Barefoot and touzle-headed, in the coarse russet and blue homespun of an
apprentice, a small boy sidled through the wood. Like a hunted hedgehog,
he was ready to run or fight. Where a bright brook slid into the
meadows, he stopped, and looked through new leaves at the infinite blue
of the sky. Words his grandfather used to read to him came back to his
mind.
"Let the inhabitants of the rock sing, let them shout from the top of
the mountain."
The Bible which old Joseph Bradford had left to his grandson had been
taken away, but no one could take away the memory of it. If he had
dared, Will would have shouted aloud then and there. For all his hunger
and weariness and dread of the future the strength of the land entered
into his young soul. He drank of the clear brook, and let it wash away
the soil of his pilgrimage. Then he curled himself in a hollow full of
dry leaves, and went to sleep.
When he woke, it was in the edge of the evening. Long shadows pointed
like lances among the trees. A horse was cropping the grass in a
clearing, and some one beyond the thicket was reading aloud. For an
instant he thought himself dreaming of the old cottage at
Austerfield--but the voice was young and lightsome.
"Where a man can live at all, there can he live nobly."
The reader stopped and laughed out. A lively snarling came from a burrow
not far away, where two badgers were quarrelling conscientiously.
"Just like folks ye be, a-hectorin' and a-fussin'. What's the great
question to settle now--predestination or infant baptism?--Why, where
under the canopy did you come from, you pint o' cider?"
"I be a-travelin'," Will said stoutly.
"Runaway 'prentice, I should guess. I was one myself at fifteen."
"I'm 'leven, goin' on twelve," said the boy, standing as straight as he
could.
"Any folks?"
"I lived with granddad until he died, four year back."
"And so you're wayfarin', be you? What can you do to get your bread?"
The urchin dug a bare toe into the sod. "I can work," he said
half-defiantly. "Granddad always said I should be put to school some
day, but my uncle won't have that. I can read."
"Latin?"
"No--English. Granddad weren't college-bred."
"Nor I--they gave me more lickings than Latin at the grammar school down
to Alvord, 'cause I would go bird's-nesting and fishing sooner than
study my _hic_, _haec_, _hoc_. And now I've built me a booth like a wild
man o' Virginia and come out here to get my Latin that I should ha'
mastered at thirteen. All the travel-books are in Latin, and you have to
know it to get on in foreign parts."
"Have you been in foreign parts?"
"Four year--France and Scotland and the Low Countries. But I got enough
o' seeing Christians kill one another, and says I to myself, John Smith,
you go see what they're about at home. And here I found our fen-sludgers
all by the ears over Bishops and Papists and Brownists and such like. In
Holland they let a man read's Bible in peace."
"Is that the Bible you got there?"
"Nay--Marcus Aurelius Antoninus--a mighty wise old chap, if he was an
Emperor. And I've got Niccolo Macchiavelli's seven books o' the Art o'
War. When I'm weary of one I take to t' other, and between times I ride
a tilt." He waved his hand toward a ring fastened on a tree, and a lance
and horse-furniture leaning against the trunk.
"Our folks be Separatists," the boy said.
"Well, and what of it?" laughed the young man. "As I was a-reading
here--a man is what his thoughts make him. Be he Catholic or Church
Protestant or Baptist, he's what he's o' mind to be, good or bad. Other
folk's say-so don't stop him--no more than them badgers' worryin' dams
the brook."
This was a new idea to Will. His hunger for books was so keen that it
had seemed to him that without them, he would be stupid as the swine.
John Smith seemed to understand it, for he added,
"You bide here with me awhile, lad. Maybe there's a way for you to get
learning, yet."
Will shared the leafy booth and simple fare of his new friend for a
fortnight, doing errands, rubbing down the black horse, Tamlane, and at
odd times learning his conjugations. When John Smith left his hermitage
and went to fight against the Turks in Transylvania, he placed a little
sum of money with a Puritan scholar at Scrooby to pay for the boy's
schooling for a year or two. The yeoman uncle had a family of his own to
provide for, and was glad to have Will off his hands.
Transylvania in 1600 was on the very frontier of Christendom. John Smith
needed all the philosophy he had learned from his favorite author when,
after many adventures, he was taken prisoner and sent to the
slave-market of Axopolis to be sold. Bogal, a Turkish pacha, bought the
young Englishman to send as a gift to his future wife, Charatza
Tragabigzanda, in Constantinople.
Chained by the neck in gangs of twenties the slaves entered the great
Moslem city. John Smith was left at the gate of a house exactly like all
the others in the narrow noisy street. The beauty of an Oriental palace
is inside the walls. Within the blank outer wall of stone and mud-brick,
arched roofs, painted and gilded within, were upheld by slender round
pillars of fine stone--marble, jasper, porphyry, onyx, red syenite,
highly polished and sometimes brought from old palaces and temples in
other lands. Intricate carving in marble or in fine hard wood adorned
the doorways and lattices, and the balconies with their high
lattice-work railings where the women could see into a room below
without being seen. In the courtyards fountains plashed in marble
basins, and from hidden gardens came the breath of innumerable roses. On
floors of fine mosaic were silken many-hued rugs, brought in caravans
from Bagdad, Moussoul or Ispahan, and the soft patter of bare feet,
morocco shoes and light sandals came from the endless vistas of open
arches. A silken rustling and once a gurgle of soft laughter might have
told the Englishman that he was watched, but he knew no more what it
meant than he understood the Arabic mottoes, interwoven with the
decoration of the blue-and-gold walls.
Charatza's curiosity was aroused at the sight of a slave so tall, ruddy
and handsome. She sent for him to come into an inner room where she and
her ladies sat, closely veiled, upon a cushioned divan. Bogal's letter
said that the slave was a rich Bohemian nobleman whom he had captured in
battle, and whose ransom would buy Charatza splendid jewels. But when
spoken to in Bohemian the captive looked perfectly blank. He did not
seem to understand one word.
Arabic and Turkish were no more successful. At last the young princess
asked a question in Italian and found herself understood. It did not
take long for her to find out that the story her lover had written had
not a word of truth in it. She was as indignant as a spirited girl would
naturally be.
In one way and another she made opportunities to talk with the
Englishman and to inquire of others about his career. She presently
discovered that he was the champion who had beheaded three Turkish
warriors, one after another, before the walls of the besieged city
Regall. She made up her mind that when she was old enough to control her
own fortune, which would be in the not very distant future, she would
set him free and marry him. Such things had been done in Constantinople,
and doubtless could be done again.
But meantime Charatza's mother, learning that her daughter had been
talking to a slave, was not at all pleased and threatened, since he was
no nobleman and would not be ransomed, to sell him in the market.
Charatza was used to having her way sooner or later, and managed to have
him sent instead to her brother, a pacha or provincial governor in
Tartary. She sent also a letter asking the pacha to be kind to the young
English slave and give him a chance of learning Turkish and the
principles of the Koran.
This was far from agreeable to a brother who had already heard of his
sister's liking for the penniless stranger,--especially as he found that
the Englishman had no intention of turning Moslem. The slave-master was
told to treat him with the utmost severity, which meant that his life
was made almost unbearable. A ring of iron, with a curved iron handle,
was locked around his neck, his only garment was a tunic of hair-cloth
belted with undressed hide, he was herded with other Christian slaves
and a hundred or more Turks and Moors who were condemned criminals, and,
as the last comer, had to take the kicks and cuffs of all the others.
The food was coarse and unclean, and only extreme hunger made it
possible to eat it.
John Smith was not the man to sit down hopelessly under misfortune, and
he talked with the other Christians whenever chance offered, about
possible plans of escape. None of them saw any hope of getting away,
even by joining their efforts. It may be that some of this talk was
overheard; at any rate Smith was sent after a while to thresh wheat by
himself in a barn two or three miles from the stone castle where the
governor lived. The pacha rode up while he was at work and began to
abuse him, taunting him with being a Christian outcast who had tried to
set himself above his betters by winning the favor of a Turkish lady.
The Englishman flew at him like a wildcat, dragged him off his horse and
broke his skull with the club which was used instead of a flail for
threshing. Then he dressed himself in the Turk's garments, hid the body
under a heap of grain, filled a bag with wheat for all his provision,
mounted the horse of his late master, and rode away northward. He knew
that Muscovy was in this general direction, and coming to a road marked
by a cross, rode that way for sixteen days, hiding whenever he heard any
sound of travelers for fear the iron slave-ring should betray him. At
last he came to a Russian garrison on the River Don, where he found good
friends. In 1604, after some other adventures, he came again to England.
All London was talking of the doings of King James, who in one short
year had managed to dissatisfy both Catholics and Protestants. Since the
voyages of Gosnold, Pring and Weymouth there was much interest in
Virginia. Ralegh was a prisoner in the Tower. There was talk of a
trading association to be called the London Company, and it was said
that this company planned a new plantation somewhere north of Roanoke.
Smith could see the great future which might await an English settlement
in that rich land. He decided to join the adventurers going out in the
fleet of Captain Christopher Newport. Before sailing, he went to
Lincolnshire to bid farewell to his own people, and in the shadow of the
Tower of Saint Botolph's he espied a tall lad whose look recalled
something.
"Why," he cried with a hearty clasp of the hand. "'t is thyself grown a
man, Will! And how goes the Latin?"
"I love it well," the youth answered shyly. "Master Brewster hath also
instructed me in the Greek. If--if I had known where to send it I would
have repaid the money you was so kind as to spare."
"Nay, think no more o't--or rather, hand it on to some other young
book-worm," laughed the bearded and bronzed captain. "And how be all
your folk?"
The lad's eyes rested wistfully upon the quaint old seaport streets.
"The Bishop rails upon our congregation," he said. "Holland is better
than a prison, and we shall go there soon."
Smith's practical mind saw the uselessness of trying to get any
Non-Conformist taken on by a royal colony in Virginia just then. "'Tis a
hard case," he said sympathetically, "but we may meet again some day.
There's room enough in the Americas, the Lord knows, for all the honest
men England can spare."
Thus they parted, and on April 26, 1607, the Virginia voyagers saw land
at the mouth of the Chesapeake.
The company was rather top-heavy. Out of the hundred who were enrolled,
fifty-two were gentlemen adventurers, each of whom thought himself as
good as the rest and even a little better. No sooner had the ship
dropped anchor than thirty of them went ashore to roam the forest,
laughing and shouting as if they had the country to themselves. The
appearance of five Indians sent them scurrying back to the ship with two
of their number wounded, for they had no weapons with them. That night
the sealed orders of the London Company were opened, and it was found
that the directors had appointed a council of seven to govern the colony
and choose a president for a year. The colonists were charged to search
for gold and pearls and for a passage to the East Indies. Nothing more
original in the way of a colonial enterprise had occurred to the
directors. Success in these undertakings meant immediate profits with
which the new Company could compete with Bristol, Antwerp, and the
Muscovy Company's rich fur trade.
In the list of names for the council appeared that of Captain John
Smith, which was somewhat embarrassing, since a scandalous tale had been
set going during the voyage, that he intended to lead a mutiny and make
himself governor of the colony. This was so far believed that he was
kept a prisoner through the last part of the voyage. The other
councilors, Newport, Gosnold, Wingfield, Ratcliffe, Martin and Kendall,
held their election without him and chose Wingfield president.
Next day the carpenters began work on the shallop, which had been
shipped in sections, and Wingfield ordered Smith inland with a party of
armed men, to explore. They saw no Indians, but found a fire where
oysters were still roasting, and made a good meal off them, though some
of the luscious shellfish were so large that they had to be cut in
pieces before they were eaten. Coasting along the bay they discovered a
river, which was explored when the shallop was launched. Upon this river
they saw an Indian canoe forty feet long, made of the trunk of a tree
hollowed out, Indian fashion, with hot stones and shell gouges. They
found also oysters in abundance and in some of them fresh-water pearls.
After spending seventeen days in examining the country, they chose for
their settlement a peninsula on the north side of the river called the
Powhatans by the Indians, from the tribe living on its banks. This site
was about forty miles from the sea, and here, on May 13, they moored
their ships to trees in six fathom of water and named the place
Jamestown, and the river the King's River.
Thus far the Indians had been friendly, and Wingfield would not have any
fortifications built, or any military drill, for fear of arousing their
anger. Captain Kendall, despite orders, constructed a crescent-shaped
line of fence of untrimmed boughs, but most of the weapons remained in
packing-cases on board ship. Wingfield, who regarded Smith as a rather
dangerously outspoken man to have about just then, sent him with Newport
and twenty others, to explore the river to its head. On the sixth day
they passed the chief town of the Powhatans. On May 24 they reached the
head of the river, set up a cross, and proclaimed in the wilderness the
sovereignty of King James Stuart.
The thrifty eye of the Lincolnshire yeoman observed many things with
satisfaction during this march. There might not be any gold mines, but
there was unlimited timber, and the meadows would make as good pasture
for cattle as any in England. In the forests were red deer and fallow
deer, bears, otters, beavers, and foxes, besides animals unknown in
Europe. One moonlight night, while examining deer tracks near a little
stream, Smith saw humped on a fallen log above it a furry beast about
the size of a badger, with black face and paws like a bear, and a bushy
tail with crosswise rings of brown and black. This queer animal was
eating something, and dipping the food into the water before each
mouthful. When Smith described it to the Indians he could make nothing
of the name they gave it, but wrote it down as best he could--Araughcoune.
Another new kind of creature was of the size of a rabbit, grayish white,
with black ears and a tail like a rat. It would hang by its tail from a
tree, until knocked off with a stick, and then curl up with shut eyes
and pretend to be dead. It was excellent eating when roasted with wild
yams,--rather like a very small suckling pig, the colonists later
discovered. For the most part, however, Smith was inclined to think
they would have to depend upon their provisions and the corn they could
buy from the Indians.
On returning to Jamestown they found that the Indians had been raiding
the settlement, the colonists at the time being all at work and taken
completely by surprise. Seventeen men had been wounded, and a boy
killed. After this, the men were drilled each day, the guns were
unpacked and a palisade was begun.
Newport was in a hurry to return to England, and Wingfield now suggested
that Smith, who was still supposed to be under arrest, should go with
him and save any further trouble. This did not suit Smith at all. He
demanded an open trial, got it, and was triumphantly cleared of all
charges.
Of the privation, dissensions and sickness which followed Newport's
departure, the bad water, rotten food, constant trouble with savages,
and the unreasonable demands of the directors of the London Company, all
historians have told. One story, which Smith was wont to tell with keen
relish, deals with the instructions of the Company that the Indian
chief, "King Powhatan," should be crowned with all due ceremony, just at
a time of year when every hand in the colony was needed for attending to
the crops. Smith and Newport had just come to a reasonable understanding
with that astute savage, by which he treated them with real respect; and
the attention paid him by his "brother James," as he proceeded to call
the King of England, rather turned his head. He liked the red cloak sent
him, but had no idea what a crown meant. The raccoon skin mantle which
he removed when robed in the royal crimson was sent to England and is
now in a museum at Oxford.
After some years of strenuous toil and adventure John Smith went back
to London. An explosion of powder, whether accidental or intentional was
never known, wounded him seriously just before he left Jamestown, and he
did not recover from it for some time.
"And what is in your mind to do next, Captain?" asked Master William
Simons the geographer when they had finished, between them, the new map
of Virginia. Smith's eyes twinkled as he snapped the cover on his
inkhorn.
"Why, 't is hard for an old rover like me to lie abed when there's man's
work to be done. You know, the London Company holds only the southern
division of the King's Patent for Virginia; the north's given to
Bristol, Exeter and Plymouth. And that's never been settled yet."
"There was a colony of Captain George Popham and Ralegh Gilbert went
out, five year ago," said Simons doubtfully. "They said they could not
endure the bitter climate."
"Sho," said Smith impatiently, one stubbed forefinger on the map, "'t is
in almost the same latitude as France. Maybe they chose the wrong place
for their plantation. Why, the French trade furs with the savages, all
up and down the Saint Laurence, and mind the cold no more than nothing
at all. The first thing we know, the Dutch will be out here finding a
road to the Indies."
Both men laughed. They had lost faith in that road to fortune.
"Anyhow Hudson didn't find it when they sent him to look for it the year
afore he died," said Simons, "or they'd be into it now. But what are you
scheming?"
"First make a voyage of exploration," said Smith. "I ha' talked with one
and another that told me they taken a draught of the coast, and I ha'
six or seven of the plots they drew, so different from one another and
out of proportion they do me as much good as so much waste paper--though
they cost me more," added the veteran grimly. "With a true map o' the
coast, we'd know whereabouts we were."
"No gold nor silver, I hear."
"Maybe not. But what commodity in England decays faster than wood? And
where will you find better forest than along that shore? Build shipyards
there, and our English folk would make a living off'n that and the
fisheries. I know how 't was in Boston--the Flemings would salt their
fish down right aboard the ships when the fleets came in. But men for
work like this must be men--not tyrants, nor slaves."
John Smith's eyes flashed, and his lips closed so tightly that his thick
mustaches and beard stuck straight out like a lion's. He had seen a
plenty of both slavery and tyranny in his life.
In fact there was a neck-and-neck race between the Plymouth Company and
the Dutch West India Company, for the control of the northern province.
Dutch fur traders were already on Manhattan Island living in makeshift
wooden huts, and Adrian Block was exploring Long Island Sound, when John
Smith went out to map the coast north of Cape Cod for Sir Ferdinando
Gorges of the Plymouth Company in 1614. The two little English ships
reached the part of the coast called by the Indians Monhegan in April of
that year. They had general instructions to meet the cost of the
expedition, if possible, by whaling, fishing and fur-trading. No true
whales were found, however, and by the time the ships reached the
fishing grounds the cod season was nearly past. Mullet and sturgeon were
plentiful in summer, and while the sailors fished, Smith took a few men
in a small boat and ranged the coast, trading for furs. Within a
distance of fifty or sixty miles they got in exchange for such trifles
as were prized by the Indians, more than a thousand beaver skins, a
hundred or more martens and as many otter-pelts. On a rocky island four
leagues from shore, in latitude 431/2, he made a garden in May which gave
them all salad vegetables through June and July. Not a man of the
twenty-five was ill even for a day. Cod, they learned, were abundant
from March to the middle of June, and again from September to November,
for cor-fish--salt fish or Poor John. The Indians said that the herring
were more than the hairs of the head. Sturgeon, mullet, salmon, halibut
and other fish were plentiful. Smith had a vision of comfortable
independent mariners settled on farms all along the coast, sending their
fish to market the year round, and sleeping every night at home. It
seemed to him that here, in a hardy thrifty province which gold-seekers
and gentlemen adventurers might scorn, he could contentedly end his
days.
There was a pleasant inlet on the coast of a bold headland, north of
Cape Cod, which he thought would be his choice for his plantation. This
headland he had named Cape Tragabigzanda. There were three small round
islands to be seen far to seaward, which he called the Three Turks'
Heads. One Sunday, "a faire sunshining day," he climbed a green height
above Anusquam, and sitting on a huge boulder surveyed the bright and
peaceful landscape and chose the site for his house. Good stone there
would be in abundance, and mighty timbers that had been growing for him
since the days of Noah. In this Province of New England a strong and
fearless race would found new towns with the old names--Boston,
Plymouth, Ipswich, Sandwich, Gloucester. So he dreamed until the sun
went down under a canopy of crimson and gold, while the boat rocked in
the little bay where he would have his wharf.
In 1619, when English Puritans began preparations for the founding of a
new colony, he offered his services, but the older men would have none
of him. He was a "Church of England Protestant" and one of the
unregenerate with whom they had no fellowship. They took his map as a
guide, and settled, not on Cape Tragabigzanda, which Prince Charles had
re-named Cape Anne, but in the bay which he had called Plymouth. He
spent some years in London writing an account of his adventures, and
died in 1631 at the age of fifty-two--Captain John Smith, Admiral of New
England.