fine collection of maps and charts was of great service to Columbus, who now gave his attention to geographical studies more thoroughly than ever. He talked or corresponded with all the learned men of the day. He began to trace charts of his own, correcting the popular errors and traditions by the aid of his own greater knowledge and experience. Rumor, inspired by the stories of early adventures, had studded the far western ocean with wondrous islands, on one of which seven Christian bishops, fleeing from Pagan persecution, had founded seven splendid cities. There were tales of a lofty mountainous country to be seen on clear days far to the westward from the Canary Islands. Plato had told of the ancient continent of Atlantis, which had been sunk beneath the waves of the ocean. Marco Polo, the Venetian adventurer, had told of the great wealth of the East Indies, which he said could be reached by sailing westward from Europe.
However much he discounted the more extravagant of these tales, Columbus was deeply impressed by them all. He became well convinced that far to the west there lay an unexplored region, probably a part of the East Indies, and he believed, with an intense religious zeal, that God had specially commissioned him to discover and explore it. Thereupon he consecrated the whole of his remaining life to the execution of this task. No hazard, nor obstacle, nor disappointment for a moment daunted him. He first applied to the Portuguese Court, stating the grounds of his belief in the existence of an undiscovered country in the western ocean, and asking for the means of ascertaining the truth of it. His proposition was received with indifference, and finally rejected under the influences of jealousy and intrigue. Then he returned to his native Genoa, and there sought the same aid and encouragement; but Genoa was already declining under the stress of domestic discord and foreign war, and was unable to do anything for him.
The fortunes of Columbus were now at a low ebb. He had exhausted his private means, and was in actual destitution. Downcast and disappointed, often begging his food from door to door, he made his way on foot from Genoa to the Court of Spain. Leading his little son by the hand, he one day approached the Spanish capital, and asked for bread and water at a convent door. The prior saw him, talked with him, became interested in him and his schemes, and offered to introduce him at Court. Thus Columbus obtained an interview with Cardinal Mendoza, the chief minister and confidential adviser of the King and Queen, Ferdinand and Isabella. The Cardinal was a man of extensive information and liberal mind, who perceived at once the value of Columbus’s theories and commended them to the sovereigns. The King, also, was apparently a good judge of men, and appreciated the character and ability of Columbus. But he was not willing to embark hastily in so great an enterprise as that proposed. He first called together a council of all the most learned astronomers and geographers in his kingdom, and to them referred Columbus, with his maps and charts and theories.
This council met at Salamanca. It was entirely composed of friars, priests, and monks, who monopolized all the learning, both secular and religious, of that age. Some were men of large and philosophic minds; others, narrow bigots; but all were imbued with the notion that geographical discovery had reached its limits long before. In the presence of this learned body, Columbus, a simple seaman, strong in nothing save the energy of his convictions and the fire of his enthusiasm, had to appear to defend a scheme which to them must have appeared the dream of a madman. The difficulties of his position may be guessed from the nature of some of the objections made to his undertaking. His mathematical propositions and demonstrations were met with quotations from the Book of Genesis, the Psalms, the Prophets, the Epistles, the Gospels, and half a dozen of the Fathers of the Church. When he argued that the earth was spherical, his opponents quoted one of the Psalms, where the heavens are said to be extended like a hide. Some members of the council, for the sake of argument, would admit the rotundity of the earth, but denied the possibility of circumnavigating it, first, because of the intolerable heat of the torrid zone, and second, because it would take at least three years to accomplish the voyage, in which time the explorers would die of hunger, it being impossible to carry provisions sufficient for so long a time. Still others said that if a ship did reach India, she could never return, for the roundness of the globe would place a hill in her way, up which the strongest wind could not blow her.
Such were the absurd notions held by the foremost scholars of those days. It is needless here to recount such arguments further, or the arguments, now familiar to every school-boy, used by Columbus in support of his theory. It is enough to say that he was treated with incredulity, suspicion, and contempt, and narrowly escaped being condemned for heresy. After a long consultation the assembly broke up without arriving at any decision. Then the war with the Moors of Granada absorbed the attention of the Court for several years and exhausted its financial resources. But after years of weary waiting the wish of Columbus was granted. Queen Isabella pledged some of her jewels and in other ways raised a sufficient sum to equip his expedition. In the month of April, 1492, an agreement was drawn up making him Viceroy and Governor-General of all the lands he might discover and placing a number of ships and men at his disposal. On the morning of August 3d, 1492, he and his 120 comrades embarked in three small ships, the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria, and set sail from the little port of Palos, in Andalusia, on the most important voyage in history.
In a few days the expedition reached the Canary Islands, the then western boundary of the known world. Beyond this all was speculation. And of all the members of the expedition Columbus alone had unquestioning faith in the object of the enterprise. Many of the sailors believed, when they had lost sight of the European shore, that they were doomed to inevitable destruction. Thus doubting and murmuring they sailed onward week after week. At one time their discontent and fears culminated in actual mutiny, and they proposed to put Columbus in irons or throw him overboard and return, if possible, to Europe. But he alternately calmed their discontent by promises of rich rewards and awakened their fears by threats of immediate punishment. Thus for two months he kept them in hand. Then as they again grew desperate and bade fair to defy his authority altogether, indications of land not far ahead began to appear. Birds hitherto unknown were seen flying above the waves and wheeling about the ships, and plants and bits of wood were seen in the water. Then the branch of a tree bearing red berries, and a curiously carved instrument, were picked up. These things inspired even the common sailors with hope that they were indeed approaching a shore.
At last, on October 8th, 1492, after sixty-five days of navigation on unknown seas, they discovered land. It was not the American continent, but one of the Bahama Islands, to which Columbus reverently gave the name of St. Salvador. It was inhabited by Indians who received the strangers kindly. Columbus formally took possession of the country in the name of the Christian religion and the King and Queen of Spain. And thus the dream of his youth was fulfilled and the ambition of his manhood was accomplished. The Western World was discovered. Subsequently he visited Cuba, Jamaica, Hayti, Porto Rico, and other islands, but did not reach the main land until his third voyage, when he visited Venezuela. He named the islands the West Indies, supposing them to be a part of the great East Indian Archipelago.
In the month of April, 1493, he returned to the Spanish Court. The City of Barcelona was ablaze with flags and the air was vocal with the roar of artillery, while all the bells of the churches rang peals of triumph in his honor. Years before Columbus had come thither on foot and in rags, begging his bread. Now he rode the streets in more than royal pomp, crowned with the admiration and acclaim of all the populace. Seven natives of the Western World marched in his train, and there was an almost endless display of gold and gems, of carven idols and sculptured masks, of birds and beasts and reptiles, of trees and plants and fruits. Above all waved two banners, one that of Spain which he had unfurled above the new continent, and the other the admiral’s flag bearing in golden letters the inscription,
Nuevo Mundo hallo Colon,[A]
or, For Castile and Leon Columbus has discovered a new world.
Thus he came to the Court where the King and Queen awaited him, and was greeted by them as their equal. There, seated among the nobles of Spain, he gave a brief account of the most striking events of his voyage. The sovereigns listened to him with profound emotion and then fell on their knees to give thanks to God for so great an achievement. For the time being no honor was too great to bestow upon Columbus. He was commissioned to make other voyages to the New World and to take possession of all lands there in the name of Spain. Yet it was only a few years after that that the memory of his splendid services was outweighed by the malice of his foes. He was actually arrested, imprisoned and loaded with irons, and at the end died in disgrace and neglect, at Valladolid, May 20th, 1506.
The discovery made by Columbus was followed up by the Spaniards with the greatest enthusiasm. Within twenty years the four largest of the West Indian Islands were the seats of flourishing colonies, while as yet other nations were contenting themselves with occasional voyages of discovery along the coasts of the continent. The great fertility of the soil, the mildness of the climate, but above all the finding of gold and precious stones, kept the Spaniards alive to the importance of their new possessions and encouraged immigration. Columbus himself made four voyages to the New World, discovering, in his third voyage, the South American continent near the mouth of the Orinoco River, and reaching in his fourth, Honduras and the coast to the south of this region. He never knew what a great discovery he had made and to his death rested under the delusion that he had found the eastern shore of Asia.
In 1499 Alonzo de Ojeda, who had previously accompanied Columbus to the new country, made a voyage on his own account and explored four hundred leagues of the coast of South America. With him sailed Amerigo Vespucci, who afterward made three independent voyages to America and wrote the first account of it; this was published in 1507, and popular prejudice has supposed that his name came thus to be given to the New World.
At the recent Congress of Americanists in Paris, this point was discussed with much warmth. M. Jules Marcon asserted that Vespucci’s name was Alberico instead of Amerigo, and that he changed it after the new continent was named. The true derivation of the name America is Amerique, that being the Indian name of a range of mountains in Central America. Still, some historians declare that very range of mountains to have been called Amerisque, and it is true that in the Florentine language Alberico and Amerigo are identical. Then there is extant a map of the world prepared by one Vallescu of Majorca in 1490, on the back of which is a note to the effect that the map was purchased for one hundred and twenty ducats in gold by Amerigo Vespucci, the merchant. This proves that even if his name was not Amerigo, he sometimes wrote it so.
Other voyagers were Pedro Alonzo Nigno and Vincent Pinzon, the latter being the first Spaniard to cross the equinoctial line. He discovered the mouth of the Amazon River and from there sailed north to the Carribean Sea and the Gulf of Mexico. In the same year (1499), Diego Lope explored the coast of South America far to the southwest.
The discovery and conquest of Mexico and Peru followed. The New World became the Mecca of every reckless and adventurous spirit in Europe. Ojeda sailed under a grant from the King of Spain to found a colony at San Sebastian, and with him went Francisco Pizarro, who thus made the first step in his adventurous career. The colony at San Sebastian was abandoned, and on the return voyage one vessel foundered. The other, commanded by Pizarro, reached Carthagena, where it was met by a fleet conveying men and provisions to the colony. On one of these ships was the adventurer Balboa, who had smuggled himself on board to escape his creditors. Learning that the colony toward which they were sailing had been deserted, Balboa proposed going to Darien, which coast he had already visited. The proposal met with favor and a new town was founded under the name of Santa Maria de la Antigua del Darien. Trouble began immediately, as usual. The man who had brought the fleet thither, Encisco, a lawyer of San Domingo, was imprisoned and Balboa was made alcade of the colony.
The natives of Darien viewed their visitors with anything but favor, and endeavored by strategy to induce them to move on. They represented the neighboring district of Coyba to be much richer in gold and provisions than their own, and Pizarro, with only six men, went on an exploring expedition. The natives were found to be hostile, and on one occasion the Spaniards were surrounded by four hundred warriors, with whom they had a very bloody battle. One hundred and fifty natives were killed, many more wounded, while the Spaniards all escaped with their lives, one man only being too badly hurt to fly. Retreating to Santa Maria, they reported their misfortune, and it is to the credit of Balboa that he obliged them to return and bring back their wounded companion. Coyba was conquered, and an alliance formed with its ruler. Adjacent to it was a range of mountains, at the foot of which was a very rich and highly civilized country called Comagre. The chief invited the Spaniards to his domain, treated them with hospitality, and astonished them with the splendor of his possessions. His palace was a wonderful structure of wood, divided into many apartments. In one of these chambers, the dried and embalmed bodies of the chieftain’s ancestors, clothed in cotton robes, richly embroidered with gold and precious stones, were suspended from the walls. A large amount of gold and seventy slaves were presented to the Spaniards. One-fifth of the gold was set apart for the King, and over the remainder the Christians held such a dispute that the savages were aghast. Finally the young chieftain scornfully remarked that if they were so greedy for gold, he could direct them to a country where it was more common than iron was in their land. “When you have passed this range of mountains,” he continued, “you will behold another ocean, on which are vessels only inferior to those which brought you hither, equipped with sails and oars, but navigated by people naked like ourselves.” Undoubtedly the chief alluded to Peru. This certain proof of the existence of another ocean filled Balboa with delight. He imagined that the country described formed a part of the vast region of the East Indies. Preparations for the enterprise were immediately begun, but in the midst of it all Balboa was summoned to court to answer the charges brought against him by Encisco. Instead of obeying the command, however, he determined to effect the passage to the South Sea before his successor could arrive from Spain. The Isthmus of Darien is only sixty miles in breadth, but a chain of mountains, a continuation of the Andes, runs through its whole extent. Its valleys are marshy and unhealthy, being inundated by rains which prevail nearly two-thirds of the year. These marshes are even more impenetrable than the forests which cover the mountains, and to this day the crossing is not much easier than it was then.
No man but Balboa could have accomplished it. He was not any more courageous than his followers, but he possessed great powers of magnetism as well as prudence, sagacity, and amiability; in a word, he had genius, the genius of leadership. His soldiers were his children. He wished to bear the heaviest burdens himself; his post in battle was the most dangerous of all; his endurance surpassed that of the strongest men. His army consisted of one hundred and ninety Spaniards, one thousand Indians, useful to carry baggage, and some fierce blood-hounds.
Balboa set forth on the 1st of September, 1513. The journey was estimated to be of six days’ duration, but it was only after twenty-five days of desperate fighting, and of struggles with disease and fatigue, that they reached the summit of the mountain from which Balboa had been informed the great ocean could be seen.
Commanding his army to halt, Balboa advanced alone to the apex and there beheld the South Sea stretching before him in boundless extent. Amid great exultation he took formal possession of land and sea, cutting the king’s name on trees and erecting crosses and mounds of stones as records thereof.
Leaving the greater part of his men where they were, Balboa proceeded with eighty Spaniards, and under the guidance of a friendly chief, toward the coast. Arriving at the borders of one of the vast bays, he rushed into the ocean with drawn sword and called upon the witnesses to observe that he possessed it in the name of Spain.
He now wished to make conquest of the countries to the south, which the natives declared to be a great and wealthy empire, but having too few men to attempt the enterprise, he returned to Darien, carrying with him a treasure valued at nearly half a million of dollars—the largest treasure yet collected in America. He sent messengers to Spain, but before these arrived Don Pedrarias Davila had been sent out to supersede him in command. The King, however, in consideration of his services, sent letters appointing Balboa Adelantado or Admiral. The enormous project of conveying ship-building material across the Isthmus was accomplished, and two brigantines were constructed. Adverse weather and other misfortunes prevented the Spaniards from reaching Peru, and Pedrarias recalled Balboa to Darien. Balboa obeyed, never dreaming of the treachery awaiting him. He was seized and imprisoned, and finally condemned to death by the jealous Pedrarias, and the sentence was carried out in spite of the protests of the colonists.
The conquest of Peru was afterward accomplished by Pizarro, who, while he was as able a man as Balboa, was much more cruel and unscrupulous. Three years later Magellan entered the South Sea, after sailing around the southern extremity of the continent. It was Magellan who gave this ocean the name Pacific, in recognition of the fine weather he encountered in crossing it. His fleet reached the islands of the Indian Archipelago, and returned to Europe by way of the Cape of Good Hope, thus completing the first circumnavigation of the globe.
In the same year which witnessed the unjust execution of Balboa (1517), the northern coast of Yucatan was explored, and also the southern coast of Mexico. Instead of encountering naked savages, the explorers were surprised to find well-clad and highly civilized people, so bold and warlike as to drive off the intruders with great slaughter. Velasquez, governor of Cuba, determined to conquer the wealthy country thus discovered, and prepared a fleet of ten vessels, which he sent out under command of Hernando Cortes, a man who had already achieved some military distinction. He landed in Mexico on March 4th, 1519, where his ships and artillery, and especially his horses, created the wildest fear and astonishment among the natives, who regarded the strangers as divine beings. They were soon to be undeceived, however, for a reign of war and oppression was begun, which resulted in the death of the Emperor Montezuma, the levelling of their ancient temples, and the ultimate extinction of the Aztec nation.
Meanwhile, the mainland of the American continent had been visited and partly explored.
The first voyage to the northern coast was made by John Cabot in 1497, under the auspices of Henry VIII of England. His object was less the discovery of a new continent than the finding of a northwest passage to the coast of Asia. Cabot sighted land on the 26th of June, probably the Island of Newfoundland. On the 3d of July he reached the coast of Labrador. He was then the first of modern navigators to discover the North American continent, Columbus being a whole year behind him. Cabot explored the coast for nine hundred miles, in a southerly direction, and returned to England. The next year his son, Sebastian, visited the same region, still looking for that northwest passage.
The Portuguese also, made early voyages with the same illusory object in view. In 1500, Gaspar Cortereal reached the American continent. In his second voyage his ship was lost, and his brother, who went in search of him, also perished.
In 1524, Francis I of France resolved to have a share in these new discoveries. A company of Breton sailors had already partly explored the coast. As early as 1506 the Gulf of St. Lawrence
WASHINGTON.
Direct Reproduction of the Original Painting, by Gilbert Stuart, in the
Museum of the Fine Arts, Boston. The Property of the Boston Athenæum.
was discovered. A squadron of four ships, under Giovanni Verrazano, an Italian navigator in the service of Francis, explored the coast from the Carolinas northward, probably visiting New York and Narragansett Bays. He also searched for the northwest passage, and on his return succeeded in convincing the King that no such passage existed.
In 1534 a second expedition was fitted out under command of Jacques Cartier, a fearless mariner, who had previously made fishing voyages to the Banks of Newfoundland. This expedition consisted of two vessels, and left St. Malo on the 20th of April. After a short stay at Newfoundland, Cartier sailed northward, passed through the Straits of Belleisle and entered the St. Lawrence.
Here, on the 24th of July they landed and erected a cross, surmounted by the lilies of France. The natives proved friendly, and two men were prevailed upon to accompany the returning voyagers. The following year a second expedition was sent out under Cartier, with instructions to explore carefully the St. Lawrence, to establish a settlement, and to traffic with the Indians for gold. Of this latter commodity they found none, but the river was explored as far as the spot where now stands Montreal. The natives seem to have had a very correct knowledge of their country, for they told Cartier that it would take three months to sail in their canoes up the course of the river and that it ran through several great lakes, the largest like a vast sea. Beyond the farthest lake was another river which ran in a southerly direction. This was the Mississippi. The Canadian winter had now set in and the explorers suffered terribly from the cold and disease. As soon as spring appeared they returned home. Like other adventurers of the age, they repaid the hospitality of the natives with the blackest ingratitude and treachery. They kidnapped the chief Donacona—whose village occupied the site of Quebec, and who had fed and lodged the explorers—and forced him, with eight warriors, to accompany them to France, where the unhappy savages died soon after their arrival.
The third expedition under Cartier in a fleet fitted out by De Roberval, a rich nobleman of France, was not so successful. The Indians had not forgiven the outrage perpetrated upon their chief, and the white men were received at Stradacona (Quebec) with every sign of hatred and enmity. Cartier, finding his position here so unpleasant, not to say dangerous, moved up the river to Cape Rouge, where he moored three of his vessels and sent the other two back to France for supplies. An attempt was made to found a colony, and the summer was spent in an unsuccessful search for gold. Both the colony and the search for gold were abandoned after another severe winter and Cartier and his men returned to France.
It was this same greed for gold which led the Spaniards to attempt the exploration of the southern part of the American continent. As early as 1512 Juan Ponce de Leon discovered a land which he called Florida, partly because he first saw it on Easter Sunday (Pascua florida), and partly because it seemed to his delighted gaze a veritable “land of flowers.” Ponce de Leon had another object beside gold hunting; he was an old man and he loathed his years. He had come hither lured by a wonderful tale of a fountain which gave eternal youth to whosoever bathed in its waters. To find this grand restorer of vigor and bloom, Ponce de Leon and his followers wandered through terrible forests and marshes, enduring every hardship and deprivation, running hourly risks of death. That such a dream could ever have been cherished by enlightened and educated people need not appear so strange if we consider what a succession of new and astonishing scenes had passed before the eyes of the old world in the short space of ten years. No wonder their imaginations were inflamed and their credulity limitless. In this new land, of which the preceding ages had been utterly ignorant, everything was different from that with which the old world was familiar. Anything seemed possible, after the impossible had happened. De Leon made two visits after his fountain; in the second one he was killed by the Indians.
In 1528 Pamphilo de Narvaez made an effort to take possession of Florida in the name of Charles V of Germany. He met with such hostility from the natives, however, that after months of wandering he reached the Gulf with a mere handful of men out of the six hundred with whom he had landed. Building five miserable boats, these crazy adventurers attempted to follow the line of the coast to the Mexican settlements. Four boats were lost in a storm; the survivors landed and sought to cross the continent to the Spanish colonies at Sonora. It seems incredible, but in this enterprise four of the men actually succeeded. Among them was Cabeca de Vaca, treasurer of the expedition. Their appearance in Europe nine years after their departure caused the greatest sensation, and the excitement created by their narrative was intense. The passion for adventure became stronger than ever among the Spaniards, and when the already celebrated Hernando de Soto, who had been with Pizarro in Peru, asked for and was granted permission to take possession of Florida in the name of Ferdinand of Spain, he had a multitude of volunteers to his standard.
De Soto was first appointed governor of Cuba that he might turn to account the resources of that wealthy island. His fleet of nine vessels and force of six hundred men, sailed from Havana on the 18th of May, 1539, and ten days later anchored in Tampa Bay. The first remarkable adventure that befel them was an encounter with one of the companions of Cabeca de Vaca, who had been held all this time captive among the Indians. He had acquired a thorough knowledge of their language, and his services as mediator and interpretor soon became invaluable.
Led by Ortiz—the captive—the explorers wandered through the unknown land until spring. Then a native offered to guide them to a distant country, governed by a woman, and rich in “yellow metal,” which the Spaniards understood to be gold, but which turned out to be only copper. The dominion of the Indian queen was reached at last, after much fighting and bloodshed. The old chronicles give a picturesque and rather pathetic account of the meeting between the poor cacica and the invaders. She came forth to welcome them, alighting from her litter and making gestures of pleasure and amity, taking from her neck a heavy string of pearls and presenting it to De Soto. He accepted the gift, and for a time kept up a pretense of friendship; but, having obtained all the information the queen had to give, he made her prisoner and robbed her and her people of all their valuables, even pillaging the graves of dead nobles for pearls. It is gratifying to know that the queen effected her escape from the guards, and that she regained a box of pearls on which De Soto set especial store.
The Spaniards now altered their course, and, taking a northwesterly direction, they found themselves, after a few months, at the foot of the Appalachian range of mountains, which, rather than cross, they turned their backs upon, and wandered into the lowlands of what is now Alabama, ignorant of the fact that these very mountains were rich in the gold they so ardently coveted.
The autumn of 1540 brought what remained of the party to a large village called Mavilla, the site of the modern city of Mobile, where a terrible battle took place. Mavilla was burned to ashes, and when the fight ended the victorious Spaniards found themselves in a desperate situation—at a distance from their ships, their provisions gone, and enemies on every side. The common soldiers, by this time, had had quite enough of exploration, and wished to return to the coast. But De Soto, who had received secret information that his fleet was even now anchored in the Bay of Pensacola, six days’ journey from Mavilla, determined to make one more effort to redeem his honor by a notable discovery of some sort. He forced his men to journey northward, and in December they reached a Chickasaw village, in what is now the State of Mississippi. By spring they had fought their way completely across the State, and in May they reached the banks of the mighty river from which the State takes its name. Not knowing that he had made his great discovery, De Soto went to work to build boats and barges with which to cross the river. Constantly harassed by the natives, the explorers continued their northward wanderings until they reached the region of the present State of Missouri. Proceeding westward, they encamped for the winter at the present location of Little Rock, Arkansas. But the spot turned out to be an unhealthy one; the white men began to succumb to disease; Juan Ortiz, the chief helper, died; scouts sent out to explore the neighborhood brought back darkest reports of impenetrable wildernesses, and of bands of hostiles creeping up from every side to attack them. Saddest of all, De Soto, broken with disease and long endurance, lay down to rise no more. Calling his little army around him, he asked their pardon for the sufferings he had brought upon them, and named Luis de Alvaredo as his successor. The following day the unhappy De Soto breathed his last, and was buried secretly outside the camp; but, fearing an immediate attack from the natives should the death of the hero be made known, and the newly-made grave exciting suspicion among the Indians in the neighborhood, Alvaredo had the corpse disinterred in the night, and, wrapped in clothes made heavy with sand, dropped into the Mississippi.
Alvaredo then led his people westward, hoping to reach the Pacific coast. But after long months of wandering, and dreading to be overtaken by winter on the prairies, they retraced their steps to the Mississippi, where they pitched camp and spent six months building boats in which to go down the river. A terrible voyage of seventeen days, between banks lined with Indians, who plied them pitilessly with poisoned arrows, brought them to the Gulf, and a further weary cruise along the coast of Louisiana and Texas landed them at the Spanish settlement of Panuco, in Mexico. This was in October, 1543; they had been wandering for nearly four years.
The English were rather tardy in following the lead of the Spanish, French, and Portuguese explorers, but, once started, they pursued their researches with great vigor. In 1562 one of their adventurers, Sir John Hawkins, engaged in the slave trade, and carried cargoes of negroes to the West Indies. In 1577, Sir Francis Drake accomplished the circumnavigation of the globe. Attempts were made at the same period to discover the northwestern passage, by Willoughby, Frobisher, Henry Hudson, and others. The only attempt to found a colony in the New World during this century was made by Sir Walter Raleigh; his step-brother, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, had obtained the first charter ever granted an Englishman for a colony, but his project failed, and he himself perished at sea.
A patent was granted Raleigh, constituting him lord proprietary, with almost unlimited powers, according to the Christian Protestant faith, of all land which he might discover between the thirty-third and fortieth degrees of north latitude. Under this patent Raleigh dispatched two vessels under the command of Philip Amidas and Arthur Barlow. They landed on the island of Wococken and took possession in the name of Queen Elizabeth. The country they called Virginia, and such glowing accounts did they send back to England that seven vessels under Sir Richard Grenville were sent out, bearing one hundred and fifty colonists. As soon as these landed, Sir Richard Grenville took the ships back to England, capturing a rich Spanish prize on the way. The colony fared very badly after a time, Lane, the governor, being utterly unfit for his office. The Indians wishing to get rid of their visitors, induced them to ascend the Roanoke River, on the upper banks of which, they declared, dwelt a nation skillful in refining gold, whose city was inclosed with a wall of pearls. After the gold rushed the colonists, but they found only famine and distress. The Indians, on their return, refused to give them any more provisions, and even ceased to cultivate corn, hoping to drive out the Englishmen altogether. In revenge, the white men, having invited the chief to a conference, fell upon him and slew him, with many of his people. This was the end of their peaceful relations with the Indians. The colony was on the verge of starvation when Sir Francis Drake, the slave-trading nobleman, appeared outside the harbor with a fleet of twenty-three ships. At the urgent prayer of the starving settlers, Sir Francis carried them back to England. Hardly had they gone before a ship laden with supplies, dispatched by Raleigh, arrived. Finding the colony vanished, the ship returned. Before it reached England, Sir Richard Grenville arrived at Roanoke with three ships. After searching in vain for the missing colony, he also returned, leaving fifteen men on the island to hold possession for the English. Still undiscouraged, Raleigh sent out a second colony, this time choosing agriculturists, and sending with them their wives and children. On reaching Roanoke they found the bones of the fifteen men Grenville had left, and the fort in ruins. Meanwhile the Spanish invasion was threatening England. Raleigh was one of the most active in devising schemes for resistance. It was almost a year before he was able to send supplies to his colony at Roanoke; this he did at last, but the captain, instead of proceeding straight on his mission, went in chase of two Spanish prizes, came to grief, and was obliged to return to England. By this time Raleigh’s means were almost exhausted, but he managed to send out the relief ships, but they arrived too late. The island was a desert and the only clue to the fate of the colony was the word “Croatian” on the bark of a tree. It has been conjectured that they escaped, through the kindness of the Indians to Croatian; perhaps they were received into some tribe and became a part of the wild men; the Indians themselves have such a tradition. Raleigh sent five different search parties after his little colony, but none of them ever had the least success.
In 1602 Bartholomew Gosnold reached the shores of Massachusetts, and, sailing southward, landed on a promontory which he called Cape Cod. He also discovered the islands of Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket. On the former they built a store-house and a fort, and prepared to settle, but when the ships got ready to sail, they lost their resolution and insisted upon returning to England.
CHAPTER II.
“GOOD OLD COLONY TIMES.”
THE history of the United States may be said to have begun with the formation in England of a company for the purpose of forming colonies in America. This was called the Virginia Company, and to it was given the right to hold all the land from Cape Fear to the St. Croix River. The Company had two divisions—the London Company, with control over the southern territory, and the Plymouth Company, controlling the northern. It was the London Company who founded the first colony. Three vessels, under Captain Christopher Newport, sailed from England in the year 1607, with instructions to land on Roanoke Island. A storm drove them into Chesapeake Bay, and so delighted were they with the beauty of its shores that they determined to settle there. Sailing up the James River, they found a convenient spot for landing, and on the 13th of May the colony of Jamestown was established. There were about a hundred men in the party, many of them gentlemen of more or less precarious fortune, whose object in leaving their native land was almost entirely selfish. They expected to find gold, and so great was their greed that they went directly to washing dust, instead of cultivating the ground. The summer that followed was a terrible one. The location proved unhealthy, and more than half the colony died of a pestilence. Only the friendly generosity of the Indians saved the rest from starvation. The situation was rendered more unendurable by quarrels and dissensions in the Governing Council, which consisted of seven men appointed before leaving England. In this Council had been Gosnold, the explorer, Captain Newport, and Captain John Smith. This latter personage was a man of marked individuality, one of those characters not uncommon in history, who are as cordially detested by half the world as they are warmly admired by the other half. At first prevented by his enemies from taking his place in the Council at all, arrested and kept under a cloud for months, the following autumn finds him in supreme and solitary control of the entire colony.
Things began to brighten a little at Jamestown. Supplies were plenty, and, under the careful management of Smith, promised to last all winter. Having nothing else to complain about, the dissenters now began to mutter against Smith for not having discovered the source of the Chickahominy, the theory being that the South Sea, or Pacific Ocean, was not far distant, and that some river running from the northwest would be sure to lead to it. Whether or not Smith had much hope of reaching the Pacific via the Chickahominy River is uncertain, but he did make an attempt to trace the stream to its head.
His adventures on that memorable voyage have been told in every history of the colonies and in every school geography since. How much is truth and how much imagination it is impossible to decide; it should be stated that the original story came from a person not so much celebrated for veracity as for other excellent qualities—that is to say, from Captain John Smith himself.
Nine white men accompanied him on the trip up the river. When at length the barge could advance no further, Captain Smith returned some miles to a bay, where he moored his bark out of danger, and, taking two men and two Indian guides, he proceeded in a canoe twenty miles higher up the river. The men in the barge had strict orders not to leave until their commander returned. As soon as he was fairly out of sight, the order was disobeyed; the men went on shore, and one of them was killed by Indians.
Smith, meantime, had neared the head of the river. The country was very wet and marshy, but there was no indication of the proximity of the Pacific Ocean. The canoe was tied up, and Smith took his gun and one Indian and went on shore after food for his party. But, as it turned out, the landing-place was ill-chosen. The two men in the canoe were set upon by Indians and killed, and Smith, after a desperate resistance, was captured. He asked for their chief, and was led before Opechancanough. Smith presented to him a mariner’s compass, which so entertained the savages that they forbore their first murderous intentions and contented themselves with leading him captive to the town of Orapakes, which was about twelve miles from what is now the city of Richmond. Here he was confined in one of the houses, and an enormous quantity of food set before him. It is not probable that his appetite was very good, under the circumstances. His captivity was not devoid of pleasant features, however; an Indian, who had received some kindness at the hands of the Jamestown colonists, showed his gratitude by presenting to Smith a warm fur garment. While the orgies and incantations were going on—supposedly with a view to divine the prisoner’s intentions concerning the Indians—Opitchapan, brother of Chief Opechancanough, who dwelt a little above, came down to see the great white man, and entertained him hospitably.
At last it was decided to take the prisoner to the chief place of council, and to let the exalted Powhatan pronounce his fate. Accordingly they journeyed to Werowocomoco, on the York River—then known as the Pamaunkee. Here they found Powhatan, reclining in rude state on a sort of a throne covered with mats, and further adorned by the presence of two dusky maidens, splendid with feathers and beads and red paint. The captive was received with solemn ceremony, a feast was spread, and then a long consultation took place. The result was a sentence of death.
Two large stones are brought and laid one upon the other before Powhatan; behold savage hands seize upon the unhappy Smith and lay his head upon the stones; the war-clubs are poised in air, the chief’s hand starts to give the fatal sign; at the foot of the throne, one gentle heart is throbbing wildly with mingled love and fear; poor little Pocahontas, while the stones were being brought, put in her plea for mercy, but it was not even noticed; she is the dearest thing in the world to that stern old chief, but even she has never yet dared dispute his authority. But when she sees that hand raised, her fear is swept away, everything is swept away but love; she utters one mad cry, and, flying from her place, throws herself down beside him, clasps his form in her arms and lays her head upon his. The fairest woman in the world saves the bravest man. Oh! most charming picture in history! Men pretend to believe that it is all a fabrication. What if it is? To leave it out of the history books takes all the color from the
story of those days. If it didn’t happen, it might have happened. Certainly something happened, for two days later Smith was permitted to return to Jamestown on the absurd little condition of sending back two great guns and a grindstone. This condition Smith faithfully fulfilled, to his credit, and in addition to the cannon and the grindstone he sent presents to Powhatan’s wives and children. Records are so stupid at times; they are careful in this case to mention the grindstone, but they give not the slightest hint of what Captain Smith sent Pocahontas. Smith’s conduct all through that affair is puzzling. By every canon of romance, he should have married the princess. That it was otherwise is the best proof of the truth of the story, for true stories always end inartistically.
When Smith returned to Jamestown, he found things going very badly, and the number of the colonists reduced to forty. He set to work to encourage them, and to make his task easier, a ship laden with stores and with additional settlers now arrived. The Indians were friendly, and great numbers of them appeared at Jamestown to trade. Pocahontas came, too, and brought all sorts of things to Captain Newport and to Smith, which she had undoubtedly wheedled out of her father, the great Powhatan.
When Captain Newport returned to England, he took with him twenty turkeys which Powhatan had given him in exchange for twenty swords. This bargain pleased the old chief so much that he tried to effect a similar one with Smith. Failing, and becoming infuriated, he ordered his people to go to Jamestown and take the weapons by force. The President of the colony, under pretense of orders from England not to offend the natives, would have allowed the robbery to take place, but Smith rose in wrath and drove the intruders from the settlement.
Another ship, the “Phœnix,” now arrived. The colony was increased to nearly two hundred souls. There were plenty of provisions and the sword difficulty, thanks to the mediation of Pocahontas, had been amicably settled, so that all hostilities were at an end for the time being. The year was 1608.
Smith continued his explorations, sailing around Chesapeake Bay and up to the head of the Potomac River. He traveled not less than three thousand miles that summer, and that his worth was beginning to be appreciated at Jamestown is evidenced by the fact that on his return he had the pleasure of accepting the presidency of the colony. This had been offered him before, but he had declined it.
Now he set about his duties in earnest. The men were put to work, some making glass, preparing tar and pitch, while Smith with thirty others went five miles below the fort to cut down trees and to saw planks. The Jamestown colony was always unfortunate in having too many adventurer-gentlemen in it. Smith had a hard time with them, but by his tact and good management he got more work out of them than any one else could have done.
Their life, diversified with some struggles with the Indians, a good deal of internal bickering and considerable ill-luck with crops, etc., continued for another year. In 1609 an addition to the colony of five hundred men and women, with stores and provisions, set sail from England. But these new settlers had no sooner landed than new troubles began. The leaders, although they brought no commission with them, insisted on assuming authority over the original colony, defying Smith, whom they feared and hated.
Anarchy reigned for a time. The ring-leaders, Ratcliffe, Archer, and others, were imprisoned. West, with one hundred and twenty men, formed an independent settlement at the falls of the James River, and another one hundred and twenty, under Martin, established themselves at Nansemond. But these leaders were unable to deal fairly with the Indians, and the new settlements were abandoned after much bloodshed. Smith did what he could to effect peace, but failing, gave up in disgust and returned to England.
After his departure, things went from bad to worse. Within six months vice and starvation had reduced the colony from five hundred to sixty persons, and these must also have perished had not relief come from England.
Shortly afterward Lord Delaware was sent out to be Governor of the colony. He brought with him supplies and a large number of emigrants. Following these came seven hundred more. The land, which had hitherto been held in common, was divided among the colonists, and an era of wise government and contented prosperity began. In 1613 Pocahontas married John Rolfe, and this event improved greatly the relations between the white people and the Indians. But three years after it occurred, Pocahontas and her husband went to Europe, where the gentle little woman died. She was deeply mourned by her husband and by her people, for she was not only good but she was beautiful and very clever. Powhatan did not long survive his daughter, and thus were the two best friends of the white men removed. The rapid increase of the colonists, and the spread of their settlements, began to alarm the Indians, and in 1622 a conspiracy was formed to destroy and wipe out the invasion of Europeans.
It is necessary to mention one or two events in the colony before this year. In 1615 the cultivation of tobacco was begun on a large scale. Other pursuits were neglected and corn was scarcely raised at all. The new article of commerce proved so profitable that it became a perfect mania. In 1619 the first legislative body ever organized in America met at Jamestown, where a colonial constitution was adopted. The next year (1620) a Dutch man-of-war sailed up the James and landed twenty negroes who were sold as slaves. The same year a cargo of young white women were sent over and sold as wives—a position supposed to be a little better than that of slaves. The price paid was one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco per wife.
The colonists were unprepared for the hostilities which followed the death of Powhatan. His dominion passed to his brother Opitchapan, a feeble old man feared by no one. But there was one man who soon began to incite the natives to war. This man was the captor of Smith, Opechancanough. He has been called by some the brother of Powhatan, but this opinion is erroneous. He came of one of the tribes of the southwest, probably Mexico, and rose to his position of leader only through his natural ability to govern. Inspired with a hatred of the white men, he visited in person all the tribes of the confederacy of Powhatan and roused them to murderous fury. A few people in the colony scented danger, but the majority were so secure in the belief of safety that it was impossible to induce them to take measures for their own protection. The settlements were now eighty in number and spread in separate plantations over a space of three or four hundred miles.
On Friday, the 22d day of March, 1622, the Indians came into the settlements as usual with game and fish and fruits, which they offered for sale in the market place. Suddenly a shrill signal cry rang out, and then began a hideous scene of blood and death. In one morning three hundred and forty-nine settlers were massacred. It is remarkable that one single white man should have escaped, but surprised and defenseless as they were, the settlers rallied and actually succeeded in putting their assailants to flight. The village of Jamestown was warned of its danger by a young Indian woman, preparations for defense were hurriedly made, but no assault occurred.
The wildest panic now seized the colonists. Distant plantations were abandoned, and in a short time, instead of eighty settlements, there were only six, and these were huddled closely around Jamestown. The war with the Indians kept up incessantly. Opechancanough pursued the white men with deadly hatred, and the white men never lost an opportunity of murdering an Indian.
In 1624 the London Company was dissolved, and Virginia was declared a royal government. The colony retained the right to a representative assembly and of trial by jury. All the succeeding colonies claimed these rights, so that it was in Virginia that the foundation of American independence was laid.
Indian hostilities continued—grew worse, in fact, as the whites increased in number and in power. There was but one end to such an unequal struggle. It came about the year 1643. Opechancanough was a very old man—he had lived a hundred years; he could no longer walk alone—his very eyelids had to be lifted by the fingers of an attendant; but within his withered frame the spirit of hatred and bitterness was as full of energy as ever. His power over the confederacy of Powhatan was as great as of old, and once again he roused the savages to an attempt at a general massacre.
Five hundred white men were butchered, but Sir William Berkeley, placing himself at the head of a large body of troops, marched against the Indians and not only utterly routed them, but captured their aged chief and took him back to Jamestown. The confederacy instantly dissolved, and the white men’s power over the land was established more firmly than ever.
The second permanent settlement in the United States—or what is now the United States—was made by the Dutch in 1614. A fort was built on the extremity of the island on which New York now stands; another was erected at the site of the city of Albany, and the country between was called New Netherlands. The next year a settlement of some importance was made at Albany, but for many years the fort on Manhattan Island was a mere trading-post.