In the last days of the year 1606, this ill-assorted company sailed

out of the Thames under conditions calculated to create dissensions

from the outset. King James, one of the most feeble monarchs who ever

occupied the English throne, had reserved to himself the right to

select the Council by which the colony should be governed, allowing to

that body the privilege of electing its President. But for some reason,

which it is impossible to surmise, the choice of the monarch was kept

secret and names of the Council enclosed in a box which was to be

opened only when the party reached its destination. Thus they started

upon the voyage without a commander or any recognized authority among

them, and each man of prominence, feeling satisfied that the King could

not have overlooked his superior claims to a place in the Council,

assumed the tone and bearing of an accepted leader whilst resenting

similar action on the part of others.

The need of acknowledged authority was felt from the outset. Newport,

Gosnold, and Ratcliffe, were, for the nonce, merely sailing masters

and had as much as they could well do to fulfill their duties in

that capacity. The expedition emerged from the Thames to encounter

contrary winds and stormy weather, so that it was forced to beat about

off the coast of England for weeks without making any progress. The

emigrants began to quarrel, and among the principal men of the party

there broke out a spirit of jealousy which was never allayed. This was

directed chiefly against Captain Smith. His companions were forced

to admit to themselves that this self-possessed and confident young

man was their superior in all those qualities that would be of most

account in the strange land for which they were destined, and they

had sufficient discernment to realize that no matter who might become

the nominal President of the colony, John Smith would be its master

spirit and actual leader. This was made manifest in these first few

weeks of trying delay. Did one of the ship-captains need assistance?

John Smith was a practical navigator and could both handle a vessel and

read the charts. In the dispositions for defence in case of attack, he

had to be relied upon as the best gunner and leader of fighting men

among them. When the voyagers became troublesome none but John Smith

could effectually quiet them. A few words in his calm firm tones would

quickly quell a disturbance. Some of these men had served under him and

had learned to respect his character. The others instinctively felt

that he was a man of sense and strength--one of those rare creatures

who rise to every emergency and lift their subordinates with them.

Men of broad and generous minds would have rejoiced to think that

they had among them one who was capable of steering them through all

their difficulties and whose experience would help them to avoid many

a pitfall and disaster. There were a few among the gentlemen, such as

George Percy, Parson Hunt and Scrivener, who took this sensible view of

the situation. On the other hand, Wingfield, Kendall, Ratcliffe, Archer

and several more, conscious of their own inferiority, became possessed

by an insane jealousy of our hero. This grew with the progress of the

voyage and constant discussion of their silly suspicions, until at

length they had fully persuaded themselves that Captain John Smith

was a dark conspirator who entertained designs against themselves and

contemplated treason against his King and country. They believed,

or professed to believe, that he had distributed creatures of his

own throughout the three vessels with the intention of seizing the

expedition and proclaiming himself king of the new country as soon

as they should arrive at it. With this excuse they made him a close

prisoner when the vessels were in mid-Atlantic.

When the party charged with this disgraceful office approached him

on the deck of the _Susan Constant_, Smith handed to them his sword

without a word and went below smiling grimly. He had long since

fathomed the weakness and the incompetence of these self-constituted

leaders. He knew that the time would come when his services would be

indispensable to them and he was content to abide it in patience. They

should have realized that, if their suspicions were just, he had but

to raise his voice and the vessels would be instantly in mutiny. But

they had not sufficient intelligence to perceive that if John Smith

was the dangerous character they assumed him to be their best course

was to propitiate him rather than to arouse his enmity. Instead of

being impressed by the self-confident manner in which he yielded to

confinement in the hold they gained courage from the incident and

actually thought that they might go to any extreme without resistance

on his part. So, when the vessels made land at the West Indies, these

masterful gentry erected a gallows for the purpose of hanging our hero,

or, perhaps, of frightening him. Now we know that they could not have

undertaken a more difficult task than that of attempting to strike fear

into the heart of John Smith, and as to actual hanging, whilst he had

a considerable sense of humor, it did not carry him so far as taking

part in a performance of that sort. When they brought him on deck and

solemnly informed him that the gallows awaited him, he laughed in their

faces and told them that it was a shame to waste good timber, for he

had not the remotest thought of using the contrivance. In fact, he

took the matter with such careless assurance that they wisely concluded

to abandon the project and sailing away, left their useless gallows

standing.

Steering for that portion of the mainland where the former ill-fated

colonies had been planted, the vessels were soon out of their reckoning

and beat about for several days without sight of land. They had been

already four months upon a voyage that should have occupied no more

than two and had made serious inroads into the stock of provisions

which was calculated to furnish the store of the settlers. They began

to grow fearful and discontented. Many wished to put about and sail

homeward, and even Ratcliffe, the captain of the _Discovery_, favored

such a course. Whilst they were debating the proposition, a violent

storm arose and luckily drove them to their destination. On the

twenty-sixth day of April, 1607, they entered the Bay of Chesapeake.

Eager to see the new land of promise, a party of the colonists went

ashore that day. They wandered through forest and glade, cheered by the

genial warmth of the southern clime and delighted with the beautiful

scenery and luxuriant vegetation. But before they returned to the ships

they were reminded that this natural paradise was in possession of a

savage people who could hardly be expected to respect King James’s gift

of their land to strangers. As the exploring party made their way back

to the shore they fell into an ambush--the first of many which they

were destined to experience. They had not seen a human being since

landing, and the shower of arrows that proclaimed the presence of the

Indians came as a complete surprise. Neither redman nor paleface was

quite prepared for intimate acquaintance at this time, and the sound of

the muskets sent the former scurrying to the hills whilst the latter

hurried to the shelter of the ships, carrying two men who had been

severely wounded.

Thus the Jamestown colonists came to America. How little they were

qualified for the work before them we have already seen. As we

progress with our story we shall see how often they brought misfortune

upon themselves and how the wisdom and energy of one man saved the

undertaking from utter failure.

XIV.

POWHATAN AND HIS PEOPLE

The President and Council are established and a settlement made at

Jamestown--Newport and Smith go on an exploring expedition--They

meet Powhatan, the great Werowance of the country--They are feasted

and fêted by the old Chief--A quick return to Jamestown and a

timely arrival--The Indians attack the settlers and take them

unawares--Gallant stand made by the gentlemen adventurers--The

appearance of Newport and his men prevents a massacre--A fort and

stockade are hurriedly erected--Smith is tried on a charge of treason

and triumphantly acquitted--Captain Newport returns to England with the

two larger ships.

It was, indeed, a fair land to which the white men had journeyed from

over the seas. Smith says of it: “Heaven and earth never agreed better

to frame a place for man’s habitation. Here are mountains, hills,

plains, rivers, and brooks, all running most pleasantly into a fair

bay, compassed, but for the mouth, with fruitful and delightsome land.”

The country was covered, for the most part, with virgin forest. Here

and there a small clearing afforded a site for a cluster of wigwams

around which lay fields of maize or other cereals. The birds and

animals that we prize most highly as table delicacies abounded in the

wilds, and the waters swarmed with fish.

A very small proportion of the land was occupied. The Indian villages

were few and miles apart. The country round about the Jamestown

settlement was in the possession of the Algonquin tribe, divided into

many bands, generally numbering not more than a few hundred souls,

each band under its own chief and all owning allegiance to a king or

werowance named Powhatan. There was constant intercourse between the

villages, and their men joined together for purposes of war, or the

chase. Rough forest trails formed the only roads between the different

centres, whilst blazed trees marked by-paths that led to springs,

favorite trapping grounds, or other localities of occasional resort.

The royal orders permitted the opening of the box of instructions as

soon as the colonists should have reached Virginia, and they lost

no time in satisfying their anxiety to learn the membership of the

Council. It appeared that the King had selected for that distinction

and responsibility, Edward Wingfield, Bartholomew Gosnold, Christopher

Newport, John Ratcliffe, George Kendall and John Smith. The last named

was still in irons and his fellow-councilmen were, with the possible

exception of Newport, unfriendly to him. It was decided that he should

not be admitted to the body, and the remaining members proceeded to

elect Wingfield, Smith’s arch-enemy, to the position of President.

For the next two weeks and more, the colonists remained upon the ships.

Meanwhile they explored the surrounding country for a favorable site

on which to settle. The Indians with whom they came in contact during

this time treated them with the utmost kindness, freely furnishing food

and tobacco, which latter few of the settlers had ever smoked, although

Raleigh had introduced the leaf into England some years earlier.

Everything was so strange to the adventurers, many of whom were absent

from their native land for the first time, that they forgot for a while

their discontent and jealousies in the interest and wonder excited by

new sights and scenes.

We can imagine, for instance, the mixed sensations of the strangers

when a band of Rappahonacks marched towards them, headed by their chief

playing upon a reed flute. They were all fantastically trimmed, we will

say, for their only dress was a coat of paint. The chief, as befitted

his rank, was the most grotesque figure of all, but the effect was

equally hideous and awesome and the Englishmen were divided between

merriment and fear. On one side of his head the chief wore a crown of

deer’s hair dyed red and interwoven with his own raven locks; on the

other side, which was shaven, he wore a large plate of copper, whilst

two long feathers stood up from the centre of his crown. His body

was painted crimson and his face blue. Around his neck was a chain of

beads, and strings of pearls hung from his ears which were pierced to

hold bird’s claws set in gold. He and his followers each carried a bow

and arrows and a tomahawk with stone head.

At length it was decided to settle upon a little peninsula jutting into

the river. There was a great deal of disagreement about this site.

Smith favored it, mainly because its comparative isolation made it

easier to defend than a location further inland, but he was allowed no

voice in the selection. It was, however, an unfortunate choice, for

the ground was low and marshy and no doubt a great deal of the later

mortality was due to the unhealthy situation of the infant settlement

of Jamestown. Here, however, the colonists landed on the thirteenth

day of May and set up the tents in which they lived for some time

thereafter. There is too much to be done to justify the absence of an

available strong arm and Smith, although virtually a prisoner still,

is allowed to join in the general labor and this he does cheerfully

without any show of resentment on account of his past treatment.

The President gave evidence of his incapacity from the very outset.

Relying implicitly upon the friendly attitude of the Indians he refused

to allow any defences to be considered, and even went so far as to

decline to unpack the arms which had been brought from England,

declaring that to do so would be a display of distrust which the

savages might resent. The latter, who were permitted to go in and out

of the camp with their weapons, were no doubt for a time divided in

mind as to whether the white men were superhuman beings invulnerable to

arrows or only a species of foolish and confiding fellow-creatures such

as they had never known. Wingfield had most of his men busy felling

trees and making clapboards with which to freight the vessels on their

return, for it must be understood that these colonists were practically

employees of the company that had been at the expense of sending them

out and which expected to make a profit on the investment. It was

necessary therefore to secure cargoes for shipment to England, but the

position should have been fortified and houses erected before all else.

Newport was anxious to have more extensive information of the country

to report to his employers who entertained the belief--absurd as it

seems to us--that by penetrating one or two hundred miles farther

westward the settlers would come upon the Pacific and open a short

route to India. Newport therefore organized an expedition to explore

the river. He took twenty men and was glad to include Smith in the

party. There was no opposition on the part of the Council to the

arrangement. Indeed, it was entirely to their liking. None of them was

over keen to penetrate the unknown with its possible dangers and each

was reluctant to leave the settlement for the further reason that he

distrusted his fellow-members of the Council and was jealous of them.

As to Smith, they had made up their minds to send him back to England

a prisoner, to be tried on charges of treason, conspiracy, and almost

anything else their inventive minds could conceive.

So Captain Newport and his party proceeded slowly up the river in their

shallop, greeted kindly by the Indians in the various villages along

the banks and feasted by them. The travellers in their turn bestowed

upon their entertainers presents of beads, nails, bottles, and other

articles, trifling in themselves but almost priceless to the savages

who had never seen anything of the kind. At length the party arrived

at a village named Powhatan. It was located very near the present

situation of Richmond, and perhaps exactly where the old home of the

Mayo family--still called “Powhatan”--stands. This village was governed

by a son of the great Werowance. The capital of the latter was at

Werowocomico, near the mouth of the York River, but he happened to be

at Powhatan at the time of Newport’s arrival. I say that he happened to

be there, but it is much more likely that he had been informed of the

expedition and had gone overland to his son’s village with the express

intention of meeting the strangers, about whom he must have been keenly

curious.

Powhatan was the chief of all the country within a radius of

sixty miles of Jamestown, and having a population of about eight

thousand, which included two thousand or more warriors. Although over

seventy years of age, he was vigorous in mind and body. His tall,

well-proportioned frame was as straight as an arrow. His long gray hair

flowed loose over his shoulders and his stern and wrinkled countenance

expressed dignity and pride. The English learned to know him for a keen

and subtle schemer, to whom the common phrase, “simple savage,” would

be altogether misapplied. He was sufficiently sagacious to realize from

the first that in the white men he had a superior race to deal with and

he made up his mind that the most effective weapon that he could use

against them would be treachery.

On this occasion, he dissembled the feelings of anger and fear that

he must have felt against the intruders and received them with every

sign of amity. To his people, who began to murmur at their presence and

displayed an inclination to do them harm, he declared:

“They can do us no injury. They desire no more than a little land

and will pay us richly for it. It is my pleasure that you treat them

kindly.”

In the meanwhile, his keen penetrating glance was taking in every

detail of his visitors’ appearance, scrutinizing their weapons and

dress, and closely examining their faces as they spoke, for the

settlers had picked up a little of the language.

When the voyagers, after being feasted and fêted at the village of

Powhatan, continued their journey up the river, the “Emperor,” as the

early writers call him, furnished them with a guide, whose chief duty

doubtless was to act as spy and report their movements to him. Newport

proceeded up the river until it became too shallow to admit of further

progress. He then turned and commenced the descent. He had not gone

many days’ journey when he began to notice a change in the attitude of

the Indians which prompted him to hasten on to the settlement with all

speed. It was well that he did so for the settlers were in a critical

situation.

We have seen that Wingfield altogether neglected to place the colonists

in a position to defend themselves from attack. During the absence

of the exploring expedition he had so far departed from his foolish

attitude as to permit Captain Kendall to erect a paltry barricade of

branches across the neck of the little peninsula, but this was the

only measure of safety he could be induced to take. The Indians were

permitted to come and go as freely as ever and the arms were left in

the packing cases. Of course it was only a matter of time when the

Indians would take advantage of such a constantly tempting opportunity

to attack the newcomers.

One day, without the slightest warning, four hundred savages rushed

upon the settlement with their blood-curdling war-whoop. The colonists

were utterly unprepared and most of them unarmed. Seventeen fell at

the first assault. Fortunately the gentlemen habitually wore swords,

these being part of the every-day dress of the time, and many of them

had pistols in their belts. They quickly threw themselves between the

unarmed settlers and the Indians and checked the latter with the fire

of their pistols. Wingfield, who though a fool was no coward, headed

his people and narrowly escaped death, an arrow cleaving his beard.

Four other members of the Council were among the wounded, so that only

one of them escaped untouched.

The gallant stand made by the gentlemen adventurers only checked the

Indians for a moment, and there is no doubt that every man of the

defenders must have been slain had not the ships created a diversion

by opening fire with their big guns. Even this assistance effected but

temporary relief, for the Indians would have renewed the attack at

nightfall, with complete success in all probability, but the appearance

of Newport at this juncture with his twenty picked and fully armed

men put a different complexion on affairs. The reinforcement sallied

against the attacking savages and drove them to retreat.

It is hardly necessary to state that all hands were now engaged with

feverish zeal in erecting a fort and stockade. Some demi-culverins were

carried ashore from the ships and mounted. The arms were uncased and

distributed and certain men were daily drilled in military exercises,

whilst a constant guard was maintained throughout the day and night.

From this time the intercourse between the whites and Indians was

marked on both sides by caution and suspicion.

When the defences had been completed, Captain Newport made preparations

for an immediate departure and then the Council informed Smith that he

was to be returned to England a prisoner for trial. Fortunately for

the future of the colony, our hero rebelled against such an unjust

proceeding, saying, with reason, that since all persons cognizant of

the facts were on the spot, it was on the spot that he should be tried,

if anywhere. His contention was so just, and the sentiment in his favor

so strong, that the Council was obliged to accede to his demand. He

protested against a moment’s delay, declaring that, if found guilty by

a jury of his peers, he would willingly return to England in chains

with Captain Newport and take the consequences.

The trial resulted in a triumphant acquittal. There was not one iota of

real evidence adduced against the prisoner. Wingfield and others had

nothing but their bare suspicions to bring forward. It did transpire,

however, in the course of the proceedings that the President had not

only been moved by malice but that he had endeavored to induce certain

persons to give false evidence against his enemy. On the strength

of these revelations, the jury not only acquitted Captain Smith but

sentenced the President to pay him two hundred pounds in damages, which

sum, or its equivalent, for it was paid in goods, our hero promptly

turned into the common fund.

Smith accepted his acquittal with the same calm indifference that had

characterized his behavior since his arrest and showed a readiness

to forget past differences and encourage harmony among the leaders.

Mr. Hunt also strove to produce peace and goodwill in the settlement

but the efforts were useless. When Newport left them in June, the

colony was divided into two factions, the supporters of Wingfield and

those of Smith, who was now of course free of his seat at the Council

board. And so it remained to the end of our story--jealousy, meanness,

incompetence and even treachery, hazarding the lives and the fortunes

of the little band of pioneers who should have been knit together by

common interests and common dangers.

XV.

TREASON AND TREACHERY

The colonists experience hard times and a touch of starvation--Fever

seizes the settlement and one-half the settlers die--The entire charge

of affairs devolves upon Captain Smith--President Wingfield is deposed

and Ratcliffe appointed in his place--Smith leads an expedition in

search of corn--Returns to find trouble at Jamestown--The blacksmith

to be hanged for treason--At the foot of the gallows he divulges a

Spanish plot--Captain Kendall, a Councilman, is involved--His guilt is

established--He seizes the pinnace and attempts to sail away--Smith

trains a cannon upon the boat and forces the traitor to land--He is

hanged.

Just before the departure of Captain Newport with the two larger

ships--the pinnace, _Discovery_, was left for the use of the

colonists--Mr. Hunt had administered the communion to the company in

the hope that the joint participation in the holy sacrament might

create a bond of amity between them. On that occasion Captain Smith

had modestly addressed the assembled settlers, urging them to forget

past disagreement, as he was ready to do, and address themselves

energetically to the important business of the community.

“You that of your own accord have hazarded your lives and estates in

this adventure, having your country’s profit and renown at heart,” he

said with earnestness, “banish from among you cowardice, covetousness,

jealousies, and idleness. These be enemies to the raising your honors

and fortunes and put in danger your very lives, for if dissension

prevail among us, surely we shall become too weak to withstand the

Indians. For myself, I ever intend my actions shall be upright and

regulated by justice. It hath been and ever shall be my care to give

every man his due.”

The plain, frank speech moved his hearers, but in the evil times that

quickly fell upon them good counsel was forgotten and strife and

ill-nature resumed their sway.

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