The voyage of the Virginia colonists began, as it ended, in a storm. One
of their number, Thomas Studley, tells the story in quaint language:[11]
"By unprosperous winds we were kept six weekes in the sight of England;
all of which time, Maister Hunt our Preacher was so weak and sicke that
few expected his recoverie. Yet although he were but 10 or 12 miles from
his habitation (the time we were in the Downes), and notwithstanding the
stormie weather, nor the scandalous imputations (of some few little better
than Atheists, of the greatest ranke amongst us) suggested against him;
all this could never force from him so much as a seeming desire to leave
the businesse so many discontents did then arise; had he not, with the
water of patience, and his godly exhortations (but chiefly by his true
devoted examples) quenched those flames of envie and dissension."
By "the Atheist of greatest ranke" was meant, doubtless, George Percy, the
Roman Catholic; but in the light of his subsequent career it is impossible
to believe him guilty of "scandalous imputations" or "disastrous designs."
We can imagine young Percy wrapped in his cloak and pacing the deck of
the ship, his face perhaps turned northward where lay his forefathers'
estates, crowned by Alnwick Castle, the princely home for many generations
of the Percys, Earls of Northumberland, "for virtue and honour second to
not any in the country." From Alnwick Castle had gone forth more than one
Harry Hotspur to risk all and lose all in the Border wars, and later in
the intestine wars of England. An Earl of Northumberland had taken arms
in defence of the unhappy Queen of Scots and paid for his devotion on
the scaffold. His brother Henry, Earl of Northumberland, father of George
Percy, had been committed to the Tower, accused of conspiring to liberate
Queen Mary, and had destroyed himself "to balk Elizabeth of the forfeiture
of his lands." Decision between conflicting parties had often been forced
upon these noble earls, and been met openly, bravely, and loyally, whether
or no the cause had prospered.
Upon the accession of James to the throne, the fortunes of the family
had seemed to revive. To George Percy's brother had been assigned the
honour of announcing to him the death of Elizabeth. The present Earl of
Northumberland (the eldest brother of George Percy) had rapidly risen in
favour. Then the discovery of the fatal Gunpowder Plot--the treason of
fanatic Catholics--had revealed a Percy among its most active ringleaders.
Although a distant relative of the Earl, he was still a Percy; and all who
bore the name suffered from unjust suspicion. The Earl of Northumberland
was now a prisoner in the Tower, accused of no crime except a desire to
be a leader of the detested Roman Catholics. George Percy could hope for
no honour, no career, no home in England. Nor could he expect to find
career, home, honour in the wilderness, but there he could at least hide
his breaking heart!
That he was a brave, honourable gentleman we know from the testimony of
those who laboured with him for the good of the colony. Without doubt he
held himself aloof from his fellows on the voyage. He was on the deck on
the night of the 12th of February, and perhaps turning his longing eyes
toward his northern home, when he saw a blazing star,--which flashed
out of the sky for a moment and was as suddenly hidden in darkness,--fit
emblem of the fallen fortunes of his house. He simply records the fact
in his calm "Discourse of the Plantation," adding "and presently came a
storm."
The baleful "flames of envy and dissension" were not altogether quenched
by good Master Hunt's "waters of patience." They broke out again and again
during the long voyage of five months. John Smith appears to have angered
his fellow-travellers in some way, and he was held in confinement during
part of the voyage. It is even stated that when they arrived at the island
of Mevis a gallows was erected for him, but "he could not be prevailed
upon to use it." He was, by far, the ablest man among the first colonists.
In the twenty-nine years of his life he had adventures enough for all the
historical novels of a century. Perhaps he boasted of them too much, and
thus excited "envy and dissension." Have they not filled nearly a thousand
pages of a late story of his life? He could tell of selling his books and
satchel when he was a boy to get money to run away from home; of startling
events all along until he fought the Turks in Transylvania; of cutting
off the heads, in combat, of three of them "to delight the Ladies who did
long to see some court-like pastime"; of inventing wonderful fire-signals
which were triumphantly successful in war; of beating out the brains of a
Bashaw's head; of imprisonment and peril, in which lovely ladies succoured
him. What wonder that all this, and more, told in a masterful way, should
have aroused suspicion that he intended to seize the government of the
colony, aided and abetted by conspirators already at hand in all three of
the ships!
Evidently the voyage was not a dull one. It was diversified also by
frequent storms--no light matter in the little rolling vessels. The path
of the ships was not the one we now travel in six days. The mariner in the
sixteenth century and the early days of the next knew but one path across
the ocean--that sailed by Columbus. They turned their prows southward,
"watered" at the Bahamas, and then sought the Gulf Stream to help them
northward again.
Captain Newport's destination was Roanoke Island; part of his duty was to
search for Raleigh's lost colony. Three days "out of his reckoning," his
passengers, like Columbus's crew, grew discontented and discouraged, and
wished to return homeward. At last they sighted the shores of Virginia,
and a tempest blew them within the capes of Chesapeake Bay. Upon one
of these they erected a cross, naming the cape "Henry" in honour of the
Prince of Wales. The opposite point was named after the King's second son,
the Duke of York, afterward Charles the First. Attempting to land here,
they were met with a flight of arrows--a stern Virginia welcome--and two
of their number were wounded. The new nation was born in a storm, its
baptism was of blood, and the Furies relentlessly hovered over its cradle.
When the sealed box was opened, the appointed council was found to be
Bartholomew Gosnold, Edward Maria Wingfield, Christopher Newport, John
Ratcliffe, John Martin, George Kendall, and their prisoner John Smith.
These were to elect their own President for one year. Later they elected
Wingfield.[12] He and the Council were invested with the government;
affairs of moment were to be examined by a jury, but determined by the
Council. The first presidential election in the United States of America
was held April 26, 1607.
Seventeen days were spent in quest of a place of settlement, sailing up
and down the river, on the banks of which the Indians were clustered like
swarming bees. Sundry adventures of small moment introduced them rather
favourably to the Indians, who seemed, Percy thought, "as goodly men" as
any he had "ever seen of savages, their prince bearing himself in a proud,
modest fashion with great majesty." What they thought of the English had
already been expressed in an unequivocal manner. They, however, offered
no further violence.
[Illustration: Memorial erected by Clergy of the Episcopal Church at
Jamestown Island.
Copyright, 1906, by Jamestown Official Photo. Corp'n. ]
According to instructions in their locked box, the colonists were
admonished not to settle too near the bay because of the Spaniards, nor
away from the highway--the river--because of the Indians. At last they
found a peninsula which impressed them favourably. It was on the north
side of the river Powhatan, as James River was called by the savages, and
fifty-eight above the Virginia capes.[13] The peninsula, now an island,
was small, only two and three-fourths miles long and one-fourth of a mile
wide. It was connected with the mainland by a little isthmus, apparent
only at low tide; and this was the spot selected for the settlement which
was named, in honour of the King, Jamestown.
They could hardly have made a worse selection. The situation was extremely
unhealthful, being low and exposed to the malaria of extensive marshes
covered with water at high tide. The settlers landed, probably in the
evening because of the tide, on the 13th of May, 1607.[14] This was the
first permanent settlement effected by the English in North America,
after a lapse of one hundred and ten years from the discovery of the
continent by the Cabots, and twenty-two years after the attempt to
colonize it under the auspices of Sir Walter Raleigh. Upon landing, the
Council took the oath of office; Edward Maria Wingfield, as we have seen,
was elected President, and Thomas Studley, Cape-Merchant or Treasurer.
Smith was excluded from the Council upon some false pretences. Dean Swift
says, "When a great genius appears in the world, the dunces are all in
confederacy against him."
One reason for the selection of the low peninsula was the fact that the
water was deep enough near the banks of the river for the ships to be
moored close to the land and tethered to the trees, thus facilitating the
transportation of the cargo. These trees presented a novel appearance to
the Englishmen. The Indians had stripped them of their lower branches as
high as a man could reach, for they had no axes to aid them in collecting
fuel. All the tangled undergrowth had been cleared away and burned.
A horseman could safely ride through them. The grove was like a great
cathedral with many columns, its floor tiled with moss and sprinkled with
flowers. We may be sure that good Master Hunt gathered his flock around
him without delay, and standing in their midst under the trees uttered,
for the first time in the western world, the solemn invocation:
"The Lord is in His Holy Temple;
Let all the earth keep silence before Him."
The new land had been claimed for an earthly potentate; he now claimed
it for the King of kings. Immediately "all hands fell to work." Every
article, every utensil, was removed from the ships, which were to be
no longer the homes of the colonists. The stores were brought on land
and covered with old sails; a hasty barricade was thrown up for defence
against the savages; tents were set up; but we are told that the soft
May air was so delicious, the men elected to lie upon the warm earth; and
there, having set their watch to "ward all the night," with nothing but
the whispering leaves between them and the stars, they slept the sweet
sleep of weariness of body and contentment of soul.