DISCOVERIES CONTINUED.
Florida had remained unoccupied, and almost disregarded, for several
years, when Pamphilo de Narvaez obtained permission from the emperor
Charles V. to effect its conquest; accordingly he landed on the coast in
April, 1528, with three hundred men, and, erecting a standard, took
possession for Spain. Fired by the successes of Cortes, they advanced up
the country, hoping to find a second wealthy empire; but swamps and
forests met them everywhere, and hosts of ambushed savages attacked
them. Still intimations of a country northward abounding in gold, which
they continued to receive from captives whom they had taken, and now
employed as guides, lured them on. But they found nothing save a village
of wigwams; though the guides still persisted that still farther north
lay a region full of gold. Unwilling to adventure further to the north,
they directed their course again southward, and reached the sea after a
journey of probably 800 miles, their numbers being then greatly
diminished. They constructed five boats, but of so frail a description
that only desperate men would have ventured their lives in them; and
Narvaez and most of his companions perished. Four of the survivors
reached Mexico in the course of seven years, after a series of wonderful
adventures and hardships, having travelled through Louisiana, Texas, and
Northern Mexico, passing on from one tribe of Indians to another, and
frequently as slaves. A marvellous story of wild adventure was theirs;
and, like an earlier Robinson-Crusoe history, calculated to allure
others into the same path.
The most remarkable of the followers of these men, and the believers of
their story, was Ferdinand de Soto, a Spanish nobleman, and courtier of
Charles V., by whom he was appointed governor of Cuba. De Soto had been
a favourite companion of Pizarro in the conquest of Peru, and had
distinguished himself in the storming of Cusco. Believing all the
wonders which were related of the golden regions of Florida, he resolved
to fit out an expedition at his own cost, and conquer these lands which
were believed to be more beautiful and richer than those of Mexico and
Peru. His own enthusiasm excited that of others; hundreds of young men
of birth and fortune enlisted in this enterprise. Property of all kinds,
vineyards, houses, valuables, were all sold to purchase arms, horses,
and equipments for this undertaking. From the multitudes who offered
themselves for this expedition of conquest and discovery, its leader
selected six hundred young men, all adventurous and ambitious as
himself.
The landing of this proud and gallant company on the shores of the new
world was a splendid spectacle. Their banners floated in the soft
breezes of Florida; the golden sun of Florida reflected itself in their
armour; and thus they galloped onward, “very gallant,” says the old
chronicle, “silk upon silk,” along the sea-shore of that region which
they believed to be full of gold and great cities, and the destined
conquerors of which they esteemed themselves to be.
Ferdinand de Soto, who, like Cortes, wished to remove all possibility of
a retreat, either for himself or his companions, sent back all his
vessels to Cuba, where he had left his young wife as governor during his
absence. It was in the month of May, 1539, when they set out; taking
with them weapons of all kinds, work-tools and an iron-forge, as well as
chains and bloodhounds for the subjection of their captives. They also
took with them a singular accompaniment for so gallant an army, a drove
of three hundred swine, which were intended to stock the country when
the commander should have selected his seat of government; and these
swine were driven with the expedition through nearly the whole of its
route.
They advanced onward through a wilderness day after day, and week after
week, amid continual skirmishes with the natives, and ever, as they
went, mass was performed by priests with all the pomp of Catholic
ceremonial; and cruelties were practised on their captives, whilst they
amused themselves by gaming. Thus they wandered onward through
uncultivated regions for upwards of five months, and then established
themselves in winter-quarters. In twelve months they had advanced to the
ocean—to the very spot whence Narvaez had embarked; they had found
plenty of maize, but no gold, and no cities but only small Indian
villages. Next spring they broke up their winter camp, and set out for a
remote country, of which they had heard, lying to the north-east,
abounding in gold and silver, and the ruler of which was a woman.
They now advanced to the north-east, made a long and arduous journey,
and arrived indeed at the territory of the queen, of whose wealth they
had conceived such extravagant hopes; but the gold proved to be copper,
and the silver thin plates of mica. Still de Soto advancing with a
perseverance worthy of a better cause, came to the spring-heads of vast
rivers, and thus reached the Highlands of Georgia, where he fell in with
the peaceable and gentle Cherokee Indians. This was the second year of
his wanderings. Some of de Soto’s companions wished to settle down here
in the midst of a beautiful region, and enjoy the riches of an abundant
soil. But no,—de Soto would not listen to such a scheme: he had promised
a second Peru and Mexico to Spain, and he would not desist from his
wanderings till they were found. He was a resolute man, of few words,
and his followers yielded themselves to his commands.
Again he heard of gold still further north, and despatched two horsemen,
with Indian guides, to visit the country; and once more they returned
with copper; gold there was none. They wandered still further, advancing
into Alabama, where was a large Indian town, Mavilla, afterwards Mobile.
The Indians rose in arms; a battle ensued; the Spanish cavalry were
victors: it was the bloodiest battle ever known in Indian warfare. The
Indians fought for nine hours, and several thousands were slaughtered;
the town was burned to ashes, and numbers of Indians perished in the
flames. The Spaniards also lost many of their number, together with
horses and the whole of their baggage. Their situation was terrible in
the extreme; food they had none, nor medicines for the wounded—all were
lost. Fortunately for them, however, the spirit of the Indians was so
completely broken, that they could no longer molest them. Spanish ships,
from Cuba, now awaited them with supplies in Pensacola Bay, near
Mavilla. But, fearing that his disheartened soldiers might leave him,
and as he had no tidings of gold and great glory to send home, and was
too proud to send any other, he turned away from the sea-coast, and
again advanced inland.
Winter overtook them in the northern parts of Mississippi, with severe
frost and snow, and they established themselves in an Indian village,
which the inhabitants had deserted at their approach, and in the fields
of which the maize still remained uncut. The Indians returned in the
depth of winter and in the dead of night, and set fire to the village.
All that had been saved from the fires of Mavilla was now destroyed;
they lost all their beloved swine, many of their horses, and all their
clothes. Their sufferings were intense. De Soto ordered the chains to be
taken from the captives, and new weapons to be forged. Clothed in skins
and mats of ivy-leaves, he still advanced further west in search of the
land of gold. For seven days they wandered on through wildernesses of
forest and morass, and reached the Indian settlements in the vicinity of
the Mississippi. De Soto was the first European who beheld that mighty
river. He saw it then as the familiar trader on its banks beholds it
now, rolling its immense mass of waters through a rich alluvial soil,
more than a mile broad, and carrying trees and timber down its turbid
flood.
In May, 1541, the Spaniards, having constructed boats, crossed the
river, and proceeded westward into Arkansas. The natives, regarding them
with reverence, and believing them to be the children of the sun,
brought their blind to them, that they might receive sight. “Pray only
to God who dwells in heaven,” replied de Soto, “and He will give you
what you need.”
De Soto proceeded onward in the direction of the north-west, and reached
the mountains of the White River, two hundred miles from the
Mississippi; but there were neither gold nor precious stones in these
mountains. They took up their third winter-quarters among peaceful
Indians, who pursued agriculture rather than war; and the young
cavaliers found their pastime in practising cruelties on the natives. In
the spring, de Soto descended the White River, and became entangled in
the midst of dismal swamps; Indian settlements there were none; the
whole country was apparently interminable morass, forest, and cane
brake. De Soto received in gloomy silence this report from scouts whom
he had sent forward. Horses and men lay dying around him; and, to add
still more to his distress, hostile Indians were coming up on all sides.
His ambitious pride was now changed into deep melancholy, and his health
gave way under the pressure of disappointed hope. Of his gallant
company, three hundred alone remained.
Feeling the approach of death, he summoned his people round him, and
named his successor. The following day he died. “His soldiers,” says
Bancroft, “pronounced his eulogy by sorrowing for his loss. The priests
chanted over his body the first requiem that was ever heard by the
waters of the Mississippi.” His body was wrapped in a mantle, and, in
the dead of night, his soldiers bore him to the middle of the
Mississippi, and silently sunk his body in the river.
Singular to say, this was once more the month of May, four years from
the time of his setting forth; “the spring burst forth gloriously over
the Mississippi,” says a writer on this subject, “but de Soto rose up no
more to meet it.” “The discoverer of the Mississippi,” concludes
Bancroft, “slept beneath its waters. For four years he had wandered to
and fro over a great portion of the continent in search of gold, but he
found nothing so remarkable as his place of burial.”
The successor whom de Soto had appointed now attempted to lead back the
remnant of the party by the way of Mexico; but, after several months’
wanderings and adventures among the hostile tribes of the western
prairies, they retraced their steps to the Mississippi, on the banks of
which they passed the winter. Here they constructed boats, which were
ready for their embarkation in the month of July, and on the 20th of
September, 1543, they arrived, half naked and famished with hunger, at a
Spanish settlement near the mouth of the river Panuco, in Mexico.
Such was the discovery of the Mississippi.
The next adventurer on this ill-fated field was Louis Cancello, a priest
of the Dominican order, anxious to convert the nations: his scheme,
however, fared no better than those of others; the missionary priests
were looked upon with suspicion, and Cancello and two of his companions
fell martyrs to their zeal.
A spell seemed to rest upon these shores; nevertheless the name of
Florida, as if it were full of good omen, was conferred upon the whole
extent of American territory, not only on the portion of Florida proper
on the Mexican gulf, but northward to Canada itself, all of which vast
territory was claimed by Spain; still not a fort was erected on its
shores, not a single colony was established; and when at length a
permanent settlement of the Spaniards was effected in Florida, it was
only by means of jealous and bloody bigotry.
But this will lead us back to France and French affairs. The good
Coligny, admiral of France, who had long been seeking an asylum for the
persecuted Huguenots in America, and who indulged the hope of
establishing a French protestant empire in that country, obtained, after
long perseverance, a commission from the king to that purpose, and in
1562 a squadron sailed for Florida, under command of John Ribault, of
Dieppe, a brave man and a true protestant, accompanied by some of the
best young French nobility, together with experienced troops. Arriving
on the coast in the month of May, 1562, he discovered St. John’s River,
which he named the river of May; the shores were covered with groves of
mulberries, and the whole scenery was of a pleasing character. He sailed
northward, giving French names to the rivers and prominent points of the
shore, until he reached Port Royal entrance, near the southern boundary
of Carolina, and here he resolved to found the colony. A fort was
erected, and called Fort Charles, or the Carolina, in honour of Charles
IX. of France, and this name, given a century before the English took
possession, became the adopted name of the country.
The site of the infant colony delighted its founders; its harbour was
capable of containing a whole navy; immense oaks, the growth of
centuries, groves of pine, abounding with game, and flowers whose
perfume filled the air, rendered the country beautiful. Ribault left
twenty-six men to keep possession, and returned to France for fresh
emigrants and supplies; but in the meantime civil war had begun to rage
in that country, and the reinforcements for which Ribault had come were
not to be had. The condition of the colonists became desperate;
dissensions broke out among them; and the following spring they embarked
in a hastily-constructed brigantine for their native land. Their
provisions, however, were insufficient for the voyage, and they must
have perished of famine had they not fallen in with an English vessel,
which received them on board.
Again, two years later, Coligny renewed his endeavours for the
colonisation of Florida, and three ships were sent out under the command
of Laudonniere. Emigrants offered abundantly, for the fame of the
climate of Florida had awoke general enthusiasm; life there, it was
said, was extended to twice its usual limits, besides which, it was
still believed that a golden realm lay hidden in its interior, and
Coligny, who wished to obtain accurate knowledge of the country, engaged
a painter called De Morgues to accompany the expedition, that he might
make coloured drawings of all scenes and objects which interested him.
The misfortunes of the late colonists of Port Royal deterred the present
from going thither; and after a little search they discovered so
beautiful a situation, that the most delightful anticipations were
excited. The Huguenots thanked God in hymns of praise for a glorious
home of peace, as they believed, in the wilderness. The natives received
them with the utmost kindness, rival tribes vying which should show them
most distinction. Again the new colony received the name of Carolina.
Many of the emigrants, however, who had come out in this expedition were
dissolute adventurers; their excesses turned the hearts of the Indians
against them: the supplies were wasted, and famine threatened them.
Under pretence of desiring to escape from famine, some of their number
were permitted to embark for New Spain, but no sooner was this liberty
granted than they commenced a series of piracies against the Spaniards.
Before long their vessel was taken. Theirs was the first aggression in
the New World, and soon brought down its punishment. The pirate vessel
being seized, most of its men were sold as slaves, and such as escaped
to Carolina were condemned to death by Laudonniere. Meantime the famine
had become extreme; for three months there seemed no prospect but death
for the little colony, and they must have perished had not Sir John
Hawkins, the famous slave-merchant, who was just returning from the West
Indies, whither he had conveyed a cargo of unfortunate Africans,
relieved their wants, and even furnished them with a vessel, in which
they were about to return to France, when Ribault arrived with fresh
emigrants, abundant supplies, implements of husbandry, and domestic
animals of all kinds. New life was infused into the colony; God was
thanked fervently, and protestantism, it was hoped, had now found a safe
and fixed abode in the beautiful Florida.
In the meantime news reached Spain that a company of French protestants
had established themselves in the Spanish territory. Spain at home was
inveterate against France, Catholicism against protestantism; and Pedro
Melendez de Avilès, a soldier long accustomed to scenes of blood, a
bigoted catholic, a naval commander, who, having often been employed
against pirates, was accustomed to acts of summary vengeance, and who
had been appointed to the government of Florida on condition that he
subdued it in three years, introduced at least four Jesuit priests, and
imported five hundred negro slaves for the cultivation of the
sugar-cane, which it was intended to introduce, was now hastily
despatched to his office, with the strict injunction to extirpate all
heretics. The fury in Spain against the heretic-settlers in Florida
waxed hot; between two and three thousand persons, soldiers, sailors,
priests, Jesuits, etc., engaged in the expedition. Melendez, who
considered that “celerity was the secret of success,” lost no time in
any of his movements. Early in September he came in sight of Florida,
and discovering some French ships, gave them chase, but could not
overtake them. A few days later he reached a beautiful bay and river,
and as it happened to be the day of St. Augustine, he gave that name to
both. Soon after which, sailing northward, he discovered the French
ships at anchor.
The French demanded his name, and the purport of his voyage. “I am
Melendez of Spain,” replied he, “sent with strict orders from my king to
gibbet and behead all the protestants in these regions. The Frenchman,
who is a catholic, will I spare; every heretic shall die!”
The French ships not being prepared to fight, cut their cables and fled,
and the Spaniards, unable to overtake them, returned to the harbour of
St. Augustine. Here they took solemn possession of the continent in the
name of the bigoted Philip II., whom they proclaimed king of all North
America, and having performed mass, laid the foundations of St.
Augustine, the oldest town, by forty years, of any in America.
In a few days the French put out to sea, with the intention of attacking
the Spaniards within the harbour; but a furious storm overtook them,
which lasted for more than two weeks, and wrecked every vessel; the
Spaniards in the meantime lying in harbour comparatively safe. Melendez
now marched his troops across the country, and suddenly made an attack
upon the defenceless French settlement, putting to death all whom he
could seize, men, women, and children, the aged and the sick; some few
escaping, fled to the woods and afterwards took shelter on board the
only two ships which had been spared by the tempest. The Spaniards,
enraged that even a remnant had escaped, insulted and mangled the
corpses of the dead. After these scenes of horror were completed, mass
was performed, and the site of a church was selected on the very ground
yet crimson and sodden with the blood of the inoffensive inhabitants.
The few who had escaped to the ships were in the utmost want of every
necessary of life, worn out by fatigue, and destitute both of food and
water. Melendez, who was aware of their wretched condition, promised
them mercy if they would surrender themselves into his hands. Being men
of truth themselves, they believed his words and capitulated. As they
stepped on shore, however, their hands were at once tied behind them,
and they were marched as prisoners into St. Augustine. A signal was
given; and to the sound of drums and trumpets they were all massacred,
with the exception of a few catholics and a few mechanics, who were
reserved for slaves; and over their mangled remains was placed the
inscription, “This is done not as unto Frenchmen, but as unto heretics.”
Nine hundred true men, worshippers of God according to their protestant
faith, are supposed to have perished on those shores, victims of
bigotry.
The French government did not trouble itself about these things; the
Huguenots and the French nation, however, resented them keenly. A bold
soldier of Gascony, Dominic de Gourgues, a man whose life had been a
series of adventures and hardships, sold his property to acquire the
means of avenging the wrongs of his fellow-countrymen and believers.
With one hundred and fifty men and three ships he embarked for Florida;
they were but a handful against the Spanish power, but their object was
not conquest—it was retributive justice, if not revenge. Like Melendez
he came suddenly; and surprising two Spanish forts on St. John’s river,
took them at once, together with a still larger fort on the spot where
the unfortunate French settlement had stood. He executed summary
justice, hung his prisoners on the trees, with this inscription, “I do
this not as unto Spaniards or mariners, but as unto traitors, robbers,
and murderers.” And the Indians, who had been ill-used both by the
French and the Spaniards, looked on well pleased to see their enemies
preying one on another.
Dominic de Gourgues, having avenged his countrymen, again disappeared
with his ships, and France disavowing all cognisance of the
circumstance, relinquished any claim to Florida; and Spain remained in
possession. The Spanish dominion in America was magnificent. Cuba was
the centre of the West Indian possessions. “From the remotest
south-eastern cape of the Carribean,” says the historian. “along the
whole shore, to the Cape of Florida, and beyond it, all was hers. The
Gulf of Mexico lay embosomed within her territories.”
About the time when the impetuous Dominic de Gourgues returned to France
from his swoop of vengeance in Florida, Sir Walter Raleigh, one of the
most gallant spirits of the age, suddenly left his studies at Oxford to
take part with the Huguenots in their struggles against the catholics.
From his protestant friends he heard of the massacre which De Gourgues
had avenged, and from that brave man himself, and his associates, learnt
much also of the country where these scenes had occurred. The
imagination of Raleigh was inflamed; on his return to England he found
the same spirit afloat; a few of the unfortunate Huguenots had escaped
to England, and their tale of wrong had interested even Queen Elizabeth
herself. Hawkins, too, the slaver, who had relieved the famishing
settlement, had much to tell of the wonderful regions where these things
had been done; so had De Morgues, the landscape painter, who had
fortunately escaped with, many sketches of its scenery. The leading
minds of England were turned to Florida.
From the time of Cabot, England had never wholly given up her
intercourse with the New World. English mariners, as well as French,
frequented the fisheries of Newfoundland. Henry VIII. declared that he
considered the discovery of the North “to be his charge and duty;” and
Hakluyt records a wild sea-voyage, conducted by a man named Hore, in
which marvellous things are told far outdoing those of the Ancient
Mariner. The search for the north-western passage still continued; the
fleets of Willoughby and Chancellor set sail. In the north their ships
parted company. The fate of Willoughby was an early tragedy in those
mournful and fatal seas. After a winter of great hardship, the vessels
which went in search of him the following spring found him dead in his
cabin, his journal open before him, containing a record of the ship’s
sufferings to the very day of his death, and with his faithful crew
lying dead around him. Chancellor, on the contrary, was driven in a
north-eastern direction, and reached the harbour of Archangel, and thus
the Russian nation, like another New World, emerged, as it were, into
being. Joint-stock companies, for the discovery of unknown lands, were
first formed in 1555. The marriage of Mary with Philip of Spain brought
the magnificent discoveries and productions of that country into a
closer proximity with England, and a desire to emulate the successes of
Spain in the New World was excited.
The spirit of Elizabeth seconded that of her people. The nation had now
assumed a more determined and a prouder front in their resentment of the
attempt of Spain to render them an appendage to the Spanish crown, and
by the successful struggle of protestantism against catholicism. England
strengthened her navy; frequented the bays and banks of Newfoundland;
sent out adventurers to Russia and Africa; endeavoured to reach Persia
by land, and enlarged her commerce with the East, whilst her privateers
lay in wait at sea for the rich galleons of Spain. The study of
geography was universally cultivated, and books of travels and
adventures by land and sea were eagerly read. Frobisher, the boldest
mariner who ever crossed the ocean, set forth to discover the
long-sought-for north-western, passage, and Queen Elizabeth waved her
hand to him in token of favour, as he sailed down the Thames. Frobisher,
like all the rest of the world, hoped to find gold. If the Spaniards had
found gold in the south, England was confident of finding gold in the
north. Elizabeth entered enthusiastically into the scheme of planting a
colony among the wealthy mines of the polar regions, where gold, it was
said, lay on the surface of the ground. Frobisher was followed by a
second fleet, But they found only frost and icebergs.
Whilst Frobisher and his ships were thus vainly endeavouring to discover
an el Dorado in the north, Sir Francis Drake was acquiring immense
wealth as a freebooter on the Spanish main, and winning great glory by
circumnavigating the globe, after having explored the north-western
coast of America, as far north as the forty-third degree. Sir Humphrey
Gilbert, also, a man of sound judgment and deeply religious mind,
obtained a charter from Queen Elizabeth, in 1578, for the more rational
purposes of colonisation. He set sail with three vessels, accompanied by
his step-brother, Sir Walter Raleigh; but a series of disasters befell
them; the largest vessel was wrecked, and a hundred perished, among whom
was Parmenius, a Hungarian scholar, who had gone out as historian of the
expedition. On the homeward voyage they were overtaken by a great storm.
“We are as near to heaven on sea as on land,” said Sir Humphrey Gilbert,
sitting abaft with a book in his hand. And the same night his little
vessel went down, and all on board perished.
The brave spirit of Sir Walter Raleigh was not discouraged, though he
deeply deplored the loss of his noble step-brother. He resolved now to
secure to England those glorious countries where the poor French
protestants had suffered so deeply; and a patent was readily granted,
constituting him Lord Proprietary, with almost unlimited powers,
according to the Christian protestant faith, of all land which he might
discover between the 33rd and 40th degrees of north latitude. Under this
patent, Raleigh despatched, as avant-courier ships, two vessels under
the command of Philip Armidas and Arthur Barlow. In the month of July
they reached the coast of North America, having perceived while far out
at sea the fragrance as of a delicious garden, from the odoriferous
flowers of the shore. Finding, after some search, a convenient harbour,
they landed, and offering thanks to God for their safe arrival, took
formal possession in the name of the queen of England.
The spot on which they landed was the island of Wocoken. The shores of
this part of America are peculiar, inasmuch as, during one portion of
the year, they are exposed to furious tempests, against which the low
flat shore affords no defence of harbourage; in the summer season, on
the contrary, the sea and air are alike tranquil, the whole presenting
the most paradisaical aspect, whilst the vegetation is calculated to
strike the beholder with wonder and delight. The English strangers
beheld the country under its most favourable circumstances; the grapes
being so plentiful that the surge of the ocean, as it lazily rolled in
upon the shore, dashed its spray upon the clusters. “The forests formed
themselves into wonderfully beautiful bowers, frequented by multitudes
of birds. It was like a garden of Eden, and the gentle, friendly
inhabitants appeared in unison with the scene. On the island of Roanoke
they were received by the wife of the king, and entertained with
Arcadian hospitality.”
Charmed by all that they had seen, the English voyagers returned, after
a very short stay, having laden their ships with cedar, to which were
added skins and furs obtained from the Indians, and sassafras, which had
been introduced from Florida by the Spaniards, and was in great repute
as a panacea; besides all this they carried with them two natives of
this western paradise, Manteo and Wanchese. So glowing were the
descriptions which they gave of the country that Elizabeth, who regarded
it as an honour to her reign that during it these glorious lands had
been discovered, conferred upon them her favourite appellation of
Virginia.
The report brought by these heralds of discovery excited the utmost
enthusiasm, and Raleigh, who was now knighted, made active preparations
for a second expedition, which should consist of seven vessels, and take
out one hundred and fifty colonists. Sir Ralph Lane was appointed
governor of the colony, and Sir Richard Grenville, one of the bravest
men of the age, took the command of the fleet. They set sail on the 9th
of April, 1585, reckoning among their company many distinguished
men—Cavendish, afterwards the circumnavigator, and Hariot, the inventor
of the system of notation in modern algebra, being of the number. After
some few disasters and narrowly escaping shipwreck on the coast of
Florida, they reached Roanoke, where it was intended to found the
colony. Manteo, one of the Indians who had accompanied the former party
to England, and had now returned, being first sent on shore to announce
their intention to the natives. Immediately afterwards a circumstance
occurred which is to be regretted. Grenville, Lane, and others of the
principal adventurers, made an excursion up the country, being
everywhere well received by the natives. At one Indian town, however, a
silver cup was stolen, and not being immediately restored, Grenville
ordered the village to be set fire to, and the standing corn destroyed.
This naturally incensed the natives.
The colonists, however, landed, and soon afterwards the ships returned
to England; Grenville taking a rich Spanish prize by the way. Lane and
his colonists explored the country, and Lane wrote home: “It is the
goodliest soil under the cope of heaven; the most pleasing territory in
the world; the continent is of a huge and unknown greatness, and very
well peopled and towned, though savagely. The climate is so wholesome
that we have none sick. If Virginia had but horses and kine and were
inhabited by English, no realm in Christendom were comparable to it.”
Hariot’s observations were directed to “the natural inhabitants,” and to
the productions of the colony with reference to commerce; he observed
the culture of tabacco, used it himself, and had great faith in its
salutary qualities; he paid great attention to the maize and the
potatoe, “which when boiled he found to be good eating.” He carefully
studied the manners, customs, and faith of the Indians; exhibited to
them his mathematical instruments, guns, clocks, etc., exciting in their
minds the utmost respect and reverence for the English, as pupils and
favourites of heaven. He exhibited the Bible to them wherever he went,
and explained its truths, which affected them with profound regard and
awe. The fire-arms which killed at a distance filled them with
superstitious terror. Their wise men prophesied that “more of the
English generation would yet come, who would kill theirs and take their
places.”
In the meantime, the mass of the colonists, who were rabid for gold,
listened to wonderful tales invented by artful Indians, who wished to be
rid of these awe-inspiring strangers. The river Roanoke, they said,
gushed forth from a rock near the Pacific Ocean, that a nation dwelt on
its remote banks, skilful in refining gold, and that they occupied a
city the walls of which glittered with pearls. Even sir Richard Lane was
credulous enough to believe these tales, and ascended the river with a
party in order to reach this golden region. They advanced onward,
finding nothing, till they were reduced to the utmost extremity of
famine. The Indians, disappointed by their return, resolved to cultivate
no more corn, so that they might be driven from the country by want, and
the English, divining their views, having invited the chief to a
conference, fell upon him and slew him, with many of his followers. Lane
was unfit for his office. This act of treachery exasperated the Indians
to such a degree that they would no longer give him supplies. The colony
was about to perish by famine, as the Indians desired, when Sir Francis
Drake appeared outside the harbour with a fleet of twenty-three ships.
He was on his way from the West Indies, and was now come to visit his
friends. No visit could have been more opportune nor more welcome.
He supplied their wants; appropriated to them a vessel of seventy tons
with pinnaces and small boats. All that they could need for sustenance
or for the pursuit of discovery, he appointed for them. Strange however
to say, a sudden storm came on; there was no security for the fleet but
to weigh anchor and go out to sea; when the tempest was over, and Drake
returned to the shore, he found all his preparations for the colony
scattered as wrecks on the waves. The colonists were completely
disheartened; and at their entreaties Drake received them on board his
ships, and conveyed them back to England, after an absence of about
twelve months, during which time they had accustomed themselves to the
use of tobacco, which they now carried home with them.
They were gone; but scarcely had they left the shore, when a ship
despatched by Raleigh, who had not forgotten them, arrived with all
possible supplies, but which, finding the colony had vanished, set sail
again homeward; and scarcely had it left the shore, when Sir Richard
Grenville arrived with three ships, and he, too, after vainly searching
about for the missing colony, departed, leaving fifteen men on Roanoke
to keep possession for the English.