Morn had just broken; a southerly wind blew gently down the harbour, and
Captain Villegagnon gave the order to lift the heavy anchors from their
oozy beds. "A boat is coming from the shore and pulling rapidly towards
us," said Nigel to the captain. "The people on board her are making
signals. Shall we stop weighing the anchor?"
"Yes, without doubt," answered the commander, looking towards the boat.
"I thought that they had abandoned their design. We are still to have
the advantage of the count's assistance and company."
Nigel looked eagerly towards the approaching boat. Besides the rowers,
there were several passengers, two of whom he saw were females, and at
length, as they approached, he recognised the Count de Tourville. His
heart began to beat more violently than it was wont to do. He felt
almost sure that the lady by the count's side was his daughter
Constance. All doubt in a few minutes was set at rest, when the count,
leading his daughter, came up the broad ladder which had been lowered to
allow them to ascend. Constance gave him a smile of recognition as he
bowed low, as did the other officers standing round, to welcome her and
her father on board.
The squadron was now quickly under weigh, and gliding rapidly down the
river. The weather looked fine, and all hoped for a prosperous voyage.
Many who had narrowly escaped with their lives from the Romanists began
to breathe more freely as the ships, under all sail, stood down the
channel. Yet there were sad hearts on board, for they were leaving
their beloved France a prey to civil strife, and their fellow
religionists to the horrors of persecution, so that for the time they
forgot their high hopes of founding another France in the New World.
As Nigel paced the deck in the performance of his duty, he was often
able to stop and speak to the count and his daughter, and to render her
those attentions which a lady so frequently requires on board ship.
Often they stood together watching the distant shore or passing vessels,
or the porpoises as they gambolled in the waves. Insensibly they became
more and more drawn together. Constance told him of the difficulty she
had experienced in escaping from the court. Had not her father himself,
at a great risk, gone to Paris, she would have been unable to accomplish
her object. Fortunately for her, a relative residing in the capital
having fallen ill, had sent an earnest request to see her. She had been
allowed to go, and had the same night left Paris with her father in
disguise, travelling night and day in time to reach Havre just as the
ship was on the point of sailing.
"We may hope now, however, to get far away from the follies of courts
and the trickeries of politics to found a new home where, with none but
true Protestants around us, we may enjoy the exercise of our religion
undisturbed," she said, looking up at her companion with a smile.
"I trust that it may be so," said Nigel.
"What! have you any doubts on the subject?" she asked.
"I would not willingly throw a dark shade across the prospect you
contemplate," he answered, "but we should be prepared for
disappointment, and I believe few on board have thought sufficiently of
the difficulties and dangers we shall have to encounter."
Nigel had expressed his thoughts more plainly than he had intended, and
he regretted immediately afterwards having said so much. The
conversation he had overheard at the inn frequently recurred to him, and
considerably damped his ardour. To whom could he venture to communicate
the knowledge he had obtained of the commander's character?
Who would, indeed, believe the young foreigner thus bringing so serious
an accusation against the officer selected by Coligny himself, and of
considerable renown as a naval chief? If he were not accused of
malicious motives, the meeting would be looked upon as having only taken
place in his dreams, for he should have to confess that he remained
perfectly still during the time, with his eyes closed, as the captain
and priest entered and quitted the room. He resolved, therefore, simply
to keep a watch on Villegagnon, and to endeavour, if possible, to
counteract his schemes.
Sometimes he thought of speaking to Count de Tourville, for he had, at
all events, full confidence in his honour and discretion; but even he,
knowing how much the admiral esteemed Villegagnon, might disbelieve him.
He was compelled, therefore, to keep the knowledge he had obtained shut
up in his own bosom. His chief satisfaction arose from the thought that
Constance de Tourville was on board, and that it would be his joy and
pride to defend her from all danger.
The weather, which had hitherto been fine, gave signs of changing. The
wind shifted more to the west, and dark clouds came rolling up. The
vessels, instead of gliding smoothly on, were now tossed about. The
storm increased. The sails were reduced to the smallest proportions,
but yet the stout ships could with difficulty battle with the waves.
Under other circumstances, the emigrants would have loudly petitioned to
put back; but as it was, they were afraid, should they again set foot in
France, of being seized by their persecutors; nevertheless, as the storm
increased, the terror of the emigrants, unaccustomed to the sea, became
greater and greater. Loud cries of alarm arose; some mourned their
folly in having left their native shores to perish in the ocean. Nigel
and the other officers did their utmost to calm their fears, and assured
them that should the ships be in real danger they would return to the
port.
Constance was among the few ladies who exhibited no undue alarm, and
expressed their confidence in the skill of the officers. But even they
at length acknowledged that they should be thankful could they find
themselves again safe in port. The Count de Tourville especially was
unwilling to return; but for his daughter's sake, however, he at length
consented to ask the captain to do what he considered best for the
safety of the ships.
"They will probably, if we continue at sea, become so battered, that we
shall hardly reach our destination," was the answer.
The signal thereon was hoisted from the commander's ship, and the
squadron stood back for France. On making the land, they found that
they were to the eastward of the port from which they started, and at
length they entered that of Dieppe. Here several of the artificers, and
even some of the men of higher rank, resolved to abandon the expedition,
rather than again risk the dangers of the sea. Their places, however,
were supplied by others collected by the captain, who had gone on shore
for the purpose. So many of these men were received on board each of
the ships, that they became overcrowded; but the captain silenced all
complaints by asserting that, if they would consent to suffer a little
present inconvenience, they would have a greater number to defend
themselves against any enemies they might meet with.
Once more the squadron sailed, and succeeded in getting clear of the
Channel. They had not, however, been long at sea before Nigel began to
suspect the character of the new-comers, of which his own ship carried
the greater number. They herded together, and showed little respect to
the services which the chaplain was wont to hold on board for the
spiritual benefit of the colonists. They were even seen to mock while
he preached, till complaints, being made to the captain, he ordered them
to behave themselves.
Day after day the ships sailed on, keeping close together, the wind
being fair and moderate. Sometimes it fell a calm, when the officers
and gentlemen Calvinists of the different ships visited one another, and
discussed their plans for the future. The chief delight, however, of
most on board was to hold religious services, which they could now do
without fear of interruption; and hymns of praise arose from amid the
desert ocean, their voices, when the ships were close to each other,
uniting together in harmony.
Often had Constance expressed her feelings at the thought that they
might in future thus worship God. Before, however, they reached their
destination, they encountered several violent gales, during which,
whenever his duty would allow him, Nigel made his way to the side of
Constance to afford her comfort and support.
"Do not be afraid," he said; "our ships are strong, and our commander
experienced. I have been in a worse found vessel in a more violent
gale, and we reached port in safety."
"But the waves look so terrible, threatening every moment to come down
and overwhelm us," said Constance, who was seated on deck, gazing at the
tumultuous ocean.
"Remember, God tells us that it is He who rules the waves; and should it
be His will, they cannot hurt us," answered Nigel.
"Yes, yes," said Constance; "I was wrong to express fear. Happy are we
who possess the Bible, of which the followers of the tyrant Pope and his
pretended priests are deprived."
"Think how many thousands of our countrymen would thankfully go through
far greater dangers than we are enduring to reach a country where they
may enjoy freedom from persecution," observed Nigel.
The young couple, however, talked on many other subjects; and when the
storm ceased, and favourable breezes wafted them over the ocean, their
spirits rose, and they spoke of the happy future in store for them.
Nigel, however, was not altogether free from anxiety. He could not
forget the conversation he had overheard between the captain and priest,
though sometimes he almost fancied that it must have been a dream,
Villegagnon was so courteous and polite to all his passengers, and
expressed sentiments so in accordance with theirs.
At length "Land! land!" was shouted from the mast-head. The goal of
their hopes was near, and the ships, getting close together, glided with
a fair breeze towards the magnificent Bay of Nitherohy. Lofty and
fantastic mountains, then unnamed by Europeans, rose out of the blue
waters before them. On the left, appeared the conical-shaped height,
since known as the Sugar Loaf. Further on, on the same side, the Three
Brothers reared their heads to the skies, and still more to the south
was seen the Corcovada and Gavia, the green mountains of the Three
Brothers strongly contrasting with the latter-named peaks, while the
distant ranges of the Blue Mountains rose in the interior. On the right
was seen another range of varied-shaped heights, extending far away to
the north. Passing beneath the lofty Sugar Loaf, the flotilla sailed
through the entrance, when the magnificent land-locked expanse opened
out before them, surrounded on all sides by hills and lofty mountains;
while lovely little verdant and palm-clad islands appeared dotting the
dark bosom of the water. Words, indeed, fail to describe the beautiful
and varied scenery. The anchors were dropped close to one of the first
isles they reached. On this spot Villegagnon told the eager crowd who
surrounded him that he had determined to form the first settlement of
the new colony. Here, at the entrance of the harbour, and surrounded by
water, they might defy the attacks of enemies from without, or the
Portuguese or natives who might venture to dispute their possession of
the country. From this they might extend to others on either side, and
then form a settlement on the shore, thus advancing till they had
brought under subjection the whole of the surrounding country.
The settlers expressed their satisfaction at the captain's plan, as they
gazed at the richly coloured woods which covered the sides of the
surrounding hills, at the purple blooming quaresma, the snake-like
cacti, and the gorgeous flowering parasites hanging down even from the
jagged and precipitous sides of the Sugar Loaf, and the rich verdure
starting forth from every nook and crevice of the fantastically shaped
rocks. Scarcely had the anchor been dropped, than the sun set behind
the distant mountains, and, as darkness rapidly followed, they remained
on board during the night.
Next morning, Constance and her father came on deck, where they found
the young lieutenant attending to his duties. Again they gazed with
renewed pleasure at the wild and the sublime outline of the surrounding
mountains with their varied combinations, while the richness and beauty
of colouring thrown over and around the whole, by the purple and rose
colours and ethereal blue of the sky, imparted to the scene a beauty
which no fancy sketch of fairyland could surpass. As they turned their
eyes towards the nearest shore of the main land, they saw the beach and
fringing rocks covered by a multitude of natives, waving green boughs as
a sign of welcome; while, on the heights above, they had kindled
numerous bonfires, to show their satisfaction at the arrival of the
French, whom they believed had come to protect them from their enemies,
the Portuguese. Preparations were being made on board the ships to land
the officers and artisans, with materials for building the proposed
fort. Villegagnon, in his barge of state, proceeded towards the shore
to open negotiations with the native chiefs. He had requested the Count
de Tourville to accompany him, and Constance begged that she might also
go. As it was a mission of peace, no danger was apprehended; and it was
thought that a lady being seen in the boat would give further assurance
to the natives of the pacific intentions of their visit. Nigel, being
one of the tallest and best-looking of the officers, was selected to
steer the barge. Four other boats followed at a short distance. Their
crews were fully armed, but were ordered to keep their weapons out of
sight, and only to advance should the Indians show any sign of
hostility.
As the barge neared the shore, a tall and dignified chief, his dress of
the richest skins, and ornamented with gaily-coloured feathers, with a
circle of plumes on his head, holding an unstrung bow of great strength
in his hand, was seen standing on the beach to receive the new-comers.
By his side was a youth, strongly resembling him in features, bearing
his shield and quiver, and also handsomely dressed, while other chiefs
were drawn up in a semi-circle a short distance behind him, with the
rest of his people collected on either side. He advanced a few paces
with dignified steps, and, stretching forth his hand to offer a friendly
grasp to the captain as he landed, announced himself as Tuscarora, chief
of the Tamoyos. According to Indian custom, he made a long harangue,
welcoming the strangers to his country, and assuring them of his
friendship.
"You come at a fortunate moment, when your aid may render us essential
service in assisting us to defend ourselves against the assaults of a
tribe of white men, who, for some years past, have attempted to
establish themselves on our shores. They call us idolaters, and pretend
to be of a religion which hates idolaters; but they themselves have
numerous figures of men and women, before which they bow down and
worship, and they fail not to shoot or cruelly ill-treat those of our
people who fall into their hands; we, therefore, do not trust to their
religion or promises."
The chief concluded by assuring the French that they were welcome to
take possession of the island off which their ships lay, or of any other
they might select in the bay. Villegagnon replied that he and his
people came in the character of true friends to the Indians, and his
great object was to obtain their friendship and support, and that their
religion taught them to consider all worshippers of figures and pictures
and any visible object as idolaters; their desire being to serve the
great Spirit who watched over the Indians as well as over themselves,
and that by their acts they would show that they were worthy of the
confidence their new friends were evidently disposed to place in them.
He expressed a hope, also, that by an exchange of commodities, and by
mutual support, they would learn to regard each other as brothers.
During this address the Indians preserved the most perfect silence,
though the eyes of the young chief, who stood by his father's side,
wandered towards the boat in which the rest of the visitors still
retained their seats. An attendant, now advancing, lighted the calumet
of peace, which Tuscarora presented to the captain, who, after drawing a
few whiffs, returned it to the chief, who performed the same ceremony.
The rest of the party now landing, the pipe was passed round among them.
Constance, who stood by her father's side, regarded the scene with much
interest. She could not avoid remarking the glances of admiration which
the young chief cast at her, and was compelled more than once to turn
round and speak to Nigel, who remained close to her. He himself
observed the looks of the young chief, which created an undefined
feeling in his breast, though his pride forbade him in any way to
exhibit it.
"These Indians are of a far more martial and gallant bearing than I had
supposed; but still they are savages, and we should be wise if we are on
our guard against them," he observed to Constance.
This was said aside, while Villegagnon was replying to the address
delivered by the Tamoyo chief, who then introduced the handsome youth
standing by his side as his son Tecumah, "who will ever, as he regards
my injunctions, be a friend and ally of the French," he added.
The young man in a few words expressed his desire to act according to
his father's wishes, winding up, as he pointed to the sky, "Should
Tecumah fail to fulfil his promise, may the great Spirit punish him as
he will deserve."
Thus far the interview had passed off in a most satisfactory manner.
The chief expressed his desire to visit his new allies, but Villegagnon
thought it prudent to decline the honour till the fort was erected, and
the colonists were in a position to defend themselves, and at the same
time to make such a show of their strength as might overawe the Indians,
in whom they were not inclined to place more than a very limited amount
of confidence. The Portuguese were at this time settled in a town which
they called Saint Vincente, about fifty miles to the south, the first
colony founded by them under Martin Alfonso de Souza; and as there were
many brave adventurers among them, Villegagnon thought it probable that
as soon as they heard of his arrival, they would send an expedition
against him.
The meeting with the chiefs having been brought to a conclusion, the
boats returned to the ships, on board which every one was now engaged in
landing stores for the construction of the proposed fort. As numerous
trees grew on the island, they were cut down, and formed an abundance of
material for the purpose. The artisans, who knew the importance of
speed, laboured assiduously, and the work made rapid progress. The
chief fort was built on the eastern side of the island, to resist the
attack of a hostile fleet; and in the course of a few days the guns were
mounted, and the colonists considered themselves fully prepared for
defence. Houses were also commenced, and those weary of their long
confinement on board ship hoped soon to take up their residence on
shore. The natives brought over in their canoes an abundant supply of
provisions, and, delighted with the beauty of the climate, the settlers
felt thankful that their steps had been directed to so happy a spot, and
looked forward with confidence to the time when they might see a
handsome city rise on the shores of the bay. Now, too, they could all
meet together to read God's Word, and to listen to the preaching of
their minister without dread of interruption.
The chief of the Tamoyos, with his son Tecumah, attended by a number of
the principal men of the tribe, arrived in a fleet of canoes to pay
their promised visit to the white men. Villegagnon received them at the
head of his seamen, and all the settlers drawn up under arms. The
Indians were evidently much struck by the martial appearance of their
new allies, and almost as much so by the progress which had been made in
the settlement, as the fort, with its guns, and the houses, were already
erected. It was a Sabbath morning, and at the usual hour a bell
summoned the settlers to worship. Tuscarora seemed to fancy that some
magical ceremony was going forward, and was afraid to enter; but
Tecumah, less superstitious than his father, and prompted by curiosity,
begged leave to attend, accompanied by several other young men. Though
they were unable to comprehend a word, their countenances exhibited the
most perfect seriousness and apparent interest in what was going
forward. The count, who had observed Tecumah, whose eyes, indeed, had
seldom been turned away from the spot where he and his daughter sat,
sent for the interpreter to inquire of the young chief what opinion he
had formed.
"It is clear to me that you worship a great unknown Spirit, and that you
sing to Him songs of praise, while your teachers exhort you to love and
obey Him, and He is, I am sure, pleased with such worship. I remarked
how it differs from that of the Portuguese, who make idols of painted
wood, and bow before them as if such things could hear, or understand,
or give help to the foolish men who put faith in such nonsense."
"And is such the opinion you have formed without having the principles
of our faith explained to you?" asked the count, astonished at the
intelligence displayed by the young chief.
"I have said what I conceive to be the truth," answered Tecumah. "I
would like to know more of your faith, since it enables you to be as
wise and powerful as I see you are. Some time since, during an interval
of peace, I visited the settlement of the Portuguese. There I saw
bearded men bowing down, some before a cross with a figure nailed on it,
others before a woman with a child in her arms; others, again, were
adoring an infant in a cradle; and others, men and women, in long robes,
with books or staffs in their hands. Some were worshipping even
pictures, and I thought that all these things were the gods of the
Portuguese. When they told me that the woman with the child in her arms
was the Holy Virgin, and that the child was also a god, I could stop to
hear no more, feeling sure that the great Spirit to whom the Indian
looks up as God would be displeased with such blasphemy."
"Undoubtedly He is," said the count; "but had you inquired further, you
would have been told that the figure on the cross and the child in the
woman's arms and the one in the cradle represented the same person, the
Saviour of mankind, who is now in heaven, at the right hand of God."
"Then, how can He be in heaven and on earth at the same time?" asked the
Indian. "And if He is in heaven, surely men of sense should lift up
their hearts to Him there, and not bow before figures which can have no
resemblance to him; for I observed that even the infants differed from
each other. And who, tell me, does the figures of the woman represent?"
"She was one especially honoured among women, but who the Saviour
expressly showed He did not desire should be worshipped," answered the
count. "She was chosen to be the earthly mother of the Son of God, who
so loved the world, that He desired to become man, that He might be
punished instead of all men; for all, being by nature sinful, deserve
punishment, and God, who is all just and all merciful, decreed that all
who believe that Jesus, His Son, was punished for our sins, should have
those sins washed away, and be received into favour again by Him. Thus,
Jesus came into the world as an infant, grew up to manhood, and, after
setting an example to mankind by the obedient, pure, holy life He led,
He allowed Himself to be put to the most cruel of deaths on the cross,
such as the vilest of malefactors were alone considered deserving of.
To prove that He was God, by His own will and power He rose again and
ascended into heaven, there to be the Advocate and Mediator of those He
had redeemed. Through Him alone the prayers of those who believe in Him
can be offered and be received acceptably by God."
The young chief listened attentively to what the count said, "This is
very wonderful, very wonderful," he observed, after being for some time
lost in meditation. "I would wish to hear more about the matter; yet it
strikes me as strange that God should allow His name to be profaned, and
these senseless images to be worshipped instead of Himself."
"You are right, my friend," said the count. "God is a Spirit, and must
be worshipped in spirit and in truth. He is also long-suffering and
kind, and therefore He does not punish men as they deserve, that they
may have an opportunity of turning from their sins and being reconciled
to Him."
The count gladly took the opportunity of explaining further the truths
of the Christian faith to the young chief, who seemed to drink in
eagerly every word he heard. It was the first of many visits he paid,
and often was his canoe to be seen, as the shades of evening drew on,
skimming across the tranquil waters of the harbour towards the mainland.
The Indians received such entertainment on their first visit as the
French could afford; and while it was yet daylight they returned in
their canoes to the shore.
One evening the count and his daughter were sitting in their house with
several guests, among whom Nigel was one. They had met to read God's
Word and to sing the hymns of Marot, which the French Protestants loved
so well. The weather, hitherto fine, had, before sunset, given signs of
changing. Dark clouds were seen gathering eastward, and already a damp
and chilly wind blew up the harbour's mouth, while the sea rolled in,
sending its billows with an angry roar against the foundations of the
new fort. As the tempest increased, a gun fired from each of the ships
summoned their respective officers and men on board, and Nigel had
unwillingly to hasten away from the house of his friend. It was not
without difficulty that the boats reached the ships. The topmasts and
topgallant masts were sent down on deck, and fresh anchors were got out.
The settlers, as they saw the masts of the ships through the gloom,
rolling from side to side, and watched the furious waves rushing in from
the sea, began to tremble for their safety. They had, however, to think
of themselves. The wind rapidly increased, the tall trees still
remaining on the island bent before it, and the waves washed over the
walls of the fort with relentless fury, threatening every moment to
overwhelm them. Villegagnon, who had remained on shore, fearing that
the guns might be lost, ordered them to be dragged out of the fort to a
place of safety. It was a task of no slight danger, for already the
woodwork trembled at each assault of the billows, and scarcely were the
guns removed than, crash succeeding crash, large fragments of the fort,
the construction of which had cost them so many days of labour, were
rent away, and either carried off by the retiring seas, or thrown high
up on the shore.
Constance de Tourville anxiously watched the progress of the storm. She
had accompanied her father and several of their friends to watch the
ships which lay in the harbour exposed to its fury. They could see the
foaming waves dashing against them, and breaking high over their bows.
Soon one was seen to be moving, when a single sail was set, and away she
sped into the darkness up the harbour. The others dragged their
anchors, or were torn from them, and were likewise compelled to seek for
safety in some sheltered spot. With good pilots on board, this might
easily have been done, but no one had a knowledge of the upper parts of
the harbour, and it was impossible to say in what direction they might
seek for safety.
That night was one of deep anxiety to all the settlers. The furious
waves, surging round the little island, swept over the lower parts, and
threatened at times to overwhelm it. Many of the trees, deprived of the
support of their neighbours, which had been cut down, bent before the
gale. Branches of some were torn away, others were broken off, and some
uprooted from the ground. Several of the newly built houses were
unroofed, and others were thrown down altogether by the wind. That of
the count stood firm, and he and his daughter gladly offered shelter to
as many of their friends as it could contain.
Constance, who had had a sleepless night, waiting till dawn broke,
sallied forth to look for the ships.
Not one of them was in sight. In vain she made inquiries of those who
had come, like herself, to look for them. No boats remained on shore;
indeed, with the waters of the harbour tossing about as furiously as
they were, even the largest could not have made her way amidst them.
The Indians, from whom alone they could obtain any information, dared
not venture across, and thus they must remain in ignorance of what had
become of the ships till, the tempest being over, those which had
escaped destruction should return.
"Vain is the help of man. In God let us put our trust. He may think
fit to preserve them; if not, we must say with confidence, `His will be
done,'" said the minister Laporte, addressing those assembled on the
beach.