1606, sent more than a hundred men to America. It was a strange company
for such an enterprise. There were four carpenters, one blacksmith, one
bricklayer, one mason, one tailor, one sailor, one drummer, two
surgeons, two “boys,” or men-servants, and only twelve laborers. But
there were forty-eight “gentlemen,” of whom some were ne’er-do-wells and
others downright criminals, who could not work because they did not know
how to do anything useful. Even before they reached Virginia, quarrels
broke out among members of the party and Captain John Smith was falsely
accused of conspiracy and condemned to be hanged. He escaped, however,
and afterward forgave the conspirators.
The king had sent out the colony with sealed orders, which were not to
be opened until they reached Virginia. When the orders were opened, John
Smith was found to be among the seven men appointed as council for the
colony. But the men highest in control were unfit to command such an
enterprise. They spent seventeen days searching for a good site for a
settlement. The place which they finally chose was a long distance from
the coast, was hard for a sailing vessel to reach, and lay in an
unhealthy place between the shallow river and a bad swamp. The river was
named the James and the settlement Jamestown, both in honor of the king.
As for Captain John Smith, the others of the party were jealous of him.
They thought he knew too much, because he saw how little they knew. Most
of the party expected to get rich quick, and they did not care how they
did it, so long as it was at the expense of some one else. So, instead
of fishing for oysters, planting gardens, and clearing farms, they went
hunting for gold and making trouble with the Indians. They did discover
something they thought was gold, but Know-it-all Smith told them the
yellow stuff was only “fool’s gold,” which is the common name for iron
pyrites. Instead of following Smith’s advice and working all together to
prepare for the future, they became so spiteful that they would have
imprisoned him if he had not been too shrewd for them.
The Indians grew more and more hostile. The condition of the settlers
was fast becoming hopeless. Smith himself wrote of their condition:
“What toil we had, with so small a power (twelve laborers out of
more than one hundred men) to guard our workmen a-days, watch all
night, resist our enemies, and effect our business--to re-lade the
ships, cut down trees and prepare the ground to plant our corn.”
The settlers’ provisions were disappearing faster than they expected.
One of them wrote at this time of the sad state of affairs: “Our drink
was water; our lodgings, castles in the air.” The foolish president of
the council was soon displaced. The man elected in his stead was said to
be “of weak judgment in dangers, and less industry in peace”; but he had
the sense to leave the management of affairs to John Smith.
That capable captain now took hold with a firm hand. He fought the
Indians till they gained a wholesome respect for him and the English.
Then he played on their curiosity and superstition so as to get them to
bring Indian corn, venison, and wild turkeys to feed the white men. He
set the idlers to work at chopping down trees and the like.
When he had things going right in Jamestown, the tireless captain went
out exploring the wilderness. Captured by a hostile tribe of Indians, he
showed them his compass and told them a story which made them afraid to
kill him. So they took him, as a great prize, to the Powhatan, or head
chief of all the tribes of that part of the country.
The Powhatan and his chiefs knew too well that this was the mighty chief
who had thus far kept the white men out of their clutches. They held a
solemn powwow and
[Illustration: THE MARRIAGE OF POCAHONTAS]
condemned the troublesome captain to death. They laid his head on a
stone and a chief was lifting his war-club to dash out the prisoner’s
brains, when Pocahontas, the Powhatan’s beautiful daughter, rushed out
and threw herself between the death-club and Smith’s head. She pleaded
so earnestly, threatening to kill herself if Smith was harmed, that her
father gave orders to stop the execution, and to keep the white man
prisoner. With the help of the Indian girl, he soon made his escape.
Pocahontas proved a true friend to the English. More than once she
warned Captain Smith of the deep-laid plans of the Virginia tribes to
murder all the white settlers at a stroke. She became a convert to
Christianity, was christened Rebecca, and was confirmed in the Church of
England. Then a young settler, John Rolfe, married her and took her to
England, where she was received in the homes of lords and ladies, and
entertained by the queen as Lady Rebecca and the Princess Pocahontas.
Some of the “First Families of Virginia” proudly prove that this
beautiful and devoted Indian girl was one of their ancestors.
Not long after his escape from the Indians, John Smith was seriously
injured by the explosion of some gunpowder, and was compelled to return
to England for treatment. His work in Virginia was done. But the
restless soul of the old Captain could not let him be content to remain
at ease in England. He made other voyages of exploration along the coast
to the north of the Dutch island of Manhattan. From his careful
observations he drew a good map of that northern country and gave it the
name New England. So besides starting the greatest southern colony of
North America, he prepared the way for the Pilgrims to settle at
Plymouth.
CHAMPLAIN, THE FATHER OF NEW FRANCE
In Samuel de Champlain’s earlier life he was both a soldier and a sailor
of France. He was a great adventurer, who came to visit the new country
in America claimed for France by Jacques Cartier about seventy-five
years before. He was a personal friend of Henry of Navarre, who became
Henry the Fourth, king of France.
Champlain was a great lover of king and country. He said to the high
officials at court: “Spain has her ‘New Spain,’ and England her ‘New
England’; why should not we have our ‘New France’ in America?” The king
and the rich nobles thought it was a good idea, and one leading man at
the French court sent Champlain to carry out his own project. The brave
explorer started a settlement on the coast near the wide mouth of the
St. Lawrence, but on account of the wars France was engaged in, this
wealthy Frenchman found that he could no longer spare money to carry on
the enterprise, and Champlain had to give up the settlement he had so
nicely started and go back to France.
But Samuel de Champlain was a plucky soul whom nothing could frighten or
discourage. He had a romantic nature, to which the wild life in America
appealed. It was not long before he was back in the New World, sailing
up the St. Lawrence. There he saw a high, steep cliff at a narrow point
in the wide river, and decided that it would be a good place to build a
fort and make a settlement.
He started both at once--placing the fort on the head of the cliff and
building several houses at its foot. Champlain, who was quite an artist,
made a drawing of this small group of houses and named the little
settlement Quebec. On account of its high cliff above a narrow place in
the river, Quebec is called “the Gibraltar of America.” Gibraltar is
the name of a high rock on the coast of Spain guarding the entrance to
the Mediterranean.
In this narrow settlement Champlain planted a garden with as many roses
and other flowers as he could. He had a kind heart and a pleasant face,
and soon became as great a friend to the Indians as William Penn in
Philadelphia. Champlain encouraged his French friends to treat the men
of the forest as their brothers. As he was a devout Catholic, he did
everything he could to make the savages Christians, sending good men to
live among them and teach the natives how to live right. He not only
tried to help pious men to convert the Indians, but he went himself to
trade and hunt with the neighboring tribes and make them his friends.
More than this, he sent young Frenchmen to live among the different
tribes and learn the language and the ways of the Indians. These hardy
young heroes were called “wood runners,” and became the first white
guides and scouts in the wilds of America.
It was necessary for Champlain to make several voyages home to Old
France. On one of these visits “the Father of New France,” now forty
years of age, married Hélène, the young daughter of a wealthy citizen of
Paris. But, instead of taking her to share his rough life in the wilds
of the St. Lawrence, he sent her back to school to fit herself better to
aid him in teaching the Indians when she was old enough to come with him
to the New World.
When he went back to Quebec he went farther up the St. Lawrence to an
island which Cartier had called Mount Royal, and started another little
settlement, which he named Montreal. Here he made everything as
beautiful as he could, planting roses and other flowers, as he had done
at Quebec. The island in the river opposite this new settlement he named
Sainte Hélène, for the child wife he had left behind in Old France. This
island, now known by the English name, St. Helen’s, is a park and
pleasure ground for the people of Montreal.
“The White Governor” found before long that the Indians around Quebec
were not satisfied with a friendship which showed itself in teaching
them to be Christians and in trading beads for the furs the savages had
gathered by shooting and trapping in the forests. It seems strange that
tall, stern red men should be so childish as to care much for beads, but
it must be remembered that the Indians used beads of special colors in
weaving bands and strings of wampum which they used for money. Their own
beads were very hard to make from shells; so they were as eager for
glass beads of certain colors as white men are for the smallest grains
of gold.
The Indians were less trouble to Champlain and his friends than the
English--and other Frenchmen, too--who tried to turn the Indians against
him and his settlers. Other ships than those of Champlain’s company
landed every now and then at points along the St. Lawrence to trade with
the Indians. These white men would try to make the savages unfriendly to
Champlain, so that they would trade only with the newcomers, somewhat as
a business house to-day tries to take customers away from other dealers.
The simple men of the forest could not understand these tricks of trade
of the wily white men. Champlain, in one of the stories of his
adventures, relates that the Indians came to tell him about some fur
traders from other parts of France.
“They tell us that they would come and fight for us against our
enemies if we liked. What do you think of it? Are they telling the
truth?”
“No, they are not,” said Governor Champlain earnestly. “I know well
enough what they want. They tell you this only to get your trade.”
“The white governor is right!” shouted the Indians. “Those men are
women; they only want to make war on our beavers!”
By this they meant that the other Frenchmen were willing to promise
anything in order to get all the beaver and other fur skins the Indians
might have to sell. As the Indian squaws were not allowed to go into
battle, the savages showed their contempt for white men by calling them
“women”!
Champlain knew that the Indians would not accept him as a real friend
unless he would fight for them against their enemies--the cruel and
powerful Iroquois, who lived south of the St. Lawrence. The tribes of
the Iroquois were the most daring and warlike of the red men and were
feared by all their neighbors.
The Indians looked upon “the White Governor” and his men as workers of
miracles with their “fire-sticks,” as they called the rude guns which
the French called arquebuses. In one of his accounts Champlain describes
the first of a number of battles he helped the Indians to fight against
the Iroquois. After describing how his red friends met the enemy at
night and agreed to fight next morning, he continued:
“Meanwhile the whole night was spent in dancing and singing on both
sides, with many insults and other taunts, such as how little
courage _we_ had, how great _their_ power against our arms, and
when day broke we would find this out to our ruin. Our Indians did
not fail in talking back, telling them they would witness the
effect of arms they had never seen before.
“After each side had sung and danced and threatened enough, day
broke. My [white] companions and I were always concealed for fear
the enemy would see us preparing our arms the best we could, being
separated, each in one of the canoes belonging to the St. Lawrence
savages.
“After being equipped with light armor, we took each an arquebus
and went ashore. I saw the enemy leave their barricade. They were
about two hundred men, of strong and robust appearance, who were
coming slowly toward us with a gravity and assurance which greatly
pleased me, led on by three chiefs. Ours were marching in similar
order, and told me that those who wore three tall feathers were the
chiefs, and that I must do all I could to kill them.
“The moment we landed, our Indians began calling me with a loud
voice, and making way, placed me marching at their head--about
twenty paces in advance--until I was within thirty paces of the
enemy. The moment they [the Iroquois] saw me, they halted, gazing
at me and I at them. When I saw them preparing to shoot at us I
raised my arquebus, and aiming directly at one of the three chiefs,
two of them fell to the ground by this shot, and one of their
companions received a wound of which he died afterwards. I had put
four balls in my arquebus. Our Indians, on witnessing a shot so
favorable for them, set up such tremendous shouts that thunder
could not have been heard, and yet there was no lack of arrows on
either side.
“The Iroquois were greatly astonished, seeing two men killed at
once, though they were protected by arrow-proof armor, woven of
cotton thread and wood, this frightened them very much. While I was
reloading one of my [white] men in the bush fired a shot which so
astonished them anew that they lost courage, took to flight, and
abandoned the field and their fort, hiding in the depths of the
forest where I followed them and killed some others. Our savages
also killed several of them, and took ten or twelve prisoners. The
rest carried off the wounded. Fifteen or sixteen of ours were
wounded by arrows; they were promptly cured.
“After gaining the victory, they amused themselves plundering
Indian corn and meal from the enemy, also the arms which the
Iroquois had thrown away in order to run faster. After feasting,
dancing and singing, we returned three hours later with the
prisoners.
“I named the place where this battle was fought _Lake Champlain._”
“The White Governor” went on to tell about the devilish delight his
friends, the St. Lawrence Indians, took in torturing their Iroquois
prisoners. The braves, and even the squaws, would try to think of
something to do that would make the dying Indians’ sufferings still more
terrible. If the victim cried out or uttered the least sound, the
torturing Indians would laugh and dance about for joy. Champlain begged
his friends to stop this fiendish sport, but they could not understand
why. The Iroquois would have tortured them just as wickedly if they had
won. So “the White Governor” shot several of the suffering victims to
put them out of their agonies. After that, when the St. Lawrence Indians
gained a victory, Champlain would demand as many prisoners as he could
for his share. These he would not allow to be tortured, and, in time,
would contrive to let them escape.
By being friends with the neighboring tribes in war, Champlain made
bitter enemies of the Iroquois who lived in New York, so that in the
later wars between France and England those powerful tribes fought with
the English against the French, and in the end helped to place New
France in the hands of the British.
Champlain’s sympathetic and romantic nature made him a welcome visitor,
whether in the wigwams of the savages or in the palaces of the kings and
noblemen of France. He did all he could to help the people of Old France
and New to understand one another. He sent a young Frenchman up into the
country some distance north of Montreal to live among the savages. After
this youth had spent the winter in the north, he came back to the St.
Lawrence with glowing stories about the finding of a “salt sea” much
farther north. He was taken to France and became the lion of the day
there, for explorers from all lands were still looking for a northwest
passage across America to “the South Sea” and China. Just about this
time Henry Hudson had discovered the Hudson River and was lost in Hudson
Bay in his search for this passage; but this was not yet known in
Europe.
So Champlain, with his strong desire to explore and to prove a great
benefit to mankind, arranged to command an expedition into the far
northern wilds and make his young friend’s boasted discovery of actual
use to Old and New France. With the young explorer and an Indian guide,
the Governor and a company of men reached the lake and island belonging
to the tribe with which the young Frenchman had stayed. In talking with
those Indians about the great discovery, Champlain spoke with pride of
his young friend’s energy and success. They laughed and told him he had
been fooled, for that young man had never gone farther north than the
island on which they were standing!
This was a bitter experience for the good “White Governor.”
The Indians, who had told him before that there was no salt sea anywhere
near that region, taunted Champlain with,
“Now who were your friends? Don’t you see that he wanted to cause your
death? Give him to us and we promise you he shall never lie again.”
Champlain knew too well that with the savages’ hatred of a liar and
their cruel modes of punishment they would have tortured that young
Frenchman to death. Of course, the kind-hearted governor could not
permit this. But he did make the fellow stand before all the Frenchmen
at Montreal and confess that he had been guilty of lying and committing
[Illustration: WHEN BRAVE AND COURTEOUS CHAMPLAIN SURRENDERED QUEBEC,
THE ENGLISH OBTAINED THEIR FIRST FOOTHOLD IN CANADA.]
a great fraud. After that, as Champlain himself expressed it, “We left
him to the mercy of God.”
At last, Sieur de Champlain brought his young wife to Canada. Her
brother, who had been a settler on the St. Lawrence for years, exclaimed
when he met her, “You are a brave girl to come here!” The Indians,
always glad to welcome the great white chief, were now doubly glad to
see his young “squaw”! They greatly admired “the little white witch,” as
they called her, and would have worshiped her if she had let them. She
wore a small mirror--the fashion in Paris then--as a sort of charm. When
she allowed the Indians to see their painted faces in this, they said,
“She carries each one of us in her heart!” She used her good influence
over her dusky admirers to persuade them to be baptized. Of a very
devout spirit, Madame de Champlain returned to France after a short stay
in the western wilds, and entered a convent in Paris.
Once more England and France were at war, and King Charles the First
looked with jealous eyes upon the fair islands and settlements of the
St. Lawrence. English warships appeared before Quebec, claimed
possession, and threatened to take that place. “The White Governor”
wrote back, with French courtesy, to the impudent enemy:
“We will await you from hour to hour and shall endeavor if possible
to dispute the claim which you have made over these places. Upon
which I remain, Sir, your affectionate servant,”
The English commander did not dare dispute the claim then, but he came
again with a powerful force and “the White Governor” was forced to yield
and go back to France. But at the end of the war, England returned
Canada to France, and the Father of New France came again to Quebec,
his capital, amid the rejoicings of all the people, both French and
Indians, and even of “our friends our enemies,” the English. Here he
lived like another French knight, “without fear and without reproach,”
until he received the call of the King of kings in the Far Country, on
Christmas Day, 1635.
MYLES STANDISH, THE BRAVE LITTLE CAPTAIN OF PLYMOUTH
Little is known of the life of Myles Standish before he sailed from
Holland among the hundred and two passengers of the _Mayflower_ on its
way across the stormy ocean to the wilderness of America. The brave men
and women who had been driven out of England, on account of their
religion, by foolish King James, had made their escape to Holland.
Although the Dutch who lived in that country were very kind to them, the
English people decided to go to America where they could live and
worship as they wished and teach their children their own language and
ways of living; for, though their king was silly and mean, they still
loved dear Old England.
The _Mayflower_ was a poor, clumsy, leaky craft about the size of a
coastwise schooner, which would not be allowed to risk a voyage across
the ocean to-day. The Pilgrims, as the _Mayflower_ passengers were
called, did not know just where to land. The part of America to which
they had chosen to go was called Virginia, but that was the name of the
country all along the eastern coast, from the South nearly to New York
harbor, which had been claimed by the Dutch only a few years before. The
Pilgrims had a vague idea of landing about halfway between New York and
Jamestown, which had been settled some years before by John Smith and a
company of men from England. But storm after storm drove the _Mayflower_
farther and farther northward, till the Pilgrims found themselves just
within the long, protecting arm of land called Cape Cod.
They were very tired of being huddled together and pitched about in the
little ship. Many of them were ill from the close quarters, as well as
from terrible seasickness. During the long voyage they had had nothing
but mouldy bread and salt pork to eat, for there were no canned meats,
vegetables, and fruits in the fall of 1620, when the Pilgrims made their
long voyage across the sea.
The first thing they did was to go ashore near the end of Cape Cod,
where the Pilgrim Mothers did their much-needed washing. The Cape was a
long, low, sandy arm of land extending far out to sea. The ship’s
carpenter worked to finish the shallop, or small sailboat, which he had
started to build during the voyage. It was intended for the purpose of
sailing in shallow water to find a good place to live, where there were
trees for shelter and springs of water and, if possible, a good, safe
harbor in which the _Mayflower_ and all coming ships might stay at
anchor.
The Pilgrims held a meeting in the cabin of the _Mayflower_ and signed a
paper which they called “The Compact,” by which they agreed to live and
be governed. They elected John Carver, the oldest man in the company,
governor. Although they are called “The Pilgrim Fathers,” they were
nearly all young or middle-aged men. Elder Brewster, the minister, was
about forty years old, and Myles Standish was thirty-six. William
Bradford, who wrote the story of the settlement in his diary, and John
Alden, the cooper, were still younger.