my pocket, it being my custom to read a
					chapter in it morning and night. I opened accidentally in the <ref target="epistle_" corresp="epistle">epistle</ref>
					<note xml:id="epistle" target="epistle_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">A letter, usually of public or formal nature.
						Many books in the New Testament are epistles.</note> to the Hebrews, and the
					first words that offered to my view were <pb n="73" facs="pageImages/073.png"/>
					these: chap. xiii. 5. <ref target="Hebrews_" corresp="Hebrews">
						<hi rend="italic">Οὐ μή σε ἀνῶ ουδ’ οὐμήσε ἐνκαταλίπω.</hi>
					</ref>
					<note xml:id="Hebrews" target="Hebrews_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Correct spelling should read, Οὐ μή σε ἀνῶ
						οὐδ’ οὐ μή σε ἐγκαταλίπω, which the King James Version of the Bible
						translates, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee” (<ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=hebrews+13.5&amp;version=KJV">Hebrews 13.5</ref>).</note> I cannot but say they gave me great
					comfort, and I thought myself, in that moment, equal to all the difficulties I
					foresaw I had to encounter with, through the divine protection: though I very
					well remembered the caution my pious and judicious uncle gave me. "Beware," said
					he, "of the practice of some enthusiasts of our times, who make the word of God
					literally an <ref target="oracle_" corresp="oracle">oracle</ref>
					<note xml:id="oracle" target="oracle_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">the instrument, agency, or medium through
						which the gods were supposed to speak or prophesy</note>, by opening of it
					at particular times, and on particular occasions, presuming that where-ever they
					open, they are to apply the passage to themselves, or to the business they are
					about; because many have thereby been led into spiritual pride, and others into
					despair, as they opened on a promise, or <pb n="74" facs="pageImages/074.png"/>a
					curse; whilst others have but too often, in the same manner, pleaded a warrant
					from scripture to perpetrate wickedness, or to propagate error. Though," added
					he, "happy is the christian who by a prudent and rational use of the scriptures
					procures comfort to his soul. For as the apostle says, Whatsoever things were
					written aforetime, were written for our learning, that we through patience and
					comfort of the scriptures, might have hope." <!--quote adjustment-->Rom. ch. xv.
					v. 4. </p>
				<p>Having read the whole chapter, and said my prayers, I prepared to take my rest on
					the stone couch, and laid down in my clothes, with more composure,
					notwithstanding my dreadful situation, than my wicked captain, I think, could
						<pb n="75" facs="pageImages/075.png"/>do, though indeed, I believe, a man
					may sin to such a degree, as to render his conscience quite callous; the most
					dreadful state a human being can sink into. Sleep soon closed my eyes, and I did
					not awake till the sun was up. My spirits cheered by such timely refreshment,
					and my devotions performed, I quitted my cell, and directed my feet towards the
					sea-shore, to see what was become of my chest that I had left there the
					preceding night; little expecting to see it again, because I thought the working
					of the tide must have washed it into the sea, or have buried it in the sands.
					After some search, I spied it almost buried indeed in the sands, but was not
					much better for the discovery, as I was unable to remove it. I therefore
					returned to my cell, ate <pb n="76" facs="pageImages/076.png"/>some of the
					Indian roots, and drank a little water, whilst my mind was busied, how I should
					break open my chest, and so bring away at times what I could not at once. I had
					indeed a small knife in my pocket, but that was not strong enough to cut through
					a thick board. I looked round my cell, but found nothing that could assist me.
					This gave me some concern, for if I could not come at my clothes, I considered
					that I should soon be very uneasy to myself, and started at the thoughts of
					going naked; however, for the present, I was obliged to be contented. </p>
				<p>But now other cares came into my mind. The roots I fed on were not all of them
					good, but only a few of them <pb n="77" facs="pageImages/077.png"/>so; and how
					was I to get more? I did suppose they grew in the island; but I was not fond of
					rambling. Though the hermit's manuscript assured me there were no inhabitants
					nor animals to hurt me, yet the thought of wandering alone was terrifying. I
					might lose my way, and not be able to find my cell again, or not under a long
					time; and even should I find plants near my habitation, how was I to make a fire
					to roast them? Other anxious thoughts still pressed upon my mind one after
					another. At last, I recollected, that in the memorandum I had read the night
					before, I was informed, that the hermit's manuscript contained instructions how
					to subsist. This once more cheered my mind; and I now began to give it a careful
					reading, but not regularly; <pb n="78" facs="pageImages/078.png"/>impatiently
					looking here and there for those things that most concerned me. It was written
					in a fair legible hand. I soon found that there was a flint and steel in the
					cell I was in; that at some distance there was a small river that ran quite
					through the island; that he made use of the shell of a certain fish for a lamp,
					in which he burned the fat of goats, and for a wick made use of a particular
					reed. I then searched to learn how he got goats to supply himself with fat, and,
					at last, met with this memorandum: "When I first came upon this island, I found
					plenty of goats, yet having no fire-arms, I was never the better for the
					discovery, as they were too wild to catch. But observing that they were very
					fond of a yellow fruit that grows <pb n="79" facs="pageImages/079.png"/>on
					several of the trees here, and that they were continually watching when any of
					it fell off to eat it, this suggested a thought, that if I gathered some of it,
					I might possibly tame them by giving them plenty of it to eat. I accordingly
					broke down some of the branches, and whilst I held them in my hand, they would
					follow me up and down like a dog, so that I could catch them when I pleased. I
					found also that the goats, if I laid plenty of this fruit before them, would let
					me milk them whilst they fed. I from this time, no more wanted either milk or
					goats flesh. But as I knew this fruit would not be on the trees all the year, I
					gathered large quantities of it in the season, and <pb n="80" facs="pageImages/080.png"/>saved them to serve in the other part of the
					year." <!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>This information gave me great pleasure; I immediately searched and found the
					steel and flint, and near them dry leaves and touch-wood. I now thought of
					setting fire to one end of my box, as thinking it better to burn part of my
					clothes than come at none of them: but however, I declined this method, in hopes
					of finding some better expedient; but was still very uneasy, lest the tide
					should remove it into the sea, or bury it out of sight in the sands; but I was
					obliged to run every risk. A few days afterwards what I wished for was effected
					by a means that I at first thought would have entirely deprived me of my chest.
					I <pb n="81" facs="pageImages/081.png"/>was walking near the sea-side, looking
					at my chest, when I observed the sea to rise, and presently the winds blew very
					tempestuously. I retreated back enough to observe the storm in safety, which, at
					last, became very great, and soon saw my chest tossed about by the waves, as
					though it had been as light as a feather. I expected that every fresh wave would
					remove it for ever out of my sight; but it was removed further and further on
					shore, as the sea advanced, till, at last, I saw it no more. I then gave it up
					for lost, and returned home, for so I now called my cell, very uneasy. </p>
				<p>However, the next day, the storm being over the night before, and the sun shining
					very bright, I again visited <pb n="82" facs="pageImages/082.png"/>the shore,
					and the spot where the chest had lain, but in vain. But seeing at a distance
					higher up from the shore some rocks, my curiosity led me to go up to them, not
					with any expectation of finding my chest, for I had given over all thoughts of
					it; but climbing up one of them, I found my chest lodged there. I was glad to
					see it, though the same difficulty still remained, how to open it. Being weary
					with climbing the rock, I sat myself down to rest. As I was sitting on that side
					of the rock that declined to the sea, I observed that on the other side of the
					rock was a very deep descent, at the bottom of which were craggy stones, but
					level with the rest of the island. I was startled at my nearness to it; however,
					this suggested something to my mind. If, <pb n="83" facs="pageImages/083.png"/>thought I, I could push the chest down this precipice, the fall might break
					it; at least, it would be out of the reach of the sea. However, I was afraid to
					do so, lest I should tumble over with it. But after some consideration, I
					thought that if I laid myself down on the ground, on the side on which I got up,
					I might attempt it.. I accordingly tried, and with great, difficulty moved it,
					but not immediately; at last, after a great deal of labour, it fell over. 
					<ref target="noise_" corresp="noise">The noise it made, when it came to the 
					ground frightened me, though I knew what it	was</ref>
                    <note xml:id="noise" target="noise_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Unca Eliza is 
					affected by the noise made by the falling chest, despite knowing its source 
					(herself). As <ref target="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neures.2006.09.019">Samson et al.</ref> explain, “noise is one of the most widespread sources 
					of environmental stress in living environments." 
					The physiological stress response is a "split-second" reaction, whereas the 
					recognition that there is a lack of immediate danger is a slower comedown. 
					Paula McDowell explains in her book, <ref target="https://search.worldcat.org/en/title/954134202">
                            <hi rend="italic">
					The Invention of the Oral: Print Commerce and Fugitive Voices in Eighteenth-
					Century Britain</hi>
                        </ref>, how “the consumption of sound is at once 
					physiological and psychological” and that “social and personal factors influence 
					not only what we hear but what it means.” The recognition that she is the source 
					of the noise changes the psychological meaning of the sound for Unca Eliza, 
					despite experiencing the natural physiological response.</note>. 
					My next business was to get down the way I came up, and then to find my way
					to the valley. I did so, but was obliged to go a great deal about. When I was
					come near to the spot, I found the ground so rugged <pb n="84" facs="pageImages/084.png"/> that it was with great difficulty, and not
					without several falls, that I reached the chest, which I found broke into a
					great many pieces, and it took me up near a whole day to remove the contents;
					gowns, linen, and many other useful things. All these I conveyed to my cell; not
					a little pleased that I had, at last, conquered this difficulty, and was now
					supplied with things that I should have greatly wanted. </p>
				<p>But to return to where I left off: having found the steel and flint, I
					immediately made a trial of them, and they were in very good order. I found
					three lamp-shells ready prepared; I lighted them, and they burnt very well. My
					next attempt was to get some goats milk, as I had yet tasted nothing but <pb n="85" facs="pageImages/085.png"/> roasted roots and water; I took a large
					fish-shell, of which I found plenty ready to my hand. It was not long before I
					met with the tree with the yellow fruit, and several goats under it, who ran a
					little way off as I advanced, but not out of sight, but seemed to wait as if
					they watched me. I found it very difficult to climb the tree; but, at last, got
					up and broke several boughs off: and as soon as I was down, the goats came to
					me; I laid the boughs down, and clapt my foot on them, lest the goats should
					drag them away. I now tried to milk one of them, but very <ref target="awkwardly_" corresp="awkwardly">aukwardly</ref>
					<note xml:id="awkwardly" target="awkwardly_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">awkwardly</note>, having never done so
					before. However, I got enough to drink then, and to bring home for another time.
					I repeated this practice till I became very ready at it; and not <pb n="86" facs="pageImages/086.png"/> knowing how soon the fruit might fail, I took
					care to gather and save a good deal of it. </p>
				<p>
					<ref target="goat_" corresp="goat">My next attempt was to kill a goat</ref>
					<note xml:id="goat" target="goat_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Goats arrived in the New World in 1493 via
						Columbus’s second voyage and quickly became prolific in the Americas.
						Winkfield’s resistance to killing the goat contrasts Robinson Crusoe’s
						hunting expeditions. It is also worth pointing out Winkfield’s use of her
						knife to kill the goat, despite her claims at being adept with a bow, and
						having it on the island. Winkfield does not use her bow to hunt at all while
						on the island (Kenneth F. Kiple, <hi rend="italic">
                            <ref target="https://www.google.com/books/edition/A_Movable_Feast/XWbcrS9SV-sC">A Movable Feast: Ten Millennia of Food Globalization</ref>
                        </hi>,
						156).</note>, as I found I grew weak for want of more substantial food than
					plants and milk. There was a knife fit for this purpose in my cell, and several
					others, and forks; but the thoughts of killing shocked me, and I was afraid to
					kill one whilst the others saw me, lest they should be afraid, and shun me for
					the future. Having therefore thrown down a good deal of the fruit, with a bough
					of it, <ref target="garden_" corresp="garden">I enticed one of 
					them to follow me till out of the sight of the others</ref>
					<note xml:id="garden" target="garden_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The line is perhaps an allusion to Eve coercing 
					Adam to eat the nameless fruit in the Garden of Eden 
					(<ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=genesis+3%3A6&amp;version=NIV">Genesis 
					3:6</ref>). According to Zachary Hutchins, women at this time were thought to 
					be likely to repeat the actions of their predecessor, Eve, a belief that prevented 
					women from holding power in the church or religious societies 
					(<ref target="https://doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199998142.001.0001">
					<hi rend="italic">Inventing Eden</hi>
                        </ref>, 12). Moreover, this passage may illustrate the ideology 
					of "Adamic innocence," which Hutchins also discusses. Some Europeans held that 
					Native Americans maintained an innocence akin to that of Adam and Eve before they 
					sinned by eating the fruit in the Garden of Eden. Unca Eliza may embody not only Eve,
					but a foreign religion (Christianity) intruding on the Adamic innocence of the goat, 
					which is native to the land.</note>; and then, but with great uneasiness to myself, 
					killed it. But a more difficult task was still behind, to skin and 
					<pb n="87" facs="pageImages/087.png"/> cut it up; but as my time was not very precious, 
					I had enough to bestow on it, and, at last, completed my job, though in a very 
					<ref target="bungling_" corresp="bungling">bungling</ref>
					<note xml:id="bungling" target="bungling_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">unskillful or clumsy</note> manner. I carried
					it home, and made a fire, having plenty of wood, and roasting some of it, I made
					a hearty grateful meal. What I could not eat whilst it was fresh, I salted; for
					I found plenty of salt on the rocks by the sea-side. </p>
				<p>My next care was to provide a new stock of roots, as those I found in the cell
					were nearly consumed. It was not long before I found plenty; these I roasted on
					a fire, and laid them up. If I was now rich in provisions, I was quickly more
					so; for almost every day, looking into the hermit's manuscript book, I learned
					from thence <pb n="88" facs="pageImages/088.png"/> that there was not only
					plenty of shellfish on the shore, all of them wholesome, except the black flesh
					kind, but that every tide left great numbers of other fishes in the holes and
					shallows. I soon tasted some of each sort, and found them very delicious;
					particularly a shell-fish, like what are called oysters in <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, and which needed no dressing; others were
					of the lobster and crab kind; the shells of the latter, being large, were very
					useful. Besides fish and flesh, I could also help myself to birds of various
					kinds, particularly some like larks, which I took according to the hermit's
					direction in this manner. From several of the trees issued a kind of <ref target="glutinous_" corresp="glutinous">glutinous</ref>
					<note xml:id="glutinous" target="glutinous_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">sticky, gluey</note> matter, which I gathered
					and besmeared the little low brambles and bushes with it, and by that means <pb n="89" facs="pageImages/089.png"/> catched a great many small birds, that
					used to eat the berries of them. </p>
				<p>What a plentiful table was here, furnished only at the expence of a little
					trouble! This happiness I owed to the misfortunes of another; for had not the
					hermit made these discoveries, and left the means of my coming at the knowledge
					of them, how miserable must have been the state of a lonely woman! Doubtless I
					should soon have perished with hunger! How graciously does <ref target="misfortunes_" corresp="misfortunes">the goodness of
					providence</ref>
                    <note xml:id="misfortunes" target="misfortunes_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Unca Eliza believes that
					God has provided everything she needs to survive on the island through the
					bountiful land and the labors of the hermit. Unca Eliza’s acceptance of
					the hermit's misfortunes because they ensure her survival on the island
					and her ability to evangelize, is representative of common eighteenth-
					century beliefs. There was historically an acceptance of the
					sufferings and labors of others for a perceived greater good, which for
					Protestants was religious conversion. For more on how faith in God's
					providential influence encouraged Protestants in their evangelizing
					endeavors in the American colonies, see Koch, <ref target="https://www.jstor.org/stable/24537464">"Slavery, Mission, and the
					Perils of Providence in Eighteenth-Century Christianity."</ref>
                    </note> 
					often raise help to the distressed from the misfortunes of others!
					The hermit who made these discoveries, and by them was supported, had great
					reason to thank God, and I no less cause to be thankful to the same being who
					influenced his heart <pb n="90" facs="pageImages/090.png"/> to leave behind him
					the history of his life, which proved the preservation of mine. </p>
				<p>If this reflection gladdened my heart, it was succeeded by one that gave me no
					less pain: "At last," cried I, "he died!--died here!--what might he not feel for
					want of some kind friend to ease his sufferings in his last hours! Forty years
					without human society! no opportunity offered to restore him to his native, or
					to any other country! must this be my fate?" <!--quote adjustment-->
					<ref target="tears_" corresp="tears">Tears gushed from mine eyes, and sorrow 
					filled my heart</ref>. <note xml:id="tears" target="tears_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The reaction that Unca Eliza has to her 
					circumstances on the island feeds into the stereotype that women are too emotional. 
					There was often much emphasis in eighteenth-century literature on “women’s 
					enslavement to their own sensibility and emotions” (<ref target="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/an-oxford-companion-to-the-romantic-age-9780199245437">
                            <hi rend="italic">An Oxford Companion to the 
					Romantic Age: Sensibility</hi>
                        </ref>). 
					According to the <hi rend="italic">Oxford English Dictionary</hi>, 
					<ref target="https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/6730865967">the definition 
					of “sensibility”</ref> when the novel was written was “The quality of being readily 
					and strongly affected by emotional or artistic influences and experiences; 
					emotional awareness; susceptibility or sensitivity to, keen awareness of” (4.a.). 
					This passage could seem to reflect stereotypes of women as overly emotional, which 
					existed then and still continue today.  However, at this time, it was seen as a 
					morally good thing to have emotion – as a man or a woman – making Unca Eliza’s 
					display of emotion here something to be admired that actually represents her 
					empathy and strength of virtue.</note> Thus weeping and lamenting I sat,
					and from time to time exclaimed, Wretched princess! what have I done to suffer
					thus from human treachery? But at length, a more comfortable view of <pb n="91" facs="pageImages/091.png"/> my condition again presented itself to my mind,
					and I was consoled: for I again reflected on the great improbability that there
					was of my finding such a resource in my captivity, as the hermit's book, and how
					thankful I ought to be. I will take this, cried I, as an earnest of a future
					deliverance. At this instant, I experienced such an inward persuasion in my
					mind, that I should escape from this island, that every uneasy thought fled, and
					left my mind a calm, scarcely to be expressed. I therefore arose, and went
					cheerfully about my little concerns; but not without having first thanked that
					God who had given me this consolation. </p>
			</div>

			<div type="chapter" n="6">

				<pb n="92" facs="pageImages/092.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. VI.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">The thoughts of her distress occasion a severe fever;
						recovers; seeks comfort in her own reflections.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">A</hi>s I had now settled my manner of living, I was very
					easy on that head, till this reflection destroyed all my peace: 'Tis true, I am
					well provided for the present; whilst the summer and fine weather continue, I
					can, with little difficulty, or rather amusement, supply myself with fish,
					flesh, and fowl; but winter no doubt will come, and how severe that season may
					prove I cannot foretel. How shall I, during the inclemency of it, procure the
					means of subsistence? There will be less plenty of birds; the gum, which now 
					spontaneously<pb n="93 [page breaks after 'spontane-']" facs="pageImages/093.png"/>
					 issues from the trees, will then fail, the sands on the coast
					being more frequently and violently agitated, will be unsafe, and my supplies
					from thence less, perhaps none; the goats will also yield little or no milk; and
					the rain perhaps may continue for many days, nay weeks, and confine me entirely
					to my cell.--Such were the anxious perplexing thoughts that agitated my mind;
					and the fear of the future destroyed the enjoyment of the present.--I sat
					dissolved in sighs and tears, and indulged my melancholy, till the night drew
					on, when I laid me down, but not to rest; and so greatly was my mind afflicted,
					that it brought on a violent fever, attended with a delirium. I <ref target="raved_" corresp="raved">raved</ref>
					<note xml:id="raved" target="raved_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">spoke wildly or incoherently</note>, I cried, I laughed by turns. I soon
					became so weak, that I was scarce able to <pb n="94" facs="pageImages/094.png"/>
					crawl from my bed to get some water, of which I happened to have plenty. As my
					thirst was great, I drank freely of it; but as the fever continued three days, I
					was now reduced to my last shell-full of water. I had at this time an interval
					of sense, when I found I was too weak to go out of my cell to fetch more, yet my
					thirst forced me to drink this; which I did, supposing it would be my last, and
					that death must be my next potion. I soon emptied the shell, and as well as I
					was able, and with as much resignation as I could, laid me down to die. It was
					not long before I fell asleep for the first time since the fever came on me; how
					long I slept I could not tell, but awoke in a great sweat, and found my thirst
					as great as ever, and to such an intolerable<pb n="95 [page breaks after 'into-']" facs="pageImages/095.png"/>  degree, that I determined, if
					possible, to attempt going to the river to drink, though I died in the way; for
					death itself was more eligible than the thirst I suffered. With much difficulty
					I raised myself up, and got upon the ground; but was obliged to crawl upon my
					hands and feet, and to rest very often by the way before I reached the river.
					Surely deliverance itself could not have given me greater pleasure than the
					sight of the water; I greedily thought there would be scarce enough to assuage
					my raging thirst. I laid myself flat on the edge, and whilst I drank, had the
					additional pleasure of cooling my hands and face. </p>
				<p>At length, my thirst was happily allayed; but the river was not dried up. <pb n="96" facs="pageImages/096.png"/> The coolness of the water was so
					agreeable to my hands and face, that I thought I would wash my feet, as they
					burnt with no less fierceness. To do this. It was obliged to seat myself on the
					bank. It was with much labour and difficulty I did so; but had scarce placed
					myself, when either the bank broke down, or I slipt, and into the water I fell,
					and plunged all over. Whether the water by its coolness braced my nerves, and
					gave me strength, or how I know not, but I soon reared my head above the
					surface, and crawled upon the shore; when my weakness again returned, and I fell
					all along, unable to stir, expecting to die every moment. At last, I fell into a
					deep sleep, I suppose for some hours, when I awoke in a violent sweat; I was
					still thirsty, but <pb n="97" facs="pageImages/097.png"/> not so painfully as
					before, and even found myself refreshed. I was fearful to have recourse to the
					river, lest I should fall into it again, when observing a shegoat asleep, very
					near me, I made shift to creep softly to her, and sucked her dugs, which she
					happily permitted. This was at first a comfortable relief; but I soon after grew
					very sick, and vomited violently. But I found that my fever was quite gone off,
					and that I was no longer thirsty. Reflecting on the great escape I had from
					drowning, and the favourable change in my health, whereas the mere circumstance
					of being immersed in the water, in the condition I was, might have proved
					instant death, I lifted up my heart unto God, and <ref target="unfeignedly_" corresp="unfeignedly">unfeignedly</ref>
					<note xml:id="unfeignedly" target="unfeignedly_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">sincerely, genuinely</note> thanked him for
					his mercy. </p>

				<pb n="98" facs="pageImages/098.png"/>
				<p>I now attempted to get up and crawl to my cell; but found myself too weak to do
					either. All I could do was, to sit up sometimes a little. The sun, indeed, dried
					my clothes apace, but its heat was too violent to bear long; I was forced
					therefore to crawl a little way off under the shade of some trees that grew on
					the banks of the river; but this I was long performing, though not above two or
					three yards off. The shade of the trees protecting me from the sun's scorching
					beams, and the cool breezes which came upon me from the river refreshing me
					greatly, I once more fell asleep. When I awaked I was greatly but agreeably
					surprised to find how much better I was. My clothes were quite dry; and now I
					hoped I might be able to get to my cell; for I saw the sun was <pb n="99" facs="pageImages/099.png"/> setting: though I was not thirsty, I could have
					been glad of some more milk, but there was no goat near me; for notwithstanding
					the milk had made me sick, yet I believe it contributed to my revovery, by
					clearing my stomach. I once more attempted to crawl home, for I could do no
					more, and glad was I to do so. At last, I reached my cell, much fatigued and
					very weak, and greatly in want of some refreshment. I soon recollected there was
					some of that wine left that I drank of the first day I came, and made shift to
					reach it, but having no water to mix with it, I drank but a very little of it,
					and that little was too strong for my stomach to stay in it. Still finding my
					stomach empty and uneasy, I, at last, remembered my root bread, I cut a slice of
					it, and soaked <pb n="100" facs="pageImages/100.png"/> it in the wine; I ate
					sparingly of it, and found it agreed with me, and refreshed me greatly. The rest
					of it I laid by my couch, and bit a piece of it now and then, for I lay awake
					most part of the night, but free from both thirst and fever. </p>
				<p>Towards morning I slept soundly, and when I awaked I was much surprised to find
					how my strength was recruited, or rather my weakness abated. I got up, and most
					heartily thanked God for my recovery, and with the help of two sticks made shift
					to walk, though slowly. I reached some of the yellow fruit with which I used to
					entice the goats, and laid it before the door, in hopes, that the goats would
					see it, for I could not walk in search of them; <pb n="101" facs="pageImages/101.png"/> putting some stones upon the boughs, that they
					might not drag them away. At last a she-goat came, and I milked her, and drank a
					large shell of it, with a little bit of my root bread. This agreed extremely
					well with my stomach; I continued this practice for about a week, once a day,
					drinking a little wine with water; and thus once more happily recovered my
					health and my strength to such a degree, that I could now walk about and do my
					little business; and, in a week more, was as well and almost as strong as
					before. I now had been upon this place a month; for as I had an <ref target="almanac_" corresp="almanac">Almanack</ref>
					<note xml:id="almanac" target="almanac_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">An almanac is an annually-published book of
						tables containing a calendar of months and days, with astronomical data and
						calculations, ecclesiastical and other anniversaries, and astrological and
						meteorological information.</note> with me, I kept an exact account of time,
					that I might be sure to conceal myself on the day the Indians were to <pb n="102" facs="pageImages/102.png"/> arrive, as cautioned by the hermit's
					manuscript. </p>
				<p>Being thus recovered, I could not but reflect that I owed my late sickness to my
					giving way to those anxious corroding cares that had arisen in my mind
					concerning my future subsistence; and I could not but condemn my folly, and
					mourn for the sinfulness of it, and of which, I hope, I heartily repented. </p>
				<p>My dear uncle was a great recommender of meditation: "That man," said he, "hardly
					knows that he is a thinking being, who does not often meditate by himself. It
					is," said he, "a glorious privilege, and he who practises <pb n="103" facs="pageImages/103.png"/> it will grow wiser and better by an hour's
					serious meditation than by a month's reading. We should," continued he, "be
					often inculcating upon our minds the truths we know, and they will become fixed.
					We should often rebuke, advise, and console ourselves, and we shall become
					better men, more prudent, and more contented."<!--quote adjustment--> I was so
					strongly convinced of the reasonableness and utility of this practice that I
					adopted it. And, according to his further advice, used to talk to myself aloud,
					as the occasion required, as I would to another; and that with all the force of
					argument, vehemence, and energy of expression I could, or as the nature of the
					subject required. Upon these occasions I have been frequently surprised to find
					how <pb n="104" facs="pageImages/104.png"/> my understanding has been convinced,
					my affections moved, aud my will determined. I have assented to a truth I never
					before believed, wept at the convicion of a fault, and have found a consolation
					in a time of trouble that I did not expect. On these occasions, it was always my
					custom to imagine to myself that my uncle was speaking to me; this I thought, as
					it were, inspired me, and gave an energy to my words, strength to my arguments,
					and commanded my attention. I have sometimes indulged this reverie to such a
					degree that I have really imagined, at last, that my uncle was speaking to me. </p>
				<p>By reflecting on my late sickness and the occasion of it, I was led into <pb n="105" facs="pageImages/105.png"/> one of these <ref target="soliloquy_" corresp="soliloquy">soliloquies</ref>
					<note xml:id="soliloquy" target="soliloquy_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">speeches to or conversations with
						oneself</note>; and thus in the imagined person of my uncle did I address
					myself. </p>
				<p>"In vain, I find, are the <ref target="precepts_" corresp="precepts">precepts</ref>
					<note xml:id="precepts" target="precepts_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">rules for action or conduct</note> that I so
					often inculcated on your mind; they have not reached your heart, and, I fear,
					are erased from your memory. It was easy in the day of prosperity to hear
					instructions how to bear adversity, but in the hour of calamity they are
					forgotten. From the days of your infancy the smiles of providence almost
					constantly attended you. You were too young at your mother's death long to feel
					her loss; and that of your father's was the most poignant. Indeed, to be at once
					deprived of your great affluence, and secluded from human society, are <pb n="106" facs="pageImages/106.png"/> afflictions not of a light weight. But
					still, could you find no consolation? The dread of approaching winter, in your
					situation, might alarm; but sure, at your first coming on this island, you had
					no less reason, surely more so, to be alarmed for your then immediate
					preservation. Yet what favourable circumstances have intervened! And such as, if
					properly improved, may prevent the calamities you dread. How preferable is your
					condition to that of those consigned to slavery for
					life! forced to bear with accumulated evils, utterly unknown to you! slaves to a
					tyrant, and the subjects of unrelenting cruelty! Ah, Eliza! would we but compare
					our sufferings with those of others, where would the wretch be <pb n="107" facs="pageImages/107.png"/> found who would not have something wherewith to
					console himself? </p>
				<p>How many have voluntarily quitted the advantages of society, to avoid the
					temptations of it, in a worse retirement than yours?–-Thus might I reason with a
					heathen, and I think, not without success. But is not Unca a christian, or would
					be such? Receive then the instructions of a higher school, and learn of a better
					master. Remember him who through sufferings was made perfect, and that the
					disciple is not to be above his "master. Let then your whole life be one
					continual <ref target="eyes_" corresp="eyes">
						<hi rend="italic">Ἀφορωντες εις τὴν Ιησοῦν.</hi>
					</ref>
					<note xml:id="eyes" target="eyes_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">"Fixing our eyes on Jesus," or "Looking unto
						Jesus"; a fragmented version of the Greek in <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=hebrews+12.2&amp;version=SBLGNT">Hebrews 12.2</ref>, which makes more sense in its full context: "Let us
						run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the
						author and finisher of our faith" (<ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=hebrews+12.1-2+&amp;version=KJV">Hebrews 12.1-2</ref>). The translation “imitation of Jesus,” which
						appears in the American edition, would reference <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+corinthians+11.1&amp;version=KJV">1 Corinthians 11.1</ref> or <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=ephesians+5.1&amp;version=KJV">Ephesians 5.1</ref>; however, the Greek here does not correspond to
						those verses.</note> The greater your calamities, the greater should be your
					trust and confidence in God. He who relies <pb n="108" facs="pageImages/108.png"/> most on his providence, glorifies him most. We should never neglect the use
					of means whilst in our power: but when they fail, we must still look up to him,
					who needs them not; for when we have done our utmost, we must not despair, as
					though God's power was cut off with ours. No; at such a time we must commit
					ourselves and our wants to him, with a firm persuasion that he will help us. If
					we make him the object of our faith and prayers, we shall "become the subjects
					of his mercy. Remember godliness hath the promise of this life, as well as of
					that which is to come. But always be mindful that we are to commit ourselves to
					him by a patient continuance in well-doing.–-No imaginary flights of faith will warrant
						<pb n="109 [page breaks after 'war-']" facs="pageImages/109.png"/> 
					our confidence in him, nothing will do unless we prove ourselves to be his
					servants by keeping his commands; for true saving faith always produces good
					works. Believe and obey; be thankful to God for the mercies you enjoy, and trust
					in him for those you want. The citizen may be wretched and the solitary happy.
					Human felicity or misery is confined to no place or circumstance of life. The
					servant of God is safe wheresoever or howsoever he be. Humble thyself therefore,
					under the Almighty hand of God, and he shall exalt thee in due time. Let not
					your care for this present life make you neglect that of a future one. Should
					your body die here, your soul will not find the way to heaven the more <pb n="110" facs="pageImages/110.png"/> difficult. Though the cloud of
					affliction now hangs over your head, the sun of mercy behind may dispel it, and
					once more show his glorious face. Believe, obey, and trust, and be saved,
					blessed, and delivered." </p>
				<p>Thus did I endeavour to fortify my heart, and to learn patience and resignation
					to the dispensations of providence; nor were my attempts in vain; nor did I ever
					again suffer such anxious cares as those from which I was just now delivered.
					Submission or hope, one or both, were ever after in a less or greater degree my
					solace. </p>
			</div>

			<div type="chapter" n="7">

				<pb n="111" facs="pageImages/111.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. VII.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Again consults the hermit's manuscript; some account of his
						life; finds the hermitage to be the temple of the sun; discovers a great
						number of mummies, and on her return from exploring the temple, perceives
						the hermit at his devotions.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">I</hi> HAD not yet read the hermit's manuscript regularly,
					but here and there, as I hoped to find some necessary and useful directions for
					my manner of subsistence. But having now pretty well attained this desirable
					end, I purposed to read it from the beginning regularly through, without
					omitting any part. But before I begun, for I found it <pb n="112" facs="pageImages/112.png"/> would take up a great while, I once more hastily
					looked it over, to find when, and what kind of winter I had to expect. I found
					that it was now but the beginning of the summer, or rather spring, and that I
					had at least six months certain good weather before me, except some great storms
					of thunder and lightning. As I had so much time between me and winter, I did not
					stop now to learn how the hermit provided against that event; but, according to
					my first intention, assigned a few hours every day to the history of his life. </p>
				<p>As I have this manuscript still in my possession, I shall do no more than give a
					very short view of its contents, though the whole of it would very well <pb n="113" facs="pageImages/113.png"/> deserve to be made public. From this
					manuscript I learned, that the hermit as I called him, on account of his recluse
					life, might yet be more properly called so on account of his extraordinary
					piety. The history of his life is indeed wonderfully extraordinary, highly
					entertaining, and full of improvement. <ref target="life_" corresp="life">The
						first thirty years of his life were unhappily consumed in more than useless
						follies</ref>
					<note xml:id="life" target="life_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The hermit character and the manuscript found
						by Unca Eliza can be read as the author engaging with tropes of popular
						castaway narratives. The hermit himself could be a reference to Peter
						Longueville’s <hi rend="italic">The Hermit</hi> (1727), which recounts the
						discovery of an Englishman on a remote island who had lived there for fifty
						years and had no desire to return to society. The manuscript, and in
						particular the summary given here, may be parodying the autobiographical
						account present in <ref target="http://virginia-anthology.org/robinson-crusoe">
							<hi rend="italic">Robinson Crusoe</hi>
						</ref> (1719)</note>; in vices that had well nigh brought him to a shameful
					exit, but ended only in the loss of his liberty, which he very unexpectedly and
					no less wonderfully regained; if his living the last forty years of his life in
					this place may be called a state of liberty. </p>

				<pb n="114" facs="pageImages/114.png"/>
				<p>But his residence here proved the happy means of his conversion, of which with
					great modesty and ingenuousness, he gives an ample account. The manner of his
					living here was attended with a greater variety of events, than could have been
					expected from such a solitary situation. His occasional reflections are sensible
					and pious, useful and pertinent. The cell, as I called it, that I now inhabited,
					I found to be but one of many others; the ruins, as he rationally conjectured,
					of some very ancient palace, or rather temple, which he supposed anciently
					belonged to a very large statue, or image, at a considerable distance from the
					place of my habitation, and to which the ruins approached, and in part
					surrounded. This he imagined to <pb n="115" facs="pageImages/115.png"/> have
					been an ancient idol sacred to the sun, which the Indians adored. For, says he,
					"Once a year, vast numbers of them <ref target="continent_" corresp="continent">come 
					over from the continent in canoes</ref> <note xml:id="continent" target="continent_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The Native tribe closest to the 
					Pamlico Sound region would be the <ref target="https://www.ncpedia.org/mattamuskeet-indians">Mattamuskeet</ref> 
					tribe, who utilized 
					<ref target="https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-3-030-45481-4_5">dugout 
					canoes</ref> for their fishing and transportation needs. Unca states that the Natives 
					came from the continent and thus would need to be able to journey a fair distance into 
					the Pamlico Sound. There is only one uninhabited island in the Pamlico Sound with 
					waterway access from the continental side: <placeName type="tgn" key="2368737">Gull
					Island</placeName> . This island would be reachable by dugout canoe from
					nearby <ref target="https://nativeheritageproject.com/2012/06/12/cape-fear-machapunga-   coree-tuscarora-and-mattamuskeet-indians/">Hatteras Island</ref>, where
					the Mattamuskeet tribe traditionally had communities.</note>, on
					the opposite side of the island, and having spent almost the whole day in a kind
					of devotion to this idol, they then go back again, and never revisit it till the
					annual return of the same day."<!--quote adjustment--> The knowledge of which he
					having learned, he took such effectual care to conceal himself, that he never
					was discovered, as I afterwards was certainly satisfied. The latter part of his
					life was uniformly the same to the time that he wrote the memorandum already
					mentioned, which says, That he was retired from the cell he usually inhabited,
					to die in some other. </p>

				<pb n="116" facs="pageImages/116.png"/>
				<p>I had not patience to go through the whole history, till I had seen this
					extraordinary idol. For this purpose, I got up early the next morning, put some
					roots in my pocket, and a shell to drink out of, that I might have the whole day
					at my command. I could not, indeed, but have observed before, that there were
					many other stone rooms besides that which I inhabited; but had never as yet gone
					into any other excepting two; in one of which 1 laid up the branches of yellow
					fruit I gathered for the goats, and the other in which I kept my dried goat's
					flesh, and some dried fish. Upon searching, I found some uninhabitable, others
					in as good condition as that I dwelt in, some well lighted with holes on the
					sides, others dark. But being curious to see if I could discover why this
					distinction was <pb n="117" facs="pageImages/117.png"/> made, not being far from
					my cell, I fetched one of my lighted lamps. </p>
				<p>The first room I entered, I found surrounded with mummies, like those I have read
					of in the histories of <placeName type="tgn" key="7014986">Egypt</placeName>,
					and one of which I once saw in <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>. At first I started; but instantly recollecting, that I
					had no cause to fear, I examined them with great attention. They were all placed
					upright, as close as they could be round the cell, without touching one another.
					Observing Indian characters upon each of them finely painted, besides various
					drawings of birds, beasts, insects, and other things, I examined them more
					nicely. As I understood the Indian languages perfectly, I soon learned that
					these had been priests of the sun. Each mummy had on it the name of the <pb n="118" facs="pageImages/118.png"/> priest, his age, and the time of his
					death; by which I found that most of them had been there at least one thousand
					years. Leaving this, I went into another, and another, till I had visited a
					dozen, all filled in the same manner, with the same order of men, all uninjured
					by time. </p>
				<p>Some other rooms, which were much more spacious, were filled with stone coffins,
					with just room to pass between, and against the walls they were placed, at a
					little distance between each, to the height of four coffins. These I supposed
					had not been embalmed, for as they were all uncovered, I could see no remains of
					their bodies but the ashes; but at the head of each, lay a kind of coronet. I
					took up several of them, and imagined they were made of gold, as I afterwards
					found they were. I suppose,<pb n="119 [page breaks after 'sup-']" facs="pageImages/119.png"/> from the make of them, they had been
					worn upon their heads. </p>
				<p>I should have observed that when I was viewing the mummies, I found golden <ref target="coronet_" corresp="coronet">coronets</ref>
					<note xml:id="coronet" target="coronet_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">a round decoration for the head, especially
						one made of flowers</note> placed upon each of their heads, but of a larger
					and different make, which showed that they had never been worn, but made on
					purpose, as I conjectured, for the use to which they were applied. I was very
					desirous to know who those had been whose ashes only remained, and at last,
					discovered an inscription on the headstone of each coffin, from which I learned
					that they had been virgins of the sun, consecrated to the service of the temple.
					Of these virgins I found in different rooms many hundreds, and several hundreds
					of the priests. As I <pb n="120" facs="pageImages/120.png"/>continued my search,
					I found other rooms, but all at a little distance from one another, some not at
					all injured by time, others a little, and some a great deal. At last, I came to
					a group of, I believe, about five hundred, of a different form from the rest,
					and much less. Each of these contained only one mummy, which, upon inspection, I
					found were the mummies of the highpriests of the sun. These had also a crown of
					gold on their heads, and suspended on their breasts, a golden figure of the sun,
					rudely carved in gold. What a collection of mummies and of golden treasure! "But
					what is this?" cried I, "I had too much gold before to be
					happy."<!--quote adjustment--> This reflection gave birth to a sigh; but I soon
					suppressed its progress; and as I <pb n="121" facs="pageImages/121.png"/>found
					the day was too far gone to pursue my journey to the idol, I returned ruminating
					on what I had seen, towards my solitary cell; for such I must still call it,
					though I might truly say to my apartment in the palace. I should have mentioned
					that in each of the dormitories, I found a lamp of gold suspended from the roof,
					one of these was still burning. This confirmed what I had read of the perpetual
					lamps of the ancients. </p>
				<p>I had indulged myself so long in my rambles among these dormitories, that it was
					dark before I reached my cell. But what was my astonishment when pushing the
					door open, I saw in my cell a light! This, at the same instant, discovered to my
					sight, a venerable <pb n="122 [page breaks after 've-']" facs="pageImages/122.png"/>venerable old man, with a long beard, kneeling as at his prayers. I concluded,
					that it must be the ghost of the old hermit. This was too much; and <ref target="swoon3_" corresp="swoon">I sunk down in a swoon</ref>. My fall, I suppose, 
					alarmed the hermit; for, when I came to myself,I found him sitting by me, 
					supporting me in his arms, being too weak to lift me up. As soon as he saw me 
					revive, "My daughter," said he "be comforted, you are safe; whatever misfortune 
					may have brought you here, what protection and help a poor feeble old man can give, 
					you may depend on."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>Being a little more composed, I got up, and accompanied the old man into the
					cell; though not as yet thoroughly satisfied whether I conversed with the <pb n="123" facs="pageImages/123.png"/>dead, or the living. In the mean time he
					brought the shell that had still some wine in it to me; I drank a little of it,
					and found myself quite recovered, when we entered into discourse. He then drank
					some himself. </p>
				<p>"Holy father," said I, "I thought you had been dead some weeks ago; are you
					really living, or do I converse with a spirit?" "My daughter," returned the
					hermit, "I am really a living body, though too weak and faint to live much
					longer. But how comes it that you speak to me in a manner as if you knew me? I
					was surprized to see you here, but more so to hear you talk in this manner; and,
					did not your late swooning convince me that you are a mortal like myself, <pb n="124" facs="pageImages/124.png"/>I should think that I, in my turn, was
					also discoursing with a spirit."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>This gave me occasion to acquaint him with the cause of my coming on the island,
					and what had passed since, to the time of our meeting. </p>
				<p>"Have I then," cried he, "been so happy as to have my misfortunes prove the means
					of affording assistance to an innocent and unhappy sufferer? Thanks be to
					God!--I wrote," continued he, "the memorandum of my supposed approaching death,
					that you have read, and thinking my end to be very near, walked out with a
					design to go to one of the dormitories belonging, as I find by your information,
					to the <pb n="125" facs="pageImages/125.png"/>virgins of the sun, in order to
					clear one of them of the ashes it contained, and lay myself down in it; and
					there to await my approaching dissolution, which I thought could not then be far
					off; but as I was going thither a kind of delirium seized my brain, and I
					wandered up and down, unknowing where I went. Though I had intervals of sense,
					they never continued long enough for me either to find my way back to my cell,
					or to a dormitory. The only advantage I reaped from them was when I found myself
					hungry or dry, to gather fruits to eat, and to seek for water. I suppose in my
					rambles I got to the more remote part of the island. Once indeed I imagined I
					was very near my cell, and that I <pb n="126" facs="pageImages/126.png"/>thought
					I saw the figure of a woman standing at the door; upon which I halloed as loud
					as I could; but it vanished like lightning from my sight. Having to-day the
					enjoyment of my senses, I at the close of it found my way to my cell; there was
					just light enough to guide me to one of my lamps, which I lighted, and was
					kneeled down to say my prayers, when the noise of your fall made me turn round
					in a start, and I beheld you lying on the ground. This augmented my surprize,
					and it was some moments before I could recover myself, so as to be able to move
					to your assistance." <!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
			</div>

			<div type="chapter" n="8">
				<pb n="127" facs="pageImages/127.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. VIII.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">The hermit dies; the idol of the sun described; discovers a
						subterranean cell, that leads to the inside of the idol; a terrible
						tempest.</hi>
				</head>
				<p> FNDING the hermit stopped his discourse, I told him, I believed that he really
					saw me, for that about a month ago, as already related in the foregoing part of
					my life<ref target="auth1_" corresp="auth1">*</ref>
                    <note xml:id="auth1" target="auth1_" type="authorial">[Note in original] See page 66.</note>, the
					day I was put upon the island, as I stood at the door of his cell, fearful to
					enter, I then imagined that I heard an human voice calling to me: the fright
					drove me into the cell; but from that time to this I could never account for it,
					but <pb n="128" facs="pageImages/128.png"/> concluded afterwards that the noise
					existed only in my fearful imagination. </p>
				<p>During our conversation we refreshed ourselves with some goats flesh and roots,
					and, now the night being far spent, I persuaded the hermit, after much intreaty,
					to repose himself on the stone couch, whilst I sat in the chair. The sun was far
					advanced the next morning, when I found the hermit still reclined on the couch.
					I thought he might still be sleeping, and went softly out, to get some goats
					milk for our breakfast, and after my return waited some hours for his awaking;
					but as he did not stir, I began to suspect he might be dead. At last I persuaded
					myself to go nearer, and now perceived he was really so. I was sorry so soon to
					have lost <pb n="129" facs="pageImages/129.png"/> his society, from which I
					promised myself much solace. As it was impossible for me to remove him, had I
					been ever so desirous, I immediately set myself to convey every thing out of the
					room into another, which I found equally convenient; only I had the trouble to
					gather moss and leaves to lay upon the couch. </p>
				<p>When I quitted the room entirely, I pulled the door after me, and with loose
					stones, of which there were plenty, so closed it up that no creature could
					enter. The day was now too far spent to renew the searches of the day before;
					which I therefore deferred till the next day, when I awoke early, and having
					provided for my subsistence as before, once more visited these solitary ruins.
						<pb n="130" facs="pageImages/130.png"/> Meeting nothing new I endeavoured to
					find my way to the idol; which was not very difficult, as the ruins of the
					buildings continued quite from my first cell to the idol. As I approached nearer
					to it, I found the form of the building to vary much from what I had before
					seen. The rooms or cells here were much larger than the dormitories; and were I
					suppose the apartments, some of which were still entire, which the priests
					inhabited. By all that I could see I concluded that this palace had never been
					raised higher than one story; which might be the reason that it covered so great
					an extent of ground. </p>
				<p>Now, at the distance of about a mile from the place of my abode, as near as I
					could calculate, I came near to the <pb n="131" facs="pageImages/131.png"/>idol;
					and here I suppose the temple began; for I found no more apartments, but the
					remains of a wall, which had <ref target="ancient_" corresp="ancient">antiently</ref>
					<note xml:id="ancient" target="ancient_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">anciently</note>, no doubt, surrounded the
					idol, and left a large area in the middle. In the center stood this idol. Round
					it was an ascent of twenty stone steps. The image itself, of gold, greatly
					exceeded human size: it resembled a man clad in a long robe or vest; which
					reached quite down to the pedestal-stone or foundation on which it stood, and
					lay in folds upon it. This image was girt about the waist as with a girdle, and
					on each breast gathered to a point, fastened as it were, with a button; the neck
					and bosom quite bear like the manner of women; on the head was a curi ously
					wrought crown, and between the two breasts an image of the sun carved <pb n="132" facs="pageImages/132.png"/>in gold, as was all the rest of it. The
					right hand supported the figure of a new moon, and the left held a cluster of
					stars. On the back part of the idol was written in large Indian characters to
					this purpose, THE ORACLE OF THE SUN. I ascended the steps, and threw a stone at
					the image, and found it was hollow. </p>
				<p>Having now pretty well satisfied my curiosity, I began my walk home again. In my
					way thither, as I kept a strait way as nearly as the buildings would admit, I
					struck my foot against something and fell down. I got no hurt; as soon as I was
					up again, I turned round to see at what I had stumbled, and found it to be a
					large iron bar. Upon removing the earth, that covered <pb n="133" facs="pageImages/133.png"/>part of it, I discovered a kind of trapdoor of
					the same metal, of which this was a part, and two strong bolts. I endeavoured,
					with stones, to force the bolts open, but did not effect it without great
					labour, and then with equal difficulty pulled the door up, on the inside of
					which were two other bolts to fasten it within-side. A stone staircase presented
					itself; I went down a few steps; but as they led me under the earth, I found it
					too dark to proceed without a light. But my curiosity was so much excited, that
					I determined to go home, and fetch a light to explore this <ref target="subterraneous cavity_" corresp="subterraneous">subterraneous 
					cavity</ref>
                    <note xml:id="subterraneous" target="subterraneous" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">This passage supports <placeName type="tgn" key="2368737">Gull Island</placeName> as a potential location of the
					novel. The <ref target="https://apnep.nc.gov/documents/files/apes/scoping-study-distribution-composition-and-dynamics-water-column-and-bottom">geologic composition</ref> of the <placeName type="tgn" key="1115016">Pamlico Sound</placeName>, in which it is located, is
					primarily formed of sediment, fine-grained sands, coastal sandstone and
					lagoonal deposits. Elsewhere in the novel, Unca Eliza comments on the abundance
					of rocks that are both liftable and easily breakable. This aligns with the
					composition of Gull Island which is formed of <ref target="https://www.usgs.gov/publications/late-mesozoic-cenozoic-tectonic-aspects-atlantic-coastal-margin">Mesozoic-Cenzoic</ref> strata. (For more
					information see <ref target="https://apnep.nc.gov/our-estuary/albemarle-pamlico-region#Geology-336">Albemarle-Pamlico National Estuary
					Partnership</ref>). It is possible that the island could support
					underground structures, yet the elaborate tunnel systems and "cells" that
					Unca describes may be drawing inspiration from other <ref target="https://www.jstor.org/stable/20719512">"subterranean fiction"</ref> 
					at the time.</note>	For this purpose I brought three shell-lamps and my tinder-box. </p>
				<pb n="134" facs="pageImages/134.png"/>
				<p>As soon as I was got to the bottom of the stairs, and had lost all sight of the
					light above, I sat down one of my lighted lamps; at a further distance I sat
					down another in the same manner, and with a third and my tinder-box, in case the
					light should go out, then proceeded. I made use of these three lights to render
					the passage less terrifying, and that I might be in less danger of being left in
					total darkness. I found this passage very narrow, capable of admitting only one
					person to walk abreast, but high enough to admit a person of more than the
					highest stature. Almost all the way on each side there were a kind of nitches or
					holes. Upon examining them I found they contained a variety of things, all of
					gold, of which I knew not the use, <pb n="135" facs="pageImages/135.png"/>besides a great number of rings, bracelets, lamps, and crowns. An immense
					treasure! a litle further I discovered a kind of room, pretty spacious; in this
					hung up a great many, as I supposed, sacred <ref target="vestments_" corresp="vestments">vestments</ref>
					<note xml:id="vestments" target="vestments_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">priestly robes or garments</note>. These were
					formed of gold wire, or rather of narrow plated gold curiously folded, or
					twisted together like net work. </p>
				<p>I was surprised to find how little they were tarnished; but the place in which
					they hung was very dry, and had very little air. Among these vestments were some
					of more extraordinary workmanship and richness. The largest was, as it were,
					sprinkled over with precious stones, and here and there a large diamond. It
					appeared to be in the same <ref target="fashion_" corresp="fashion">fashion</ref>
					<note xml:id="fashion" target="fashion_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">style</note> with that with which the statue
					of the <pb n="136" facs="pageImages/136.png"/>sun was clothed. By this hung a
					kind of close vest or <ref target="cassock_" corresp="cassock">cassock</ref>
					<note xml:id="cassock" target="cassock_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">tight-fitting tunic</note> of the same make,
					designed I supposed to be worn under the other, with diamond buttons to fasten
					it. Near this was a crown of most exquisite make, richly beset with precious
					stones of various sizes and colours; one on the top particularly large, which
					emitted from all parts of it a light greater than that of my lamp. </p>
				<p>In the same room was a golden staff, or rod, with a small image of the sun on the
					top of it. I supposed these two last vestments might have belonged to the high
					priest; and the staff likewise. In looking over the gold rings, I found one
					which was set round with precious stones, with a very large one in the middle,
					which shone with a lustre equal <pb n="137" facs="pageImages/137.png"/>to that
					on the top of the crown, as I supposed the high-priests wore; this I put on one
					of my fingers, and two of the richest bracelets, beset with precious stones, on
					each of my arms. </p>
				<p>Having sufficiently satisfied my curiosity with looking at treasures that could
					yield me no real service, I walked on a little farther, and found another flight
					of stairs; these I ascended, wondering whither they would lead me. They were
					very narrow and steep; which I soon found, led me up into the image of the sun.
					At last I got quite into the body of it, and my head within the head of it.
					There were holes through the mouth, eyes, nose, and ears of it; so that I could
					distinctly see all over the island before me, of which the <pb n="138" facs="pageImages/138.png"/>height I was at gave me a great <ref target="command_" corresp="command">command</ref>
					<note xml:id="command" target="command_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">power over a surrounding area due to elevated
						or strategic position</note>. I indeed thought I could even behold the sea. </p>
				<p>My astonishment was so great at what I had seen, that I exclaimed aloud, "What
					wonders are here!" As I spoke these words pretty loud, I had scarcely uttered
					them, before I was almost stunned with the sound of my own voice. This image,
					particularly the head of it, it seems, was so wonderfully constructed as to
					<ref target="sound_" corresp="sound">increase the sound of even a low voice to 
					such a degree as to exceed that of the loudest speaker</ref>
					<note xml:id="sound" target="sound_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">This passage sets up the importance of sound and the 
					power it has to make people equal through amplifying their voice to louder volumes. 
					Unca’s surprise at the technical capabilities of the Indigenous people tells the 
					reader not to underestimate them. They were able to develop sophisticated audio 
					technology more advanced than Unca had seen at home. This statue is said to work 
					because it was built using “precious stones,” which amplify sound, making voices 
					reverberate off the surface of the statue and cause them to be louder than normal. 
					To this day there is no known statue that can raise someone’s voice, suggesting 
					Winkfield may have taken inspiration from old technologies such as the so-called 
					"Aztec death whistles" or air-spring whistles, some of which were made of jade (see 
					<ref target="https://www.jstor.org/stable/41700022">Both, "Aztec Music Culture,"
					</ref> 16).</note>: 
					for afterwards saying, in as low a voice as I could, "What a
					knowledge of <ref target="mechanics_" corresp="mechanics">mechanics</ref>
					<note xml:id="mechanics" target="mechanics_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">physical properties or forces</note> must the
						<ref target="ancients_" corresp="ancients">ancients have had!"</ref>
					<note xml:id="ancients" target="ancients_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The use of the word "ancient" here may
						reference an ongoing conversation at that time about the foundations of
						science and discovery, a debate referred to as the battle of the moderns and
						the ancients. On one hand, "moderns" valued empirical observation and
						technological innovation, and in a backlash against these values the
						"ancients" argued for a return to ancient Greek and Roman texts that had
						served as the foundation for scientific knowledge for many centuries. The
						narrator may also be using the word "ancient" as a marker for the ways in
						which this Indigenous technology confounds a Europeanized notion of "ancient
						and modern." See Joseph M. Levine, <hi rend="italic">
                            <ref target="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Battle_of_the_Books/WaJhDwAAQBAJ">The Battle of the Books: History and Literature in the Augustan
								Age</ref>
                        </hi>.</note><!--quote adjustment-->I might, I dare say,
					have been heard as far as the human voice is commonly heard intelligibly.<pb n="139 [page breaks after 'in-']" facs="pageImages/139.png"/> 
					Nothing therefore could be more natural for me to conclude than that this image
					was anciently used to give out oracles: <ref target="hymn_" corresp="hymn">
					I tried to sing an hymn in my usual pitch of voice</ref>
						<note xml:id="hymn" target="hymn_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">This passage explores Unca Eliza's nuanced
						relationship with Protestantism, rooted in her upbringing in the Church of
						England, also known as the Anglican Church. Unca sings a hymn, presumably
						one from her Anglican upbringing, while hiding within a statue that she 
						links to the oracles of classical mythology. Scarlet Bowen's
						article <ref target="https://doi.org/10.3138/ecf.29.4.537">"‘Via
						Media’: Transatlantic Anglicanism in ‘The Female American’"</ref> highlights 
						how transatlantic travel and colonization challenged Anglicanism's doctrinal 
						purity and English identity. Bowen's insights can enhance our understanding 
						of passages like this, which underscore the complexity of Unca's religious 
						background and its intersection with diverse cultural influences.</note>
					; but the sound was too much for my ears to bear; and I was
					obliged to lower my key. </p>
				<p>I now thought it time to descend and go home, lest the night should come on me.
					The extraordinary things that I had seen afforded me a variety of agreeable 
					<ref target="reflections_" corresp="reflections">reflections</ref>
						<note xml:id="reflections" target="reflections_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">thoughts, introspection</note> in my way
					home, and took off from the horror of the gloominess that the approaching
					evening shed around me. Nor did the thought of walking among the remains of the
					dead give me the least terror. Having reached my <ref target="cell_" corresp="cell">cell</ref>
					<note xml:id="cell" target="cell_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">room</note>, and prepared<pb n="140 [page breaks after 'pre-']" facs="pageImages/140.png"/> to take my rest, <ref target="thunder_" corresp="thunder">I was alarmed with a
						loud clap of thunder, I cannot say terrified, for I naturally love to hear it
						thunder</ref>
                    <note xml:id="thunder" target="thunder_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">In "<ref target="https://doi.org/10.4000/episteme.1122">The Impossible Temptation
						of Noise in Late Eighteenth-Century English Music</ref>,” Pierre DuBois
						explores eighteenth-century ideas of “noise” and “music” and the
						different qualities these possess. He draws on Thomas Salmon’s <hi rend="italic">Essay to the Advancement of Music</hi> (1672) and explains how “for
						Salmon, then, the taste for harmony or music was firstly a natural faculty
						granted by God, which you might either have, or be deprived of,” as
						opposed to “noise” which DuBois describes as “not an objective fact or
						reality but something we are forced to react to.” In this part of <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>, Unca seems to perceive the thunder
						as both “noise” and “music,” in that she is “forced to react” to it (being
						alarmed by it), yet senses and addresses musicality in it, as it fills her
						thinking with an admiration for God. This represents the eighteenth-century 
						shift DuBois addresses, from thinking that “music should entirely pertain 
						to the realm of the pleasant, ordered and beautiful” to exploring “theories 
						of the sublime, which encouraged a shift from the object (i.e. music) to 
						the subject (i.e. the listener).”</note>
					; there is something awful and great in it, that always composes my mind,
					raises it above the things of sense, and fills my mind with noble and exalted
					ideas of God; whose presence I think it, as it were, bespeaks. I bow and
					reverence: for though sensible that both it and lightning are the effects of
					natural causes, yet I consider them as under the direction of God and doubt not
					that they are sometimes directed to answer some particular ends of providence. </p>
				<p>Storms of this kind, that sometimes happen in <placeName type="tgn" key="1000003">Europe</placeName>, are by no means to be compared to those in these parts;
						<pb n="141" facs="pageImages/141.png"/>and of the latter fort was that which
					I am now mentioning. The claps of thunder were prodigious loud and long; the
					lightning almost without intermission. I was fearful that the stone room I sat
					in might be thrown down, and therefore went out. </p>
				<p>But what did I behold! Imagination can scarcely conceive such a total darkness as
					then covered the earth; as if every particle of light had been annihilated, and
					primitive <ref target="chaos_" corresp="chaos">chaos</ref>
					<note xml:id="chaos" target="chaos_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">An allusion to the creation narrative in <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=genesis+1">Genesis
							1</ref>; John Milton similarly personifies chaos in <hi rend="italic">Paradise Lost</hi>, <ref target="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45718/paradise-lost-book-1-1674-version">Book 1</ref>.</note> had once more resumed its reign; when in an
					instant the thunder roared, as if the whole earth had been bursting into atoms,
					whilst the lightning showed the air one entire body of liquid fire, and so <ref target="illumined_" corresp="illumined">illumined</ref>
					<note xml:id="illumined" target="illumined_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">illuminated</note> the earth, that I knew not
					which was brighter, that or the air. <pb n="142" facs="pageImages/142.png"/>It
					was too much to bear; I again sought my cell, and there trembling waited the
					dissolution of all things, as I indeed then expected. </p>
				<p>I supposed this dreadful hurricane might continue two hours, when it gradually
					expired, or rather seemed to retire elsewhere, in more low and distant sounds,
					and all was calm as though it had always been so. I soon became composed myself,
					and once more retired to rest. But what a new scene presented itself the next
					morning, when I came out of my habitation to view the effects that the last
					night might have produced! My way was frequently obstructed by trees torn up
					with their roots, and scattered here and there, and the earth in many places
					covered <pb n="143" facs="pageImages/143.png"/>with the bodies of dead birds,
					goats, &amp;c. and the carcasses of other small animals, whose names I knew not.
					But when I approached the sea-shore, the objects were changed; but to such as
					still showed how dreadful the storm had been. The foam, which the <ref target="agitate_" corresp="agitate">agitated</ref>
					<note xml:id="agitate" target="agitate_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">shaken, disturbed</note> sea had thrown on
					the shore, lay in great quantities intermixed with a <ref target="prodigious_" corresp="prodigious">prodigious</ref>
					<note xml:id="prodigious" target="prodigious_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">astonishing or appalling</note> number of
					dead fish; some of an enormous size. Many of the rocks were rent in pieces, and 
					their broken fragments made an horrid appearance. What a subject of speculation 
					here for a philosopher! </p>
				<p>I now turned my steps back to the more inland parts, where I beheld the same
					havock made among the trees, beasts, and birds, but no hurt done <pb n="144" facs="pageImages/144.png"/>to the remains of the palace; which I suppose
					owed its security from the general desolation, to the <ref target="lowness_" corresp="lowness">lowness</ref>
					<note xml:id="lowness" target="lowness_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">shortness or closeness to the ground</note>
					of it. But I must confess I trembled for the statue of the sun, though I knew
					not why; for what was it to me whether it stood or fell? As soon as I came near
					enough, I saw it was safe; and was far from being displeased that it was so. </p>
				<p>I now returned home, and having thoroughly gratified my curiosity in searching
					among the ancient ruins and exploring the contents of them, I spent my time in
					my little domestic concerns, my devotions, and reading the few books that I
					found in my chest. </p>
			</div>

			<div type="chapter" n="9">
				<pb n="145" facs="pageImages/145.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. IX.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Terrified at the annual visitation of the Indians, she intends
						to conceal herself in the subterranean passage; resolves to convert the
						Indians; takes her station in the body of the idol.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">T</hi>HE time now drew pretty near when the Indians were to
					come to pay their annual visit to the idol of the sun. This reflection put me
					upon thinking how I should <ref target="secrete_" corresp="secrete">secrete</ref>
					<note xml:id="secrete" target="secrete_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">secret; hide</note> myself during that day. I
					was indeed informed by the hermit's manuscript, that he contented himself with
					staying within his cell, and forty years had found that precaution sufficient
					for his concealment but still I was afraid to follow his example.<pb n="146 [page breaks after 'ex-']" facs="pageImages/146.png"/>
					Perhaps my being a woman made me more <ref target="timerous_" corresp="timerous">timerous</ref>
					<note xml:id="timerous" target="timerous_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">timorous: fearful</note>. That, thought I,
					which has never happened may possibly arrive, and if prudence teaches us always
					to avail ourselves of the best means in our power, I ought rather to secrete
					myself in the subterraneous passage, a place in which I shall certainly be less
					liable to be found; and certainly unused by the hermit, only because unknown to
					him; for I found no mention of it, and most undoubtedly he would not have passed
					over, in silence, such an extraordinary discovery. The circumstance of the two
					bolts withinside of the iron door, which opened into the passage, confirmed my
					opinion in the fitness of this asylum, as by their means I could fasten myself
					in. </p>

				<pb n="147" facs="pageImages/147.png"/>
				<p>I had no sooner made my fixed determination to retire to this place, but a very
					strange thought arose in my mind. <ref target="idol_" corresp="idol">It was
						nothing less than this, to ascend into the hollow idol</ref>
					<note xml:id="idol" target="idol_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The dual description of the statue as both
						the “Oracle of the Sun” and an idol along with Unca’s decision to enter it
						allows for a sort of apotheosis (elevating her to a status associated with
						the divine). How does the narrative function of this statue compare to the
						monument she asks her relatives to erect for her mother in Windsor?</note>,
					speak to the Indians from thence, and endeavour to convert them from their
					idolatry. A bold attempt! not rashly to be undertaken. I weighed this for
					several days in my mind. As the manner of my education had afforded me an
					opportunity of learning several of the Indian dialects, so as to speak them with
					the utmost ease, I thought it very probable they might speak some one of them;
					and the construction of the image, as before observed, was such, that if they
					came within any tolerable distance of it, I should discover whether I understood
					them or not. <pb n="148" facs="pageImages/148.png"/>If the latter, it would
					remain only for me to be silent; but if I should understand their language, I
					thought the extraordinariness of the event, my speaking to them, would appear
					miraculous, fill them with awe, and prejudice their minds greatly in favour of
					what I should say to them. I further strengthened my resolution with this
					reflection, that an attempt to teach the knowledge of the true God to those who
					know him not, was <ref target="laudable_" corresp="laudable">laudable</ref>
					<note xml:id="laudable" target="laudable_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">praiseworthy</note>, and might not want a
					providential sanction. As to the human means, I knew I was tolerably well
					principled in the theory of religion, by my uncle's great care, as already
					mentioned. </p>
				<p>With respect to the Indians, I very well knew that they are generally of <pb n="149" facs="pageImages/149.png"/>a docile disposition, and that if you
					once convince them that your intentions towards them are friendly, no people are
					more grateful; nor are there any in whom you can, safely, place a greater
					confidence. Again I considered, that if I should hereafter judge it prudent to
					discover myself to them, and to go and live among them, that my <ref target="tawny_" corresp="tawny">tawny</ref>
					<note xml:id="tawny" target="tawny_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">brown-yellow in color, tan</note> complexion would be some recommendation.
					Supposing all this should take place, I thought that though it might not open a
					way to my return to <placeName type="tgn" key="1000003">Europe</placeName>, yet
					it might to my living a much happier life, and give me an opportunity of doing
					abundantly more good, than I had the least reason to think I should ever effect
					during the whole course of my life. The more I considered the affair, the more resolute
						<pb n="150 [page breaks after 'reso-']" facs="pageImages/150.png"/>
					I became to undertake it. However, I was determined to give it a very deliberate
					consideration. Nay, I even made it the subject of my prayers, that if I might
					become an instrument to promote the knowledge and glory of God, and the
					salvation and happiness of any of his creatures, I might have his blessing on my
					endeavours. Surely this was not superstition in one who believes in a particular
					providence! And of this persuasion shall no man rob me! Certainly he who would
					divide the belief of a particular providence from religion, destroys that which
					he should retain. He takes from man that hope which only can support him under
					the vicissitudes and cares of this life. Let a man be thoroughly persuaded that
					he is not the <pb n="151 [word 'the' repeats in original]" facs="pageImages/151.png"/>the subject of divine care, what can support him
					in the hour of affliction? What can prevent him from seeking <ref target="relief_" corresp="relief">relief</ref>
					<note xml:id="relief" target="relief_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">deliverance from distress</note> from the
					pistol, or the dagger? </p>
				<p>But leaving these reflections to those who are so happy as to think, I return to
					my history. I reflected that as there were several holes, or openings in the
					image, I might possibly be seen through them by the Indians, before I might have
					leisure to judge whether I should address myself to them or not; which might be
					attended with unforeseen consequences, to my great disadvantage. To come to a
						<ref target="certainty_" corresp="certainty">certainty</ref>
					<note xml:id="certainty" target="certainty_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">decision</note> as to this material point, I
					proceeded in this manner: I took one of my gowns, and carried it into the
					statue, and with other things so stuffed it out, as <pb n="152" facs="pageImages/152.png"/>to make it fast within the idol, and to cover all
					the holes. I then went out upon the island, and carefully surveyed the statue
					round, and found, to my great satisfaction, that the several perforations grew
					narrower as they approached the interior part of the statue, and were so deep
					that they cast a shadow within themselves, so that upon the nearest approach it
					was impossible to see into it, without there had been a light within-side;
					however, at least, I could not distinguish my gown; and the statue was too high
					for any person to bring his eyes, or even his hands, near to the openings. But
					for fear this deception might be owing to the gown's covering the holes more
					closely than my body could, I took it away, and once more went out to make a <pb n="153" facs="pageImages/153.png"/>second observation, and had still the
					pleasure to find it was impossible to see into the statue at all. </p>
				<p>Though this danger was entirely removed, there still remained another. I had
					discovered, as the reader may remember, that such was the wonderful <ref target="mechanism_" corresp="mechanism">mechanism of this statue, that the
						least sound became very audible</ref>
					<note xml:id="mechanism" target="mechanism_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Devices capable of amplifying the voice of
						the operator’s voice are mentioned by other works at the time that deal with
						themes of colonialism and science. Most notably, Aphra Behn’s play <ref target="https://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/behn/emperor/emperor.html">The Emperor of the Moon</ref> (1688) and Margaret Cavendish’s <ref target="http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/newcastle/blazing/blazing.html">Blazing World</ref> (1668). Both Cavendish and Behn express interest in
						exploring the gendered nature of science and knowledge-finding enterprises
						like colonialism, and may represent a tradition that Winkfield is taking up
						in exploring the ways that technologies of sound have the potential to allow
						an operator to exercise power over other people who typically may not have
						listened to them.</note>. The noise I might make then at getting into it
					might instantly discover me; for it was reasonable to suppose, that the
					visitants would come as near to their idol as they could; no doubt ascend the
					very steps leading up to it, and being thus near must needs hear the least
					noise. </p>
				<p>Alarming as this consideration was, it soon subsided. For to avoid the
					possibility of this event, I determined <pb n="154" facs="pageImages/154.png"/>to place myself in it before their arrival, and to sit perfectly still till
					their departure, if I should see occasion; or till I spoke, if I should find it
					proper so to do. The image was very well contrived to favour my purpose; there
					was in it a convenient seat, and sure footing for my feet; and which also
					luckily suited my stature, so that when I sat, my face was directly upon a level
					with the holes; by which means I could, without changing my posture, see every
					thing that was to be seen through them. Looking in my <ref target="almanack_" corresp="almanack">Almanack</ref>
					<note xml:id="almanack" target="almanack_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The narrator uses an almanac as a form of
						technology here to predict the conditions under which she will meet the
						natives. The almanac is a tool that mixes empirical observation with the
						slightly mystical intention of predicting the weather in the future–the mix
						of the empirical and the mystical is an apt characterization of the state of
						science in the era.</note> I found that the night preceding the Thursday on
					which the Indians were to come, was the time of fullmoon; and that, therefore,
					they, very probably, would take the advantage of it to set out in the night, to
					be on <pb n="155" facs="pageImages/155.png"/>the island early in the morning.
					Nor was my conjecture wrong, as the event proved. I thought, therefore, it would
					be prudent in me to take up my residence early in the evening. </p>
				<p>There were now but three days to come before their arrival, during which, I
					changed my mind, perhaps, as many times as there are hours in that space. This
					moment I imagined hundreds of Indians prostrate before me with reverence and
					attention, whilst like a lawgiver, I uttered precepts, and, like an orator,
					inculcated them with a voice magnified almost to the loudness of thunder. At
					another time my soul shrunk within me at the imagined noise of their dreadful
					yell; whilst my imagination painted to me an enraged <pb n="156" facs="pageImages/156.png"/>multitude tearing down, in their fury, branches
					of trees with which to surround the statue, and to burn me in it. </p>
				<p>As one, or other of these thoughts prevailed, I resolved for or against, the
					undertaking. At last, with more than <ref target="female_" corresp="female">female</ref>
					<note xml:id="female" target="female_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">"Female" is used here as an adjective to mean
						weak or feeble.</note> resolution, I determined on the attempt, and from
					that moment <ref target="fortified_" corresp="fortified">fortified my mind, and 
					checked every rising fear</ref>
						<note xml:id="fortified" target="fortified_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">In his <hi rend="italic">
						English Dictionary</hi> (1773), <persName type="lcnaf" key="n78095825">Samuel 
						Johnson (1709-1784)</persName> 
						<ref target="https://johnsonsdictionaryonline.com/views/search.php?term=hero">
						defines “Hero” as “A man eminent for bravery.”</ref>. Through checking her fear, 
						Unca Eliza proves her ability to occupy the status of heroine as a female 
						“eminent for bravery”. Johnson uses this existing definition of the hero to 
						then <ref target="https://johnsonsdictionaryonline.com/views/search.php?term=heroine">
						define “Heroine” as “a female hero</ref>.”  Alongside his definition, Johnson 
						includes an excerpt from <persName type="lcnaf" key="n79006406">John Dryden
						</persName>’s <hi rend="italic">Fables Ancient and Modern</hi> 
						(1700): “The heroine assum’d the woman’s place, Confirm’d her mind, and 
						fortify’d her face.” Unca Eliza’s claim to “fortify her mind” instead of her 
						face effectively reverses Dryden’s idea of the heroine, which focuses on the 
						heroine’s physical features. In this phrase, Unca Eliza not only claims the 
						status of “heroine” but	also pushes the heroine to a more complex state that is 
						not merely focused on the physical.</note>. 
					This was on the morning of the preceding day of their coming. 
					Out of the few clothes which I had, I chose those which I thought would make the 
					least rustling, and were the least bulky. I thought one shell-lamp would be 
					sufficient, and that I would put that out, when I came to the foot of the statue, 
					as I should take my tinder-boxwith 
					<pb n="157" facs="pageImages/157.png"/> me. As I intended to get into the
					statue at night, and knew not how many hours I might be obliged to continue
					there the next day, I put a few roots into my pocket, and as I had nothing but
					shells to take any water in with me, and was afraid I might drop them, and make
					a noise, I contented myself with some <ref target="limes_" corresp="limes">ripe
						limes</ref>
					<note xml:id="limes" target="limes" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">All citrus, limes included, are Old World
						foods. The Spanish began cultivating citrus in what is now Florida in the
						16th century, and citrus growing reached modern Louisiana by the early
						1700s. The presence of limes necessitates that Winkfield’s island is at
						least as far south as Florida. This is also an example of Robinsonade
						narratives often projecting Edenic qualities onto their respective islands
						through food, despite them being sites of captivity. See David Karp, "<ref target="https://www.oxfordreference.com/display/10.1093/acref/9780199734962.001.0001/acref-9780199734962-e-0178">Citrus</ref>," in <hi rend="italic">The Oxford Encyclopedia of Food and
							Drink in America</hi>.</note> and other moist fruits, of which there was
					plenty on the island. When the evening came on, having first performed some
					particular <ref target="devotions_" corresp="devotions">devotions</ref>
					<note xml:id="devotions" target="devotions_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">prayers</note> on the occasion, I set out,
					and as soon as I had got low enough down the stairs, I fastened the two bolts of
					the door after me. I should have observed that before I set out, I concealed
					every thing I had up and down in holes, which I covered up close with stones, so
					as nothing <pb n="158" facs="pageImages/158.png"/>could be perceived, that in
					case any of the Indians should chance to wander into my apartments, they should
					discover nothing that might prompt them to suppose that any human creature
					inhabited them. </p>
				<p>When I came to the foot of the statue I pulled off my shoes, and left them there,
					that I might not make any noise with them in changing my possture as I sat.
					Though my situation was dark within, yet as the moon shone very bright, I had a
					very agreeable <ref target="prospect_" corresp="prospect">prospect</ref>
					<note xml:id="prospect" target="prospect_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">view</note> of the island. My mind was too
					busy to suffer me to sleep; the expectation of the events of the coming day
					engrossed all my thoughts. I hoped, I feared, I trembled, I prayed. For a moment
					I resolved to descend, 
					<pb n="159" facs="pageImages/159.png"/>and give up the enterprize; again, much 
					courage revived, <ref target="heroine_" corresp="heroine">and I was a heroine.</ref>
					<note xml:id="heroine" target="heroine_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The eighteenth-century heroine was a concept emerging 
					as distinctly different from existing notions of the hero in eighteenth century 
					literature. <ref target="https://digitalcommons.murraystate.edu/honorstheses/149">
					Grace Gibson highlights</ref> the hero’s goals as “attaining honor and social 
					ascension” in contrast with the heroine who “focuses on acquiring the security and 
					comfort found in the institution of marriage” (4). These goals position the hero 
					and heroine as characters in progress. However, where the hero’s progress is 
					external, including winning honor or social ascension in the world around him, the 
					heroine’s journey is an internal process focused on becoming eligible for marriage. 
					This reveals the heroine as a character more elemental than the hero, still in 
					need of personal development. <ref target="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/455866/pdf">
					April Alliston writes</ref> that the female character “may not be what it seems, 
					and therefore requires a narrative process, or trial, to unfold its truth” (257). 
					Unca Eliza’s position as heroine of <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi> 
					necessitates personal development in order to achieve marriage. Yet by claiming the 
					title of "heroine" before marriage here, she reimagines female heroism outside the 
					expectations of eighteenth-century literature.</note>
					The consciousness of the purity of my intention, and the goodness of my design, 
					prevailed over every other thought, and I became calm and determined. Whilst I thus 
					sat waiting for the arrival of the Indians, and observing the signs of approaching 
					day, a sudden clap of thunder broke just over my head; the introduction to a more
					violent hurricane than that which I had lately seen. This was accompanied with
					an <ref target="earthquake_" corresp="earthquake">earthquake</ref>
                    <note xml:id="earthquake" target="earthquake_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">This detail may offer evidence that the
					author of <hi rend="italics">The Female American</hi> was unfamiliar 
					with the location in which the novel is set. The likely location of Unca’s island, 
					the <placeName type="tgn" key="1115016">Pamlico Sound</placeName>, is not
					situated on any major fault lines or seismic hotspots. The <ref target="https://www.deq.nc.gov/about/divisions/energy-mineral-and-land-resources/north-carolina-geological-survey/geologic-hazards/earthquakes-north-carolina">North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality</ref>
					has no evidence of an earthquake on the sound from 1698, when seismic
					activity first began to be recorded in the region. It is unlikely that an
					earthquake originating in the nearest hotspot (current-day <placeName type="tgn" key="7013582">Charleston, South Carolina</placeName>) or oceanic
					tremors originating farther out in the Atlantic would cause the level of
					damage Unca describes. A destructive storm in this area would more likely
					be a hurricane or tropical cyclone caused by the convergence of four
					different <ref target="https://climate.ncsu.edu/blog/2022/07/our-curious-coast-the-ocean-and-coastline/">ocean currents</ref>. Eastern North
					Carolina is set out farther into the Atlantic than surrounding coastal
					areas, making it particularly vulnerable to coastal storms.</note> 
					that shook the whole island, and I expected every moment that I
					should be swallowed up, or, at the best, that the statue would be overturned
					with myself in it. I now trembled indeed, and all my courage failed. The storm
					still continuing, I <pb n="160" facs="pageImages/160.png"/>at last, made shift
					to descend the stairs, and being arrived in the passage, I sat down on the
					ground, unable to go far into it. </p>
				<p>It was darkness all around me, and I could not find my lamp and tinderbox. The
					earthquake still continued, as I perceived by the motion of the ground beneath
					me. I thought it could not be long before I should be buried alive in the earth;
					and therefore, as well as my disturbed spirits would permit, <ref target="recommended_" corresp="recommended">recommended</ref>
					<note xml:id="recommended" target="recommended_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">committed</note> myself into the hands of
					God. </p>
			</div>

			<div type="chapter" n="10">

				<pb n="161" facs="pageImages/161.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. X.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Finds herself unable to get out of the idol; after despairing
						of <ref target="extricating_" corresp="extricating">extricating</ref>
						<note xml:id="extricating" target="extricating_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">freeing</note> herself, forces open the
						passage; and perceives the earthquake had destroyed her habitation.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">I</hi>N this melancholy situation did I continue for some
					hours, when I supposed the earthquake was over; for I no longer felt the motion
					of it. But the thunder still continued, yet with less violence, and the claps
					were not so frequent. I got up, and once more ascended into the image, saw no
					appearance of the Indians, and supposed that they would not be able to come at
					all at that time. Whilst I sat here, I <pb n="162" facs="pageImages/162.png"/>perceived the earth to shake again, and I once more descended into the
					passage, determined at all events to get out of it, and, if possible, once more,
					to gain my cell; for I shuddered at the thoughts of being buried alive where I
					was, which I had but too much reason to fear. I even got over the fear of the
					Indians coming, and discovering of me, with the hopes that my complexion and the
					advantage of speaking their language, which I little feared but I should
					understand, would recommend me to their favour. And with respect to the storm, I
					might possibly escape without any hurt; and at the worst, I thought it would be
					better to die by a blast of lightning, or by the stroke of thunder, than to be
					buried <pb n="163" facs="pageImages/163.png"/>alive in the earth, and very
					likely be several days in dying. </p>
				<p>I should have been glad to have found my lamp; but as I could not, I groped my
					way as well as I could to the stairs, which led up to the trapdoor, which,
					having reached, I endeavoured to unbolt; but as the bolts were large and very
					rusty, they gave me a great deal of trouble and much pain, forced the skin off
					my hands, and made them very sore and bloody. At last they both gave back, when
					I pushed the door upwards; but what was my terror at finding it would not give
					way! I was persuaded that I had unbolted it; and therefore concluded, in my
					mind, that the earthquake had overturned some of the earth above, <pb n="164" facs="pageImages/164.png"/>and covered it over. It is impossible to describe
					the agony of my mind; I concluded myself lost, that I was entombed alive, and
					that I should miserably perish with hunger and thirst. Fear added strength, and
					I again and again made the utmost efforts to raise the door up, but in vain; I
					did but increase my pain, and exhaust my strength, till I was unable to make a
					farther trial. </p>
				<p>How dreadful my situation! no other prospect before me but that of a certain
					lingering death! I sat a long time on the stairs in the most melancholy
					condition. I endeavoured to pray, but could not; at last I did, when, a little
					more composed, I got up to look at that light which I never expected to <pb n="165" facs="pageImages/165.png"/>enjoy again with an open freedom. I was
					satisfied as I crept along, that the earthquake was over. When I was got into
					the statue, I found that the thunder and lightning still continued. What would I
					not have given in that moment, to have been exposed to its utmost violence! I
					most ardently wished for the coming of the Indians, who happily might prove the
					instruments of my deliverance. But this was rather the wish of despair than a
					probable event; for how should they know where to find the door, supposing them
					present and disposed to seek it? Tired with sitting here, or rather with my own
					tormenting thoughts, I once more, I knew not why, descended into the passage;
					but what comfort was I to find there? As I got to the bottom <pb n="166" facs="pageImages/166.png"/>of the stairs my foot struck against something,
					which, upon feeling, I found to be my tinder-box, and by it my lamp. A secret
					joy spread through my heart. This I instantly checked with this reflection, What
					comfort, said I to myself, can light afford to such a wretch as I am, doomed to
					perish in this place? I now <ref target="upbraided_" corresp="upbraided">upbraided</ref>
					<note xml:id="upbraided" target="upbraided_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">reproached</note> myself with my own <ref target="folly_" corresp="folly">folly</ref>
					<note xml:id="folly" target="folly_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">unwise conduct</note>. Why did I undertake this rash, hazardous enterprize?
					Could the poor hermit content himself forty years in his lonely cell, and was I
					so soon weary of it? <ref target="divine_" corresp="divine">All the favours of 
					providence are now lost upon me</ref>
                    <note xml:id="divine" target="divine_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">For Unca Eliza, the notion of 
					providence serves as the explanatory foundation for understanding the 
					workings of nature. Her insistence on the supremacy of divine
					intervention also mirrors the colonizers' attempts to assert control. Compare
					this to Daniel Defoe's <hi rend="italic">Robinson Crusoe</hi>, when 
					the titular character is "<ref target="https://anthology.lib.virginia.edu/work/Defoe/defoe-crusoe#PD1487N1l5l5l2l229">
					wrapt up in the Contemplation of [his] Deliverance</ref>" after surviving a 
					shipwreck. Crusoe views his survival as divine providence granted in exchange for 
					increased piety. Both characters’ survival becomes a catalyst for recommitting 
					to their faith, with Unca Eliza intensifying her efforts to impose her 
					religious views on the Indigenous people of the island.</note>. I might
					have lived with some degree of comfort, but now must perish miserably. I have by
					my rashness sinned against the mercy of heaven, and now must die without it. </p>

				<pb n="167" facs="pageImages/167.png"/>
				<p>Thus did I indulge the severest reflections on my own conduct. At last I thought
					I would once more look at my prison-door, but with no hopes of escape. For this
					purpose I struck fire, and lighted my lamp, and having reached the door, I
					carefully examined the bolts, which I thought I discovered to be not quite drawn
					back; this gave me a little hope. I tried one of them with much pain, for my
					hands were very sore, and at last it gave back a little; now my hopes were quite
					revived, and gave me fresh strength to attempt the other, and was again
					successful, and so happy as to raise the door up. Thus had my mistake procured
					all this uneasiness to me; and how many of our miseries do often flow from our
					mistakes? I <pb n="168" facs="pageImages/168.png"/>now once more beheld the open
					air in freedom, if such can be said of one who was confined in a small island
					bounded by the sea. I thanked God for my deliverance, and as the day was
					declining, I intended to make haste to my cell, but found fresh ruins to
					interrupt my way. Those remains of the palace which I left standing but the day
					before, were now thrown down; not one had escaped the violence of the
					earthquake, not even excepting the cell I inhabited. I had reason, indeed, to be
					very thankful for my confinement in the subterraneous passage, to which, in all
					probability, I owed my not having perished in my cell. But one misfortune I
					still sustained, the want of an apartment above ground. </p>

				<pb n="169" facs="pageImages/169.png"/>
				<p>The thoughts of living under-ground were very disagreeable; but no better
					habitation remained for me. It was well for me, that I had the precaution to
					remove my few effects out of my cell, which by the fall of it might have been
					destroyed, but which I found safe where I had deposited them. I took some
					provisions, and some more lamps and fat, in order to render my dark abode as
					light as I could, and with an heavy heart returned back to the place I had left
					but a little while before, not thinking I should ever have made it the voluntary
					place of my residence, if indeed I may say voluntary; for it was necessity, not
					a free choice, that led me thither. Having entered by the door and fastened it,
					I lighted five other lamps, with that I carried in my hand ready lighted, but
						<pb n="170" facs="pageImages/170.png"/>these were not sufficient to take off
					the gloominess of the place. I had no better lodging than the bare ground; for
					it was too late to furnish myself with leaves. </p>
				<p>A melancholy situation this! and scarcely was I able to bear it; but I summoned
					every thing that could give me comfort, or inspire me with fortitude. Among
					other things I considered that it was in every respect better than being on the
					ground above, exposed to the air and other accidents; that here, at least, was a
					safe retreat; that my distress was neither owing to my own sin or folly; and
					that, above all, no place is excluded from the presence of God; that his
					providential eye was still watching over me, and <pb n="171" facs="pageImages/171.png"/>that I was under his protection. Having taken
					some refreshment, which I greatly needed, and said my prayers, I laid me down in
					one of the apartments here, already mentioned, with all my lamps burning, and,
					being tolerably composed in my mind, and very weary and heavy, having had no
					rest the night before, I fell fast asleep. </p>
			</div>

			<div type="chapter" n="11">

				<pb n="172" facs="pageImages/172.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. XI.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">The Indians land, and approach the idol; the high-priest
						interrogates the statue, from which she makes responses, and instructs them
						in the principles of the Christian religion.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">A</hi>S soon as I awoke I got up, and finding two of my lamps
					yet burning, I took one of them, walked to the stairs that led up to the statue,
					which I ascended, and found the sun had been risen some time, and that it was a
					very fine calm morning. I had not been here long before I heard a prodigious
					noise of voices, when looking forwards, I discovered a great number of Indians
					approaching, at some distance. <pb n="173 [page breaks after 'dis-']" facs="pageImages/173.png"/>The noise and sight of them. startled
					me at first; but recovering myself from the surprize, my former intention of
					speaking to them revived, and I was the more confirmed in my resolution to do so
					from a consideration of the almost impossibility of living long under ground.
					Therefore first commending myself to God, and my intention, I waited for a
					favourable opportunity; in the mean time sitting as still as possible. </p>
				<p>There was a great number of them, men, women, and children, who as they drew
					nearer formed themselves, as it were, into ranks, the oldest men first, then the
					younger, after there the eldest women, and the youngest ; lastly the <pb n="174" facs="pageImages/174.png"/> children, (no infants) boys and girls, the last
					of which brought up the rear. But I should have observed that the whole body of
					them was preceded by six old men, their priests, with a very old man at their
					head, so feeble with age that he was supported by two others. As soon as they
					had formed themselves in this manner, they came on very slowly, and with a
					profound silence. This slow march greatly favoured me, and gave me time to be
					thoroughly composed and fortified. I supposed their reasons were partly
					reverence, and partly to savour their ancient feeble high-priest; for such he
					was to the sun. Each of the priests had a small golden image suspended at his
					breast, and a golden coronet. The high priest the same, only that his coronet
					was much larger; <pb n="175" facs="pageImages/175.png"/>he had besides a long
					staff in his right hand, with an image of the sun upon the top of it, also of
					gold. </p>
				<p>Having approached within a few yards of the statue, they all stopt; when the high
					priest, and the six others, with the whole assembly, very devoutly <ref target="prostrated_" corresp="prostrated">prostrated</ref>
					<note xml:id="prostrated" target="prostrated" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">To prostrate oneself is to fall forward with
						face downward, in an act of reverence.</note> themselves to the earth three
					times: all of them continued prostrate on the ground, except the six priests,
					who each kneeled on both his knees, whilst the high-priest kneeled only upon
					one. The high priest then begun to sing a kind of hymn, in praise of the sun, as
					God, joined soon after by the priests, and, lastly, as in a chorus, by the whole
					assembly. The sound of their voices was so increased by the <pb n="176" facs="pageImages/176.png"/>make of the statue, that I was hardly able to
					bear it. </p>
				<p>I still kept silence; not thinking it as yet a proper time to interrupt them.
					When this part of their worship was over, they all stood, and the high-priest
					made an address to the sun, in a very low feeble voice, which yet I could hear
					very plainly, and to my great joy and encouragement, perfectly understood. The
						<ref target="purport_" corresp="purport">purport</ref>
					<note xml:id="purport" target="purport_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">meaning or intent</note> of it was to
					acknowledge him as the author of all things, the support of all, and the giver
					of all things, with praises naturally resulting from such acknowledgments. Then
					each of the priests, in his turn, offered up a kind of prayer for long life,
					health, success in hunting and fishing, &amp;c. The address of the high-priest
						<pb n="177" facs="pageImages/177.png"/>was truly great and elevated, and a
					pleasing simplicity and a fervency of devotion ran through the prayers of the
					priests, which they delivered very distinctly and audibly. When the priests had
					finished their parts, the whole assembly, which had hitherto observed a profound
					silence, except in the chorus, begun theirs. A confused disharmonious noised
					ensued; for each had a <ref target="petition_" corresp="petition">petition</ref>
					<note xml:id="petition" target="petition_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">entreaty or prayer</note> to offer up, whilst
						<ref target="Baal_" corresp="Baal">like the priests of Baal, they cried as
						loud as they could</ref>
					<note xml:id="Baal" target="Baal_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">A comical allusion to <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+kings+18&amp;version=KJV">1 Kings 18</ref>. The prophet Elijah and the prophets of Baal—a broad
						term for Mesopotamian deities, referring here to a solar deity—hold a
						competition to prove whose god is real. They both prepare altars and pray
						for their gods to send fire. As the prophets of Baal shout to their god with
						no response, Elijah mocks that Baal must be preoccupied in conversation,
						relieving his bowels, or sleeping (<ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+kings+18.27&amp;version=KJV">18.27</ref>). When their cries cease, Elijah orders for his altar to be
						soaked with water three times and offers a prayer. His altar is consumed by
						fire.</note>, as if their God was a great way off, 
						<ref target="deaf_" corresp="deaf">or deaf, and could not hear them.</ref>
						<note xml:id="deaf" target="deaf_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Unca dismisses the power of the Native people’s 
						God by suggesting that it is deaf. This suggestion of deafness is prominent 
						in several eighteenth-century texts, like <persName type="lcnaf" key="n79053974">Daniel Defoe</persName>’s (1660-1731) 
						<ref target="https://anthology.lib.virginia.edu/work/Defoe/defoe-crusoe">
						<hi rend="italic">Robinson Crusoe</hi>
                        </ref> (1719), which contrasts loudness 
						as power with deafness as limitation. This limitation in <hi rend="italic">
						Crusoe</hi> is explored further in <persName type="lcnaf" key="n2019019882">
						Jason Farr</persName>’s article, <ref target="https://utpjournals.press/doi/10.3138/ecf.29.4.537">“Colonizing Gestures: 
						Crusoe, the Signing Sovereign”</ref>. Farr examines the metaphors of “obstinate 
						deafness” and suggests that Crusoe’s refusal to “listen to wisdom of his 
						father” is framed as a sin. Similarly, Winkfield represents the Native people’s 
						God as auditorily impaired to suggest spiritual disconnection. This initial 
						impairment can then be used to emphasize the responsiveness and power of Unca's 
						Christian God 
						<ref target="https://anthology.lib.virginia.edu/work/Winkfield/winkfield-female-american#PD1330N2l5l4l12l22">
						as she is guided by him and her uncle’s teachings</ref>.</note>
						In these supplications even the children bore a part. </p>
				<p>And now the high-priest begun again, but in a very different manner than before,
					who stood, as did the rest, and <pb n="178" facs="pageImages/178.png"/>very
					pathetically lamented the long silence of the oracle, and, in a kind of agony,
					intreated that answers might be again given to them. He ceased at times, when
					each of the other priests, in his turn, continued the same complaint, and the
					same intreaties. Every time that one of the priests stopped, the whole company
					made great lamentations, attended with most dreadful yells. The seven priests
					having finished this last part, a general and profound silence ensued. </p>
				<p>I now was preparing to speak, thinking I could not have a better opportunity,
					when the high-priest gave me a much fairer occasion; for, raising his voice,
					seemingly, as loud <pb n="179" facs="pageImages/179.png"/>as he could, he cried,
					or asked, in a kind of exultation,</p>
				<p>WHO IS GOD BUT THE SUN? </p>
				<!--I think that these quotes, since they are offset from the rest of the text should us <q>? -->
				<p>To whom <ref target="oral_" corresp="oral">I immediately replied, in so very loud, 
				yet equally distinct, a voice</ref>
                    <note xml:id="oral" target="oral_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Unca’s voice, as she speaks to the crowd of Native 
				people, mimics that of a preacher’s retellings of religious texts. However, to an 
				eighteenth-century British audience, the authority of oral testimonies was heavily 
				dependent on the sex of the informant. Women's oral retellings were strongly associated 
				with "old wives' tales." <persName type="lcnaf" key="n97108994">Paula McDowell
				</persName> suggests in <ref target="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/I/bo25956684.html">
                            <hi rend="italic">
				The Invention of the Oral</hi>
                        </ref> that early Christian authors warned against “old 
				wives' tales” as “religious beliefs that hampered Enlightenment rational thought” (50). 
				Winkfield minimizes the unbelievability of women's oral presentation by emphasizing 
				Unca Eliza’s religious authority. Volume is a sign of power: her voice is "very loud, 
				yet equally distinct" with that of the high-priest. While she is unknown to these 
				people, she asserts herself orally as spiritually powerful.</note>
					, that it ecchoed back again from the end of the island,</p>
				<p>HE WHO MADE THE SUN. </p>
				<p>I must acknowledge I trembled when I had done, and was even sorry I had spoken,
					though truly and properly; yet I rightly concluded that I must proceed--No
					sooner had I uttered there words, but the lay-assembly leaped up from the
					ground, as if <ref target="frantick_" corresp="frantick">frantick</ref>
					<note xml:id="frantick" target="frantick_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">affected by wild excitement, frantic</note>
					with joy, and with loud shouts, and strange gestures, expressed<pb n="180 [page breaks after 'expres-']" facs="pageImages/180.png"/> 
					the transports they felt, and then all fell prostrate, whilst the priests, with
					more decency and gravity, profoundly bowed their bodies, three times, to the
					very earth. </p>
				<p>And now <ref target="dialogue_" corresp="dialogue">the following dialogue
						commenced between the high-priest and me</ref>
					<note xml:id="dialogue" target="dialogue_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The following passage’s theological exchange
						in the format of questions and answers mirrors Martin Luther's <hi rend="italic">Small Catechism</hi> (1529). The idea that all doctrine
						must be justified by scripture, or else rejected, was a founding tenet of
						Lutheran Protestantism. The Church of England adopted a similar format in
						the <hi rend="italic">Westminster Shorter Catechism</hi> (1647), which
						provides short answers to theological questions.<lb/>The scene is similar to
							<ref target="https://anthology.lib.virginia.edu/work/Defoe/defoe-crusoe">Robinson Crusoe</ref>'s attempt to instruct Friday in his faith. While
						Crusoe offers general Christian answers to Friday’s questions, Unca Eliza
						responds to the Indigenous people’s questions with scripture she has
						memorized.</note>, the people observing the whole time a solemn silence. </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi>
					<ref target="Moses_" corresp="Moses">"Who then is that God?"</ref>
					<note xml:id="Moses" target="Moses_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Perhaps a satirical recapitulation of Moses’
						conversation with a burning bush inhabited by God (<ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=exodus+3&amp;version=KJV">Exodus 3</ref>). When Moses asks God’s name, the response given in the
						Hebrew is often translated as “I am who I am,” which evokes a sense of
						timelessness that is expressed in its Greek variation as the passage Unca
						Eliza references: “I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith
						the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come” (<ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=revelation+1%3A8&amp;version=KJV">Revelation 1.18</ref>).</note>
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "He who always was, is, and ever
					willl<!--typo "willl" is in the original--> be."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Where does he dwell?" </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "In heaven, though indeed he is present every
					where; for <pb n="181" facs="pageImages/181.png"/> he filleth heaven and earth
					with his presence--He sees all things; knows all things; for he made all things,
					and supports all things, by his power, which is boundless."
					<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Can we see him?" </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "No; for no man can see God whilst he
					lives."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Shall we then see him after we are
					dead?"<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "Yes; all good men shall see him, and be happy
					with him; but every wicked man will be banished from his presence, and be
					miserable."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>

				<pb n="182" facs="pageImages/182.png"/>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Who is a good man?"<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "He who believes in God, who loves and obeys him,
					and does by every man as he would be done by."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Who is a wicked
					man?"<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "He who does not believe in God, love, and obey
					him; and he who does not do by every one as he would be done
					by."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>Here after a short silence, he continued his questions. </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Are you God?" </p>

				<pb n="183" facs="pageImages/183.png"/>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "No." </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Are you the sun?" </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "No; for the sun can neither understand, nor see,
					nor hear, as I do."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Who are you then?" </p>
				<p>Though I did not mean to impose myself upon them as God, and had declared I was
					not God, yet I thought it necessary to check this question, judging it as yet
					too soon to declare myself, and therefore replied, </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "Do not ask; for I will not answer to any
					questions but as I see proper."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>

				<pb n="184" facs="pageImages/184.png"/>
				<p>At this instant our dialogue was strangely stopt, and I was greatly surprized to
					see the whole assembly throw themselves upon the ground, tear, and beat
					themselves, venting their grief in cries and unintelligible accents, the priests
					behaving as madly as they. Whilst I beheld this extraordinary change with a
					concern and surprize that prevented my speaking to them, they all ran away,
					except the highpriest, who was too feeble, as fast as they could towards the
					sea-side. </p>
				<p>For my own part my ideas were so confused upon this occasion, that I was
					incapable of thought. What have I said, at last cried I, within myself, that
					could thus terrify these people? I paused, and as my custom is on all sudden and
						<pb n="185" facs="pageImages/185.png"/> extraordinary events, endeavoured to
					withdraw my attention from all outward things, and recollect my mind within me;
					and now happily I guessed the cause, as the event proved. I had told them I was
					neither the God I had described, nor <ref target="worship_" corresp="worship">the sun, whom they believed to be God</ref>
                    <note xml:id="worship" target="worship_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">This 
					representation of the Indigenous people's religious customs echoes numerous early 
					colonial accounts depicting the Native peoples of Virginia worshipping the sun. 
					Works such as <persName type="lcnaf" key="n50026495">Thomas Harriot</persName>'s 
					<ref target="https://archive.org/details/briefetruereport00harr/mode/2up?q=sunne">
                            <hi rend="italic">A Briefe and True Report of the New Found Land of Virginia
					</hi>
                        </ref> (1590) and 
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="n9626183">George Percy</persName>'s 
					<ref target="https://archive.org/details/foundingjamesto00hartgoog">
					<hi rend="italic">Observations Gathered out of a Discourse of the Plantation of the 
					Southerne Colonie in Virginia</hi>
                        </ref> (1625) depicts the Indigenous tribes of 
					Virginia worshipping the sun. Percy’s account of the Native peoples he encounters 
					more closely resembles the religious beliefs of the "Indians" Unca Eliza meets in 
					<hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>, as both groups appear solely to worship 
					the sun, whereash Harriot’s account mentions the existence of the moon and stars as 
					additional gods.</note>, and
					yet refused to inform them who I was; yet I must have appeared to them to be
					more than a mere mortal, and recollecting that it was an opinion, common among
					the untaught Indians, to believe that there are two beings, the one good and the
					other evil, answering to God and the Devil with us Christians, therefore, from
					their sudden strange behaviour, I concluded, that they apprehended I must be the
					latter, the evil being whom they dreaded, and therefore fled. This determined<pb n="186 [page breaks after 'de-']" facs="pageImages/186.png"/>  the
					conduct I was to pursue. I therefore immediately called to the high-priest, who
					lay on the ground, "Arise, and learn to be wise and happy." </p>
				<p>But observing that he continued motionless, and not knowing but he might be dead,
					I extended my voice to the highest pitch I could, depending on the mechanism of
					the statue, for its reaching to the ears of the affrighted multitude; and thus
					called after them: "Return, I am not the evil being whom ye dread; <ref target="provoke_" corresp="provoke">return and provoke me not, to destroy you</ref>
					<note xml:id="provoke" target="provoke_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					Unca Eliza continues to encourage the Indigenous people to believe that she is a 
					divine figure, going so far as to threaten the crowd. Here, she claims that God will not 
					hurt them, on the condition they "hearken" [listen] to her. She believes her 
					Christianity and identity as being half-white place her above the fully Indigenous 
					people she has encountered, reflecting <ref target="https://plato.stanford.edu/cgi-bin/encyclopedia/archinfo.cgi?entry=colonialism">the most 
					common justification for colonialism</ref> during the time: the idea that those being 
					colonized were "uncivilized," and that Europeans were "obligat[ed] to 'civilize' the 
					rest of the world."</note>, before you can reach your own shore."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>I know not whether the <ref target="casuists_" corresp="casuists">casuists</ref>
					<note xml:id="casuists" target="casuists_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Typically, a casuist is a theologian who
						studies cases of conscience or complex questions regarding duty and
						conduct.</note> may justify this artifice from sin; but to me it appeared
					expedient, and was successfully<pb n="187 [page breaks after 'suc-']" facs="pageImages/187.png"/>  adapted to their fears, for they
					immediately halted, and began slowly to return back. At this instant, perceiving
					the high-priest to move, I repractised the same artifice on him. "Arise" said I,
					"and I will neither destroy you, nor the people; but if you would procure my
					favour, encourage them to return, and to attend to my
					instructions."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>He immediately arose; and turning to the people, beckoned to them to come
					forwards. This encouraged them to come again to their former station; when he
					said to them, "The oracle will not hurt you; but he will be
					heard."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>This was as I wished; but, observing the signs of fear still strongly stampt upon
					them, I thus addressed them: </p>

				<pb n="188" facs="pageImages/188.png"/>
				<p>"Fear not, I am not the evil being; and if you will hearken to me, he shall never
					hurt you."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>These words had the desired effect; they immediately appeared calm and pleased,
					bowing to the earth with profound reverence. After this the highpriest spoke to
					me, with a trembling voice. </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Will you protect us from the evil being,
					that he may not hurt us?"<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "God, who hath all power only, and who is good
					and gracious, "will protect you, and will not suf"fer the evil being to hurt
					you." </p>

				<pb n="189" facs="pageImages/189.png"/>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "But must we not pray to the evil being not
					to hurt us?"<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "No; you must pray to God
					only."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Must we not pray to the Sun?" </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "No; for he was made by God, to give you light
					and heat, and has no understanding." <!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Will he not be angry then, and leave us in
					the dark." </p>
				<!--quote adjustment-->
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "No; look at that tree on your right hand, you
					know it grows, bears leaves and fruit; do you think it can see, or hear, or
					unnderstand?"<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>

				<pb n="190" facs="pageImages/190.png"/>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "I don't know." </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "Can it move about from place to place, as you
					do?"<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "I believe not?" </p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer.</hi> "I told you before that God made all things; the
					sun is one of those things which he hath made by his great power, and hath fixed
					it in the air, but it cannot move from place to place, by any power that it hath
					in itself, as you can, but is moved as God pleases. It can neither see, hear,
					speak, nor think as you can, who therefore art a more excellent creature than
					the sun, and therefore must not worship him, for he was made for your use, any
					more <pb n="191" facs="pageImages/191.png"/>than you should worship that tree,
					because it does you good by bearing fruit for you to eat: nor must you worship
					any other creature you see, for the same reason; because they are all 
					<ref target="philosophy_" corresp="philosophy">made by
					God for your use</ref>
                    <note xml:id="philosophy" target="philosophy_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Unca Eliza’s religious teaching here
					reinforces a hierarchy according to usefulness, with nature's value coming
					from how useful it is to mankind. This follows a philosophical viewpoint
					known as <ref target="https://www.britannica.com/topic/anthropocentrism">anthropocentrism</ref>. 
					Ethicists find that this philosophy is embedded within many
					Western religions, including in the story of Creation from the book of <ref target="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis%201&amp;version=KJV">
					Genesis</ref>. Interpretations of the story have led to the belief
					that human beings were created to be separate from and superior to all
					other forms of life and that everything on earth was created by God to be
					a resource to support and benefit humankind.</note>, and he hath given them to you." 
					<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">High-Priest.</hi> "Did God send you to teach
					us?"<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>
					<hi rend="italic">Answer."</hi> <ref target="hear_" corresp="hear">He brought me 
					hear</ref>
                    <note xml:id="hear" target="hear_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">This instance of the word “here” being spelled 
					as its homophone, “hear,” may simply be a spelling variation or a typo. 
					However, it is also suggestive in this context, given the fact that <ref target="https://scholarship.claremont.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1089&amp;context=scripps_fac_pub">
					speech and language have undeniable connections to colonialism</ref>.</note>, 
					and I will teach you."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p> As it was now high noon, I thought they might want to refresh themselves, and
					therefore said, "You may now eat and drink, and then I will speak to you
					again."<!--quote adjustment--> The whole assembly <pb n="192" facs="pageImages/192.png"/>then bowed themselves, with great reverence,
					three times to the ground, and then sat down to eat and drink. </p>
				<p>I was myself very glad to have a little time, to consider how I should proceed on
					this extraordinary occasion. Whilst I took some refreshment myself, I reflected
					very deliberately upon this important business I had undertaken, and prayed to
					God that I might be the means of instructing them in the truth, and <ref target="occom_" corresp="occom">bring them, happily, to the knowledge of Christianity</ref>
					<note xml:id="occom" target="occom_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
                        <graphic url="notes/occom.jpg" alt="sepia-toned, full-length seated portrait of a middle-aged man       in formal dress, pointing at an open book" source="https://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portrait/mw37948/Samson-Occom?" desc="Mezzotint of Samson Occom by Jonathan Spilsbury, after a portrait by       Mason Chamberlin, 1768. Source: National Portrait Gallery, UK. License:       CC-BY-NC-ND 3.0"/>Scholars have pointed towards the resemblance between 
					Unca Eliza and the <ref target="http://eada.lib.umd.edu/author-entries/occom-samson/">
					Mohegan minister <persName type="lcnaf" key="n85277145">Samson Occum</persName>
					(1723-1792)</ref>, who served as a Christian missionary among Native peoples 
					in the eighteenth century. Like Occom, Unca Eliza is Indigenous, Christian, 
					and an evangelist. In “<ref target="https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511801976.010">
					Samson Occom’s Itinerancies</ref>,” Eve Tavor Bannet points out that 
					Unca Eliza’s Indigeneity or “likeness” to the people she wants to convert 
					is what allows her to gain religious authority (183). Bannet connects this 
					to Occom, who used his knowledge and identity as an Indigenous man to create 
					missionary practices that would appeal to Native American audiences. Through 
					embracing both parts of his identity, Occom furthered Christian missionary efforts, 
					but also challenged the role of the white missionary in Western society.</note>. 
					But as this affair required a very mature deliberation, I thought it would be best 
					to dismiss them at this time, and order some of them to come again the next week. 
					As soon then as I found that they had finished their repast, I said to the 
					<!--It looks like in this unusual case, the catch word "the" was not repeated on 
					the next page. I have added it in. -->
					<pb n="193" facs="pageImages/193.png"/>high-priest, "I would have you now, all
					of you, return home, and you the priests, and as many of you as will, may come
					here again this day week, but not before, upon pain of my displeasure, and then
					I will instruct you further."<!--quote adjustment-->
				</p>
				<p>Upon this they all set up a shout of joy, and having made their <ref target="obeisances_" corresp="obeisances">obeisances</ref>
					<note xml:id="obeisances" target="obeisances_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">signs of submission to authority</note> as
					before, returned back to the shore, in a reversed order from that they came in;
					for now the children walked first, the grown people next, and the priests last,
					carrying the high-priest with them. </p>
				<trailer>End of VOL. I. </trailer>
			</div>

			<div type="advertisement">
				<!--Is this a colophon or an advertisement?-->

				<pb n="194" facs="pageImages/194.png"/>
				<head type="sub">Reputable Circulating Libraries.</head>
				<floatingText>
					<body>
						<opener>
                            <dateline>
                                <hi rend="italic">
									<date when="1766-11-08">November 8,
							1766</date>.</hi>
                            </dateline>
                        </opener>
						<p>WE, Proprietors of Circulating Libraries, finding it impossible to
							continue the Business of Lending Books to Read on the <hi rend="italic">late low Terms of Subscription,</hi> with the same Degree of
							Reputation to ourselves, and Satisfaction to the Public, as we did at a
							time when neither so great a number of New Books were published, nor the
							Demand for them so great as now, have been compelled to advance the Sum
							of <hi rend="italic">one Shilling</hi> on our <hi rend="italic">Quarterly,</hi> and <hi rend="italic">Eighteen Pence</hi> on our
								<hi rend="italic">Yearly</hi> Subscribers, in order to avoid the
							disagreeable Alternative of throwing up that Branch of Business, which
							hath so many Years been a Source of Amusement, and, we will venture to
							add, Instruction to the Public, or of suffering it to languish through a
							want of a proper Supply of <hi rend="italic">New Books,</hi> so
							essentially necessary to its Credit and Support. And whereas, we have
							experienced the most chearful Compliance from our Subscribers in the
							Payment of the trifling Sum so reasonably advanced upon them; we hereby
							(each for himself) take this Opportunity of assuring <hi rend="italic">them</hi> in particular, and the <hi rend="italic">Public</hi> in
							general, that no Pains nor Expence in our Power shall be wanting to
							render our respective Libraries (in point of Utility, Extensiveness, and
							Amusement) of such Advantage over all others, who shall continue to lend
							at the <hi rend="italic">old</hi> Price (if any such should be <pb n="195" facs="pageImages/195.png"/> found) as shall more than
							compensate for the saving of so inconsiderable a Sum as that
							abovementioned, since they may be assured that it is our most serious
							Intention to purchase for the Use of our Subscribers without Exception,
							a much larger Quantity and greater Variety of New Books than can
							possibly be furnished by any One lending at less than <lb/>Four
							Shillings <hi rend="italic">per</hi> Quarter, <lb/>OR <lb/>Twelve
							Shillings <hi rend="italic">per</hi> Year.</p>
						<!--I'm not sure exactly how to treat this -   q or lb? -->
						<closer>
                            <signed>
								<hi rend="italic">
									<persName type="lcnaf" key="nr93028454">Francis Noble</persName>
								</hi>, near <placeName>Middle-Row</placeName>, <placeName type="tgn" key="1004682">Holbourn</placeName>.<lb/>
								<hi rend="italic">
									<persName type="lcnaf" key="nb2008022977">John Noble</persName>
								</hi>, <placeName>St Martin's-Court</placeName>,
									<placeName>Leicester-Square</placeName>.<lb/>
								<hi rend="italic">
									<persName>Williams Bathoe</persName>
								</hi>, near <placeName>Exeter-Change</placeName>,
									<placeName>Strand</placeName>.<lb/>
								<hi rend="italic">
									<persName type="lcnaf" key="nr91019158">Thomas Lownds</persName>
								</hi>, <placeName>Fleet-Street</placeName>.<lb/>
								<hi rend="italic">
									<persName type="lcnaf" key="nr92035163">T. Vernor</persName>
								</hi> and <hi rend="italic">
									<persName>J. Chater</persName>
								</hi>, <placeName>Ludgate-Hill</placeName>.<lb/>
								<hi rend="italic">T. Jones</hi>,
									<placeName>May's-Buildings</placeName>, <placeName>St.
									Martins-Lane</placeName>.<lb/>
								<hi rend="italic">
									<persName>William Cooke</persName>
								</hi>, <placeName>Queen-Street</placeName>, <placeName type="tgn" key="4012701">May-Fair</placeName>. </signed>
                        </closer>
					</body>
				</floatingText>
			</div>
		</body>
	</text>
</TEI>