Know, therefore, that I was born in Hirnlay, in the parish of Aboyne, and county of Aberdeen, North Britain, if not of rich, yet of reputable pa- rents, who supported me in the best manner they could, as long as they had the happiness of having me under their inspection: but fatally for me, and to their great grief, as it afterwards proved, I was sent to live with an aunt at Aberdeen; when, under the years of pupillarity, playing on the quay, with others of my companions, being of a stout robust constitution, I was taken notice of by two fellows belonging to a vessel in the harbour, employed (as the trade then was) by some of the worthy merchants in the town, in that villainous and execrable practice called Kidnapping; that is stealing young children from their parents, and selling them as slaves in the Plantations abroad.
Being marked out by those monsters of impiety as their prey, I was cajoled on board the ship by them, where I was no sooner got. Then they conducted me between the decks to some others they had kidnapped in the same manner. At that time, I had no sense of the fate that was destined for me, and spent the time in childish amusements with my fellow sufferers in the steerage, being never suffered to go upon deck whilst the vessel lay in the harbour, which was until such a time as they had got in their loading, with a complement of unhappy youths for carrying on their wicked commerce.
In about a month's time the ship set sail for America. The treatment we met with, and the trifling incidents which happened during the voyage, I hope I may be excused from relating, as not being at that time of an age sufficient to remark any thing more than what must occur to every one on such an occasion. However, I cannot forget that, when we arrived on the coast we were destined for, a hard gale of wind sprung up from the S. E. and, to the captain's great surprise (he not thinking he was near land), although having been 11 weeks on the passage, about twelve o'clock at night the ship struck on a sand-bank off Cape May, near the Capes of Delaware, and to* the great terror and affright of the ship's company, in a short time was almost full of water.
The [ship’s] boat was then hoisted out, into which the captain, and his fellow villains, the crew, got with some difficulty, leaving me, and my deluded companions, to perish; as they then naturally concluded inevitable death to be our fate. Often, in my distresses and miseries since, have I wished that such had been the consequence, when in a state of innocence! But Providence thought proper to reserve me for future trials of its goodness.
Thus abandoned and deserted, without the least prospect of relief, but threatened every moment with death, did these villains leave us. The cries, the shrieks, and tears of a parcel of infants, had no effect on, or caused the least remorse in the breasts of these merciless wretches. Scarce can I say, to which to give the preference; whether to such as these who have had the opportunity of knowing the Christian religion: or to the savages herein after described, who profane not the gospel, or boast of humanity; and if they act in a more brutal and butcherly manner, yet it is to their enemies, for the sake of plunder and the rewards offered them, for their principles are alike; the love of sordid gain being both their motives.
—The ship being on a sand bank, which did not give way to let her deeper, we lay in the same deplorable condition until morning, when, though we saw the land of Cape May, at about a mile's distance, we knew not what would be our fate.
The wind at length abated, and the captain (unwilling to lose all her cargo), about ten o'clock, sent some of his crew in a boat to the ship's side to bring us on shore, where we lay in a sort of a camp, made of the sails of the vessel, and such other tilings as we could get. The provisions lasted us until we were taken in by a vessel bound to Philadelphia, lying on this island, as well as one can recollect, near three weeks. Very little of the cargo was saved undamaged, and the vessel entirely lost.
When arrived and landed at Philadelphia, the capital of Pennsylvania, the captain had soon people enough who came to buy us. He, making the most of his villainous loading, after his disaster, sold us at about £16 per head. What became of my unhappy companions, I never knew; but it was my lot to be sold to one of my countrymen, whose name was Hugh Wilson, a North Britain, for the term of seven years, who had in his youth undergone the same fate as myself, having been kidnapped from St. Johnstown, in Scotland.
As I shall often have occasion to mention Philadelphia during the course of my adventures, I shall, in this place, give a short and concise description of the finest city of America, and one of the best laid out in the world.
