CHAPTER IV.
COLONISATION OF VIRGINIA.
At the commencement of the seventeenth century a considerable revolution had taken place in the objects of American enterprise and discovery. As the greatness and the immense resources of the new world opened before the European mind, the grasp of mind itself and of human interests widened in proportion. The vain hope of the new passage to the East Indies, which prompted Columbus and others to sail first westward, was now becoming a secondary motive. To this had succeeded the desire for the acquisition of gold, a rabid appetite, whether a more bitter curse to the aborigines or the European it is hard to say; the islands and equatorial regions had also ministered to the luxury and indulgence of the conqueror by all their affluence of tropical productions. Selfishness and aggrandisement had prevailed; but gradually, as morning will succeed to night, a nobler and better purpose had begun to operate, and these new-found realms were regarded as a wide field on which to found states and establish Christian colonies; they had already become the refuge of the oppressed, they might be still more so: they had already given an impulse to commercial enterprise, they would do so still more.
England, of all European nations, was perhaps most fitted to profit by this enlarged sphere of operation. She had even then, apparently, an excess of population, and “the timid character of king James having thrown out of employment the gallant men who had served under Elizabeth, both by sea and land, no other choice was left to them but either to engage in the quarrels of other nations, or incur the hazards of seeking a new world.” The expeditions sent out by the intelligence of Sir Walter Raleigh, had turned the public mind to Virginia. Gosnold, a bold seaman, whose ship first sailed directly across the Atlantic, and who entertained the highest opinion of the capabilities of the New World for colonisation, had long endeavoured to persuade his friends to make trial of it for that purpose. Schemes of this kind were revolving in the minds of various people at the same time. Sir Ferdinand Gorges, who had learned much regarding America from George Weymouth, entertained the most favourable ideas on the subject; Sir John Popham, the lord chief justice of England; the assignees of Sir Walter Raleigh, and Richard Hakluyt, the historian of maritime adventure, all favoured the establishment of a colony in the New World.
Gosnold at length induced three persons to engage with him in the enterprise, Edward Maria Wingfield, a merchant of the west of England, Robert Hunt, a clergyman, and the brave and energetic John Smith, a man of singular perseverance, indomitable courage, and possessed of every quality necessary for the successful adventurer. These, assisted by the influence of Popham and Gorges, succeeded, in 1606, in obtaining from James I. a patent for the establishment of a colony in Virginia.
The English monarch claimed the whole of that portion of North America lying between the 34th and 45th degrees of north latitude, from Cape Fear on the coast of North Carolina to Halifax in Nova Scotia. This territory was now divided into two portions, North Virginia, extending from the 41st to the 45th degree, and South Virginia, from the 34th to the 38th degree.
The first was granted to a company of “knights, gentlemen and merchants of the west of England, incorporated as the Plymouth Company;” the second to a company of “noblemen, gentlemen and merchants, mostly resident in London,” and which was called the London Company. The intermediate district, included in neither patent, was open to both companies, yet neither were permitted to extend their settlement within a hundred miles of the other.
The conditions of the charter were homage and rent, the rent being one-fifth of the net produce of gold and silver, and of copper one-fifteenth. The supreme government was vested in a council residing in England; local government alone was permitted to the colonists themselves. The members of the supreme council were nominated by the king, and even over the colonial councils the king preserved a control, being able to nominate and remove according to his royal pleasure. In all respects the king was the supreme head; the legislative and executive power lay in his hands; the colonists had no power of self-government. This first charter granted to an English-American colony was merely a simple charter for commercial purposes. The English government cherished through the whole scheme the hope of a considerable revenue from its colonies in Virginia; a duty to be levied on vessels trading to the harbours was to be applied to the use of the colony for one and twenty years, after which time it should lapse to the king. The code of laws also for the colony was drawn up by the king; religion was strictly enjoined to be according to the teachings of the English church; no emigrant might withdraw his allegiance from the king nor dissent from the royal creed. Dangerous tumults and seditions were punishable by death, as well as murder, manslaughter, and adultery. All civil causes involving corporal punishment, fine or imprisonment, were to be determined by the president and council, who were appointed by the king. There was not an element of popular liberty in the whole stipulated form of government. It was, however, worthy of the peddling, narrow policy and kingcraft of the British Solomon. The only element of enlightenment which it contained was the injunction of kindness to the savage, and the employment of all proper means for his conversion.
The Plymouth company, on receiving their grant, despatched a vessel of discovery, which, however, was taken by the Spaniards. A second went out, and returning, made the most favourable report of the country; the following year, therefore, 1607, a hundred colonists were despatched under the command of George Popham. They landed at the mouth of Kennebec River, west of the Penobscot, and about one hundred and thirty miles north-east of where Boston now stands. Here they erected a few rude huts, threw up slight fortifications, and built a storehouse. The settlement was called St. George. They had landed in the autumn, and the winter was intensely severe; their sufferings were extreme, not only from the severity of the climate and the season, but from want of provisions, their storehouse having been destroyed by fire. Their president also died; and in the following year, disheartened by so disastrous a beginning, they returned to England. This terminated the efforts of the Plymouth company.
The London company despatched a little squadron of three ships, on the 19th of December, 1606, one hundred and nine years after the discovery of this northern portion of the New World by Cabot. The largest vessel did not exceed one hundred tons burden; and the number of colonists was one hundred and five men. England was as yet new to the subject of colonisation, and the party sent out were injudiciously selected; out of the hundred and five persons emigrating to a wilderness where were no homes and no cultivated land, there were only twelve labourers, very few mechanics, and only four carpenters, the rest were gentlemen of fortune, persons with no occupation, many of them of dissolute habits, who had joined the expedition in the hope of gain. Neither were there any men with families. King James had also commanded the names and instructions of the future councillors of the government to be sealed up in a tin box, to be opened only on their arrival in Virginia; none, therefore, on the voyage were possessed of authority—envy and jealousy arose among them, which produced dissension. Besides this, the voyage was long and tedious, owing to Newport, the commander, adhering to the old route by the Canaries and West India islands. The voyage was as long as a slow voyage to Australia in these days. The intention of the colonists had been to establish themselves at the old settlement of Raleigh, but a severe storm fortunately prevented the execution of this design, and drove them into the magnificent Bay of Chesapeake. The headlands at the entrance of the bay were named Cape Henry and Cape Charles, after the sons of the king, which appellation they still retain; and the ships soon afterwards coming into deep water “put the emigrants,” says Smith’s narrative, “into good comfort,” and that name was bestowed on the northern point of a broad river near the estuary of which they lay. The emigrants were greatly pleased by the aspect of the country around them. “Heaven and earth,” says Smith, “seemed never to have agreed better to frame a place for man’s commodious and delightful habitation.” They entered the noble river, which they called after King James, and spent seventeen days in exploring the banks, during which time they encountered a company of hostile natives, and two of their number were wounded. With another tribe of Indians they smoked the calumet of peace. A fine situation, fifty miles above the mouth of the river, was selected for their settlement, the place receiving the name of Jamestown. Here was formed the first permanent English settlement in the New World.
The important sealed-box was opened, and the names of Wingfield, Newport, Gosnold, Smith, and three others, were found nominated to the council. But the dissensions and jealousies which had broken out on the voyage here assumed a more determined aspect. Smith, almost the only man amongst them of superior character and powers of mind, had become an object of jealousy to his fellows, and the council having elected Wingfield as their president, proceeded to exclude Smith from their council, under pretence of his harbouring a design to murder the council, and establish himself as king of Virginia. Smith, however, who had a sincere friend in Robert Hunt, the clergyman, insisted on trial by jury, which he had a right to demand, and was not only acquitted, but restored to his station.
Whilst timber was being felled, wherewith to freight the ships for their homeward voyage, Newport, Smith, and some others, ascended the river to the falls, and were well received by Powhatan, the great Indian chieftain, called “the emperor of the country,” whose residence, a village of twelve wigwams, was near the present city of Richmond, the capital of the present State of Virginia. Powhatan, “a tall, sour, and athletic man, about sixty years old,” was from the first disposed to favour the English. When his people murmured at the intrusion of the strangers, he replied, “they hurt you not; they take but a little waste land.” Powhatan evidently did not possess the prophetic gift of the wise Indians who, twenty years before, on the very same shores, foretold that “there were more of the English generation yet to come, to kill theirs and take their places!”
Newport set sail for England in June, carrying with him a favourable report; but scarcely was he gone, when a change came over the aspect of all things. Disease broke out among the settlers; their provisions were not abundant, the water was bad: the glorious country around them, in the beauty of which they had at first rejoiced, became an appalling wilderness; the rank luxuriance of the soil needed clearance before new harvests could be expected, but the colonists were unused to and disinclined for labour; discontent gave place to despair; distress of mind added to disease of body, and within a fortnight after the departure of the ships, it is related that scarcely ten men out of the whole number were able to stand; the fortifications could scarcely be completed, and no ground tilled. The fort by autumn was filled with the groans of the sick, whose outcries night and day for six weeks rent the hearts of those who could afford no relief. Frequently three or four died in a night. Fifty had perished before the close of the autumn, and among these the brave and excellent Bartholomew Gosnold, the projector of the enterprise, and one of the few whose influence had preserved some degree of concord in the council.
To add to the misery of the time, Wingfield, their president, a selfish, unprincipled man, was found to have appropriated the best stores to his own use, himself living luxuriously, whilst the others were starving. On his detection, he attempted to escape to the West Indies, in a bark which had been left for the use of the colonists, but was prevented and expelled from the council. A new president was appointed, but one wholly inadequate to the exigencies of the colony, and by a sort of law of necessity, rather than by general consent, the management of all fell into the hands of Smith, the only man whose wisdom and energy were sufficient to retrieve their desperate affairs.
Smith was possessed of a spirit of heroic daring. He had set out on brave adventures when a boy, and though not yet thirty, had been a champion in the service of humanity and Christianity. In his youth he had fought for the independence of the Batavian republic, in the wars of the Low Countries. He had travelled through France, had visited Egypt, and returned by Italy. Again, eager for action and glory, he had fought against the followers of Mahomet on the borders of Hungary, and during these combats had distinguished himself, both with the Christians and infidels, by his magnanimity and bravery. His extraordinary courage had attracted the notice and gained for him the favour of the unfortunate Sigismund Bathori, Prince of Transylvania. At length, being overcome in a sudden skirmish among the wild valleys of Wallachia, he was left on the field of battle severely wounded. Being now taken captive he was sold as a slave in Constantinople. But here his romantic fortune by no means deserted him. A Turkish lady had compassion on his youth and sufferings, and wishing to befriend him sent him to a fortress in the Crimea. The intentions of his protectress were, however, defeated for some time; he fell into the hands of a savage taskmaster, whom however he killed, and then seizing a horse, gallopped away to freedom on the confines of Russia. Here again, the kindness of woman aided him in his extreme need; and thence, travelling across the country to Transylvania, he bade farewell to his brothers in arms, resolving to return “to his own country.” On his way home, however, tidings of civil war in northern Africa drew his steps aside, and he had many a perilous adventure in the realms of Morocco.
Reaching England, he heard of the projected colonisation of North America, a scheme so entirely consonant with his nature, that he entered into it at once, with all the energy and enthusiasm of his character. And now here he was, as we have seen, in the autumn of 1607, the sole hope and support of the infant colony of Virginia, which, without his integrity and force of character, his cheerful temperament and sagacity, must have miserably perished.
Smith was equal to the difficulties of his position; his was a mind fruitful in resources, and his high principle rendered him not only strict in the fulfilment of his own arduous duties, but enabled him to enforce the fulfilment of duty in others. Under the former governors the natives had become unfriendly, he, on the contrary, conciliated them; “he was more anxious,” says the record of the colony, “to gather provisions than to find gold;” and before the winter commenced, the Indians brought in voluntary supplies. The colonists also, influenced by his spirit, now laboured earnestly to complete their fortifications and erect huts for the winter.
As soon as the new spirit of activity and hope had given a brighter aspect to the affairs of the colony, Smith set out to accomplish one of the strictly-enjoined purposes of the colonists; that, namely, of seeking for a communication with the South Sea, by ascending some river which flowed from the north-west. A little above Jamestown, a river called Chickahominy, and which flowed into the James river, seemed to answer this purpose, it being supposed that the continent of America was narrow, and that some river unquestionably would be found to serve as a connexion between the two seas. Smith, who was not as ignorant as his employers, and who entertained no expectation of reaching the Pacific Ocean by any such means, nevertheless was well pleased, having left the colony in a comparative state of comfort and prosperity, with abundant provisions for the winter, to diversify his life by new adventures. Advancing therefore up the river Chickahominy, accompanied by two Englishmen and two Indian guides, as far as was practicable by boat, he struck into the interior with a single Indian guide, leaving the boat under the guardianship of the two Englishmen. Scarcely, however, had he set forth when the English, disregarding some of his injunctions, were attacked and killed by the Indians, and he himself suddenly assailed by a large party. Binding his Indian guide to his arm as a buckler, he fought manfully, killing three of his assailants; unfortunately, however, in stepping backwards, he found himself on the edge of a morass; his feet sank, and he was taken prisoner. Accustomed to the views and sentiments of savage hordes in his captivity in southern Russia, he now availed himself of that knowledge, and acted in accordance with it. He neither begged for his life from the Indians, nor appeared cast down. They carried him away captive, but his self-possession never forsook him; marching through the forest he took out his pocket-compass and explained to them its use, and then from the globe-like figure of that instrument, as he himself relates, instructed them regarding the roundness of the earth, and how “the sun did chase the night about the earth continually.” His captivity among this tribe of Indians was a more wonderful and interesting event than any other preserved in their traditions. He wrote to the colony at Jamestown, and his letter increased the wonder of the savages at the miraculous power which existed within him; he seemed to them to convey a magical intelligence to the paper. His fame spread through all the kindred tribes, and he was conveyed as an object of curiosity from the Indian settlements on the Chickahominy, to those on the Rappahannock and the Potomac, and so on to the residence of Opechancanough at Pamunky. Here, for three days, the Indian priests or sorcerers practised incantations and mystical ceremonies to ascertain the designs and character of their extraordinary prisoner. He remained perfectly calm, as if regardless of his fate or assured of his safety. The Indians were amazed and confounded; they had never, unless among their bravest men, seen a courage and equanimity equal to this, they treated him with hospitality and reverence, as if to propitiate the superior powers that dwelt within him.
POCAHONTAS INTERCEDING FOR JOHN SMITH.
The decision of his fate was referred to Powhatan, then residing at some little distance, and thither he was removed. The grim warriors of the forest, arrayed in all the pomp of savage attire, received him in solemn council. They deliberated and consulted among themselves, and feeling him to be a superior, as well as overcome by their fears, doomed him to death. His execution, however, was not immediate, and in the meantime he employed himself in making hatchets and stringing beads, which he gave to Pocahontas, the daughter of Powhatan, a girl of ten or twelve years of age, who for beauty of countenance and spirit, combined with gentleness, so far excelled all the maidens of her people that she was called “the nonpareil of the country.” At length the day of his doom was fixed; he was to die by the blows of the hatchet; the hour was come; he knelt on the place of execution, and already the uplifted hatchet was raised, but at the same moment Pocahontas, obeying an impulse of mercy, sprang to his side, threw her arms round his neck, and laying her head upon his, interposed herself between him and death. Her devotion and entreaties spared his life. The Indians, whom his superiority had so long awed, now resolved to make of him a friend and adopt him into their nation. They offered him every temptation which lay in their power to induce him to join them in attacking the white men who had settled at Jamestown. His firmness in resisting their offers inspired them with still higher respect, and they dismissed him with promises of friendship. His captivity was of great advantage to the colony; he not only had become acquainted with the country considerably inland, but with the Indian language and character, and was the means of establishing a friendly intercourse between the English colony and the tribes of Powhatan.
Returned to the colony, he found its numbers reduced to forty, and all disheartened and disunited, and the ablest among them so wearied by the hardships of colonial life that they were about to desert in the pinnace. Smith, at the hazard of his life, prevented this; by reason and firmness he once more established order, and the wants of the colony were relieved by the generous Pocahontas, who not satisfied with having saved the great chief from death, came now every few days with her companions, to bring baskets of corn for him and his people.
Newport was re-despatched, almost immediately on his return to the colony, with supplies and one hundred and thirty fresh emigrants in two vessels. The hope of the old colonists, which had revived at the sight of their new associates, soon died away again; for this reinforcement was only a repetition of the old disastrous elements. The new-comers were vagabond gentlemen, refiners of gold, goldsmiths, and jewellers. Smith, for the first time, was almost disheartened himself. They would neither build nor cultivate, but fancying that they should discover grains of gold in the micacious sands of a stream near Jamestown, they set to work, and, as Smith himself records, “there was now no talk, no hope, no work, but dig gold, wash gold, refine gold, load gold.” The whole colony was mad about gold; and Newport having remained fourteen weeks in harbour, idling away his time and consuming with his crew the provisions of the colony, which were already considerably diminished by the accidental burning of the storehouse, sailed away, having laden his ship with the glittering earth, and, contrary to the assertions of Smith, believing that he was conveying home vast treasures. Wingfield and some of his partisans sailed with him. The other ship was, by the strenuous advice of Smith, laden with cedar, skins and furs, and furnished the first valuable remittance from Virginia to the mother-country.
Disgusted at the folly of the colonists, upon whom his better reason had no influence, Smith left them for awhile to their own devices, and with a few companions made two voyages during the summer months in an open boat to explore the Bay of Chesapeake and its affluents: and in this manner he accomplished about three thousand miles. He surveyed the Bay of Chesapeake to the Susquehanna. He was the first to make known to the English the fame of the Mohawks, who dwelt upon the great water, and had many boats and many men, and who, according to the feebler Algonquin tribes, made war upon the whole world. He discovered and explored the Patapsco, and probably entered the harbour of Baltimore. He entered the mighty Potomac, which at its outlet is seven miles broad, which he ascended beyond the present Mount Vernon and Washington, as far as its falls above Georgetown. Nor did he content himself with merely exploring rivers; he penetrated into the country, and established friendly relationships with various tribes of powerful Indians, many of them in perpetual warfare one with another. On his second expedition he brought back with him to Jamestown a cargo of corn. He prepared an account of his voyage, with descriptions of the country and the natives, accompanied by a map, which remains extant to this time, and which is singularly correct.
Shortly after his return, Smith was made president of the colony. Subordination and industry now began to prevail. The first corn of their own planting was reaped. Again Newport arrived with fresh emigrants, two of whom were women. There came also a few Poles and Germans to teach the art of making pitch, tar, potash and glass. The company in London wrote by this vessel in a very angry strain. They were greatly dissatisfied that their heavy outlays produced no return, for, of course, the shining earth which Newport carried back with him on his voyage was found to be utterly worthless. They now required a lump of gold; the positive discovery of a direct passage to the South Sea, or some of the lost company planted on Roanoke! “If,” said they, “the colonists do not send back valuable commodities to defray the expenses of the voyage, amounting to £2,000, they shall henceforth be left to manage for themselves, as banished men.”
Smith very justly wrote back, “I entreat you send me but thirty carpenters, husbandmen, gardeners, fishermen, blacksmiths, masons, and diggers up of the roots of trees, well provided, rather than a thousand of such as we now have.”
But for the wisdom and efficiency of this brave man, the colony must have perished. Making the best of such as he had, the gentlemen, whom necessity had taught the use of the axe, were employed in cutting down timber to freight his ship. He obliged them to work six hours a day; “he who will not work, shall not eat” was his law. Jamestown, by the close of autumn, assumed a more habitable appearance, but as yet only between thirty and forty acres of land had been brought into cultivation. Food was still so scanty that they were obliged to seek for supplies from the Indians. Smith went himself to Powhatan for this purpose, but found the old chief unfriendly; nay, a scheme was even laid to take his life, and again he was saved by Pocahontas, who came through a midnight storm to warn him of his danger. Newport was despatched with a cargo of timber, and specimens of tar, pitch, and potash, prepared by the Germans.
The corporate company in London boasted of the success of the enterprise, spite of their angry letter and threats to the colony itself, and powerful men became its adherents; among these was Cecil, the inveterate enemy of Raleigh, who had first called public attention to the colonisation of these very shores, and who now, at this time, was a prisoner in the Tower of London. This body having thus become more important at home, without any knowledge or sanction of the colony itself, entirely changed its constitution. The territory was also extended by a grant of all lands on the sea-coast, within the limits of two hundred miles north, and two hundred miles south of old Point Comfort.
A new charter was obtained, which transferred the power formerly vested in the king to the company. The shareholders at home were now the legislators. A governor, in whom was vested uncontrolled power, was to be appointed by them. The lives, liberties, fortunes of the colonists were to be all placed in the hands of this one man; to the colonists themselves not a single privilege was conceded.
Lord De la Ware was appointed governor, with a lieutenant-governor, admiral, vice-admiral, high-marshal, and other officers, with high-sounding titles under him, all of whom were appointed for life. A general enthusiasm was awakened at home towards this Virginian colony, and 500 emigrants offered themselves and were accepted. Lord De la Ware, not being able immediately to take possession of his new government, Newport, now admiral, set sail in June, 1609, with a fleet of nine vessels, Sir Thomas Gates and Sir George Somers being sent out to administer the government till Lord De la Ware’s arrival. The admiral and the two deputy-governors sailing in the same vessel, disagreed on the important subject of precedence, and in a violent storm off the Bermudas were stranded on the rocks, and one vessel being lost, seven only reached Virginia.
Smith found himself now in a difficult position. The old charter under which he held authority was at an end; there was now, in the absence of the stranded vessel, which had on board all the officials, no one in the colony who could legally assume the government. The new emigrants were, if possible, worse than any who had hitherto arrived. “Dissolute gallants,” says the chronicle, “packed off to escape worse destinies at home, broken tradesmen, rakes and libertines, men fitter to breed a riot than form a colony.” “It was not the will of God,” says Bancroft beautifully, “that the new state should be formed of these materials—that such men should be the fathers of a progeny born on the American soil, who were one day to assert American liberties by their eloquence, and defend it by their valour.”
Smith, however, with his incomparable power of organisation and rule, contrived for some little time to bring these turbulent elements under control, and by devising new expeditions and settlements to give them employment. At last the explosion of a bag of gunpowder in his boat deprived the colony of his valuable services. He was severely injured; and as the colony furnished no surgical aid, he was compelled to return to England to seek it in one of the latelyarrived vessels, after having delegated his authority to Percy, brother of the Earl of Northumberland. He left about 500 persons in Virginia, well supplied with arms, provisions, and goods for Indian traffic. There were about sixty dwelling-houses in the town, besides a fort, a church, and a storehouse; there was a good stock of goats, of hogs, sheep, and poultry, together with a few horses; with about forty acres of land brought into cultivation. He had weathered the storm of the early days of the colony; in all the difficulties of his situation he had exhibited a courage and perseverance, a coolness of judgment, a patience and wisdom, which have scarcely ever been equalled. “He was,” says the historian, “accustomed to lead, not to send his men into danger; he would suffer rather than borrow, starve rather than not pay. He had nothing counterfeit in his nature; but was open, honest, and sincere.” We have dwelt long on the deeds and character of this brave, true man, because it is ever a pleasure to find such an one.
No sooner was Smith gone than subordination, and industry were at an end. The colonists abandoned themselves to idleness and indulgence; the store of provisions was consumed. Percy, to whom Smith had delegated his authority, had not the power to enforce it; no one regarded him. The unoffending Indians being attacked and murdered by the settlers, now became hostile, and refused to contribute any further supplies. The horrors of absolute famine faced them; a company of thirty seized a small vessel belonging to the colony, and sailed away as pirates. In the traditions of Virginia this horrible season of winter, famine, and crime, is known as the starving time. By the spring of the following year, of the 490 persons whom Smith had left in health and comparative comfort, only sixty remained, and these so reduced and dispirited that a few days longer would have terminated their sufferings.
This terrible time, like the flood in the days of Noah, was one of the wise judgments of God, sent to sweep away those who were unfit to live. It was not the will of God that the state should be formed of such base materials; we repeat the words, as true.
A few days would have ended the lives of the remnant that was left, but help came within the time. The ship that had been wrecked on the Bermudas arrived without loss of life. For nine months the shipwrecked men had remained on an uninhabited but fertile island, where they had been well sustained. From the wreck of their own ship and timber which they felled, they constructed two vessels, and in these safely reached their destination. They came expecting to be received by a prosperous and happy colony; far different was the scene which presented itself—the extremity of distress, death by starvation even for themselves if they remained, was that which they found. Gates resolved at once to sail for Newfoundland, and seek safety among the fishermen there. Four pinnaces lay in the river belonging to the colonists, and in these they all determined to embark; the colonists were anxious to leave for ever the scene of their misery, determining, as a last act, to burn the town in which they had suffered so much; this, however, Gates, who was the last to leave the shore, prevented. They fell down the stream with the tide, and “none,” says the chronicle, “dropped a tear, for none had enjoyed there one day of happiness.” As they approached the mouth of the stream, a boat was seen advancing towards them. It was the long-boat of Lord De la Ware, now put off to land from one of the three ships with which he had come from England, bringing new colonists and provisions! The hand of God surely was in this. The disheartened fugitives bore up the helm, and with a favouring wind entered once more the harbour of Jamestown. It was well for them now that there were houses left to receive them.
It was on the 11th of June, and with solemn services of thanksgiving to Heaven, the restored colonists took possession of their former place. A deep sense of the infinite mercies of God now, for the first time, impressed its character upon the colony. The remnant of the original colonists who had been saved from famine, the remnant of the former emigrants who had been saved from shipwreck, were now restored and provided for as by a miracle, whilst they, the new-comers, who had expected joy and prosperity, and found instead misery and want, were evidently the angels of God’s providence. This was an occasion which could not but deeply impress all. “It is,” said they, “the arm of the Lord of Hosts, who would have his people pass the Red Sea and the wilderness before they could possess the promised land.”
After solemn religious service, Lord De la Ware read his commission. A consultation was held for the good of the colony; government was organised with mildness but decision. The terrible crisis through which the colony had passed, like the effect of severe fever on the human frame, had left it at first weak perhaps, but renovated as by a new principle of life; the disease—the moral disease—was gone from the colony. The colonists now performed, with obedience and alacrity, their duties in truth and piety, assembling every morning before commencing the labours of the day in the little church, which was kept neatly trimmed with the wild flowers of the country, after which they returned home and received their allowance of food. Labour went on with cheerfulness; the houses were made warm and home-like. Comfort and prosperity returned to the colony.
In the dawn of this better day the health of the excellent Lord De la Ware declined. His mild virtues had been as efficient in the milder elements now composing the colony, as the higher character of Smith had been on its more turbulent elements; and his loss at this time was very great. He returned to England within less than a year of his arrival, leaving Percy, as Smith had done before him, as his deputy. The colony now consisted of 200 men, and the departure of their beloved governor cast a gloom on all hearts.
Fortunately Sir Thomas Dale, a worthy and experienced soldier in the Low Countries, had been already despatched from England with supplies; and he arriving in the colony very soon after Lord De la Ware’s departure, assumed the government, which he administered well, though with severity, and more according to martial than civil law. Dale, nevertheless, was a judicious governor; he saw the wants of the colony, and he strenuously endeavoured to remedy them. As regarded the small number and ill-provided condition of the colonists, he wrote home entreating that these things should be cared for, assuring the company that their purses and their endeavours would never open nor travel in a more meritorious enterprise. “Take four of the best kingdoms of Christendom,” says he, “and put all together, they may in no way compare with this country, either for commodities or goodness of soil.” And Lord De la Ware in England testified to the same effect. In consequence of these representations, really efficient aid came. Sir Thomas Gates, now appointed governor, conducted six ships to Virginia, with 300 emigrants, 100 head of cattle, and other liberal supplies. And as “to oblige quickly is to oblige twice,” this aid was doubly welcome, because it was promptly given. Dale wrote his letter in May, and on the last day of August Sir Thomas Gates and his ships were seen advancing towards Jamestown. The colonists, who least of all expected so ready a response to their wishes, seeing what appeared a large fleet advancing, dreaded that an enemy might be at hand. This was a new terror, a new misfortune. As the fleet approached, however, they perceived, with unspeakable joy, that they were friends.
Sir Thomas Gates assumed his government with an act of solemn thanksgiving; and so deep was the sentiment of gratitude in the hearts of the colonists for this real, and, as it seemed, generous aid, that for a long time the morning and evening prayer of the colonists was, “Lord, bless England, our sweet native country!”
The colony now numbered 700. New settlements were formed, one situated up the river, called Henrico, after Prince Henry; and here, on the frontiers of the Indians, Alexander Whitaker, the “Apostle of Virginia,” preached the word of God to the natives. But perhaps the most efficient change which occurred in the colony had reference to the now established law of private property. To each man was allotted a few acres of land for a garden and orchard. Hitherto the land had all been worked in common, and the produce deposited in public stores. The excellent results of the new arrangement were soon apparent in the increased industry of all. To this shortly followed larger assignments of land, and before long the mode of common labour in the common field, to fill the public stores, was wholly abandoned. From this time the sanctity of private property, at least as regarded the colonists, was recognised. The colonists themselves still made free with the possessions of the Indians; as regarded them, might, which was strong in their hands, was right, as is too often the case where the civilised man deals with the savage.
In March, 1612, a new charter was obtained by the London company for Virginia, which produced an important change in the constitution of the colony, and through which the first seed of democracy was introduced into the government of Anglo-America. Hitherto, as we have seen, all power had been vested in the council, which under the first charter was appointed by the king; now the control of the company’s affairs was removed from the council, and placed in the hands of the stockholders themselves, who were empowered to convene meetings for the transaction of the lesser business, whilst a great and general court was held once a quarter for important business. This charter also allowed the company to raise money by means of lotteries; but this liberty, after a few years, was withdrawn as a public evil.
The powers of the company were increased by the new charter, and the affairs of the colony assumed an aspect of stable prosperity. As in the days of Smith, the Indians entered into treaties of alliance, nay, even went beyond it, declaring themselves tributaries of the English.
A marriage now took place in the colony, which forms an important event in its annals, and the details of which we must give somewhat at length. Captain Argall, an adventurer, who had come to Virginia in a trading ship, being on one occasion sent up the Potomac to trade for corn, fell in with the young Indian girl, Pocahontas, who had at that time been absent from the colony of Jamestown for two years. Aided by a chief of the district, whom Argall had bribed with a brass kettle, Pocahontas was induced to go on board his ship, when he carried her off to Jamestown. Powhatan demanded the restoration of his daughter, which Argall refused without ransom. The naturally indignant chief prepared for war, when a deliverer appeared for the young Indian girl in the person of John Rolfe, an honest and discreet young Englishman. I will give the narrative in the words of Bancroft. “Rolfe was an amiable enthusiast, who had emigrated to the forests of Virginia, daily, hourly, and as it were in his very sleep, hearing a voice crying in his ears that he should strive to make Pocahontas a Christian. With the solicitude of a troubled soul, he reflected on the true end of his being. ‘The Holy Spirit,’ such are his own expressions, ‘demanded of me why I was created? and conscience whispered, that, rising above the censure of the low-minded, I should lead the blind in the right paths.’ After a great struggle of mind, and daily and believing prayers, he resolved to labour for the conversion of the unregenerated maiden, and winning the favour of Pocahontas herself, he desired her in marriage. Quick of comprehension, the Indian girl received instruction readily, and soon, in the little church of Jamestown, which rested on rough pine columns, fresh from the forest, and was in a style of rugged architecture as wild, if not as frail, as an Indian wigwam, she stood before the font which had been hollowed from the trunk of a tree, and, renouncing her country’s idolatry, professed the faith of Jesus Christ, and was baptized.” The gaining of this one soul, the first-fruits of Virginian conversion, was followed by her nuptials with Rolfe. In April, 1613, to the joy of Sir Thomas Dale, with the approbation of her father and her friends, Opachisco, her uncle, gave the bride away; and she stammered before the altar her marriage-vows according to the rites of the English church.
Every historian of Virginia commemorates the marriage of Rolfe to the Indian Pocahontas with approbation. In the year 1616, the Indian wife, instructed in the English language, and bearing the English name of Rebecca, the very first Christian of her nation, in company with Dale, who had resigned his office of governor, sailed with her husband for England. The daughter of the wilderness possessed the mild elements of female loveliness, rendered still more beautiful by the child-like simplicity with which her education in the savannahs of the New World had invested her. In London she had the pleasure of meeting with her old friend, John Smith, and by him she was recommended to the notice of the Queen. She was caressed at court, and admired in the city. Nevertheless, so absurd were the prevailing notions at that time regarding royalty in England, that Rolfe narrowly escaped being called to account, because he, a commoner, had married a princess!
“As a wife and a young mother, Pocahontas was exemplary; she had been able to contrast the magnificence of European life with the freedom of the western forest, and now, as she was preparing to return to America, at the age of twenty-two, she fell a victim to the English climate, saved, as by the hand of mercy, from beholding the extermination of the tribes whence she sprung; leaving a spotless name, and surviving in memory under the form of perpetual youth.” The Bollands and the Randolphs, two of the most distinguished families of Virginia, are proud to trace their descent from this marriage.
The portrait of Pocahontas, which is still preserved among her descendants, represents her in the costume which was worn by the higher class of English in the time of Elizabeth; but the stiff Indian plaits of hair which hang down her cheeks from beneath her head-dress betray her descent. The countenance has an affecting expression of child-like goodness and innocence, and the eyes have a melancholy charm. The portrait was taken in 1616, and bears the inscription, Matoakeals. Rebecca potentiss. Princ. Powhatan Imp. Virginæ.
The consequence of this alliance was peace with the Indians, not alone with the Powhatans, but with the powerful Chickahominies. The Indians wished the two nations to blend in one, and proposed more general intermarriage, but the English, who despised the Indians as savages, and abhorred them as heathens, would not promote such union, and by degrees the old animosities were revived.
The same year that Pocahontas was married, her bold abductor, Captain Samuel Argall, who had the spirit of a pirate, sailing up the eastern coast in an armed vessel, discovered that the French had established a little settlement called St. Savieur, near Penobscot, on Mount Desert Island. At once he cannonaded the intrenchments and speedily gained possession. The poor settlers clung to the cross in the middle of the village, while their houses, and their ship lying peacefully in harbour, were pillaged; some of the colonists he sent off to France, others he carried to Jamestown, and among these one of their Jesuit priests, the other being killed.
The colonists of Virginia, jealous of any French settlement on their coasts, despatched Argall again to the north, with the Jesuit prisoner as his pilot; and on this expedition he dispersed the settlement at Port Royal; the place itself, he burned, and the settlers took shelter in the woods. On his return, he entered the harbour now called New York, and compelled the Dutch settlement on the island of Manhattan to acknowledge the English supremacy, and this, although England was then at peace with France and Holland. No sooner, however, was Argall gone, than the French returned to Port Royal, and the Dutch hoisted again their flag on Manhattan.
The prosperity and the anticipated glories of Virginia were now themes of exultation in England; and the theatre, which had formerly made the colony a subject of derision, rang with its praises, and lauded King James as the patron of colonies.
In 1614, Sir Thomas Gates left the colony, appointing Sir Thomas Dale his successor. A few words must now be said regarding the land-law of Virginia. The original grant had allowed all persons coming to Virginia, or sending others, one hundred acres of land for each person so arriving in the colony. This allowance was now reduced to fifty, and so it remained as long as Virginia was a British colony; two shillings for each hundred acres being paid annually as quit-rent. Such emigrants as were sent out at the expense of the company were its servants, bound by indenture to labour for the company, receiving three acres of land each, and being allowed one month’s service for themselves, with a small allowance of two bushels of corn from the public store; the rest of their labour belonged to their employers. This class gradually wore out. Others were tenants of the company, and paid two barrels and a half of corn as an annual contribution to the public store, and gave one month’s labour in the twelve to the public service; but this, however, neither in seed time nor harvest. Other lands were granted as rewards of real or pretended merit, none, however, to exceed two thousand acres to one person. And here it may be mentioned, that to John Smith, the greatest benefactor of the infant colony, not a single acre of land was ever awarded, and he, whose unselfishness was only equal to his merit, never demanded it. To the governor was appointed a plantation to be cultivated for him by the company’s servants; and the other colonial officers were remunerated in the same manner. Twelve pounds ten shillings paid into the company’s treasury, gave a title also to one hundred acres, with a reserved claim for as much more.
Such were the earliest land-laws of Virginia; and imperfect and unequal as they were, they yet enabled the cultivator to become the proprietor of the soil. The cultivation of corn in a few years had become so great, that the colonists, from buyers of corn, had become sellers to the Indians. Tobacco also was cultivated with great success; potash, soap, glass, tar, all gave place now to tobacco. Seeking for gold was happily at an end; fields and gardens, nay, even the public squares and streets of Jamestown, grew tobacco. Tobacco, which was the life of Virginian industry, became its staple produce and finally its currency.
In the midst of all this growing prosperity, the discontents of the colony were justly raised by evils incident to their position under a corporate body, through whom interested parties obtained posts for which they were wholly unfitted, without the colony having a voice in the appointment. Hence, in 1616, Sir Thomas Dale, an able though stern governor, having returned to England, leaving George Yeardley deputy-governor, the notorious Captain Samuel Argall, through the influence of Lord Rich, afterwards Earl of Warwick, was sent out, not only as deputy-governor, but admiral. A more unfit man could not have been selected. Martial law was again the law of the colony. The return of Lord De la Ware was petitioned for, and that excellent man embarked to resume his office, but died on the voyage. Unlimited power was in the rapacious hands of Argall; the labour of the colonists was enforced for his benefit; even life itself was insecure against his capricious passions. The colony appealed to the company on behalf of an innocent man, who for merely speaking freely against his tyranny, was condemned by him to death. Fortunately for the colony, Argall had also defrauded the company; he was therefore deposed, and George Yeardley, a mild and popular man, was appointed captain-general; Argall in the meantime, disappeared from the colony, having fled with the fruits of his peculation to the West Indies, and thence to England, where, strange to say, his partisans, of whom he had many in the company, prevented his being called to account.
Under the administration of Yeardley, who was now knighted, the colony prospered greatly; martial law was abolished; the planters were released from further service to the colony, and the first colonial assembly ever held in Virginia took place at Jamestown, in June, 1619. The exactions and abuses of Argall had led to the concession of law and justice by the company. A great step was gained. This was the dawn of legislative liberty in America. “The colonists, now become willing to regard Virginia as their future home,” says the old chronicler, “fell to building houses and planting corn.”
Fortunately, also, the treasurer of the company in London, Sir Edwin Sandys, a man of great judgment and firmness, investigated the affairs of the colony, and carried out the reform of many abuses. It was now twelve years since the foundation of Jamestown, yet the colony consisted but of six hundred persons, men, women, and children; and in this present year of 1620, Sir Edward Sandys sent out twelve hundred and sixty-one persons. The character of his emigration is also worthy of consideration. Hitherto but few persons going to the colony had done so with the intention of settling; their purpose had been to make money and then return home; few women, therefore, had ventured across the ocean;—now, however, everything was changed for the better; Virginia offered a desirable home for families, therefore “ninety agreeable young women, of incorrupt lives,” through the influence of Sandys, were sent out at the expense of the company, sure of a cordial welcome in the colony, but only to be married to men well able to support them, and who would willingly pay the cost of their passage. This adventure answered so well in every respect, that the next year sixty more “maids of virtuous education, young, handsome, and well recommended,” went out; and so great was the demand for them, that their price rose from one hundred and twenty pounds weight of tobacco, to one hundred and fifty each; and so much was the worth of a man increased by his being married, that the company gave employment by preference to men with wives. The result of this new element in the colony was great, but not more so than was natural. Now commenced the existence of domestic life, and with it virtuous sentiments and habits of thrift. Within three years, so greatly had emigration increased under these circumstances, that 3,500 persons landed in the colony, amongst whom were many Puritan refugees.