“‘We have on board one of the Indian chiefs who walked in the procession at Loretto, and his daughter, a genteel young woman. He speaks the English language. He said he knew General Washington, and had dined with him twice; and that the general had made him a present of a very good horse. ‘I told General Washington,’ said he, ‘that your horse; he tell me to call one of his aids, and he say, Col. Trumbull, write order for Vincent, (that my name,) for that horse; so I keep him. He very good horse.’ The story of the horse was thus explained. Vincent commanded a body of Indians at the capture of Burgoyne, and was made a prisoner with that general. The horse had been taken by him from the Americans; and hence he called him not his own, but Washington’s. This information I obtained from others on board. Taking me aside, he said, ‘I saw you Loretto.’ _C._ ‘I was there, and saw you walking at the head of the procession.’ _V._ ‘Yes, I walk.’ _C._ ‘What was that the priest carried?’ _V._ ‘What religion you?’ _C._ ‘I am a protestant.’ _V._ ‘Then you very good man; priest carry image Virgin Mary. This is all nonsense. He tell us poor Indians we must believe, or be condemned, that Virgin Mary was taken up into heaven—soul and body; you believe that?’ _C._ ‘I do not understand it: what is your opinion?’ _V._ ‘I do not believe; I do not read that in Scripture. Priest tell us poor ignorant Indians that we must worship her, and saints, and images. I do not find that in Scripture neither; but I read, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou worship. Thou shalt make no graven image, nor worship them: that my belief. I think it wicked to worship images; but God is merciful. Priest tell us ignorant Indians we must have mass; fetch out purgatory our fathers, dead hundred years ago; and we pay sometimes one, sometimes two dollars each mass. Brother, you believe there is a purgatory?’ _C._ ‘I have no knowledge of such a place. What is your opinion?’ _V._ ‘I don’t believe; and tell you my opinion. I believe if our heart be not purge in this life, it never will purge.’ On my assenting to his doctrine, he asked, ‘Where do you think is hell?’ I told him I did not know. Then added he, ‘I’ll tell you where I think it is: it is in the sun.’ I felt some surprise at all this; and, asking him where he had been educated, he replied at Hampshire. He then asked me to drink a glass of grog; and on my declining, he bid me good bye, and walked to the forecastle to sip it by himself. On observing a young Indian on board very attentive to the chief’s daughter, I told Vincent I supposed this man was courting her; on which he replied with much warmth, ‘No; him Mohawk.’