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Pioneers of the Old South: A Chronicle of English Colonial Beginnings

by Mary Johnston · English · Gutenberg #2898 · 312,184 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Pioneers of the Old South: A Chronicle of English Colonial Beginnings

Author: Mary Johnston

Editor: Allen Johnson


        
Release date: November 1, 2001 [eBook #2898]
                Most recently updated: December 29, 2008

Language: English

Original publication: S.l.: s.n., 1918

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2898

Credits: Produced by Dianne Bean, Justin Philips, The James J. Kelly
        Library Of St. Gregory's University, Alev Akman, and David Widger


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIONEERS OF THE OLD SOUTH: A CHRONICLE OF ENGLISH COLONIAL BEGINNINGS ***




Produced by Dianne Bean, Justin Philips, The James J. Kelly
Library Of St. Gregory's University, and Alev Akman






PIONEERS OF THE OLD SOUTH

A CHRONICLE OF ENGLISH COLONIAL BEGINNINGS

By Mary Johnston




CONTENTS

     I.    THE THREE SHIPS SAIL
     II.   THE ADVENTURERS
     III.  JAMESTOWN
     IV.   JOHN SMITH
     V.    THE SEA ADVENTURE
     VI.   SIR THOMAS DALE
     VII.  YOUNG VIRGINIA
     VIII. ROYAL GOVERNMENT
     IX.   MARYLAND
     X.    CHURCH AND KINGDOM
     XI.   COMMONWEALTH AND RESTORATION
     XII.  NATHANIEL BACON
     XIII. REBELLION AND CHANGE
     XIV.  THE CAROLINAS
     XV.   ALEXANDER SPOTSWOOD
     XVI.  GEORGIA


     THE NAVIGATION LAWS

     BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE




PIONEERS OF THE OLD SOUTH



CHAPTER I. THE THREE SHIPS SAIL

Elizabeth of England died in 1603. There came to the English throne
James Stuart, King of Scotland, King now of England and Scotland. In
1604 a treaty of peace ended the long war with Spain. Gone was the
sixteenth century; here, though in childhood, was the seventeenth
century.

Now that the wars were over, old colonization schemes were revived
in the English mind. Of the motives, which in the first instance had
prompted these schemes, some with the passing of time had become weaker,
some remained quite as strong as before. Most Englishmen and women knew
now that Spain had clay feet; and that Rome, though she might threaten,
could not always perform what she threatened. To abase the pride of
Spain, to make harbors of refuge for the angel of the Reformation--these
wishes, though they had not vanished, though no man could know how long
the peace with Spain would last, were less fervid than they had been in
the days of Drake. But the old desire for trade remained as strong as
ever. It would be a great boon to have English markets in the New World,
as well as in the Old, to which merchants might send their wares, and
from which might be drawn in bulk, the raw stuffs that were needed
at home. The idea of a surplus population persisted; England of five
million souls still thought that she was crowded and that it would
be well to have a land of younger sons, a land of promise for all not
abundantly provided for at home. It were surely well, for mere pride's
sake, to have due lot and part in the great New World! And wealth like
that which Spain had found was a dazzle and a lure. "Why, man, all their
dripping-pans are pure gold, and all the chains with which they chain up
their streets are massy gold; all the prisoners they take are fettered
in gold; and for rubies and diamonds they go forth on holidays and
gather 'em by the seashore!" So the comedy of "Eastward Ho!" seen on the
London stage in 1605--"Eastward Ho!" because yet they thought of America
as on the road around to China.

In this year Captain George Weymouth sailed across the sea and spent
a summer month in North Virginia--later, New England. Weymouth had
powerful backers, and with him sailed old adventurers who had been
with Raleigh. Coming home to England with five Indians in his company,
Weymouth and his voyage gave to public interest the needed fillip
towards action. Here was the peace with Spain, and here was the new
interest in Virginia. "Go to!" said Mother England. "It is time to place
our children in the world!"

The old adventurers of the day of Sir Humphrey Gilbert had acted as
individuals. Soon was to come in the idea of cooperative action--the
idea of the joint-stock company, acting under the open permission of the
Crown, attended by the interest and favor of numbers of the people, and
giving to private initiative and personal ambition, a public tone.
Some men of foresight would have had Crown and Country themselves the
adventurers, superseding any smaller bodies. But for the moment the
fortunes of Virginia were furthered by a group within the great group,
by a joint-stock company, a corporation.

In 1600 had come into being the East India Company, prototype of many
companies to follow. Now, six years later, there arose under one royal
charter two companies, generally known as the London and the Plymouth.
The first colony planted by the latter was short-lived. Its letters
patent were for North Virginia. Two ships, the Mary and John and the
Gift of God, sailed with over a hundred settlers. These men, reaching
the coast of what is now Maine, built a fort and a church on the banks
of the Kennebec. Then followed the usual miseries typical of colonial
venture--sickness, starvation, and a freezing winter. With the return of
summer the enterprise was abandoned. The foundation of New England was
delayed awhile, her Pilgrims yet in England, though meditating that
first remove to Holland, her Mayflower only a ship of London port,
staunch, but with no fame above another.

The London Company, soon to become the Virginia Company, therefore
engages our attention. The charter recites that Sir Thomas Gates and
Sir George Somers, Knights, Richard Hakluyt, clerk, Prebendary of
Westminster, Edward-Maria Wingfield, and other knights, gentlemen,
merchants, and adventurers, wish "to make habitation, plantation, and
to deduce a colony of sundry of our people into that part of America
commonly called Virginia." It covenants with them and gives them for
a heritage all America between the thirty-fourth and the forty-first
parallels of latitude.

The thirty-fourth parallel passes through the middle of what is now
South Carolina; the forty-first grazes New York, crosses the northern
tip of New Jersey, divides Pennsylvania, and so westward across to that
Pacific or South Sea that the age thought so near to the Atlantic. All
England might have been placed many times over in what was given to
those knights, gentlemen, merchants, and others.

The King's charter created a great Council of Virginia, sitting in
London, governing from overhead. In the new land itself there should
exist a second and lesser council. The two councils had authority within
the range of Virginian matters, but the Crown retained the power of
veto. The Council in Virginia might coin money for trade with the
Indians, expel invaders, import settlers, punish ill-doers, levy and
collect taxes--should have, in short, dignity and power enough for any
colony. Likewise, acting for the whole, it might give and take orders
"to dig, mine and search for all manner of mines of gold, silver and
copper... to have and enjoy... yielding to us, our heirs and successors,
the fifth part only of all the same gold and silver, and the fifteenth
part of all the same copper."

Now are we ready--it being Christmas-tide of the year 1606--to go to
Virginia. Riding on the Thames, before Blackwall, are three ships, small
enough in all conscience' sake, the Susan Constant, the Goodspeed, and
the Discovery. The Admiral of this fleet is Christopher Newport, an old
seaman of Raleigh's. Bartholomew Gosnold captains the Goodspeed, and
John Ratcliffe the Discovery. The three ships have aboard their crews
and one hundred and twenty colonists, all men. The Council in Virginia
is on board, but it does not yet know itself as such, for the names of
its members have been deposited by the superior home council in a sealed
box, to be opened only on Virginia soil.

The colonists have their paper of instructions. They shall find out a
safe port in the entrance of a navigable river. They shall be prepared
against surprise and attack. They shall observe "whether the river on
which you plant doth spring out of mountains or out of lakes. If it be
out of any lake the passage to the other sea will be the more easy, and
like enough... you shall find some spring which runs the contrary
way toward the East India sea." They must avoid giving offense to the
"naturals"--must choose a healthful place for their houses--must
guard their shipping. They are to set down in black and white for the
information of the Council at home all such matters as directions and
distances, the nature of soils and forests and the various commodities
that they may find. And no man is to return from Virginia without leave
from the Council, and none is to write home any discouraging letter. The
instructions end, "Lastly and chiefly, the way to prosper and to achieve
good success is to make yourselves all of one mind for the good of
your country and your own, and to serve and fear God, the Giver of
all Goodness, for every plantation which our Heavenly Father hath not
planted shall be rooted out."

Nor did they lack verses to go by, as their enterprise itself did not
lack poetry. Michael Drayton wrote for them:--

     Britons, you stay too long,
     Quickly aboard bestow you,
        And with a merry gale,
        Swell your stretched sail,
     With vows as strong
     As the winds that blow you.

     Your course securely steer,
     West and by South forth keep;
        Rocks, lee shores nor shoals,
        Where Eolus scowls,
     You need not fear,

     So absolute the deep.
     And cheerfully at sea
        Success you still entice,
        To get the pearl and gold,
     And ours to hold
     VIRGINIA,
     Earth's only paradise!...

     And in regions far
     Such heroes bring ye forth
        As those from whom we came;
        And plant our name
     Under that star
     Not known unto our north.

See the parting upon Thames's side, Englishmen going, English kindred,
friends, and neighbors calling farewell, waving hat and scarf, standing
bare-headed in the gray winter weather! To Virginia--they are going to
Virginia! The sails are made upon the Susan Constant, the Goodspeed, and
the Discovery. The last wherry carries aboard the last adventurer. The
anchors are weighed. Down the river the wind bears the ships toward the
sea. Weather turning against them, they taste long delay in the Downs,
but at last are forth upon the Atlantic. Hourly the distance grows
between London town and the outgoing folk, between English shores and
where the surf breaks on the pale Virginian beaches. Far away--far away
and long ago--yet the unseen, actual cables hold, and yesterday and
today stand embraced, the lips of the Thames meet the lips of the James,
and the breath of England mingles with the breath of America.



CHAPTER II. THE ADVENTURERS

What was this Virginia to which they were bound? In the sixteenth
and early seventeenth centuries the name stood for a huge stretch of
littoral, running southward from lands of long winters and fur-bearing
animals to lands of the canebrake, the fig, the magnolia, the chameleon,
and the mockingbird. The world had been circumnavigated; Drake had
passed up the western coast--and yet cartographers, the learned, and
those who took the word from the learned, strangely visualized the North
American mainland as narrow indeed. Apparently, they conceived it as a
kind of extended Central America. The huge rivers puzzled them. There
existed a notion that these might be estuaries, curling and curving
through the land from sea to sea. India--Cathay--spices and wonders and
Orient wealth--lay beyond the South Sea, and the South Sea was but a few
days' march from Hatteras or Chesapeake. The Virginia familiar to the
mind of the time lay extended, and she was very slender. Her right hand
touched the eastern ocean, and her left hand touched the western.

Contact and experience soon modified this general notion. Wider
knowledge, political and economic considerations, practical reasons of
all kinds, drew a different physical form for old Virginia. Before the
seventeenth century had passed away, they had given to her northern
end a baptism of other names. To the south she was lopped to make the
Carolinas. Only to the west, for a long time, she seemed to grow, while
like a mirage the South Sea and Cathay receded into the distance.

This narrative, moving with the three ships from England, and through a
time span of less than a hundred and fifty years, deals with a region
of the western hemisphere a thousand miles in length, several hundred
in breadth, stretching from the Florida line to the northern edge of
Chesapeake Bay, and from the Atlantic to the Appalachians. Out of this
Virginia there grow in succession the ancient colonies and the modern
States of Virginia, Maryland, South and North Carolina, and Georgia.

But for many a year Virginia itself was the only settlement and the only
name. This Virginia was a country favored by nature. Neither too hot nor
too cold, it was rich-soiled and capable of every temperate growth in
its sunniest aspect. Great rivers drained it, flowing into a great
bay, almost a sea, many-armed as Briareus, affording safe and sheltered
harbors. Slowly, with beauty, the land mounted to the west. The sun set
behind wooded mountains, long wave-lines raised far back in geologic
time. The valleys were many and beautiful, watered by sliding streams.
Back to the east again, below the rolling land, were found the
shimmering levels, the jewel-green marshes, the wide, slow waters, and
at last upon the Atlantic shore the thunder of the rainbow-tinted surf.
Various and pleasing was the country. Springs and autumns were long and
balmy, the sun shone bright, there was much blue sky, a rich flora and
fauna. There were mineral wealth and water power, and breadth and depth
for agriculture. Such was the Virginia between the Potomac and the Dan,
the Chesapeake and the Alleghanies.

This, and not the gold-bedight slim neighbor of Cathay, was now the
lure of the Susan Constant, the Goodspeed, and the Discovery. But those
aboard, obsessed by Spanish America, imperfectly knowing the features
and distances of the orb, yet clung to their first vision. But they knew
there would be forest and Indians. Tales enough had been told of both!

What has to be imaged is a forest the size of Virginia. Here and there,
chiefly upon river banks, show small Indian clearings. Here and there
are natural meadows, and toward the salt water great marshes, the home
of waterfowl. But all these are little or naught in the whole, faint
adornments sewed upon a shaggy garment, green in summer, flame-hued in
autumn, brown in winter, green and flower-colored in the spring. Nor
was the forest to any appreciable extent like much Virginian forest of
today, second growth, invaded, hewed down, and renewed, to hear again
the sound of the axe, set afire by a thousand accidents, burning upon
its own funeral pyres, all its primeval glory withered. The forest of
old Virginia was jocund and powerful, eternally young and eternally old.
The forest was Despot in the land--was Emperor and Pope.

With the forest went the Indian. They had a pact together. The Indians
hacked out space for their villages of twenty or thirty huts, their
maize and bean fields and tobacco patches. They took saplings for poles
and bark to cover the huts and wood for fires. The forest gave canoe and
bow and arrow, household bowls and platters, the sides of the drum that
was beaten at feasts. It furnished trees serviceable for shelter when
the foe was stalked. It was their wall and roof, their habitat. It was
one of the Four Friends of the Indians--the Ground, the Waters, the Sky,
the Forest. The forest was everywhere, and the Indians dwelled in the
forest. Not unnaturally, they held that this world was theirs.

Upon the three ships, sailing, sailing, moved a few men who could speak
with authority of the forest and of Indians. Christopher Newport was
upon his first voyage to Virginia, but he knew the Indies and the South
American coast. He had sailed and had fought under Francis Drake. And
Bartholomew Gosnold had explored both for himself and for Raleigh. These
two could tell others what to look for. In their company there was also
John Smith. This gentleman, it is true, had not wandered, fought, and
companioned with romance in America, but he had done so everywhere else.
He had as yet no experience with Indians, but he could conceive that
rough experiences were rough experiences, whether in Europe, Asia,
Africa, or America. And as he knew there was a family likeness among
dangerous happenings, so also he found one among remedies, and he had a
bag full of stories of strange happenings and how they should be met.

They were going the old, long West Indies sea road. There was time
enough for talking, wondering, considering the past, fantastically
building up the future. Meeting in the ships' cabins over ale tankards,
pacing up and down the small high-raised poop-decks, leaning idle over
the side, watching the swirling dark-blue waters or the stars of night,
lying idle upon the deck, propped by the mast while the trade-winds
blew and up beyond sail and rigging curved the sky--they had time enough
indeed to plan for marvels! If they could have seen ahead, what pictures
of things to come they might have beheld rising, falling, melting one
into another!

Certain of the men upon the Susan Constant, the Goodspeed, and the
Discovery stand out clearly, etched against the sky.

Christopher Newport might be forty years old. He had been of Raleigh's
captains and was chosen, a very young man, to bring to England from the
Indies the captured great carrack, Madre de Dios, laden with fabulous
treasure. In all, Newport was destined to make five voyages to Virginia,
carrying supply and aid. After that, he would pass into the service of
the East India Company, know India, Java, and the Persian Gulf; would be
praised by that great company for sagacity, energy, and good care of his
men. Ten years' time from this first Virginia voyage, and he would die
upon his ship, the Hope, before Bantam in Java.

Bartholomew Gosnold, the captain of the Goodspeed, had sailed with
thirty others, five years before, from Dartmouth in a bark named the
Concord. He had not made the usual long sweep southward into tropic
waters, there to turn and come northward, but had gone, arrow-straight,
across the north Atlantic--one of the first English sailors to make the
direct passage and save many a weary sea league. Gosnold and his men
had seen Cape Ann and Cape Cod, and had built upon Cuttyhunk, among the
Elizabeth Islands, a little fort thatched with rushes. Then, hardships
thronging and quarrels developing, they had filled their ship with
sassafras and cedar, and sailed for home over the summer Atlantic,
reaching England, with "not one cake of bread" left but only "a little
vinegar." Gosnold, guiding the Goodspeed, is now making his last voyage,
for he is to die in Virginia within the year.

George Percy, brother of the Earl of Northumberland, has fought bravely
in the Low Countries. He is to stay five years in Virginia, to serve
there a short time as Governor, and then, returning to England, is to
write "A Trewe Relacyion", in which he begs to differ from John Smith's
"Generall Historie." Finally, he goes again to the wars in the Low
Countries, serves with distinction, and dies, unmarried, at the age
of fifty-two. His portrait shows a long, rather melancholy face, set
between a lace collar and thick, dark hair.

A Queen and a Cardinal--Mary Tudor and Reginald Pole--had stood sponsors
for the father of Edward-Maria Wingfield. This man, of an ancient and
honorable stock, was older than most of his fellow adventurers to
Virginia. He had fought in Ireland, fought in the Low Countries, had
been a prisoner of war. Now he was presently to become "the first
president of the first council in the first English colony in America."
And then, miseries increasing and wretched men being quick to impute
evil, it was to be held with other assertions against him that he was of
a Catholic family, that he traveled without a Bible, and probably
meant to betray Virginia to the Spaniard. He was to be deposed from his
presidency, return to England, and there write a vindication. "I never
turned my face from daunger, or hidd my handes from labour; so watchful
a sentinel stood myself to myself." With John Smith he had a bitter
quarrel.

Upon the Discovery is one who signed himself "John Radclyffe, comenly
called," and who is named in the London Company's list as "Captain John
Sicklemore, alias Ratcliffe." He will have a short and stormy Virginian
life, and in two years be done to death by Indians. John Smith quarreled
with him also. "A poor counterfeited Imposture!" said Smith. Gabriel
Archer is a lawyer, and first secretary or recorder of the colony.
Short, too, is his life. His name lives in Archer's Hope on the James
River in Virginia. John Smith will have none of him! George Kendall's
life is more nearly spun than Ratcliffe's or Archer's. He will be shot
for treason and rebellion. Robert Hunt is the chaplain. Besides those
whom the time dubbed "gentlemen," there are upon the three ships
English sailors, English laborers, six carpenters, two bricklayers,
a blacksmith, a tailor, a barber, a drummer, other craftsmen, and
nondescripts. Up and down and to and fro they pass in their narrow
quarters, microscopic upon the bosom of the ocean.

John Smith looms large among them. John Smith has a mantle of marvelous
adventure. It seems that he began to make it when he was a boy, and for
many years worked upon it steadily until it was stiff as cloth of gold
and voluminous as a puffed-out summer cloud. Some think that much of it
was such stuff as dreams are made of. Probably some breadths were the
fabric of vision. Still it seems certain that he did have some kind
of an extraordinary coat or mantle. The adventures which he relates of
himself are those of a paladin. Born in 1579 or 1580, he was at this
time still a young man. But already he had fought in France and in
the Netherlands, and in Transylvania against the Turks. He had known
sea-fights and shipwrecks and had journeyed, with adventures galore, in
Italy. Before Regal, in Transylvania, he had challenged three Turks in
succession, unhorsed them, and cut off their heads, for which doughty
deed Sigismund, a Prince of Transylvania, had given him a coat of arms
showing three Turks' heads in a shield. Later he had been taken in
battle and sold into slavery, whereupon a Turkish lady, his master's
sister, had looked upon him with favor. But at last he slew the Turk
and escaped, and after wandering many days in misery came into Russia.
"Here, too, I found, as I have always done when in misfortune, kindly
help from a woman." He wandered on into Germany and thence into France
and Spain. Hearing of wars in Barbary, he crossed from Gibraltar. Here
he met the captain of a French man-of-war. One day while he was with
this man there arose a great storm which drove the ship out to sea. They
went before the wind to the Canaries, and there put themselves to rights
and began to chase Spanish barks. Presently they had a great fight with
two Spanish men-of-war, in which the French ship and Smith came off
victors. Returning to Morocco, Smith bade the French captain good-bye
and took ship for England, and so reached home in 1604. Here he sought
the company of like-minded men, and so came upon those who had been to
the New World--"and all their talk was of its wonders." So Smith
joined the Virginia undertaking, and so we find him headed toward new
adventures in the western world.

On sailed the three ships--little ships--sailing-ships with a long way
to go.

"The twelfth day of February at night we saw a blazing starre and
presently a storme.... The three and twentieth day [of March] we fell
with the Iland of Mattanenio in the West Indies. The foure and twentieth
day we anchored at Dominico, within fourteene degrees of the Line,
a very faire Iland, full of sweet and good smells, inhabited by
many Savage Indians.... The six and twentieth day we had sight of
Marigalanta, and the next day wee sailed with a slacke sail alongst the
Ile of Guadalupa.... We sailed by many Ilands, as Mounserot and an Iland
called Saint Christopher, both uninhabited; about two a clocke in the
afternoone wee anchored at the Ile of Mevis. There the Captaine landed
all his men.... We incamped ourselves on this Ile six days.... The tenth
day [April] we set saile and disimboged out of the West Indies and bare
our course Northerly.... The six and twentieth day of Aprill, about
foure a clocke in the morning, wee descried the Land of Virginia."*

     * Percy's "Discourse in Purchas, His Pilgrims," vol. IV, p.
     1684. Also given in Brown's "Genesis of the United States",
     vol. I, p. 152.

During the long months of this voyage, cramped in the three ships, these
men, most of them young and of the hot-blooded, physically adventurous
sort, had time to develop strong likings and dislikings. The hundred and
twenty split into opposed camps. The several groups nursed all manner of
jealousies. Accusations flew between like shuttlecocks. The sealed box
that they carried proved a manner of Eve's apple. All knew that seven on
board were councilors and rulers, with one of the number President, but
they knew not which were the seven. Smith says that this uncertainty
wrought much mischief, each man of note suggesting to himself, "I shall
be President--or, at least, Councilor!" The ships became cursed with
a pest of factions. A prime quarrel arose between John Smith and
Edward-Maria Wingfield, two whose temperaments seem to have been poles
apart. There arose a "scandalous report, that Smith meant to reach
Virginia only to usurp the Government, murder the Council, and proclaim
himself King." The bickering deepened into forthright quarrel, with at
last the expected explosion. Smith was arrested, was put in irons, and
first saw Virginia as a prisoner.

On the twenty-sixth day of April, 1607, the Susan Constant, the
Goodspeed, and the Discovery entered Chesapeake Bay. They came in
between two capes, and one they named Cape Henry after the then Prince
of Wales, and the other Cape Charles for that brother of short-lived
Henry who was to become Charles the First. By Cape Henry they anchored,
and numbers from the ships went ashore. "But," says George Percy's
Discourse, "we could find nothing worth the speaking of, but faire
meadows and goodly tall Trees, with such Fresh-waters running through
the woods as I was almost ravished at the first sight thereof. At night,
when wee were going aboard, there came the Savages creeping upon all
foure from the Hills like Beares, with their Bowes in their mouths,
charged us very desperately in the faces, hurt Captaine Gabriel
Archer in both his hands, and a sayler in two places of the body very
dangerous. After they had spent their Arrowes and felt the sharpnesse
of our shot, they retired into the Woods with a great noise, and so left
us."

That very night, by the ships' lanterns, Newport, Gosnold, and Ratcliffe
opened the sealed box. The names of the councilors were found to be
Christopher Newport, Bartholomew Gosnold, John Ratcliffe, Edward-Maria
Wingfield, John Martin, John Smith, and George Kendall, with Gabriel
Archer for recorder. From its own number, at the first convenient time,
this Council was to choose its President. All this was now declared and
published to all the company upon the ships. John Smith was given his
freedom but was not yet allowed place in the Council. So closed an
exciting day. In the morning they pressed in parties yet further into
the land, but met no Indians--only came to a place where these savages
had been roasting oysters. The next day saw further exploring. "We
marched some three or foure miles further into the Woods where we saw
great smoakes of fire. Wee marched to those smoakes and found that the
Savages had beene there burning downe the grasse....We passed through
excellent ground full of Flowers of divers kinds and colours, anal as
goodly trees as I have seene, as cedar, cipresse and other kindes; going
a little further we came into a little plat of ground full of fine and
beautifull strawberries, foure times bigger and better than ours in
England. All this march we could neither see Savage nor Towne."*

     * Percy's "Discourse."

The ships now stood into those waters which we call Hampton Roads.
Finding a good channel and taking heart therefrom, they named a horn
of land Point Comfort. Now we call it Old Point Comfort. Presently they
began to go up a great river which they christened the James. To English
eyes it was a river hugely wide. They went slowly, with pauses and
waitings and adventures. They consulted their paper of instructions;
they scanned the shore for good places for their fort, for their
town. It was May, and all the rich banks were in bloom. It seemed a
sweet-scented world of promise. They saw Indians, but had with these
no untoward encounters. Upon the twelfth of May they came to a point
of land which they named Archer's Hope. Landing here, they saw "many
squirels, conies, Black Birds with crimson wings, and divers other
Fowles and Birds of divers and sundrie colours of crimson, watchet,
Yellow, Greene, Murry, and of divers other hewes naturally without any
art using... store of Turkie nests and many Egges." They liked this
place, but for shoal water the ships could not come near to land. So on
they went, eight miles up the river.

Here, upon the north side, thirty-odd miles from the mouth, they came to
a certain peninsula, an island at high water. Two or three miles long,
less than a mile and a half in breadth, at its widest place composed of
marsh and woodland, it ran into the river, into six fathom water, where
the ships might be moored to the trees. It was this convenient deep
water that determined matters. Here came to anchor the Susan Constant,
the Goodspeed, and the Discovery. Here the colonists went ashore. Here
the members of the Council were sworn, and for the first President was
chosen Edward-Maria Wingfield. Here, the first roaming and excitement
abated, they began to unlade the ships, and to build the fort and also
booths for their present sleeping. A church, too, they must have at
once, and forthwith made it with a stretched sail for roof and a board
between two trees whereon to rest Bible and Book of Prayer. Here, for
the first time in all this wilderness, rang English axe in American
forest, here was English law and an English town, here sounded English
speech. Here was placed the germ of that physical, mental, and,
spiritual power which is called the United States of America.



CHAPTER III. JAMESTOWN

In historians' accounts of the first months at Jamestown, too much,
perhaps, has been made of faction and quarrel. All this was there. Men
set down in a wilderness, amid Virginian heat, men, mostly young, of the
active rather than the reflective type, men uncompanioned by women and
children, men beset with dangers and sufferings that were soon to tag
heavily their courage and patience--such men naturally quarreled and
made up, quarreled again and again made up, darkly suspected each the
other, as they darkly suspected the forest and the Indian; then, need of
friendship dominating, embraced each the other, felt the fascination
of the forest, and trusted the Indian. However much they suspected
rebellion, treacheries, and desertions, they practiced fidelities,
though to varying degrees, and there was in each man's breast more or
less of courage and good intent. They were prone to call one another
villain, but actual villainy--save as jealousy, suspicion, and hatred
are villainy--seems rarely to have been present. Even one who was judged
a villain and shot for his villainy seems hardly to have deserved such
fate. Jamestown peninsula turned out to be feverous; fantastic
hopes were matched by strange fears; there were homesickness,
incompatibilities, unfamiliar food and water and air, class differences
in small space, some petty tyrannies, and very certain dangers. The
worst summer heat was not yet, and the fort was building. Trees must be
felled, cabins raised, a field cleared for planting, fishing and hunting
carried on. And some lading, some first fruits, must go back in the
ships. No gold or rubies being as yet found, they would send instead
cedar and sassafras--hard work enough, there at Jamestown, in the
Virginian low-country, with May warm as northern midsummer, and all the
air charged with vapor from the heated river, with exhalations from the
rank forest, from the many marshes.

"The first night of our landing, about midnight," says George Percy in
his "Discourse", "there came some Savages sayling close to our quarter;
presently there was an alarm given; upon that the savages ran away....
Not long after there came two Savages that seemed to be Commanders,
bravely dressed, with Crownes of coloured haire upon their heads, which
came as Messengers from the Werowance of Paspihe, telling us that their
Werowance was comming and would be merry with us with a fat Deere. The
eighteenth day the Werowance of Paspihe came himselfe to our quarter,
with one hundred Savages armed which guarded him in very warlike manner
with Bowes and Arrowes." Some misunderstanding arose. "The Werowance,
[seeing] us take to our armes, went suddenly away with all his company
in great anger." The nineteenth day Percy with several others going into
the woods back of the peninsula met with a narrow path traced through
the forest. Pursuing it, they came to an Indian village. "We Stayed
there a while and had of them strawberries and other thinges.... One
of the Savages brought us on the way to the Woodside where there was a
Garden of Tobacco and other fruits and herbes; he gathered Tobacco and
distributed to every one of us, so wee departed."

It is evident that neither race yet knew if it was to be war or peace.
What the white man thought and came to think of the red man has been set
down often enough; there is scantier testimony as to what was the red
man's opinion of the white man. Here imagination must be called upon.

Newport's instructions from the London Council included exploration
before he should leave the colonists and bring the three ships back to
England. Now, with the pinnace and a score of men, among whom was John
Smith, he went sixty miles up the river to where the flow is broken by
a world of boulders and islets, to the hills crowned today by Richmond,
capital of Virginia. The first adventurers called these rapid and
whirling waters the Falls of the Farre West. To their notion they must
lie at least half-way across the breadth of America. Misled by Indian
stories, they believed and wrote that five or six days' march from the
Falls of the Farre West, even through the thick forest, would bring them
to the South Sea. The Falls of the Farre West, where at Richmond the
James goes with a roaring sound around tree-crowned islet--it is strange
to think that they once marked our frontier! How that frontier has been
pushed westward is a romance indeed. And still, today, it is but a five
or six days' journey to that South Sea sought by those early Virginians.
The only condition for us is that we shall board a train. Tomorrow, with
the airship, the South Sea may come nearer yet!

The Indians of this part of the earth were of the great Algonquin
family, and the tribes with which the colonists had now to do
were drawn, probably by a polity based on blood ties, into a loose
confederation within the larger mass. Newport was "told that the name of
the river was Powhatan, the name of the chief Powhatan, and the name of
the people Powhatans." But it seemed that the chief Powhatan was not at
this village but at another and a larger place named Werowocomoco, on
a second great river in the back country to the north and east of
Jamestown. Newport and his men were "well entreated" by the Indians.
"But yet," says Percy, "the Savages murmured at our planting in the
Countrie."

The party did not tarry up the river. Back came their boat through the
bright weather, between the verdurous banks, all green and flower-tinted
save where might be seen the brown of Indian clearings with bark-covered
huts and thin, up-curling blue smoke. Before them once more rose
Jamestown, palisaded now, and riding before it the three ships. And
here there barked an English dog, and here were Englishmen to welcome
Englishmen. Both parties had news to tell, but the town had most. On the
26th of May, Indians had made an attack four hundred of them with the
Werowance of Paspihe. One Englishman had been killed, a number wounded.
Four of the Council had each man his wound.

Newport must now lift anchor and sail away to England. He left at
Jamestown a fort "having three Bulwarkes at every corner like a halfe
Moone, and foure or five pieces of Artillerie mounted in them," a street
or two of reed-thatched cabins, a church to match, a storehouse, a
market-place and drill ground, and about all a stout palisade with a
gate upon the river side. He left corn sown and springing high, and some
food in the storehouse. And he left a hundred Englishmen who had now
tasted of the country fare and might reasonably fear no worse chance
than had yet befallen. Newport promised to return in twenty weeks with
full supplies.

John Smith says that his enemies, chief amongst whom was Wingfield,
would have sent him with Newport to England, there to stand trial for
attempted mutiny, whereupon he demanded a trial in Virginia, and got it
and was fully cleared. He now takes his place in the Council, beforetime
denied him. He has good words only for Robert Hunt, the chaplain, who,
he says, went from one to the other with the best of counsel. Were they
not all here in the wilderness together, with the savages hovering about
them like the Philistines about the Jews of old? How should the English
live, unless among themselves they lived in amity? So for the moment
factions were reconciled, and all went to church to partake of the Holy
Communion.

Newport sailed, having in the holds of his ships sassafras and valuable
woods but no gold to meet the London Council's hopes, nor any certain
news of the South Sea. In due time he reached England, and in due time
he turned and came again to Virginia. But long was the sailing to and
fro between the daughter country and the mother country and the lading
and unlading at either shore. It was seven months before Newport came
again.

While he sails, and while England-in-America watches for him longingly,
look for a moment at the attitude of Spain, falling old in the
procession of world-powers, but yet with grip and cunning left. Spain
misliked that English New World venture. She wished to keep these seas
for her own; only, with waning energies, she could not always enforce
what she conceived to be her right. By now there was seen to be much
clay indeed in the image. Philip the Second was dead; and Philip the
Third, an indolent king, lived in the Escurial.

Pedro de Zuniga is the Spanish Ambassador to the English Court. He has
orders from Philip to keep him informed, and this he does, and from time
to time suggests remedies. He writes of Newport and the First Supply.
"Sire.... Captain Newport makes haste to return with some people--and
there have combined merchants and other persons who desire to establish
themselves there; because it appears to them the most suitable place
that they have discovered for privateering and making attacks upon
the merchant fleets of Your Majesty. Your Majesty will command to see
whether they will be allowed to remain there.... They are in a great
state of excitement about that place, and very much afraid lest Your
Majesty should drive them out of it.... And there are so many... who
speak already of sending people to that country, that it is advisable
not to be too slow; because they will soon be found there with large
numbers of people."* In Spain the Council of State takes action upon
Zuniga's communications and closes a report to the King with these
words: "The actual taking possession will be to drive out of Virginia
all who are there now, before they are reenforced, and.... it will be
well to issue orders that the small fleet stationed to the windward,
which for so many years has been in state of preparation, should be
instantly made ready and forthwith proceed to drive out all who are now
in Virginia, since their small numbers will make this an easy task, and
this will suffice to prevent them from again coming to that place." Upon
this is made a Royal note: "Let such measures be taken in this business
as may now and hereafter appear proper."

     * Brown's "Genesis of the United States", vol. 1, pp. 116-118.


It would seem that there was cause indeed for watching down the river
by that small, small town that was all of the United States! But there
follows a Spanish memorandum. "The driving out... by the fleet stationed
to the windward will be postponed for a long time because delay will
be caused by getting it ready."* Delay followed delay, and old
Spain--conquistador Spain--grew older, and the speech on Jamestown
Island is still English.

     * Op. cit., vol. 1, p. 127.


Christopher Newport was gone; no ships--the last refuges, the last
possibilities for home-turning, should the earth grow too hard and the
sky too black--rode upon the river before the fort. Here was the summer
heat. A heavy breath rose from immemorial marshes, from the ancient
floor of the forest. When clouds gathered and storms burst, they amazed
the heart with their fearful thunderings and lightnings. The colonists
had no well, but drank from the river, and at neither high nor low tide
found the water wholesome. While the ships were here they had help of
ship stores, but now they must subsist upon the grain that they had in
the storehouse, now scant and poor enough. They might fish and hunt, but
against such resources stood fever and inexperience and weakness, and in
the woods the lurking savages. The heat grew greater, the water
worse, the food less. Sickness began. Work became toil. Men pined from
homesickness, then, coming together, quarreled with a weak violence,
then dropped away again into corners and sat listlessly with hanging
heads.

"The sixth of August there died John Asbie of the bloodie Flixe. The
ninth day died George Flowre of the swelling. The tenth day died William
Bruster gentleman, of a wound given by the Savages.... The fourteenth
day Jerome Alikock, Ancient, died of a wound, the same day Francis
Mid-winter, Edward Moris, Corporall, died suddenly. The fifteenth day
their died Edward Browne and Stephen Galthrope. The sixteenth day their
died Thomas Gower gentleman. The seventeenth day their died Thomas
Mounslie. The eighteenth day theer died Robert Pennington and John
Martine gentlemen. The nineteenth day died Drue Piggase gentleman.

"The two and twentieth day of August there died Captain Bartholomew
Gosnold one of our Councell, he was honourably buried having all the
Ordnance in the Fort shot off, with many vollies of small shot....

"The foure and twentieth day died Edward Harrington and George Walker
and were buried the same day. The six and twentieth day died Kenelme
Throgmortine. The seven and twentieth day died William Roods. The eight
and twentieth day died Thomas Stoodie, Cape Merchant. The fourth day of
September died Thomas Jacob, Sergeant. The fifth day there died Benjamin
Beast...."*

     * Percy's "Discourse."

Extreme misery makes men blind, unjust, and weak of judgment. Here was
gross wretchedness, and the colonists proceeded to blame A and B and
C, lost all together in the wilderness. It was this councilor or that
councilor, this ambitious one or that one, this or that almost certainly
ascertained traitor! Wanting to steal the pinnace, the one craft left by
Newport, wanting to steal away in the pinnace and leave the mass--small
enough mass now!--without boat or raft or straw to cling to, made the
favorite accusation. Upon this count, early in September, Wingfield
was deposed from the presidency. Ratcliffe succeeded him, but presently
Ratcliffe fared no better. One councilor fared worse, for George
Kendall, accused of plotting mutiny and pinnace stealing, was given
trial, found guilty, and shot.

"The eighteenth day [of September] died one Ellis Kinistone.... The same
day at night died one Richard Simmons. The nineteenth day there died one
Thomas Mouton...."

What went on, in Virginia, in the Indian mind, can only be conjectured.
As little as the white mind could it foresee the trend of events or
the ultimate outcome of present policy. There was exhibited a see-saw
policy, or perhaps no policy at all, only the emotional fit as it came
hot or cold. The friendly act trod upon the hostile, the hostile upon
the friendly. Through the miserable summer the hostile was uppermost;
then with the autumn appeared the friendly mood, fortunate enough for
"the most feeble wretches" at Jamestown. Indians came laden with maize
and venison. The heat was a thing of the past; cool and bracing weather
appeared; and with it great flocks of wild fowl, "swans, geese, ducks
and cranes." Famine vanished, sickness decreased. The dead were dead.
Of the hundred and four persons left by Newport less than fifty had
survived. But these may be thought of as indeed seasoned.



CHAPTER IV. JOHN SMITH

With the cool weather began active exploration, the object in chief the
gathering from the Indians, by persuasion or trade or show of force,
food for the approaching winter. Here John Smith steps forward as
leader.

There begins a string of adventures of that hardy and romantic
individual. How much in Smith's extant narrations is exaggeration,
how much is dispossession of others' merits in favor of his own, it is
difficult now to say.* A thing that one little likes is his persistent
depreciation of his fellows. There is but one Noble Adventurer, and that
one is John Smith. On the other hand evident enough are his courage and
initiative, his ingenuity, and his rough, practical sagacity. Let us
take him at something less than his own valuation, but yet as valuable
enough. As for his adventures, real or fictitious, one may see in
them epitomized the adventures of many and many men, English,
French, Spanish, Dutch, blazers of the material path for the present
civilization.

     * Those who would strike John Smith from the list of
     historians will commend the author's caution to the reader
     before she lets the Captain tell his own tale. Whatever
     Smith may not have been, he was certainly a consummate
     raconteur. He belongs with the renowned story-tellers of the
     world, if not with the veracious chroniclers.--Editor.

In December, rather autumn than winter in this region, he starts with
the shallop and a handful of men up a tributary river that they have
learned to call the Chickahominy. He is going for corn, but there is
also an idea that he may hear news of that wished-for South Sea.

The Chickahominy proved itself a wonderland of swamp and tree-choked
streams. Somewhere up its chequered reaches Smith left the shallop with
men to guard it, and, taking two of the party with two Indian guides,
went on in a canoe up a narrower way. Presently those left with the
boat incautiously go ashore and are attacked by Indians. One is taken,
tortured, and slain. The others get back to their boat and so away, down
the Chickahominy and into the now somewhat familiar James. But Smith
with his two men, Robinson and Emry, are now alone in the wilderness, up
among narrow waters, brown marshes, fallen and obstructing tree trunks.
Now come the men-hunting Indians--the King of Pamaunck, says Smith, with
two hundred bowmen. Robinson and Emry are shot full of arrows. Smith
is wounded, but with his musket deters the foe, killing several of the
savages. His eyes upon them, he steps backward, hoping he may beat them
off till he shall recover the shallop, but meets with the ill chance of
a boggy and icy stream into which he stumbles, and here is taken.

See him now before "Opechancanough, King of Pamaunck!" Savages and
procedures of the more civilized with savages have, the world over, a
family resemblance. Like many a man before him and after, Smith casts
about for a propitiatory wonder. He has with him, so fortunately, "a
round ivory double-compass dial." This, with a genial manner, he would
present to Opechancanough. The savages gaze, cannot touch through the
glass the moving needle, grunt their admiration. Smith proceeds,
with gestures and what Indian words he knows, to deliver a scientific
lecture. Talking is best anyhow, will give them less time in which to
think of those men he shot. He tells them that the world is round, and
discourses about the sun and moon and stars and the alternation of day
and night. He speaks with eloquence of the nations of the earth, of
white men, yellow men, black men, and red men, of his own country and
its grandeurs, and would explain antipodes.

Apparently all is waste breath and of no avail, for in an hour see him
bound to a tree, a sturdy figure of a man, bearded and moustached, with
a high forehead, clad in shirt and jerkin and breeches and hosen and
shoon, all by this time, we may be sure, profoundly in need of repair.
The tree and Smith are ringed by Indians, each of whom has an arrow
fitted to his bow. Almost one can hear a knell ringing in the forest!
But Opechancanough, moved by the compass, or willing to hear more of
seventeenth-century science, raises his arm and stops the execution.
Unbinding Smith, they take him with them as a trophy. Presently all
reach their town of Orapaks.

Here he was kindly treated. He saw Indian dances, heard Indian orations.
The women and children pressed about him and admired him greatly. Bread
and venison were given him in such quantity that he feared that they
meant to fatten and eat him. It is, moreover, dangerous to be considered
powerful where one is scarcely so. A young Indian lay mortally ill, and
they took Smith to him and demanded that forthwith he be cured. If the
white man could kill--how they were not able to see--he could likewise
doubtless restore life. But the Indian presently died. His father,
crying out in fury, fell upon the stranger who could have done so much
and would not! Here also coolness saved the white man.

Smith was now led in triumph from town to town through the winter woods.
The James was behind him, the Chickahominy also; he was upon new great
rivers, the Pamunkey and the Rappahannock. All the villages were much
alike, alike the still woods, the sere patches from which the corn had
been taken, the bear, the deer, the foxes, the turkeys that were
met with, the countless wild fowl. Everywhere were the same curious,
crowding savages, the fires, the rustic cookery, the covering skins
of deer and fox and otter, the oratory, the ceremonial dances, the
manipulations of medicine men or priests--these last, to the Englishmen,
pure "devils with antique tricks." Days were consumed in this going from
place to place. At one point was produced a bag of gunpowder, gained
in some way from Jamestown. It was being kept with care to go into the
earth in the spring and produce, when summer came, some wonderful crop.

Opechancanough was a great chief, but higher than he moved Powhatan,
chief of chiefs. This Indian was yet a stranger to the English in
Virginia. Now John Smith was to make his acquaintance.

Werowocomoco stood upon a bluff on the north side of York River. Here
came Smith and his captors, around them the winter woods, before them
the broad blue river. Again the gathered Indians, men and women, again
the staring, the handling, the more or less uncomplimentary remarks;
then into the Indian ceremonial lodge he was pushed. Here sat the chief
of chiefs, Powhatan, and he had on a robe of raccoon skins with all
the tails hanging. About him sat his chief men, and behind these were
gathered women. All were painted, head and shoulders; all wore, bound
about the head, adornments meant to strike with beauty or with terror;
all had chains of beads. Smith does not report what he said to Powhatan,
or Powhatan to him. He says that the Queen of Appamatuck brought him
water for his hands, and that there was made a great feast. When this
was over, the Indians held a council. It ended in a death decree.
Incontinently Smith was seized, dragged to a great stone lying before
Powhatan, forced down and bound. The Indians made ready their clubs;
meaning to batter his brains out. Then, says Smith, occurred the
miracle.

A child of Powhatan's, a very young girl called Pocahontas, sprang from
among the women, ran to the stone, and with her own body sheltered that
of the Englishman....*

     * A vast amount of erudition has been expended by historical
     students to establish the truth or falsity of this
     Pocahontas story. The author has refrained from entering the
     controversy, preferring to let the story stand as it was
     told by Captain Smith in his "General History" (1624).--
     Editor.

What, in Powhatan's mind, of hesitation, wiliness, or good nature backed
his daughter's plea is not known. But Smith did not have his brains
beaten out. He was released, taken by some form of adoption into the
tribe, and set to using those same brains in the making of hatchets and
ornaments. A few days passed and he was yet further enlarged. Powhatan
longed for two of the great guns possessed by the white men and for a
grindstone. He would send Smith back to Jamestown if in return he
was sure of getting those treasures. It is to be supposed that Smith
promised him guns and grindstones as many as could be borne away.

So Werowocomoco saw him depart, twelve Indians for escort. He had
leagues to go, a night or two to spend upon the march. Lying in the
huge winter woods, he expected, on the whole, death before morning.
But "Almighty God mollified the hearts of those sterne barbarians with
compassion." And so he was restored to Jamestown, where he found more
dead than when he left. Some there undoubtedly welcomed him as a strong
man restored when there was need of strong men. Others, it seems, would
as lief that Pocahontas had not interfered.

The Indians did not get their guns and grindstones. But Smith loaded a
demi-culverin with stones and fired upon a great tree, icicle-hung. The
gun roared, the boughs broke, the ice fell rattling, the smoke spread,
the Indians cried out and cowered away. Guns and grindstone, Smith told
them, were too violent and heavy devils for them to carry from river to
river. Instead he gave them, from the trading store, gifts enticing to
the savage eye, and not susceptible of being turned against the donors.

Here at Jamestown in midwinter were more food and less mortal sickness
than in the previous fearful summer, yet no great amount of food, and
now suffering, too, from bitter cold. Nor had the sickness ended, nor
dissensions. Less than fifty men were all that held together England
and America--a frayed cord, the last strands of which might presently
part....

Then up the river comes Christopher Newport in the Francis and John, to
be followed some weeks later by the Phoenix. Here is new life--stores
for the settlers and a hundred new Virginians! How certain, at any
rate, is the exchange of talk of home and hair-raising stories of this
wilderness between the old colonists and the new! And certain is
the relief and the renewed hopes. Mourning turns to joy. Even a
conflagration that presently destroys the major part of the town can not
blast that felicity.

Again Newport and Smith and others went out to explore the country. They
went over to Werowocomoco and talked with Powhatan. He told them things
which they construed to mean that the South Sea was near at hand, and
they marked this down as good news for the home Council--still impatient
for gold and Cathay. On their return to Jamestown they found under way
new and stouter houses. The Indians were again friendly; they brought
venison and turkeys and corn. Smith says that every few days came
Pocahontas and attendant women bringing food.

Spring came again with the dogwood and the honeysuckle and the
strawberries, the gay, returning birds, the barred and striped and
mottled serpents. The colony was one year old. Back to England sailed
the Francis and John and the Phoenix, carrying home Edward-Maria
Wingfield, who has wearied of Virginia and will return no more.

What rests certain and praiseworthy in Smith is his thoroughness and
daring in exploration. This summer he went with fourteen others down the
river in an open boat, and so across the great bay, wide as a sea, to
what is yet called the Eastern Shore, the counties now of Accomac and
Northampton. Rounding Cape Charles these indefatigable explorers came
upon islets beaten by the Atlantic surf. These they named Smith's
Islands. Landing upon the main shore, they met "grimme and stout"
savages, who took them to the King of Accomac, and him they found civil
enough. This side of the great bay, with every creek and inlet, Smith
examined and set down upon the map he was making. Even if he could find
no gold for the Council at home, at least he would know what places were
suited for "harbours and habitations." Soon a great storm came up, and
they landed again, met yet other Indians, went farther, and were in
straits for fresh water. The weather became worse; they were in danger
of shipwreck--had to bail the boat continually. Indians gathered upon
the shore and discharged flights of arrows, but were dispersed by a
volley from the muskets. The bread the English had with them went bad.
Wind and weather were adverse; three or four of the fifteen fell ill,
but recovered. The weather improved; they came to the seven-mile-wide
mouth of "Patawomeck"--the Potomac. They turned their boat up this vast
stream. For a long time they saw upon the woody banks no savages. Then
without warning they came upon ambuscades of great numbers "so strangely
painted, grimed and disguised, shouting, yelling and crying, as we
rather supposed them so many divils." Smith, in midstream, ordered
musket-fire, and the balls went grazing over the water, and the terrible
sound echoed through the woods. The savages threw down their bows and
arrows and made signs of friendliness. The English went ashore, hostages
were exchanged, and a kind of amicableness ensued. After such sylvan
entertainment Smith and his men returned to the boat. The oars dipped
and rose, the bright water broke from them; and these Englishmen in Old
Virginia proceeded up the Potomac. Could they have seen--could they but
have seen before them, on the north bank, rising, like the unsubstantial
fabric of a dream, there above the trees, a vast, white Capitol shining
in the sunlight!

Far up the river, they noticed that the sand on the shore gleamed with
yellow spangles. They looked and saw high rocks, and they thought that
from these the rain had washed the glittering dust. Gold? Harbors they
had found--but what of gold? What, even, of Cathay?

Going down stream, they sought again those friendly Indians. Did they
know gold or silver? The Indians looked wise, nodded heads, and took
the visitors up a little tributary river to a rocky hill in which
"with shells and hatchets" they had opened as it were a mine. Here they
gathered a mineral which, when powdered, they sprinkled over themselves
and their idols "making them," says the relation, "like blackamoors
dusted over with silver." The white men filled their boat with as much
of this ore as they could carry. High were their hopes over it, but
when it was subsequently sent to London and assayed, it was found to be
worthless.

The fifteen now started homeward, out of Potomac and down the westward
side of Chesapeake. In their travels they saw, besides the Indians, all
manner of four-footed Virginians. Bears rolled their bulk through these
forests; deer went whither they would. The explorers might meet foxes
and catamounts, otter, beaver and marten, raccoon and opossum, wolf and
Indian dog. Winged Virginians made the forests vocal. The owl hooted
at night, and the whippoorwill called in the twilight. The streams
were filled with fish. Coming to the mouth of the Rappahannock, the
travelers' boat grounded upon sand, with the tide at ebb. Awaiting the
water that should lift them off, the fifteen began with their swords to
spear the fish among the reeds. Smith had the ill luck to encounter a
sting-ray, and received its barbed weapon through his wrist. There set
in a great swelling and torment which made him fear that death was at
hand. He ordered his funeral and a grave to be dug on a neighboring
islet. Yet by degrees he grew better and so out of torment, and withal
so hungry that he longed for supper, whereupon, with a light heart, he
had his late enemy the sting-ray cooked and ate him. They then named the
place Sting-ray Island and, the tide serving, got off the sand-bar and
down the bay, and so came home to Jamestown, having been gone seven
weeks.

Like Ulysses, Smith refuses to rust in inaction. A few days, and away
he is again, first up to Rappahannock, and then across the bay. On this
journey he and his men come up with the giant Susquehannocks, who are
not Algonquins but Iroquois. After many hazards in which the forest
and the savage play their part, Smith and his band again return to
Jamestown. In all this adventuring they have gained much knowledge of
the country and its inhabitants--but yet no gold, and no further news of
the South Sea or of far Cathay.

It was now September and the second summer with its toll of fever
victims was well-nigh over. Autumn and renewed energy were at hand. All
the land turned crimson and gold. At Jamestown building went forward,
together with the gathering of ripened crops, the felling of trees,
fishing and fowling, and trading for Indian corn and turkeys.

One day George Percy, heading a trading party down the river, saw coming
toward him a white sailed ship, the Mary and Margaret-it was Christopher
Newport again, with the second supply. Seventy colonists came over on
the Mary and Margaret, among them a fair number of men of note. Here
were Captain Peter Wynne and Richard Waldo, "old soldiers and valiant
gentlemen," Francis West, young brother of the Lord De La Warr, Rawley
Crashaw, John Codrington, Daniel Tucker, and others. This is indeed an
important ship. Among the laborers, the London Council had sent eight
Poles and Germans, skilled in their own country in the production of
pitch, tar, glass, and soap-ashes. Here, then, begin in Virginia other
blood strains than the English. And in the Mary and Margaret comes with
Master Thomas Forest his wife, Mistress Forest, and her maid, by name
Anne Burras. Apart from those lost ones of Raleigh's colony at Roanoke,
these are the first Englishwomen in Virginia. There may be guessed what
welcome they got, how much was made of them.

Christopher Newport had from that impatient London Council somewhat
strange orders. He was not to return without a lump of gold, or a
certain discovery of waters pouring into the South Sea, or some notion
gained of the fate of the lost colony of Roanoke. He had been given a
barge which could be taken to pieces and so borne around those Falls of
the Far West, then put together, and the voyage to the Pacific resumed.
Moreover, he had for Powhatan, whom the minds at home figured as a sort
of Asiatic Despot, a gilt crown and a fine ewer and basin, a bedstead,
and a gorgeous robe.

The easiest task, that of delivering Powhatan's present and placing
an idle crown upon that Indian's head who, among his own people, was
already sufficiently supreme, might be and was performed. And Newport
with a large party went again to the Falls of the Far West and miles
deep into the country beyond. Here they found Indians outside the
Powhatan Confederacy, but no South Sea, nor mines of gold and silver,
nor any news of the lost colony of Roanoke. In December Newport left
Virginia in the Mary and Margaret, and with him sailed Ratcliffe. Smith
succeeded to the presidency.

About this time John Laydon, a laborer, and Anne Burras, that maid of
Mistress Forest's, fell in love and would marry. So came about the first
English wedding in Virginia.

Winter followed with snow and ice, nigh two hundred people to feed, and
not overmuch in the larder with which to do it. Smith with George
Percy and Francis West and others went again to the Indians for
corn. Christmas found them weather-bound at Kecoughtan. "Wherever an
Englishman may be, and in whatever part of the world, he must keep
Christmas with feasting and merriment! And, indeed, we were never more
merrie, nor fedde on more plentie of good oysters, fish, flesh, wild
fowle and good bread; nor never had better fires in England than in the
drie, smokie houses of Kecoughtan!"

But despite this Christmas fare, there soon began quarrels, many and
intricate, with Powhatan and his brother Opechancanough.



CHAPTER V. THE "SEA ADVENTURE"

Experience is a great teacher. That London Company with Virginia to
colonize had now come to see how inadequate to the attempt were its
means and strength. Evidently it might be long before either gold mines
or the South Sea could be found. The company's ships were too slight and
few; colonists were going by the single handful when they should go by
the double. Something was at fault in the management of the enterprise.
The quarrels in Virginia were too constant, the disasters too frequent.
More money, more persons interested with purse and mind, a great
company instead of a small, a national cast to the enterprise these were
imperative needs. In the press of such demands the London Company passed
away. In 1609 under new letters patent was born the Virginia Company.

The members and shareholders in this corporation touch through and
through the body of England at that day. First names upon the roll come
Robert Cecil, Thomas Howard, Henry Wriothesley, William Herbert, Henry
Clinton, Richard Sackville, Thomas Cecil, Philip Herbert--Earls of
Salisbury, Suffolk, Southampton, Pembroke, Lincoln, Dorset, Exeter,
and Montgomery. Then follow a dozen peers, the Lord Bishop of Bath and
Wells, a hundred knights, many gentlemen, one hundred and ten merchants,
certain physicians and clergymen, old soldiers of the Continental wars,
sea-captains and mariners, and a small host of the unclassified. In
addition shares were taken by fifty-six London guilds or industrial
companies. Here are the Companies of the Tallow and Wax Chandlers, the
Armorers and Girdlers, Cordwayners and Carpenters, Masons, Plumbers,
Founders, Poulterers, Cooks, Coopers, Tylers and Brick Layers, Bowyers
and Vinters, Merchant Taylors, Blacksmiths and Weavers, Mercers,
Grocers, Turners, Gardeners, Dyers, Scriveners, Fruiterers, Plaisterers,
Brown Bakers, Imbroiderers, Musicians, and many more.

The first Council appointed by the new charter had fifty-two members,
fourteen of whom sat in the English House of Lords, and twice that
number in the Commons. Thus was Virginia well linked to Crown and
Parliament.

This great commercial company had sovereign powers within Virginia. The
King should have his fifth part of all ore of gold and silver; the laws
and religion of England should be upheld, and no man let go to Virginia
who had not first taken the oath of supremacy. But in the wide field
beside all this the President--called the Treasurer--and the Council,
henceforth to be chosen out of and by the whole body of subscribers,
had full sway. No longer should there be a second Council sitting in
Virginia, but a Governor with power, answerable only to the Company at
home. That Company might tax and legislate within the Virginian field,
punish the ill-doer or "rebel," and wage war, if need be, against Indian
or Spaniard:

One of the first actions of the newly constituted body was to seek
remedy for the customary passage by way of the West Indies--so long and
so beset by dangers. They sent forth a small ship under Captain Samuel
Argall, with instructions "to attempt a direct and cleare passage, by
leaving the Canaries to the East, and from thence to run a straight
westerne course.... And so to make an experience of the Winds and
Currents which have affrighted all undertakers by the North."

This Argall, a young man with a stirring and adventurous life behind him
and before him, took his ship the indicated way. He made the voyage
in nine weeks, of which two were spent becalmed, and upon his return
reported that it might be made in seven, "and no apparent inconvenience
in the way." He brought to the great Council of the Company a story of
necessity and distress at Jamestown, and the Council lays much of the
blame for that upon "the misgovernment of the Commanders, by dissention
and ambition among themselves," and upon the idleness of the general
run, "active in nothing but adhearing to factions and parts." The
Council, sitting afar from a savage land, is probably much too severe.
But the "factions and parts" cannot easily be denied.

Before Argall's return, the Company had commissioned as Governor of
Virginia Sir Thomas Gates, and had gathered a fleet of seven ships and
two pinnaces with Sir George Somers as Admiral, in the ship called the
Sea Adventure, and Christopher Newport as Vice-Admiral. All weighed
anchor from Falmouth early in June and sailed by the newly tried course,
south to the Canaries and then across. These seven ships carried five
hundred colonists, men, women, and children.

On St. James's day there rose and broke a fearsome storm. Two days and
nights it raged, and it scattered that fleet of seven. Gates, Somers,
and Newport with others of "rancke and quality" were upon the Sea
Adventure. How fared this ship with one attendant pinnace we shall come
to see presently. But the other ships, driven to and fro, at last found
a favorable wind, and in August they sighted Virginia. On the eleventh
of that month they came, storm-beaten and without Governor or Admiral
or Sea Adventure, into "our Bay" and at last to "the King's River and
Town." Here there swarmed from these ships nigh three hundred persons,
meeting and met by the hundred dwelling at Jamestown. This was the third
supply, but it lacked the hundred or so upon the Sea Adventure and the
pinnace, and it lacked a head. "Being put ashore without their Governor
or any order from him (all the Commissioners and principal persons being
aboard him) no man would acknowledge a superior."

With this multitude appeared once more in Virginia the three ancient
councilors--Ratcliffe, Archer, and Martin. Apparently here came fresh
fuel for factions. Who should rule, and who should be ruled? Here is
an extremely old and important question, settled in history only to be
unsettled again. Everywhere it rises, dust on Time's road, and is laid
only to rise again.

Smith was still President. Who was in the right and who in the wrong in
these ancient quarrels, the recital of which fills the pages of Smith
and of other men, is hard now to be determined. But Jamestown became a
place of turbulence. Francis West was sent with a considerable number to
the Falls of the Far West to make there some kind of settlement. For a
like purpose Martin and Percy were dispatched to the Nansemond River.
All along the line there was bitter falling out. The Indians became
markedly hostile. Smith was up the river, quarreling with West and his
men. At last he called them "wrongheaded asses," flung himself into
his boat, and made down the river to Jamestown. Yet even so he found no
peace, for, while he was asleep in the boat, by some accident or other
a spark found its way to his powder pouch. The powder exploded. Terribly
hurt, he leaped overboard into the river, whence he was with difficulty
rescued.

Smith was now deposed by Ratcliffe, Archer, and Martin, because, "being
an ambityous, onworthy, and vayneglorious fellowe," say his detractors,
"he wolde rule all and ingrose all authority into his own hands." Be
this as it may, Smith was put on board one of the ships which were about
to sail for England. Wounded, and with none at Jamestown able to heal
his hurt, he was no unwilling passenger. Thus he departed, and Virginia
knew Captain John Smith no more. Some liked him and his ways, some liked
him not nor his ways either. He wrote of his own deeds and praised them
highly, and saw little good in other mankind, though here and there he
made an exception. Evident enough are faults of temper. But he had great
courage and energy and at times a lofty disinterestedness.

Again winter drew on at Jamestown, and with it misery on misery. George
Percy, now President, lay ill and unable to keep order. The multitude,
"unbridled and heedless," pulled this way and that. Before the cold had
well begun, what provision there was in the storehouse became exhausted.
That stream of corn from the Indians in which the colonists had put
dependence failed to flow. The Indians themselves began systematically
to spoil and murder. Ratcliffe and fourteen with him met death while
loading his barge with corn upon the Pamunkey. The cold grew worse.
By midwinter there was famine. The four hundred--already noticeably
dwindled--dwindled fast and faster. The cold was severe; the Indians
were in the woods; the weakened bodies of the white men pined and
shivered. They broke up the empty houses to make fires to warm
themselves. They began to die of hunger as well as by Indian arrows.
On went the winter, and every day some died. Tales of cannibalism are
told....This was the Starving Time.

When the leaves were red and gold, England-in-America had a population
of four hundred and more. When the dogwood and the strawberry bloomed,
England-in-America had a population of but sixty.

Somewhat later than this time there came from the pen of Shakespeare a
play dealing with a tempest and shipwreck and a magical isle and rescue
thereon. The bright spirit Ariel speaks of "the still-vex'd Bermoothes."
These were islands "two hundred leagues from any continent," named after
a Spanish Captain Bermudez who had landed there. Once there had been
Indians, but these the Spaniards had slain or taken as slaves. Now the
islands were desolate, uninhabited, "forlorn and unfortunate." Chance
vessels might touch, but the approach was dangerous. There grew rumors
of pirates, and then of demons. "The Isles of Demons," was the name
given to them. "The most forlorn and unfortunate place in the world" was
the description that fitted them in those distant days:

All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement Inhabits here: some heavenly
power guide us Out of this fearful country.

When Shakespeare so wrote, there was news in England and talk went to
and fro of the shipwreck of the Sea Adventure upon the rocky teeth of
the Bermoothes, "uninhabitable and almost inaccessible," and of the
escape and dwelling there for months of Gates and Somers and the
colonists in that ship. It is generally assumed that this incident
furnished timber for the framework of The Tempest.

The storm that broke on St. James's Day, scattering the ships of the
third supply, drove the Sea Adventure here and there at will. Upon her
watched Gates and Somers and Newport, above a hundred men, and a few
women and children. There sprang a leak; all thought of death. Then
rose a cry "Land ho!" The storm abated, but the wind carried the Sea
Adventure upon this shore and grounded her upon a reef. A certain R.
Rich, gentleman, one of the voyagers, made and published a ballad upon
the whole event. If it is hardly Shakespearean music, yet it is not
devoid of interest.

... The Seas did rage, the windes did blowe,
        Distressed were they then;
     Their shippe did leake, her tacklings breake,
        In daunger were her men;
     But heaven was pylotte in this storme,
        And to an Iland neare,
     Bermoothawes called, conducted them,
        Which did abate their feare.

Using the ship's boats they got to shore, though with toil and danger.
Here they found no sprites nor demons, nor even men, but a fair,
half-tropical verdure and, running wild, great numbers of swine.

     And then on shoare the iland came
        Inhabited by hogges,
     Some Foule and tortoyses there were,
        They only had one dogge,
     To kill these swyne, to yield them foode,
        That little had to eate.
     Their store was spent and all things scant,
        Alas! they wanted meate.

     They did not, however, starve.

     A thousand hogges that dogge did kill
        Their hunger to sustaine.

Ten months the Virginia colonists lived among the "still-vex'd
Bermoothes." The Sea Adventure was but a wreck pinned between the reefs.
No sail was seen upon the blue water. Where they were thrown, there
Gates and Somers and Newport and all must stay for a time and make the
best of it. They builded huts and thatched them, and they brought from
the wrecked ship, pinned but half a mile from land, stores of many
kinds. The clime proved of the blandest, fairest; with fishing and
hunting they maintained themselves. Days, weeks, and months went by.
They had a minister, Master Buck. They brought from the ship a bell and
raised it for a church-bell. A marriage, a few deaths, the birth of two
children these were events on the island. One of these children, the
daughter of John Rolfe, gentleman, and his wife, was christened Bermuda.
Gates and Somers held kindly sway. The colonists lived in plenty, peace,
and ease. But for all that, they were shipwrecked folk, and far, far out
of the world, and they longed for the old ways and their own kin. Day
followed day, but no sail would show to bear them thence; and so at
last, taking what they could from the forests of the island, and from
the Sea Adventure, they set about to become shipwrights.

     And there two gallant pynases,
        Did build of Seader-tree,
     The brave Deliverance one was call'd,
        Of seaventy tonne was shee,
     The other Patience had to name,
        Her burthen thirty tonne....

... The two and forty weekes being past
        They hoyst sayle and away;
     Their shippes with hogges well freighted were,
        Their harts with mickle joy.

And so to Virginia came...

What they found when they came to Virginia was dolor enough. On
Jamestown strand they beheld sixty skeletons "who had eaten all the
quick things that weare there, and some of them had eaten snakes and
adders." Somers, Gates, and Newport, on entering the town, found it
"rather as the ruins of some auntient fortification than that any people
living might now inhabit it."

A pitiable outcome, this, of all the hopes of fair "harbours and
habitations," of golden dreams, and farflung dominion. All those whom
Raleigh had sent to Roanoke were lost or had perished. Those who had
named and had first dwelled in Jamestown were in number about a hundred.
To these had been added, during the first year or so, perhaps two
hundred more. And the ships that had parted from the Sea Adventure had
brought in three hundred. First and last, not far from seven hundred
English folk had come to live in Virginia. And these skeletons eating
snakes and adders were all that remained of that company; all those
others had died miserably and their hopes were ashes with them.

What might Sir Thomas Gates, the Governor, do? "That which added most to
his sorowe, and not a little startled him, was the impossibilitie.. how
to amend one whitt of this. His forces were not of habilitie to revenge
upon the Indian, nor his owne supply (now brought from the Bermudas)
sufficient to relieve his people." So he called a Council and listened
in turn to Sir George Somers, to Christopher Newport, and to "the
gentlemen and Counsaile of the former Government." The end and upshot
was that none could see other course than to abandon the country.
England-in-America had tried and failed, and had tried again and failed.
God, or the course of Nature, or the current of History was against her.
Perhaps in time stronger forces and other attempts might yet issue from
England. But now the hour had come to say farewell!

Upon the bosom of the river swung two pinnaces, the Discovery and the
Virginia, left by the departing ships months before, and the Deliverance
and the Patience, the Bermuda pinnaces. Thus the English abandoned the
little town that was but three years old. Aboard the four small ships
they went, and down the broad river, between the flowery shores, they
sailed away. Doubtless under the trees on either hand were Indians
watching this retreat of the invaders of their forests. The plan of the
departing colonists was to turn north, when they had reached the sea,
and make for Newfoundland, where they might perhaps meet with English
fishing ships. So they sailed down the river, and doubtless many
hearts were heavy and sad, but others doubtless were full of joy and
thankfulness to be going back to an older home than Virginia.

The river broadened toward Chesapeake--and then, before them, what did
they see? What deliverance for those who had held on to the uttermost?
They saw the long boat of an English ship coming toward them with
flashing oars, bringing news of comfort and relief. There, indeed, off
Point Comfort lay three ships, the De La Warr, the Blessing, and the
Hercules, and they brought, with a good company and good stores, Sir
Thomas West, Lord De La Warr, appointed, over Gates, Lord Governor and
Captain General, by land and sea, of the Colony of Virginia.

The Discovery, the Virginia, the Patience, and the Deliverance thereupon
put back to that shore they thought to have left forever. Two days
later, on Sunday the 10th of June, 1610, there anchored before Jamestown
the De La Warr, the Blessing, and the Hercules; and it was thus that the
new Lord Governor wrote home: "I... in the afternoon went ashore, where
after a sermon made by Mr. Buck... I caused my commission to be read,
upon which Sir Thomas Gates delivered up...unto me his owne commission,
both patents, and the counsell seale; and then I delivered some few
wordes unto the Company.... and after... did constitute and give place
of office and chardge to divers Captaines and gentlemen and elected unto
me a counsaile."

     The dead was alive again. Saith Rich's ballad:

     And to the adventurers* thus he writes,
        "Be not dismayed at all,
     For scandall cannot doe us wrong,
        God will not let us fall.
     Let England knowe our willingnesse,
        For that our worke is good,
     WE HOPE TO PLANT A NATION
        WHERE NONE BEFORE HATH STOOD."

          * The Virginia Company.



CHAPTER VI. SIR THOMAS DALE

In a rebuilded Jamestown, Lord De La Warr, of "approved courage, temper
and experience," held for a short interval dignified, seigneurial sway,
while his restless associates adventured far and wide. Sir George Somers
sailed back to the Bermudas to gather a cargo of the wild swine of those
woods, but illness seized him there, and he died among the beautiful
islands. That Captain Samuel Argall who had traversed for the Company
the short road from the Canaries took up Smith's fallen mantle and
carried on the work of exploration. It was he who found, and named for
the Lord Governor, Delaware Bay. He went up the Potomac and traded for
corn; rescued an English boy from the Indians; had brushes with the
savages. In the autumn back to England with a string of ships went that
tried and tested seafarer Christopher Newport. Virginia wanted many
things, and chiefly that the Virginia Company should excuse defect and
remember promise. So Gates sailed with Newport to make true report and
guide exertion. Six months passed, and the Lord Governor himself fell
ill and must home to England. So away he, too, went and for seven years
until his death ruled from that distance through a deputy governor. De
La Warr was a man of note and worth, old privy councilor of Elizabeth
and of James, soldier in the Low Countries, strong Protestant and
believer in England-in-America. Today his name is borne by a great
river, a great bay, and by one of the United States.

In London, the Virginia Company, having listened to Gates, projected
a fourth supply for the colony. Of those hundreds who had perished in
Virginia, many had been true and intelligent men, and again many perhaps
had been hardly that. But the Virginia Company was now determined to
exercise for the future a discrimination. It issued a broadside,
making known that it was sending a new supply of men and all necessary
provision in a fleet of good ships, under the conduct of Sir Thomas
Gates and Sir Thomas Dale, and that it was not intended any more to
burden the action with "vagrant and unnecessary persons... but honest
and industrious men, as Carpenters, Smiths, Coopers, Fishermen, Tanners,
Shoemakers, Shipwrights, Brickmen, Gardeners, Husbandmen, and laboring
men of all sorts that... shall be entertained for the Voyage upon such
termes as their qualitie and fitnesse shall deserve." Yet, in spite of
precautions, some of the other sort continued to creep in with the sober
and industrious. Master William Crashaw, in a sermon upon the Virginia
venture, remarks that "they who goe... be like for aught I see to those
who are left behind, even of all sorts better and worse!" This probably
hits the mark.

The Virginia Company meant at last to have order in Virginia. To this
effect, a new office was created and a strong man was found to fill it.
Gates remained De La Warr's deputy governor, but Sir Thomas Dale went
as Marshal of Virginia. The latter sailed in March, 1611, with "three
ships, three hundred people, twelve kine, twenty goats, and all things
needful for the colony." Gates followed in May with other ships, three
hundred colonists, and much cattle.

For the next few years Dale becomes, in effect, ruler of Virginia. He
did much for the colony, and therefore, in that far past that is not
so distant either, much for the United States--a man of note, and worth
considering.

Dale had seen many years of service in the Low Countries. He was still
in Holland when the summons came to cross the ocean in the service of
the Virginia Company. On the recommendation of Henry, Prince of Wales,
the States-General of the United Netherlands consented "that Captain
Thomas Dale (destined by the King of Great Britain to be employed in
Virginia in his Majesty's service) may absent himself from his company
for the space of three years, and that his said company shall remain
meanwhile vacant, to be resumed by him if he think proper."

This man had a soldier's way with him and an iron will. For five years
in Virginia he exhibited a certain stern efficiency which was perhaps
the best support and medicine that could have been devised. At the end
of that time, leaving Virginia, he did not return to the Dutch service,
but became Admiral of the fleet of the English East India Company, thus
passing from one huge historic mercantile company to another. With six
ships he sailed for India. Near Java, the English and the Dutch having
chosen to quarrel, he had with a Dutch fleet "a cruel, bloody fight."
Later, when peace was restored, the East India Company would have given
him command of an allied fleet of English and Dutch ships, the objective
being trade along the coast of Malabar and an attempt to open commerce
with the Chinese. But Sir Thomas Dale was opening commerce with a
vaster, hidden land, for at Masulipatam he died. "Whose valor," says his
epitaph, "having shined in the Westerne, was set in the Easterne India."

But now in Maytime of 1611 Dale was in Virginian waters. By this day,
beside the main settlement of Jamestown, there were at Cape Henry and
Point Comfort small forts garrisoned with meager companies of men. Dale
made pause at these, setting matters in order, and then, proceeding up
the river, he came to Jamestown and found the people gathered to receive
him. Presently he writes home to the Company a letter that gives a view
of the place and its needs. Any number of things must be done, requiring
continuous and hard work, "as, namely, the reparation of the falling
Church and so of the Store-house, a stable for our horses, a munition
house, a Powder house, a new well for the amending of the most
unwholesome water which the old afforded. Brick to be made, a sturgion
house... a Block house to be raised on the North side of our back river
to prevent the Indians from killing our cattle, a house to be set up to
lodge our cattle in the winter, and hay to be appointed in his due time
to be made, a smith's forge to be perfected, caske for our Sturgions
to be made, and besides private gardens for each man common gardens
for hemp and flax and such other seeds, and lastly a bridge to land our
goods dry and safe upon, for most of which I take present order."

Dale would have agreed with Dr. Watts that

     Satan finds some mischief still
        For idle hands to do!

If we of the United States today will call to mind certain Western small
towns of some decades ago--if we will review them as they are pictured
in poem and novel and play--we may receive, as it were out of the tail
of the eye, an impression of some aspects of these western plantings of
the seventeenth century. The dare-devil, the bully, the tenderfoot, the
gambler, the gentleman-desperado had their counterparts in Virginia. So
had the cool, indomitable sheriff and his dependable posse, the friends
generally of law and order. Dale may be viewed as the picturesque
sheriff of this earlier age.

But it must be remembered that this Virginia was of the seventeenth, not
of the nineteenth century. And law had cruel and idiot faces as well as
faces just and wise. Hitherto the colony possessed no written statutes.
The Company now resolved to impose upon the wayward an iron restraint.
It fell to Dale to enforce the regulations known as "Lawes and Orders,
dyvine, politique, and martiall for the Colonye of Virginia"--not
English civil law simply, but laws "chiefly extracted out of the Lawes
for governing the army in the Low Countreys." The first part of this
code was compiled by William Strachey; the latter part is thought to
have been the work of Sir Edward Cecil, Sir Thomas Gates, and Dale
himself, approved and accepted by the Virginia Company. Ten years
afterwards, defending itself before a Committee of Parliament, the
Company through its Treasurer declared "the necessity of such laws, in
some cases ad terrorem, and in some to be truly executed."

Seventeenth-century English law herself was terrible enough in all
conscience, but "Dale's Laws" went beyond. Offences ranged from failure
to attend church and idleness to lese majeste. The penalties were
gross--cruel whippings, imprisonments, barbarous puttings to death. The
High Marshal held the unruly down with a high hand.

But other factors than this Draconian code worked at last toward order
in this English West. Dale was no small statesman, and he played ferment
against ferment. Into Virginia now first came private ownership of land.
So much was given to each colonist, and care of this booty became
to each a preoccupation. The Company at home sent out more and more
settlers, and more and more of the industrious, peace-loving sort. By
1612 the English in America numbered about eight hundred. Dale projected
another town, and chose for its site the great horseshoe bend in the
river a few miles below the Falls of the Far West, at a spot we now call
Dutch Gap. Here Dale laid out a town which he named Henricus after the
Prince of Wales, and for its citizens he drafted from Jamestown three
hundred persons. To him also are due Bermuda and Shirley Hundreds and
Dale's Gift over on the Eastern Shore. As the Company sent over more
colonists, there began to show, up and down the James though at far
intervals, cabins and clearings made by white men, set about with a
stockade, and at the river edge a rude landing and a fastened boat. The
restless search for mines of gold and silver now slackened. Instead eyes
turned for wealth to the kingdom of the plant and tree, and to fur trade
and fisheries.

     * Hitherto there had been no trading or landholding by
     individuals. All the colonists contributed the products of
     their toil to the common store and received their supplies
     from the Company. The adventurers (stockholders) contributed
     money to the enterprise; the colonists, themselves and their
     labor.

Those ships that brought colonists were in every instance expected
to return to England laden with the commodities of Virginia. At first
cargoes of precious ores were looked for. These failing, the Company
must take from Virginia what lay at hand and what might be suited to
English needs. In 1610 the Company issued a paper of instructions upon
this subject of Virginia commodities. The daughter was expected to
send to the mother country sassafras root, bay berries, puccoon,
sarsaparilla, walnut, chestnut, and chinquapin oil, wine, silk grass,
beaver cod, beaver and otter skins, clapboard of oak and walnut, tar,
pitch, turpentine, and powdered sturgeon.

It might seem that Virginia was headed to become a land of fishers, of
foresters, and vine dressers, perhaps even, when the gold should be
at last discovered, of miners. At home, the colonizing merchants and
statesmen looked for some such thing. In return for what she laded into
ships, Virginia was to receive English-made goods, and to an especial
degree woolen goods, "a very liberall utterance of our English cloths
into a maine country described to be bigger than all Europe." There was
to be direct trade, country kind for country kind, and no specie to be
taken out of England. The promoters at home doubtless conceived a hardy
and simple trans-Atlantic folk of their own kindred, planters for their
own needs, steady consumers of the plainer sort of English wares, steady
gatherers, in return, of necessaries for which England otherwise must
trade after a costly fashion with lands which were not always friendly.
A simple, sturdy, laborious Virginia, white men and Indians. If this was
their dream, reality was soon to modify it.


A new commodity of unsuspected commercial value began now to be grown in
garden-plots along the James--the "weed" par excellence, tobacco. That
John Rolfe who had been shipwrecked on the Sea Adventure was now a
planter in Virginia. His child Bermuda had died in infancy, and his wife
soon after their coming to Jamestown. Rolfe remained, a young man, a
good citizen, and a Christian. And he loved tobacco. On that trivial
fact hinges an important chapter in the economic history of America.
In 1612 Rolfe planted tobacco in his own garden, experimented with its
culture, and prophesied that the Virginian weed would rank with the
best Spanish. It was now a shorter plant, smaller-leafed and
smaller-flowered, but time and skilful gardening would improve it.

England had known tobacco for thirty years, owing its introduction to
Raleigh. At first merely amused by the New World rarity, England was
now by general use turning a luxury into a necessity. More and more she
received through Dutch and Spanish ships tobacco from the Indies. Among
the English adventurers to Virginia some already knew the uses of the
weed; others soon learned from the Indians. Tobacco was perhaps not
indigenous to Virginia, but had probably come through southern tribes
who in turn had gained it from those who knew it in its tropic habitat.
Now, however, tobacco was grown by all Virginia Indians, and
was regarded as the Great Spirit's best gift. In the final happy
hunting-ground, kings, werowances, and priests enjoyed it forever. When,
in the time after the first landing, the Indians brought gifts to the
adventurers as to beings from a superior sphere, they offered tobacco as
well as comestibles like deer-meat and mulberries. Later, in England and
in Virginia, there was some suggestion that it might be cultivated among
other commodities. But the Company, not to be diverted from the path
to profits, demanded from Virginia necessities and not new-fangled
luxuries. Nevertheless, a little tobacco was sent over to England, and
then a little more, and then a larger quantity. In less than five years
it had become a main export; and from that time to this profoundly has
it affected the life of Virginia and, indeed, of the United States.

This then is the wide and general event with which John Rolfe is
connected. But there is also a narrower, personal happening that has
pleased all these centuries. Indian difficulties yet abounded, but Dale,
administrator as well as man of Mars, wound his way skilfully through
them all. Powhatan brooded to one side, over there at Werowocomoco.
Captain Samuel Argall was again in Virginia, having brought over
sixty-two colonists in his ship, the Treasurer. A bold and restless man,
explorer no less than mariner, he again went trading up the Potomac,
and visited upon its banks the village of Japazaws, kinsman of Powhatan.
Here he found no less a personage than Powhatan's daughter Pocahontas.
An idea came into Argall's active and somewhat unscrupulous brain.
He bribed Japazaws with a mighty gleaming copper kettle, and by that
chief's connivance took Pocahontas from the village above the Potomac.
He brought her captive in his boat down the Chesapeake to the mouth of
the James and so up the river to Jamestown, here to be held hostage for
an Indian peace. This was in 1613.

Pocahontas stayed by the James, in the rude settlers' town, which may
have seemed to the Indian girl stately and wonderful enough. Here Rolfe
made her acquaintance, here they talked together, and here, after some
scruples on his part as to "heathennesse," they were married. He writes
of "her desire to be taught and instructed in the knowledge of God; her
capableness of understanding; her aptnesse and willingnesse to
recieve anie good impression, and also the spiritual, besides her owne
incitements stirring me up hereunto." First she was baptized, receiving
the name Rebecca, and then she was married to Rolfe in the flower-decked
church at Jamestown. Powhatan was not there, but he sent young chiefs,
her brothers, in his place. Rolfe had lands and cabins thereupon up
the river near Henricus. He called this place Varina, the best Spanish
tobacco being Varinas. Here he and Pocahontas dwelled together "civilly
and lovingly." When two years had passed the couple went with their
infant son upon a visit to England. There court and town and country
flocked to see the Indian "princess." After a time she and Rolfe would
go back to Virginia. But at Gravesend, before their ship sailed, she was
stricken with smallpox and died, making "a religious and godly end," and
there at Gravesend she is buried. Her son, Thomas Rolfe, who was brought
up in England, returned at last to Virginia and lived out his life there
with his wife and children. Today no small host of Americans have for
ancestress the daughter of Powhatan. In England-in-America the immediate
effect of the marriage was really to procure an Indian peace outlasting
Pocahontas's brief life.

In Dale's years there rises above the English horizon the cloud of New
France. The old, disaster-haunted Huguenot colony in Florida was a thing
of the past, to be mourned for when the Spaniard wiped it out--for
at that time England herself was not in America. But now that she
was established there, with some hundreds of men in a Virginia that
stretched from Spanish Florida to Nova Scotia, the French shadow seemed
ominous. And just in this farther region, amid fir-trees and snow, upon
the desolate Bay of Fundy, the French for some years had been keeping
the breath of life in a huddle of cabins named Port Royal. More than
this, and later than the Port Royal building, Frenchmen--Jesuits
that!--were trying a settlement on an island now called Mount Desert,
off a coast now named Maine. The Virginia Company-doubtless with some
reference back to the King and Privy Council--De La Warr, Gates, the
deputy governor, and Dale, the High Marshal, appear to have been of
one mind as to these French settlements. Up north there was still
Virginia--in effect, England! Hands off, therefore, all European peoples
speaking with an un-English tongue!

Now it happened about this time that Captain Samuel Argall received a
commission "to go fishing," and that he fished off that coast that is
now the coast of Maine, and brought his ship to anchor by Mount Desert.
Argall, a swift and high-handed person, fished on dry land. He swept
into his net the Jesuits on Mount Desert, set half of them in an open
boat to meet with what ship they might, and brought the other half
captive to Jamestown. Later, he appeared before Port Royal, where
he burned the cabins, slew the cattle, and drove into the forest the
settler Frenchmen. But Port Royal and the land about it called Acadia,
though much hurt, survived Argall's fishing.*

     * Argall, on his fishing trip, has been credited with
     attacking not only the French in Acadia but the Dutch
     traders on Manhattan. But there are grounds for doubt if he
     did the latter.

There was also on Virginia in these days the shadow of Spain. In 1611
the English had found upon the beach near Point Comfort three Spaniards
from a Spanish caravel which, as the Englishmen had learned with alarm,
"was fitted with a shallop necessarie and propper to discover freshetts,
rivers, and creekes." They took the three prisoner and applied for
instructions to Dale, who held them to be spies and clapped them into
prison at Point Comfort.

That Dale's suspicions were correct, is proved by a letter which the
King of Spain wrote in cipher to the Spanish Ambassador in London
ordering him to confer with the King as to the liberty of three
prisoners whom Englishmen in Virginia have captured. The three are "the
Alcayde Don Diego de Molino, Ensign Marco Antonio Perez, and Francisco
Lembri an English pilot, who by my orders went to reconnoitre those
ports." Small wonder that Dale was apprehensive. "What may be the
daunger of this unto us," he wrote home, "who are here so few, so weake,
and unfortified,... I refer me to your owne honorable knowledg."

Months pass, and the English Ambassador to Spain writes from Madrid that
he "is not hasty to advertise anything upon bare rumours, which hath
made me hitherto forbeare to write what I had generally heard of their
intents against Virginia, but now I have been... advertised that without
question they will speedily attempt against our plantation there. And
that it is a thing resolved of, that ye King of Spain must run
any hazard with England rather than permit ye English to settle
there....Whatsoever is attempted, I conceive will be from ye Havana."

Rumors fly back and forth. The next year 1613--the Ambassador writes
from Madrid: "They have latelie had severall Consultations about our
Plantation in Virginia. The resolution is--That it must be removed, but
they thinke it fitt to suspend the execution of it,... for that they are
in hope that it will fall of itselfe."

The Spanish hope seemed, at this time, not at all without foundation.
Members of the Virginia Company had formed the Somers Islands Company
named for Somers the Admiral--and had planted a small colony in Bermuda
where the Sea Adventure had been wrecked. Here were fair, fertile
islands without Indians, and without the diseases that seemed to rise,
no man knew how, from the marshes along those lower reaches of the
great river James in Virginia. Young though it was, the new plantation
"prospereth better than that of Virginia, and giveth greater
incouragement to prosecute yt." In England there arose, from some
concerned, the cry to Give up Virginia that has proved a project awry!
As Gates was once about to remove thence every living man, so truly
they might "now removed to these more hopeful islands!" The Spanish
Ambassador is found writing to the Spanish King: "Thus they are here
discouraged... on account of the heavy expenses they have incurred, and
the disappointment, that there is no passage from there to the South
Sea... nor mines of gold or silver." This, be it noted, was before
tobacco was discovered to be an economic treasure.

The Elizabeth from London reached Virginia in May, 1613. It brought to
the colony news of Bermuda, and incidentally of that new notion brewing
in the mind of some of the Company. When the Elizabeth, after a month in
Virginia, turned homeward, she carried a vigorous letter from Dale, the
High Marshal, to Sir Thomas Smith, Treasurer of the Company.

"Let me tell you all at home [writes Dale] this one thing, and I pray
remember it; if you give over this country and loose it, you, with your
wisdoms, will leap such a gudgeon as our state hath not done the like
since they lost the Kingdom of France; be not gulled with the clamorous
report of base people; believe Caleb and Joshua; if the glory of God
have no power with them and the conversion of these poor infidels, yet
let the rich mammons' desire egge them on to inhabit these countries.
I protest to you, by the faith of an honest man, the more I range the
country the more I admire it. I have seen the best countries in Europe;
I protest to you, before the Living God, put them all together, this
country will be equivalent unto them if it be inhabited with good
people."

If ever Mother England seriously thought of moving Virginia into
Bermuda, the idea was now given over. Spain, suspending the sword until
Virginia "will fall of itselfe," saw that sword rust away.

Five years in all Dale ruled Virginia. Then, personal and family matters
calling, he sailed away home to England, to return no more. Soon his
star "having shined in the Westerne, was set in the Easterne India." At
the helm in Virginia he left George Yeardley, an honest, able man. But
in England, what was known as the "court party" in the Company managed
to have chosen instead for De La Warr's deputy governor, Captain Samuel
Argall. It proved an unfortunate choice. Argall, a capable and daring
buccaneer, fastened on Virginia as on a Spanish galleon. For a year
he ruled in his own interest, plundering and terrorizing. At last the
outcry against him grew so loud that it had to be listened to across the
Atlantic. Lord De La Warr was sent out in person to deal with matters
but died on the way; and Captain Yeardley, now knighted and appointed
Governor, was instructed to proceed against the incorrigible Argall. But
Argall had already departed to face his accusers in England.



CHAPTER VII. YOUNG VIRGINIA

The choice of Sir Edwyn Sandys as Treasurer of the Virginia Company in
1619 marks a turning-point in the history of both Company and colony. At
a moment when James I was aiming at absolute monarchy and was menacing
Parliament, Sandys and his party--the Liberals of the day--turned the
sessions of the Company into a parliament where momentous questions of
state and colonial policy were freely debated. The liberal spirit of
Sandys cast a beam of light, too, across the Atlantic. When Governor
Yeardley stepped ashore at Jamestown in mid-April, he brought with him,
as the first fruits of the new regime, no less a boon than the grant of
a representative assembly.

There were to be in Virginia, subject to the Company, subject in its
turn to the Crown, two "Supreme Councils," one of which was to consist
of the Governor and his councilors chosen by the Company in England.
The other was to be elected by the colonists, two representatives or
burgesses from each distinct settlement. Council and House of Burgesses
were to constitute the upper and lower houses of the General Assembly.
The whole had power to legislate upon Virginian affairs within the
bounds of the colony, but the Governor in Virginia and the Company in
England must approve its acts.

A mighty hope in small was here! Hedged about with provisions, curtailed
and limited, here nevertheless was an acorn out of which, by natural
growth and some mutation, was to come popular government wide and deep.
The planting of this small seed of freedom here, in 1619, upon the banks
of the James in Virginia, is an event of prime importance.

On the 30th of July, 1619, there was convened in the log church in
Jamestown the first true Parliament or Legislative Assembly in America.
Twenty-two burgesses sat, hat on head, in the body of the church, with
the Governor and the Council in the best seats. Master John Pory, the
speaker, faced the Assembly; clerk and sergeant-at-arms were at hand;
Master Buck, the Jamestown minister, made the solemn opening prayer.
The political divisions of this Virginia were Cities, Plantations,
and Hundreds, the English population numbering now at least a thousand
souls. Boroughs sending burgesses were James City, Charles City, the
City of Henricus, Kecoughtan, Smith's Hundred, Flowerdieu Hundred,
Martin's Hundred, Martin Brandon, Ward's Plantation, Lawne's Plantation,
and Argall's Gift. This first Assembly attended to Indian questions,
agriculture, and religion.

Most notable is this year 1619, a year wrought of gold and iron. John
Rolfe, back in Virginia, though without his Indian princess, who now
lies in English earth, jots down and makes no comment upon what he has
written: "About the last of August came in a Dutch man of warre that
sold us twenty Negars."

No European state of that day, few individuals, disapproved of the
African slave trade. That dark continent made a general hunting-ground.
England, Spain, France, the Netherlands, captured, bought, and sold
slaves. Englishmen in Virginia bought without qualm, as Englishmen
in England bought without qualm. The cargo of the Dutch ship was a
commonplace. The only novelty was that it was the first shipload of
Africans brought to English-America. Here, by the same waters, were the
beginnings of popular government and the young upas-tree of slavery. A
contradiction in terms was set to resolve itself, a riddle for unborn
generations of Americans.

Presently there happened another importation. Virginia, under the new
management, had strongly revived. Ships bringing colonists were coming
in; hamlets were building; fields were being planted; up and down were
to be found churches; a college at Henricus was projected so that Indian
children might be taught and converted from "heathennesse." Yet was the
population almost wholly a doublet--and--breeches--wearing population.
The children for whom the school was building were Indian children.
The men sailing to Virginia dreamed of a few years there and gathered
wealth, and then return to England.

Apparently it was the new Treasurer, Sir Edwyn Sandys, who first grasped
the essential principle of successful colonization: Virginia must be
HOME to those we send! Wife and children made home. Sandys gathered
ninety women, poor maidens and widows, "young, handsome, and chaste,"
who were willing to emigrate and in Virginia become wives of settlers.
They sailed; their passage money was paid by the men of their choice;
they married--and home life began in Virginia. In due course of time
appeared fair-haired children, blue or gray of eye, with all England
behind them, yet native-born, Virginians from the cradle.

Colonists in number sailed now from England. Most ranks of society
and most professions were represented. Many brought education, means,
independent position. Other honest men, chiefly young men with little
in the purse, came over under indentures, bound for a specified term of
years to settlers of larger means. These indentured men are numerous;
and when they have worked out their indebtedness they will take up land
of their own.

An old suggestion of Dale's now for the first time bore fruit. Over the
protest of the "country party" in the Company, there began to be sent
each year out of the King's gaols a number, though not at any time a
large number, of men under conviction for various crimes. This practice
continued, or at intervals was resumed, for years, but its consequences
were not so dire, perhaps, as we might imagine. The penal laws were
execrably brutal, and in the drag-net of the law might be found many
merely unfortunate, many perhaps finer than the law.

Virginia thus was founded and established. An English people moved
through her forests, crossed in boats her shining waters, trod the
lanes of hamlets builded of wood but after English fashions.
Climate, surrounding nature, differed from old England, and these and
circumstance would work for variation. But the stock was Middlesex,
Surrey, Devon, and all the other shires of England. Scotchmen came also,
Welshmen, and, perhaps as early as this, a few Irish. And there were De
La Warr's handful of Poles and Germans, and several French vinedressers.

Political and economic life was taking form. That huge, luxurious,
thick-leafed, yellow-flowered crop, alike comforting and extravagant,
that tobacco that was in much to mould manners and customs and ways
of looking at things, was beginning to grow abundantly. In 1620, forty
thousand pounds of tobacco went from Virginia to England; two years
later went sixty thousand pounds. The best sold at two shillings the
pound, the inferior for eighteen pence. The Virginians dropped all
thought of sassafras and clapboard. Tobacco only had any flavor of
Golconda.

At this time the rich soil, composed of layer on layer of the decay of
forests that had lived from old time, was incredibly fertile. As fast as
trees could be felled and dragged away, in went the tobacco. Fields must
have laborers, nor did these need to be especially intelligent. Bring in
indentured men to work. Presently dream that ships, English as well as
Dutch, might oftener load in Africa and sell in Virginia, to furnish the
dark fields with dark workers! In Dale's time had begun the making over
of land in fee simple; in Yeardley's time every "ancient" colonist--that
is every man who had come to Virginia before 1616--was given a goodly
number of acres subject to a quit-rent. Men of means and influence
obtained great holdings; ownership, rental, sale, and purchase of the
land began in Virginia much as in older times it had begun in England.
Only here, in America, where it seemed that the land could never be
exhausted, individual holdings were often of great acreage. Thus arose
the Virginia Planter.

In Yeardley's time John Berkeley established at Falling Creek the first
iron works ever set up in English-America. There were by this time in
Virginia, glass works, a windmill, iron works. To till the soil remained
the chief industry, but the tobacco culture grew until it overshadowed
the maize and wheat, the pease and beans. There were cattle and swine,
not a few horses, poultry, pigeons, and peacocks.

In 1621 Yeardley, desiring to be relieved, was succeeded by Sir Francis
Wyatt. In October the new Governor came from England in the George, and
with him a goodly company. Among others is found George Sandys, brother
of Sir Edwyn. This gentleman and scholar, beneath Virginia skies
and with Virginia trees and blossoms about him, translated the
"Metamorphoses" of Ovid and the First Book of the "Aeneid", both of
which were published in London in 1626. He stands as the first purely
literary man of the English New World. But vigorous enough literature,
though the writers thereof regarded it as information only, had, from
the first years, emanated from Virginia. Smith's "True Relation",
George Percy's "Discourse", Strachey's "True Repertory of the Wracke
and Redemption of Sir Thomas Gates", and his "Historie of Travaile
into Virginia Brittannia", Hamor's "True Discourse", Whitaker's "Good
News"--other letters and reports--had already flowered, all with
something of the strength and fragrance of Elizabethan and early
Jacobean work.

For some years there had seemed peace with the Indians. Doubtless
members of the one race may have marauded, and members of the other
showed themselves highhanded, impatient, and unjust, but the majority
on each side appeared to have settled into a kind of amity. Indians came
singly or in parties from their villages to the white men's settlements,
where they traded corn and venison and what not for the magic things
the white man owned. A number had obtained the white man's firearms,
unwisely sold or given. The red seemed reconciled to the white's
presence in the land; the Indian village and the Indian tribal economy
rested beside the English settlement, church, and laws. Doubtless a
fragment of the population of England and a fragment of the English in
Virginia saw in a pearly dream the red man baptized, clothed, become
Christian and English. At the least, it seemed that friendliness and
peace might continue.

In the spring of 1622 a concerted Indian attack and massacre fell like
a bolt from the blue. Up and down the James and upon the Chesapeake,
everywhere on the same day, Indians, bursting from the dark forest that
was so close behind every cluster of log houses, attacked the colonists.
Three hundred and forty-seven English men, women, and children were
slain. But Jamestown and the plantations in its neighborhood were warned
in time. The English rallied, gathered force, turned upon and beat back
to the forest the Indian, who was now and for a long time to come their
open foe.

There followed upon this horror not a day or a month but years of
organized retaliation and systematic harrying. In the end the great
majority of the Indians either fell or were pushed back toward the upper
Pamunkey, the Rappahannock, the Potomac, and westward upon the great
shelf or terrace of the earth that climbed to the fabled mountains. And
with this westward move there passed away that old vision of wholesale
Christianizing.



CHAPTER VIII. ROYAL GOVERNMENT

In November, 1620, there sailed into a quiet harbor on the coast of what
is now Massachusetts a ship named the Mayflower, having on board one
hundred and two English Non-conformists, men and women and with them
a few children. These latest colonists held a patent from the Virginia
Company and have left in writing a statement of their object: "We...
having undertaken, for the glory of God and advancement of the Christian
faith, and honor of our King and Country, a voyage to plant the first
colony in the northern parts of Virginia--". The mental reservation is,
of course, "where perchance we may serve God as we will!" In England
there obtained in some quarters a suspicion that "they meant to make a
free, popular State there." Free--Popular--Public Good! These are words
that began, in the second quarter of the seventeenth century, to shine
and ring. King and people had reached the verge of a great struggle. The
Virginia Company was divided, as were other groups, into factions. The
court party and the country party found themselves distinctly opposed.
The great, crowded meetings of the Company Sessions rang with
their divisions upon policies small and large. Words and phrases,
comprehensive, sonorous, heavy with the future, rose and rolled beneath
the roof of their great hall. There were heard amid warm discussion:
Kingdom and Colony--Spain--Netherlands--France--Church and
State--Papists and Schismatics--Duties, Tithes, Excise Petitions of
Grievances--Representation--Right of Assembly. Several years earlier
the King had cried, "Choose the Devil, but not Sir Edwyn Sandys!" Now
he declared the Company "just a seminary to a seditious parliament!" All
London resounded with the clash of parties and opinions.* "Last week
the Earl of Warwick and the Lord Cavendish fell so foul at a Virginia...
court that the lie passed and repassed.... The factions... are grown so
violent that Guelfs and Ghibellines were not more animated one against
another!"

     * In his work on "Joint-stock Companion", vol.II, pp. 266
     ff., W. R. Scott traces the history of these acute
     dissensions in the Virginia Company and draws conclusions
     distinctly unfavorable to the management of Sandys and his
     party.--Editor.

Believing that the Company's sessions foreshadowed a "seditious
parliament," James Stuart set himself with obstinacy and some cunning
to the Company's undoing. The court party gave the King aid, and
circumstances favored the attempt. Captain Nathaniel Butler, who had
once been Governor of the Somers Islands and had now returned to England
by way of Virginia, published in London "The Unmasked Face of Our Colony
in Virginia", containing a savage attack upon every item of Virginian
administration.

The King's Privy Council summoned the Company, or rather the "country"
party, to answer these and other allegations. Southampton, Sandys, and
Ferrar answered with strength and cogency. But the tide was running
against them. James appointed commissioners to search out what was wrong
with Virginia. Certain men were shipped to Virginia to get evidence
there, as well as support from the Virginia Assembly. In this attempt
they signally failed. Then to England came a Virginia member of the
Virginia Council, with long letters to King and Privy Council: the
Sandys-Southampton administration had done more than well for Virginia.
The letters were letters of appeal. The colony hoped that "the Governors
sent over might not have absolute authority, but might be restrained
to the consent of the Council.... But above all they made it their most
humble request that they might still retain the liberty of their
General Assemblies; than which nothing could more conduce to the publick
Satisfaction and publick Liberty."

In London another paper, drawn by Cavendish, was given to King and Privy
Council. It answered many accusations, and among others the statement
that "the Government of the companies as it then stood was democratical
and tumultuous, and ought therefore to be altered, and reduced into the
Hands of a few." It is of interest to hear these men speak, in the year
1623, in an England that was close to absolute monarchy, to a King who
with all his house stood out for personal rule. "However, they owned
that, according to his Majesty's Institution, their Government had some
Show of a democratical Form; which was nevertheless, in that Case, the
most just and profitable, and most conducive to the Ends and Effects
aimed at thereby.... Lastly, they observed that the opposite Faction
cried out loudly against Democracy, and yet called for Oligarchy; which
would, as they conceived, make the Government neither of better Form,
nor more monarchical."

But the dissolution of the Virginia Company was at hand. In October,
1623, the Privy Council stated that the King had "taken into his
princely Consideration the distressed State of the Colony of Virginia,
occasioned, as it seemed, by the Ill Government of the Company." The
remedy for the ill-management lay in the reduction of the Government
into fewer hands. His Majesty had resolved therefore upon the withdrawal
of the Company's charter and the substitution, "with due regard for
continuing and preserving the Interest of all Adventurers and private
persons whatsoever," of a new order of things. The new order proved, on
examination, to be the old order of rule by the Crown. Would the Company
surrender the old charter and accept a new one so modeled?

The Company, through the country party, strove to gain time. They met
with a succession of arbitrary measures and were finally forced to a
decision. They would not surrender their charter. Then a writ of
quo warranto was issued; trial before the King's Bench followed; and
judgment was rendered against the Company in the spring term of 1624.
Thus with clangor fell the famous Virginia Company.

That was one year. The March of the next year James Stuart, King of
England, died. That young Henry who was Prince of Wales when the Susan
Constant, the Goodspeed, and the Discovery sailed past a cape and named
it for him Cape Henry, also had died. His younger brother Charles, for
whom was named that other and opposite cape, now ascended the throne as
King Charles the First of England.

In Virginia no more General Assemblies are held for four years.
King Charles embarks upon "personal rule." Sir Francis Wyatt, a good
Governor, is retained by commission and a Council is appointed by
the King. No longer are affairs to be conducted after a fashion
"democratical and tumultuous." Orders are transmitted from England;
the Governor, assisted by the Council, will take into cognizance purely
local needs; and when he sees some occasion he will issue a proclamation.

Wyatt, recalled finally to England; George Yeardley again, who died in
a year's time; Francis West, that brother of Lord De La Warr and an
ancient planter--these in quick succession sit in the Governor's chair.
Following them John Pott, doctor of medicine, has his short term.
Then the King sends out Sir John Harvey, avaricious and arbitrary,
"so haughty and furious to the Council and the best gentlemen of the
country," says Beverley, "that his tyranny grew at last insupportable."

The Company previously, and now the King, had urged upon the Virginians
a diversified industry and agriculture. But Englishmen in Virginia
had the familiar emigrant idea of making their fortunes. They had left
England; they had taken their lives in their hands; they had suffered
fevers, Indian attacks, homesickness, deprivation. They had come to
Virginia to get rich. Now clapboards and sassafras, pitch, tar, and pine
trees for masts, were making no fortune for Virginia shippers. How could
they, these few folk far off in America, compete in products of the
forest with northern Europe? As to mines of gold and silver, that first
rich vision had proved a disheartening mirage. "They have great hopes
that the mountains are very rich, from the discovery of a silver mine
made nineteen years ago, at a place about four days' journey from the
falls of James river; but they have not the means of transporting the
ore." So, dissatisfied with some means of livelihood and disappointed in
others, the Virginians turned to tobacco.

Every year each planter grew more tobacco; every year more ships were
laden. In 1628 more than five hundred thousand pounds were sent to
England, for to England it must go, and not elsewhere. There it must
struggle with the best Spanish, for a long time valued above the best
Virginian. Finally, however, James and after him Charles, agreed to
exclude the Spanish. Virginia and the Somers Islands alone might import
tobacco into England. But offsetting this, customs went up ruinously; a
great lump sum must go annually to the King; the leaf must enter only
at the port of London; so forth and so on. Finally Charles put forth his
proposal to monopolize the industry, giving Virginia tobacco the English
market but limiting its production to the amount which the Government
could sell advantageously. Such a policy required cooperation from the
colonists. The King therefore ordered the Governor to grant a Virginia
Assembly, which in turn should dutifully enter into partnership with
him--upon his terms. So the Virginia Assembly thus came back into
history. It made a "Humble Answere" in which, for all its humility, the
King's proposal was declined. The idea of the royal monopoly faded out,
and Virginia continued on its own way.

The General Assembly, having once met, seems of its own motion to have
continued meeting. The next year we find it in session at Jamestown, and
resolving "that we should go three severall marches upon the Indians, at
three severall times of the yeare," and also "that there be an especiall
care taken by all commanders and others that the people doe repaire to
their churches on the Saboth day, and to see that the penalty of one
pound of tobacco for every time of absence, and 50 pounds for every
month's absence... be levyed, and the delinquents to pay the same."
About this time we read: "Dr. John Pott, late Governor, indicted,
arraigned, and found guilty of stealing cattle, 13 jurors, 3 whereof
councellors. This day wholly spent in pleading; next day, in unnecessary
disputation."

These were moving times in the little colony whose population may by now
have been five thousand. Harvey, the Governor, was rapacious; the King
at home, autocratic. Meanwhile, signs of change and of unrest were not
wanting in Europe. England was hastening toward revolution; in Germany
the Thirty Years' War was in mid-career; France and Italy were racked
by strife; over the world the peoples groaned under the strain
of oppression. In science, too, there was promise of revolution.
Harvey--not that Governor Harvey of Virginia, but a greater in England
was writing upon the circulation of the blood. Galileo brooded over
ideas of the movement of the earth; Kepler, over celestial harmonies and
solar rule. Descartes was laying the foundation of a new philosophy.

In the meantime, far across the Atlantic, bands of Virginians went out
against the Indians--who might, or might not, God knows! have put in a
claim to be considered among the oppressed peoples. In Virginia the
fat, black, tobacco-fields, steaming under a sun like the sun of Spain,
called for and got more labor and still more labor. Every little sailing
ship brought white workmen--called servants--consigned, indentured,
apprenticed to many-acred planters. These, in return for their passage
money, must serve Laban for a term of years, but then would receive
Rachel, or at least Leah, in the shape of freedom and a small holding
and provision with which to begin again their individual life. If they
were ambitious and energetic they might presently be able, in turn, to
import labor for their own acres. As yet, in Virginia, there were few
African slaves--not more perhaps than a couple of hundred. But whenever
ships brought them they were readily purchased.

In Virginia, as everywhere in time of change, there arose anomalies.
Side by side persisted a romantic devotion to the King and a
determination to have popular assemblies; a great sense of the rights
of the white individual together with African slavery; a practical,
easy-going, debonair naturalism side by side with an Established Church
penalizing alike Papist, Puritan, and atheist. Even so early as this,
the social tone was set that was to hold for many and many a year. The
suave climate was somehow to foster alike a sense of caste and good
neighborliness--class distinctions and republican ideas.

The "towns" were of the fewest and rudest--little more than small
palisaded hamlets, built of frame or log, poised near the water of the
river James. The genius of the land was for the plantation rather than
the town. The fair and large brick or frame planter's house of a later
time had not yet risen, but the system was well inaugurated that set a
main or "big" house upon some fair site, with cabins clustered near it,
and all surrounded, save on the river front, with far-flung acres, some
planted with grain and the rest with tobacco. Up and down the river
these estates were strung together by the rudest roads, mere tracks
through field and wood. The cart was as yet the sole wheeled vehicle.
But the Virginia planter--a horseman in England--brought over horses,
bred horses, and early placed horsemanship in the catalogue of the
necessary colonial virtues. At this point, however, in a land of great
and lesser rivers, with a network of creeks, the boat provided the chief
means of communication. Behind all, enveloping all, still spread the
illimitable forest, the haunt of Indians and innumerable game.

Virginians were already preparing for an expansion to the north. There
was a man in Virginia named William Claiborne. This individual--able,
determined, self-reliant, energetic--had come in as a young man, with
the title of surveyor-general for the Company, in the ship that brought
Sir Francis Wyatt, just before the massacre of 1622. He had prospered
and was now Secretary of the Province. He held lands, and was endowed
with a bold, adventurous temper and a genius for business. In a few
years he had established widespread trading relations with the Indians.
He and the men whom he employed penetrated to the upper shores of
Chesapeake, into the forest bordering Potomac and Susquehanna: Knives
and hatchets, beads, trinkets, and colored cloth were changed for rich
furs and various articles that the Indians could furnish. The skins thus
gathered Claiborne shipped to London merchants, and was like to grow
wealthy from what his trading brought.

Looking upon the future and contemplating barter on a princely scale,
he set to work and obtained exhaustive licenses from the immediate
Virginian authorities, and at last from the King himself. Under these
grants, Claiborne began to provide settlements for his numerous traders.
Far up the Chesapeake, a hundred miles or so from Point Comfort, he
found an island that he liked, and named it Kent Island. Here for his
men he built cabins with gardens around them, a mill and a church.
He was far from the river James and the mass of his fellows, but he
esteemed himself to be in Virginia and upon his own land. What came of
Claiborne's enterprise the sequel has to show.



CHAPTER IX. MARYLAND

There now enters upon the scene in Virginia a man of middle age, not
without experience in planting colonies, by name George Calvert, first
Lord Baltimore. Of Flemish ancestry, born in Yorkshire, scholar at
Oxford, traveler, clerk of the Privy Council, a Secretary of State under
James, member of the House of Commons, member of the Virginia Company,
he knew many of the ramifications of life. A man of worth and weight, he
was placed by temperament and education upon the side of the court party
and the Crown in the growing contest over rights. About the year 1625,
under what influence is not known, he had openly professed the Roman
Catholic faith--and that took courage in the seventeenth century, in
England!

Some years before, Calvert had obtained from the Crown a grant of a part
of Newfoundland, had named it Avalon, and had built great hopes upon its
settlement. But the northern winter had worked against him. He knew, for
he had resided there himself with his family in that harsh clime. "From
the middle of October to the middle of May there is a sad fare of winter
on all this land." He is writing to King Charles, and he goes on to
say "I have had strong temptations to leave all proceedings in
plantations... but my inclination carrying me naturally to these kind of
works... I am determined to commit this place to fishermen that are able
to encounter storms and hard weather, and to remove myself with some
forty persons to your Majesty's dominion of Virginia where, if your
Majesty will please to grant me a precinct of land... I shall endeavour
to the utmost of my power, to deserve it."

With his immediate following he thereupon does sail far southward. In
October, 1629, he comes in between the capes, past Point Comfort and so
up to Jamestown--to the embarrassment of that capital, as will soon be
evident.

Here in Church of England Virginia was a "popish recusant!" Here was an
old "court party" man, one of James's commissioners, a person of rank
and prestige, known, for all his recusancy, to be in favor with
the present King. Here was the Proprietary of Avalon, guessed to be
dissatisfied with his chilly holding, on the scent perhaps of balmier,
easier things!

The Assembly was in session when Lord Baltimore came to Jamestown.
All arrivers in Virginia must take the oath of supremacy. The Assembly
proposed this to the visitor who, as Roman Catholic, could not take it,
and said as much, but offered his own declaration of friendliness to
the powers that were. This was declined. Debate followed, ending with
a request from the Assembly that the visitor depart from Virginia. Some
harshness of speech ensued, but hospitality and the amenities fairly
saved the situation. One Thomas Tindall was pilloried for "giving my
lord Baltimore the lie and threatening to knock him down." Baltimore
thereupon set sail, but not, perhaps, until he had gained that knowledge
of conditions which he desired.

In England he found the King willing to make him a large grant, with no
less powers than had clothed him in Avalon. Territory should be taken
from the old Virginia; it must be of unsettled land--Indians of course
not counting. Baltimore first thought of the stretch south of the river
James between Virginia and Spanish Florida--a fair land of woods and
streams, of good harbors, and summer weather. But suddenly William
Claiborne was found to be in London, sent there by the Virginians, with
representations in his pocket. Virginia was already settled and had the
intention herself of expanding to the south.

Baltimore, the King, and the Privy Council weighed the matter. Westward,
the blue mountains closed the prospect. Was the South Sea just beyond
their sunset slopes, or was it much farther away, over unknown lands,
than the first adventurers had guessed? Either way, too rugged hardship
marked the west! East rolled the ocean. North, then? It were well to
step in before those Hollanders about the mouth of the Hudson should
cast nets to the south. Baltimore accordingly asked for a grant north of
the Potomac.

He received a huge territory, stretching over what is now Maryland,
Delaware, and a part of Pennsylvania. The Potomac, from source to mouth,
with a line across Chesapeake and the Eastern Shore to the ocean formed
his southern frontier; his northern was the fortieth parallel, from the
ocean across country to the due point above the springs of the
Potomac. Over this great expanse he became "true and absolute lord and
proprietary," holding fealty to England, but otherwise at liberty to
rule in his own domain with every power of feudal duke or prince. The
King had his allegiance, likewise a fifth part of gold or silver found
within his lands. All persons going to dwell in his palatinate were to
have "rights and liberties of Englishmen." But, this aside, he was lord
paramount. The new country received the name Terra Mariae--Maryland--for
Henrietta Maria, then Queen of England.

Here was a new land and a Lord Proprietor with kingly powers. Virginians
seated on the James promptly petitioned King Charles not to do them
wrong by so dividing their portion of the earth. But King and Privy
Council answered only that Virginia and Maryland must "assist each
other on all occasions as becometh fellow-subjects." William Claiborne,
indeed, continued with a determined voice to cry out that lands given
to Baltimore were not, as had been claimed, unsettled, seeing that he
himself had under patent a town on Kent Island and another at the mouth
of the Susquehanna.

Baltimore was a reflective man, a dreamer in the good sense of the term,
and religiously minded. At the height of seeming good fortune he could
write:

"All things, my lord, in this world pass away.... They are but lent
us till God please to call for them back again, that we may not esteem
anything our own, or set our hearts upon anything but Him alone, who
only remains forever." Like his King, Baltimore could carry far his
prerogative and privilege, maintaining the while not a few degrees of
inner freedom. Like all men, here he was bound, and here he was free.

Baltimore's desire was for "enlarging his Majesty's Empire," and at
the same time to provide in Maryland a refuge for his fellow Catholics.
These were now in England so disabled and limited that their status
might fairly be called that of a persecuted people. The mounting
Puritanism promised no improvement. The King himself had no fierce
antagonism to the old religion, but it was beginning to be seen that
Charles and Charles's realm were two different things. A haven should be
provided before the storm blackened further. Baltimore thus saw put into
his hands a high and holy opportunity, and made no doubt that it was
God-given. His charter, indeed, seemed to contemplate an established
church, for it gave to Baltimore the patronage of all churches and
chapels which were to be "consecrated according to the ecclesiastical
laws of our kingdom of England"; nevertheless, no interpretation of the
charter was to be made prejudicial to "God's holy and true Christian
religion." What was Christian and what was prejudicial was, fortunately
for him, left undefined. No obstacles were placed before a Catholic
emigration.

Baltimore had this idea and perhaps a still wider one: a land--Mary's
land--where all Christians might foregather, brothers and sisters in
one home! Religious tolerance--practical separation of Church and
State--that was a broad idea for his age, a generous idea for a Roman
Catholic of a time not so far removed from the mediaeval. True, wherever
he went and whatever might be his own thought and feeling, he would
still have for overlord a Protestant sovereign, and the words of his
charter forbade him to make laws repugnant to the laws of England. But
Maryland was distant, and wise management might do much. Catholics,
Anglicans, Puritans, Dissidents, and Nonconformists of almost any
physiognomy, might come and be at home, unpunished for variations in
belief.

Only the personal friendship of England's King and the tact and suave
sagacity of the Proprietary himself could have procured the signing of
this charter, since it was known--as it was to all who cared to busy
themselves with the matter--that here was a Catholic meaning to take
other Catholics, together with other scarcely less abominable sectaries,
out of the reach of Recusancy Acts and religious pains and penalties, to
set them free in England-in-America; and, raising there a state on the
novel basis of free religion, perhaps to convert the heathen to all
manner of errors, and embark on mischiefs far too large for definition.
Taking things as they were in the world, remembering acts of the
Catholic Church in the not distant past, the ill-disposed might find
some color for the agitation which presently did arise. Baltimore was
known to be in correspondence with English Jesuits, and it soon appeared
that Jesuit priests were to accompany the first colonists. At that time
the Society of Jesus loomed large both politically and educationally.
Many may have thought that there threatened a Rome in America. But,
however that may have been, there was small chance for any successful
opposition to the charter, since Parliament had been dissolved by the
King, not to be summoned again for eleven years. The Privy Council was
subservient, and, as the Sovereign was his friend, Baltimore saw the
signing of the charter assured and began to gather together his first
colonists. Then, somewhat suddenly, in April, 1632, he sickened, and
died at the age of fifty-three.

His son, Cecil Calvert, second Lord Baltimore, took up his father's
work. This young man, likewise able and sagacious, and at every step in
his father's confidence, could and did proceed even in detail according
to what had been planned. All his father's rights had descended to
him; in Maryland he was Proprietary with as ample power as ever a Count
Palatine had enjoyed. He took up the advantage and the burden.

The father's idea had been to go with his colonists to Maryland, and
this it seems that the son also meant to do. But now, in London, there
deepened a clamor against such Catholic enterprise. Once he were away,
lips would be at the King's ear. And with England so restless, in a
turmoil of new thought, it might even arise that King and Privy Council
would find trouble in acting after their will, good though that might
be. The second Baltimore therefore remained in England to safeguard his
charter and his interests.

The family of Baltimore was an able one. Cecil Calvert had two brothers,
Leonard and George, and these would go to Maryland in his place. Leonard
he made Governor and Lieutenant-general, and appointed him councilor.
Ships were made ready--the Ark of three hundred tons and the Dove of
fifty. The colonists went aboard at Gravesend, where these ships rode at
anchor. Of the company a great number were Protestants, willing to take
land, if their condition were bettered so, with Catholics. Difficulties
of many kinds kept them all long at the mouth of the Thames, but at
last, late in November, 1633, the Ark and the Dove set sail. Touching at
the Isle of Wight, they took aboard two Jesuit priests, Father White and
Father Altham, and a number of other colonists. Baltimore reported that
the expedition consisted of "two of my brothers with very near twenty
other gentlemen of very good fashion, and three hundred labouring men
well provided in all things."

These ships, with the first Marylanders, went by the old West Indies sea
route. We find them resting at Barbados; then they swung to the north
and, in February, 1634, came to Point Comfort in Virginia. Here they
took supplies, being treated by Sir John Harvey (who had received
a letter from the King) with "courtesy and humanity." Without long
tarrying, for they were sick now for land of their own, they sailed on
up the great bay, the Chesapeake.

Soon they reached the mouth of the Potomac--a river much greater than
any of them, save shipmasters and mariners, had ever seen--and into this
turned the Ark and the Dove. After a few leagues of sailing up the wide
stream, they came upon an islet covered with trees, leafless, for spring
had hardly broken. The ships dropped anchor; the boats were lowered; the
people went ashore. Here the Calverts claimed Maryland "for our Savior
and for our Sovereign Lord the King of England," and here they heard
Mass. St. Clement's they called the island.

But it was too small for a home. The Ark was left at anchor, while
Leonard Calvert went exploring with the Dove. Up the Potomac some
distance he went, but at the last he wisely determined to choose for
their first town a site nearer the sea. The Dove turned and came back
to the Ark, and both sailed on down the stream from St. Clement's Isle.
Before long they came to the mouth of a tributary stream flowing in
from the north. The Dove, going forth again, entered this river, which
presently the party named the River St. George. Soon they came to a high
bank with trees tinged with the foliage of advancing spring. Here upon
this bank the English found an Indian village and a small Algonquin
group, in the course of extinction by their formidable Iroquois
neighbors, the giant Susquehannocks. The white men landed, bearing a
store of hatchets, gewgaws, and colored cloth. The first Lord Baltimore,
having had opportunity enough for observing savages, had probably handed
on to his sagacious sons his conclusions as to ways of dealing with the
natives of the forest. And the undeniable logic of events was at last
teaching the English how to colonize. Englishmen on Roanoke Island,
Englishmen on the banks of the James, Englishmen in that first New
England colony, had borne the weight of early inexperience and all the
catalogue of woes that follow ignorance. All these early colonists alike
had been quickly entangled in strife with the people whom they found in
the land.

     First they fell on their knees,
     And then on the Aborigines.

But by now much water had passed the mill. The thinking kind, the wiser
sort, might perceive more things than one, and among these the fact that
savages had a sense of justice and would even fight against injustice,
real or fancied.

The Calverts, through their interpreter, conferred with the inhabitants
of this Indian village. Would they sell lands where the white men might
peaceably settle, under their given word to deal in friendly wise with
the red men? Many hatchets and axes and much cloth would be given in
return.

To a sylvan people store of hatchets and axes had a value beyond many
fields of the boundless earth. The Dove appeared before them, too, at
the psychological moment. They had just discussed removing, bag and
baggage, from the proximity of the Iroquois. In the end, these Indians
sold to the English their village huts, their cleared and planted
fields, and miles of surrounding forest. Moreover they stayed long
enough in friendship with the newcomers to teach them many things of
value. Then they departed, leaving with the English a clear title to as
much land as they could handle, at least for some time to come. Later,
with other Indians, as with these, the Calverts pursued a conciliatory
policy. They were aided by the fact that the Susquehannocks to the
north, who might have given trouble, were involved in war with yet more
northerly tribes, and could pay scant attention to the incoming white
men. But even so, the Calverts proved, as William Penn proved later,
that men may live at peace with men, honestly and honorably, even though
hue of skin and plane of development differ.

Now the Ark joins the Dove in the River St. George. The pieces of
ordnance are fired; the colonists disembark; and on the 27th of March,
1634, the Indian village, now English, becomes St. Mary's.

On the whole how advantageously are they placed! There is peace with
the Indians. Huts, lodges, are already built, fields already cleared
or planted. The site is high and healthful. They have at first few
dissensions among themselves. Nor are they entirely alone or isolated
in the New World. There is a New England to the north of them and a
Virginia to the south. From the one they get in the autumn salted fish,
from the other store of swine and cattle. Famine and pestilence are far
from them. They build a "fort" and perhaps a stockade, but there are
none of the stealthy deaths given by arrow and tomahawk in the north,
nor are there any of the Spanish alarms that terrified the south. From
the first they have with them women and children. They know that their
settlement is "home." Soon other ships and colonists follow the Ark and
the Dove to St. Mary's, and the history of this middle colony is well
begun.

In Virginia, meantime, there was jealousy enough of the new colony,
taking as it did territory held to be Virginian and renaming it, not
for the old, independent, Protestant, virgin queen, but for a French,
Catholic, queen consort--even settling it with believers in the Mass
and bringing in Jesuits! It was, says a Jamestown settler, "accounted a
crime almost as heinous as treason to favour, nay to speak well of that
colony." Beside the Virginian folk as a whole, one man, in particular,
William Claiborne, nursed an individual grievance. He had it from
Governor Calvert that he might dwell on in Kent Island, trading from
there, but only under license from the Lord Proprietor and as an
inhabitant of Maryland, not of Virginia. Claiborne, with the Assembly
at Jamestown secretly on his side, resisted this interference with his
rights, and, as he continued to trade with a high hand, he soon fell
under suspicion of stirring up the Indians against the Marylanders.

At the time, this quarrel rang loud through Maryland and Virginia, and
even echoed across the Atlantic. Leonard Calvert had a trading-boat of
Claiborne's seized in the Patuxent River. Thereupon Claiborne's men,
with the shallop Cockatrice, in retaliation attacked Maryland pinnaces
and lost both their lives and their boat. For several years Maryland and
Kent Island continued intermittently to make petty war on each other.
At last, in 1638, Calvert took the island by main force and hanged
for piracy a captain of Claiborne's. The Maryland Assembly brought the
trader under a Bill of Attainder; and a little later, in England, the
Lords Commissioners of Foreign Plantations formally awarded Kent Island
to the Lord Proprietor. Thus defeated, Claiborne, nursing his wrath,
moved down the bay to Virginia.



CHAPTER X. CHURCH AND KINGDOM

Virginia, all this time, with Maryland a thorn in her side, was
wrestling with an autocratic governor, John Harvey. This avaricious
tyrant sowed the wind until in 1635 he was like to reap the whirlwind.
Though he was the King's Governor and in good odor in England, where
rested the overpower to which Virginia must bow, yet in this year
Virginia blew upon her courage until it was glowing and laid rude hands
upon him. We read: "An Assembly to be called to receive complaints
against Sr. John Harvey, on the petition of many inhabitants, to meet
7th of May." But, before that month was come, the Council, seizing
opportunity, acted for the whole. Immediately below the entry above
quoted appears: "On the 28th of April, 1635, Sr. John Harvey thrust out
of his government, and Capt. John West acts as Governor till the King's
pleasure known."*

     * Hening's "Statutes" vol. I p. 223.

So Virginia began her course as rebel against political evils! It is
of interest to note that Nicholas Martian, one of the men found active
against the Governor, was an ancestor of George Washington.

Harvey, thrust out, took first ship for England, and there also sailed
commissioners from the Virginia Assembly with a declaration of wrongs
for the King's ear. But when they came to England, they found that the
King's ear was for the Governor whom he had given to the Virginians and
whom they, with audacious disobedience, had deposed. Back should go
Sir John Harvey, still governing Virginia; back without audience the
so-called commissioners, happy to escape a merited hanging! Again to
Jamestown sailed Harvey. In silence Virginia received him, and while he
remained Governor no Assembly sat.

But having asserted his authority, the King in a few years' time was
willing to recall his unwelcome representative. So in 1639 Governor
Harvey vanishes from the scene, and in comes the well-liked Sir Francis
Wyatt as Governor for the second time. For two years he remains, and is
then superseded by Sir William Berkeley, a notable figure in Virginia
for many years to come. The population was now perhaps ten thousand,
both English born and Virginians born of English parents. A few hundred
negroes moved in the tobacco fields. More would be brought in and yet
more. And now above a million pounds of tobacco were going annually to
England.

The century was predominantly one of inner and outer religious conflict.
What went on at home in England reechoed in Virginia. The new Governor
was a dyed-in-the-wool Cavalier, utterly stubborn for King and Church.
The Assemblies likewise leaned that way, as presumably did the mass
of the people. It was ordered in 1631: "That there bee a uniformitie
throughout this colony both in substance and circumstance to the cannons
and constitutions of the church of England as neere as may bee, and
that every person yeald readie obedience unto them uppon penaltie of the
paynes and forfeitures in that case appoynted." And, indeed, the pains
and forfeitures threatened were savage enough.

Official Virginia, loyal to the Established Church, was jealous and
fearful of Papistry and looked askance at Puritanism. It frowned upon
these and upon agnosticisms, atheisms, pantheisms, religious doubts, and
alterations in judgment--upon anything, in short, that seemed to push a
finger against Church and Kingdom. Yet in this Virginia, governed by
Sir William Berkeley, a gentleman more cavalier than the Cavaliers, more
royalist than the King, more churchly than the Church, there lived not
a few Puritans and Dissidents, going on as best they might with
Established Church and fiery King's men. Certain parishes were
predominantly Puritan; certain ministers were known to have leanings
away from surplices and genuflections and to hold that Archbishop Laud
was some kin to the Pope. In 1642, to reenforce these ministers, came
three more from New England, actively averse to conformity. But Governor
and Council and the majority of the Burgesses will have none of that.
The Assembly of 1643 takes sharp action.

For the preservation of the puritie of doctrine and unitie of the
church, IT IS ENACTED that all ministers whatsoever which shall reside
in the collony are to be conformable to the orders and constitutions
of the church of England, and the laws therein established, and not
otherwise to be admitted to teach or preach publickly or privately.
And that the Gov. and Counsel do take care that all nonconformists
upon notice of them shall be compelled to depart the collony with all
conveniencie. And so in consequence out of Virginia, to New England
where Independents were welcome, or to Maryland where any Christian
might dwell, went these tainted ministers. But there stayed behind
Puritan and nonconforming minds in the bodies of many parishioners. They
must hold their tongues, indeed, and outwardly conform--but they watched
lynx-eyed for their opportunity and a more favorable fortune.

Having launched thunderbolts against schismatics of this sort, Berkeley,
himself active and powerful, with the Council almost wholly of his
party and the House of Burgesses dominantly so, turned his attention
to "popish recusants." Of these there were few or none dwelling in
Virginia. Let them then not attempt to come from Maryland! The rulers of
the colony legislated with vigor: papists may not hold any public place;
all statutes against them shall be duly executed; popish priests by
chance or intent arriving within the bounds of Virginia shall be given
five days' warning, and, if at the end of this time they are yet upon
Virginian soil, action shall be brought against them. Berkeley sweeps
with an impatient broom.

The Kingdom is cared for not less than the Church in Virginia. Any
and all persons coming into the colony by land and by sea shall have
administered to them the Oath of Supremacy and Allegiance. "Which if any
shall refuse to take," the commander of the fort at Point Comfort
shall "committ him or them to prison." Foreigners in birth and tongue,
foreigners in thought, must have found the place and time narrow indeed.

On the eve of civil war there arose on the part of some in England a
project to revive and restore the old Virginia Company by procuring from
Charles, now deep in troubles of his own, a renewal of the old letters
patent and the transference of the direct government of the colony into
the hands of a reorganized and vast corporation. Virginia, which a score
of years before had defended the Company, now protested vigorously, and,
with regard to the long view of things, it may be thought wisely. The
project died a natural death. The petition sent from Virginia shows
plainly enough the pen of Berkeley. There are a multitude of reasons
why Virginia should not pass from King to Company, among which these
are worthy of note: "We may not admit of so unnatural a distance as a
Company will interpose between his sacred majesty and us his subjects
from whose immediate protection we have received so many royal favours
and gracious blessings. For, by such admissions, we shall degenerate
from the condition of our birth, being naturalized under a monarchical
government and not a popular and tumultuary government depending
upon the greatest number of votes of persons of several humours and
dispositions."

When this paper reached England, it came to a country at civil war. The
Long Parliament was in session. Stafford had been beheaded, the Star
Chamber swept away, the Grand Remonstrance presented. On Edgehill
bloomed flowers that would soon be trampled by Rupert's cavalry. In
Virginia the Assembly took notice of these "unkind differences now
in England," and provided by tithing for the Governor's pension and
allowance, which were for the present suspended and endangered by the
troubles at home. That the forces banded against the Lord's anointed
would prove victorious must at this time have appeared preposterously
unlikely to the fiery Governor and the ultra-loyal Virginia whom he led.
The Puritans and Independents in Virginia--estimated a little earlier
at "a thousand strong" and now, for all the acts against them, probably
stronger yet--were to be found chiefly in the parishes of Isle of Wight
and Nansemond, but had representatives from the Falls to the Eastern
Shore. What these Virginians thought of the "unkind differences" does
not appear in the record, but probably there was thought enough and
secret hopes.

In 1644, the year of Marston Moor, Virginia, too, saw battle and sudden
and bloody death. That Opechancanough who had succeeded Powhatan was
now one hundred years old, hardly able to walk or to see, dwelling
harmlessly in a village upon the upper Pamunkey. All the Indians were
broken and dispersed; serious danger was not to be thought of. Then,
of a sudden, the flame leaped again. There fell from the blue sky a
massacre directed against the outlying plantations. Three hundred men,
women, and children were killed by the Indians. With fury the white men
attacked in return. They sent bodies of horse into the untouched western
forests. They chased and slew without mercy. In 1646 Opechancanough,
brought a prisoner to Jamestown, ended his long tale of years by a shot
from one of his keepers. The Indians were beaten, and, lacking such
another leader, made no more organized and general attacks. But for long
years a kind of border warfare still went on.

Even Maryland, tolerant and just as was the Calvert policy, did not
altogether escape Indian troubles. She had to contend with no such able
chief as Opechancanough, and she suffered no sweeping massacres. But
after the first idyllic year or so there set in a small, constant
friction. So fast did the Maryland colonists arrive that soon there was
pressure of population beyond those first purchased bounds. The more
thoughtful among the Indians may well have taken alarm lest their
villages and hunting-grounds might not endure these inroads. Ere long
the English in Maryland were placing "centinells" over fields where men
worked, and providing penalties for those who sold the savages firearms.
But at no time did young Maryland suffer the Indian woes that had vexed
young Virginia.

Nor did Maryland escape the clash of interests which beset the
beginnings of representative assemblies in all proprietary provinces.
The second, like the first, Lord Baltimore, was a believer in kings and
aristocracies, in a natural division of human society into masters and
men. His effort was to plant intact in Maryland a feudal order. He would
be Palatine, the King his suzerain. In Maryland the great planters, in
effect his barons, should live upon estates, manorial in size and with
manorial rights. The laboring men--the impecunious adventurers whom
these greater adventurers brought out--would form a tenantry, the
Lord Proprietary's men's men. It is true that, according to charter,
provision was made for an Assembly. Here were to sit "freemen of the
province," that is to say, all white males who were not in the position
of indentured servants. But with the Proprietary, and not with the
Assembly, would rest primarily the lawmaking power. The Lord Proprietary
would propose legislation, and the freemen of the country would debate,
in a measure advise, represent, act as consultants, and finally confirm.
Baltimore was prepared to be a benevolent lord, wise, fatherly.

In 1635 met the first Assembly, Leonard Calvert and his Council
sitting with the burgesses, and this gathering of freemen proceeded to
inaugurate legislation. There was passed a string of enactments which
presumably dealt with immediate wants at St. Mary's, and which, the
Assembly recognized, must have the Lord Proprietary's assent. A copy was
therefore sent by the first ship to leave. So long were the voyages and
so slow the procedure in England that it was 1637 before Baltimore's
veto upon the Assembly's laws reached Maryland. It would seem that
he did not disapprove so much of the laws themselves as of the bold
initiative of the Assembly, for he at once sent over twelve bills of
his own drafting. Leonard Calvert was instructed to bring all freemen
together in Assembly and present for their acceptance the substituted
legislation.

Early in 1638 this Maryland Assembly met. The Governor put before it for
adoption the Proprietary's laws. The vote was taken. Governor and some
others were for, the remainder of the Assembly unanimously against, the
proposed legislation. There followed a year or two of struggle over this
question, but in the end the Proprietary in effect acknowledged defeat.
The colonists, through their Assembly, might thereafter propose laws
to meet their exigencies, and Governor Calvert, acting for his brother,
should approve or veto according to need.

When civil war between King and Parliament broke out in England,
sentiment in Maryland as in Virginia inclined toward the King. But
that Puritan, Non-conformist, and republican element that was in
both colonies might be expected to gain if, at home in England, the
Parliamentary party gained. A Royal Governor or a Lord Proprietary's
Governor might alike be perplexed by the political turmoil in the mother
country. Leonard Calvert felt the need of first-hand consultation with
his brother. Leaving Giles Brent in his place, he sailed for England,
talked there with Baltimore himself, perplexed and filled with
foreboding, and returned to Maryland not greatly wiser than when he
went.

Maryland was soon convulsed by disorders which in many ways reflected
the unsettled conditions in England. A London ship, commanded by Richard
Ingle, a Puritan and a staunch upholder of the cause of Parliament,
arrived before St. Mary's, where he gave great offense by his blatant
remarks about the King and Rupert, "that Prince Rogue." Though he was
promptly arrested on the charge of treason, he managed to escape and
soon left the loyal colony far astern.

In the meantime Leonard Calvert had come back to Maryland, where he
found confusion and a growing heat and faction and side-taking of a
bitter sort. To add to the turmoil, William Claiborne, among whose
dominant traits was an inability to recognize defeat, was making
attempts upon Kent Island. Calvert was not long at St. Mary's ere Ingle
sailed in again with letters-of-marque from the Long Parliament. Ingle
and his men landed and quickly found out the Protestant moiety of
the colonists. There followed an actual insurrection, the Marylanders
joining with Ingle and much aided by Claiborne, who now retook Kent
Island. The insurgents then captured St. Mary's and forced the
Governor to flee to Virginia. For two years Ingle ruled and plundered,
sequestrating goods of the Proprietary's adherents, and deporting in
irons Jesuit priests. At the end of this time Calvert reappeared, and
behind him a troop gathered in Virginia. Now it was Ingle's turn to
flee. Regaining his ship, he made sail for England, and Maryland settled
down again to the ancient order. The Governor then reduced Kent Island.
Claiborne, again defeated, retired to Virginia, whence he sailed for
England.

In 1647 Leonard Calvert died. Until the Proprietary's will should be
known, Thomas Greene acted as Governor. Over in England, Lord Baltimore
stood at the parting of the ways. The King's cause had a hopeless look.
Roundhead and Parliament were making way in a mighty tide. Baltimore was
marked for a royalist and a Catholic. If the tide rose farther, he might
lose Maryland. A sagacious mind, he proceeded to do all that he could,
short of denying his every belief, to placate his enemies. He appointed
as Governor of Maryland William Stone, a Puritan, and into the Council,
numbering five members, he put three Puritans. On the other hand the
interests of his Maryland Catholics must not be endangered. He required
of the new Governor not to molest any person "professing to believe
in Jesus Christ, and in particular any Roman Catholic." In this way he
thought that, right and left, he might provide against persecution.

Under these complex influences the Maryland Assembly passed in 1649 an
Act concerning Religion. It reveals, upon the one hand, Christendom's
mercilessness toward the freethinker--in which mercilessness, whether
through conviction or policy, Baltimore acquiesced--and, on the other
hand, that aspiration toward friendship within the Christian fold which
is even yet hardly more than a pious wish, and which in the seventeenth
century could have been felt by very few. To Baltimore and the Assembly
of Maryland belongs, not the glory of inaugurating an era of wide
toleration for men and women of all beliefs or disbeliefs, whether
Christian or not, but the real though lesser glory of establishing
entire toleration among the divisions within the Christian circle
itself. According to the Act,*

"Whatsoever person or persons within this Province and the Islands
thereunto belonging, shall from henceforth blaspheme God, that is curse
him, or deny our Saviour Jesus Christ to bee the sonne of God, or
shall deny the holy Trinity,... or the Godhead of any of the said three
persons of the Trinity, or the unity of the Godhead, or shall use or
utter any reproachful speeches, words or language concerning the
said Holy Trinity, or any of the said three persons thereof, shall be
punished with death and confiscation or forfeiture of all his or her
lands and goods to the Lord Proprietary and his heires.... Whatsoever
person or persons shall from henceforth use or utter any reproachfull
words, or speeches, concerning the blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of
our Saviour, or the holy Apostles or Evangelists, or any of them, shall
in such case for the first offence forfeit to the said Lord Proprietary
and his heires the sum of five pound sterling.... Whatsoever person
shall henceforth upon any occasion... declare, call, or denominate any
person or persons whatsoever inhabiting, residing, traffiqueing, trading
or comerceing within this Province, or within any of the Ports, Harbors,
Creeks or Havens to the same belonging, an heritick, Scismatick,
Idolator, puritan, Independant, Presbiterian, popish priest, Jesuite,
Jesuited papist, Lutheran, Calvenist, Anabaptist, Brownist, Antinomian,
Barrowist, Roundhead, Separtist, or any other name or term in a
reproachful manner relating to matter of Religion, shall for every such
Offence forfeit... the sum of tenne shillings sterling....

"Whereas the inforceing of the conscience in matters of Religion
hath frequently fallen out to be of dangerous Consequence in those
commonwealths where it hath been practised,... be it therefore also
by the Lord Proprietary with the advice and consent of this Assembly,
ordeyned and enacted... that no person or persons whatsoever within this
Province...professing to beleive in Jesus Christ, shall from henceforth
bee any waies troubled, molested or discountenanced for or in respect
of his or her religion nor in the free exercise thereof... nor anyway
compelled to the beleif or exercise of any other Religion against his or
her consent, soe as they be not unfaithfull to the Lord Proprietary or
molest or conspire against the civill Government..."

     * "Archives of Maryland, Proceedings and Acts of the General
     Assembly", vol. I, pp. 244-247.



CHAPTER XI. COMMONWEALTH AND RESTORATION

On the 30th of January, 1649, before the palace of Whitehall, Charles
the First of England was beheaded. In Virginia the event fell with a
shock. Even those within the colony who were Cromwell's men rather than
Charles's men seem to have recoiled from this act. Presently, too, came
fleeing royalists from overseas, to add their passionate voices to those
of the royalists in Virginia. Many came, "nobility, clergy and gentry,
men of the first rate." A thousand are said to have arrived in the year
after the King's death.

In October the Virginia Assembly met. Parliament men--and now these were
walking with head in the air--might regret the execution of the past
January, and yet be prepared to assert that with the fall of the kingdom
fell all powers and offices named and decreed by the hapless monarch.
What was a passionate royalist government doing in Virginia now that
England was a Commonwealth? The passionate government answered for
itself in acts passed by this Assembly. With swelling words, with a
tragic accent, it denounced the late happenings in England and all the
Roundhead wickedness that led up to them. It proclaimed loyalty to "his
sacred Majesty that now is"--that is, to Charles Stuart, afterwards
Charles the Second, then a refugee on the Continent. Finally it enacted
that any who defended the late proceedings, or in the least affected to
question "the undoubted and inherent right of his Majesty that now is to
the Collony of Virginia" should be held guilty of high treason; and
that "reporters and divulgers" of rumors tending to change of government
should be punished "even to severity."

Berkeley's words may be detected in these acts of the Assembly. In no
great time the Cavalier Governor conferred with Colonel Henry Norwood,
one of the royalist refugees to Virginia. Norwood thereupon sailed away
upon a Dutch ship and came to Holland, where he found "his Majesty
that now is." Here he knelt, and invited that same Majesty to visit his
dominion of Virginia, and, if he liked it, there to rest, sovereign of
the Virginian people. But Charles still hoped to be sovereign in England
and would not cross the seas. He sent, however, to Sir William Berkeley
a renewal of his Governor's commission, and appointed Norwood Treasurer
of Virginia, and said, doubtless, many gay and pleasant things.

In Virginia there continued to appear from England adherents of the
ancient regime. Men, women, and children came until to a considerable
degree the tone of society rang Cavalier. This immigration, now lighter,
now heavier, continued through a rather prolonged period. There came now
to Virginia families whose names are often met in the later history
of the land. Now Washingtons appear, with Randolphs, Carys, Skipwiths,
Brodnaxes, Tylers, Masons, Madisons, Monroes, and many more. These
persons are not without means; they bring with them servants; they are
in high favor with Governor and Council; they acquire large tracts
of virgin land; they bring in indentured labor; they purchase African
slaves; they cultivate tobacco. From being English country gentlemen
they turn easily to become Virginia planters.

But the Virginia Assembly had thrown a gauntlet before the victorious
Commonwealth; and the Long Parliament now declared the colony to be
in contumacy, assembled and dispatched ships against her, and laid an
embargo upon trade with the rebellious daughter. In January of 1652
English ships appeared off Point Comfort. Four Commissioners of the
Commonwealth were aboard, of whom that strong man Claiborne was one.
After issuing a proclamation to quiet the fears of the people,
the Commissioners made their way to Jamestown. Here was found the
indomitable Berkeley and his Council in a state of active preparation,
cannon trained. But, when all was said, the Commissioners had brought
wisely moderate terms: submit because submit they must, acknowledge the
Commonwealth, and, that done, rest unmolested! If resistance continued,
there were enough Parliament men in Virginia to make an army. Indentured
servants and slaves should receive freedom in exchange for support to
the Commonwealth. The ships would come up from Point Comfort, and a
determined war would be on. What Sir William Berkeley personally said
has not survived. But after consultation upon consultation Virginia
surrendered to the commonwealth.

Berkeley stepped from the Governor's chair, retiring in wrath and
bitterness of heart to his house at Greenspring. In his place sat
Richard Bennett, one of the Commissioners. Claiborne was made Secretary.
King's men went out of office; Parliament men came in. But there was
no persecution. In the bland and wide Virginia air minds failed to come
into hard and frequent collision. For all the ferocities of the statute
books, acute suffering for difference of opinion, whether political or
religious, did not bulk large in the life of early Virginia.

The Commissioners, after the reduction of Virginia, had a like part to
play with Maryland. At St. Mary's, as at Jamestown, they demanded and at
length received submission to the Commonwealth. There was here the less
trouble owing to Baltimore's foresight in appointing to the office
of Governor William Stone, whose opinions, political and religious,
accorded with those of revolutionary England. Yet the Governor could
not bring himself to forget his oath to Lord Baltimore and agree to the
demand of the Commissioners that he should administer the Government
in the name of "the Keepers of the Liberties of England." After some
hesitation the Commissioners decided to respect his scruples and allow
him to govern in the name of the Lord Proprietary, as he had solemnly
promised.

In Virginia and in Maryland the Commonwealth and the Lord Protector
stand where stood the Kingdom and the King. Many are far better
satisfied than they were before; and the confirmed royalist consumes his
grumbling in his own circle. The old, exhausting quarrel seems laid
to rest. But within this wider peace breaks out suddenly an interior
strife. Virginia would, if she could, have back all her old northward
territory. In 1652 Bennett's Government goes so far as to petition
Parliament to unseat the Catholic Proprietary of Maryland and make whole
again the ancient Virginia. The hand of Claiborne, that remarkable and
persistent man, may be seen in this.

In Maryland, Puritans and Independents were settled chiefly about
the rivers Severn and Patuxent and in a village called Providence,
afterwards Annapolis. These now saw their chance to throw off the
Proprietary's rule and to come directly under that of the Commonwealth.
So thinking, they put themselves into communication with Bennett and
Claiborne. In 1654 Stone charged the Commissioners with having promoted
"faction, sedition, and rebellion against the Lord Baltimore." The
charge was well founded. Claiborne and Bennett assumed that they were
yet Parliament Commissioners, empowered to bring "all plantations within
the Bay of Chesapeake to their due obedience to the Parliament and
Commonwealth of England." And they were indeed set against the Lord
Baltimore. Claiborne would head the Puritans of Providence; and a troop
should be raised in Virginia and march northward. The Commissioners
actually advanced upon St. Mary's, and with so superior a force that
Stone surrendered, and a Puritan Government was inaugurated. A Puritan
Assembly met, debarring any Catholics. Presently it passed an act
annulling the Proprietary's Act of Toleration. Professors of the
religion of Rome should "be restrained from the exercise thereof."
The hand of the law was to fall heavily upon "popery, prelacy, or
licentiousness of opinion." Thus was intolerance alive again in the only
land where she had seemed to die!

In England now there was hardly a Parliament, but only the Lord
Protector, Oliver Cromwell. Content with Baltimore's recognition of the
Protectorate, Cromwell was not prepared to back, in their independent
action, the Commissioners of that now dissolved Parliament. Baltimore
made sure of this, and then dispatched messengers overseas to Stone,
bidding him do all that lay in him to retake Maryland. Stone thereupon
gathered several hundred men and a fleet of small sailing craft, with
which he pushed up the bay to the Severn. In the meantime the Puritans
had not been idle, but had themselves raised a body of men and had taken
over the Golden Lyon, an armed merchantman lying before their town. On
the 24th of March, 1655, the two forces met in the Battle of the Severn.
"In the name of God, fall on!" cried the men of Providence, and "Hey for
St. Mary's!" cried the others. The battle was won by the Providence men.
They slew or wounded fifty of the St. Mary's men and desperately wounded
Stone himself and took many prisoners, ten of whom were afterwards
condemned to death and four were actually executed.

Now followed a period of up and down, the Commissioners and the
Proprietary alike appealing to the Lord Protector for some expression of
his "determinate will." Both sides received encouragement inasmuch as he
decided for neither. His own authority being denied by neither, Cromwell
may have preferred to hold these distant factions in a canceling,
neutralizing posture. But far weightier matters, in fact, were occupying
his mind. In 1657, weary of her "very sad, distracted, and unsettled
condition," Maryland herself proceeded--Puritan, Prelatist, and
Catholic together--to agree henceforth to disagree. Toleration viewed
in retrospect appears dimly to have been seen for the angel that it was.
Maryland would return to the Proprietary's rule, provided there should
be complete indemnity for political offenses and a solemn promise that
the Toleration Act of 1649 should never be repealed. This without a
smile Baltimore promised. Articles were signed; a new Assembly composed
of all manner of Christians was called; and Maryland returned for a time
to her first allegiance.

Quiet years, on the whole, follow in Virginia under the Commonwealth.
The three Governors of this period--Bennett, Digges, and Mathews are
all chosen by the Assembly, which, but for the Navigation Laws,* might
almost forget the Home Government. Then Oliver Cromwell dies; and, after
an interval, back to England come the Stuarts. Charles II is proclaimed
King. And back into office in Virginia is brought that staunch old
monarchist, Sir William Berkeley--first by a royalist Assembly and
presently by commission from the new King.

     * See Editor's Note on the Navigation Laws at the end of
     this volume.


Then Virginia had her Long Parliament or Assembly. In 1661, in the
first gush of the Restoration, there was elected a House of Burgesses so
congenial to Berkeley's mind that he wished to see it perpetuated. For
fifteen years therefore he held it in being, with adjournments from one
year into another and with sharp refusals to listen to any demand for
new elections. Yet this demand grew, and still the Governor shut the
door in the face of the people and looked imperiously forth from the
window. His temper, always fiery, now burned vindictive; his zeal for
King and Church and the high prerogatives of the Governor of Virginia
became a consuming passion.

When Berkeley first came to Virginia, and again for a moment in the
flare of the Restoration, his popularity had been real, but for long now
it had dwindled. He belonged to an earlier time, and he held fast to old
ideas that were decaying at the heart. A bigot for the royal power,
a man of class with a contempt for the generality and its clumsily
expressed needs, he grew in narrowness as he grew in years. Berkeley
could in these later times write home, though with some exaggeration:
"I thank God there are no free schools nor printing, and I hope we shall
not have these hundred years; for learning has brought disobedience into
the world and printing has divulged them, and libels against the best
governments! God keep us from both!" But that was the soured zealot
for absolutism--William Berkeley the man was fond enough of books and
himself had written plays.

The spirit of the time was reactionary in Virginia as it was reactionary
in England. Harsh servant and slave laws were passed. A prison was to
be erected in each county; provision was made for pillory and stocks and
duckingstool; the Quakers were to be proceeded against; the Baptists
who refused to bring children to baptism were to suffer. Then at last in
1670 came restriction of the franchise:

"Act III. ELECTION OF BURGESSES BY WHOM. WHEREAS the usuall way of
chuseing burgesses by the votes of all persons who having served their
tyme are freemen of this country who haveing little interest in the
country doe oftener make tumults at the election to the disturbance of
his Majestie's peace, than by their discretions in their votes provide
for the conservation thereof, by makeing choyce of persons fitly
qualifyed for the discharge of soe greate a trust, And whereas the
lawes of England grant a voyce in such election only to such as by
their estates real or personall have interest enough to tye them to
the endeavour of the publique good; IT IS HEREBY ENACTED, that none but
freeholders and housekeepers who only are answerable to the publique for
the levies shall hereafter have a voice in the election of any burgesses
in this country."

     *Hening's "Statutes", vol. II, p. 280.


Three years later another woe befell the colony. That same Charles
II--to whom in misfortune Virginia had so adhered that for her loyalty
she had received the name of the Old Dominion--now granted "all that
entire tract, territory, region, and dominion of land and water commonly
called Virginia, together with the territory of Accomack," to Lord
Culpeper and the Earl of Arlington. For thirty-one years they were to
hold it, paying to the King the slight annual rent of forty shillings.
They were not to disturb the colonists in any guaranteed right of life
or land or goods, but for the rest they might farm Virginia. The country
cried out in anger. The Assembly hurried commissioners on board a ship
in port and sent them to England to besiege the ear of the King.

Distress and discontent increased, with good reason, among the mass of
the Virginians. The King in England, his councilors, and Parliament,
played an unfatherly role, while in Virginia economic hardships pressed
ever harder and the administration became more and more oppressive.
By 1676 the gunpowder of popular indignation was laid right and left,
awaiting the match.



CHAPTER XII. NATHANIEL BACON

To add to the uncertainty of life in Virginia, Indian troubles flared up
again. In and around the main settlements the white man was safe enough
from savage attack. But it was not so on the edge of the English world,
where the white hue ran thin, where small clusters of folk and even
single families built cabins of logs and made lonely clearings in the
wilderness.

Not far from where now rises Washington the Susquehannocks had taken
possession of an old fort. These Indians, once in league with the
Iroquois but now quarreling violently with that confederacy, had
been defeated and were in a mood of undiscriminating bitterness and
vengeance. They began to waylay and butcher white men and women and
children. In self protection Maryland and Virginia organized in common
an expedition against the Indian stronghold. In the deep woods beyond
the Potomac, red men and white came to a parley. The Susquehannocks sent
envoys. There was wrong on both sides. A dispute arose. The white men,
waxing angry, slew the envoys--an evil deed which their own color in
Maryland and in Virginia reprehended and repudiated. But the harm
was done. From the Potomac to the James Indians listened to Indian
eloquence, reciting the evils that from the first the white man had
brought. Then the red man, in increasing numbers, fell upon the outlying
settlements of the pioneers.

In Virginia there soon arose a popular clamor for effective action. Call
out the militia of every county! March against the Indians! Act! But the
Governor was old, of an ill temper now, and most suspicious of popular
gatherings for any purpose whatsoever. He temporized, delayed, refused
all appeals until the Assembly should meet.

Dislike of Berkeley and his ways and a growing sense of injury and
oppression began to quiver hard in the Virginian frame. The King was
no longer popular, nor Sir William Berkeley, nor were the most of the
Council, nor many of the burgesses of that Long Assembly. There arose a
loud demand for a new election and for changes in public policy.

Where a part of Richmond now stands, there stretched at that time a
tract of fields and hills and a clear winding creek, held by a young
planter named Nathaniel Bacon, an Englishman of that family which
produced "the wisest, greatest, meanest of mankind." The planter himself
lived farther down the river. But he had at this place an overseer
and some indentured laborers. This Nathaniel Bacon was a newcomer
in Virginia--young man who had been entered in Gray's Inn, who had
traveled, who was rumored to have run through much of his own estate.
He had a cousin, also named Nathaniel Bacon, who had come fifteen years
earlier to Virginia "a very rich, politic man and childless," and whose
representations had perhaps drawn the younger Bacon to Virginia. At any
rate he was here, and at the age of twenty-eight the owner of much land
and the possessor of a seat in the Council. But, though he sat in
the Council, he was hardly of the mind of the Governor and those who
supported him.

It was in the spring of 1676 that there began a series of Indian attacks
directed against the plantations and the outlying cabins of the region
above the Falls of the Far West. Among the victims were men of Bacon's
plantation, for his overseer and several of his servants were slain. The
news of this massacre of his men set their young master afire. Even a
less hideous tale might have done it, for he was of a bold and ardent
nature.

Riding up the forest tracks, a company of planters from the threatened
neighborhood gathered together. "Let us make a troop and take fire and
sword among them!" There lacked a commander. "Mr. Bacon, you command!"
Very good; and Mr. Bacon, who is a born orator, made a speech dealing
with the "grievances of the times." Very good indeed; but still there
lacked the Governor's commission. "Send a swift messenger to Jamestown
for it!"

The messenger went and returned. No commission. Mr. Bacon had made an
unpleasant impression upon Sir William Berkeley. This young man,
the Governor said, was "popularly inclined"--had "a constitution not
consistent with" all that Berkeley stood for. Bacon and his neighbors
listened with bent brows to their envoy's report. Murmurs began and
deepened. "Shall we stand idly here considering formalities, while the
redskins murder?" Commission or no commission, they would march; and in
the end, march they did--a considerable troop--to the up-river country,
with the tall, young, eloquent man at their head.

News reached the Governor at Jamestown that they were marching. In a
tight-lipped rage he issued a proclamation and sent it after them. They
and their leader were acting illegally, usurping military powers that
belonged elsewhere! Let them disband, disperse to their dwellings, or
beware action of the rightful powers! Troubled in mind, some disbanded
and dispersed, but threescore at least would by no means do so. Nor
would the young man "of precipitate disposition" who headed the troop.
He rode on into the forest after the Indians, and the others followed
him. Here were the Falls of the Far West, and here on a hill the Indians
had a "fort." This the Virginia planters attacked. The hills above the
James echoed to the sound of the small, desperate fray. In the end the
red men were routed. Some were slain; some were taken prisoner; others
escaped into the deep woods stretching westward.

In the meantime another force of horsemen had been gathered. It was
headed by Berkeley and was addressed to the pursuit and apprehension
of Nathaniel Bacon, who had thus defied authority. But before Berkeley
could move far, fire broke out around him. The grievances of the people
were many and just, and not without a family resemblance to those that
precipitated the Revolution a hundred years later. Not Bacon alone, but
many others who were in despair of any good under their present masters
were ready for heroic measures. Berkeley found himself ringed about by
a genuine popular revolt. He therefore lacked the time now to pursue
Nathaniel Bacon, but spurred back to Jamestown there to deal as best
he might with dangerous affairs. At Jamestown, willy-nilly, the old
Governor was forced to promise reforms. The Long Assembly should be
dissolved and a new Assembly, more conformable to the wishes of the
people, should come into being ready to consider all their troubles.
So writs went out; and there presently followed a hot and turbulent
election, in which that "restricted franchise" of the Long Assembly
was often defied and in part set aside. Men without property presented
themselves, gave their voices, and were counted. Bacon, who had by now
achieved an immense popularity, was chosen burgess for Henricus County.

In the June weather Bacon sailed down to Jamestown, with a number of
those who had backed him in that assumption of power to raise troops
and go against the Indians. When he came to Jamestown it was to find the
high sheriff waiting for him by the Governor's orders. He was put under
arrest. Hot discussion followed. But the people were for the moment
in the ascendent, and Bacon should not be sacrificed. A compromise
was reached. Bacon was technically guilty of "unlawful, mutinous and
rebellious practises." If, on his knees before Governor, Council, and
Burgesses, he would acknowledge as much and promise henceforth to be his
Majesty's obedient servant, he and those implicated with him should
be pardoned. He himself might be readmitted to the Council, and all in
Virginia should be as it had been. He should even have the commission he
had acted without to go and fight against the Indians.

Bacon thereupon made his submission upon his knees, promising that
henceforth he would "demean himself dutifully, faithfully, and
peaceably." Formally forgiven, he was restored to his place in the
Virginia Council. An eyewitness reports that presently he saw "Mr.
Bacon on his quondam seat with the Governor and Council, which seemed
a marvellous indulgence to one whom he had so lately proscribed as a
rebel." The Assembly of 1676 was of a different temper and opinion from
that of the Long Assembly. It was an insurgent body, composed to a large
degree of mere freemen and small planters, with a few of the richer,
more influential sort who nevertheless queried that old divine right of
rule. Berkeley thought that he had good reason to doubt this Assembly's
intentions, once it gave itself rein. He directs it therefore to confine
its attention to Indian troubles. It did, indeed, legislate on Indian
affairs by passing an elaborate act for the prosecution of the war.
An army of a thousand white men was to be raised. Bacon was to be
commander-in-chief. All manner of precautions were to be taken. But this
matter disposed of, the Assembly thereupon turned to "the redressing
several grievances the country was then labouring under; and motions
were made for inspecting the public revenues, the collectors' accounts,"
and so forth. The Governor thundered; friends of the old order
obstructed; but the Assembly went on its way, reforming here and
reforming there. It even went so far as to repeal the preceding
Assembly's legislation regarding the franchise. All white males who are
freemen were now privileged to vote, "together with the freeholders and
housekeepers."

A certain member wanted some detail of procedure retained because it was
customary. "Tis true it has been customary," answered another, "but
if we have any bad customs amongst us, we are come here to mend 'em!"
"Whereupon," says the contemporary narrator, "the house was set in
a laughter." But after so considerable an amount of mending there
threatened a standstill. What was to come next? Could men go further--as
they had gone further in England not so many years ago? Reform had come
to an apparent impasse. While it thus hesitated, the old party gained in
life.

Bacon, now petitioning for his promised commission against the Indians,
seems to have reached the conclusion that the Governor might promise but
meant not to perform, and not only so, but that in Jamestown his very
life was in danger. He had "intimation that the Governor's generosity
in pardoning him and restoring him to his place in the Council were no
other than previous wheedles to amuse him."

In Jamestown lived one whom a chronicler paints for us as "thoughtful
Mr. Lawrence." This gentleman was an Oxford scholar, noted for "wit,
learning, and sobriety... nicely honest, affable, and without blemish in
his conversation and dealings." Thus friends declared, though foes said
of him quite other things. At any rate, having emigrated to Virginia and
married there, he had presently acquired, because of a lawsuit over land
in which he held himself to be unjustly and shabbily treated through
influences of the Governor, an inveterate prejudice against that ruler.
He calls him in short "an old, treacherous villain." Lawrence and
his wife, not being rich, kept a tavern at Jamestown, and there Bacon
lodged, probably having been thrown with Lawrence before this. Persons
are found who hold that Lawrence was the brain, Bacon the arm, of the
discontent in Virginia. There was also Mr. William Drummond, who will be
met with in the account of Carolina. He was a "sober Scotch gentleman of
good repute"--but no more than Lawrence on good terms with the Governor
of Virginia.

On a morning in June, when the Assembly met, it was observed that
Nathaniel Bacon was not in his place in the Council--nor was he to be
found in the building, nor even in Jamestown itself, though Berkeley had
Lawrence's inn searched for him. He had left the town--gone up the river
in his sloop to his plantation at Curles Neck "to visit his wife, who,
as she informed him, was indisposed." In truth it appears that Bacon
had gone for the purpose of gathering together some six hundred up-river
men. Or perhaps they themselves had come together and, needing a leader,
had turned naturally to the man who was under the frown of an unpopular
Governor and all the Governor's supporters in Virginia. At any rate
Bacon was presently seen at the head of no inconsiderable army for
a colony of less than fifty thousand souls. Those with him were only
up-river men; but he must have known that he could gather besides from
every part of the country. Given some initial success, he might even set
all Virginia ablaze. Down the river he marched, he and his six hundred,
and in the summer heat entered Jamestown and drew up before the Capitol.
The space in front of this building was packed with the Jamestown folk
and with the six hundred. Bacon, a guard behind him, advanced to the
central door, to find William Berkeley standing there shaking with rage.
The old royalist has courage. He tears open his silken vest and fine
shirt and faces the young man who, though trained in the law of the
realm, is now filling that law with a hundred wounds. He raises a
passionate voice. "Here! Shoot me! 'Fore God, a fair mark--a fair mark!
Shoot!"

Bacon will not shoot him, but will have that promised commission to go
against the Indians. Those behind him lift and shake their guns. "We
will have it! We will have it!" Governor and Council retire to consider
the demand. If Berkeley is passionate and at times violent, so is
Bacon in his own way, for an eye-witness has to say that "he displayed
outrageous postures of his head, arms, body and legs, often tossing his
hand from his sword to his hat," and that outside the door he had cried:
"Damn my blood! I'll kill Governor, Council, Assembly and all, and
then I'll sheathe my sword in my own heart's blood!" He is no dour,
determined, unwordy revolutionist like the Scotch Drummond, nor still
and subtle like "the thoughtful Mr. L

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