Class. 
 Book 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 
 
 y 
 
THE YOUTH 
 
 OF 
 
 THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 BY 
 
 SAMUEL HOPKINS. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY JOHN P. JEWETT & CO. 
 
 CLEVELAND, OHIO : 
 JEWETT, PROCTOR, AND WORTHLNGTON. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 SHELDON, BL AXEMAN, & CO. 
 
 1856. 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by 
 
 JOHN P. JEWETT & CO., 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY METCAI.F AND COMPANY. 
 
Many narratives of our early history which are par- 
 ticularly designed for novices are read as tasks, laid 
 aside with a sense of weariness, and their statistical 
 details soon forgotten. 
 
 I venture an experiment, endeavoring to give to the 
 Past the- aspect and hue of Life, to excite a personal 
 interest in events which would secure little or none 
 as unclothed facts. For this purpose, something of 
 fancy has been necessarily admitted, but all idea of 
 fiction is seriously disclaimed. Any one familiar 
 with the annals of youthful Virginia will here recog- 
 nize, it is believed, a scrupulous regard to historic 
 truth. 
 
 A volume designed for popular reading need not 
 be encumbered with references. They might have 
 been given profusely, but will be found only where 
 some statement in the text has seemed particularly to 
 require them. 
 
 The authorities upon which I have relied, and to 
 
IV ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 which I have carefully adhered, are Hillard, Simms, 
 Smith, Stith, Beverly, Burk, Keith, Campbell, Force's 
 collection of historical papers, and two or three tracts, 
 old and rare, which are noted in the course of the 
 volume. For the generous loan of these, I am in- 
 debted to the Libraries of Harvard, Yale, and Am- 
 herst Colleges, and to that of the Boston Athenaeum. 
 More modern writers have also been consulted ; and 
 I have only to regret that others have not been at my 
 command. 
 
 These statements are due to the form in which the 
 following narrative is cast ; a form which I may ap- 
 ply to the early history of our other Colonies, should 
 circumstances permit. 
 
 S. H. 
 
 April, 1856. 
 
(p 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGB 
 THE BATTLE-FIELD 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN 8 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE YOUNG ADVENTURER 19 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SELF-EMANCIPATION 40 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE PIONEERS 49 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE BRUISED REED. — THE EXECUTION .... 64 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 POCAHONTAS 77 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE ROYAL SHARPER. — THE CONFLAGRATION. — GOLD 92 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS 108 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE CORONATION. — GENTLEMEN AT WORK . . . 123 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. — SINGLE COMBATS. — PEACE. — 
 
 ANARCHY 142 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE LAST CAROUSE. — STARVATION. — RESCUE . .177 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MARRYLNG A PEACE 198 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ANNALS. — THE ASSEMBLY. — WIVES. — SERVANTS. — 
 
 PROSELYTING 217 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 OVER THE WATER 235 
 
CONTENTS. Vll 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE CONSTITUTION. — OPECHANCANOUGH. — JACK-OF- 
 „ THE-FEATHER 251 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT 273 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE CHARTER ABROGATED 301 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ANNALS 309 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE . . . . .318 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL 341 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 FRONTIER LIFE 356 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE YOUNG PROTECTOR 383 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 76, JULY FOURTH .... ... 400 
 
Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE INSURRECTION 418 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE SIEGE. THE CATASTROPHE 440 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 REVENGE 456 
 
THE 
 
 YOUTH OP THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 " God is great ! Extolled be the perfection of Him 
 who changeth others, but is not changed ! " 
 
 Such were the words of Mustapha Bey, as he wiped 
 his dripping blade upon the mane of his charger. 
 
 " Thou sayest well, my lord," replied Belgogi, a 
 Tartar chief, who bore marks of desperate fight. 
 " Praise be to God, who hath enabled us to tri- 
 umph ! " 
 
 " There is no strength nor power but in God, the 
 High, the Great! But may the victories like this 
 which He grants to the faithful be few ! " And there 
 was heavy gloom upon his brow as Mustapha sur- 
 veyed the battle-field. 
 
 Thirty thousand men lay there, weltering in blood ; 
 more than twenty thousand followers of El Islam, and 
 nearly ten thousand who had fought under the ban- 
 ner of the cross. The dying shriek of the war-horse, 
 and the dying groan, imprecation, or prayer of the 
 mangled soldier, were making terrific discord there, as 
 
A THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the sun was sinking to his rest. Such was the scene 
 ill the valley of Veristhorne, on the 18th of November, 
 in the year of our Lord 1602. At sunrise, forty 
 thousand Turks and Tartars had intercepted the re- 
 treat of eleven thousand veteran warriors of the Ger- 
 man Emperor Rodolph II., under the Earl of Mel- 
 dritch, in the narrow and rugged pass where the 
 mountain of Rotterton, in the province of Wallachia, 
 abuts on the river Altus. The gallant band of Chris- 
 tians, cut off from all possibility of retreat, had dis- 
 covered their condition without dismay, and prepared 
 to die as soldiers should die. At high noon, they had 
 received and repulsed the headlong charge of Mus- 
 tapha Bey. Belgogi, with his wild squadrons, had 
 come to the rescue. Legion had followed legion, 
 each fresh and each fierce. Until nearly sunset, the 
 Christians had stood firm, dealing dreadful but un- 
 availing havoc upon their fierce assailants. Their gen- 
 eral, hopeless of all else, had then concentrated the 
 remnant of his little army, and heroically headed them 
 in the desperate attempt to cut their way through, the 
 dense masses before them. With a handful of sur- 
 vivors, he had already reached the banks of the Altus. 
 
 " By Allah!" exclaimed Belgogi, "the Nazarenes 
 take to the river ! The dogs ! they would rather 
 drown than bleed ! May Azraeel * gather them under 
 his wing ! " 
 
 Mustapha and his staff looked on in breathless si- 
 lence. The fugitives were plunging into the stream, 
 and in a few moments they were beyond the reach of 
 Moslem sword or spear. A brief struggle with the 
 
 * The angel of death. 
 
THE BATTLE-FIELD. 3 
 
 waters, and Meldritch, with only thirteen hundred 
 faint and bleeding horsemen, gained the farther shore. 
 Save a few who were floating, helpless and dying, 
 upon the current, all the rest of his eleven thousand 
 braves were strewn on the field of strife. With the 
 plunge of the last Christian into the waters, all sound 
 of conflict ceased. The victors stood gazing with 
 admiration, and even with a chivalric satisfaction, 
 upon this last and successful struggle of their foes. 
 Among the group which we have designated, Mus- 
 tapha broke the silence. 
 
 " God, the all-seeing and all-knowing, who hath 
 appointed a cause for every event, hath decreed their 
 escape. The will of the Compassionate, the Merci- 
 ful, is good." Then, turning to one of his aids : 
 " Let the signal of recall be given, and the field 
 searched for the living. The sword of the believer 
 is the key of heaven and of hell." 
 
 With this significant license for the slaughter of 
 the disabled Christians, the general and his staff de- 
 parted. The slain and wounded lay literally in heaps ; 
 for regiment after regiment had grappled over the 
 bodies of the fallen, and added their own to the ghast- 
 ly pile. The field was now rapidly searched in every 
 direction by detached parties, who dragged forth the 
 dying from the dead, bearing away their fellows, but 
 for the most part despatching the Christians with the 
 dagger. Those only were spared whose appearance 
 gave promise of a large ransom. 
 
 As the two victorious generals, with their attend- 
 ants, were leisurely pursuing their way, the hoof of 
 Relgogi's steed struck upon a prostrate cavalier^ who 
 writhed convulsively under the blow, uttered a mo- 
 
4 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 mentary cry of pain, and sank again upon his bloody 
 bed. The Tartar, with a hissing curse, aimed a pass- 
 ing blow at "the Christian dog," and pursued his 
 way. 
 
 The movement and the outcry of the wounded man 
 attracted the attention of a rambling party, who in- 
 stantly advanced, but found him relapsed into insen- 
 sibility. His war-horse lay lifeless, and in his fall had 
 pinned to the ground his rider, who still, all uncon- 
 scious as he was, retained a rigid grasp upon his 
 sword. 
 
 " It was the dog's last howl. The soul of the 
 Giaour * has gone to its doom," said one of the par- 
 ty as he spurned the body. 
 
 " By Allah ! " exclaimed a comrade, " he has left us 
 a goodly spoil. This belt, this cimeter, — three hun- 
 dred ducats could not buy the like. Jewels too ! " 
 said he, removing a diamond locket and brooch, while 
 the other wrenched away the splendid sword of the 
 soldier, and a third raised the body to secure its gor- 
 geous belt. A deep groan arrested the plunderers, 
 one of whom instantly drew his dagger, exclaiming, 
 " To thy place, thou accursed ! " 
 
 " By the beard of the Prophet, hold ! — thou shalt 
 not," shouted he who supported the knight, and par- 
 rying the stroke of his companion. u "WouMst spurn 
 Fortune, as thou didst the unbeliever ? " 
 
 " Fortune ! " retorted the other in a mocking tone. 
 « Where ? " 
 
 " Art blind ? Look at the steed. Look at his trap- 
 pings. Look at the rich appointments of his lord. 
 
 * In Turkey, an unbeliever or infidel. 
 
THE BATTLE-FIELD. D 
 
 This is no common soldier, Abdallah ! but an officer, 
 a nobleman, perchance a prince. He can pay a 
 princely ransom, and will bring a price on the mart. 
 Put up thy blade." 
 
 u Lo, mine eyes open, Selim ! Thou speakest 
 wisely. It is the will of Allah that we sell the dog, 
 and who shall resist that which is appointed ? " 
 
 The men now extricated their captive from his 
 horse, and, having removed his casque and corslet, 
 busily chafed his temples, stanched his wounds, and 
 administered such simple restoratives as they chanced 
 to have. 
 
 " By Allah ! what have we here ? " said Selim, as 
 the pallid face of the officer was exposed. " Some 
 one strayea from its mother? Yet it hath a little 
 beard, Abdallah! as thou mayest see by inspec- 
 tion." 
 
 " Youthful and comely," replied the other ; " scarce- 
 ly ripe for battle. No warrior, methinks. He cannot 
 have earned his rank by his arm ; it must have come 
 to him by birth." 
 
 " Not ripe for battle ! " said Ali, the other of the 
 party. " He is a very David." * 
 
 " A David ! " exclamed Abdallah. 
 
 " The lion, and the bear, and the Philistine thought 
 David was a man of valor." 
 
 " And a stripling," retorted Ali. 
 
 * Mohammedans acknowledge, as " the uncreated word of God, re- 
 vealed to his prophets," the five books of Moses, the Psalms of David, 
 and the Gospels of Jesus Christ ; but these they consider greatly cor- 
 rupted. The Koran they regard as in an uncorrupted and incorruptible 
 state, as surpassing in excellence all preceding revelations, and as hav- 
 ing abrogated them. Lane's Arabian Nights, Note 1 to the Introduction. 
 1* 
 
 »/ 
 
6 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 « And this lad ? " 
 
 " Is a stripling and a David." 
 
 " Meanest a prince ? So J judged by his accou- 
 tring." 
 
 " Nay ; but a warrior." 
 
 " Thou hast a vein for silly riddles, Ali ! " 
 
 u Abdallah ! Selim ! Ye are bold and war-worn, 
 with scars which will exalt you. Yet had you met 
 this boy to-day, you would have found him a lion's 
 whelp, and might have been in Paradise to-night." 
 
 " Cease prating." 
 
 " What dost mean ? " 
 
 " I know his armor and his war-horse. When the 
 unbelievers were hewing their way through our squad- 
 rons, that sword was his plaything. Not a stroke of 
 it but brought a Moslem to the ground. It was a 
 Tartar's spear which felled his horse ; and the horse 
 which pinioned him. By Allah! a second David!" 
 
 " Didst see it ? " 
 
 " Wast near ? " 
 
 " I saw it, content to be no nearer. Do I not speak 
 truth, O son of perdition ? " seeing the young man 
 feebly raise his eyelids. 
 
 It was but a vacant, bewildered look, and for a 
 moment only. But now the efforts of his captors 
 were becoming so rapidly effectual, that conversation 
 ceased, and the whole attention of the soldiers was 
 given to the sufferer. At length he became able to 
 aid in his own removal, and was taken to a rude shel- 
 ter hurriedly constructed for the wounded. When 
 found by his captors, the tide of life had almost ebbed 
 from the veins of the fallen youth ; for the rush of 
 battle had been terrific over him, and many a blow 
 
THE BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 had he received from sword and spear, and ironed 
 hoof, as he lay there pinioned, but righting to the last. 
 Weeks of skilful and even tender nursing elapsed 
 before he was restored to strength. His keepers ex- 
 ulted over his recovery, as each day developed in him 
 not only a remarkable vigor and symmetry of person, 
 but a countenance which commanded both admira- 
 tion and respect. The expression of his eye, in par- 
 ticular, was anything but imperious or defiant ; yet its 
 most transient glance disclosed an inward nobleness, 
 and power of purpose, which even the haughtiest Turk 
 felt and acknowledged. He was now ready for mar- 
 ket, and was transported, with some scores of his 
 fellow-prisoners, to Axiopolis, or Rassovat, in the 
 neighboring province of Bulgaria. Here he was sold, 
 as his captors had anticipated, for a high price, and 
 became the chattel personal of the Bashaw Bogall. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 
 
 Charatza Tragabigzanda, a budding Turkish 
 maiden, was reclining upon the divan of her apart- 
 ment in Constantinople. She had just completed her 
 morning toilet, and had abandoned herself to the luxu- 
 rious repose in which the Muslim-eh of the higher 
 class pass much of their time. She was surrounded 
 by all the elegant appurtenances of Oriental wealth. 
 A beautiful lute lay at her feet ; the cushions upon 
 which she reposed were of the most costly stuffs ; 
 birds of rare plumage were singing in their gilded 
 cages ; the morning air, laden with the fragrance of 
 flowers, was gushing freely through the lattice ; while 
 a small fountain threw up its jet of sparkling water 
 from the centre of the " durka'ah," or depressed por- 
 tion of the room. The maiden turned her eyes lan- 
 guidly around, and breathed a light sigh expressive of 
 dissatisfaction. Her rich drapery, her sparkling jew- 
 els, and all the adornments of her apartment, had evi- 
 dently failed to give her pleasure. 
 
 This was natural ; for there is an instinctive and 
 immortal craving in every human soul which no form 
 of luxury or beauty can satisfy, — never, perhaps, 
 more distinctly felt or emphatically confessed than 
 when the heart has just come to scorn the toys of 
 childhood, and to feel the opening aspirations of its 
 
THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 9 
 
 immortal nature. Then a chance hour of idleness or 
 lassitude reveals that self is not enough for self, and 
 that " the elements of the world are beggarly " in 
 comparison to the want within. 
 
 "A solemn murmur in the soul 
 Tells of the world to be ; 
 As travellers hear the billows roll 
 Before they reach the sea." 
 
 It was this sensation of unsatisfied immortality which 
 made the maiden sigh. 
 
 " Fatima ! " she suddenly exclaimed, " thy lute ! 
 Strike one of the happy airs of thy country." 
 
 A beautiful Abyssinian slave,* who stood at the 
 opposite end of the " aa'h " or saloon, her arms meek- 
 ly folded upon her bosom, promptly answered the 
 command of her mistress. But in vain. The fair 
 maiden soon tired, and, with something like petu- 
 lance, reproached her attendant for want of skill. 
 
 " O my mistress ! " humbly replied the girl, " would 
 that I had skill ! Command thy slave to something 
 which shall make thine heart light. Shall I send for 
 a reciter of romances ? " 
 
 " Nay, girl : neither tales nor music suit me. Am 
 I not peevish, my faithful one ? " caressing her. " Me- 
 thinks the fault is here," laying her hand upon her 
 heart. " And yet what sorrow have I ? what want ? 
 Allah preserve me ! " 
 
 " May the Compassionate help thee ! " devoutly 
 ejaculated the slave. 
 
 * The slaves usually called Abyssinians, although from, the territories 
 of the Gallas, appear to have been a mixed race between negroes and 
 whites. Many of the females among them were very beautiful. Lane's 
 Arabian Nights, Note 13, Chap. I. 
 
10 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 For a while the mistress relapsed into silence, 
 gazing at the play of the fountain with a listlessness 
 which pained the devoted and watchful Fatima, who 
 was glad when they were interrupted by the entrance 
 of a eunuch of the household. With the customary 
 Oriental reverence, he solemnly presented, upon a 
 salver of exquisite workmanship, a letter whose per- 
 fume filled the apartment, and as solemnly retired. It 
 was certainly with apathy that the fair lady received 
 and held negligently a missive which she well knew 
 abounded with protestations of love and adoration. 
 
 " What Allah hath decreed must be fulfilled," she 
 murmured. " Heigho ! Girl, this Bashaw talks of 
 love. Think you he knows what it is ? " 
 
 " How could he fail to know who is espoused to so 
 much loveliness ? " 
 
 " Loveliness, forsooth ! He hath not seen me. For 
 aught he knows, I may be as ugly as Iblees." * 
 
 " The beauty of the Houris is known on earth, yet 
 no man living hath seen them. So are the charms of 
 my mistress known. Birds of the air have reported 
 them. And many are they who sigh to possess 
 them." 
 
 " Silly girl ! What saith the Prophet of those who 
 flatter with their lips ? This Bashaw would be my 
 lord and master, and I suppose is appointed unto me 
 by Heaven. But as for love, — fie, girl ! Here, cut 
 this silk." 
 
 The silken band of the letter was cut, and at length 
 the lady languidly opened its folds. As she read, she 
 broke into a merry laugh. 
 
 * Chief of the evil Jinn. The evil Jinn are supposed to be " horribly 
 hideous." Lane's Arabian Nights, note 21 to the Introduction. 
 
THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 11 
 
 " O thou most valiant Bashaw ! " she exclaimed. 
 " Girl ! of a surety the lord Bogall doth love ! Verses 
 do not prove it. Gifts of jewels, and gifts of embroid- 
 ered apparel, and gifts of Arabian perfumes, do not 
 prove it. But what shall we say now ? O daughter 
 of the burning deserts ! When one's betrothed fights, 
 and wades in blood, and braves death, to win a gift 
 for his mistress, must we not say, * Love hath pos- 
 sessed him ' ? And yet methinks love would not 
 speak such swelling words." 
 
 " Thy slave is slow of understanding. Didst thou 
 speak of winning battles ? " 
 
 u Yes, girl ; I suppose so. The Bashaw Bogall 
 hath proved himself a warrior, of which I had not 
 dreamed. He hath sent me a gift won in battle, a 
 useful gift, — a gift that hath life. Now, I suppose, I 
 must love and adore." 
 
 " That hath life ! A bird, my mistress ? " 
 
 " Silly child ! No." 
 
 " A gazelle ? " 
 
 « No." 
 
 The girl's countenance fell, and she clasped the 
 hand of her mistress. 
 
 " O my mistress ! do not say that he hath sent 
 another to come between thee and me ! " 
 
 " Thou art nearer in thy guess, Fatima." 
 
 The girl covered her face in silence. Soon the hot 
 tears streaming through her fingers, and then sobs, 
 betrayed her agony. 
 
 " Cease, girl, cease ! " cried her mistress, startled at 
 this outburst of affectionate passion. " Thou 'rt 
 wrong. < Between me and thee ! ' Never. Hush, 
 hush, Fatima ! look up." 
 
12 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 The girl obeyed, and the roguish, arch look of her 
 mistress dispelled her fear and checked her emotion. 
 
 " It would have broken my heart," she murmured. 
 
 " Listen, child ! The decrees of Heaven are mys- 
 terious, and it was certainly a mysterious decree 
 which sent the Bashaw to fight in a real battle. Of 
 a truth he hath done valiantly. He hath captured an 
 enemy, and hath sent him to me as a trophy. A 
 male memlook,* that is all. Shall a man (always 
 saving my hero-lord) come between me and thee ! 
 There, wipe thy tears." 
 
 " A man-slave for my mistress ! " 
 
 " He shall be my page, child ; and thine too, per- 
 haps, if thou art good. Wilt have him for a lover ? 
 I must cherish him as a memorial of — of — of what? 
 O, I have it, — of chivalry, and of generosity, and of 
 love ; but, especially, of common sense. Think of it, 
 child, a useful gift ! I hope it is not old, or ugly, or 
 halt, or blind." 
 
 So saying, and fairly roused from her pensive 
 humor, she clapped her hands, and was immediately 
 answered by the appearance of another attendant. 
 
 " My lord the Bashaw Bogall hath sent me a cap- 
 tive. Hath the man arrived ? " 
 
 " O my mistress ! he is guarded by two soldiers in 
 the court." 
 
 " Give them entertainment and gold, and bid them 
 go in peace. Then conduct the memlook hither." 
 
 " As he is, lady ? " 
 
 « As he is ! How is he ? " 
 
 " Dressed like an infidel and in irons," said the 
 slave, putting her hand to her throat. 
 
 * White slave. 
 
THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 13 
 
 " What ! collared ? muzzled ? Does he bite ? " 
 
 " Nay, O my mistress, he is gentle." 
 
 " Then he is put in irons because he is so strong ? " 
 
 " I do not know, my mistress, he does not look 
 evil." 
 
 " Off with his irons. Give him apparel fit for the 
 eye of a believer, and send him in with two armed 
 eunuchs." 
 
 " Ironed ! " she continued, turning to Fatima, as 
 the other withdrew. il It is because he is one of those 
 monsters, the Christians. The lord Bogall must be 
 a gallant knight to overcome an adversary so ter- 
 rible." 
 
 Great was her surprise, when, instead of a half- 
 civilized soldier of the ranks, worn and battered by 
 service, and of repulsive person, she found in her 
 presence a man in the flower of youth, of attractive 
 features, of commanding carriage, who, by a digni- . 
 fied, courtly inclination, acknowledged her right to^ 
 his respect. Such were the manliness and indepen- 
 dence of his bearing, that a blush mantled her face, and 
 she instinctively dropped her veil, unable to realize at 
 the moment that he was her slave.* The captive, 
 however, perceived his advantage; for the instant 
 
 * Notwithstanding the strictness with which the Mohammedan women 
 are guarded from the eyes of all men, except their near relatives, yet 
 " a slave may lawfully see the face of his own mistress ; but this privi- 
 lege is seldom granted in the present day to any slave but a eunuch." — 
 Lane's Arabian Nights, Chap. IV. note 39. " It is related that Moham- 
 med once made a present of a man-slave to his daughter Fatimeh ; and 
 when he brought him to her, she had on a garment which was so scanty 
 that she was obliged to leave either her head or her feet uncovered ; and 
 that the Prophet, seeing her in great confusion on that account, told her 
 that she need be under no concern, for that there were none present but 
 her father and her slave." — Lane's Modern Egyptians, Part I. Chap. VI. 
 2 
 
14 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 during which her face was uncovered was sufficient 
 to reveal to his quick perception that it was not only 
 maidenly diffidence, but maidenly admiration, which 
 moved his mistress. 
 
 After a brief silence she addressed him. But he 
 could only reply by a courteous bow, and by a sign 
 denoting his ignorance of her language. Perceiving 
 this, she cut short the interview, by bidding the attend- 
 ing eunuchs to remove him, and to find some one in 
 the household or neighborhood who could communi- 
 cate with him, and who should instruct him in the 
 Turkish tongue. 
 
 "And let him be informed immediately," she add- 
 ed, " that it will be his duty to be in waiting in the 
 anteroom of my apartment, to answer my call, and to 
 perform all the services of my page." 
 
 Left alone with her confidential attendant, she ex- 
 claimed : " By Allah ! the lord Bogall does well to , 
 be proud. To make prisoner of such a man is an 
 exploit not to be forgotten, or to be thought of lightly. 
 What sayest thou, Fatima ? " 
 
 " The diamond on thy brow is the more lustrous 
 for its position. A rare slave, my mistress, and fitly 
 bestowed." 
 
 The lady Tragabigzanda made no rejoinder; but 
 fell to musing, and soon resumed her ordinary occu- 
 pations and amusements. 
 
 Several days passed with nothing worthy of obser- 
 vation, save that the mistress had so many trivial 
 occasions for the presence and services of her mem- 
 look, that it seemed wonderful how she could have 
 been sufficiently served before his arrival. One day 
 she overheard him singing in a low voice. Her atten- 
 
THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 15 
 
 tion was instantly arrested; and, after listening a 
 moment, she suddenly clapped her hands, and the 
 soldier page immediately answered the summons. 
 Looking with ingenuous earnestness in his face, she 
 abruptly addressed him in Italian. 
 
 " Was that an Italian song ? " 
 
 The young man started ; and, with gladness in his 
 face and voice, answered in the same language : " It 
 was. Thank God that I can converse with your lady- 
 ship, in whose custody the fortune of war has placed 
 me." 
 
 With a girlish laugh, — half sincere, half sarcastic, 
 — she replied : " It will be convenient. Thy name." 
 
 « John Smith." 
 
 " Yoo-seef ? A good name. Well bestowed, I 
 trust ; for the patriarch was princely and honored of 
 God." 
 
 The young man bowed in acknowledgment of the 
 rather singular compliment, but simply replied : " John 
 Smith, my lady," endeavoring to correct a careless 
 utterance. 
 
 " I understand, — Yoo-seef. The patriarch, too, was 
 in bondage in his youth, though not captured in battle. 
 Hast thou need of anything for thy comfort ? " 
 
 " Of nothing, lady." 
 
 "It is well. Direct the household to fulfil thy 
 wishes. If they obey thee not, they shall be better 
 taught. Enough." 
 
 The young man retired to his station without ; and 
 an Englishman might have heard him soliloquize 
 gravely : " True, my beautiful lady, the patriarch was 
 not captured in battle. Nor was he by Potiphar's wife. 
 Why, the girl is romantic, and as impressible as wax. 
 
16 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 One can see that in her eye ; so deep and yet so clear, 
 so eloquent of virgin guilessness and trust. John 
 Smith! John Smith! have a care! An unguarded, 
 untaught maiden heart should be held sacred. John 
 Smith ! she miscalls you Joseph ; then be a Joseph." * 
 
 Young as he was, he had great knowledge of the 
 world, and rare sagacity in detecting character. 
 Without the vanity to suppose the lady enamored 
 of himself, he perceived that a mere novice might 
 easily excite her to love. He resolved, therefore, to 
 guard his own honor and conscience by a scrupulous 
 deference, which should serve as a safeguard of her 
 peace. Yet bondage was terribly chafing to one who 
 had hitherto been as free as the winds of heaven ; and 
 he hoped so far to excite the lady's compassion as to 
 effect his deliverance. 
 
 The lady Tragabigzanda, on her part, was only 
 interested in her slave as any maiden, just conscious 
 of needing some unknown good, would have been in 
 a youth of his person and manners. Thus her inward 
 discontent, and her new and fluttering interest, led 
 her, as already remarked, to be constantly demand- 
 ing his presence and conversation. She also indulged 
 a natural curiosity to know his history. 
 
 " Yoo-seef !" said she, as he was one day in at- 
 tendance in her secluded garden, " thou wast of rank 
 in the army ? " 
 
 * It should be borne in mind that the young Joseph is the traditional 
 Apollo, or model of masculine beauty, with the Moslems. If, therefore, 
 the lady was too ready to misunderstand Smith's English pronunciation, 
 she was only guilty of giving utterance to her own impressions by a 
 delicate and well-marked compliment to his person ; but which he could 
 not detect. 
 
THE INDIGNANT MAIDEN. 17 
 
 " Only a major, my lady." 
 
 " Only a major ! " with a look of surprise. " If I un- 
 derstand the Christian title, thou 'rt young to wear it." 
 
 " I was born, gracious lady, in the year 1579 of the 
 Christian era, which is the year 957 of the Hegira, 
 from which you date. Thus I am twenty-two years 
 of age." 
 
 " Thou must have gained military rank through 
 thy family." 
 
 " No, madam ! " said Smith with spirit ; " by my 
 sword. Family influence I never enjoyed." 
 
 " A nobleman, and no family influence ! " 
 
 " A nobleman ! " 
 
 " Art not a Bohemian nobleman ? " asked the lady 
 tartly, and stopping in her walk. 
 
 " A Bohemian ! A nobleman ! No lady, I am an 
 Englishman, and have no pretensions to noble birth." 
 
 " By Allah ! " looking earnestly in his face, " thou 
 dost perplex me " ; and for the first time the captive 
 officer saw her angry. 
 
 " It is my misfortune to have offended your lady- 
 ship?" 
 
 " Wert not taken prisoner when fighting against 
 the armies of the faithful ? " 
 
 " No, my lady, I was left for dead upon the field. 
 Never yet have I been taken prisoner 'when fight- 
 ing.'" * 
 
 The flush of the lady's indignation now changed 
 to pallor, and her lip quivered as she resumed. 
 
 " Yoo-seef ! in the name of the Crucified, tell me 
 the truth. Wast thou not taken prisoner in battle by 
 the Bashaw of Bulgaria, who sent thee hither ? Didst 
 thou not yield to his sword ? " 
 
 2 * 
 
 / 
 
18 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 The Briton met the keen, flashing look of his mis- 
 tress with the coolest scorn ; and answered only by a 
 short, sarcastic laugh. Instead of resenting the seem- 
 ing insult, she resumed, in a tone of real distress : 
 " Answer me, Yoo-seef ! By Jesus, answer me ! " 
 
 " Gracious lady, I never saw the Bashaw of Bul- 
 garia until he bought me a chained captive in the 
 market of Axiopolis." 
 
 " As thou hopest for Paradise, as thou believest in 
 him of Nazareth, this is true ? " 
 
 " As I so hope, and so believe, it is." 
 
 With a look as though she would fathom his very 
 soul, she passionately stamped her foot, bit her lip, 
 bade the Abyssinian follow her, and returned to her 
 apartments with the stately air of an offended queen ; 
 leaving the Englishman very unpleasantly bewil- 
 dered. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 
 
 It was no childish passion which impelled the lady 
 to her retirement; but a keen sense of indignity to 
 her sex. Her womanly nature had been trifled with, 
 and was roused ; and with right womanly spirit did 
 she measure to resent the wrong. All this was be- 
 trayed to the watchful scrutiny of her female attend- 
 ant, by the compressed lip, the dilated eye, the firm 
 and haughty step with which her mistress traversed 
 and retraversed her hall. Fatima, who had heard, but 
 had not understood, the dialogue in the garden, was 
 alarmed by such strange and towering emotion in one 
 hitherto gentle, and even indolent, in all her ways. 
 But she humbly waited in silence for the mystery to 
 be revealed. 
 
 " Ha, girl ! art here ? " said the lady sharply, and 
 stopping in her nervous walk. 
 
 " The loving slave is always at the right hand of 
 her mistress." 
 
 The lady Charatza resumed her walk until she 
 could refrain no longer. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " she exclaimed, with a hysterical laugh ; 
 " a hero ? a warrior ? How cowards do pant for glory, 
 and how they crawl to win it! O thou most in- 
 famous ! " 
 
20 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 An involuntary exclamation escaped the slave, who 
 added, with signs of anger : " Hath the memlook 
 dared to offend? O my mistress ! he speaks a tongue 
 unknown to thy slave." 
 
 " No, child, no. It is the dog Bogall ! the Bashaw 
 of Bulgaria ! By Allah ! he hath dared to lie, — and 
 to me, — me, the lady Tragabigzanda ! Truckles for 
 a slave ; buys him ; sends him to me as a trophy of 
 his own chivalry ; and all the while talks of love, — 
 the reprobate ! Pah ! win my heart and my hand by 
 red-hot perjury ! Stoop to compound a lie, — sugar 
 the cursed potion with the dialect of love, — and then 
 administer it to me ! to me ! Ha ! only a silly woman 
 am I ? a soft, credulous maiden ? fit thing for a man 
 to sport with and befool ? By Allah, — a foul dishonor ! 
 Child ! does love make a man deflower his honor ; 
 strangle his manliness ; degrade his soul ; insult his 
 mistress ? O the detestable ! the accursed I O Allah ! 
 I would rather be a withered virgin, than wife to such 
 a thing! Ay; and would rather mate with such a 
 thing — than be it ! " 
 
 Thus did she vent her indignation against the im- 
 postor who had practised upon her credulity. 
 
 When, at length, her passion had subsided, her 
 curiosity respecting the young officer's history was 
 renewed and strengthened ; and she demanded it ; 
 having first, in artless confidence, made known how 
 bitterly incensed she was at what she called "the 
 outrage " of her professed lover. Disgusted and 
 wounded by the duplicity of the Turk, how natural 
 that she should turn with more than common interest 
 to the young and attractive Christian, the unconscious 
 tool of a wanton imposition. 
 
THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 21 
 
 " Yoo-seef," said she, with an inflexion which star- 
 tled the officer, " relate unto me thy history. Thou 
 wast English-born, thou say est." 
 
 " Gracious lady, my story is not worth the hearing. 
 I was a restless boy, and strayed away for adventure. 
 The Moslem war well-nigh ended my rambles, and 
 the avarice of my captors reserved me for your service. 
 That is all." 
 
 " Nay ; but give me the tale, — for I am weary, 
 sick at heart, and need something, something — 
 Allah ! what is it ? — to refresh me." 
 
 " It will weary thee, lady ; but I obey." 
 
 " I think I must have been a rover born ; for I can- 
 not remember when it was not irksome to stay at 
 home. I was sent to school very young ; but longed 
 to see the world, and to encounter any sort of adven- 
 tures which might require exertion and courage. So, 
 when I was thirteen years of age, I sold my books 
 and satchel to raise money for travel ; but was pre- 
 vented from my purpose by the death of my parents." 
 
 " Then thou wast poor ? " 
 
 " Lads are not intrusted with much money, lady ; 
 and my father would not have consented to my going 
 into foreign lands so young. He left me a fair estate, 
 and under the care of guardians who sent me to a 
 great merchant to make money by traffic, — a busi- 
 ness which I scorned. I ran away ; and my guard- 
 ians furnished me with ten shillings — about three 
 piastres — to get rid of me." 
 
 " To get rid of thee ! " 
 
 " Yes, lady ; they did not like the care of a restless 
 boy ; and they hoped that I might break my neck, and 
 they get my fortune. So I crossed the sea, and 
 wandered to Paris the great city of France." 
 
22 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " Thy age, then ? " 
 " Fifteen." 
 " With friends ? " 
 M Without friend or companion." 
 " Fifteen years, three piastres, and alone ! " 
 " Yes, lady ; save a guardian angel." 
 " Guardian angels in the Christian religion ! " 
 " Yes, lady ; to those who love God." 
 " Strange ! It is like our religion. Every Moslem 
 believer is attended by two guardian and recording 
 angels ; one of whom writes his good actions, the 
 other his evil actions. Well, — thou wast in Paris, 
 with three piastres, and the angel." 
 
 " The piastres had taken flight, and certain others 
 which I had earned. I had only the angel, lady, 
 who brought me to an acquaintance with a gentle- 
 man of Scotland. He was pleased to consider me a 
 youth of some capacity, and befriended me. We 
 soon parted ; when I went to the Low Countries to 
 join my countrymen in fighting to free the people 
 from the tyranny of Spain. I served there between 
 three and four years ; giving myself not only to prac- 
 tise in the ranks with spear and sword and battle-axe, 
 but to horsemanship and the science of war. I wished 
 to perfect myself in all martial knowledge and exploit 
 which my tender years could attain to." 
 
 " A born rover, — saidst thou? A born soldier, 
 rather." 
 
 " I then returned to England, where I passed some 
 time in seclusion ; studying, and practising with horse 
 and spear. I then determined to seek my fortune in 
 the wars against the Turks. You know, lady, how 
 they hate each other." 
 
THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 23 
 
 " Yes ; and why is it ? I am sure I hated all 
 Christians, and thought them monsters; with great 
 teeth like a dog's, with jaws smeared with Moslem 
 blood, with great, glaring, bloodshot eyes, and covered 
 with hair like apes, until — until — " 
 
 The lady faltered, slightly colored, and signed to 
 the Englishman to proceed. He smiled ; and for an 
 instant their eyes met, — an occurrence not without 
 its effect upon the susceptible maiden. 
 
 " And thou hadst the courage to set eyes on me!" 
 said Smith ; perceiving what she had been about to 
 say. 
 
 " It was curiosity. But thou wast under an armed 
 guard; else I had not. dared." 
 
 " And the lady Tragabigzanda was sadly disap- 
 pointed." 
 
 " Not sadly ; but — but — I was mistaken. So thy 
 sword was against the Turks." 
 
 " Not immediately. I had no patrons, and was 
 obliged to seek my fortune. Before landing in France, 
 I was plundered by fellow-passengers, who managed to 
 escape ; and was forced to sell my cloak to pay for my 
 passage. But a lad nineteen years of age, who carries 
 honesty in his face, does not fail, in distress, to secure 
 the sympathies and kind offices even of strangers. 
 Men and women of rank and wealth befriended me ; 
 and with them I might have recreated as long as I 
 would ; but I could not bear either indolence or de- 
 pendence. I betook myself, therefore, to wandering 
 again. My purse was soon empty. In an uninhab- 
 ited forest I was overcome with hunger and fatigue, 
 lost heart, — the only time, lady, — and threw myself 
 upon the ground to die." 
 
24 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " Poor youth ! how he must have suffered ! " mur- 
 mured the lady to herself. She might as well have 
 spoken aloud, for Smith read precisely the same words 
 in her face. 
 
 " But a kind-hearted farmer found me ; took me to 
 his house ; cheered me and nursed me ; and sent me 
 on my way with money. May God reward him ! " 
 
 " Charatza Tragabigzanda would, if she could," 
 exclaimed the lady with energy. 
 
 " Not long after, I accidentally met one of the party 
 who robbed me. We drew, and I brought him to the 
 ground. With the sword at his throat, I made him 
 confess his villany in presence of the by-standers ; but 
 this was all my satisfaction. 
 
 " I then reached Marseilles, in the South of France, 
 — you see it here, lady," — for by this time they were 
 studying geography together, — " whence I took to 
 the sea. The vessel was crowded with pilgrims on 
 their way to Rome, to whom I became an object of 
 hatred and persecution so soon as they knew that I 
 was an Englishman and a Protestant." 
 
 " A Protestant, — what is that ? " 
 
 " Your ladyship surely knows that he who is called 
 the Head of the Christian Church, or God's lieutenant 
 here, is the Pope of Rome." 
 
 " Certainly, — by Christians not of the Greek 
 Church." 
 
 u But many Christians, and almost all English- 
 men, acknowledge no Head of the Church but 
 Christ. That is, they protest against the author- 
 ity of the Pope ; and hence are called Protesters, 
 or Protestants. The Papal Christians have always 
 hated and persecuted the Protestants ; and my fellow- 
 
THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 25 
 
 passengers followed the example of their ancestors. 
 We were hardly at sea when we were driven into 
 Toulon by a storm, — it lies here, lady, a little farther 
 east. We again had bad weather after putting out 
 from Toulon ; which the Papists attributed to the dis- 
 pleasure of God toward a vessel so wicked as to carry 
 a Protestant. They piously concluded, therefore, that 
 they should never have fair weather while I was on 
 board. So, being a hundred to one, they tossed me 
 into the sea." 
 
 " Allah ! what barbarians ! Now I see — now I see 
 why I had such horrid ideas of Christians. They of 
 whom I had heard must have been Papists. But I 
 see thou wast not drowned." 
 
 " No, lady ; I swam until I reached a little island 
 called St. Mary. It is not laid down on this map, 
 but its place is here, — off the harbor of Nice." 
 
 " And there found hospitality ? " 
 
 " Such as kine and goats could give, and not unac- 
 ceptable to a hungry lad." 
 
 " No people ! " 
 
 " Not even an herdsman." 
 
 " But thou couldst not swim to the main, surely ? " 
 
 " Possibly. But the next day I was taken off by a 
 French ship on her way to Alexandria." 
 
 " But her crew, — were not they Papists ? and would 
 not they drown a Protestant ? " 
 
 " They were Papists, lady ; but the captain was 
 neighbor and friend of a French Earl who had re- 
 ceived me as his guest. For the nobleman's sake, 
 he befriended me. Besides, we had no more storm. 
 For both reasons the Protestant was spared." 
 
 " Surely thou must be beloved of Allah, that he 
 
26 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 hath saved thee from such perils, and raised to thee 
 friends in such straits." 
 
 " God is often kind to those who are not good ; or, 
 as our holy book says, he maketh his sun to shine 
 upon the evil and upon the good, and sendeth his rain 
 upon the just and upon the unjust." 
 
 " Good ; but he does not save and befriend the 
 wicked." 
 
 " Lady, I do not profess to be good ; nor do I pro- 
 fess to be wicked. But surely God hath befriended 
 me. My being thrown into the sea was the last of 
 my misfortunes, until I fell in the valley of the Altus ; 
 if, indeed, I should call that a misfortune which hath 
 made me thy servant." 
 
 O Smith ! Smith ! Where was thy prudence ? The 
 color tinged the lady's cheek ; yet the eye did not 
 droop. This, and her quick reply, — u Thou mayst 
 not find it a misfortune," — showed that her sensation 
 was anything but unpleasant. 
 
 " Now, then, tell me of thy prosperous days." 
 
 " On our return from Alexandria we cruised for 
 a while here, — along the eastern and northeastern 
 shores. On our way we hailed a Venetian argosy, 
 who returned our compliment with a broadside. Of 
 course we must fight. We captured her, and she 
 proved a rich prize. My portion of the spoils was 
 sufficient for my purpose of travel ; and at my own 
 request I was set on shore in Piedmont. Thence I 
 made the tour of Italy, to satisfy my eye with fair 
 places and the kingdom's nobility. At Venice I re- 
 sumed my original purpose of joining the armies of 
 Germany in the war against the Turks, and imme- 
 diately proceeded to Gratz, in Styria, the residence of 
 
THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 27 
 
 the Archduke of Austria. There I met with some of 
 my countrymen, who introduced me to several officers 
 of the Imperial army. I told them my wishes, and 
 was immediately placed upon the staff of one of 
 them, — the Earl of Meldritch, — who was a colonel 
 of cavalry. One of our generals, Lord Ebersbaught, 
 was soon after closely besieged in Olympach, and in 
 imminent danger. A body of soldiery — ten thou- 
 sand — was sent for his relief; of which I was one. 
 But our numbers were so few, and the besiegers 
 so strong, that we could effect nothing unless by 
 concert with our friends in the city. We could not 
 send a messenger, and how could we effect a commu- 
 nication? In this dilemma, I told our commander 
 that I had previously stated to Lord Ebersbaught a 
 system of telegraphing which would be useful in 
 such an emergency. I was immediately directed to 
 employ it. My signals were seen, understood, and 
 answered ; and by this means a sally was made by 
 our friends at midnight, in concert with an attack by 
 us. The Turks were thrown into confusion, and we 
 relieved our friends by adding two thousand picked 
 men to their garrison. This discouraged your coun- 
 trymen, and they abandoned the siege. As a reward, 
 I took my first step as an officer, with the command 
 of two hundred and fifty cavalry." 
 
 " All Constantinople heard of that disgraceful re- 
 treat," interrupted the lady with indignation ; " and 
 thou wast the means of our disgrace ? " 
 
 " Thou didst ask for the truth, fair lady. Should I 
 lie, like the Bashaw of Bulgaria ? " 
 
 A bland reproach, the lightest touch upon a rank- 
 ling wound, and the least savor of flattery, — each the 
 
28 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 more pungent for the lady's growing tenderness, — 
 what woman could hold her displeasure ? 
 
 " Rather slay a thousand Turks than be a dog like 
 him." 
 
 " But, lady, we slew four thousand." 
 
 " Well ; four thousand, then. Proceed." 
 
 " Our army then had a season of rest in winter 
 quarters." 
 
 " Poor man ! idleness thou couldst not bear, thou 
 sayest." 
 
 " I was never idle, lady, but upon compulsion." 
 
 " What, pray, but idleness in soldiers' barracks ? 
 Amusement ? Pleasure ? The Christian's shame, — 
 strong drink ? " 
 
 " Rather than take quietly the sneer of a fair lady, 
 I will say that I devoted my respite from active ser- 
 vice to amusement and pleasure ; but not to strong 
 drink, the damnable invention of an Arabian Mos- 
 lem." 
 
 " But forbidden by the Prophet, whose name be 
 blessed ! But pleasure and amusement sit at the gate 
 of idleness." 
 
 " My amusement is study, my pleasure the acqui- 
 sition of knowledge." 
 
 16 What study ? what knowledge ? " 
 
 " Of my profession, lady ; — the manoeuvres of ar- 
 mies ; the combination of forces ; the planning of an 
 action by which ten thousand men may route twenty 
 thousand ; the art of skilful retreat, one of the greatest 
 achievements of war ; the structure, defence, and 
 storming of fortifications ; the study of an enemy's 
 tactics and defences ; and any other art, science, 
 strategy, or even handicraft, pertaining to war. Wax 
 
THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 29 
 
 is a science, lady ; not mere butchery. Many a man 
 who can fight well hand to hand is no warrior. Had 
 I not studied, we could not have saved Olympach." 
 
 " By Allah! was thy mother of the offspring of the 
 good Jinn ? * or of Suleyman Ibn Daood, whose power 
 over the Jinn was absolute ? f Thou seemest to crave 
 wisdom more than mortal ! " 
 
 " I confess my ignorance of such beings, lady. My 
 parents were of the English gentry. What thou 
 pleasest to call wisdom is little compared with that of 
 many of my countrymen." « 
 
 " Then the English must be sages born. By Allah ! 
 thou dost puzzle me again. You opened a new cam- 
 paign ? " 
 
 " Against the city of Alba Regalis, called impreg- 
 nable, in Lower Hungary." 
 
 u Which was wrested from the faithful after we 
 had held it sixty years, one of the splendid jewels of 
 our crown. Did Allah raise thee up to execute his 
 
 * "Jinn " or Genii are an imaginary race of beings created of smokeless 
 fire ; of a rank between angels, created of light, and men, created of earth. 
 They are supposed to be" aerial, with transparent bodies, which can as- 
 sume various forms and become invisible at pleasure. They are of two 
 classes, — the good and the evil. If good, they are generally resplend- 
 ently handsome ; if evil, horribly hideous. In the text, therefore, a per- 
 sonal compliment is insinuated. They eat and drink, and propagate 
 their species, sometimes in conjunction with human beings (compare 
 Gen. vi. 6), it/ which case the offspring partakes of the nature of both 
 parents. See Lane's Arabian Nights, Note 21 to the Introduction. 
 
 i " Solomon the son of David." He is said to have obtained absolute 
 power over the Jinn, by virtue of a talisman or seal-ring sent to him 
 from heaven, on which was engraved " the most great name " of God. 
 This was partly of brass and partly of iron. With the brass he stamped 
 his written commands to the good Jinn ; with the iron, those to the evil 
 Jinn, or devils. Solomon compelled them to aid in the building of the 
 temple of Jerusalem. Ibid. 
 3* 
 
30 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 judgments upon the Turks, — a knotted scourge for 
 the back of the Ottoman ? When the Bashaw of 
 Buda, then a prisoner at Vienna, heard of the loss of 
 Alba Regalis, he prostrated himself a whole day, with- 
 out food or drink, his face in the dust, praying to the 
 Prophet, who, as he said, had been all the year angry 
 with the Turks. By Allah! that year — that year 
 was the very and only year in which thou — thou hadst 
 served against us ! Yes, and thou didst take the city 
 by winged fire ! By Allah ! thou art of the race of 
 Jinn ! " 
 
 " Beautiful lady, thou dost forget my humble rank. 
 I was but a subaltern there." 
 
 " Who," demanded the lady with flushed face, — 
 " who invented those fiery flying balls, which made 
 havoc of lives and dwellings and merchandise ? Who 
 hurled them by night over the battlements, like hissing 
 meteors from the sky, into the very squares and public 
 places where the people did congregate the most? 
 Meldritch ? the Archduke Matthias ? the Archduke 
 Ferdinand ? the Duke Mercury ? Who ? " 
 
 Smith was silent, — at a loss how to meet the pa- 
 triotic wrath of the lady, through whose " compassion " 
 and youthful generosity he hoped to secure his free 
 dom. But, falling back upon his natural integrity and 
 ingenuousness, he met her eye calmly, and answered : 
 " He whom thou art pleased to call thy slave." 
 
 " I thought so. Fire and speed are vital properties 
 of the Jinn. Yoo-seef ! I should fear thee, did I not 
 know that the evil Jinn are of loathsome form and 
 visage, and the good fair and comely. But shall we 
 not all bow to the will of Allah ? Enough of Alba 
 Regalis. Thou didst then meet Hassan Bashaw and 
 
THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 31 
 
 his sixty thousand men, and routed him with thy 
 twenty thousand, and thy manoeuvres and combina- 
 tions and other magic which thou callest science." 
 
 " Not I, my lady : my general and our soldiers." 
 
 " And thyself." 
 
 " Little did I do but bleed." 
 
 " Wast wounded ? " exclaimed the maiden, with a 
 start. 
 
 " Severely, lady." 
 
 " Did not thy veins spout flame ? " * 
 
 " Blood, lady ; hot and steaming, to be sure, but as 
 pure blood as that of any mortal." 
 
 " The Jinn are mortal." 
 
 " As the blood of any man; for I perceive thou 
 speakest of what we call Genii, of which I have 
 read." 
 
 " Jinnee or no Jinnee,f thou art more than a com- 
 mon mortal, Yoo-seef! or my heart — my brain, I 
 mean — misleads me. What next, O son of the fire- 
 spirits ? " 
 
 " I was then sent, with eight thousand men, under 
 Count Meldritch, into Transylvania, to fight against 
 the native Prince Sigismund Bathor, who was assailed 
 at once by Turk and Christian. The Count was a 
 Transylvanian, and all his estates lay there. He owed 
 no allegiance to Germany ; and his officers and sol- 
 diers were mostly mercenaries, though veterans. He 
 would not fight against his own country, and joined 
 his forces to the fainting bands of Sigismund against 
 the Moslem." 
 
 * " The fire of which the Jinnee is created circulates in his veins, in 
 place of blood. Therefore, when he receives a mortal wound, this fire 
 issuing from his veins generally consumes him to ashes." — Lane. 
 
 t The singular of Jinn. 
 
32 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " And thou too ? " 
 
 " I owed no allegiance. I had before repented and 
 lamented to have seen so many Christians slaughter 
 one another ; and therefore would only try my fortune 
 against the Turks, who now occupied the very estates 
 of the Count." 
 
 " Ay, I know. The city of Regal, in the wild and 
 rocky mountains of Zarham. Gracious Allah ! by 
 what spirit, by what fate, have I, a timid girl, ignorant 
 and thoughtless of war, been led this past year to 
 watch and trace the war-path of an unknown man, 
 whom Destiny has now sent to me and to — But 
 what is written is written ; and is revealed only as it 
 cometh to pass. Regal, strong by nature, strong by 
 art, would have proved impregnable, had not Yoo-seef, 
 the "Whip of Destiny, been there ! Tell me the trage- 
 dy of the Lord Turbashaw, of Grualgo, of Bonny 
 Mulgro." 
 
 " Our forces were increased by nine thousand men, 
 under Prince Moyses, who took the chief command. 
 The city was accessible only on one side, through 
 ravines narrow, steep, and dangerous. Consequently 
 our approaches with artillery were step by step, and 
 every step in blood. After we had gained the table- 
 land of the mountain, our enemies laughed us to scorn 
 for what they called our sluggishness, for even then it 
 was nearly a month before we could complete our 
 trenches and plant our batteries. They told us that 
 we were too lazy ; that we were growing fat for want 
 of work, and their ladies weary for lack of some 
 knightly amusement. For their sakes — the Turkish 
 ladies' — the Lord Turbashaw proposed to meet any 
 captain of the Christian army in single combat, the 
 
THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 33 
 
 head of the vanquished and all he might carry to the 
 field to be the victor's. By this time our mettle was 
 well up, and so many claimed the honor that no elec- 
 tion could be made but by lot. It fell upon one of 
 some prowess, but no distinction. Great preparations 
 were made, and a truce agreed upon for the occasion. 
 At the time appointed, the Lord Turbashaw entered 
 the lists clad in splendid armor, brilliant with gold 
 and jewels, and attended by three Janizaries. The 
 Christian soon appeared, simply clad, followed by a 
 single page, who bore his lance. The ramparts were 
 thronged with ladies and armed men, and the Chris- 
 tians were drawn out in their most imposing battle- 
 array. The combatants passed each other, midway of 
 the lists, with courteous salute, and assumed their 
 proper stations. There was a moment's breathless 
 silence. The trumpet sounded. The knights met at 
 full speed. The Lord Turbashaw fell from his horse, 
 his brain pierced by the Christian's spear ; who, un- 
 harmed, and finding his adversary lifeless, appropriat- 
 ed his head and his rich accoutrements, and returned 
 the body to the city." 
 
 " And Grualgo ? " 
 
 " Was a bosom friend of the Lord Turbashaw, and 
 by repute a fierce and powerful warrior. To revenge 
 his death, he challenged the same officer on the next 
 day, proposing to stake his own head, besides his 
 horse and armor, for the chance of redeeming the head 
 of his friend. The challenge could not be refused. 
 The meeting was attended with the same pomp and 
 anxious suspense as the former. At the first onset, 
 their lances were shivered by the shock. The Turk 
 was nearly unhorsed, but the Christian sat firm in the 
 
34 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 saddle. They then had recourse to their fire-arms. 
 The Christian was slightly wounded, the Turk not 
 scathed. At the second shot his bridle-arm was shat- 
 tered, his horse became unmanageable, himself thrown 
 upon the ground, when his forfeited head, his horse 
 and armor, were secured as the trophies ; but the body, 
 with its rich apparel, neither of which was forfeited, 
 were sent back to the city." 
 
 " A fair combat and a gallant one. The third ? " 
 " The Christian might have been content, lady, had 
 he not been a hot-headed fellow and puffed up by 
 success. But he must tempt fortune needlessly. So, 
 obtaining leave from his general, he sent a message 
 into the city, saying that he feared the ladies had not 
 had amusement enough, and that he should be happy 
 to furnish more, provided any one could be found who 
 dared meet him in the lists. He would stake the 
 heads which he had won, and his own, on the issue. 
 Bonny Mulgro, a stout knight, accepted the challenge, 
 but prudently declined, as he had -the right to do, the 
 lance ; and selected the pistol, the battle-axe, and the 
 sword. In the use of the formidable battle-axe he 
 was particularly skilled. They met accordingly. The 
 pistols were harmless. Then came the battle-axe, to 
 which the Christian was but little accustomed. A 
 tremendous blow disarmed him of his axe, and nearly 
 felled him from his horse. A shout from the walls 
 roused the half-stunned man, so that he recovered him- 
 self in time to evade, by dexterous management of a 
 well-trained steed, the furious blows of his adversary. 
 He now drew his sword, and, by God's assistance, 
 ran it through the body of the Turk. Thus ended the 
 tragedy of which your ladyship inquired. It was 
 enough for all parties." 
 
THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 35 
 
 " A heroic Christian, and a valiant. Methinks the 
 Bashaw of Bulgaria would not have accepted his chal- 
 lenge. Ha ! what thinkest thou ? " 
 
 " I know nothing of him, but from thine own lips, 
 lady." 
 
 " But this gallant knight must have had a name." 
 
 " Your ladyship did not inquire." 
 
 u He was rather young, was he not ? " 
 
 " Not old." 
 
 " Had he not some foreign name, hard to a Turkish 
 lady's tongue, — something like Yoo-seef ? I have a 
 land of inner sense which whispers so ; and, on my 
 faith, I doubt there was but one Christian there could 
 have done or dared it. Have I not seen him ? " 
 
 " Most beautiful lady, thou hast drawn this tale 
 from me. I have obeyed to the letter of thy ques- 
 tions, save the last. Its true answer I perceive thou 
 hast divined." 
 
 " Thy reward ? " 
 
 " A pompous parade, a charger, a military belt of 
 value, and money, from our general. The rank of 
 major from the Count. Afterwards, Prince Sigis- 
 mund, visiting the camp, gave me his picture set in 
 gold, and pledged to me a pension of three hundred 
 ducats, and a patent of nobility." 
 
 " And you passed to other conquests after the sack 
 of Regal." 
 
 " We did, lady. But Sigismund, seeing his people 
 ruined by this double war, magnanimously preferred for 
 their sakes to yield his princedom to the Emperor, and 
 retired, as a private nobleman, upon a princely pension. 
 His armies then entered the service of the Emperor. 
 We were sent to Wallachia to aid the inhabitants 
 
36 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 against their Turkish ruler. We defeated the Turkish 
 army of forty thousand men, and the province came 
 under the rule of the Emperor. They again made head 
 in Moldavia. Meldritch, misinformed of their num- 
 bers, advanced with but thirteen thousand men to fight 
 forty-five thousand. By a new and frightful kind of 
 wild-fire, which — laugh as you will, lady — I invent- 
 ed, we scared the Turks and reduced their numbers 
 by five thousand, without loss to ourselves ; retreat- 
 ing, as soon as we discovered the strength of the ene- 
 my, to gain the fortified city of Rotterton, within 
 three leagues of which is the field on which I was left 
 for dead." 
 
 " Give me the particulars. I know nothing of them, 
 except that the Lord Bashaw of Bulgaria was a hero 
 there." 
 
 Smith related the details of the slaughter, the issue 
 of which was sketched at the opening of our narra- 
 tive. 
 
 The conversation which we have given above was 
 not continuous, but had been resumed from time to 
 time as opportunity was contrived by the lady, whose 
 romantic interest increased with every day's recital, 
 and with her own observation of her captive's court- 
 ly phrase and noble deportment. It is perhaps need- 
 less to state, that the grace and manliness of his per- 
 son, his frankness, modesty, and high-mindedness, had 
 completely taken captive the heart of a secluded, un- 
 sophisticated maiden, just waked to a sense of an 
 unknown want, and just stung by the wanton mean- 
 ness of a soulless wooer. Smith could not shut his 
 eyes to the fact ; neither, with all his regard for her 
 happiness, could he shut his eyes to his only hope of 
 freedom. 
 
THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 37 
 
 But these conversations did not end here. The 
 enamored maiden demanded their repetition, — the 
 minute filling up of the outline, — the answering of a 
 thousand questions. In short, she made her captive 
 the theme of all their interviews, the hero of every 
 scene which she led him to describe. Yet she was 
 timid and cautious ; at an early stage " feigning sick- 
 ness when she sought the society of her slave, that 
 she might discard other company." Alas, poor Fa- 
 tima ! 
 
 There was a jealous and watchful mother on the 
 premises, who knew full well the danger of proximity 
 and free conversation between a simple maiden and a 
 fascinating youth, even if he were a slave and an 
 infidel. The lady Tragabigzanda perceived that she 
 was spied, and took the alarm. For a while she 
 would heroically suspend their intimacy ; then, rest- 
 less and suffering, she would again command his 
 presence. At length, the swelling tide of her passion 
 surmounted even the barrier of virgin bashfulness. 
 Her confession was not made in words at first, but in 
 tears. Smith could not but pity her, whom he really 
 esteemed, and might have loved had she been Chris- 
 tian and English-born. He was grateful for her kind- 
 ness ; blamed, and yet justified himself in his heart; 
 and replied to her sobs with words of real respect and 
 tenderness, showing, but with a gentlemanly delicacy, 
 that he understood her emotions. At length she raised 
 her head, and repeated, in a tone of touching simplici- 
 ty and confidence, an extempore version, in Italian, of 
 an Arabic song. 
 
 " I wished for my beloved ; but when I beheld him 
 I was confounded, and possessed neither tongue nor 
 
 4 
 
38 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 eye. I hung down my head in honor and reverence ; 
 and would have hidden what I felt, but it would not 
 be concealed." 
 
 The English soldier was touched to the very soul 
 by an avowal, so delicate yet ingenuous, of a pure and 
 trustful love, — by an apology so true to nature for 
 her want of self-control. He could not conceal his 
 emotion, although he could give no passionate re- 
 sponse to hers ; for he knew the insurmountable bar- 
 riers of religion, country, and education. She gave 
 him, however, no time for words. Nerving herself 
 resolutely to the effort, she said, in a firm and decided 
 voice, " Yoo-seef ! thou must fly. My mother will 
 sell thee. I shall arrange it. To-morrow, — to-mor- 
 row. Leave me now, — leave me to deplore my weak- 
 ness." 
 
 " But gentle lady — " 
 
 " Nay, leave me ! " and, clapping her hands, there 
 was no alternative, as Fatima instantly answered the 
 summons. 
 
 " Thy slave is at thy feet," said the affectionate girl. 
 
 " Fatima ! thou lovest thy mistress ? " caressing her 
 gently. 
 
 The slave raised her lustrous eyes with a wonder- 
 ing, mournful expression. 
 
 " I know it, child ; I know it. Praise be to Allah, 
 how good it is to be loved ! Women were made for 
 it, girl. But to be mocked by an ape in sword-belt 
 and turban, — pshaw ! it passeth woman's meekness." 
 
 "Tell him to woo some wandering Ghool,* my 
 mistress." 
 
 * Properly speaking, the Ghool is the female demon of a lower order 
 
THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. 39 
 
 " Ha, girl! thou art shrewd. But thinkest thou he 
 could win her ? " 
 
 " By the help of Iblees,* perhaps." 
 
 " Perhaps, were he a man. Ghools do not content 
 themselves with things. But let us not disgrace our- 
 selves by talking of him. Give me coffee, child ; and 
 disrobe me. It is early, but I will seek my rest, for I 
 am aweary." 
 
 of the evil Jinn ; though the name is vulgarly applied to both sexes, the 
 male of which is called Kutrub. They feed alike upon human bodies, 
 freshly slain by themselves or obtained from the tomb, and assume a 
 human form at pleasure. The Ghool appears to men in the desert, and 
 suffers herself to be solicited by them. Lane. 
 * Satan ; the Devil ; the Prince of the evil Jinn. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SELF-EMANCIPATION. 
 
 The simple and melodious chants from the mina- 
 rets of the city, summoning the faithful to prayer, 
 roused the lady from her uneasy slumbers to the light 
 of a glorious morning, before the sun's rays had kissed 
 the waters of the Bosphorus, or even the tops of the 
 neighboring mountains.* 
 
 The mistress and slave saluted each other with 
 pious benedictions, and bowed side by side in prayer 
 to God.f The lady Charatza arose from her prostra- 
 tion, strengthened in her purpose. In her usual quiet 
 voice she said : " Fatima ! bid Ibn Ali saddle two of 
 my fleetest horses, prepared for a long journey, and to 
 be ready with all speed to start at a moment's warn- 
 ing. Then return." 
 
 The slave glided from the apartment, and quickly 
 
 * The time for morning prayer with the Mohammedans is " day- 
 break" ; or, " generally, on the first faint appearance of light in the east." 
 Lane's Modern Egyptians. 
 
 t " The Prophet did not forbid women to attend public prayers in a 
 mosque, but pronounced it better for them to pray in private. Formerly 
 women were permitted (and perhaps are still in some countries), but 
 were obliged to place themselves apart from the men, and behind them ; 
 because the Muslims are of opinion that the presence of females inspires 
 a different kind of devotion from that which is requisite in a place dedi- 
 cated to the worship of God." — Lane's Modem Egyptians, Part I. 
 Chap. III. 
 
SELF-EMANCIPATION. 41 
 
 re-appeared, but not before her mistress had thrice 
 ejaculated, " O Allah, pity me ! help me ! " 
 
 " Now, child, water and my robes. Blessed be He 
 who giveth water in abundance, and raiment that is 
 comely ! Should we not rejoice in purity and beauty ? " 
 
 The cheerful slave adroitly and proudly performed 
 her usual task, and attended her mistress to her com- 
 mon apartment. 
 
 " Now send to me Yoo-seef, and wait without." 
 
 She met his respectful salutation with an open but 
 dispassionate look, and said, in firm and unembar- 
 rassed tones : " Yoo-seef ! I have conquered weak- 
 ness. True love is no sin, and should bring no blush. 
 Nor is it selfish. The suffering of yesterday has 
 opened my eyes to the difficulties which hedge up 
 my — my — passion. I cannot recall, but I can 
 master it. Ay, I would crush it, and with it my 
 life, as I would — as — I — like that," — putting her 
 silken slipper on a stray insect, — " rather than thou 
 shouldst come to harm. Nay, no words ; hear me. 
 My resolve is taken, and in the name of Allah Most 
 High. Thou art a slave but in name. I am the 
 real one, and bow to destiny. The slave must suffer 
 for her lord. I accept the decree. Couldst thou re- 
 turn love for love, our lives would hang by a thread. 
 But more : if thy stay here is prolonged, thou wilt 
 surely be torn from me, and sold to a real slavery. I 
 anticipate the rupture, that I may prevent the doom. 
 Horses, and a faithful slave for thy guide, are in readi- 
 ness. The Bashaw of Nalbritz in Cambia, the near- 
 est province of Tartary, and on the shore of the Sea of 
 Azof, is my brother. In this " — putting in his hand 
 a letter — " I have commended thee to his protection 
 
 4# 
 
42 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 and kindness in the name of God. I have told him 
 that it is thy wish to acquire the habits and language 
 of the Turks. There remain until I am mistress of 
 my own person, which will be soon. From that 
 time, my destiny and thine are at thy disposal. If 
 you reject my virgin love, I bow. Seek thy country 
 and kinsfolk, and be happy. My love and prayer only 
 will follow thee, like spirits, silent and trackless. They 
 shall not harm nor annoy thee, Yoo-seef. Fare- 
 well." 
 
 " Gracious lady ! " said Smith, in a tumult of visible 
 emotion, " thy decision is noble, kind, and wise. I 
 obey it. Permit me to say that thine avowal I re- 
 spect, and shall cherish its remembrance with pride. 
 I have not been untouched by the loveliness of person 
 which — " 
 
 " Nay, my lo?'d, refrain. I have not sought to un- 
 lock thine heart. Nor do I : it is thine own sanctua- 
 ry. I am too young in my new resolve to bear its 
 disclosures, whether of good or ill to me. Yesterday 
 I was a girl ; to-day, a woman. I would remain so, 
 and unshaken ; but thy words are unsafe for me. 
 Thy moments, too, are more than life both to thee and 
 to me. Thy departure must be a flight. Let Ibn Ali 
 come to me for directions. The moment he returns 
 to you, mount and be off. Trust him, and use thy 
 spurs. Once more, my lord, farewell. May Allah 
 preserve thee! May the name of Allah encompass 
 thee ! May God let down the curtain of his protec- 
 tion over thee ! " 
 
 The grateful youth, touched by the serious pathos 
 of her emotion, bent upon his knee, and would have 
 taken her hand. She shrank ; but then extended it 
 
SELF-EMANCIPATION. 43 
 
 with a confiding frankness, saying : " Be it so this 
 once ; for the future, let God determine." 
 
 Kissing the fair and trembling hand, Smith said, in 
 an agitated voice : " Thanks, lady, thanks ! May the 
 captive's prayer bring thee God's blessing ! " — and 
 was gone. 
 
 The slave Ibn Ali received minute but rapid orders, 
 and the two were soon scouring the country north- 
 wards. 
 
 The lady had borne with stoic fortitude the severe 
 ordeal of the morning ; but when the scene was over, 
 and the necessity for self-control, she sank upon her 
 cushions in a flood of tears. The affectionate Fatima 
 — weeping because her mistress wept — strove with 
 all the arts of tenderness to soothe her. But the lady 
 seemed even unconscious of her presence, and utterly 
 abandoned to suffering. After an hour of convulsive 
 emotion, she sprang suddenly to her feet, fixed her 
 eye wildly upon the frightened slave, and said, with a 
 grave but frenzied utterance : — 
 
 " If Beauty should approach to be compared with 
 him, she would hang down her head in shame. 
 
 " Or if it were said, c O Beauty ! hast thou seen the 
 like ? ' she would answer, ' The equal of this have I 
 not seen.' 
 
 " Beholding his graceful form and lovely aspect, she 
 would exclaim, ' Extolled be the perfection of Him 
 who created thee, a temptation to all ! ' 
 
 " She would cease not to gaze at him, and say, 
 ' This is not a mortal : this is no other than a noble 
 angel' " * 
 
 * When Zeleekah, the wife of Potiphar, invited her female friends 
 that they might behold Yoo-seef (Joseph), and excuse her for inclining 
 
44 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Then looking fixedly, as if at some absorbing ob- 
 ject, she sank into a long and quiet swoon. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Timour, the Bashaw of Nalbritz, was enjoying his 
 afternoon repose in his " mandar'ah," or room of re- 
 ception, when Ibn Ali and Smith presented them- 
 selves before him. The latter wore a Turkish cos- 
 tume of respectable materials, and bore no insignia of 
 servitude. His person and address, as already signi- 
 fied, were those of a gentleman deserving of consid- 
 eration. 
 
 " The lady Tragabigzanda, my lord," said the slave, 
 according to his instructions, " hath sent me to con- 
 duct to thy presence this honorable traveller. She 
 adds her greetings and love." So saying, he retired. 
 
 The Bashaw, a man of prepossessing appearance, 
 received his guest with the indolent but stately cour- 
 tesy so peculiar to the Turk, and motioned him, with 
 the usual salutation, to a seat upon the divan. Smith 
 returned his salutation as well as he was able, for he 
 had striven diligently during his captivity to acquire 
 the Turkish language. 
 
 Water, coffee, and the chibook were introduced, ac- 
 cording to Turkish custom. These preliminary rites 
 of hospitality concluded, conversation was tolerably 
 sustained. Smith had already produced the letter of 
 the lady Charatza, which was retained unopened by 
 the ceremonious Turk. 
 
 After the expiration of an hour or more, during 
 
 unto him, at the sight of him they cut their hands, and praised God, 
 ejaculating these words : " This is not a mortal," &c. — Koran, ch. xii. 
 v. 31. 
 
SELF-EMANCIPATION. 45 
 
 which the host had taken an opportunity to read his 
 sister's letter, he proposed, with a shade more than his 
 previous gravity, that his guest should accompany 
 him to his plantation, where business required his 
 presence. Always ready for active motion, Smith 
 gladly acquiesced ; and they were soon galloping over 
 the ground, attended by half a score of armed slaves. 
 After riding about a league, they arrived at a farm- 
 house, at which they alighted. Scarcely had our 
 young officer touched foot upon the ground, when he 
 was suddenly pinioned and disarmed. Turning in 
 amazement to ask explanation, he found the cour- 
 teous Turk transformed into a Fury ; his eyes glared 
 with rage ; his whole countenance expressed intense 
 passion ; and, with violent gestures, he vociferated 
 alternately to his prisoner and his slaves. Such was 
 his volubility, that Smith could distinguish but few 
 words, — " Christian dog ! " " Carrion-vulture mate the 
 dove ! " and like phrases. But he plainly heard, for 
 the Bashaw then spoke with ominous deliberation, 
 " By Allah ! yes ; i" '// teach thee the Turkish tongue 
 and Turkish manners, too, son of perdition ! " 
 
 Smith had no opportunity to remonstrate, nor 
 power to resist. Exhausted by his fury, the tyrant 
 entered the house, when Smith was instantly stripped, 
 and reclad with a shirt of hair-cloth, over which were 
 drawn garments of undressed skins. His head and 
 face were then shaved " so bare as my hand," to quote 
 his own -words ; an iron collar was riveted upon his 
 neck ; and he was sent to the tasks of hard labor in 
 the field. He was a man of nerve and sound sense ; 
 he therefore yielded at once, and without despair, to 
 his hard and sudden fate. But his thoughts flew to 
 
46 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Constantinople ; to his gentle captivity there ; and to 
 his lovely, noble-minded mistress. Not for a mo- 
 ment, however, did he indulge the suspicion that she 
 might be privy to his wrong. 
 
 Until the Bashaw had read his sister's letter, he had 
 not dreamed that Smith was her slave. But, in all 
 guileless simplicity and sisterly trust, she had revealed 
 that she was the mistress of his person, and even that 
 he was the master of her heart. These disclosures — 
 respecting a detestable Christian, too — were more 
 than enough to overcome that very pliant and vapory 
 virtue called brotherly sympathy or affection. His 
 rage was terrific ; how it was cooled, the sequel will 
 show. He returned to his home without again vexing 
 his soul by a sight of his victim. 
 
 It is not necessary" to journalize the bitter allotments 
 of our hero ; a few facts are sufficient. He was but 
 one among hundreds of slaves, and, being the last- 
 comer, was the slave of his predecessors ; yet, to 
 quote him again, " there was no great choice, for the 
 best was so bad that a dog could hardly have lived 
 to endure." But John Smith was not the man to 
 sink amid billows. For a time he anticipated that 
 the lady Charatza might dissolve his bonds. But the 
 conviction was soon forced upon him, that the malice 
 of his tyrant had effectually prevented her interference. 
 Finding that some of his fellow-slaves were Chris- 
 tians, he urged them to concert measures for freedom ; 
 but their spirits had been hopelessly broken. In bitter- 
 ness and abjectness of soul, they only longed for the 
 last, the fatal drop in the cup of their misery. 
 
 No taunts, insults, or cruelties could glut the malice 
 of the Bashaw. With his own tongue, and hands, 
 
SELF-EMANCIPATION. 47 
 
 and feet, with whip and cudgel, he belabored the 
 young officer whenever he found him at his tasks. 
 Smith bore all with magnanimity, and with as much 
 show of heroism as he could ; for the tyrant was al- 
 ways well armed and accompanied. But there is 
 a point beyond which the best protected tyrant is 
 unsafe ; a last drop which makes the cup of endur- 
 ance overflow ; a last pound which breaks the camel's 
 back. 
 
 Smith had not bated a particle of his soldierly dar- 
 ing ; it was only held in masterly check by his good 
 sense. He could endure in passive silence, when his 
 judgment told him that resistance or resentment would 
 be unavailing or worse. He now waited his time. It 
 came. Upon a certain day, his tormentor was indulg- 
 ing in his usual cruelties, in a remote threshing-floor 
 where Smith was at work. It was his last hour of 
 grace. The young soldier's blood was up. Like the 
 Hebrew deliverer, " he looked this way and that way, 
 and when he saw that there was no man," he felled 
 the brute with his flail, dashed out his brains, and hid 
 him in the straw. Quickly clothing himself in the 
 rich garments of the Turk, and securing in a bag a 
 quantity of grain, he leaped upon the tyrant's horse, 
 and dashed away at random. 
 
 But the iron ring upon his neck was a badge fatal 
 to his escape if observed. It was his first necessity, 
 therefore, to shun every one. Three days he strag- 
 gled without a clew to his proper course, — startled 
 by every sound or sight which to his apprehensive 
 mind betokened the approach of a human being. He 
 had begun to despair, when suddenly he found him- 
 self on a way-side before a Christian cross, — the mute 
 
48 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 but inspiring emblem of " deliverance to the captives." 
 To him it was doubly an object of joy, — as a relig- 
 ious monument it quickened his drooping confidence 
 in God, and it was a sure guide to a city of refuge. 
 It was a mark, common in that part of the world, to 
 indicate the route to a Christian country. Smith 
 knew this, and of course how to direct his course. 
 
 At the end of sixteen days he arrived safely at 
 Ecopolis, a garrison of the Russians on the river 
 Don. Here his badge of slavery was a passport to 
 protection, hospitality, and every lavish charity which 
 Christians on the frontier, and themselves constantly 
 exposed to captivity, could bestow. To use his own 
 words, " he thought himself new risen from death," 
 so kindly was he treated. Under an escort, he took 
 his way to Transylvania, where he " was glutted with 
 content and neere drowned with joy," in the welcome 
 and embraces of Meldritch and his surviving compan- 
 ions in arms, by whom more than a year he had been 
 numbered with the dead. This was in December, 
 1603. Here Prince Sigismund confirmed by a di- 
 ploma, dated December 9th, the title of nobility which 
 he had previously conferred upon him, and gave him 
 a purse of fifteen hundred ducats to repair his losses.* 
 
 From these kindest of friends he tore himself away, 
 only for his longing " to see and rejoyce himselfe 
 (after all these encounters) in his own sweete coun- 
 trye." 
 
 * Simms, 86. Hillard, 203; where 15 ducats is doubtless a typo- 
 graphical error for 1500 ducats. Smith's patent of nobility was admitted 
 and recorded in the Heralds' College in England, August 19th, 1625. 
 His coat of arms was a shield bearing " the figure and description of 
 three Turks' heads," with the motto, Vincere est vivere. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE PIONEERS. 
 
 On the 26th day of April, 1607, three vessels bear- 
 ing the flag of England — the largest not exceeding 
 one hundred tons burden — were making their way 
 into the capacious mouth of the " Mother of Waters," 
 the Chesapeake. They had just weathered, under 
 bare poles, a violent gale from the south ; and though 
 they now carried light sail, they yet labored in a sea 
 fretting in resentment of the storm. At daylight, the 
 southern headland of the bay, Cape Henry, had ap- 
 peared in sight ; so named by those on board, in 
 honor of the Prince of Wales. 
 
 A magnificent forest enwrapped the virgin bosom 
 of the country, veiling her charms in a boundless 
 mantle of verdure. With its alternate elevations 
 and depressions, it seemed like a vast sea of foliage, 
 but without wrath and without fluctuation. Every- 
 thing within the circuit of the landscape was placid 
 and teeming beneath the vernal sun, and seemed 
 waiting to welcome the strangers with anthems of 
 praise to God. Yet there were lurking foes there, in 
 the dark and silent thicket. The seeds of transgres- 
 sion, and the consequent edict of the Almighty, had 
 reached this seeming Paradise long before, and a new 
 generation of woes lay enwombed there, ripe for the 
 birth. The new-comers, reckless as most of them 
 5 
 
50 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 were of God's glory in the works of his hands, gazed 
 with silent and subdued admiration upon such en- 
 chanting beauty and voiceless grandeur. More than 
 twenty years before (1584), this yet undefined Vir- 
 ginia had been discovered and skirted by British 
 ships, and settlements had been attempted ; but none 
 now approaching its shores had beheld them before. 
 
 Their anchors were soon dropped within the cape, 
 and a boat was sent ashore with thirty men. A hand- 
 ful of skulking natives attacked them, — an omen of 
 the future, — but were easily put to flight by fire-arms. 
 On the other hand, Nature gave them a welcome full 
 of promise. As she had just arrayed herself in her 
 best robes, and put on her floral adornments, she 
 received them with smiles in her groves of goodly 
 cedar and cypress. She wooed them with her fra- 
 grant odors and freshest flowers. She guided them 
 to a secluded glade, — a little banquet-room, carpeted 
 with living green, dappled and scented with straw- 
 berries four times larger than they had ever seen. And 
 then she led them to her clear, shallow streams, with 
 their bottoms paved with oysters, and showed them 
 the pearls which she had shaped and treasured there. 
 
 One of the party was George Percy, brother of the 
 Earl of Northumberland, who has left us an account 
 of this reception. There was Bartholomew Gosnold, 
 too, the projector of the present enterprise, and who 
 five years before had explored the coast from Mas- 
 sachusetts Bay to Martha's Vineyard. Christopher 
 Newport, to whom had been intrusted the command 
 of the little squadron, was also of the party. They 
 returned on board elated by what they had seen. 
 
 In the evening Captain Newport assembled the 
 
THE PIONEERS. 51 
 
 principal men of the expedition in the cabin of his 
 vessel. A small sealed casket lay upon the table be- 
 fore him, evidently an object of special interest to all 
 present. He addressed them in substance as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 " Gentlemen, we have reason to congratulate our- 
 selves that we did not yield to the despondency of a 
 few days since, and shape our course back to Eng- 
 land. After a voyage of more than eighteen weeks, 
 although we have failed to find the island of Roanoke, 
 we have every prospect of effecting a speedy and pros- 
 perous settlement. The time has now come, desig- 
 nated by his Majesty for opening the royal instruc- 
 tions, and ascertaining the names of those in whom 
 our colonial government is vested." 
 
 With much solemnity the seal of the casket was 
 broken, and it was found that the Council to whom 
 the government was intrusted were Edward Maria 
 Wingfield, Bartholomew Gosnold, John Smith, Chris- 
 topher Newport, John Radcliffe, John Martin, and 
 George Kendall. 
 
 There was a man on board in confinement and 
 bonds. He had been kept so during thirteen weeks. 
 This was Captain John Smith, who, after parting 
 from his friends in Transylvania, and sharing in a 
 protracted and desperate sea-fight, had arrived in 
 England in 1604, formed an intimacy with Gosnold, 
 a kindred spirit, and embarked with him and one 
 hundred and three others to plant an English settle- 
 ment in the very uncertain territory then called Vir- 
 ginia.* On the voyage dissensions and jealousies had 
 
 * These emigrants went out under " The London Company," an as- 
 
52 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 arisen, — to us involved in some mystery. Most of 
 the adventurers were men of desperate fortunes and 
 petty ambition. The superiority of Smith as a man 
 of energy and daring was not only a matter of fame, 
 but was unequivocally indicated in his person. Prob- 
 ably jealousy of his ability had rendered him ob- 
 noxious to the more aspiring and conceited among 
 the colonists ; for his high reputation and frank, 
 manly bearing had made him a favorite with the 
 majority. Be this as it may, but about five weeks 
 of their voyage, by the old route of the Canaries and 
 West Indies, had elapsed, when he was put in con- 
 finement on the absurd charge of having arranged a 
 
 sociation chartered by the king, and having no other aim than mercan- 
 tile profit. 
 
 The charter gave to the Company exclusive right to occupy, plant, 
 and trade between the thirty-fourth and thirty-eighth parallels of north 
 latitude. 
 
 The general control of their affairs was in the hands of a Superior 
 Council in England, members of the Company, but appointed and re- 
 movable by the king. 
 
 The internal administration of the colony Avas in a Colonial Council, 
 resident there, but to be elected or removed by the king, and at all 
 times and in all respects to be themselves governed as the royal caprice 
 might dictate. They were to elect from their own number their Presi- 
 dent or thief magistrate, and might depose him, and also fill their own 
 vacancies. They might make any laws not touching life or limb, and, 
 upon conviction by jury, might punish certain specified crimes by death. 
 
 The crown was to receive certain proportions of all gold, silver, and 
 copper which the country might yield. 
 
 Thus the emigrants themselves — while in the colony — had no voice 
 or influence in the government. They were merely the machinery of 
 the Company, dependent upon its providence and pleasure, and open to 
 its oppression. 
 
 The magnificent whim of concealing in a sealed box the name of the 
 Colonial Council until the expedition should arrive in Virginia left the 
 emigrants, in the interim, without an authorized head. Hence, natu- 
 rally, their dissensions on the voyage. 
 
THE PIONEERS. 53 
 
 conspiracy "to murder the Council, usurp the gov- 
 ernment, and make himself king of Virginia." In 
 this condition he had continued up to the present 
 time. 
 
 Seventeen days were now occupied in exploring 
 the neighborhood, during which time they received 
 welcome and bounteous hospitalities from two small 
 tribes of the natives, and smoked the pipe of peace 
 with their chiefs. At length, having ascended the 
 river Powhattan, — by them named James River, — 
 they selected the site of their residence on its north 
 side, and about fifty miles from its mouth. It was 
 on the 13th of May that they first " lifted up axes 
 upon the thick trees," and called their embryo city 
 Jamestown, in honor of their monarch. 
 
 The suffrages of the Council were now given for 
 their President, and Wingfield was elected. Smith 
 was excluded from their body, on the ground of the 
 charges already mentioned. But as every strong arm 
 was needed to prosecute indispensable labor, he was 
 released from his bonds. With true magnanimity, 
 he entered into the spirit of the enterprise, and shared 
 its toils, proudly silent about his wrongs. 
 
 The colonists, for the most part, were little adapted 
 to the arduous work of pioneer settlers of a wilder- 
 ness. Out of one hundred and five — their whole 
 number — there were only twelve laborers and a few 
 mechanics. The rest were styled " gentlemen," i. e. 
 men unaccustomed to labor, " of dissolute habits," 
 adventurers, hoping for some chance to repair wasted 
 fortunes, and " some few of the greatest ranke little 
 better than atheists." Notwithstanding, the beauti- 
 ful peninsula — an island at high tide — which they 
 
54 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 had chosen for their home was for the present a scene 
 of bustling activity. The sound of the axe, the ham- 
 mer, and the saw, the falling of trees, and the shouts 
 of excited men, broke up the old silence of nature ; 
 and the sun looked boldly down upon a soil hitherto 
 veiled in shadows. Tents and cabins were erected ; 
 apparatus for snaring fish and game was constructed ; 
 spots were laid out for gardens ; clapboards were 
 wrought for the lading of the vessels ; and a fort 
 was planned. But Wingfield forbade the erection 
 of defensive works, other than a barrier of boughs, — 
 fit fuel for an Indian firebrand. When these prepara- 
 tory works had tolerably advanced, Captain Newport, 
 Captain Smith, and twenty others, were ordered to 
 explore the river above.* 
 
 About one hundred miles above the seedling city 
 was an elevated opening in the forest, with the river — 
 about half a mile in width — flowing at its base on the 
 south. To this point the tide brought up the waters 
 of the sea. Above, for the distance of six miles, the 
 river was a succession of rapids or cascades ; and in 
 front of the unwooded spot which we have designated, 
 it was studded with luxuriant islands. Upon the 
 rear margin of this natural glade, and half shaded 
 by the forest, stood a dozen native huts at irregular 
 intervals. One of these, somewhat distinguished by 
 
 * The London Company ordered the colonists to seek a passage 
 through the interior to the South Seas, i. e. the East Indies. Tliey 
 •svere to do this by exploring every considerable stream flowing from the 
 west or northwest. A roguish Indian in 1586 had told the English 
 wondrous tales of gold at the head-waters of the Roanoke Eiver, and 
 that its source was so near the western ocean that the salt water would 
 sometimes dash over into the clear fountains of the stream. These fables 
 still influenced the London Company. 
 
THE PIONEERS. 55 
 
 its form and materials, was the dwelling of the Indian 
 chief Powhattan. He was lord of all the country be- 
 tween this river, including its southern branches, and 
 the Potomac, and from the sea to the falls of the 
 principal rivers. Of some of the tribes within this 
 circuit he was chief by birth ; of others, by conquest. 
 Over all of them — some thirty in number — he main- 
 tained absolute authority. His regality, rough-hewn 
 as it was, was substantial ; and his nobility, though 
 not blazoned on parchment, was real, because intel- 
 lectual. He had achieved dominion over other minds 
 which had been born to rule ; and he still held it, a 
 chief of chiefs, by means of his natural greatness. 
 
 Powhattan was pacing the turf before the entrance 
 of his lodge, absorbed in thought. Nothing in his 
 personal equipment indicated warlike intentions ; yet 
 his noiseless tread, his deliberate movement, and, 
 occasionally, a listening attitude, betrayed that he 
 was on the alert. He seemed to be alone ; but there 
 were keen eyes and strong arms at hand, jealous for 
 his safety. He knew that white men had entered his 
 domain and were hewing down his forest. His sa- 
 gacity and jealousy were roused ; and, as he thought 
 of the future, he frowned. While listening to the 
 sound of the Rapids, his eye was occasionally di- 
 rected, with a look of expectation, along the stream 
 below. Suddenly he stopped, the snapping of a twig 
 in the forest caught his ear, and the next instant a 
 young Indian bounded across the glade and stood, 
 panting and silent, before him. Without changing 
 his posture or aspect, the chief quietly demanded : 
 " Has the Young Deer snuffed the scent of the pan- 
 ther ? " 
 
56 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " The canoe of the white man rests upon the bank. 
 He is coming through the forest to do reverence to 
 Powhattan." 
 
 A grim, sarcastic movement flitted upon the fea- 
 tures of the chief as he replied : " It is well ; we will 
 receive him." 
 
 He had hardly spoken when there glided from 
 among the trees, and from various directions, one 
 swarthy form after another, until no less than forty 
 armed and stalwart warriors, roused by the footstep 
 of the runner, were ranged beside their prince ; while 
 others stood aloof, partly concealed in the edge of the 
 forest. The first were his body-guard, always in 
 attendance ; the others his more humble subjects. 
 
 In a short time Newport and Smith came in sight, 
 preceded by an Indian guide, and attended by a dozen 
 of their own men well armed. It was the sixth day 
 of their excursion. Powhattan advanced a few steps 
 upon the greensward, and awaited in silent dignity 
 their approach. Whatever may have been his sensa- 
 tions and misgivings as he saw the glittering weapons 
 and strange array of his visitors, it was with no small 
 admiration that they beheld this primitive lord of the 
 soil. Tall, muscular, erect, of a stern countenance, 
 his eye brilliant and piercing, his straight black hair 
 slightly frosted by the winters of sixty years, and his 
 frame of faultless proportions, he stood before them 
 almost in a state of nature, but with a majestic and 
 haughty port which showed them at a glance that he 
 was born to be obeyed. 
 
 He received his visitors with dignified courtesy and 
 kindness, conducted them to his dwelling, and per- 
 formed all the ceremonials of hospitality with princely 
 
THE PIONEERS. 57 
 
 grace and cordiality. Signs were necessarily substi- 
 tuted for words ; yet that both visit and reception 
 were in token of friendship and respect, was suffi- 
 ciently understood. The monarch of the woods 
 spread before his guests a bounteous repast of hom- 
 iny, game, fish, strawberries, mulberries, &c. ; and the 
 pipe of peace was smoked. The strangers distributed 
 little bells, beads, pins, and other trinkets, which were 
 valued by the grave warriors above price. Captain 
 Newport presented a hatchet to Powhattan, which he 
 gratefully accepted, instantly comprehending its prac- 
 tical value. The interview was necessarily short, and 
 was terminated with every sign of mutual deference 
 and good-will. 
 
 In natural genius, in far-sighted penetration, and in 
 all the characteristics of an untutored warrior, Pow- 
 hattan strongly resembled the unfortunate Caonabo, 
 the Hispaniolan prince, the captive of Columbus. 
 Like him, he foresaw evil to his people from the 
 coming of the strangers, and knew that it must be 
 crushed in the bud if at all ; but, unlike him, he saw 
 that in such an enterprise he could not hope to suc- 
 ceed by bold and open contest, and from the first he 
 adopted the policy of craft and hypocrisy. He there- 
 fore disguised his real enmity, and even to his own 
 warriors, who murmurred at the intrusion of the 
 strangers, he coolly said, " They want but a little 
 land.'' 
 
 " A very friendly set, after all," said Newport, when 
 they had at length arrived within twenty miles of 
 Jamestown. li Civil, hospitable, kind, from the first 
 day to this ; from Jamestown to the falls ; from strip- 
 ling to king. Yet I should not like to ramble among 
 
58 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the infernal-looking fellows without sword and fire- 
 lock." 
 
 " Very friendly and very infernal," replied Smith 
 coolly. 
 
 " Ha ! what do you mean ? " for there was more 
 significance in Smith's tone than in his words. 
 
 " I did but echo your own words, Captain New- 
 port." 
 
 " True ; but — but have you seen anything amiss ? 
 Captain Smith, you have been among devils before, 
 and know something of their ways. Have you seen 
 anything suspicious ? " 
 
 " Enough, all along our route, and enough but just 
 now." 
 
 « What ? " 
 
 " Straws." 
 
 " Straws ! " 
 
 " Trifles show the wind, Captain Newport." 
 
 The commander manifested some chagrin at Smith's 
 evident reserve, though he forbore further questioning. 
 He had never lost the terrific impression made upon 
 his mind, when, about thirty miles above Jamestown, 
 they had suddenly found " all the woods round about 
 filled with begrimmed savages shouting, yelling, and 
 crying as so many spirits in hell could not have 
 showed more terrible." Though they had offered no 
 harm, and though the conduct of all with whom the 
 travellers had come in contact had exceeded in kind- 
 ness, yet the remembrance of the first alarm clung to 
 Newport like his shadow. 
 
 Smith, perceiving that he was growing uncomforta- 
 bly nervous, soon said to him aside : " Captain New- 
 port, I have no disposition to conceal from you what 
 
THE PIONEERS. 59 
 
 I mean ; but it would be unwise to disturb our men. 
 I think we had better hasten to Jamestown. The 
 Indians are not as friendly as they seem." 
 " But I ask again, what have you seen ? " 
 " "Wherever we have landed, through all their feast- 
 ing and merry-making, they have watched us-with less 
 of curiosity than of jealousy and hatred. Tall fellows, 
 with sharp eyes and scowling brows, have held sly 
 conference about us in the bushes, and have sent off 
 runners at various points, while others have been 
 entertaining us. Powhattan's attendants bear us 
 malice ; and in the chief himself I could detect 
 signs of a feeling no better. He thinks he has duped 
 us, and means to play his game until we English are 
 all off our guard, and he can strike to purpose. Thus 
 I read him and his people." 
 
 " But what did you see at his dwelling ? " 
 " Men's faces, Captain Newport, that is all. But 
 in men's faces are words. They can be seen and 
 read ; but he who reads cannot repeat them in any 
 language under heaven." 
 
 " I confess I saw none of these things." 
 
 " Nothing when we set up the cross ? 
 
 ? » 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Captain Newport, I have great reverence for the 
 cross ; not because it is a cross, but because it tells 
 me of the One Crucified and his redemption. In 
 the wilderness especially, it is a very dear object to 
 me, for it once raised me from despair and guided me 
 to deliverance in the steppes of Tartary. But I do 
 not like to see it here. It does no good, and excites 
 in the Indians surmises of evil." 
 
 " The fellows do not know its meaning." 
 
60 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " And therefore regard it with suspicion, Captain 
 Newport. I saw many evil looks when it was raised, 
 and am much mistaken if the fact was not reported 
 to Powhattan within half an hour, and with very bad 
 comments." 
 
 " You spoke of hastening our return. Do you 
 expect an attack ? " 
 
 " It is not improbable ; yet arrows are playthings 
 against corselets and fire-arms. That something is in 
 the wind, I am confident. I fear for our friends at 
 Jamestown." 
 
 " But they have armor and arms as well as we." 
 
 " Where ? In the men's hands ? By their sides ? 
 No ; in the custody of our President, for reasons of 
 his own." 
 
 After musing a while, Newport exclaimed : " So be 
 it ; for home then, and at once " ; and their boat did 
 not touch the shore until at the settlement. 
 
 Smith's sagacity was not at fault. On his arrival 
 he found seventeen of the colonists in the hands of 
 the surgeons, and one of the two lads who belonged 
 to the expedition in his grave. They had been at- 
 tacked by stealth, when dispersed, unsuspicious, and 
 without arms, by apparently four hundred Indians. 
 The issue would doubtless have been the destruction 
 of the whole, had not a shot from one of the vessels 
 crashing through the trees so frightened the savages 
 that they fled. 
 
 The President's eyes were opened. The projected 
 fort was now properly constructed, and furnished with 
 cannon, arms were put into the hands of the men, and 
 regular military exercises were established. It was 
 well. The savages, finding that the thunderbolts of 
 
THE PIONEERS. 61 
 
 the whites did not follow them, soon resumed then- 
 attacks. " Wearisome days and nights were now ap- 
 pointed unto " the colonists. No one dared to stray- 
 beyond the protection of the garrison. They wrought 
 at their labor with a guard. They slept uneasily, 
 although surrounded by sentries. 
 
 ***** 
 
 " I stand upon my rights as an Englishman, and 
 demand a trial." 
 
 Such were the words of Smith as he stood before 
 the Council, and was told by the President to return 
 to England with Newport, and receive judgment from 
 the Superior Council, to whom his case would be 
 referred. 
 
 Wingfield was disconcerted by the demand, but 
 replied, with tolerable composure : " We would spare 
 you the risk, Captain Smith." 
 
 " Spare me ! From what risk ? I ask no favor, 
 sir." 
 
 " From the risk of blasting your reputation and 
 forfeiting your life." 
 
 " My reputation is in the keeping of mine integrity, 
 and my life is nothing without both. I demand a 
 public trial, — here, where the witnesses are, and not 
 where they are not." 
 
 " We should be sorry to produce proofs which 
 should convict you of treason." 
 
 " Let the Council produce them. A traitor should 
 be hung, not shielded. You have excluded me from 
 your body, for which I care not a groat. But I will 
 not be re-consigned to a parcel of merchants, like a 
 bale of bad goods." 
 
 Wingfield, himself a wealthy merchant, who had 
 
62 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 joined the expedition from the most sordid motives, 
 replied sharply, " We shall act our own pleasure in 
 your case, Captain Smith"; and instantly adjourned 
 the Council. He had been Smith's first and chief 
 accuser, and had reasons of his own for preventing an 
 open trial. 
 
 The proposition of the President was soon known 
 to all the colonists, and produced no small commo- 
 tion. His honest zeal in their enterprise, the proud 
 equanimity with which he had borne confinement, 
 the noble spirit with which he had labored since his 
 release, as well as the knowledge of his previous 
 history, had secured to Smith not only the respect, 
 but the admiration, and even affection, of nearly all 
 the colonists. He now used no arts to excite their 
 sympathy, but contented himself with simply saying, 
 " I have demanded a trial." 
 
 " The fellow is insolent and dangerous," said 
 "Wingfield at the re-assembling of the Council. " A 
 trial makes it possible that he may remain, in which 
 case he will prove a sorry mischief-maker. In Eng- 
 land he would be out of the way." 
 
 " Let him have a fair and open trial," said Gosnold. 
 " It is his right. For myself, I differ from our Presi- 
 dent ; my convictions force me to. The man is hon- 
 orable. Conspiracy is beneath him. If he would do 
 mischief, he would do it openly, boldly ; not like a 
 creeping savage, or a snake in the grass. Sift his 
 case by a fair trial. He will stand the test." 
 
 The President moved nervously in his chair, and 
 called for Newport's opinion. 
 
 " I cannot see sufficient reason for disliking his 
 presence here. He seems single-eyed to the good of 
 
THE PIONEERS. 63 
 
 the colony, and is brave enough to be of service. I 
 favor his demand." 
 
 " O, send him off, send him off," drawled John 
 Radcliffe. " He makes trouble, and perhaps means 
 to be king after all." 
 
 Martin and Kendall alluded to the murmurings of 
 the people, and with much force, urging that to refuse 
 a trial, and to a man so popular, might lead to incon- 
 ceivable embarrassments. 
 
 Wingfield was constrained to yield, though with an 
 ill grace. The trial took place. Upon thorough in- 
 vestigation, it appeared that those who had before 
 testified that Smith purposed to usurp kingly power 
 by means of assassination, had been instigated to do 
 so, and that their instigators had been actuated by 
 pure malice. In the end Smith was acquitted ; the 
 tables were turned ; and Wingfield, as the prime 
 mover of the libel, was adjudged to pay two hundred 
 pounds to the man whom he had wantonly wronged! 
 Smith was now restored to his seat in the Council, 
 and generously threw the effects of Wingfield, which 
 were awarded him, into the common treasury. Thus 
 did the schemes of an " unscrupulous and narrow- 
 minded" man recoil upon himself.* 
 
 On the following day peace was made with the 
 Indians, at their own solicitation ; and on the 15th of 
 June, Captain Newport sailed for England, leaving 
 one hundred colonists in possession of stores and a 
 pinnace, and with a prospect of prosperity and tran- 
 quillity. 
 
 * Smith, 43. Stith, 47. Burk, I. 101. Yet Bancroft says : " The 
 attempt at his trial was ahandoned." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE BRUISED REED. — THE EXECUTION. 
 
 The scorching rays of a July sun beat with full 
 power upon the little clearing at Jamestown. The 
 noise of labor had ceased, and the hum of voices ; in 
 short, every sound of life. The pinnace lay moored 
 to the trees, and rocking lazily and untended on the 
 water. The tents were rotten and tattered. The 
 cabins were tottering and half unroofed. The gardens 
 were choked with weeds, and the ramparts of the fort 
 were deserted. A row of mounds in a distant corner, 
 freshly turned up and covered with turf, had the ap- 
 pearance of newly made graves. 
 
 There were but two signs of life in the open space, 
 — a carrion crow upon a tall pine, and an emaciated 
 man sitting languidly upon the ground. They were 
 eying each other ! The pine swayed and creaked ; 
 the bird took wing and croaked. 
 
 "Your throat is an open sepulchre!" exclaimed 
 the man, with some energy. " Curse the bird ! " And 
 he clenched his bony hand, and ground his teeth, and 
 cursed Virginia, and cursed the day of his birth, and 
 cursed God. It was dreadful, with death at his 
 elbow, as it were ! Suddenly another mood came 
 over him. The lines of passion faded from his face, 
 a thoughtful, pensive shade settled upon his pale 
 
THE BRUISED REED. 65 
 
 brow, tears stood in his eyes, he reached forward as if 
 he would embrace something which he loved. 
 
 " O England! happy England! Great God, if I 
 could go home to die ! It is a wicked son ; yet, for 
 one more prayer, mother ! one blessing, one kiss, I 'd 
 be glad to die. But — dying like a dog — here — 
 here — O God ! O God ! " The wretched man gave 
 way to sobs. 
 
 It was a little past noon. He had tottered a few 
 steps from his miserable shelter, bending under the 
 weight of a musket and a little, half-filled bag, — a 
 burden which a hale child might have carried, — but 
 had stopped to rest on his journey of twenty yards. 
 His object was to reach a large iron kettle suspend- 
 ed beneath an awning upon a framework of poles, 
 and over some smouldering embers. He now dashed 
 away his tears, as if angry with himself, took up his 
 burden, and nerved himself to his task. Having 
 quickened the fire, he emptied the bag into the cal- 
 dron, which had been supplied with water, and was 
 soon busily engaged in watching and stirring the mix- 
 ture. 
 
 " Ten men as stout as I, and ten half-pints of bar- 
 ley and ditto of wheat a day ! " he muttered. " Large 
 rations ! Bah ! " seeing the worms floating from the 
 grain upon the surface. " Never mind, Joe Price ; 
 call it game." 
 
 A half-dozen armed men now came up from the 
 river, also much emaciated, though they seemed strong- 
 er than poor Joe Price. Some crabs which they had 
 gathered were cooked, and, with the contents of the 
 kettle, were carried into the hut. Here the men met 
 three others of like appearance ; and the whole party 
 
 6* 
 
66 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 ravenously, and in solemn silence, devoured their 
 wretched meal. It was eked out, however, with a 
 few scraps- of bread made of spoiled wheat. They 
 were the only ten men in Jamestown who were able 
 to stand. 
 
 They had hardly gleaned the last morsels of their 
 ration, when outcries of distress were heard from the 
 huts near by. The sick were impatient for their 
 nurses, whose names they now called in the most 
 plaintive tones. A shriek, a moan, a sobbing and in- 
 coherent prayer, a delirious laugh, a roaring blasphe- 
 my, — to all these fearful sounds the men listened ; 
 and they shuddered. 
 
 u I 've been cursing, and praying too, within an 
 hour," exclaimed Price ; " but I can't stand this." 
 And he covered his ears with his hands. 
 
 " Good God ! " cried one, starting to his feet, " are 
 thy mercies clean gone ? What days ! What nights ' 
 What howlings ! What piteous faces ! " 
 
 " I thought you was pious, Stevens ! " said a com- 
 rade, with a sneer. 
 
 " Pious ! " echoed Stevens, in a grave tone. " If 
 you mean — what do you mean by pious ? " 
 
 u One of Parson Hunt's babies, a' n't you ? " * 
 
 " If you mean, thinking one's self good, or better 
 than his neighbor, I say No, William Lee. If you 
 mean, content with God's doings, and glad that he 
 
 * The Kev. Mr. Hunt was a clergyman of the Church of England 
 who came out with the colonists. He was a man of apostolic spirit, un- 
 obtrusive, humble, never interfering with the colonists, except to make 
 peace, — in which he was often successful, — to administer the ordinances 
 of the Gospel, and to commend the life and priesthood of his Divine 
 Master. He never returned ; but how long he lived is not known. 
 
THE BRUISED REED. 67 
 
 manages all things, I say Yes. If I spoke peevishly- 
 just now, may He forgive me ! But these sights and 
 sounds are terrible, here in this wild, wild forest. 
 Come, lads ; they cry for us. If we cannot save, we 
 can comfort them. Come ! " 
 
 Such was the condition of Jamestown about a fort- 
 night after the departure of Newport. Food spoiled 
 in the holds of the vessels, a summer heat unknown 
 in England, miserable shelters, labor and exposure 
 to which they had been unaccustomed, and poison- 
 ous vapors from a rank and humid soil, had wrought 
 dreadfully upon the exiles. 
 
 Early on the 22d morning of August, two men 
 leaned for a moment upon their spades as they fin- 
 ished their work in the little spot set apart for the 
 dead. Counting from the grave of the boy slain by 
 the Indians to the four just completed but unoccu- 
 pied, there were now more than forty. 
 
 " Four in one night!" exclaimed one of the grave- 
 diggers, in a depressed tone, and they dropped their 
 spades and threw themselves exhausted upon the 
 ground. 
 
 u Four out of misery, Price ; think of that." 
 
 " ' Misery,' William Lee ! I saw something else 
 last night." 
 
 " Did you ? " said Lee, with a leer ; " some religion, 
 hey?" 
 
 " I saw Stevens die." 
 
 " Snivelling about his sins." 
 
 " Shame on you, Lee ! and on me too. For the 
 matter of such mocking I 've done my share, God 
 forgive me ! " 
 
 " Now you 're thinking of your mammy, Price. 
 Pity you was ever weaned." 
 
68 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " I say, I saw Stevens die. ' Snivelling,' man ! 
 No ; nor glorying. There just lay all over his face 
 such a quiet light like, I thought it a kind o' diction- 
 ary definition of a verse I 've seen in the Bible." 
 
 " In — deed ! What verse, pray ? " 
 
 " ' Thou wilt keep in perfect peace him whose mind 
 is stayed on Thee ' ; that 's it, I believe. And when- 
 ever he wanted a drop o' water, he did not scowl and 
 swear, but just give me a smile like. And then he 'd 
 look in my face when he 'd wet his lips, and say with 
 his eyes, — for he could not speak, poor fellow, — 
 ' God bless you, Joe ' ; just as plain ! The last time, 
 though, he whispered." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " ' Lord Jesus, into thy — ' but he did n't finish. 
 He just slipped his head softly like off my arm, — for 
 I was holding him up a bit, — and kind o' dropped 
 asleep just like a little child in its mother's lap. ' Sniv- 
 elling,' Lee ! God grant you may see a Christian die 
 before you do yourself." 
 
 Lee rose with " Humph ! Come, man ; we must 
 bury." But there was a strange " twitching like," as 
 Price would have called it, of his eyelids, and about 
 the muscles of his mouth. 
 
 One, two, three, four, — among them the humble 
 soldier Stevens, and the sole preserver of peace, hith- 
 erto, in the Council, Gosnold, — were now dragged 
 forth, and over the rough ground, by the shoulders, 
 and laid coffinless in their graves. Price knelt upon 
 the earth which covered Stevens, and wept. 
 
 " Let me die the death of the righteous," he mur- 
 mured, " and let my last end be like his ! " 
 
 The burial for that morning was over. 
 
THE BRUISED REED. 69 
 
 So went the nights, and so went the mornings, and 
 so went the days, to September. The little row of 
 graves had become longer and longer, — by ones, by 
 twos, by threes, and sometimes by fours, — until fifty 
 men slept there under the sod. 
 
 During all this season of distress the President, 
 Wingfield, kept aloof from the sufferers, avoiding 
 also all exertion and all exposure to the sun. This 
 might account for his exemption from sickness ; but 
 it seemed strange that he showed no marks of suf- 
 fering from bad and stinted food. The mystery was 
 soon solved by the discovery that he had thriven in 
 secret upon the choicest portions of the stores which 
 he had villanously embezzled. Next, he was detect- 
 ed in a plan with Kendall to embark secretly in the 
 pinnace ; leaving to the Indian, to famine, and to 
 fate, those not necessary to his escape. Both were 
 expelled from the Council. 
 
 Radcliffe became nominally President ; but the ir- 
 resolute and indolent man imposed the labors and 
 responsibilities of his office upon Smith, who, still 
 tottering under the effects of terrible sickness, heroi- 
 cally undertook the salvation of the colony. The men 
 had abandoned themselves to a sullen despair, and 
 would not move a muscle for their own relief. They 
 only waited for the worst. Yet such were Smith's 
 influence and tact, that he succeeded in rousing them 
 to labor, by fellow-feeling, by cheering words, by gen- 
 tle persuasion, by a little well-timed raillery, and — 
 more than all — by example. He was the hardest 
 worker on the ground. Under such impulse, the slov- 
 enly settlement soon put on the aspect of order and 
 
70 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 neatness, and every man's dwelling was made com- 
 fortable, with one exception, — Smith's. 
 
 At length, even crabs and sturgeon disappeared, 
 which had been their sole resource after the consump- 
 tion of their worm-eaten grain. Famine seemed in- 
 evitable ; for they had great reason to expect hostili- 
 ties, rather than supplies, from the Indians. Yet, in 
 this dark exigency, the savages proffered a temporary 
 supply of corn in the way of traffic. Smith devoutly 
 ascribed this to the special interposition of God. But 
 more must be had ; and he girded himself to this task 
 also. 
 
 In a boat, he dropped down to a small bay on the 
 river's northern shore and near its mouth, where he 
 discovered and approached a village of the Indians. 
 They met him with insult, returning courtesy with 
 mockery, and making sport of his necessities. All 
 his efforts at conciliation were in vain : tkey only pro- 
 voked fresh derision. His patience was at length 
 exhausted. 
 
 " This will never do, my lads ! " he exclaimed to 
 the half-dozen men who accompanied him. " We 
 must have respect at least; and I mean to have 
 more. Give the rascals a volley, but fire over their 
 heads." 
 
 No sooner was it given than the Indians fled to the 
 woods. 
 
 " Now, men, reload, and forward to their wig- 
 wams." 
 
 Here they found corn in profusion ; which his fam- 
 ished men would have seized at once, had not then 
 leader interfered. 
 
 " Hold ! " said he ; " no stealing. I mean to have 
 
THE BRUISED REED. 71 
 
 corn ; but I will have it honestly. Stand on your 
 guard : the Philistines will be upon you in a trice." 
 
 His conjecture was right. Sixty or seventy war- 
 riors soon advanced from their cover in a solid column, 
 armed with clubs, shields, bows and arrows, and hide- 
 ously bedaubed with paints. Conspicuous in their 
 front was an image of unearthly appearance, borne 
 aloft, and bedizened with ornaments. 
 
 " That dumb devil there is their war-god, I sup- 
 pose," said Smith. " Robinson, I leave him to you. 
 Be sure you bring him down when I give the word. 
 Ready, men, — all. No boy's play this time. We 
 can't help it ; they must have the balls." 
 
 The Indians rushed on boldly, with the fiercest 
 demonstrations. Smith gave the word " Fire ! " and a 
 parcel of dusky bodies lay flouncing upon the ground, 
 while the others scoured again for the woods. 
 
 " Right, Robinson ! " said Smith ; " you 've dropped 
 your game. First load, and then pick him up. Load 
 all, my lads ! Never stir from your tracks with empty 
 pieces." 
 
 Robinson brought the idol, which was . placed con- 
 spicuous and erect as a trophy. 
 
 " Let us wait, now, for their movements, boys ! 
 Those other devils are picking themselves up from 
 the ground. How is it, Robinson ? Was this stuffed 
 monster the only dead one there ? " 
 
 " I think so, sir. I saw blood, but no one who 
 was n't kicking." 
 
 " So much the better. Whew ! what have we 
 now ? " 
 
 A fantastically dressed Indian was advancing alone 
 from the thicket, unarmed, having none of the ap- 
 
72 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 pendages of a warrior, and making signs of abject 
 submission. Smith beckoned him onward until they 
 met. The Indian's distress was evidently for the 
 captive idol ; but he was given to understand, partly 
 by a few words which Smith had picked up, and 
 partly by signs, that if six unarmed Indians would 
 come and load the boat with corn, Smith would re- 
 turn the god, pay for the corn, and be their friend. 
 This was the end of all controversy. Corn, venison, 
 turkeys, and other wild-fowl, were brought in abun- 
 dance. The boat was laden; the idol returned; 
 beads, small mirrors, and hatchets were given in pay- 
 ment for the supplies ; the Indians were penitent and 
 happy ; and their visitors departed in peace. 
 
 As soon as this invaluable freight was landed at 
 Jamestown, the settlers passed at a stride from death's 
 door to riot. The food which God had brought to 
 them in the wilderness was not only devoured with 
 greed and thanklessness, but wasted with profane in- 
 sanity. Smith, who was determined that the settle- 
 ment should on no account be abandoned, devoted 
 himself to feed the men whom he could not bring to 
 reason. He therefore repeated his trading excur- 
 sions with unwearied patience, — excursions which 
 he wisely improved to acquire the language of the 
 natives ; to study their character, habits, and super- 
 stitions ; and to gain their respect by showing them, 
 as he did, that he could move freely among them, 
 by day or by night, without fear. In all these objects 
 he succeeded. 
 
 Returning from one of his missions some time in 
 October, he found the colonists in unusual commotion. 
 A gallows explained the mystery. One of the car- 
 
THE EXECUTION. 73 
 
 penters had been reproved sharply by Radcliffe, the 
 President, for disobedience of orders. He was a pas- 
 sionate man, and Madeline's words had been stinging 
 insults. The man had resented them by attacking t he- 
 President with his tools, and attempting his life. Upon 
 trial, a jury had found him guilty. He was condemned 
 to be hung, and the sentence was now about to be 
 executed. The people were assembled to witness the 
 tragic scene ; and the culprit was even now advancing 
 to his fate. The wretched man mounted the scaffold 
 with an anxious look, and cast his eyes keenly over 
 the little crowd. While the usual preliminaries were 
 in progress, his countenance underwent very marked 
 and singular changes ; betraying, alternately, boldness, 
 terror, expectation, hope, doubt, and at last despair 
 and rage. The executioner was ready, and there was 
 a brief pause in the proceedings. The doomed man 
 now made a startling revelation, addressed directly to 
 Smith. 
 
 " Captain Smith, I thank God that I see you here. 
 I die justly, and make no defence. But you ought to 
 know how it happens. You see, Captain, when you 
 are away, things always goes wrong. The folks won't 
 mind the President, because he has not spunk enough 
 nor sense enough to make 'em. Now a few days ago 
 we got into a row. Everything was heads and tails, 
 — all higgledy-piggledy. We was just like a mob ; 
 and all mad about something, and nobody knowed 
 what, — except that we was all in Virgin ny. I swore 
 out loud, not meaning just what I said, — but how- 
 somever I swore I 'd be damned if I 'd stay in such a 
 country. Upon which there comes a man to me, and 
 says he, ' Jenkins,' says he, < you 're just about the . 
 7 
 
74 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION, 
 
 right sort of a chap'; and says J, 'I knows it.' 
 ' Well,' says he, ' are ye a mind to go off? ' ' Yes,' 
 says I ; for I had n't got over my mad fit. ; Well,' 
 says he, ' will ye keep mum ? ' ' Mum 's the word,' 
 says I. And then he ups and tells me as how some 
 o' the folks had put their heads together and agreed 
 to streak it off with the pinnace ; and I agreed to go 
 with them to be ship's carpenter. Well, Captain, I 
 kept my secret ; but it made me kind o' uppish like ; 
 and when the President — that 's Mr. Radcliffe — 
 give me orders, I did n't mind, and answered his sarce 
 by trying to kill him. May God forgive me ! So 
 you see, Captain, 't was gettin' in with them fellows 
 what made me do this ; and they knows it. Thinks 
 I, they '11 see that I don't come to harm, if I keep 
 close. An' now I 've waited up to this minute, hop- 
 ing that they would n't leave a comrade in the lurch 
 with a rope round his neck. Thinks I, they '11 rescue 
 me somehow. But now you see, Captain, they don't 
 do it. So I '11 just give my soul up to God in Jesus' 
 name ; but I '11 be damned if I do,* without exposin' 
 on 'em. And so now you have it, Captain Smith. 
 That man Wingfield what was President, and what 
 steals the best prog, and that t' other big taffeta f man, 
 Captain Kendall, and about half a dozen others whom 
 I need n't name, — them 's the chaps, Captain. You 'd 
 best look arter 'em. And may God have mercy on 
 my soul ! " 
 
 * The force of habit sometimes makes strange work. " O God ! 
 have mercy on me, a God-damned sinner ! " said a profane sea-captain, as 
 he threw himself on his knees in his state-room, in an agony of mind 
 about his godless life. It was his first penitential prayer. 
 
 t Alluding to the silken jerkins by which the "gentlemen" colonists 
 were distinguished. " Tuftaffeta," as used by Smith, seems to mean 
 taffeta tufted, worn to shreds. See Simms, 129, note. 
 
THE EXECUTION. 75 
 
 There was immediately a bustle and a movement. 
 Smith and others disappeared from the scene, leaving 
 the executioner to his duty. He promptly found Rad- 
 cliffe, who seemed strangely apathetic about the con- 
 spiracy ; but was willing that Smith should manage 
 the affair as he chose, — for himself he could not be 
 pothered. Word was soon brought that Wingfield, 
 Kendall, and others, were astir, and had seized the 
 pinnace. Smith gathered a few trusty men in the 
 fort, and brought the guns to bear upon the pinnace. 
 
 " Go," said he to a soldier, " and give those fellows 
 warning. Tell them I '11 sink every soul of them 
 where they are, if they float a foot from their moor- 
 ings. They must surrender, or take the consequences. 
 The consequences are in these guns." 
 
 The conspirators knew the determined character of 
 Smith, and surrendered. They were immediately 
 tried by a jury ; and Kendall, as the ringleader, was 
 condemned to be shot. Thus again did the Projector 
 of empires interfere and save the colony.* 
 
 This affair over, the indefatigable steward for hun- 
 gry and wasteful men departed once more to gather 
 stores, and extend his acquaintance with the natives. 
 Again he returned, with a full freight of corn, pease, 
 pumpkins, and fowl ; and again he was just in season 
 to prevent the abandonment of Jamestown. He had 
 
 * On the death of Captain Kendall, Campbell says (p. 13), " he was 
 tried by a jury, and shot " ; and adds the following note : — " Newes from 
 Virginia, p. 7. Hillard says, ' In the action Captain Kendall was slain ' ; 
 being no doubt misled by the expression in Smith, ' which action cost 
 the life of Captain Kendall.' By the word ' action ' here, Smith intended 
 his conduct. Bancroft has fallen into the same mistake with Hillard." 
 For the confession of the culprit, as given in the text, see Simms's Life 
 of Smith, p. 127. 
 
76 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 all along been aware that a full stomach and good 
 cheer were essential to an Englishman's content. 
 Upon this conviction he had labored ; and to this 
 point he now argued. He pointed to his abundant 
 cargo, to the sudden appearance of myriads of fowl 
 upon the water, of fat deer and other game daily 
 coming nearer and nearer to them in the woods. The 
 Englishmen saw, and were content. 
 
 They were soon engrossed with the exciting sport 
 of the forest, their tables were loaded with luxuries, 
 and their faces glowed with good humor. Smith was 
 freed from care and apprehension. 
 
 Thus did the first permanent colony of British 
 America totter through five months of its existence ; 
 and thus for the present was it preserved. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 The Chickahominy is a stream which falls into 
 James River on the north, about six miles above 
 Jamestown. About the 1st of November, Captain 
 Smith was exploring the forest at its sources, about 
 seventy miles from its mouth, and attended by an 
 Indian guide. Less than half an horn* previously he 
 had landed from a canoe which he left in charge of 
 two Englishmen, Robinson and Emry ; the barge 
 in which he had left Jamestown having been stopped 
 by shoals twenty miles below, and moored in a small 
 bay or cove, in keeping of her crew, and at a safe dis- 
 tance from either shore. The weather was very cold ; 
 the wind had a sullen sound, the foliage a saddened 
 hue, and the forest a repulsive gloom. But though 
 the adventurous Englishman felt how Nature had 
 changed her aspect since she greeted him with April 
 smiles and beauties, yet he strode on with manly 
 vigor and a soldier's fearlessness. 
 
 Suddenly the woods rang with the savage war- 
 whoop. As suddenly the guide was in the strong 
 gripe of the Englishman, and in a few seconds was 
 bound fast to his left arm. Smith wore garters ! 
 
 " Now, you young rascal," said he, suspecting the 
 savage of treachery, " if your friends shoot me, they 
 shoot you." 
 
 7* 
 
78 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 A spent arrow struck him on the thigh, and he 
 discovered two Indians adjusting their bows. A shot 
 from his gun put them to flight. He reloaded and 
 stood on the watch ; the frightened guide, so adroitly 
 converted into a shield, much questioning with him- 
 self whether he were an Indian or a thing. 
 
 " This way, my lad," said Smith, jerking his cap- 
 tive to his front ; " there come your friends again." 
 
 " And now this way," he added, stepping back- 
 wards in the direction of the canoe. " It 's like 
 English marriage, my friend, — until death do sepa- 
 rate us." 
 
 Now the woods were thronged, except in his rear, 
 with painted and whooping savages. They were 
 sorely puzzled by the odd contrivance of the white 
 man for the protection of his body ; they were terri- 
 bly afraid of coming within range of his musket, and 
 they could not approach him from behind, as will 
 soon appear. But notwithstanding their unwilling- 
 ness to hurt the guide, they discharged several arrows 
 from a distance ; and Smith managed to return mus- 
 ket-ball, steadily retreating the while, and exhorting 
 his trembling prisoner to tread in his steps. At last 
 a voice in ambush called to him. 
 
 " Well ! " he answered, still stepping backwards. 
 
 " Let the white chief come to us, that we may not 
 hurt him." 
 
 " The white chief has business. He must hasten. 
 He fears no hurt." Then, twitching his Indian, 
 " Speed, friend, speed ! " 
 
 " The white warrior's brothers on the river are 
 dead," said the voice. 
 
 " But the white warrior lives." 
 
POCAHONTAS. 79 
 
 He discharged his musket, and its report was an- 
 swered by a death-shriek. 
 
 " The red man's blood for the white man's ! " he 
 shouted, and reloaded. " Come, lad, come ! " 
 
 " They were but women," was the answer. " The 
 great warrior we would not harm. Let him give up 
 his thunder-bearer, and come to the red man's lodge." 
 
 " The great warrior is strong. He needs no rest " ; 
 and, again catching sight of an Indian, he brought 
 him to the ground. 
 
 This singular conference was sustained more than 
 half an hour; during which time some twenty or 
 thirty arrows had been discharged, some of which 
 had passed harmless through his clothes. Smith had 
 slain three of his assailants, and wounded several 
 others. It was a tragical farce, a laughable tragedy. 
 
 There was a morass — or rather a shallow creek 
 with a soft, muddy bottom — behind, which had pre- 
 vented the Indians from surrounding him. Into this 
 he suddenly stepped, sinking to his middle, and drag- 
 ging his guide with him. The bottom, though in- 
 sufficient for their support, was yet of sufficient firm- 
 ness to hold them fast and helpless. The poor In- 
 dian began to think of hunting-grounds in the skies. 
 
 Smith retained his gun ; and his assailants, " the 
 better part of valor." They dared not approach him. 
 There were three hundred warriors hunting this one 
 man. Curiosity urged forward the more remote in 
 the throngs. The foremost, thus brought face to face 
 with Smith, " trembled with fear." Finding himself 
 perishing with cold, and held fast by the bog, he 
 threw away his arms, and was drawn to firm ground, 
 half frozen and a prisoner. 
 
80 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 He was now carried helpless to the spot where he 
 had left his canoe, and where were the corpses of 
 Robinson and Emry, riddled with arrows. The un- 
 happy men had kindled a fire, beside which they had 
 lain and slept, — never to wake. Before this fire 
 Smith was carefully laid, and his limbs were rubbed 
 vigorously by his captors, until, recovering warmth, 
 he was able to stand and move. He was in the 
 power of those who thought little of blood or death. 
 He knew it ; and from the moment of his capture he 
 considered his life lost. But he preserved his pres- 
 ence of mind, and appeared coolly indifferent to his 
 fate. 
 
 " Who is your chief ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Opechancanough." 
 
 " The brother of your king, Powhattan ? " 
 
 « His brother." 
 
 " I would see him." 
 
 Opechancanough soon appeared. He was a fine 
 specimen of the Indian warrior ; of large stature, an 
 imposing countenance, and a form admirably propor- 
 tioned and developed. He approached his captive 
 with the deference and courtesy due to a distin- 
 guished guest, and with the natural dignity of a 
 prince. Smith greeted him with quiet ease and 
 respect, as if at a friendly interview. No allusion 
 was made to the relation which had so suddenly 
 sprung up between them. Seeing that the chief was 
 attracted by a round ivory compass-dial which he 
 carried by his side, Smith took occasion to explain 
 it to him and to his principal warriors, as far as 
 signs and his limited knowledge of their language 
 would allow. They were much amused and puz- 
 
POCAHONTAS. 81 
 
 zled by the mysterious and life-like motion of the 
 needle. He then digressed — very naturally — to 
 geography, navigation, astronomy, and the different 
 races of men ; giving them, in short, the first dis- 
 course on the natural sciences ever uttered by a 
 Saxon on the continent. Little as they compre- 
 hended all this, in one important thing the lecturer 
 succeeded, — he impressed them with profound rev- 
 erence for himself. They had before stood in awe 
 of him, as the great man and master spirit of the 
 strangers ; they had admired his courage, his endur- 
 ance of fatigue, his manly reliance upon himself dur- 
 ing his previous excursions ; and they had just seen 
 with what heroic daring and resolution he could 
 defend himself against hundreds. But he now 
 seemed to them as a pet child of Nature, to whom 
 her deepest mysteries were free and her grandest 
 works playthings. In other words, they suspected 
 him of possessing supernatural knowledge and 
 powers. 
 
 But there was one thing in nature with which this 
 wonderful captive had had no acquaintance, — Death. 
 How would he meet that ? Would he make that a 
 plaything ? Or would he scorn it ? Or would he 
 fear it ? Opechancanough would see. So he or- 
 dered him to be bound to a tree. Would he ask to 
 be spared ? Would he offer ransom ? Would he 
 turn pale and tremble ? Would he struggle, or even 
 shut his eyes, when twenty braves should draw their 
 bows against him ? Would he cry out and writhe, 
 when twenty arrows should have nailed him where 
 he stood ? Opechancanough would see. 
 
 Smith was led forward, — no hanging back, no 
 
82 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 tremor. He was bound, — no resistance. The bow- 
 men were drawn out, — no prayer for life. The 
 arrows were fixed upon the strings, — no trembling, 
 no pallor. The shafts were drawn and aimed, — no 
 word of ransom. The signal was given ; the bow- 
 strings twanged. The white man did not blink his 
 eye, or shriek, or leap, or writhe. He stood there, 
 silent and calm. The arrows had dropped at the feet 
 of the archers. Opechancanough had seen ! 
 
 He was satisfied. He was proud of such a captive. 
 He would show him through the country in triumph ; 
 for Powhattan himself had never won so great a tro- 
 phy. So he was led in grand procession and great 
 pomp to Orapakes, — a favorite hunting-seat of Pow- 
 hattan, a few miles northeast of the spot where he 
 had first met Smith and Newport ; thence, to be 
 exhibited to the various tribes on the Rappahannock 
 and Potomac rivers ; thence, to Pamunkey, the resi- 
 dence of Opechancanough, near the fork of York 
 River ; and finally, to Werowocomoco, then the 
 favorite residence of Powhattan, about twenty-five 
 miles below Pamunkey. This triumphal march oc^ 
 cupied about six weeks, during which time he was 
 most bountifully fed, and with the choicest which the 
 savages could provide. In a letter to the queen of 
 James the First, written in 1616, Smith calls this 
 " six weeks of fatting 1 among those grim courtiers " ; 
 for he supposed, during the journey, that they were 
 preparing him by good living to serve as a delicate 
 dish for Powhattan's table. " I think," says Smith's 
 narrative, " his [Smith's] stomacke at that time was 
 not very good." 
 
 While at Orapakes, the Indians made preparations 
 
POCAHONTAS. 83 
 
 to take Jamestown by surprise ; thinking it might be 
 done now the great man of the strangers was not 
 there to protect them. Opechancanough revealed this 
 scheme to his prisoner, adding : " We would have the 
 white warrior be our brother and fight with us." 
 
 " Against his own people ! " 
 
 " They are dogs, lazy and greedy ; women, weak 
 and cowardly. Such are not the people of a warrior. 
 Be of our people, who are brave." 
 
 " The white man may not kill the white man." 
 
 " But I can kill thee ! " said the chief, for the moment 
 in a passion at Smith's refusal. But recovering his 
 dignity, he added : " Be our brother and our warrior, 
 and save thy life." 
 
 " The dwelling of the English cannot be taken by 
 the warriors of Powhattan." 
 
 A scornful incredulity was on the face of the chief 
 as he replied : " Opechancanough offers his captive — 
 life." 
 
 " Do I fear to die ? " 
 
 " Opecancanough will give — freedom." 
 
 M The dwelling of the white men is like the nest of 
 the eagle. The thunderbolts of the Great Spirit play 
 around it." 
 
 " And as much land as the white warrior wants." 
 
 " You cannot take the place of the English." 
 
 " And as many wives." 
 
 " Go first," said Smith, with emphasis, " and see 
 the white man's fort. It is strong." 
 
 " We have many warriors, — great warriors. The 
 white men are weak without their chief. They sleep." 
 
 " They have strong walls, and wakeful guards, and 
 great thunder-bearers which will sweep down your 
 
84 
 
 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 braves as the wind does those snow-flakes from yon- 
 der pine." 
 
 " Their chief can make the thunder-bearers sleep." 
 
 " King of Pamunkey ! " said Smith, earnestly, " you 
 have men. Let your messengers go and see. When 
 they come back, if they say that your warriors, and I 
 with them, can destroy the lodges of the English, I 
 will talk again about the matter. Till then, I will 
 neither go nor talk. You have my answer. Send 
 and see." 
 
 The chief pondered a few moments, and then said : 
 " Opechancanough will send." 
 
 Smith tore a leaf from a note-book in his posses- 
 sion, and wrote upon it, informing the colonists of 
 his condition, and of the plot of the Indians ; telling 
 them in some way to give the messengers a terrible 
 idea of their means of defence, and to send him cer- 
 tain toys and trinkets. 
 
 " Let your runners take that to the English. The 
 English will send to Opechancanough great pres- 
 ents," — specifying the particular articles for which 
 he had written. 
 
 The runners left " in as severe weather as frost and 
 snow could make," and returned in three days with 
 terrific accounts of the huge instruments of death by 
 which the fort was protected. They brought also the 
 identical " great presents " which Smith had enumer- 
 ated to the chief. At this he and his warriors were 
 in amazement. It was necromancy. Their prisoner 
 could talk with the English, though ever so far off! 
 It confirmed their previous suspicion of his preter- 
 natural powers. With such ideas of the English 
 garrison, and of the wonderful gifts of its protec- 
 
POCAHONTAS. 85 
 
 tor-chief, the design against Jamestown was aban- 
 doned. 
 
 Thus again did Smith prove the saviour of the 
 colony. 
 
 So impressed were the Indians with the idea that 
 he was a being of more than human endowments, 
 that they were extremely anxious to ascertain whether 
 he was disposed to use his gifts to their good or their 
 hurt. At Pamunkey, therefore, they took means to 
 solve this question. For three successive days they 
 submitted their captive to a series of incantations too 
 absurd and frivolous for detail. It is enough to say, 
 that his guards were withdrawn from his presence, 
 and he was shut up face to face with half a dozen 
 savages in the guise of fiends, and compelled to en- 
 dure their wild and frantic distortions, their ludicrous 
 antics and grimaces, their howls and shrieks, their 
 fantastic dances and silly mummeries, without cessa- 
 tion and without food, from morning to night of each 
 day, — a pantomime by which a man of only common 
 self-possession would have been goaded to rage, and 
 one of sensitive nerves to frenzy. To what conclu- 
 sion the conjurers came, neither history nor tradition 
 affirms. 
 
 Before his captivity, the fame of Smith had reached 
 the most remote and humble of Powhattan's subjects. 
 They had conceived of him as the presiding genius 
 of the colony ; as the wise, the bold, the energetic, 
 the hero-man of the strangers. But from the day of 
 his capture in the swamps of the Chickahominy, he 
 became a sort of demigod in the eye of the supersti- 
 tious people. Strange tales of his fearlessness, of his 
 valor, of his terrible might, of his mysterious knowl- 
 
86 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 edge, of his superhuman power, had floated far and 
 wide ; and in every village and wigwam on his route 
 his coming had been anticpiated with awe. The 
 few who had seen him on his errands of traffic of 
 course knew his person truly. But to the many who 
 had only heard, he was simply the champion, the 
 patriarch, the wonderful sage, of the white men. 
 For them, a wild imagination drew and colored his 
 portrait. No wonder, then, that grave warriors and 
 " grim courtiers," and women and youths and maidens, 
 flocked to behold him on his way ; and especially, as 
 he waited with fearless composure in the village of 
 Powhattan for his introduction to the presence of the 
 chief. But how great must have been the amaze- 
 ment of the throng, when "the champion" dwindled 
 to the stature of a common man ; " the sage " stood 
 before them comely and vigorous ; and in " the patri- 
 arch " they beheld an attractive yet imposing youth 
 of twenty-seven years ! Imagine the sensations of 
 scarred and brawny veterans, as they scanned the 
 form, the features, the quiet attitude of the captive ; 
 of the shrinking matron, as she looked from behind 
 her savage lord ; of the timid girl, as she peeped 
 through the mat which covered the door of her hut. 
 
 So distinguished a prisoner Powhattan would re- 
 ceive in state ; and considerable time elapsed before 
 preparations could be made. The great chief, "whose 
 will was supreme and whose nod was law," had at 
 length gathered and arrayed his court. On either 
 side, and all along the spacious apartment or hall, 
 were ranged two rows of women ; in front of them, 
 two rows of men ; all in their best clothing, their best 
 paints, and their best ornaments. Powhattan occu- 
 
POCAHONTAS. 87 
 
 pied an elevated couch covered with choice and beau- 
 tiful mats, and was clad in an ample robe of fars. 
 From his neck hung a rich chain of great pearls. A 
 pillow of dressed deer-skin, beautifully embroidered 
 with shells and beads, supported his arm ; and two 
 young women sat with him on either side, their jet- 
 black hair sprinkled with snow-white down, and their 
 necks encircled by bands of inferior pearls. 
 
 A peal of welcome greeted the captive at his en 
 trance. Then a profound silence, and the steadfast 
 gaze of every eye, evinced the respect and admira- 
 tion of the assembly. Smith, though received with 
 grave and stately dignity by Powhattan, was treated 
 more like a princely guest, than like a prisoner whose 
 life hung upon the decision of the hour. A young 
 beauty of the woods, the Queen of Appamattuck, 
 brought him water to wash his hands ; and another 
 presented to him a bunch of feathers for a napkin. 
 Choice food was then set before him, and he was bid- 
 den to eat while the council were discussing the ques- 
 tion of his life or his death. " I think his stomacke at 
 that time was not very good." 
 
 Immediately behind the chief, and half hidden by 
 his flowing robe, sat a little girl of " twelve or thirteen 
 years of age." She was a specimen of Indian beauty 
 unrivalled in all Powhattan' s dominions ; and right 
 proud was he to call her " daughter." There was sin- 
 gular intelligence in her vivid dark eye, while the 
 fringe which overhung and softened its brilliance was 
 a true type of her native modesty. Her faultless form 
 had the peculiar charm which belongs to girlhood just 
 ready to assume the full outline and finished grace to 
 which nature impels it. 
 
88 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 At Smith's entrance, her countenance betrayed sur- 
 prise ; and, no longer shrinking as if for protection 
 under the shadow of her royal father, she sat erect, 
 intently observing every movement and feature of the 
 captive. The discussion respecting his fate was long 
 and solemn. As it proceeded, her attitude, her fea- 
 tures, changed. She turned her earnest eye from each 
 successive speaker to the prisoner, to her father, to her 
 uncles, who were great in council as in war ; showing 
 evidently that she had a speech in her heart, and that, 
 if she were not a little girl, she would speak it. She 
 heard the grave counsellors of her father utter words 
 of admiration, of respect, and even of reverence, for 
 their captive ; but, to her amazement, she perceived 
 that all their praises were arguments for his death. 
 They would have him killed because he was brave 
 and valiant and wise ! because he was the strong 
 arm, the good head, and the big heart of the English ! 
 because, if he died, his brothers would perish as the 
 leaves do when the sapling is severed from its root ! 
 She glanced at the young and noble man whose vir- 
 tues were crimes, who was a culprit because a hero. 
 Pity tapped at the door of her young heart, and en- 
 tered ; and then opened the fountain there till its wa- 
 ters welled up and flowed forth in tears. She looked 
 in her father's face; but there were no tears there, 
 no sign of pity; nothing but sternness, — heartless, 
 savage sternness. She gently pulled at the skirt of his 
 robe ; but he testily put it in place again, and bent 
 his brow darkly upon his victim. The decision was 
 given. The young warrior must die. Pity now took 
 counsel with Grief, and they made such commotion in 
 the maiden's heart, they woke up such courage and 
 
POCAHONTAS. 89 
 
 resolution and " I-will " there, that she climbed upon 
 her father's couch, and laid her hand softly upon her 
 father's arm, — it was so softly, and he was so busy 
 with big and bloody thoughts, that he did not feel it. 
 A great stone was just then brought in and laid before 
 him. She looked up at his face again, through her 
 tears ; but it was sterner than before. Then she crept 
 around upon his knee, threw herself upon his neck, and 
 sobbed. He was surprised and angry ; but he loved 
 her : she was the pride and darling of his heart. So 
 he removed her gently, with a look and word of re- 
 proof. But she would not be reproved. She clung 
 to his arm, laid her head upon his shoulder, and whis- 
 pered pleading, piteous words in his ear. Passion, 
 for the moment, got the better of the father's heart, 
 and he thrust the child away ; frowning because the 
 gravity of a council, and dignity of a king, were en- 
 croached upon by a soft-hearted girl. She made one 
 imploring gesture, then sank at his feet, buried her face 
 in her hands, and sobbed aloud. All this intercession 
 had been rapid and brief. Powhattan petulantly 
 signed to one of the young women who shared his 
 seat of state to remove the child ; but hearing a noise, 
 she looked up and saw the white man stretched on 
 the ground, his head upon a stone, and an Indian 
 standing over him with a war-club, watching for the 
 signal of the chief. 
 
 With a faint scream, the maiden sprang from her 
 crouching posture, knelt beside the prostrate man, 
 threw her arms around his person, and laid her head 
 upon his, above the stone of death. She spoke no 
 word, but looked. It was a mild, mournful look, — 
 a mute but thrilling, reproachful farewell to her relent- 
 
 8* 
 
90 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 less father. She closed her eyes. The grave is not 
 more silent than was the council-room of Powhattan. 
 
 " God hath chosen the foolish things of the world 
 to confound the wise, and the weak things of the 
 world to confound the things which are mighty." 
 The boar out of the wood would have wasted, the 
 wild-beast of the field would have devoured, the vine 
 which He was planting. To save it — for the life of 
 Smith was the life of Virginia — He interposed an 
 unbaptized infant. By the dumb eloquence of a tear- 
 ful girl, He brought to naught the counsels of princes. 
 And now the vine filleth the land. The hills are cov- 
 ered with the shadow of it, and the boughs thereof 
 are like goodly cedars. It has sent out its boughs 
 unto the sea, and its branches beyond the rivers. 
 
 Powhattan was in the toils of his " most deare and 
 beloved" Pocahontas. She had taken hold of his 
 strength. He relented; yielded. The decree of death 
 was reversed. 
 
 " I will spare him," said the despotic chief, u for a 
 servant. He shall make hatchets for me, and bells 
 and rattles for her." 
 
 Yet, for some reason, the chief's heart was further 
 softened towards his captive. Instead of using him 
 as a servant, he instantly received him to the intimacy 
 of a friend ; and even promised him his liberty, a large 
 tract of land, and " for ever to esteeme him his sonne," 
 if he would send him from Jamestown two pieces of 
 cannon and a grindstone, which his heart exceedingly 
 longed for. To this Smith promptly agreed. The 
 chief was true to his word ; and on the third day after 
 his head lay a mark for the executioner's mace, Smith 
 was on his way to Jamestown. So little, however, 
 
POCAHONTAS. 91 
 
 did be confide in Powhattan's good intentions, that 
 he was in constant expectation of being murdered by 
 his escort. But, says his narrative, " Almighty God, 
 by his divine providence, had mollified the hearts of 
 those stern barbarians with compassion." 
 
 He was now to fulfil his promise. He therefore 
 presented to his guides a grindstone and two can- 
 non, bidding the Indians take them to Powhattan. 
 " They found them somewhat too heavie." 
 
 " Ugh ! " exclaimed their chief, who was a faithful 
 captain of Powhattan. 
 
 " Rawhunt ! I keep my word," said Smith. " I 
 promised. I give. You will not take ? " 
 
 The Indians looked blank, and Rawhunt gravely 
 shook his head. 
 
 " Very well, Rawhunt; but you must tell Powhat- 
 tan what I have done." 
 
 " We will tell." 
 
 " And tell him also how the thunderers speak, and 
 how they strike. Look at yonder tree," pointing to a 
 veteran pine loaded with icicles ; " I will tell the thun- 
 derers to strike it." 
 
 The cannon were well charged with stones. The 
 ice flew ; the huge branches crashed and fell ; the 
 savages turned and fled. So terribly were they fright- 
 ened, that it was not without some ado that they could 
 be found and brought to conference again. But this 
 done, Smith atoned for their disappointment and 
 fright by presents for themselves, Powhattan, and his 
 family. The party then left, highly delighted with 
 their trinkets, and with clear convictions of the terri- 
 ble power of cannon and white men.* 
 
 * The statements in this chapter will be found in Smith, 46-49; 
 Stith, 50-56; Burk, I. 104-116. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE EOYAL SHAKPEK. — THE C ONFL AGE ATION.— GOLD. 
 
 It was now late in the month of December. The 
 number of the colonists was reduced to forty. They 
 were suffering for want of provisions, which they had 
 heedlessly wasted ; and no one among them had skill 
 or enterprise enough to supply their lack. Neither 
 was any one competent to maintain peace and order. 
 To complete their sad condition, they were at strife 
 among themselves ; the larger number being resolved 
 to abandon the settlement, and just on the eve of 
 departure. 
 
 Under such circumstances, Captain Smith's re- 
 appearance, after his seven weeks' captivity, to those 
 who had thought him dead, was an event of great joy 
 to all save the very few to whom his popularity was 
 offensive, and his soldierly decision irksome. He 
 promptly met the present emergency, and suppressed 
 the attempt at desertion. Once more, with cannon 
 and musketry pointed upon the pinnace, he gave the 
 discontented their choice, — to stay or sink. Of 
 course they stayed. 
 
 But when he related the circumstances of his deliv- 
 erance, made known the change in Powhattan's tem- 
 per, his present liberal disposition, and the profusion 
 of food at his command, the colonists took heart, and 
 looked upon the future with hope. Hardly were his 
 
THE ROYAL SHARPER. 93 
 
 cheering words uttered, and comprehended by his de- 
 sponding companions, before they were verified. Poc- 
 ahontas herself, bright with smiles and happy in her 
 errand, appeared before the garrison, with a train of 
 attendants laden with baskets of provisions. 
 
 A child, bringing its offering with a loving and un- 
 selfish heart to minister to the want or pleasure of 
 another ; in its simplicity and purity of intent, uncon- 
 scious that it is doing an angel-errand ; and, like an 
 angel, absorbed and blessed in the happiness it im- 
 parts ; — what a lesson, what a rebuke, to its elders, 
 so thoughtless of a neighbor's want, so callous to a 
 brother's sorrow or a sister's need, so apt, so glib, in 
 only saying, " Be warmed, be clothed " ! 
 
 This was not a passing fancy of Pocahontas. 
 While the want of the English continued, it was her 
 habit. Every few days, she brought her precious 
 gifts ; and quietly returned to her lodge, to dream of 
 the happy faces which she had left in the white man's 
 home. 
 
 Nor was this all. Other Indians came, bringing 
 presents of food from Pocahontas or Powhattan. 
 Others still, brought from their granaries to exchange. 
 Their reverence for Smith, and their confidence in 
 him, were unbounded. They would stand aloof from 
 the fort, under cover of the woods, and call aloud his 
 name. But they would neither approach nor show 
 themselves until he had made his appearance ; nor 
 would they sell either corn, beans, or venison until 
 he had fixed their prices. 
 
 Such was the state of things when Newport re- 
 turned from England, with new emigrants, provisions, 
 and other necessaries. This man, among other un- 
 
94 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 enviable peculiarities, " was a very great and impor- 
 tant person in his own talk and conceit." " He had a 
 mean jealousy of Captain Smith, on account of his 
 brilliant qualities and the estimation in which he was 
 held by the colonists " ; and, it may be added, on 
 account of his almost limitless influence with the 
 natives. In this latter sentiment he harmonized with 
 the President and Council, of which body, it will be 
 remembered, he was one. Smith's policy of trade — 
 namely, rating English wares at the value set upon 
 them by the Indians themselves — was at once aban- 
 doned. To magnify themselves in the eyes of the 
 natives as men superior to Smith in wealth and in 
 generosity, Newport and his associates adopted a lav- 
 ish system of traffic, giving four times as much as 
 Smith had done in exchange for Indian commodities. 
 In addition, Newport scattered presents without con- 
 sideration or stint. Ruinous as this course was to the 
 interests of the colony, it secured, temporarily at least, 
 the selfish end which Newport had in view. It exalt- 
 ed him in the opinion of the natives, and in that of 
 Powhattan himself. The great chief of the Indians 
 longed to see the great chief of the English. 
 
 Accordingly, Newport and Smith arranged for a 
 visit to Werowocomoco : Newport, to enjoy the ad- 
 miration of a savage ; Smith, to strengthen the chief's 
 conviction of English power, and to confirm a good 
 understanding by friendly intercourse ; — Newport, 
 through vanity; Smith, for the public good. They 
 left Jamestown in the pinnace, with forty armed men, 
 and were accompanied by Mr. Matthew Scrivener, a 
 worthy man, who had just arrived in the colony, and 
 had been elected a member of the Council. They 
 
THE ROYAL SHARPER. 95 
 
 had hardly reached the mouth of James River, before 
 Captain Newport manifested signs of uneasiness ; for 
 " he was a man very fearful in times of danger." 
 
 " Will it do to trust these fellows, Captain Smith ? " 
 
 " The Indians ? That depends upon circumstances. 
 I would not absolutely trust them at any time." 
 
 " Well, under present circumstances ? " 
 
 " Perhaps I ought to say, not at all." 
 
 "But we are about to ! " 
 
 " Not literally, Captain Newport. So many mus- 
 kets look more like trust in ourselves." 
 
 " You cannot use a musket, Captain Smith, unless 
 you can see your mark ; and these fellows skulk. If 
 there is anything I detest, it is a creeping scoundrel 
 who will not show himself. A man may be walking 
 in those woods, fancying himself alone, until the yells 
 of the devils are in his ears, and their arrows flying, — 
 just as it was with you, sir, in Chickahominy swamp." 
 
 " That is very true, Captain Newport." 
 
 " Upon my word, Captain, that ivas a ticklish affair." 
 
 " But < all 's well that ends well,' as Will Shake- 
 speare has proved." 
 
 " O yes, Captain ; when a thing ends well, you call 
 it comedy, or romance, or what not ; but if that fel- 
 low's war-club had developed your brains, it would 
 have been simple tragedy. Not very agreeable, that 
 sort of thing. Little girls don't grow on every bush, 
 Captain Smith." 
 
 " But I see something in every bush," looking at 
 the neighboring shore. 
 
 "Do you? Faith, Captain, I thought I saw one 
 myself ! Where, sir ? " 
 
 " One ! one what, sir ? " 
 
96 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " An Indian, to be sure." 
 
 " You mistook me, sir. I said, ' I see something in 
 every bush.' I meant, sir, that I have experienced 
 the protection and deliverance of the Almighty so 
 often, and so wonderfully, that I cannot help recog- 
 nizing His presence and care everywhere." 
 
 " O, that is all well enough. Yet men do get their 
 brains knocked out, after all. But tell me plainly, 
 sir, do you think it safe to prosecute our course ? " 
 
 " Certainly I do, sir." 
 
 " Do you, Mr. Scrivener ? " 
 
 " I confide in Captain Smith's judgment and expe- 
 rience, sir. I see no danger." 
 
 " But the devil of it is, Mr. Scrivener, that among 
 these fellows one never sees it. The first he knows 
 of it, it 's on him. For my part, I think we had bet- 
 ter give up this fool's errand, before we get our necks 
 into some noose or other." 
 
 Smith saw that he was serious, and protested ; and 
 Scrivener, who was a man of good sense and cool 
 judgment, joined him. For half an hour, the matter 
 was debated warmly ; and it was not without much 
 argument and reiterated assurances that their guard 
 was sufficient security, that Newport consented to 
 proceed. At last they reached the mouth of York 
 River and the shore of Werowocomoco. The landing 
 was bad, and in Newport's eyes ominous. They 
 soon encountered a creek. 
 
 " What now ? " exclaimed Newport, as the stream, 
 half water, half ice, met his eye. " Do you take me 
 for a water-rat ? In the name of humanity, how am 
 I to get over here ? " 
 
 " By the bridge, sir." 
 
THE ROYAL SHARPER. 97 
 
 " Bridge ! what bridge ? " 
 
 " That, sir," replied Smith, suppressing a smile, 
 and pointing to a rude structure of poles and bark. 
 
 Newport looked at the affair, and then looked at 
 Captain Smith, with a half-angry, half-doubting ex- 
 pression. At length he asked, in a tone as though he 
 would solemnly appeal to Smith's honor : " Do you 
 mean to say to me, Captain Smith, that that thing 
 was ever intended for men to walk on ? " 
 
 w Certainly, sir : we must cross upon it." 
 
 " Do you suppose /will ? " 
 
 " I trust so, sir. It is a very rustic affair, but suffi- 
 cient." 
 
 " Humph ! " 
 
 " I will cross it, Captain Newport. The rest of us 
 will cross it. That will prove its safety." 
 
 This was done ; and after much persuasion, New- 
 port ventured. The frail structure shook and swayed 
 under his tread, and he carefully inspected every spot 
 upon which he was to plant his foot, until on solid 
 ground. But when they came to a second creek, 
 with another like crossing, he hung back with decis- 
 ion. He began to surmise Indian craft and treachery. 
 
 " These things are man-traps, Captain Smith. That 
 I got safely over one, is no proof that I shall get safely 
 over two." 
 
 " Captain Newport, they are the only kind of bridges 
 which these simple people have. They are built for 
 their own use." 
 
 " Not so very simple, Captain Smith. Not too 
 
 simple to be cunning. Suppose, sir, we get stuck 
 
 fast in one of these affairs, — and they look as though 
 
 we might, — up come some ten score of savages, with 
 
 9 
 
98 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 their infernal whoops, and what are we to do ? Can't 
 fight, — can't run, — a pretty scrape ! " 
 
 " Captain Newport, I have had some acquaintance 
 with Indian habits and cunning ; but this is the first 
 time I ever heard of man-traps in Virginia. Depend 
 upon it, you are mistaken, sir." 
 
 " I am not apt to be mistaken, Captain Smith. 
 Things look very much as though Powhattan had ar- 
 ranged some deviltry. For my part, I go no farther." 
 " Very well, Captain Newport. I am willing to 
 go. Retain twenty men, if you please, in the pin- 
 nace, and I will advance with twenty." 
 To this Newport consented. 
 
 Smith had proceeded but a little way, when he 
 was met by two or three hundred Indians, among 
 whom was Nantaquis, the king's son, — " the most 
 manliest, comeliest, boldest spirit I ever saw in a 
 salvage," said Smith, in his letter to Queen Anne. 
 These men were sent by Powhattan as an escort of 
 honor, and welcomed their visitor with loud shouts, 
 which must have been heard by Newport, and prob- 
 ably to his great alarm. 
 
 Powhattan received his late captive with great pa- 
 rade, in presence of his wives and chief warriors, and 
 of a guard of four or five hundred men. Proclama- 
 tion was made, warning all, on pain of death, to 
 refrain from all harm, and even discourtesy, to the 
 strangers. Powhattan gave his guest a cordial wel- 
 come, and a seat beside his own royal couch. Smith 
 entered leading a beautiful white greyhound, which, 
 with a suit of clothes of scarlet cloth and an English 
 hat, he immediately offered for the chiefs acceptance. 
 Gladly and proudly were they accepted, and with all 
 
THE ROYAL SHARPER. 99 
 
 that easy but dignified courtesy for which Powhattan 
 was remarkable. In an address uttered with unaf- 
 fected grace, he said that he received them not so 
 gladly because they were beautiful and good in them- 
 selves, as because they were beautiful and good 
 tokens of perpetual good-will between the receiver 
 and the giver. Water to wash and food were next 
 in order. 
 
 " Where is your father ? " inquired Powhattan, 
 meaning Captain Newport. 
 
 " He will visit you to-morrow " ; not doubting that 
 Newport's courage would revive when he should find 
 that his forerunner had escaped snares and ambus- 
 cade. 
 
 " Where are the great guns and the hatchet-sharp- 
 ener which you promised me ? " said the chief, archly. 
 
 " Your men were not strong enough to bring them." 
 
 " Yes, yes," with a hearty laugh ; " Rawhunt told 
 me how it was. But" — with mock gravity — "my 
 white friend should speak the truth." 
 
 " Do I not speak the truth ? " said Smith, startled, 
 and a little puzzled. 
 
 " No," with still more seriousness. 
 
 " In what do I speak untrue ? " 
 
 " My men were strong enough. The fault was in 
 the guns. They were too big." 
 
 Smith laughed in his turn ; and Powhattan added, 
 with a waggish look : " The thing can easily be done. 
 Try some that are smaller." 
 
 " But," said Smith, adopting the royal humor, " where 
 is the land which you promised me ? " 
 
 " You shall have it, you shall have it," was the 
 quick reply. " But I shall expect these warriors of 
 
100 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 yours first to lay their arms at my feet, as all my 
 subjects do." 
 
 " Our enemies demand that ; not our friends." 
 
 Smith then assured him that the English were his 
 friends, and urged him not to doubt it. He also said, 
 that, whenever Powhattan should be ready for it, the 
 English would join him to reduce to his subjection 
 the neighboring tribes his enemies. This address 
 Powhattan received with undisguised satisfaction, 
 and replied to it in a long oration, which he con- 
 cluded by creating Smith a werowance, or chief, of 
 the nation. 
 
 In such pleasant intercourse, with feasting, dancing, 
 singing, and various sports, they passed the day and 
 evening. 
 
 The next morning Newport was found by Smith. 
 Convinced that he might venture his precious life, he 
 was introduced to Powhattan and his court, and was 
 received with the same distinction and hospitality 
 which had been shown to Smith. Thus passed the 
 day. At night the English returned to the pinnace. 
 But when they were together again at breakfast, Pow- 
 hattan expressed displeasure at the presence of the 
 English soldiers. 
 
 " Why do you come with armed men to a friendly 
 talk ? Do I treat you so ? Look at my men ; they 
 have no weapons. Am I not your friend ? "Why 
 doubt me ? Why fear ? This looks as though you 
 did not trust me." 
 
 " We have no doubt and no fear," said Smith ; 
 " but it is the custom of our country, that our cap- 
 tains should always be attended by their soldiers." 
 
 Newport, ascertaining the subject of conversation, 
 
THE ROYAL SHARPER. 101 
 
 went at one stride from timidity to rash confidence ; 
 and, turning to the soldiers, he ordered them all to 
 the pinnace. 
 
 " Then I go too," said Smith. " It is necessary to 
 proper prudence." 
 
 He went. But this did not satisfy the chief. He 
 was suspicious enough not to like the idea of Smith 
 out of his sight, and with an armed force. Newport 
 then sent Mr. Scrivener to take charge of the soldiers 
 in Smith's stead. Still Powhattan murmured, until 
 his attention was diverted by the exhibition of trin- 
 kets and wares for the purpose of traffic. Three or 
 four days were now occupied with various pastimes 
 and with trade. 
 
 At last the chief himself undertook to drive a bar- 
 gain. Addressing Newport, through Smith as inter- 
 preter, he said : " I am a great prince. You are a 
 great prince." He had exalted notions of Newport's 
 civil rank. " It is beneath our princely station to buy 
 and sell and bargain. We leave such things for 
 mean men. Let us act like princes. Lay before me 
 the goods which you think would please a prince like 
 myself. I will choose what suit my mind. Then, in 
 my turn, I will lay before you their value in my goods. 
 Thus we will be satisfied with each other, and without 
 being pedlers." 
 
 This majestic proposition Smith faithfully trans- 
 lated, but added : " Beware, sir, what you do. He 
 intends to jew you." 
 
 " I know how to manage a savage, Captain Smith, 
 and am not to be jewed by one, if he does call him- 
 self a big prince. I have my wits about me." 
 
 He immediately ordered all his goods to be spread 
 
 9* 
 
102 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 out. Powhattan, with the utmost coolness, selected 
 all that he cared for ; in return for which he should 
 have given about twenty hogsheads of corn. With 
 an air of stately generosity, he gave — four bushels! 
 Newport was exceedingly nettled ; not merely because 
 he had been so brazenly outwitted, but because his 
 merchandise was now exhausted, and the supplies 
 which he intended to provide for the whole colony 
 were, by a sort of sleight of hand, reduced to four 
 bushels of corn. Done by a savage, too ! But it ivas 
 done, and the chapfallen white prince had no remedy. 
 He could only vent his irritation upon the very man 
 who had warned him. But Smith, though he resented 
 this with the spirit of a soldier, generously resolved to 
 devise some means to step between Newport and his 
 mortification. Turning the attention of the parties, 
 as if nothing unusual had happened, to some sports 
 which were going on, he suffered to be seen partially, 
 and as if by accident, some beads in his possession 
 unlike any which had been known to the Indians. 
 Powhattan's eye and fancy were caught. He sud- 
 denly forgot his dignity in his desire to trade. 
 
 " But these are jewels of great value," Smith ob- 
 jected ; " too precious for trade." 
 
 " Yet what will not friendship do ? " replied the 
 chief. " And what will not Powhattan's new wero- 
 wance, once his captive, do for the father of Poca- 
 hontas ? " 
 
 He knew human nature. But so did Smith ; and 
 he stood his ground. 
 
 « Powhattan speaks truly. His new werowance 
 cannot forget. If I could part with these to any one 
 in this country, would it not be to the father of the 
 
THE ROYAL SHARPER. 103 
 
 best and most beautiful princess in the world ? They 
 ivould look gloriously upon the neck of Pocahontas ! " 
 holding them up. " They are made of a most rare 
 and precious substance ; and see ! they are of the 
 color of the sky ! They are not worn but by the 
 greatest kings." 
 
 " Powhattan is a great king, and can give a great 
 price." 
 
 « True; but — but — " 
 
 " My new werowance was going to say — " 
 
 " He was going to say, Would not my king be 
 offended ? He does not know how great a king 
 Powhattan is." 
 
 Thus did Smith excite the cupidity and royal am- 
 bition of the chief, and manifest greater reluctance to 
 part with his precious merchandise ; while Powhattan, 
 on his part, was the more eager, and rose rapidly in 
 his offers. At last Smith was overcome. 
 
 " Powhattan did spare my life. He spared it for 
 the sake of Pocahontas. He shall have his wish," 
 adding, with great seriousness and emphasis, " for 
 Pocahontas' sake." 
 
 For a pound or two of these jewels, Smith received 
 about three hundred bushels of corn. But this was 
 not all. A new and valued article of trade was thus 
 introduced. Others of royal blood were ambitious ; 
 and sky-blue beads were purchased at enormous rates 
 by the greatest of the chiefs, for themselves, their 
 wives and children, and became privileged ornaments 
 for the nobility. 
 
 Through their whole visit, the English received 
 unbounded and even assiduous hospitality from Pow- 
 hattan. He manifested no uneasiness except on one 
 
104 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 point, that Newport and Smith would never pass the 
 day in his presence — their nights were spent on 
 board the pinnace — without more or less attendants 
 in arms. He tried repeatedly to induce them " not 
 to bring their pieces with them lest his women should 
 be frightened " ; and took particular dislike to the 
 sword and pistol which Smith always carried upon 
 his person. Newport — at what risks we cannot 
 know — would have humored the chief, but Smith 
 always contrived to be under proper guard. 
 
 After a visit of two days to Opechancanough at 
 Pamunkey, they returned to Werowocomoco ; and 
 thence, with a full freight of provisions, to Jamestown. 
 
 The weather was intensely cold ; but the settlers 
 had comfortable, though rude, dwellings for their pro- 
 tection. They gathered around their ample hearths, 
 enjoying the cheerful light and heat, while the wind 
 whistled and the sleet rattled without. Bread was 
 now plenty ; venison and wild-fowl smoked upon 
 their trenchers ; they passed their days in moderate 
 labor or in idleness, and their long evenings in songs 
 or social games, in talking of English homes, or build- 
 ing castles in the air. They had no fear of savages, 
 no fear of famine, no fear of sickness, no fear of sher- 
 iffs. This last was a special luxury to many of the 
 new-comers. Yet, while thus enjoying the present, 
 and recldess of the future, an enemy was in their 
 midst. In one of the tenements the wood was blaz- 
 ing and crackling upon the hearth, and the fire-light 
 was dancing upon the rough wall, the simple furni- 
 ture, the humble bed, and the burnished muskets. It 
 was taking an inventory of all these things. Sud- 
 
THE CONFLAGRATION. 105 
 
 denly the blaze leaped and climbed up its smoke- 
 dried chimney of sticks and clay, ran along upon the 
 roof of thatch and reeds, dropped down within, and 
 devoured all the goodly things it had looked so pleas- 
 antly upon just before. But fire is no more satisfied 
 with fuel, than the grave with its congregation ; and 
 from the ruins in which it revelled it flew to another 
 roof, and licked up all beneath it ; and then to an- 
 other, and another. It fed, too, on clothing, and bed- 
 ding, and furniture, and muskets, and swords. It 
 wound its long red arms around the granaries, and 
 laughed and danced over every kernel which Newport 
 had brought from Werowocomoco. It did not spare 
 even the dwelling of " good Master Hunt," the de- 
 voted preacher and peacemaker of the settlement, but 
 made havoc and ashes of all the worthy man's books, 
 — his only comforts and true companions in the wil- 
 derness, except his God. There were only three 
 things of his which the fire did not touch, — the 
 clothing on his back, the peace of God in his heart, 
 and his house eternal in the heavens. The " gentle- 
 men " swore over their losses, which time might re- 
 place ; but Master Hunt, though he was poor and 
 could get no more books, had not a heart to murmur, 
 for the voice of Jesus whispered within, and there was 
 a great calm there. They raved over the destruction 
 of their provisions ; but Master Hunt had bread to 
 eat which they knew not of. They fretted under 
 bereavement; he quieted and comforted himself as 
 a child that is weaned of his mother. 
 
 Such is the difference, on the sea of life, between 
 the filial and the unfilial. 
 
 It was truly a melancholy sight, — the little clear- 
 ing in the wilderness blackened with the smoking 
 
106 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 ruins of so many habitations, — of so much which is 
 essential in a biting winter to the comfort and life of 
 men far from their country, and surrounded by inter- 
 minable forests. It did require some nerve, and strong 
 faith in God, and a chastened spirit, for a man to 
 stand there half clad, shelterless, shivering, grubbing 
 in the ashes for half-burnt corn, yet composed and un- 
 repining and hopeful. And it did require some dar- 
 ing, and some searing of the heart, for a man to stand 
 there upbraiding the only Power who could bring 
 relief. Yet some did it; lacking against the goad, 
 rather than kiss the rod. 
 
 The fire had spared much ; some of their dwellings, 
 their ammunition, and food enough to sustain them, 
 with economy, for the present. 
 
 But now came a worse calamity. The same in- 
 sanity which makes men forget and distrust the true 
 God, makes them weary themselves, for very vanity, 
 in slaving to the god of this world. Mammon had 
 prompted a large proportion of the last immigrants, 
 — " serving-men, libertines, bankrupts in character, 
 bankrupts in fortune," outcasts from the drawing- 
 room, the tap-room, the brothel, — greedy for gold, and 
 dreaming that it might be had in Virginia for the 
 gathering. To help them to their visionary fortunes, 
 they had brought with them two goldsmiths, two re- 
 finers, and one jeweller. 
 
 Their god drave them to their tasks. " Lo ! here is 
 gold, — here, at your gate, — here, in this little rivu- 
 let in the woods. See, how it glitters ! Dig, — dig, 
 — dig. Dig, and regain your fortunes. Dig, and 
 renew your riotous living." 
 
 It did glitter there, — in the bed of the brook, and 
 along its brink, and in the stones and rocks on its 
 
GOLD. 107 
 
 banks, — in small particles, but abundant, yellow as 
 heart could wish, and bright with promise. 
 
 " It is gold ! it is gold ! " said Newport and Martin. 
 
 " It is gold," said the goldsmiths. 
 
 " It is gold," said the refiners, as they came out 
 from their secret "trials." 
 
 " Until you can show me a more substantial trial, I 
 am not enamored of your dirty skill," said Captain 
 Smith ; and so said Mr. Scrivener ; and so, perhaps, a 
 few others. 
 
 But the vote was " Gold." And the order was, 
 " Work, men, work ! A fig for house-building ! 
 Delve, shovel, wheel, and carry." So the men worked 
 and shovelled and carried, with stinted food and 
 stinted sleep and stinted quarters, through some ten 
 or twelve weeks of winter cold; and the ship was 
 loaded with sparkling treasure, to be discharged and 
 purified and coined in England. Thither it went, 
 and there it was discharged, — a cargo of mud and 
 mica added to the bulk of Britain ! 
 
 Mammon is a despot; his gifts, the apples of 
 Sodom. 
 
 The scanty supplies of grain which the fire had 
 spared were mostly taken for the home-bound sailors ; 
 for the bait of Satan had kept them there fourteen 
 weeks instead of fourteen days, and the ship's stores 
 were exhausted. The colonists were left hungry and 
 faint ; living on a daily dole of meal and water, " wild 
 fruits of the earth, crabs, muscles, and such like " ; 
 worn with toil ; suffering from cold and wet, in mis- 
 erable and crowded shelters. Before spring opened, 
 there were many added to the row of graves which 
 began with the murdered boy, and where Stevens 
 and Gosnold lay. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 
 
 Radcliffe, the President, was a weak-minded and 
 indolent man, who thought it beneath his official dig- 
 nity to leave the fort. Martin's ill-health, and his 
 rage for gold, rendered him for all useful purposes 
 a cipher. With them were associated others, form- 
 ing & strong party, jealous of the enterprise and influ- 
 ence of Captain Smith, disposed to thwart his plans, 
 and more zealous for their own ease and indulgence, 
 than for the protection and thrift of the common- 
 wealth. Thus every task necessary to safety, com- 
 fort, and prosperity depended upon the counsels and 
 activity of Smith, Scrivener, and some of the sub- 
 stantial colonists whom good sense and manliness 
 united with them. By their means, when Newport 
 and his cargo were gone, the ground was planted, 
 and new buildings were erected on the ruins of the 
 old. While engaged in this latter task, they were 
 cheered by a new arrival. 
 
 The barque Phoenix, Captain Nelson, had left Eng- 
 land in company with Newport, but had been dis- 
 masted, driven to the West Indies, and detained there 
 through the winter. She now brought the remainder 
 of the colonists sent out under Newport's charge, the 
 number in both ships being a hundred and twenty. 
 She also brought stores for the colonists sufficient for 
 
THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 109. 
 
 six months. She was discharged and reloaded with 
 all possible despatch; taking in a cargo of cedar, 
 which the joint and strenuous efforts of Smith, Scrive- 
 ner, and their associates, aided by Nelson, secured 
 for her, in opposition to the counsels and adherents of 
 Martin, who would have loaded her with yellow mica. 
 She left for her return on the 2d of June. During her 
 stay certain events occurred which deserve notice. 
 
 As Captain Smith was one day inspecting the out- 
 of-door affairs of the colony, at some little distance 
 from the fort, he caught a glimpse of two Indians 
 skulking in the edge of the forest near him. 
 
 u Ha ! the thieves again ! " 
 
 He had hardly said the words before the Indians 
 leaped from their cover, painted and armed as if on a 
 war-path. They strode fiercely towards him, and 
 appeared as if intending to make him their prisoner. 
 The demonstration was not to be mistaken. Smith 
 was alone, and without weapons. Throwing himself 
 into an attitude which denoted both his fearlessness 
 and his defiance, " Welcome, braves ! " said he with 
 coolness. " I did think you were common thieves, 
 sneaking about like cowardly women and weak boys. 
 I was wrong. You are warriors, — wwcommon 
 thieves. You would steal me, would you ? " 
 
 " The white werowance must go with us." 
 
 " Then take him " ; and Smith bent upon them a 
 look which said more than his words. 
 
 The men seemed awed, but advanced. Smith 
 moved leisurely and warily towards the fort, keeping 
 his eye full upon his assailants. They now seemed to 
 take courage. One came upon him on one side, the 
 other upon the other, brandishing their war-clubs, 
 10 
 
110 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 and then running round and round him as if deter- 
 mined to bring him to the ground ; or, as Smith after- 
 wards described it, " circling about mee, as though 
 the\ would have clubbed mee like a hare." But he 
 steadily and composedly continued his way to the 
 fort, so far overawing them that they dared not strike ; 
 while they were so eager in their object, that they 
 danced attendance upon his person, even within the 
 palisades, and were joined by some sixteen others. 
 Smith instantly ordered the gates to be closed. The 
 whole number, surprised at a measure so utterly at 
 variance with the late remissness of the garrison, were 
 seized by the soldiers and imprisoned. Their asso- 
 ciates without the fort respectfully opened a negotia- 
 tion for their release. 
 
 Smith replied : " Bring back all the swords, spades, 
 shovels, and other tools which you have stolen from 
 us, and your men shall go free. Otherwise, I will 
 hang them." 
 
 " We have just caught two of your men in the 
 woods," was the retort, " and will treat them as you 
 treat ours." 
 
 li Will you, indeed ! Throw open the gates, men ! " 
 
 He instantly sallied with his soldiers, whom of late 
 he had kept under regular drill with special reference 
 to Indian warfare ; and, though he shed no blood, 
 so frightened the Indians without by his military 
 array, that the two English truants were given up, 
 and peace was implored without conditions. 
 
 In this Smith was acting upon his own responsi- 
 bility, contrary to the indolent temper of the Council, 
 and the directions of the Company to give no offence to 
 the natives. He had been compelled to do so, however, 
 
THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. Ill 
 
 by the insufferable encroachments of the natives them- 
 selves. Suddenly, and without apparent cause, they 
 had commenced a regular system of thieving ; at first 
 slyly, but soon with more and more boldness, until 
 they had even ventured upon violent means. This 
 was well known to the President and Council ; but 
 they preferred safety and ease in their own houses, 
 and had suffered the evil to grow without resenting it. 
 Smith, though highly indignant at this state of things, 
 had allowed them to take their own course until he 
 was personally interfered with. One fellow whom he 
 had briefly imprisoned for sword-stealing, afterwards 
 attacked him, aided by three others, threatening his 
 life. But he had made them smart for their audaci- 
 ty ; and merely this one instance of rigorous treat- 
 ment had caused a temporary suspension of thievish 
 practice, and even a voluntary restoration of some 
 articles which had been taken. But the depredations 
 had soon been resumed, and with more boldness than 
 before. 
 
 The present assault upon his person Smith resolved 
 to turn to account, and to prosecute the affair accord- 
 ing to his own notions of wise policy, and after his 
 own fashion. He would throw himself alone and un- 
 authorized into the breach, rather than expose the 
 colony to the loss of tools and arms, and, ultimately, 
 to extinction. He proceeded, therefore, to deal with 
 his prisoners as though supreme power had been vest- 
 ed in himself alone. He transferred the Indians to 
 the Phoenix, and there placed them in ward. Select- 
 ing one of them, he removed him from his compan- 
 ions to the hold of the vessel, accompanied by six 
 soldiers with their muskets. In that gloomy place, 
 
112 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 lighted only by a solitary lantern, he established his 
 court, assuming to himself the office of Grand In- 
 quisitor. Without a word spoken, and with great 
 solemnity, the culprit was bound securely to the 
 mainmast. At a signal, the soldiers levelled their 
 glittering muskets at his breast, and waited. The 
 poor wretch quivered as he looked at those iron 
 mouths and at the determined countenance of his 
 judge. After an impressive pause, Smith addressed 
 the offender. 
 
 " Macanor ! you are a counsellor of Paspahegh," — 
 one of Powhattan's tributary chiefs. " You therefore 
 know something which I must know, or you die." 
 
 " Macanor does not fear to die." 
 
 " Then — " the sentence ended by a look at the 
 muskets. 
 
 " But — " 
 
 " But what ? Speak quickly." 
 
 " Macanor would die under the blue sky and in battle." 
 
 " No words. Answer me, or die here." 
 
 " What would the white chief know ? " 
 
 " Why do Powhattan's subjects steal my swords 
 and the tools of my men ? " 
 
 " Because he orders it." 
 
 " What has been done with them ? " 
 
 " All have been given to Powhattan." 
 
 « Why does he order them to be stolen, if he is my 
 friend ? " 
 
 " The English werowance has offended Pow- 
 hattan." 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 " When your father [Newport] went away to his 
 country, Powhattan sent him a present of twenty 
 
THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 113 
 
 turkeys, for which he received twenty swords. He 
 sent turkeys to you, and you gave him no swords." 
 
 " Did 1 send him nothing ? " 
 
 u Jewels and other pleasant things, such as you 
 chose, but not what he chose. Powhattan wanted 
 swords." 
 
 " For what ? " 
 
 After a moment's hesitation, the Indian answered 
 in a stammering way : " To fight his enemies, the 
 Monacans." 
 
 Smith saw that this was an invention to mask the 
 truth, and replied sternly : " Macanor ! I have not 
 brought you here to tell me lies. I will have the 
 truth, or — " pointing to his soldiers. " I am no 
 woman, Macanor, to be fooled with. Answer me 
 the truth, Why does Powhattan want the swords of 
 the English ? " 
 
 " Because they are better than war-clubs." 
 
 " And because he would kill us with them ? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " I see, Macanor, that you choose to die in this 
 dark hole, like a dog, and to be thrown to the fishes." 
 
 " Because — " 
 
 " Silence, Macanor ! I ask you no more questions. 
 Tell me all you know about Powhattan's plots. Tell 
 me straight along, or you die where you stand ! Speak 
 or not, as you will." 
 
 Macanor chose wisely ; although Smith had no 
 intention of taking life. He now stated rapidly, but 
 distinctly, that Powhattan and all his chiefs had long 
 arranged a plan for the destruction of the English ; 
 that this had been done before Smith's capture, which 
 was a part of the scheme ; that nothing but their 
 10* 
 
114 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 dread of his supernatural powers, and the interference 
 of Pocahontas, had saved his life ; that Powhattan, 
 conscious of his inability to cope with English weap- 
 ons, was anxious to obtain them and use them against 
 their owners ; that Powhattan and all his chiefs had 
 agreed to pretend friendship with the English until 
 the return of Newport, who was then to be enticed to 
 a feast and slain, while other parties of the English 
 were to be enticed in other directions to meet the 
 same fate. 
 
 " That is all, I suppose, Macanor ? " 
 
 " It is all." 
 
 " You have done well to save your life, and shall 
 soon go free." 
 
 Macanor was unbound, and taken to an apartment 
 by himself ; and a volley of musketry was fired from 
 the deck, to intimidate the other prisoners, who could 
 hear, but not see. They were then led in their turn, 
 one by one, to the hold, and underwent a like exam- 
 ination. By some of them, the statement of Macanor 
 respecting the conspiracy was confirmed, and all 
 agreed in saying that Powhattan received the tools 
 and swords. 
 
 " These fellows have made an important confession, 
 Mr. Scrivener," said Captain Smith, after narrating 
 what had just transpired on shipboard. 
 
 " Thanks to your shrewdness and resolution, Cap- 
 tain. But what shall we do with them now ? " 
 
 " Keep them for a while." 
 
 " Radcliffe and his friends are already clamoring at 
 what we have done." 
 
 " Mr. Scrivener, so long as the President sees no 
 present danger, or other emergency, he is full of com- 
 
THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 115 
 
 plaints about me. But the moment trouble comes, 
 he cries, ' Where is Captain Smith ? ' or, < Captain 
 Smith, do see to this business.' So it will be now, 
 when he finds that he would doubtless have had his 
 throat cut, or his brains clubbed, or his scalp taken, 
 but for the course I have pursued. Yet he will make 
 it a matter of complaint against me in England. 
 However, that is neither here nor there. If he will 
 not protect the colony, we must." 
 
 " Why would you detain these men ? " 
 
 " It may excite some salutary fear in Powhattan. 
 At least, it will show him that we are no longer to be 
 wronged with impunity." 
 
 The next day Scrivener entered Captain Smith's 
 apartment, saying : "You were right, sir ; Pow- 
 hattan has sent to ask grace." 
 
 " So soon ! What grace ? " 
 
 " That his men be set at liberty. He says he is 
 your very good friend, and hopes you will overlook 
 the wrong which some of his rash and disorderly cap- 
 tains have done in instigating their men to theft, and 
 begs your acceptance of a few turkeys, as a token of 
 his love." 
 
 " Very affectionate, and very innocent ! He did 
 not send to Eadcliffe ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; his greetings are expressly and only to 
 his dear friend Captain Smith, and — he honors me 
 by the association — Mr. Scrivener. Who do you 
 think is his messenger ? " 
 
 "Rawhunt? The fellow is a natural diplomatist, 
 — a heathen Jesuit ; ugly as sin in face and form, 
 but oily of speech as the great Tempter." 
 
 " You are mistaken, sir. He has sent the English 
 
116 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 lad whom Captain Newport gave him, — Thomas 
 Salvage." 
 
 " Ha ! The cunning old chief either intended a 
 compliment, or thought he had sent a messenger 
 whom we should be sure to return. Would it not 
 be well, Mr. Scrivener, to spurn the compliment and 
 keep the lad ? Suppose we lock him up, sir ? " 
 
 " A significant way of showing defiance." 
 
 " Please put him under guard, then ; and the tur- 
 keys, too, Mr. Scrivener." 
 
 Less than twenty-four hours had elapsed, when a 
 private conference of the two gentlemen was inter- 
 rupted by a soldier, who announced another embassy 
 from Powhattan, and at the same moment introduced 
 the ill-visaged and deformed Rawhunt and the beau- 
 tiful Pocahontas. The maiden entered in her usual 
 quiet and confiding way, coaxing along a little cosset 
 deer which seemed shy of entering so strange a place. 
 
 " I have brought you a friend of mine, Captain 
 Smith," said she, frankly extending one hand while 
 she patted her pet with the other. " See how tame 
 she is. There ! she nibbles out of my hand, — see ! " 
 looking up in his face. " You may call her Poca- 
 hontas." 
 
 Captain Smith had a gloomy and care-worn brow 
 before she entered, and so had Scrivener. But every 
 shadow disappeared when they saw this light-hearted 
 and artless child. 
 
 " Thank you," said Smith, taking her by the hand. 
 " But there is only one Pocahontas." 
 
 " Only one real one. But you could call this one 
 Pocahontas, in play you know ; and that would make 
 you think of the real one — away." 
 
THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 117 
 
 " You would like to have me call it so ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then I will, to please you ; but I can think of 
 you without." 
 
 "O, I know you could; but then* not so often. 
 Now, when I go out in the evening, and look up 
 through the trees and see the stars, I think of you, 
 when I should n't perhaps if it were not for the stars." 
 
 " But the stars, — how do they make you think 
 of me ? " 
 
 " Why, when I see them, how can I help thinking 
 of Captain Smith's God, who put them there ? And 
 do you suppose I don't think of Captain Smith then ? 
 Now, if you say to this little creature, ' Pocahontas ! ' 
 and she looks up in your face, — there ! see her, see 
 her now, Captain Smith ! — then do you suppose 
 you won't think of the other Pocahontas ? Be- 
 sides — " 
 
 " Captain Smith," interrupted Rawhunt, with an 
 impatient gesture, " that deer is a present to you from 
 Powhattan. I know not why his daughter — " 
 
 Smith's zmgracious look interrupted and somewhat 
 disconcerted Rawhunt, but not so much as the look 
 of the maiden. The bright light of her countenance 
 and the unstudied ease of her attitude were gone. 
 The child stood up an offended princess ; the warrior 
 shrunk to a culprit. She said nothing, but the amaze- 
 ment and rebuke expressed in her large, dark eye and 
 erect form were enough. Rawhunt, by the slightest 
 sign, indicated a sense of his fault, and it received no 
 further notice. 
 
 " Besides," resumed Pocahontas, as though she had 
 not been interrupted, " the little creature will remind 
 
118 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 you of Powhattan, for he sent it and me to you as 
 signs of his love ; and my men here have brought 
 you a store of bread also from him. Accept all in 
 kindness, and believe me," she added, earnestly, " my 
 father is your* friend. Those who have stolen your 
 weapons he will punish." 
 
 " The little daughter of Powhattan is a peace- 
 maker," said Smith, turning to Scrivener. 
 
 " He who made the stars," he replied, addressing 
 the maiden, with a look of intense interest, — " He 
 who made the stars said, * Happy are the peace- 
 makers ! ' " 
 
 " Happy ! yes, Pocahontas will be happy if she 
 make peace. Captain Smith's God said true. Pow- 
 hattan's men have done wrong ; but he asks that you 
 would let them go free." 
 
 Smith gravely shook his head. 
 
 Pocahontas turned to Scrivener, as if asking his in- 
 tercession ; for she knew that he was Smith's friend, 
 and that both were the chief men of the English. But 
 Scrivener held his peace. After a moment's pause, 
 Pocahontas gently laid her hand upon Smith's arm, 
 and looked earnestly in his eye, saying : " Have you 
 not told me that what your God says is good ? " 
 
 » Yes." 
 
 " And that we should mind him ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You told me something — what was it ? — that 
 He says we must say about wicked folks. It was — 
 it was — I don't think now ; but it was in Our 
 Father." 
 
 Smith was a little disturbed; but he readily and 
 gravely replied : " It is not because your father's sub- 
 
THE LITTLE AMBASSADRESS. 119 
 
 jects have trespassed against me that I do not forgive 
 them, but because they do wrong to my brothers the 
 English." 
 
 " Yes, forgive, — that is it. I thought — I thought 
 we ought to forgive those who do wrong. But Poca- 
 hontas will learn. Rawhunt ! speak your message." 
 
 " Powhattan bids me say," said the warrior, " that 
 the wrongs which have been done to your people 
 have not been done at his bidding, but by the orders 
 of some of his captains who are unruly. He asks 
 that you would therefore excuse him for the injuries, 
 and let his subjects go, who did but obey their chiefs. 
 Powhattan would not send to you the child whom he 
 most loves, did he not love you. Let his men go 
 free, and he will always love." 
 
 " Yes, he will," interposed Pocahontas. " But you 
 will send him the English boy again, — will you not? 
 Powhattan loves him very much," — and her eyes 
 moistened as she looked up. 
 
 " Powhattan is a — It is too late for Powhattan 
 to think of— » 
 
 Captain Smith spoke in an excited tone ; but as 
 he saw those tearful eyes, he checked himself, hesi- 
 tated, stopped, and then recommenced, saying calmly : 
 " Mr. Scrivener, we can think of this matter ; and 
 Powhattan's daughter shall be gratified, if it can be." 
 
 " The chief Opechancanough ! " said a soldier, en- 
 tering the room. 
 
 The stately king of Pamunkey advanced with 
 great respect, and entered his plea ; assuring the two 
 gentlemen of his sincere friendship, and utterly dis- 
 avowing all connivance with the injuries done to the 
 English. He added, that some of the prisoners were 
 
120 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 his friends and subjects, and earnestly entreated their 
 liberty. 
 
 " The request of Opechancanough is heard," said 
 Smith, coldly ; and adding, with marked significance, 
 " it will not be forgotten." 
 
 When the chief had gone, Captain Smith took 
 " the king's dearest daughter " by the hand, and 
 signing to Scrivener and u the most trustie messen- 
 ger Rawhunt," he walked silently into the esplanade 
 of the fort, where he gave orders that the prisoners 
 should be conducted under guard to meet him and 
 his company in the little church. This done, a pray- 
 er was offered, — for what particular purpose does 
 not appear. Captain Smith then addressed those 
 who were present, saying : — 
 
 " These men, the subjects of Powhattan, are my 
 prisoners. I seized them only because they were 
 trying to seize me, and, probably, to take my life. 
 They deserve punishment, perhaps death. Yet not 
 a hair of their heads have I hurt. They are in my 
 power. I can easily have them killed, that they 
 trouble me no more. But I spare them. I let 
 them go home to their wives and children. 
 
 " It is not," turning to the prisoners, " because I 
 fear to take your lives. It is not because you do not 
 deserve flogging, or hanging, or both. It is not be- 
 cause the king of Pamunkey has desired me to let 
 you go, nor because Powhattan has desired it, but 
 because the dear daughter of Powhattan has desired 
 it. I give you to her. I owe Powhattan nothing. 
 I owe Opechancanough nothing. I owe to Poca- 
 hontas my life. 
 
 " How can I refuse you," dropping his stern tone 
 
THE YOUNG AMBASSADRESS. 121 
 
 for one of manly tenderness as he took the hand of 
 Pocahontas, — " how can I refuse the preserver of my 
 life ? Take them, my child. They are yours. You 
 can give them to Powhattan if you choose, but I give 
 them only to you. When your father's subjects cease 
 to molest us, they will find that they have no better 
 friend than Captain Smith." 
 
 The little maid looked her gratitude and thanks as 
 he spoke, and followed, with a step expressive of 
 childlike joy, as he led her through the door of the 
 church to the gate of the fort. Here the bows, ar- 
 rows, and other effects of the prisoners, were restored 
 to them ; and they themselves were formally deliv- 
 ered, with other suitable gifts, to u the king's dearest 
 daughter," who led them, with a happy face and a 
 bounding heart, to Werowocomoco. 
 
 Scrivener alluded to Smith's unfinished invective 
 against Powhattan, with which he had begun to reply 
 to Rawhunt's address. 
 
 " For my life," was his answer, " I would not be 
 the one needlessly to expose a father's dishonor to a 
 trustful and loving child. The man who could wan- 
 tonly do it would deserve eternal execration. The 
 child does not yet suspect her father's treachery and 
 lies ; and when the veil is torn away from the eyes of 
 a creature so pure-minded and noble-hearted as she, 
 God forbid that mine should be the hand to do it." 
 
 The internal affairs of the colony demanded vigi- 
 lance and correction no less than their external. The 
 Indian offenders had no sooner been dismissed, than it 
 became necessary to discipline the faction of RadclifTe 
 and Martin. These unprincipled men, like the former 
 President, Wingfield, had indulged their own palates 
 11 
 
122 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 at the expense of the workingmen and invalids of the 
 colony. They had put lock and key upon the public 
 stores, serving their own tables bountifully, and deal- 
 ing out to the sick and hungry their daily sustenance 
 only in return for so much value received. Such was 
 their infamous conduct before the arrival of Nelson, 
 and such it continued to be. The evil had become 
 intolerable. Smith and Scrivener now took vigorous 
 measures against it, and did not rest until they had 
 wrenched the keys of the public stock from these rapa- 
 cious and shameless men, and forced them to their 
 own proper proportion and quality of food. 
 
 Thus there were the planting of corn, the rebuild- 
 ing of their hamlet, the discipline of the Indians, the 
 enforcement of common decency and common hones- 
 ty upon Radcliffe, and the reloading of the Phoenix, 
 all upon the hands of Smith and Scrivener at once. 
 These things accomplished, Smith embarked, with fif- 
 teen men, in a barge of between two and three tons 
 burden, to explore "the Mother of Waters," the 
 Chesapeake. He dropped down the river in company 
 with the Phoenix, which sailed on the 2d day of June, 
 1608. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE CORONATION. — GENTLEMEN AT WORK 
 
 There was always trouble in Jamestown when 
 John Smith was away. He found it so when he re- 
 turned on the 21st of July. All those who had been 
 left by Nelson were sick ; and sick and well were full 
 of wrath against the President, and ready for mutiny. 
 He had again seized upon the public stores, again 
 embezzled and wasted them in riotous indulgence ; 
 had been guilty of cruelty in his administration ; and 
 had tasked the colonists in building a house for his 
 personal comfort, in the woods, where he might live 
 undisturbed by the sufferings and complaints of others. 
 The hearts of the colonists revived at the appearance 
 of Smith ; and the violence of their rage was so far 
 subdued by the supplies which he brought, and by his 
 personal influence, that they were content with hav- 
 ing RadclifFe merely deposed from office. But upon 
 this they clamorously insisted ; and also that Smith 
 should be instated in his place, for he was the only 
 man among them who could keep the settlement in 
 order. He was bent upon further exploration ; and 
 again left for that purpose on the 24th, appointing 
 Mr. Scrivener as his deputy during his absence, which 
 was protracted until the 7th of September. 
 
 During these two excursions, the whole of the 
 Chesapeake Bay had been explored, on either shore, 
 
 
124 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 to the mouth of the Susquehannah ; the principal riv- 
 ers, the Poconoke, the Patuxent, the Patapsco, the 
 Rappahannock, the Piankatunk, the Elizabeth, and 
 the Nansemond, had been penetrated as far as circum- 
 stances would allow ; intercourse had been opened 
 with various tribes ; provisions had been purchased, 
 or procured as amends for unprovoked hostilities ; 
 dangerous storms on the water, intense heat, and sick- 
 ness had been encountered; a weary, disheartened, 
 refractory crew had been soothed, encouraged, re- 
 strained, and stimulated ; many privations and suffer- 
 ings had been endured ; an excellent map — still in 
 existence — of the entire Chesapeake Bay had been 
 constructed; more than three thousand miles had 
 been traversed; and three months of time and toil 
 had been expended. One man had died, and was 
 buried on the shores of the Rappahannock. While at 
 the mouth of this river, Captain Smith was struck on 
 the wrist by the poisonous thorn of a fish called the 
 stingray. Within four hours he was in a condition 
 hopeless of life. He selected the spot for his own 
 burial, and at his order his grave was dug by his men. 
 But the application of an oil, and the probing of the 
 wound, by Dr. Russell, one of the party, effected a 
 sudden recovery. Smith ate of the fish for supper. 
 The place where this occurred is to this day called 
 Stingray Point, in commemoration of the event. 
 
 Wherever Captain Smith was in command, God 
 was recognized and acknowledged. By daily relig- 
 ious services, he kept alive in his own mind, and in 
 tne minds of his men, a sense of dependence upon 
 Divine protection, and of obligation for Divine mer- 
 cies. Thus, throughout this whole tour of exploration, 
 
THE CORONATION. 125 
 
 wherever the wanderers sought their natural rest, they 
 joined in the social worship of God. The silence of 
 the wilderness was broken by the voice of then 
 prayer, and the gloom of the forest by their hymn of 
 praise. The wild men gathered around them, and 
 listened with reverence ; for, though they did not un- 
 derstand the words, they could comprehend the act, 
 of devotion ; and they caught its spirit too, and some- 
 times responded to the Christian's song by such sol- 
 emn chants as they had learned in the great temple 
 of Nature. 
 
 There were many, just recovering from sickness, 
 who crept feebly from their doors to welcome Smith 
 at his return ; many who could only give him a fever- 
 ish hand and a languid smile as he stood by their 
 bedsides ; and many, who had bidden him God-speed 
 when he went away, gave him no greeting now, for 
 they lay unconscious and mute in their graves. 
 
 Arrangements had been made at Smith's last de- 
 parture for none but necessary labor in the colony 
 during the heat of summer ; consequently nothing of 
 importance had been effected except the gathering of 
 the crop, under the direction of Mr. Scrivener. Rad- 
 cliffe, however, had found his private station and his 
 vulgar rations so irksome, that he had endeavored to 
 raise a mutiny ; in consequence of which he was now 
 still farther reduced, to the quarters and fare of a 
 prison. 
 
 Smith assumed the duties of his office as President 
 on the 10th of the month, the third day after his 
 return. He acted with his habitual vigor, erecting 
 new buildings which were needed, repairing the old, 
 strengthening and altering the fort, and regularly drill- 
 11* 
 
126 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 ing in military exercises all who were not incapaci- 
 tated by sickness. 
 
 Captain Newport now arrived, bringing a recruit to 
 the colony of seventy persons ; two of whom were 
 Englishwomen, — Mrs. Forrest, and Anne Burras, 
 her maid. Two others were " ancient souldiers and 
 valiant gentlemen, but yet ignorant of the businis," — 
 Captain Richard Waldo and Captain "Wynne. They 
 were appointed, and duly sworn in, as members of 
 the Council. 
 
 But Captain Newport also brought some silly things 
 from the CounciHn England, who fancied themselves 
 — under the advices of the very man who had loaded 
 their ship with worthless dirt — competent to judge of 
 all the wants, the resources, the capabilities, and the 
 geography of an infant settlement in a boundless wil- 
 derness three thousand miles away. First, there were 
 a party of Germans and Poles, sent to manufacture 
 pitch, tar, potash, and glass, in a community where 
 one farmer would have been worth them all, and 
 where every hand and muscle was needed to supply 
 subsistence. Second, there was a barge, constructed 
 in five parts, in which the colonists were ordered to 
 proceed as far as possible up some river flowing into 
 the Atlantic; thence to carry it piecemeal on their 
 shoulders over the mountains, there put it together, 
 get into it, and just float down the westerly flowing 
 streams into the Pacific ! Third, there were a basin, 
 a ewer, a bed, a bedstead, a chair of state, a suit of 
 scarlet clothes, a cloak, and a croivn, for Powhattan ! 
 Fourth, there was a special commission in Newport's 
 pocket, authorizing him to act, in certain cases, inde- 
 pendently of the Council, and requiring him to bring 
 
THE CORONATION. 127 
 
 back either some certain information of the Pacific 
 Ocean, or a lump of gold, or some one of the lost 
 colony sent out by Sir Walter Raleigh, twenty-one 
 years before!* 
 
 Notwithstanding all the common-sense arguments 
 which Smith urged against these preposterous schemes, 
 the Council resolved to prosecute them. Indeed, com- 
 mon sense had had very little to do with the whole 
 colonial enterprise from its beginning. An insane 
 passion for sudden wealth shaped the entire policy of 
 the Company. When, however, the projects which 
 Smith's judgment condemned and his soul loathed, 
 as detrimental to the vital interests of the colony, 
 were once determined upon, he did all in his power 
 to forward their prosecution. 
 
 The proud and wary Powhattan would not go to 
 Jamestown to receive a crown, — not he ! — the crown 
 might come to him ! Being himself a king, he would 
 not fail in kingly courtesy to a peer. He would there- 
 fore wait eight days at Werowocomoco to receive 
 that which, as he was told, James of England had 
 sent him. Newport, therefore, went, — Mahomet to 
 the mountain, — and Powhattan was crowned ! The 
 ceremony, too silly to be even laughable, does not 
 deserve recital. It had two evil results, however, both 
 of which Smith foresaw, and the latter of which he 
 predicted, — it gratified the vanity of Newport, as 
 
 * A colony of a hundred persons had been left on the island of Ro- 
 anoke, by Captain White, under the auspices of Sir Walter Raleigh, in 
 1587, and were never heard of afterwards. One of their number, Eleanor 
 Dare, "gave birth to a female child, the first offspring of English parents 
 on the soil of the United States. The infant was named, from the place 
 of its birth, Virginia Dare." 
 
128 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 master of ceremonies, and inflated Powhattan with 
 the idea that he was of great consequence in the esti- 
 mation of the English. 
 
 Newport now went to find corn, gold, Raleigh's 
 colonists, and the Pacific ! He took a hundred and 
 twenty men, a pinnace, and all the boats but one, 
 which, with eighty or ninety men, he left with Smith 
 to serve the fort and load the vessel. He went u thir- 
 tie myles" above the Falls. Thence, three whole 
 days of land travel, and yet found no corn, no gold, 
 no Englishmen, and no ocean ! He brought back his 
 men, however, " halfe sicke, all complayning and tyred 
 with toyle, famine, and discontent." This also agreed 
 with what Smith had predicted. 
 
 Close upon the river's bank, about five miles below 
 the settlement, the forest was ringing with the sounds 
 of cheerful industry. The Anglo-Saxon, with his in- 
 domitable enterprise, was there, humbling the princes 
 of the woods. Huge pines which had stood, and 
 towered toward heaven, and buffeted tempests, and 
 given shelter to the eagle and her young, long, long 
 before he was born, had confessed his power, and 
 fallen crownless at his feet. The work was yet in 
 progress. A dozen axes were chipping asunder trees 
 still standing, while others were lopping the branches 
 of the fallen. Thirty Englishmen were scattered here 
 and there in groups ; some of them lustily at work, — 
 some of them lolling wearily upon the ground ; 
 some of them hardy, muscular men, accustomed to 
 toil, — many of them evidently more familiar with the 
 drawing-room and boudoir, than with the rough life 
 of the wilderness. Near the water was a conical 
 
GENTLEMEN AT WORK. 129 
 
 structure of boughs laid densely one over another, 
 the extremity of each pointing downwards, and giv- 
 ing shelter to various implements of labor. There 
 were long two-handled saws, and huge mallets, and 
 iron wedges, adzes, drawing-knives, &c, besides mus- 
 kets and pistols and swords, two kettles, a gridiron, 
 and other cooldng utensils. Near this wigwam a 
 moderate fire was burning upon the ground, high over 
 which was a stout horizontal pole, supported at either 
 end by forked stakes, with a chain dangling from its 
 centre. A young man sat against a tree within some 
 twenty feet of the fire, his hands wrapped in bandages, 
 and intent upon the motions of a companion, who was 
 artistically feeling the edge of a large knife, his shirt- 
 sleeves rolled to his shoulder, and his arms stained 
 with blood. The latter had- certainly a very savage 
 and murderous appearance, yet he was a very harm- 
 less fellow. 
 
 " You '11 do," said he, as he touched the edge for 
 the last time with his thumb ; and, whistling a brisk 
 march, he advanced to the carcass of a deer which 
 hung from a neighboring tree, and cut from it several 
 large slices of flesh with evident satisfaction. 
 
 " That was a lucky shot of yours, Stimpson ! " said 
 the young man upon the ground. " It spares you, 
 the while, from swinging the axe." 
 
 " Are n't yer a graceless fellow, Mr. Russel," said 
 the other, pausing from his employment ; " thinkin' o' 
 nothin' but restin' and eatin' ! " 
 
 " Whew ! " exclaimed Russel, " how can you tell 
 what a man thinks of before he tells you himself? " 
 
 " By his looks and actions. There y' ve set all the 
 time I 've been a takin' off this skin, a doin' nothin' 
 
130 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 under the sun but jest lookin' at yer hands and this 
 ere deer. If that is n't as much as to say that yer 
 thinkin' o' restin' and eatin', I should like to know ? " 
 
 « Well, I was." 
 
 " There, now, war n't I right ? " 
 
 " No : you said I was thinking of nothing else" 
 
 " An' I 'm a thinkin', Mr. Russel, that, instead o' 
 scowlin' over yer blisters, yer oughter look bright and 
 smart for feelin' that yer gettin' to be somethin' of a 
 man. La! if I did n't see yer behind a tree three 
 days gone a cryin'. And I 've seen yer sence a 
 laughin' with yer axe a goin' when I knowed yer 
 hands was a blister." 
 
 " I donH scowl over my blisters, Stimpson," ex- 
 claimed Russel with energy, and starting to his feet. 
 " It was rather tough at first, but I glory in it now. 
 By George! the Captain has made a man of me. 
 Damn the rags ! " said he, tearing the bandages from 
 his hands ; " I '11 do no more nursing." 
 
 " Take care what yer say, Mr. Russel ! Two bad 
 words in one sentence ; two cans of water for yer to- 
 night!" 
 
 « By Geo— " 
 
 "Hist— st— st— " 
 
 " Well, then ; with all solemnity and propriety of 
 speech, let me say, that this way of keeping a man 
 from swearing is the funniest that ever entered man's 
 head. A punishment, and a d — a confounded dis- 
 agreeable punishment too, and yet makes a man 
 laugh. Captain Smith is a genius, an original, a none- 
 such, decidedly. Think of his making a wood-chop- 
 per of me ! and really making me like it too ! And of 
 all things in this world, curing a man of swearing ! 
 
GENTLEMEN AT WORK. 131 
 
 St, James said you can guide a ship with a rudder, 
 and a horse with a bit, but that no man can tame the 
 tongue ; but then that was before Captain Smith was 
 born. Good by, Stimpson. Get me a good supper, 
 man, for I 'm going to fell that tree." 
 
 So saying, the young man walked up to where 
 Captain Smith was briskly at work upon one side of 
 a large tree, with a young "gentleman" who was 
 pecking awkwardly but good-naturedly with his axe 
 upon the opposite side. Smith was cheering his part- 
 ner with some considerate words of encouragement, 
 as young Russel drew near and stood eying the prog- 
 ress of the work. Smith soon suspended his blows, 
 and, turning about, said in a cheerful voice, " Well, 
 Russel ! tired out ? " 
 
 " No, sir," said the young man with a smile. " I 
 have been resting a little while, and now I have come 
 to ask for work." 
 
 " That 's right, — that 's right, my man. But there 's 
 work enough ; no need of asking, surely ! " 
 
 " No, sir. But we have been here nearly a week, 
 and there is one thing which I have not yet done, but 
 should like to do it, sir, if you please." 
 
 "Ah! what is it?" 
 
 " I have never felled a tree." 
 
 " And you would like to fell this, my man ? That 
 you shall, indeed, and with all my heart," putting the 
 axe into the young man's hand, with a look of grati- 
 fication and approval which went to Russel's heart. 
 " There is something in the sensation with which one 
 brings down — But try it, try it, Russel : I cannot 
 tell the thing in words." 
 
 Russel gratefully took the axe, though it required a 
 
132 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 minute or two before he could adjust his sore and 
 stiffened hands to the helve. Smith said a word com- 
 mending his resoluteness, when he swung his tool 
 with considerable skill and much energy into the 
 scarp which Smith had made. The tree required 
 some fifteen minutes more of cutting, and Russel per- 
 sisted manfully until arrested by Smith. " Hold ! " 
 said he. " Beadle, stand aside now ; let Russel finish 
 it. Take the other side, Russel. This side is cut 
 much beyond the centre ; of course the tree will fall 
 this way. When it does fall, take yourself aside a rod 
 or two, lest it should get foul upon the stump and 
 strike you. Cut away ! " 
 
 The huge trunk now began to quiver perceptibly 
 under the strokes of the axeman, — more, — more, — 
 more. And now it swayed and leaned. Under the 
 next stroke, the strong fibre of the wood cracked, — 
 but a little, though. At the next, it shivered into 
 splinters across the whole face, and the tall trunk lay 
 slowly and reluctantly over a little way, but stopped, 
 as if determined not to yield. The yonng woodsman 
 sprang from his position. Smith glanced upward, 
 and saw the long limbs of the tree clinging to the 
 arms of a neighbor for support. " Give it a little 
 more top-weight, Russel. A few chips out, and it is 
 done." 
 
 The young man had hardly resumed his strokes, 
 when the monster yielded with a groan which was 
 heard far away, sunk faster and faster, tearing and 
 crashing through the surrounding trees, till it fell with 
 a thundering roar, and the ground quaked under the 
 shock. Russel had traced the majestic descent of its 
 proud head to the ground with awe ; and when the 
 
GENTLEMEN AT WORK. 133 
 
 echo of its fall had subsided, he still stood, his axe 
 poised, his eye fixed upon the prostrate giant which 
 he had laid low, motionless and silent. 
 
 " Well done, Russel ! " exclaimed the President ; 
 " you have brought down one of the largest. How 
 do you feel about it ? Proud ? " 
 
 " Feel ? " exclaimed the young man, looking up as 
 if waked from a trance. " Less than the least of all 
 things ! " and he dropped his axe. There was strong 
 emotion in his face, and his lip paled and quivered as 
 he continued, in a husky voice: " Captain Smith, I 
 never, never felt so little as at this moment. What 
 power, what pride, what centuries, are there ! When 
 it was toppling and falling, it gave me such an idea 
 of strength and ruin, that I seem to myself nothing." 
 
 " Young man ! " replied Smith, with impressive 
 seriousness, " you have learned a lesson. You feel 
 as I thought you would. But mark the difference. 
 There is bulk ; here " — laying his hand upon Rus- 
 sel's head — " is intellect. There is physical might ; 
 but it is laid low by the mightier and immortal mind 
 which you are. Let no spoiler bring you low." 
 
 Although the sun was yet an hour above the hori- 
 zon, the approach of evening was already perceptible 
 beneath the shade of a primeval forest. The signal 
 was now given to cease from labor, and the men left 
 their various stations for the hut of boughs which has 
 been mentioned. Some carried the garments which 
 they had laid aside ; some, the tools with which they 
 had been employed, and which they now carefully de- 
 posited in their proper place. Then came the busi- 
 ness of washing, which they had discovered was a 
 great refreshment and a luxury. Their garments were 
 12 
 
134 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 resumed, and they gathered near the fire, a talkative, 
 cheerful, hearty set, resting with right good-will from 
 their toil, and waiting with the workingman's appe- 
 tite for supper. They dropped themselves upon the 
 ground in groups, or alone, as chance or caprice di- 
 rected. Some were joking of the odd mischances and 
 blunders of the day ; some, gravely estimating the 
 amount of clapboards already wrought out ; and some 
 of the few solitary ones solacing themselves with an 
 English song. This continued until Stirnpson, who 
 appeared to act in the double capacity of cook and 
 waiter, approached Captain Smith with washen face 
 and hands, and presented him with the Book of 
 Prayer. 
 
 Every one now rose and stood uncovered, while the 
 President read a short portion of Scripture, and all 
 bowed the knee and made the responses as he recited 
 the evening prayer for the day. A hymn was then 
 sung, in which nearly every voice joined, and whose 
 cheering inspiration every one seemed to feel. Then 
 followed the evening meal, consisting of the venison 
 which Stirnpson had chanced to bring down that 
 morning, and the new maize of the season, boiled in 
 the unbroken kernel, previously divested of its trans- 
 parent cuticle by soaking in a weak ley. The meal 
 was served in most rustic style, but devoured with 
 the keenest relish. The brisk conversation with which 
 the repast was enlivened gradually subsided ; and 
 when at length every appetite was appeased, it ceased 
 altogether, and the attention of every one was turned 
 to Captain Smith, who held in his hand a paper. At 
 the same time Stirnpson placed near him a bucket of 
 clear, cold water fresh from a neighboring spring. 
 
GENTLEMEN AT WORK. 135 
 
 The President cast his eyes gravely around the cir- 
 cle. 
 
 " There is no necessity of my reading the names 
 upon this paper," he said: "the delinquents, I per- 
 ceive, designate themselves." 
 
 Twenty-eight heads turned quickly to survey their 
 fellows. Two were bent towards the ground in 
 slight confusion. 
 
 " I am glad that it is so," continued Captain Smith ; 
 "glad and thankful that men now blush for an of- 
 fence against God in which no true gentleman will 
 allow himself ; men, too, who a week ago would have 
 resented a rebuke for their fault. I thank all of you 
 who are here to-night chargeless of profanity during 
 the day, for the self-control which you have so soon 
 acquired. The expedient to which I have resorted 
 for your improvement has served, as it was intended, 
 rather as a reminder than as a punishment. I take to 
 myself no credit, therefore, for your purer habits of 
 speech. The victory — and it is really one — has 
 been your own ; and again I thank you heartily. — 
 Peperell ! Russel ! " 
 
 The two men thus called took their station by the 
 side of Stimpson. 
 
 " Take your turn, Peperell ! " said the President. 
 
 Peperell elevated his arm, while Stimpson dipped 
 a can about the measure of a quart into the cool 
 water of the bucket, saying to the President, " How 
 many, sir ? " 
 
 " Five ; I am sorry to say it," said Smith, as he 
 looked upon the record in his hand. " The last five, 
 or rather the five last, I hope." 
 
 Stimpson raised his dripping can as high in the 
 
136 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 air as he could reach, while with the other hand he 
 opened the ample sleeve of the culprit. Slowly and 
 steadily he poured in the cold stream, which, flowing 
 down to the shoulder, dispersed itself thence, and ap- 
 peared trickling from different vents below. The man 
 did not seem much moved by the application, though 
 his countenance indicated a wholesome degree of 
 mortification. But under the second he cringed ; 
 and when the third, and fourth, and fifth followed in 
 rapid succession, his contortions and grimaces, al- 
 though he resolutely held his arm in position, had 
 become so ludicrous, that the whole company were 
 in an uproar. 
 
 " I '11 be d — I hope, Captain Smith," said he, rub- 
 bing his drenched arm, and with a slight chattering 
 of his teeth, — "I hope, sir, that this will be the last. 
 I '11 try, sir, by — I mean, I '11 try hard, sir." 
 
 " I see you must try hard, Peperell ; the duty words 
 seem to grow on your tongue. But you can keep 
 them back, and you will; I know you will, my man. 
 You will master yourself. — Russel ! " 
 
 Poor Russel ! Captain Smith's last words beside the 
 tree had impressed him deeply ; and he had fallen into 
 so serious and thoughtful a mood, that the ordeal was 
 peculiarly trying. He received, however, but two cans 
 of water, for the two oaths charged to his account. 
 
 The routine of the day was now over. Sentries 
 were posted for the night. The men wrapped them- 
 selves in cloaks or blankets, lay down in the open air 
 upon their pallets of tender and fragrant pine boughs, 
 with their muskets by their sides, and were soon in 
 profound sleep. 
 
 Such was Captain Smith's fashion of employing 
 
GENTLEMEN AT WORK. 137 
 
 time and strength, instead of crowning savages, and 
 ransacking a strange and trackless wilderness for lost 
 men, gold, and the antipodes. In this his good sense 
 is not more noticeable, than his skill and success in 
 managing the crude, lawless, and hair-brained thirty 
 whom he took from the fort to make clapboards in 
 the woods. Many of them were " younger sons," 
 effeminate, utter strangers to manual labor and to dis- 
 cipline. But Smith — tempering the authority of the 
 magistrate with the suavity of the gentleman, and 
 with the spirit and style of a fellow-laborer, swinging 
 the axe himself, and good-naturedly stimulating the 
 tender-handed — had contrived to invest the hard la- 
 bor of the forest with an air of romance which caught 
 the fancy of all ; and in a few days he had brought 
 his gentlemen to be efficient, and even merry-hearted 
 workmen. Nothing, perhaps, was more remarkable in 
 this young father of Virginia than this, — his famili- 
 arity did not breed contempt. He mingled with his 
 men in the woods as a friend ; he chatted and joked 
 with them as a fellow ; yet all felt his intellectual and 
 moral ascendency, — all deferred to him as a magis- 
 trate. His original device against profaneness — a 
 most singular combination of fun and punishment, of 
 good-nature and grave authority — wrought like a 
 charm upon men who would have been unmoved by 
 homilies, and none the better for flogging or the 
 bilboes. 
 
 Returning to the fort, Captain Smith found it ne- 
 cessary immediately to procure food. For this pur- 
 pose, he went up the Chickahominy with two barges. 
 But the Indians were now in no humor for trade. Be- 
 ing thus compelled to work upon their fears, he told 
 
 12* 
 
138 THE YOUTH OP THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 them that he had an old score to settle with them, 
 — his own capture, and the murder of Robinson and 
 Emry. This intimation, backed by men and muskets, 
 brought them to terms, and they freighted both barges 
 with provisions. 
 
 When the question of prosecuting the schemes of 
 Newport and the Company was before the Council, 
 Newport pledged himself to obtain twenty tons of 
 corn on his tour of discovery, and as much also from 
 Powhattan in return for his coronation. Smith had 
 expressed doubts that these expectations would be 
 realized. On his tour, as has been stated, Newport 
 obtained nothing ; from Powhattan he received four- 
 teen bushels! These failures, in addition to that 
 which took place when Newport was first overreached 
 in trade by Powhattan, only demonstrated, at New- 
 port's cost, the wisdom and sagacity of Smith, who 
 now again appeared before Jamestown with supplies, 
 which all needed and welcomed, but which no one 
 else could obtain. All these occurrences so wrought 
 upon Newport's spleen, that he plotted with Radcliffe, 
 who of course owed Smith a grudge, to depose him 
 from the Presidency, and even to exclude him from 
 the fort, upon the bald pretence that he had left it 
 without leave from the Council. But they had wrong- 
 ly measured both themselves and him. The meshes 
 of their toils were spiders' webs. In the words of the 
 original narrative, " their homes were much too short." 
 Smith was too strong in his own manliness, and too 
 strong in the esteem and affection of most of the colo- 
 nists, for such feeble-minded envy to contend with. 
 He was full of indignation at this attempt, and was 
 about to send the ship home without Newport, that 
 
VEXATIONS. 139 
 
 he might know, by the experience of a year, the hard- 
 ships and privations of colonial life. But Newport 
 made suitable apology, and Smith was appeased, and 
 forgave. 
 
 It is hardly possible for us to award to Smith that 
 meed of respect and admiration which is his due, 
 because it is hardly possible for us to estimate the 
 variety and weight of burdens which none could 
 shoulder but himself, the hinderances which beset 
 him, the enmity and rascality which balked his best 
 endeavors. One thing is certain, however, — he never 
 flagged under the most harassing annoyances. In 
 addition to other difficulties, he was now contending 
 against secret villany, which greatly hindered the 
 mercantile prosperity of the Company. Newport 
 and his sailors traded on their own account, through 
 their private factors or accomplices in the settlement. 
 These pilfered the tools, the powder, the shot, the 
 pike-heads, and other vendible effects belonging to 
 the Company, which they secretly exchanged " with 
 the salvages for furres, baskets, mussanaks, young 
 beasts, or such like " ; and these commodities they 
 again " exchanged with the saylers for butter, cheese, 
 beefe, porke, aqua vitas, beere," and other ship-stores 
 of the Company, and which " they would fain was 
 all sent them by their friends " in England. Thus, 
 " though the Company got no furs from Virginia, yet 
 the master [Newport] got so many by this indirect 
 meanes as he confessed to have sold in England for 
 thirty pounds." To such an extent was this pecula- 
 tion carried, " that, within six or seaven weakes, of 
 two or three hundred axes, chisels, hows [hoes], and 
 pickaxes, scarce twentie could be found." Thus the 
 
140 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Company received no returns, save the avails of 
 Smith's honest and indefatigable toil, and were at the 
 same time freely swindled by their own servants. 
 So completely was the ship stripped of her stores by 
 this abominable traffic, that Smith, out of his meagre 
 supplies, was obliged to furnish three hogsheads of 
 corn to victual her homeward. The Company had 
 reason to complain ; but they complained only of 
 their faithful servant. Yet he would not desert their 
 service, though he manfully and keenly retorted their 
 complaints.* 
 
 It was a relief when Newport was gone, although 
 there were two hundred colonists to be fed, — eighty- 
 nine of whom were lame and sick in consequence of 
 his journey of discovery, — and they were reduced, 
 after victualling the ship, to a pint of corn a day to 
 a man. In addition to this, the new-comers were 
 nearly all mere consumers, — fifty-six of the seventy 
 being gentlemen, tradesmen, glass and potash makers, 
 boys and women. Captain Smith sent home with 
 Newport the late President, Radcliffe, " a poore coun- 
 terfeited imposture now called Sicklemore, least the 
 company [at Jamestown] should cut his throat." 
 
 The slender harvest of the colonists had been seri- 
 ously injured by imperfect shelter, and the favorable 
 time for purchasing the newly gathered harvest of 
 the Indians had been squandered by the moonshine 
 adventures of Newport. In addition, it was evident 
 that the Indians were unwilling to supply their wants. 
 Under these circumstances, Captain Smith was seri- 
 
 * Smith's letter to the Council in England is contained entire in 
 Simms, and an abstract of it may be found in Hillard. 
 
VEXATIONS. 141 
 
 ously apprehensive of famine, and now devoted his 
 whole energies to avert it. He went upon repeated 
 excursions, to purchase corn. They were successful 
 only to a limited degree ; and only by resorting to 
 threats, and even to some violence, after persuasion 
 had been tried in vain. Powhattan had issued posi- 
 tive orders to his subjects not to sell their corn to the 
 English. Winter had set in. The ground was frozen 
 hard, and covered with snow. Yet Smith and the 
 men who accompanied him were obliged to sleep in 
 the open woods. To keep themselves alive, they 
 would clear away the snow, build a generous fire 
 upon the spot, remove the embers, and thus provide 
 a warm bed for a while. When the ground grew 
 cold, they would wake up, make another fire, and 
 have a warm bed again. Thus did they make shift 
 for many a cold night ; yet they " were always in 
 health, lusty, and fat." Notwithstanding hardships 
 and ill success, Smith was not discouraged ; but he 
 resolved, through the necessity of the case, upon an- 
 other and bold expedient. 
 
 About this time occurred the first English mar- 
 riage in Virginia, — John Laydon with Anne Burras. 
 
CHAPTER 4 XI. 
 
 THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. — SINGLE COMBATS. —PEACE.— 
 ANARCHY. 
 
 In one of the most spacious huts of the royal vil- 
 lage of Werowocomoco, and but a short distance 
 from the bank of the river, a party of nineteen Eng- 
 lishmen were gathered around a generous fire on the 
 morning of the 14th day of January, 1609. They 
 had just partaken of a bounteous breakfast of veni- 
 son, turkeys, and maize, which Powhattan had pro- 
 vided with his usual liberality. The ground was 
 covered with snow, and the ice extended nearly half 
 a mile into the river, at less than musket-shot from 
 which point lay the English pinnace and two barges, 
 having on board twenty-eight men, in plain sight 
 from the door of the hut. The snow-clad pine-tops 
 had glistened but a little while under the rays of the 
 sun, when the English finished their meal. They 
 were all stout men, and stout-hearted too ; or they 
 would not have volunteered as they had done to enter 
 the lion's den, knowing that he thirsted for their 
 blood. They all seemed in good spirits, except three 
 or four drowsy ones who had kept the night-watch. 
 It is almost needless to say that the whole party 
 were armed, and that Captain Smith was one of 
 their number. 
 
 They had arrived on the 12th. The next day had 
 
THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 143 
 
 been consumed in an unavailing talk between Smith 
 and Powhattan, which consisted chiefly of reproaches 
 on the part of the chief that his " friend " should have 
 come with an armed retinue, and on the part of the 
 other that his " friend " produced no corn, after hav- 
 ing invited him thither under promise of a boat-load. 
 Just before receiving the invitation, Smith had deter- 
 mined upon the excursion for the purpose of attempt- 
 ing the capture of Powhattan, as the only means of 
 procuring food for the colony, and as a security for 
 his own life. Powhattan had sent the invitation 
 expressly for the purpose of compassing his death ; 
 and of this Smith, in addition to what he knew before 
 of Powhattan's general hostility and designs, had 
 received positive information just after leaving James- 
 town. The chief also had received positive infor- 
 mation of Smith's purpose, through some traitorous 
 Germans whom he had sent to build a house which 
 his Indian " friend " had requested. Thus singu- 
 larly were they situated, each knowing the hostile 
 intent of the other, each supposing his own intent 
 unknown, and each adopting the speech and cour- 
 tesies of friends. 
 
 " It is useless," said Smith, as his men gathered 
 closer to the fire, " to dally longer with this suspicious 
 old chief. We must do our best to seize him to-day, 
 if we would save our people from starvation and our- 
 selves from massacre." 
 
 " We only await your orders, sir," said John Rus- 
 sel. " Have you any plan of proceeding ? " 
 
 " I see no chance for stratagem. Powhattan is too 
 much upon his guard. He will soon be here for an- 
 other talk. You only must remain with me, Mr. 
 
144 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Russel. The rest of you will now retire, and act 
 under the directions of Sergeant Pising. You, Ser- 
 geant, will station your men according to your dis- 
 cretion, only at such a distance from the house as 
 not to excite fear. In the course of an hour, set 
 some of the Indians to breaking the ice, and signal 
 to Lieutenant Percy to work the boats ashore. Then 
 advance with all who can be spared, surround the hut, 
 and we will take Powhattan away by force. In the 
 mean time, I shall engage him in conversation." 
 
 With the exception of Russel, the men now left, 
 and soon after Powhattan made his appearance ; the 
 two foes saluting each other with all show of con- 
 fidence and good- will. The chief was accompanied 
 by the " two handsome young women " who, for the 
 time, enjoyed the honor of sitting by his side upon 
 occasions of state. The conference of yesterday was 
 soon resumed. Powhattan was strenuous on two 
 points ; first, that he should have swords in exchange 
 for corn ; second, that Smith should send all his arms 
 on board the boats. It was only his own and his 
 peoples' dread of English weapons which deterred 
 him from attempting the life of his " friend " at any 
 moment ; reasoning, as he justly did, that the vital- 
 ity of the colony was centred in Smith. The latter 
 affirmed that he had no swords to spare, and that the 
 carrying of arms was as much a matter of course 
 with his men, as with the Indians when they visited 
 Jamestown. Powhattan urged that he could not 
 persuade his people to bring corn, they were so afraid 
 of guns, and insisted that the presence of armed men 
 was a very dishonorable reflection upon his royal 
 friendship. 
 
THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 145 
 
 " Only get your guns and swords out of the way," 
 said he, " and you shall have plenty of corn." 
 
 u You might as well ask me to deprive myself and 
 my men of our clothes," was the reply. " Besides, 
 we never do harm with our weapons, except we re- 
 ceive bad usage." 
 
 " No one refuses to lie at my feet, or do what I 
 demand, but you. I asked Captain Newport for 
 swords, and he gave them to me. I asked him to 
 send his guns out of sight, and he did it. And yet 
 you, to whom I have been kinder than to any one, 
 refuse me both ! " 
 
 u Powhattan knows that I have but one God, and 
 should also know that I have but one king. I pro- 
 fess to be your friend, not your subject. Captain 
 Newport may obey your orders, if he will ; but Cap- 
 tain Smith cannot." 
 
 " You call Captain Newport ' father,' and you call 
 me 6 father ' ; but I see, in spite of us both, you will 
 do what you will." 
 
 " I do indeed call you < father ' ; but the small care 
 you have of such a child has caused me to look well 
 to myself." 
 
 Many other words passed between the two, but all 
 to the same effect. However, a bargain was made 
 between them, by which Powhattan agreed to give 
 eighty bushels of corn for a copper kettle which he 
 greatly coveted. While this was going on, the break- 
 ing of the ice and the movement of the boats became 
 known to Powhattan, as was also the fact that his 
 own men were in readiness to secure and murder 
 Captain Smith. At the same time, Smith and Rus- 
 sel were beguiled into conversation by the two young 
 
 13 
 
146 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION, 
 
 beauties, left there purposely to amuse them, who 
 became suddenly agreeable upon the comparative 
 merits of sky-blue beads and corn. A little time had 
 been spent in this way, when Smith found to his 
 alarm that they four were the only occupants of the 
 hut, Powhattan having slipped quietly away. A 
 glance through the door revealed that they were sur- 
 rpunded by armed warriors, and that his own body- 
 guard were operating near the shore for the advance 
 of the boats. His countenance, even in its most 
 composed state, had an unusual expression of martial 
 severity and defiance ; but at this triple discovery it 
 underwent a change which made the wood-nymphs 
 scud. There was but a moment for action. The 
 two men sprang at once upon " the naked devils " 
 without. At the first shot, the foremost tumbled 
 in heaps, and the rest fled in a panic, so that 
 Smith and Russel readily made their way to their 
 companions. 
 
 After a little while there came " an ancient orator," 
 bringing a great bracelet and a chain of pearls, which 
 he presented to Captain Smith, saying, with an air 
 of the greatest ingenuousness : " Powhattan sends 
 these presents to assure you of his love. He has fled 
 because he fears your guns, and because he knows 
 you mean to bring more from your boats when the 
 ice is broken. You was alarmed because his war- 
 riors surrounded your house. But you was wrong. 
 Our werowance placed them there for the love he 
 bears you, that they might keep the wicked ones of 
 our people from stealing the corn which he had given 
 you. You have hurt some of them with your guns ; 
 but Powhattan knows that the injury wiiich comes 
 
THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 147 
 
 by mistake should not separate friends. Therefore 
 he sends you greetings and presents, and messages 
 of love. And now, see ! the ice is broken ; your 
 boats can come to the shore. He wishes, therefore, 
 that you would send your corn on board, and your 
 guns too, if you desire his company." 
 
 " When Powhattan was not with me," replied 
 Captain Smith, " I supposed that his warriors in- 
 tended mischief. How can I doubt his love ? Pow- 
 hattan has the great heart of a great king, when he 
 says that even bloody mistakes should not separate 
 friends." 
 
 " You see," said the orator, " that our people are 
 bringing baskets for your corn. Let your men take 
 it to your boats. I will set a guard over their guns 
 while they do it," 
 
 " See to your arms, men ! " exclaimed Smith ; and 
 the men instantly made a movement which showed 
 the ancient that they were ready to use them. 
 
 " When we buy corn of Powhattan," continued 
 Smith, "his servants should carry it to our boats. 
 We will guard their arms while they do it." 
 
 The " goodly well-proportioned fellows, grim as 
 devils " — so the narrative, with odd inconsistency 
 of words, styles them — instantly took the hint, laid 
 down their bows and arrows, and bore the corn to 
 the boats on their shoulders. 
 
 By this time the tide had ebbed, and left the barges 
 aground, so that Smith and his guard were persuaded 
 to return to their quarters. The Indians were all 
 complaisance and hospitality. They spared no pains 
 to promote the comfort and pleasure of the English. 
 Out of doors there were such sports as the season 
 
148 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 permitted, and the ample building occupied by the 
 guests was a scene of varied and unrestrained hilar- 
 ity. The females joined merrily in the dance, and 
 performed well their part to allay the jealousies and 
 secure the confidence of the strangers. Thus passed 
 the day. 
 
 The sun went down. The fire glowed and crackled, 
 and gave out its cheerful light and its cheering influ- 
 ence, as generous winter-fires always do. Sounds of 
 unwonted glee came from the neighboring wigwams, 
 where the youth of both sexes were making merry ; 
 a few " well-proportioned devils " mingled with the 
 English in frank and easy fellowship ; black-eyed 
 coquettes, with flowing tresses and furs negligently 
 adjusted, glided around the fire, practising glances 
 and smiles and attitudes upon their guests, while 
 their more shy and unpractised companions huddled 
 near the door, — some shaking the fresh snow from 
 their moccasons, some just retreating to tell what 
 they had seen. Every human face and sound 
 betokened unbounded and unsuspicious friendship 
 on the part of the Indians, and contentment on 
 the part of the whites. But the wind whistled 
 through the crevices of the hut, and surged dole- 
 fully through the pine and the cypress of the forest. 
 Neither moon nor stars were to be seen, for the 
 sky was overspread with clouds. It was a dark, 
 dark night, — as dark as it can be when the ground 
 is sheeted with snow. 
 
 Captain Smith's attention was attracted to a little 
 maiden, one of the group gathered about the entrance. 
 She was noticeable for being so much younger than 
 the rest, — apparently not more than six or eight 
 
THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 149 
 
 years of age, — but particularly for the earnest and 
 meaning way in which she persistently followed 
 Smith with her eyes wherever he moved. Perceiv- 
 ing this, he improved a leisure moment to beckon to 
 her, holding in his hand a little toy as a lure. The 
 child instantly, but timidly, approached ; and, as she 
 received the bawble, adroitly slipped into his hand a 
 little ornament of glass, saying, " Let the white chief 
 come to the old oak." Then, apparently engrossed 
 with her toy, she ran back to the doorway, lingered a 
 moment in the throng, folded her scant mantle of fur 
 over her bosom, and disappeared. Smith held in 
 his hand the only ornament of the kind — a simple 
 brooch — which he had given among the savages, 
 and knew it to be a token from Pocahontas. The 
 token, the message, the singular manner in which 
 each was delivered, excited his alarm. It was evi- 
 dent that some exigency demanded his immediate 
 and cautious attention. The difficulty was to escape 
 from the building unobserved. To pass by the door 
 was out of question. Fortunately, upon one side of 
 the hut was an aperture, about half the height of a 
 man, serving as a window whenever occasion might 
 require. It was now closed by matting and skins, 
 and the glare of the fire-light was full upon it. Cap- 
 tain Smith immediately communicated with Russel, 
 by whose assistance a few of his men were arranged 
 to screen the window while he made his exit and 
 until his return. Making his way through the dark- 
 ness, with his hand upon his pistol, he soon reached 
 an oak, remarkable for its position and age, at a little 
 distance in the rear of the hut. 
 
 " Captain Smith ! " whispered a tremulous voice ; 
 
 13 
 
150 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 and he could just discern a small figure gliding from 
 behind the tree. 
 
 " Pocahontas ! is it possible ! " 
 
 The maiden made no reply; but, clinging to his 
 arm in an imploring attitude, burst into tears. 
 
 " Speak, child ! Tell me, are you in trouble ? " 
 
 But she only clung the closer to him, trembling 
 like a frighted bird, and sobbing as though her heart 
 would break. 
 
 " There, there, my dear one ! " as he spread his short 
 mantle upon the snow. He gently seated her upon 
 it by his side, and, supporting her as if she had been 
 his own child, he continued : u Take your own time 
 to tell me ; but be sure nothing shall harm you now. 
 Poor, trembling thing! Be quiet now, if you can. 
 You are safe, child ; you are safe. Who has dared 
 to fright you so ? Dear child, you have done right to 
 come to me. You knew I would protect you. Yes, 
 yes, that was right " ; and he wiped away her tears, 
 as she looked up and tried in vain to speak. 
 
 So she sobbed upon his shoulder again for a min- 
 ute, until she became somewhat composed, when she 
 grasped his hand and exclaimed : " Fly, fly, Captain 
 Smith ! you must fly. They will kill you ! " 
 
 " Me ! O, it is for me, is it, — not yourself ? " 
 
 u O no, no, no ! not myself ! They will kill you ! " 
 
 " But who, child ? " 
 
 " Powhattan ! " and again she fell to weeping bit- 
 terly. 
 
 " Well, do not weep." 
 
 " Not weep ! not weep ! " recovering by a great 
 effort, " when my — my — own — father sets a snare 
 for one whom he calls ' friend ' ! Not weep, when he 
 
THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 151 
 
 is coming with his warriors to take your life ! "Would 
 you have Pocahontas laugh at the treachery of — of — 
 him ? Would you have her dance when they are 
 shaking the English hatchet over your head ? Is 
 Pocahontas a wolf ? " 
 
 u Powhattan has not deceived me," replied Smith, 
 hoping to assuage her grief. But when she pressed 
 him, he was obliged to confess his meaning to be 
 merely that the chiefs hypocrisy had been discovered. 
 
 " But," he continued, " there is no danger. I am 
 on my guard. Powhattan tried to kill me to-day ; 
 but I took care of myself." 
 
 " To-day ! tried ! " exclaimed Pocahontas. 
 
 Smith began to narrate the attempt of the morn- 
 ing ; but she interrupted him, saying vehemently : 
 " Enough, enough ! I do not wish to know. Besides, 
 there is no time to spare. There is a great plot 
 against you to-night, and you must fly." 
 
 " Well, child, what is the plot ? and why must I 
 flee ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " said she, bitterly, and overlooking his ques- 
 tion for the moment, " if he had only said, ' We are 
 enemies ; we will go to war ' ! But to say, ' My dear 
 friend ! ' to say, ' I love Captain Smith ! ' when all 
 the time — But you must go away quickly, — 
 quickly ! " 
 
 " But the plot, what is it ? " 
 
 " O yes, the plot ! Powhattan will pretty soon 
 send you a great feast. His men will be large, strong 
 men, and will pretend to be your loving friends ; and 
 then, when you are eating, and thinking no harm, 
 they are to seize your guns and swords, and kill 
 you all." 
 
152 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " We will take care of that." 
 
 " But," she continued, not heeding the interrup- 
 tion, " if they cannot, Powhattan will come with all 
 his great warriors, and then they will kill. This is 
 the plot, and I beg you to go away." 
 
 " Now that my little preserver has told me, I shall 
 take care. Did you come from where Powhattan and 
 his warriors are ? " 
 
 " Yes. I overheard him tell them just before the 
 sun went down ; and as soon as it was dark I came." 
 
 " And have but just come ? " 
 
 " A little while ago." 
 
 " You have been all this while on the way ? " 
 
 " Pocahontas did run," said the child, in her sim- 
 plicity, not perceiving that Smith only wished to 
 judge of the distance. 
 
 " Alone ? " 
 
 " Yes, alone. I dared not have any one." 
 
 " So far, — so cold, — so dark, — and alone ! " 
 exclaimed Smith. " Why did you not send ? " 
 
 " No one would dare to come. Powhattan would 
 kill any one who should tell you." 
 
 " But you did send some one to me," giving her 
 the brooch. 
 
 " Yes. But she belongs here, and did not know 
 me in the dark ; nor did she know why I would see 
 you." 
 
 " And so, because Powhattan would not kill you, 
 you came yourself ? " 
 
 " Tf he knows, he will." 
 
 " Will kill his dearest daughter ? " 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " Good God ! " exclaimed Smith, in English, " bless 
 her ! O bless this child ! " 
 
THE ANGEL BY NIGHT. 1.53 
 
 " I hear you say, ' God.' " 
 
 " Yes ; I asked my God to bless you." 
 
 " Did you ? How land you are ! But please pray 
 him one thing more." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " To bless Powhattan too." 
 
 The broad, manly chest of the soldier heaved as he 
 clasped the child in his arms, and said,~with a quiver 
 on his lip : " Pocahontas, I will ! I do ! " 
 
 He. then expressed his sense of her heroic self-devo- 
 tion, — an expression which more than repaid her, — 
 and would have pressed upon her acceptance some 
 few ornaments which he had ; but she refused, say- 
 ing that they would betray her if they should be seen, 
 and " then she were but dead." She urged him to 
 hasten his flight ; repeating, with great emphasis, 
 that he had no time to lose. They then exchanged 
 farewells, and she gathered her furs around her to go. 
 Suddenly she turned toward Smith, and, looking up 
 earnestly in his face, said : " Will Captain Smith's 
 God let Pocahontas pray ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " he quickly answered, and the tears 
 started in his eyes. u Yes, yes, Pocahontas ! He 
 says, ' Suffer little children to come unto me, and 
 forbid them not.' " 
 
 " Does he ? Red children ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " and he folded both her little hands 
 in his. 
 
 " Then Pocahontas will pray him." 
 
 " Do, do, my child ! He ivill hear you." 
 
 " And will do for me ? " 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " Then I will pray him to bless me, and you, and 
 
154 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Powhattan " ; and she ran away by herself in the 
 darkness, as she came. 
 
 Thus does Divine Mercy make its servants its 
 beneficiaries. God prompted the pagan child to 
 perform his purposes of deliverance. The service 
 was rendered with a cheerful heart. It was her first 
 lesson in the book of the knowledge of God. As 
 she went on* his errands to the strangers, she was 
 on her way to the One Fold to which she was a 
 stranger. They were her first steps toward the 
 Good Shepherd, who was thus drawing her to him- 
 self ; and who, before long, folded her in his arms 
 and carried her in his bosom, — her priceless and 
 eternal reward for childhood's labor of love. 
 
 Again invoking the blessing of God upon the 
 heroic protectress of his life, Smith thoughtfully 
 returned to his companions. 
 
 The facts were as Pocahontas had stated. The 
 feast was provided, but the plan was foiled. All 
 night long Powhattan, by means of successive spies, 
 sought opportunity to attack the English with his 
 whole force ; but at no moment could he venture, 
 for at no moment could he find them off their guard. 
 
 At flood tide in the morning the English departed, 
 receiving and rendering back all the outward cour- 
 tesies of friendship. They turned their boats up the 
 river to Pamunkey, the residence of Opechancanough. 
 The same hypocrisy and the same hostility awaited 
 them there ; for Powhattan, exasperated by his own 
 failure, had instantly issued orders to all his subjects 
 to kill Smith. They were received with all hospi- 
 tality. Upon a day appointed for the sale and pur- 
 chase of corn, Smith, with fifteen men, met Opechan- 
 
SINGLE COMBATS. 155 
 
 canough at his dwelling, in presence of forty or fifty 
 of his warriors. While the two principals were 
 conversing, Mr. Russel suddenly gave the startling 
 intelligence that the house was surrounded by seven 
 hundred armed savages. Smith's men were brave, 
 and had volunteered upon a service which they knew 
 to be full of danger; but at this news their hearts 
 shrank within them. Perceiving its effect, Smith 
 with a composed voice addressed a few words to 
 them in English, which revived their natural cour- 
 age, and they promptly signified that they were 
 ready to obey him to the death. He then turned 
 boldly to the chief. 
 
 " Opechancanough ! you need not think that I am 
 blind. With all your craft, you have not enough to 
 cover a snare so cunningly that I cannot see it. Do 
 I not know what you are about? You intend to 
 murder me. Do it, if you can. You shall have a 
 fair chance. You see that island. Now let each of 
 your men around the house bring a basket of corn. 
 For each basket I will lay down its value in copper. 
 The copper and the corn, your men and mine, shall 
 be the stake between us. Go now with me alone 
 to the island. Take what weapons you please. I will 
 strip as naked as yourself. There we will fight. The 
 conqueror shall be owner of the goods and ruler of 
 the men. What say you ? Will you go ? " 
 
 " Why should the werowance of the English think 
 Opechancanough his enemy ? It is a lie which the 
 evil spirit has put in your heart. Why should ice 
 fight ? I do not wish your blood, and shall not fight. 
 I am your friend. Have I not already at the door 
 a great present for you ? I have. Come and see. 
 Then you will have proof of my love." 
 
156 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 He had a great present at the door for his guest, — 
 two hundred arrows upon the bow-strings of archers 
 in ambush. Of this Smith was not aware ; but of 
 the chiefs murderous intention he was sufficiently 
 certain. His resolution was instantly taken, for his 
 blood was up. Opechancanough was much the taller 
 and the stouter man, and his warrior attendants were 
 ranged on either side of him. Smith ran his eye from 
 his coronet of feathers to his beaded moecason, and 
 again from moecason to coronet, bounded upon him 
 like a panther, seized his tufted hair, dragged him at 
 a stride from the midst of his body-guard, and pre- 
 sented a pistol at his breast. Holding back the 
 chiefs head by its scalp-lock, he looked terribly in 
 his face for an instant, and then gave vent to his 
 wrath : " Lie me no lies, you rascal ! Come along ! " 
 
 So saying, he dragged him to the door of the hat, 
 and in that humiliating position held him in the gaze 
 of his people. Struck with horror at such a sacrilege 
 upon the person of their king, and with awe of the 
 man who had dared it, they instantly threw aside 
 their weapons. 
 
 " Pamunkeys ! " exclaimed Smith, " I once made a 
 vow to be your friend till you should force me to be 
 your enemy. 1 have kept it ; and because I am 
 peaceable, you seek to kill me. But draw one drop 
 of blood from me or my men, or steal from me a 
 bead or a bit of copper, and I will not cease to bleed 
 you so long as there is a Pamunkey vein to bleed. I 
 am not in a Chickahominy mud-hole to-day. You 
 have promised to load my boat with corn. Load, or 
 I will load it with your carcasses. Still, if you prefer 
 to trade as friends, and your ldng here prefers it, so 
 
SINGLE COMBATS. 157 
 
 be it. In that case he shall be free ; for I come 
 neither to hurt you or him. Take your choice." 
 
 They made a discreet choice, and brought supplies 
 with alacrity and in abundance ; upon which their 
 king was released. Yet not three hours afterwards 
 an attempt was made upon Smith's life by fifty 
 select warriors at once, as he was sleeping alone, 
 overcome with fatigue. Roused by then: too pre- 
 cipitate movement, and but half awake, " he betooke 
 him straight to his sword and target," and, with the 
 help of some of his careless and scattered guard, 
 drove the assailants from his house. Opechanca- 
 nough apologized, and Smith affected to be satisfied. 
 The rest of the day was passed in all friendship, — in 
 exchange of presents, in feasting and sports ; the In- 
 dians preferring to make a virtue of necessity, rather 
 than contend longer and hopelessly against so watch- 
 ful and daring a foe. 
 
 The last flurry with the Pamunkeys was hardly 
 over, when Captain Smith was startled by the arrival 
 of Mr. Richard Wyffin from Jamestown. He brought 
 a message, which he delivered to Smith privately, 
 that the men upon whose discretion he depended for 
 the care of the fort during his absence, and for his 
 succor in case he should need it, were dead, and that 
 his immediate return was necessary. No one had 
 dared to venture upon this mission but himself, and 
 he had undergone incessant perils on his way ; hav- 
 ing been rescued from death at Werowocomoco only 
 by the vigilance, artifices, and large bribes of Poca- 
 hontas. Mr. Scrivener, Captain Waldo, Anthony 
 Gosnold, a brother of the deceased navigator, and 
 eight others, had been drowned by the swamping of 
 
 14 
 
158 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 their boat in the river near the fort. Lest the knowl- 
 edge of this calamity should depress his men, and 
 thus embolden the savages to new assaults, Smith 
 enjoined secrecy upon Wyffin, and disguised his own 
 grief. At night, he went on board his boat with his 
 men, and took his course immediately for Jamestown ; 
 having first sent Mr. Crashaw and Mr. Ford, with a 
 small party, across the country. He arrived at the 
 fort about the 1st of February, after an absence of six 
 weeks ; having purchased four hundred and seventy- 
 nine bushels of corn and two hundred pounds of deer- 
 suet. 
 
 Although much of the grain in store was ruined, by 
 neglect, during the absence of Smith, yet it was found 
 that, with these new supplies, they had food enough 
 to sustain the colony until the next harvest. The 
 whole energies of the settlers were now demanded, by 
 their resolute President, in labors for the thrift and 
 comfort of the community. There were some forty 
 willing and industrious men ; but the other hundred 
 and fifty were restive and refractory. They plainly 
 signified that both labor and discipline were unbefit- 
 ting their pretensions as " gentlemen " ; and that they 
 would stoutly resist the enforcement of either. Noth- 
 ing could rouse Smith's indignation more thoroughly 
 and dangerously than conceited laziness and insubor- 
 dination. He told the " gentlemen " that he had au- 
 thority in their case ; that, in virtue of the letters 
 patent, the Council would enforce the law of labor 
 equally and indiscriminately upon all not disabled by 
 sickness ; that, by the recent swamping of their boat, 
 the Council now consisted only of Captain Wynne and 
 himself, the President ; and that no able-bodied man 
 
SINGLE COMBATS. 159 
 
 among them should eat unless he performed his quota 
 of work. Of honest labor or starvation they were free to 
 make then election. Smith's resoluteness was known ; 
 and the li gentlemen" fell into the ranks of work- 
 men. Six hours of labor a day was his very moderate 
 requisition ; the rest of the time the men might pass 
 in such harmless recreations as they might choose. 
 They were divided into companies of ten or fifteen ; 
 to each company was allotted a section of labor ; and 
 the tasks were performed, for every attempt to evade 
 or slight them was in vain under the eye of such a 
 master. As the result of this discipline, " in three 
 months they had made a considerable quantity of tar, 
 pitch, and potash ; produced a sample of glass ; dug a 
 well of sweet water in the fort ; built twenty houses ; 
 new-covered the church ; provided nets and weirs for 
 fishing; and built a blockhouse on the isthmus of 
 Jamestown, in which a garrison was stationed to 
 trade with the Indians, and which no one was allowed 
 to pass without an order from the President. An- 
 other blockhouse was also erected and garrisoned on 
 Hog Island ; thirty or forty acres of land were dug 
 and planted ; trees were felled ; and clapboards and 
 wainscoting were manufactured." 
 
 The Dutchmen sent to build a house for Powhattan 
 had not only revealed the plan for his capture, — a 
 revelation of which Captain Smith himself was still 
 unsuspicious, — but had perfected their treason by 
 procuring, for the chief, English arms and ammuni- 
 tion, by teaching his men to use them, and even by 
 plotting with him for the murder of Smith. They had 
 a few confederates in the fort, through whom they 
 received swords, pike-heads, guns, powder, and shot, 
 which were stored in the armory of Powhattan. 
 
160 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 About a mile from Jamestown, and in the deep 
 shadows of the forest, stood a building which had 
 been erected for experiments in the manufacture 
 of glass. It was a convenient place of rendezvous 
 for the Dutchmen, and their colleagues in the fort. 
 One day, a short time after the return of the ex- 
 pedition from Werowocomoco and Pamunkey, there 
 was a gathering in this building. There were thirty- 
 five Indians there, hideously painted and fully armed. 
 Their commander was the chief of a neighboring 
 tribe, the Pashiphays, a remarkably tall and muscu- 
 lar man, a tributary to Powhattan. "With them was 
 Francis, one of the traitor Dutchmen, disguised as an 
 Indian. There were also one Bentley, and a Swiss 
 named Volday, both belonging to the fort, "who had 
 met Francis and his Indians by appointment. These 
 three had just arranged with Pashiphay a plan for 
 leading Captain Smith into an ambush; for which 
 purpose the Indians had been lurking about the fort 
 two or three days. We will not attempt to specify 
 the plan, for the best of reasons, — we know not what 
 it was. But no sooner was it arranged, than it was 
 disarranged by the entrance of an Indian scout, who 
 reported that Captain Smith had just left the fort 
 with soldiers, and was coming in the direction of the 
 building. The whole party scattered as though a 
 bomb-shell had fallen in their midst. 
 
 Half an hour afterwards, Smith with his men ap- 
 proached. Having cautiously stationed them around 
 the building, he entered the door alone. Seeing no 
 one, he sought around for Francis, of whose arrival 
 and treasonable friendship with Powhattan he had 
 just received information. 
 
SINGLE COMBATS. 161 
 
 u The bird has flown," said he, as he returned and 
 called his men around him. He stood for a moment 
 in a musing attitude, revolving what next to do. 
 
 " The fellow must have some accomplice in the 
 fort," observed Ensign Laxon. 
 
 " To be sure ! " replied the President ; " some one 
 who does the stealing for him " ; — for the Dutchmen 
 were procuring weapons for Powhattan ; and that one 
 of them was prowling about in disguise was all that 
 Smith yet knew. " Remain here with the men, Mr. 
 Laxon," he continued. " Conceal yourselves as much 
 as possible, but keep your eyes and ears open. The 
 fellow may return. If you catch the least glimpse of 
 him, take him ; alive, if you can, — ^but take him." 
 
 " How long, sir ? " 
 
 " Till orders. You will receive them when I hear 
 from Mr. Cuddrington" ; referring to a party of twenty, 
 — one half the number with which he had left the 
 fort, — whom he had sent, under that bold and reso- 
 lute gentleman, to watch for Francis on the path to 
 Werowocomoco. 
 
 In the mean time, after a circuitous flight, Pashi- 
 phay had rallied his men, about forty in number, and 
 left them in ambush less than half a mile nearer to the 
 fort, while he went himself to reconnoitre. Fortune 
 favored his designs. He had not gone far, when the 
 sound of a footstep caught his ear. Instantly crouch- 
 ing down, he listened, and perceived, upon a repe- 
 tition of the sound, that it was the step of a solitary 
 person and a white man. This perplexed the savage 
 for a moment ; for he could not believe that, when 
 the ill-temper of his people towards the English was 
 so well known, any one of them would venture into 
 u* 
 
162 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the forest unattended. But his eye brightened, and 
 even glowed with exulting eagerness, as his second 
 thought suggested that there was one white man who 
 would dare to do it. Creeping along with the soft 
 tread of a cat, and flitting from bush to tree in the 
 direction whence the wanderer was approaching, he 
 soon caught sight of a plume, which he recognized at 
 once as Captain Smith's. A second look revealed 
 the features and form of the very man whose life he 
 most desired to take, striding along the trail which 
 led to the fort, and armed only with a sword. His 
 joy at this unexpected sight and his certainty of secur- 
 ing his prize were so great, that he could hardly re- 
 strain the shout of triumph which rose instinctively to 
 his lips. With the greatest effort he checked it ; and 
 stooping down, he adjusted an arrow upon his bow, 
 and slowly rose to his aim. The shaft was drawn to 
 its head by one of the best marksmen and strongest 
 arms in Powhattan's dominions. Never did archer 
 have a fairer mark than was the breast of the unsus- 
 pecting Englishman before the weapon of Pashiphay. 
 The life of his formidable foe was in his hands. But 
 his hands were in the hand of a Mightier. The sav- 
 age suddenly lowered his bow and arrow, for he 
 thought of his men, and of the prowess of Smith. 
 One arrow might fail, — forty were better. Step- 
 ping therefore from the ooppice upon the narrow 
 footpath, his weapon carelessly suspended in his 
 hand, he stood in full view of Smith, but with his 
 eyes in another direction, as if intently watching for 
 some object concealed in the forest. Captain Smith 
 was startled by his sudden appearance, and paused. 
 But perceiving the abstracted attention of a chief 
 
SINGLE COMBATS. 163 
 
 whom he immediately recognized, and to whom he 
 had been under essential obligation during his cap- 
 tivity, he felt no alarm. Resuming his walk, there- 
 fore, he attracted the notice of the Indian, whose 
 countenance at once lighted up with a pleasant smile 
 of welcome ; although with one hand he immediately 
 pointed to the forest, and with the other made a sign 
 for silence. Smith at once understood that Pashi- 
 phay was on the track of game ; an opinion confirmed 
 by the manner in which he carried his weapons. As 
 the two silently approached each other, the Indian 
 spoke in a whisper : " I am glad to see my friend. 
 Let us hunt the deer together." 
 
 " I have only my sword, Pashiphay, and cannot 
 shoot." 
 
 The chief's eye twinkled as he was reminded of 
 what he had before joyfully noticed ; but he quietly 
 observed : " Pashiphay will shoot. Come with me 
 this way," pointing in the direction where his men 
 lay concealed. u I will soon lay a buck at the feet of 
 my friend." 
 
 " Let Pashiphay kill his deer, and come to the fort. 
 I will send men to bring the game, and will pay you 
 copper." 
 
 " But I would have my friend see how great a 
 shoot I can make, — very long. Pashiphay is a great 
 hunter, and before the white werowance will bring 
 down the deer when I can only see the tip of his 
 horn. They have only started a little way. Come, 
 Captain Smith, and see great shoot." 
 
 " I know that Pashiphay is a great hunter and has 
 a sharp eye," said Smith ; " but my men wait for me 
 at the fort." And he began to resume his walk. 
 
164 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " The great chief of the whites is too proud to hunt 
 with the red man ; although he tried hard to save the 
 white chiefs life when he was Opechancanough's 
 captive." 
 
 " Pashiphay did so, and I am not ungrateful. But 
 would you have me neglect my great business ? No. 
 When I have time for sport, I will see you shoot. 
 But now I must go. When you have killed, come to 
 the fort, and you shall have good cheer." 
 
 " Hist! " whispered the Indian : " I hear the tread; 
 they come this way. Now you can see ; and Pashi- 
 phay will be proud." 
 
 Smith heard nothing; and he saw nothing but a 
 peculiar glint in the Indian's eye. Abandoning all 
 hope of drawing Smith in the direction of his ambush, 
 the chief rested his arrow upon his bow-string, looked 
 earnestly into the wood, and retreated a step or two, 
 watching as for the appearance of game. Smith 
 stepped in the same direction. Pashiphay no sooner 
 perceived this, than he knew its reason ; and, leaping 
 backward, was drawing his bow upon Smith, who, 
 quick as his foe, with one bound grappled him. The 
 whole movement had been so rapid, that Smith had 
 had no time to find his sword-hilt. It was now a 
 desperate hand-to-hand contest for life : the Indian of 
 large stature and brawny, the Englishman compara- 
 tively small, but lithe and agile. They had griped each 
 other by the arms ; and thus they stood for a brief 
 time, each weaponless and motionless, but reading in 
 the other's eyes the stern purpose of death. A contest 
 of main strength with such a foe left no reasonable 
 hope for the white man. The Indian's first effort was 
 to hurl him sideways upon the ground. Instead of re- 
 
SINGLE COMBATS. 165 
 
 sisting the impulse, Smith followed it ; and thus, by 
 a single leap, retained his footing. An attempt to 
 crush him was in like manner evaded ; but the 
 movement brought both to the ground. Neither of 
 them had loosed his gripe ; for neither would risk re- 
 ceiving, for the hope of giving, a blow. Struggling 
 and panting, they rolled convulsively one over the 
 other, the perpetual activity of Smith baffling every 
 attempt of the huge savage to plant his knee upon his 
 breast. Their violent and rapid contortions soon pro- 
 duced exhaustion, and they lay there without motion 
 for a few moments, the hot breath steaming in each 
 other's faces, while they glared upon each other with 
 unabated rage and defiance. The respite was brief. 
 They were again upon their knees, upon their feet ; 
 and the Indian now drew Smith by degrees toward 
 the river. In this his weight and muscular power 
 gave him the advantage. They were soon upon the 
 edge of the bank, a slight but abrupt descent, with 
 about waist-depth of water. Finding that he must 
 go, and resolving to go on equal terms, Smith locked 
 his leg with that of the savage, and both rolled rather 
 than fell into the stream. Long they struggled in the 
 water, until at length Smith's iron gripe was upon the 
 Indian's throat. He could not force him under, but 
 he had him at decided advantage, and improved it by 
 feeling for his sword. After several unsuccessful ef- 
 forts, he drew it from its sheath. Pashiphay now 
 would have cried for mercy ; but he was gasping for 
 mere breath, and his tongue hung powerless from his 
 mouth. He relaxed every muscle, laid his hands 
 quietly upon the arm which held him, turned his eyes, 
 already starting in their sockets, to Smith's, and said 
 
166 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 as plainly as looks and attitude could say, " Spare 
 me ! I yield ! " The point of the sword was at his 
 breast, but it dropped. The hand was loosened from 
 his throat. The strife was over. During the whole, 
 not a word had been spoken. Not a word was spoken 
 now. The powerful captive meekly obeyed the im- 
 perious signal of the victor, and walked before him to 
 the shore, to his bow and arrow, which were appro- 
 priated as trophies, and thence to the fort, where he 
 was chained and imprisoned. He soon escaped, how- 
 ever, with his irons upon him. 
 
 These attempts upon the life of Captain Smith not 
 only illustrate his boldness, his soldierly tact, and his 
 presence of mind, but they show the shrewdness of 
 Powhattan in detecting the real weakness of the colo- 
 nists, and in discerning in whom alone their great 
 strength lay. They also show how completely and 
 universally the forest monarch made his own decrees 
 the law of his subjects ; for so implicit was their obe- 
 dience, that they assailed the man whom most of all 
 they feared for his courage and skill, and whom they 
 regarded with even superstitious awe. Although so 
 often baffled, they continued their subtle hostilities, 
 until the word went forth from Powhattan' s mouth to 
 cease. 
 
 Two occurrences in particular contributed to this 
 change of policy in the savage autocrat. Very soon 
 after Smith's adventure with Pashiphay, one of Pow- 
 hattan's villagers had obtained — dishonestly, of course 
 — a bag of gunpowder and a piece of a suit of armor. 
 Upon his return to Werowocomoco, wishing to dis- 
 play to his fellows the wisdom which he had acquired, 
 he proceeded to dry the powder upon the armor-piece 
 
PEACE. 167 
 
 over a fire, as he had seen the soldiers do at James- 
 town. Several Indians clustered around him to wit- 
 ness the mysterious process. The powder took fire, 
 and blew the poor fellow, and two others, to atoms, 
 besides terribly scorching several of the by-standers, 
 and frightening the rest immeasurably. The appall- 
 ing effect of this catastrophe upon the minds of Pow- 
 hattan and his subjects can hardly be conceived. 
 Gunpowder, instead of being coveted, became an 
 object of the greatest dread ; while Superstition and 
 Conscience whispered in their ears that this stealing 
 from the whites was but a hare-brained trifling with 
 " the God of Captain Smith." 
 
 The other incident to which we refer was some- 
 what analogous. Three Indians, brothers, had been 
 concerned in stealing a pistol. One of them escaped 
 with the prize, but the other two were apprehended. 
 One of the two was liberated, and told, that, if he did 
 not find and return the pistol within twelve hours, the 
 other should be hung. The weather was still cold, 
 and Captain Smith ordered charcoal to be sent to the 
 prisoner for his comfort. In a few horns, the other 
 returned with the ransom for his brother's life. But 
 upon opening his apartment, he was found apparently 
 dead, overcome by the gas of the burning coal. Cap- 
 tain Smith, — who had come, with his cool common 
 sense and practical experience, to the poor fellow's 
 rescue, — being annoyed by the upbraidings and wait- 
 ings of the other, promised to restore his brother to 
 life. Almost hopeless as the case was, means of 
 resuscitation were vigorously used, and the man 
 recovered. 
 
 Here were two cases of theft. Each was followed, 
 
168 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 as the Indians believed, by death. In the first in- 
 stance, Smith was not at hand, did not interfere, and 
 the judgment of " Ms God " was irreparable. In the 
 second, he did interfere, and by his superhuman power 
 the dead was made alive again. What now could be 
 plainer than the insanity of contending with " Captain 
 Smith's God " ? "What more suicidal, than hostility 
 with a man under such protection, and having him- 
 self such power ? The superstitious awe with which 
 Powhattan and his subjects had before regarded 
 Smith was now revived, and became unbounded. 
 He, and all his chiefs, and " the better sort of his 
 people," were immediately importunate for peace. 
 Stolen goods were voluntarily returned ; the thieves 
 themselves were sent to Jamestown to receive punish- 
 ment ; and whenever the colonists detected and pun- 
 ished any, the culprits would beg that their chiefs 
 should not be told of their deeds, lest they should 
 receive a second punishment at home. It soon be- 
 came almost literally true, that " Captain Smith " 
 was a name of so much weight, that no Indian "dared 
 to wrong the colonists of a pin." He was no more 
 troubled with thefts, plots, or treacheries ; and the 
 English could roam as carelessly and safely through 
 the forests as the natives. So far did the latter carry 
 their friendliness, that when the colonists, under a 
 false apprehension, thought themselves about to be 
 attacked by a powerful force of Spanish rovers, they 
 " came forward with the greatest alacrity, and offered 
 to fight side by side with the English against their 
 enemies." 
 
 It was a timely and fortunate peace. When the 
 spring opened, the colonists discovered, to their con- 
 
PEACE. 169 
 
 sternation, that nearly one half their corn had been 
 devoured by rats, and that the other half, which had 
 been stored in casks, had rotted. In a condition so 
 dependent, a state of hostility would have been 
 fraught with woes alike to the Indians and to the 
 English. But now, no sooner was this condition 
 known abroad, than their late enemies came to their 
 succor. They sent to Jamestown " squirrels, turkies, 
 deere, and other wilde beasts " ; Powhattan sent them 
 nearly half his stock of corn ; and the humbler In- 
 dians bade them welcome to their wigwams and to a 
 share at their homely meals. Still, much wit and 
 labor were necessary on the part of the English to 
 gather food. The many lazy and profligate ones 
 rebelled against this necessity. They demanded that 
 the tools, the weapons, the very houses of the colony 
 should be bartered, rather than they be tasked to sus- 
 tain their own lives. They rose in wrath because 
 Smith — upon whom, by the death of Captain 
 Wynne, all authority had now devolved — would 
 not let them take by force the scanty remnant of 
 Powhattan's stores. They even conspired to aban- 
 don the colony. Orice more Smith taught them that 
 he was and would be master, seizing and signally 
 punishing their ringleader, " one Dyer, a crafty fel- 
 low, and his ancient maligner." 
 
 " If you are idle," said he to the rest, " I will force 
 you ; if you wrangle, I will punish you ; if you try 
 to run away, I will hang you. At the hazard of my 
 life have I many a time saved you, when you would 
 have starved through your own laziness and shiftless- 
 ness. But now, I protest by the God that made me, 
 you shall not only gather food for yourselves, but for 
 
 13 
 
170 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the sick also. Else you shall be banished from the 
 fort until you either mend your manners or starve." 
 
 It was no idle threat, this threat of banishment ; 
 for the Indians, with all their generous hospitality, 
 would not now bestow a kernel to save from starva- 
 tion any one who came to their huts without the ap- 
 proval of Captain Smith, and the lazy fellows knew 
 it. They called the President cruel and tyrannical, — 
 for which he cared not a groat ; but they submitted. 
 
 Thus were Smith's ingenuity, his courage, his 
 watchfulness, toil, and even martial severity, in con- 
 stant requisition to save the colony of which he was 
 the trustee, now from the machinations of the hos- 
 tile savage, and now from the malicious instigations 
 of the Devil. It was a harassing and almost hopeless 
 task ; but he did it. 
 
 In May of this year (1609), "the London Compa- 
 ny" changed the form of government in the colony.* 
 Lord Delaware was appointed Governor, or Captain- 
 
 * They obtained a new charter, by which they were empowered to 
 arrange and manage their affairs without the intervention of the king. 
 " The Supreme Council in England was now to be chosen by the stock- 
 holders themselves. The Governor in Virginia might rule the colonists 
 with uncontrolled authority, according to the tenor of instructions and 
 laws established by the Council ; or, in want of them, according to his 
 own good [or bad] discretion, even in cases capital and criminal, not less 
 than civil; and in the event of mutiny or rebellion, he might declare 
 martial law, being himself the judge of the necessity of the measure, and 
 the executive officer in its administration. Thus the lives, liberty, and 
 fortune of the colonists were placed at the arbitrary will of a governor 
 who was to be appointed by a commercial corporation. As yet, not one 
 valuable civil privilege was conceded to the emigrants." Bancroft, 1. 136. 
 They were regarded simply as a garrison stationed for the security of an 
 estate ; as servants employed for a master's profit. 
 
ANARCHY. 171 
 
 General, for life ; Sir Thomas Gates, Lieutenant-Gov- 
 ernor ; Sir George Somers, Admiral ; and Captain 
 Newport, Smith's avowed enemy, Vice- Admiral. In 
 the latter part of May, nine vessels sailed from Eng- 
 land for the colony, having on board five hundred 
 emigrants. Lord Delaware remained at home for the 
 present. Gates, Somers, and Newport had each a 
 commission, authorizing the first one of the three who 
 should arrive in Virginia to supersede the administra- 
 tion then existing there. They all embarked in the 
 same vessel, that so neither one might arrive first. 
 This vessel — the Sea- Venture — was parted from 
 the rest in a gale, on the 25th of July, when near 
 the coast of Virginia, and was stranded upon the 
 Bermudas Islands. Another small vessel was utter- 
 ly lost. The seven others, having on board about 
 three hundred emigrants, most of them moneyless, 
 graceless, and godless, arrived at Jamestown about 
 the 1st of August. 
 
 Here was a dilemma, — the old charter of the Com- 
 pany annulled, and they in whom the government 
 was vested under the new, tossed by the sea, no 
 one knew where. Here was a dilemma, — three 
 hundred new mouths to be fed, and scarce fifty pairs 
 of hands not too genteel to work. Here was a di- 
 lemma, — three hundred more dissolute, reckless, 
 unruly men to be governed, and no acknowledged 
 governor ; three hundred more to be governed, the 
 authority of the only man capable of governing 
 repudiated, himself an object of prejudice and dis- 
 like to the new-comers, and yet no one having a 
 right to supplant him. The result was what might 
 have been expected, — confusion, uproar, insubordi- 
 
172 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 nation, chaos, anarchy ; now one caprice dominant, 
 now another ; one governor to-day, a new governor 
 to-morrow ; a party for proceeding under the new 
 charter, a party for proceeding under the old, a party 
 for proceeding under nothing at all. " Happie had 
 we beene," are Smith's words, "had they never ar- 
 rived, and we forever abandoned ; for on earth, for 
 the number, was never more confusion or misery than 
 their factions occasioned." Some of those newly 
 arrived had common sense, and soon discovered that 
 the tales of Smith's incapacity and tyranny which 
 they had heard were libels. These joined with the 
 old settlers, who knew his worth and virtues, and 
 entreated him to assume the magistracy and save 
 them from destruction. His own disgust and every 
 selfish consideration prompted him otherwise ; but 
 he felt for the interests of the colony which he had 
 nurtured and shielded from its birth, and yielded. 
 The moment he did so, the whole community felt the 
 presence of a strong hand. There was a struggle, to 
 be sure ; but the factious ringleaders were at once im- 
 prisoned for trial, disorders quelled, and the machinery 
 of society was once more in motion. 
 
 In arranging the affairs of the new community, 
 Smith made what appears to have been the first ter- 
 ritorial purchase of Powhattan, — a place called by 
 the chief's name, just below the falls of the river, — 
 the same where his first interview with Smith and 
 Newport occurred. 
 
 But the mission of Smith in Virginia was nearly 
 closed. Passing down the river from his new pur- 
 chase, a bag of gunpowder exploded by his side while 
 he was asleep. He was terribly mangled ; and, in 
 
ANARCHY. 173 
 
 the agony and distraction of the moment, leaped into 
 the river, from which he was rescued in a drowning 
 state. The voyage of one hundred miles in an open 
 boat to Jamestown was accomplished under excru- 
 ciating suffering. Yet when he arrived there, " unable 
 to stand, and neere bereft of his senses by reason of 
 his torment," he was obliged to exercise the mental 
 energy of a hale man, to meet the domestic exigencies 
 of the colony. 
 
 RadclifTe — the whilom President, "the poore coun- 
 terfeited imposture" whom Smith had sent home that 
 his throat might not be cut — was among the new- 
 comers, and the chief of all mutineers and conspira- 
 tors. He was one of those whom Smith had recently 
 imprisoned to await their trial. This miscreant and 
 his accomplices yielded to the temptation, which his 
 helpless condition suggested, to take the life of Smith 
 by assassinating him in his bed. The villain selected 
 for the murder failed. At the critical moment, he 
 had not the courage to fire his pistol at that man. 
 Baffled in this scheme, the conspirators aimed at 
 usurping the government. But the sick man was 
 yet too strong for imbecile knaves. His old soldiers, 
 the stanch followers of his past fortunes, the com- 
 rades of his wilderness toils, were exasperated by these 
 infamous attempts. They now gathered around his 
 bed, and besought him for orders to bring the heads 
 of the mutineers. 
 
 " No, my friends," was his answer, " I am a crip- 
 pled man. I may fairly retire from this sickening 
 strife. If I crush insubordination, I shall be blamed 
 at home ; if I fail to, I shall be blamed. So it has 
 been for two years. So it will continue to be. Be- 
 
 15* 
 
174 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 sides, such summary justice would lead to a civil 
 war, — a woe which I would not bring upon this 
 community." 
 
 His wounds grew more dangerous. English sur- 
 gery was necessary to save his life. So he placed 
 the government of the colony in the hands of Lieu- 
 tenant Percy, and sailed for England about the 29th 
 of September, 1609, being then only thirty years of 
 age. " He left behind him four hundred and ninety 
 colonists, one hundred of whom were trained and 
 expert soldiers, three ships, seven boats, twenty-four 
 pieces of ordnance, three hundred muskets and other 
 arms, abundance of ammunition and tools, wearing- 
 apparel sufficient for all their wants, and an ample 
 stock of domestic animals and provisions." 
 
 If history is worth anything, it is valuable as an 
 exponent of Divine Providence, — as illustrating how 
 He who plans and evolves those signal events which 
 most attract the statesman and the Christian, not 
 only endows, but educates, the men by whose agency 
 He brings them to pass. In comparing their prepara- 
 tory training with the peculiar spheres in which they 
 have afterwards been called to act, we cannot fail to 
 admire the plastic skill with which He adapts the 
 former to the latter. With an eye to this truth, we 
 have enlarged upon the providential apprenticeship of 
 John Smith, though not necessary to narrating the 
 settlement of Virginia. In his case, and in that of 
 Christopher Columbus, pre-eminently, by going back 
 in their memoirs, we see how, and how thoroughly, 
 the men were educated for their respective parts in 
 the drama of the Western World. 
 
ANARCHY. 175 
 
 We recognize the same overruling Wisdom, as we 
 record that Smith appeared no more as an actor on 
 the scene of our narrative ; for the young Father of 
 Virginia was withdrawn by no human calculations or 
 agency, but, to use a significant popular phrase, "by 
 the providence of God." Though we presume not to 
 divine its reasons, yet his withdrawal just before the 
 imposition of a new and questionable system of gov- 
 ernment suggests that his presence may not have 
 been needed under the new order of things, or that 
 his high and soldierly spirit might have proved a dis- 
 cordant element under an administration so peculiar. 
 He was withdrawn just before the incoming of a new 
 magistracy ; but, let it be observed, just long enough 
 before to demonstrate for ever his controlling capaci- 
 ties and his conservative worth.* 
 
 * In 1614, Smith explored the coast of North Virginia, as it was then 
 called, to which he gave the name, ever since retained, of New England. 
 On this voyage, he constructed a map of the whole country, from the 
 Penobscot to Cape Cod. After his return, a year and a half were con- 
 sumed in a series of misadventures at sea. He passed the rest of his life 
 in England, occupied wholly in American affairs. These, he said, " were 
 his children, his wife, his hawks, his hounds, his cards, his dice, and in 
 totall, his best content." The mercantile bodies, whose pulses were 
 purses, whose souls were account-books, were shy of his service ; partly 
 because they could only appreciate profit and loss, partly because they 
 were jealous of one who aspired to things greater. His inestimable ser- 
 vices in Virginia and on the coast of New England were unrequited, 
 although they had consumed all his pecuniary means and the flower of 
 his life. " In neither of these two countries," said he, " have I one foot 
 of land, nor the very house I builded, nor the ground I digged with my 
 own hands, nor any content or satisfaction [i. e. emolument] at all." 
 
 After his return from New England, he wrote, published, and dis- 
 tributed no less than seven different volumes, all of them but two relat- 
 ing to America. He died in London in 1631, in the fifty-second year of 
 his age, occupied to the very last in writing, for publication, the results 
 
176 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 of his own world-wide experience. Of the particulars of his death there 
 is no record. 
 
 His public character needs no analysis or eulogy. The simple narra- 
 tive of his life is sufficient. In regard to his private morals, it is enough 
 to quote two lines, eulogistic to be sure, but significant. The author 
 shall indicate himself. 
 
 " I never knew a warrior yet, but thee, 
 From wine, tobacco, debts, dice, oaths, so free." 
 
 "Your true friend, sometimes your souldier, 
 
 Tho. Carlton." 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE LAST CAKOUSE.— STARVATION. — RESCUE. 
 
 The months passed along, bearing their sev- 
 eral records to be sealed up unto the day of 
 revelation. From September to April, one after an- 
 other, they had grown old, and dropped into the abyss 
 of the Past, each burdened with its tale of human 
 behavior and Heavenly mercy. April, as she lingered 
 on her last day of grace, turned her parting look over 
 the Virginian landscape, smiled upon the fresh verdure 
 of the forest, but dropped plenteous tears upon the set- 
 tlement of Jamestown. The foliage was yet dripping 
 with her affusions, the declining sun was limning the 
 gorgeous memorial of God's covenant on the falling 
 spray, and wood-birds were striving one with another 
 to render their glad tribute of melody to Him whose 
 bow was there on the cloud. Why did the expiring 
 month smile ? Because all around God's works were 
 glorious. Why did she weep ? Because all around 
 man's were grievous. 
 
 The fortress was still there, unimpaired and bris- 
 tling with ordnance. The dwellings were still there, 
 rude indeed, but sufficient for the comfort of many a 
 household. The little church was still there, with its 
 modest spire, an index to " things above." The graves 
 of the dead — of Gosnold, and Stevens, and Scrivener, 
 and Waldo — were there, covered with green turf 
 
178 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 and flowers ; while near them were many, many other 
 mounds, on which no turf yet grew and no flowers 
 bloomed. "Where were the living, and what ? 
 
 There were two soldiers on the ramparts. There 
 was a sentinel in the gateway. There were four men 
 coming up from the block -house on "the neck." 
 There were a dozen sitting in the doors of the dwell- 
 ings. Yet none were in motion but the four ; and not 
 the sound of a voice was to be heard, except from 
 within the embrasure of the fort. In one retired 
 apartment there were half a dozen men, whose sounds 
 of revelry broke strangely upon the ears of the lone 
 sentry, and accorded little with the portentous aspect 
 of the settlement without. These men were in mili- 
 tary costume, and wore badges of office. It was evi- 
 dent that they had been eating at the table at which 
 they were seated, although not a fragment was now 
 to be seen. The bottle, however, was in circulation ; 
 and the inflamed though haggard faces of the party 
 showed that it had been. They were evidently the 
 victims both of hunger and of inebriety. As the last 
 chorus of a wild and profane song ceased, one of them 
 rose to his feet with some difficulty, and addressed 
 the others with a ludicrous attempt at oratory. 
 
 " Fellow-soldiers, and fellow-sinners ! Thus far we 
 have kept Death at bay. Some of our men have been 
 fools enough to be murdered by the savages. Some 
 of them have been fools enough to starve. But we 
 have had good sense enough to keep at home, and be 
 merry. Many a jolly time have we had here ; for 
 though our larder has been low, and hunger has 
 pinched us, yet good-fellowship and merriment — 
 thanks to the bottle — have abounded in our mess. 
 
THE LAST CAROUSE. 179 
 
 Let the memory of them be blessed! I have the 
 honor now to announce, that our roistering hours are 
 over. Our last handful of meal, our last cruse of oil, 
 are gone. Our last bottle is before us. Upon this 
 affecting occasion, I give you a sentiment which I 
 heartily commend to your adoption. I am indebted 
 for it to one Horatius Flaccus, an old Roman whose 
 odes were whipped into me at Eton. But as his own 
 sweet words have gone from me, let me give you their 
 meaning in our mother tongue : 
 
 ' Fill the goblet fair ! 
 
 Every drop we sprinkle 
 O'er the brow of care, 
 
 Smooths away a wrinkle.' " 
 
 A wild hurrah rang through the room, and reached 
 the ears of miserable wretches beyond its walls, as he 
 concluded. When it had subsided, a young man of 
 the company exclaimed : " Good, good, Mr. Thorn- 
 hill ! Let me echo to your sentiment in the vernacu- 
 lar of the old Epicureans, who always had their hearts 
 in their right places : ' Bum vivimus, vivamus ! ' which 
 being freely interpreted means, ' While we live, let us 
 drink ! ' or, which is the same thing, ' While we drink, 
 we live ! ' " 
 
 Another shout of applause followed these words of 
 the dying youth, as he suited the action to the word, 
 and drank madly from the bottle which he held in his 
 hand. 
 
 " Pass it along ! pass it along, Wilton ! " exclaimed 
 the others ; and with a trembling hand he obeyed. 
 
 We said, "the dying youth." Let us explain. 
 Wilton was one of those "dissipated young men 
 exiled by their friends to escape a worse destiny at 
 
180 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 home." He was of good family and education, as 
 were his fellow-officers around him. But his relatives 
 — too indolent, or too pleasure-loving, or too busy to 
 take pains for his salvation — had thrust him away, 
 by frowns, by neglect, by harshness, from all redeem- 
 ing influences. He gave himself up, of course, and 
 was beyond redemption. A noble-minded, noble- 
 hearted young man, willing to fight hard for deliver- 
 ance, if he could only have one arm to lean upon in 
 his hours of weakness and temptation ; who wept, and 
 even prayed, in secret places, over his vice ; who wept 
 over and cursed his friendlessness ; who writhed, not 
 only under the goadings of conscience, but even more 
 under the scorn and wrong of kindred ; so soon as he 
 believed himself an outcast — was lost. No matter! 
 u friends " were relieved. 
 
 He still retained, in his personal appearance, indi- 
 cations of what he had been. He was of a slender 
 and graceful form ; the outline of his features was 
 noble ; and, though his intellectual energies were 
 shattered, they were still discernible, as well as his 
 amiability, in his hours of sobriety. Just now, how- 
 ever, the man was hidden in the sot. There was 
 nothing stolid or stupefied in the expression of his eye 
 under the influence of this debauch. It blazed. As 
 he drank again, and still again, it rapidly grew rest- 
 less, wild, anxious, alarmed. The stimulus which he 
 plied seemed to have no power to nerve his system, 
 which grew more and more tremulous with every 
 draught. The bottle, the last bottle, came to him 
 again. He filled his cup, and was in the act of rais- 
 ing it to his lips, when he suddenly looked upon a 
 boon companion opposite, and, spilling half its con- 
 tents, set the cup upon the table. 
 
THE LAST CAROUSE. 181 
 
 the matter, Wilton ? " exclaimed the 
 other. 
 
 " By Jupiter! by Bacchus ! "What 's the matter with 
 you, Newell ? " 
 
 " Pass the bottle ! pass the bottle ! " cried Thorn- 
 hill. 
 
 Wilton paid no attention to the demand, but con- 
 tinued to gaze upon Newell. The gaze became a 
 glare. " By all the immortal gods, goddesses, satyrs, 
 fauns, and demons, Newell, what are you about ? " 
 
 " Asking you a question. What are you star- 
 ing at?" 
 
 The attention of the whole company was now riv- 
 eted upon the young man ; and some of them began 
 to be alarmed as they saw the unnatural expression of 
 his features. 
 
 " I say, Newell ! " — and he fairly roared as he said 
 it, — " what are you spirting that fire at me for ? If 
 it does hit my face, by — , I '11 be the death of you ! " 
 
 " Wilton ! Wilton ! " said a companion, taking hold 
 of his arm. 
 
 " Let me alone, Branton ! " and he threw off the 
 grasp with a spasmodic jerk, while he still kept an 
 apprehensive look upon Newell. Suddenly he cringed 
 his head, as though struck by some missile ; and, 
 starting the next instant from his seat, hurled the 
 bottle, which he still held in his grasp, with all his 
 force at Newell. The half-intoxicated man made a 
 feeble and awkward effort to avoid it, but it struck 
 him full in the face, and he fell, stunned and bleeding, 
 on the floor. 
 
 All was now uproar and confusion. Thornhill and 
 Shirley staggered to the assistance of Newell, while 
 
 16 
 
182 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Branton and Law ton, the sixth of the party, made 
 ineffectual efforts to secure Wilton. 
 
 " Keep off! keep off, you devils ! " cried the frantic 
 man, retreating, and beating the air with his arms. 
 His pursuers, a little sobered by their fright, approached 
 him timidly ; but he ran and dodged about the room 
 with an agility which mocked their efforts. At last 
 he placed his back against a corner of the apartment, 
 and paused. The muscles of his face, his open 
 mouth, the heaving of his chest, and his peculiar res- 
 piration, denoted fright rather than fatigue. Branton 
 and Lawton stood aloof. Fixing his eye upon the 
 latter, the terror-stricken man gasped out : " Captain 
 Radcliffe ! Captain Radcliffe ! » 
 
 Radcliffe, it was well known by the wretched rem- 
 nant of the colony, had been brained, with thirty of 
 his men, by the order and in the presence of Powhat- 
 tan, some three months before. 
 
 " Ugh ! " continued Wilton, with a shudder ; " how 
 your brains do dribble ! I beg — I beg — Captain 
 Radcliffe ! Don't, don't spatter them in my face ! 
 For Heaven's sake, don't ! " And he wound his arms 
 around his head as if to shield it. He then bounded 
 from his place for an open window, and leaped through 
 it upon the ground. The fall was but little, but Wil* 
 ton lay there as if paralyzed. Lawton and Branton, 
 with the help of three or four feeble, emaciated, but 
 sober men, now succeeded in securing the maniac, 
 and conveying him, in a state of utter exhaustion 
 from terror, to a private apartment. 
 
 The last sun of April was just dipping behind the 
 wooded hills, and he looked through the casement as 
 the outcast inebriate was laid senseless on his pallet. 
 
STARVATION. 183 
 
 There, through the livelong night, sobbed and moaned 
 the gifted castaway ; his heart throbbing faster and 
 feebler, until it fluttered, stopped, fluttered a little 
 while again, then ceased to beat for ever. His 
 " friends " were relieved ! 
 
 Such was the last carouse of the officers in the 
 fort at Jamestown, the last of their very many since 
 the 29th of September. What were the pastimes of 
 others ? 
 
 The sentinel at the gateway and the two soldiers 
 on the ramparts had not been there in the performance 
 of military duty. Such a thing was hardly thought 
 of now, though never more necessary. They were 
 there to quiet their own impatience, eagerly watching 
 for the return of comrades who had gone out into the 
 forest. They were very much emaciated, with hollow 
 cheeks, and sunken eyes, and skinny hands, leaning 
 against the walls for support, and shuffling along 
 whenever they walked, as if it were a grief to move, — 
 and so it was. As soon as those before mentioned as 
 coming up from the block-house on " the neck " were 
 seen, the two on the ramparts exerted themselves, and 
 joined the sentinel, as we have called him, at the gate. 
 Before long, the scouts came up, — meagre, gaunt, 
 disheartened-looking men like the others, — creeping 
 painfully along, and sat down wearied in the gateway. 
 These seven were the strong men of the commoners, 
 the bullies whom none dared to interfere with, for 
 they were the only ones except the drunken officers 
 who had weapons. They had formed a sort of 
 league, and constituted a clan by themselves. The 
 " sentinel," Hicks, was head-man, and one of the new- 
 comers, Spicer, second-man. Without one of these, 
 
184 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 none of the party ever left the fort. As Spicer and 
 his fellows seated themselves, the others looked wist- 
 fully at them in silence. 
 
 After waiting a moment, Hicks spoke angrily: 
 u What do you wait for, Spicer ? Undo your bud- 
 get ; — quick, man ! " 
 
 " Can't you let me get my breath ? " 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 Spicer drew a small bag from the skirt of his coat, 
 and threw it upon the ground. " There 's your stuff; 
 we 've had enough of it." 
 
 The few nuts and roots were quickly divided be- 
 tween the three who had remained in the fort, and 
 were quickly devoured. 
 
 The shouts of the officers at their revels now sound- 
 ed upon their ears, and the wretched men's faces, as 
 they looked one at another, were eloquent of indigna- 
 tion. They remained silent and sullen, however, until 
 the second shout, occasioned by the response of the 
 miserable Wilton to the words of Thornhill. Hicks 
 could restrain his wrath no longer. 
 
 " Curse the rascals ! " he exclaimed, grinding his 
 teeth and clenching his bony fists. " They 'd get 
 drunk at their mothers' funerals, and dance on their 
 mothers' graves, rather than not get drunk at all ! " 
 
 " Rayther a change, Captain, from the old order of 
 things ! " said one of the men with a sarcastic drawl. 
 
 " Wiggins, Strickland, Jones, Lane, Spicer, — 
 every one of you, — we are not given to praying," 
 said Hicks, with a wild look of fury ; " but I am going 
 to pray now, and do you pray with me, for these fel- 
 lows who hold back bread from the starving, who riot 
 and make merry and get drunk among the dying and 
 the dead!" 
 
 
STARVATION. 185 
 
 He uncovered his head ; the others uncovered also. 
 It was an impressive scene, that grizzly soldier of 
 nearly threescore years, his hair worn scant and thin 
 by the pressure of his casque, turning up his sunken 
 eyeballs and stretching out his arms imploringly to 
 heaven. Every line of his haggard face was alive, and 
 he uttered as earnest a prayer as ever came from trem- 
 bling lips ; but it was an awful, a vehement pleading 
 for the hot and speedy wrath of the Almighty upon 
 the men who made sport in the midst of overwhelm- 
 ing miseries ! His comrades shuddered as he pro- 
 nounced his husky, but vigorous " Amen ! " and Hicks 
 himself shuddered too, buried his face in his hands, 
 bent his head upon his knees, and went into a convul- 
 sive fit of weeping. His companions, at first awed by 
 the terribleness and energy of his imprecations, were 
 now frightened by a passion which rapidly became 
 agony. But when he tore his own hair, and bit his 
 own flesh, and glared about like a maniac, two of 
 them sprang upon him, first to secure, and then to 
 soothe, while the others stood aloof through fear. 
 Hicks soon yielded to a few kind words and services, 
 and his anguish subsided into intermittent fits of sob- 
 bing, when Spicer and Lane judiciously conveyed the 
 sufferer to his dwelling. The rest remained, until the 
 plunge of poor Wilton from the window demanded 
 their service. 
 
 " May God forgive me ! " said the wretched Hicks, 
 as he lay on his bed about midnight, surrounded by 
 his comrades. " I was frenzied with famine ; but — 
 but they were horrible words ! " 
 
 He wept again, but they were quiet and relieving 
 tears, which wet his pillow. The sudden paroxysm 
 
 16* 
 
186 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 of his insanity — for such it had been — had passed ; 
 and after a few inquiries about Wilton, and a few 
 ejaculations for mercy upon the dying man, whom he 
 did not mean to curse, he relapsed into a short slum- 
 ber. When he awoke, he found his friends still 
 watching by his side, and, raising himself to a sit- 
 ting posture, " Look there ! " said he, " and there ! " 
 pointing with his finger to different parts of the room. 
 " You see what we are coming to. Shall we come to 
 it, or shall we not ? that 's the question." 
 
 The men looked, and though, through familiarity 
 with such scenes and their own sufferings, they were 
 past pity, they shuddered as they saw what them- 
 selves might be. The objects which Hicks indicated 
 were an attenuated corpse, with its chin dropped and 
 its glassy eyes open, near the centre of the room, and 
 a dying man who sat against the wall, holding the 
 fragment of a cast-off shoe, and mumbling it between 
 his teeth. 
 
 u Now," continued Hicks, in a sepulchral whisper, 
 " we must come to it, or do something which is hor- 
 rible. No ! " and he shook his head, as he caught a 
 look from the others which needed no interpretation. 
 " No ! not them ! But — but — " He stopped, as if 
 he could not say what he must. 
 
 " It 's no use mincing matters," he resumed. " We 
 must, — we must. Come," said he, with a ghastly 
 effort to smile, and rising to his feet. " Take a spade, 
 Wiggins, and a tinder-box." 
 
 And so they went, in the still watches of the night, 
 far away from the frenzied shrieks and feeble moan- 
 ings of the starving, into the placid and moonlit forest, 
 to the shallow grave of an Indian whom Hicks had 
 
STARVATION. 187 
 
 shot and covered a few days before ; and they kin- 
 dled a fire, and they uncovered the dead, and * * * * 
 And then they slept there in the quiet wood, gorged 
 to satiety, until the birds woke them with their morn- 
 ing songs to God. And again those men went there, 
 and yet again, and they throve and grew strong ; but 
 when the birds sang in the mornings, they did not 
 sing with them. 
 
 During the first night-excursion of Hicks and his 
 comrades, there was a man sitting on a stone by his 
 doorway. He could not sleep for the agony of that 
 gnawing — gnawing — gnawing sensation of madden- 
 ing hunger. But just within the open door his wife 
 was slumbering; for, with her, the ravening, acute 
 suffering of starvation had passed, and she was just 
 merging into that comparative stupor which next 
 supervenes. Her slumbers, however, were light and 
 uneasy. The man, — who was he? John Laydon, 
 who had married with Anne Burras ? Our authori- 
 ties do not say. The man sat there alone, chewing 
 an old glove, while the moon smiled upon him, and 
 the whippoorwill sang to him, just as though they 
 could make him happy. Well, instead of that, they 
 made him mad, — mad, — for he was starving, and 
 fancied that they were mocking him. There was an 
 axe at the door-sill. He saw it shine in the moon- 
 light, and he smiled. He did ; he smiled, — that 
 starving wretch ! And then he slowly and feebly got 
 up ; and he looked at the axe again, and then he 
 took it. 
 
 " O John ! John ! " cried the wife ; for though he 
 had crept in like a cat, she had heard his heavy, agi- 
 tated breathing, and seen him raise the axe. She 
 
188 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 sprang to her feet ; but the hot blood spirted from her 
 shoulder, for the light was imperfect, and the blow 
 had been unsteady. 
 
 li O John ! do not ! do not ! " and she fell upon 
 her knees, and flung her lean arms, as strongly as she 
 could, around his waist. Though he struggled to 
 push her off, she managed to say : " We have loved, 
 we have prayed together ; and now let us die as God 
 pleases, only together, John, — together ! DonH strike 
 again ; but kiss me, — kiss me once more, and then 
 we will go, and — " 
 
 They were her last words. 
 
 For two, three, four days, the man grew stronger. 
 But he was gloomy, and kept out of sight ; and when 
 by chance he met some one, he was so shy, and had 
 such a hang-dog look, as to attract attention. To the 
 question, " Where is your wife, John ? " put to him 
 occasionally by a neighbor, he had not courage -even 
 to say, " She has died as the others have died." He 
 was dumb, and slunk away. Suspicion, or at least 
 curiosity, was roused. 
 
 " Good God, sir!" said Branton to ThornhiU, "half 
 the man's wife was — was — in brine, sir ! Yes, sir ! " 
 gasping as he said it ; " and he confessed that — that 
 — the other half he — he had — had — By Lucifer, 
 sir, you must guess it ! " and he sank fainting on a 
 chair. 
 
 John " was burnt [alive ?] for murdering and 
 
 eating his own wife." * 
 
 * Smith, 105. Stith, 116. This fact is denied on the testimony of 
 Sir Thomas Gates. The denial, very awkwardly framed, is in " The 
 True Declaration," p. 16, in Force, III., — a paper issued by the Council 
 in England expressly " to confute scandalous reports/' The substance 
 
STARVATION. 189 
 
 And who was it that crept by night through the 
 little churchyard to violate the sanctity of the grave ? 
 Who was it that rifled the corpses of his own com- 
 rades from the places where they had been laid to rest 
 until the consummation of all things ? Who was it 
 that dug there, like the hyena, to satisfy the gnaw- 
 ings of his hunger ? Who was it that did this again 
 and again, until he had created within himself a new 
 appetite, as imperious and insatiable as it was demo- 
 niacal, — whose sacrilegious craving no remonstrance 
 of the living, no expressions of detestation, no threats 
 of punishment, could restrain, — who was so frenzied 
 by his horrid indulgence, that nothing but a felon's 
 death could end it ? Some one, but we know not 
 who ; for though History has recorded his enormity, 
 she has refused to write his name. He was not the 
 only one who did this thing, but the only one incor- 
 rigible. 
 
 After such statements, it is but a small thing to 
 
 — . ' ■ ■ ■ 
 
 of Gates's statement is, that the murder was instigated only by hatred, 
 and that the frenzy of starvation was feigned as a palliation of the mur- 
 der. But Gates was not present at Jamestown at the time, and must 
 have founded his version on hearsay. 
 
 In opposition to this, we have the best possible testimony, — the sol- 
 emn declaration of " eyewitnesses and sufferers in those times/' — mem- 
 bers of the legislature of Virginia in 1624. In their address in answer 
 to the praises given to the administration under Sir Thomas Smith as 
 Treasurer of the Company, dated February, 1624, — an address signed 
 by Sir Francis Wyatt, the Governor his Council, and twenty -four 
 Burgesses, nearly or quite the full number of the House, — they state 
 the fact recorded in our text positively and clearly. This address is in I 
 Stith, 304-307. 
 
 Campbell (p. 30) adopts Gates's explanation ; yet, in a note, quotes 
 as authority on another point this very address of the eyewitnesses. 
 
 This paper is also our authority for the succeeding statements in our 
 text. 
 
190 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 say, that the wretched colonists " were constrained to 
 eat dogs, cats, rats, snakes, toadstools, horse-hides, 
 and what not " ; it is but a small thing to believe 
 that "riotous officers" punished " those who had fled 
 to the savages for relief, by hanging, shooting, break- 
 ing upon the wheel, and the like " ; or that a starving 
 man, " for stealing two or three pints of oatmeal, had 
 a bodkin thrust through his tongue, and was chained 
 to a tree till he perished." * There was some temp- 
 tation in such exigencies to diminish the number of 
 mouths. 
 
 Such were the terrible scenes at Jamestown in the 
 spring of 1610. One after another, the wretched men 
 and women and children pined, and grew frantic with 
 hunger and despair. One after another they died, 
 and the emaciated survivors dragged them to burial. 
 
 It should be stated, however, that Mr. Percy, to 
 whom Captain Smith had committed the govern- 
 ment, was in no way responsible for the miseries of 
 the colonists or the excesses of the officers. For a 
 long time he had labored under violent disease, and, 
 when Smith was compelled to leave, had already 
 taken his passage to England. The necessities and 
 importunities of the colonists prevailed upon him to 
 remain. But during the whole of this dreadful time 
 he was unable to rise from his bed. 
 
 But where were the ships, and where the abun- 
 dant stores, and where the stock of swine and fowls, 
 
 * The address of the Assembly describes events covering a space of 
 twelve years, and does not assign dates to the several facts which it 
 specifies. But that these punishments occurred there can be no doubt ; 
 and at what other period of the colony's history could they have occurred, 
 than the Starving Time of 1610 ? 
 
STARVATION. 191 
 
 and where the abundant means of procuring fish and 
 game, which Smith had left behind ? And where were 
 the Indians, with their large supplies and their ready 
 hospitality; — the Indians, who had sued for peace, 
 who had anxiously ratified and cemented it by eager 
 liberality ? Ay ! ask rather, Where was John Smith ? 
 Where was his authority, — his foresight, — his provi- 
 dence, — his magic influence over the red man ? Two 
 of the three vessels had left for England, " laden with 
 nothing but bad reports and letters of discourage- 
 ment." From the moment of Smith's departure, dis- 
 order had run riot ; revolutions had followed one 
 after another ; the strongest had ruled, — one set 
 with their President yesterday, another set with 
 their President to-day. The granaries had been 
 wastefully exhausted. The people had abandoned 
 themselves to such laziness, " that they would eat 
 fish raw, rather than go a stone's cast to fetch wood 
 and dresse it." For the same reason, they had neg- 
 lected to secure and salt down, in the season, the 
 sturgeon with which the river abounded, and had 
 even suffered their nets to be spoiled beyond repair. 
 The Indians, discovering the absence of the master- 
 spirit whom they had revered and almost idolized, 
 had renewed hostilities, and murdered from ambush 
 every straggler from the fort. They had stolen and 
 destroyed the live stock of the colonists ; they had 
 spoiled their boats ; they had driven all the deer into 
 distant forests ; they had withholden their corn, or 
 only exchanged it, at high rates, for firelocks and 
 swords. These had been insanely bartered away for 
 food by the colonists, who thus gradually gave up 
 both their means of defence and of hunting. The 
 
192 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 more they parted with their weapons, the more exor- 
 bitant had grown the rates of exchange, and the more i 
 bold and bloody the hostilities of the Indians. Pow- 
 hattan gloried in scalps. 
 
 Before these hostilities had become flagrant, the 
 third vessel which had been left by Smith — the 
 Swallow — had been sent out to procure corn from 
 the Indians ; but her crew, about thirty in number, 
 after procuring a large quantity, resolved upon piracy, 
 and took to the high seas. 
 
 Radcliffe, with thirty men, had then made an at- 
 tempt at trade with Powhattan, upon the strength of 
 the chief's invitation. " Under the color of the fairest 
 friendship," the crafty savage had managed to entice 
 them one by one into different houses, and thus easily 
 murdered all, save one who escaped, and a boy, Henry 
 Spilman, whom Pocahontas contrived to save. 
 
 By these several means, it had come to pass by 
 midwinter that the remnant of the colonists were re- 
 duced to utter destitution, and the slow, wolvish 
 work of famine commenced. Hence the miseries 
 and horrors which we have noted. 
 
 Starving, lamenting — even his worst enemies and 
 maligners lamenting — the absence of Captain Smith, 
 growing gaunt, and weak, and unpitying, and brutal, 
 — some idiotic, some raving mad, shrinking to living 
 skeletons before lying down to die, — thus the col- 
 ony mourned and suffered, dwindled and lingered. 
 Three dreadful weeks in May the survivors struggled 
 on, skulking about in the woods, dodging the In- 
 dians, picking berries, and digging roots, until they 
 had no more hope. 
 
 An hour or two after sunrise on the 24th of May, a 
 
RESCUE. 193 
 
 faint, booming sound was heard by the despairing 
 remnant, like the sound of a distant cannon. The 
 men raised their drooping heads for a moment, and 
 looked at one another ; but not a whispered word 
 broke the sullen gloom of Jamestown. An hour 
 afterwards came another sound like the first, but 
 more like a real one. A few men now staggered to 
 their feet and listened. They began to draw togeth- 
 er, — those who could ; for in their starving jealousy, 
 and even hate, each one had kept by himself. Fel- 
 lowship had become obsolete. They now spoke one 
 to another, in whispered monosyllables at first, they 
 had become so unused to speech. " Hark ! " "A 
 gun ? " " D' ye hear ? " "A tree fell." Such was 
 the crusty conversation which the few attempted. 
 But again and again that sound ! It was a gun! 
 Some vessel must be coming up the river ! When, 
 at length, a signal was given from Hog Island, by 
 a few of their number who had managed to ferry 
 thither, that two vessels were in sight, the settlement 
 presented a most affecting scene. The poor wretches 
 knew not, and cared not, whether they bore Spanish 
 foes or English friends. There must be life on 
 board, — humanity, — food, — plenty, — deliverance, 
 — Paradise ! Enough ! enough ! The transition was 
 so great and so sudden from fiendish despair to hope, 
 to assurance, to feverish impatience, that some sank 
 into insensibility, some leaped about wild with excite- 
 ment, — here one uttering a tolerable English shout, 
 there another making a most unearthly failure. All 
 who could crept to the shore ; but there were many 
 who could only reach their thresholds ; some, help- 
 less and neglected in their dwellings, who could only 
 
 17 
 
194 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 wonder at those strange noises without, so like holi 
 day sounds in good old England ; some, who lay still 
 and stark upon their floors, or on the open ground, 
 and who could not hear. Upon the shore, some were 
 looking eagerly for the coming sail ; some stood still 
 and wept, and wept hysterically ; and a few calmly 
 kneeled down there and gave solemn thanks to God. 
 
 "What a meeting ! The commissioners, Gates, 
 Somers, and Newport, who had constructed two 
 small vessels from their wreck on the Bermudas, 
 came on shore, expecting to find a home with a 
 strong and prosperous colony. The handful who 
 stood there, so attenuated, so shadowy, so forlorn, 
 seemed like wandering ghosts on the banks of the 
 Styx. The resuscitation of the settlement was de- 
 bated, but abandoned ; for the vessels were deficient 
 in the necessary supplies, and the miserable residents 
 had no heart for anything but to escape from a place 
 where they had witnessed and suffered such unspeak- 
 able horrors. It was therefore promptly decided to 
 gather up the fragments of humanity which remained, 
 and to set their faces homeward. 
 
 But there were preliminary tasks. There were un- 
 buried dead to be put out of sight. There were men 
 whose pulses scarcely beat to be revived, and only by 
 the most delicate treatment ; and even those who had 
 most of life were to be restrained from fatal indul- 
 gence, and rendered fit by slow degrees for the ordi- 
 nary fatigues of the sea. These melancholy but in- 
 dispensable duties occupied fourteen days. On the 
 8th day of June, the fort and hamlet, the church and 
 churchyard of Jamestown, were the only relics there 
 of heroic efforts and of graceless follies. 
 
 
RESCUE. 195 
 
 Of the five hundred persons whom Smith had left 
 there with all the furniture for prosperity, thirty had 
 turned pirates on the sea, and the rest had been cut 
 off by the Indians and by famine, except sixty who 
 embarked with the commissioners, and who, had 
 relief been deferred but three days longer, would also 
 have been among the dead. 
 
 The unplanted corn-field, the dismantled fort, the si- 
 lent church, the deserted cabins, the uncounted graves, 
 — what a governor Lord Delaware would be ! 
 
 The moment when man's impotence is demon- 
 strated is the choice and chosen moment for God's 
 intervention. It is the moment for disclosing his 
 careful oversight, — so little noted, yet ever and every- 
 where maintained. It is the moment when his provi- 
 dence is intuitively acknowledged ; when his hand is 
 clearly recognized ; when his deliverance is welcomed 
 and appreciated, and devoutly praised. Such was the 
 exigency which we are recording. 
 
 Elated even to intoxication, though for the moment 
 only, by a salvation so critically wrought, the settlers 
 dropped down the river with the tide, sorely depressed 
 and murmuring that all the toils and sufferings of the 
 past had been for naught. It was night when they 
 glided with heavy and sullen hearts upon the bosom 
 of the tranquil river. It was morning' when they 
 emerged from the Hampton Roads and entered the 
 broad harbor below. " A vision of white sails cheered 
 their hearts! As the sun came up on the 9th of 
 June, the long-boat of Lord Delaware was seen ap- 
 proaching." Fresh immigrants and supplies at their 
 hands, the fugitives returned to the peninsula ; and 
 
196 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 never perhaps was praise chanted more heartily, 
 more tearfully, than before the altar in Jamestown 
 on the morning of the 10th of June. 
 
 " Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh 
 in the morning." 
 
 " How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet 
 of him that bringeth tidings of good, that publisheth 
 salvation, that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth ! " 
 
 Under such circumstances, who could refrain from 
 emotion at the recitation of such words ? 
 
 Thus Lord Delaware was not governor of a deso- 
 lated settlement. 
 
 Unembarrassed by partners in his administration, 
 exercising a mild but decided authority, the influence 
 of his personal rank enhanced by his dignity of man- 
 ner and his well-known virtues, he infused new life 
 into the colony, and established moderate, but syste- 
 matic labor. Good fellowship, cheerfulness, and even 
 a religious sentiment, were discreetly cultivated, and 
 began to pervade the settlement. Prosperity looked 
 in at the gate, dispensed her gifts in moderation, and 
 her inspiring influences in profusion. 
 
 Severe sickness compelled Lord Delaware's return 
 to England on the 28th of March, 1611. Percy acted 
 in his stead, until the arrival of Sir Thomas Dale in 
 May of the same year, who assumed the government, 
 and, in the true spirit of an old soldier, as he was, 
 established martial law, as directed by the Company. 
 
 In August, Sir Thomas Gates arrived, with six 
 ships, three hundred immigrants, and one hundred 
 kine ; the last a wise and invaluable consignment. 
 The government of the colony — now amounting to 
 seven hundred men — devolved upon him. 
 
 
RESCUE. 197 
 
 Hitherto no labor of any colonist had accrued to 
 his exclusive personal advantage. Each man's ca- 
 pacity to labor belonged to the community, and the 
 products of his toil, whatever they might be, had been 
 public property. He had not been rewarded accord- 
 ing to his work and the smiles of Providence upon it, 
 but according to his necessities as a unit among so 
 many hundreds. He had had no personal property in 
 that which his labor- produced. Now, a new order of 
 things was established. Each man had garden and 
 orchard set apart for his own use. An amount of 
 productive industry, and of ready obedience, which 
 nothing but the stimulus of self-dependence and self- 
 reward could have effected, was the result. Know- 
 ing that each moment of toil was a seed for his own 
 harvest, one man now accomplished more than ten 
 had done when laboring for the common store. 
 
 17 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MARRYING A PEACE. 
 
 Seventeen years had tried their skill upon 
 the form and features of Pocahontas. They 
 had now brought her to the verge of womanhood, and 
 each one, as a parting memorial, had given her some 
 fresh grace or new outline, until her dowry of beauty 
 was the wonder and pride of the wilderness. The 
 delicacy of her mind and the gentleness of her heart, 
 though less discerned and less appreciated by her 
 people, had been equally developed. The glimmer- 
 ings of Christian truth which had reached her mind 
 had been faint and few, yet they had imparted sym- 
 metry to her character, spiritual beauty to her fea- 
 tures, and placid dignity to her external life. 
 
 Since the white chief in whose honor and protec- 
 tion alone she had confided had disappeared, she had 
 never ventured from the homes and presence of her 
 kindred. Indeed, only once in all this time had she 
 made herself known to any of the English. When, 
 as has been stated, Powhattan had doomed RadclifFe 
 and his party, she had glided from her wigwam, and 
 led one lad from the house of slaughter to a place of 
 safety. This was all she could do. 
 
 Powhattan, in his savage humor, could not abide 
 an angel of mercy even in her form, and had frowned. 
 The angel could neither abide his frown nor his butch- 
 
MARRYING A PEACE. 199 
 
 eries, and had fled. She now sat, an exile, in the 
 lodge of her kinsman, the king of the Potomacs. He 
 was a kind-hearted old man, and he loved her, partly 
 for her own beauty and goodness, and partly because, 
 like himself, she was a friend to the English. Japa- 
 zaws had made a covenant of peace with Captain 
 Smith, when on his exploring voyage through the 
 Chesapeake, — to his dying day he kept the covenant, 
 — and so he had given welcome and refuge to Poca- 
 hontas. He owed no allegiance to Powhattan, but, 
 like him, was a chief of chiefs. 
 
 ***** 
 
 " Why should my friend be angry ? " said Captain 
 Samuel Argall, as Japazaws eyed him silently, with a 
 look of mingled amazement and indignation. 
 
 " The wood-pigeon flies into my lodge. It trembles 
 like the poplar-leaf. It pants for breath. Then it 
 coos, and coos, and says, < Japazaws ! ' l What do 
 you want, poor thing ? ' I answer. < Japazaws ! I am 
 very weak and timid. I can only fly. Because I 
 pity the bleeding birds and fawns in the nest of the 
 eagle, he is angry. Let me hide here and rest.' Ja- 
 pazaws says : ' Little trembler ! do not fear. Rest in 
 my shadow as long as you will. I will spread my 
 branches and my leaves over you, and you shall be 
 sheltered.' And so it perches on the boughs of the 
 rough old oak. It weaves its little bed, and nestles in 
 it. It plumes its wings, and coos, and is happy. Shall 
 Japazaws entice it into the snare of the hunter ? " 
 
 " The king of the Potomacs does well to be angry, 
 if he thinks I would harm the bird which he has prom- 
 ised to shelter. Japazaws has a good heart, and the 
 wisdom of many years ; but in this he is mistaken." 
 
200 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " Would you not put her in your cage ? Would 
 she not pine there ? Would she not break her heart, 
 and die ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then tell me what you mean. I am old, but not 
 so foolish that I cannot understand the talk which is 
 honest." 
 
 " Are you not a friend of the English ? " 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " Do you like to have them slain by the arrows of 
 the Powhattans ? " 
 
 « No." 
 
 " Are you a friend of Powhattan ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Do you like to have his braves killed by the guns 
 of the English ? w 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Are you a friend of Pocahontas ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Would you not like to have her and her father 
 happy, sitting together once more in the same lodge, 
 and in love ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Now listen, Japazaws ! I ask you only to make 
 all these your friends happy ; to stop the flowing of 
 blood ; to light the pipe of peace for the Powhattans 
 and the English ; and to bring back the loving daugh- 
 ter to the home and the bosom of her father. Bring 
 her to me. Let me take her to the English. We will 
 say to Powhattan : < Here is your dear daughter. We 
 will keep her while you remain our enemy; we will 
 send her to your arms, if you will make peace.' Pow- 
 hattan's heart will long for his child. He will make 
 
MARRYING A PEACE. 201 
 
 peace. Then she shall go back to him, and be happy. 
 The English will be happy. The Powhattans will be 
 happy. There will be no more war. So Japazaws 
 will do much kindness, if he lead Pocahontas to the 
 big canoe of the white man." 
 
 This conversation took place in the cabin of Argall's 
 vessel, then at anchor in the Potomac, whither he had 
 been sent from Jamestown to procure supplies of corn. 
 
 Japazaws, who had not comprehended at first the 
 true object of Argall's startling proposition that he 
 should deliver Pocahontas into his hands, was now 
 evidently impressed with its policy and plausible hu- 
 manity. This Argall perceived ; and, seizing the op- 
 portune moment to deepen and fix the impression, he 
 turned and drew from a locker against the transom of 
 the vessel a bright copper kettle, which he quietly 
 placed on the table. The chief's eyes sparkled with 
 admiration. 
 
 " I do not ask my friend," continued Argall, K to do 
 me a small favor, but a great one ; and it is fit that 
 so kingly a transaction, one which will bring great 
 warriors to be at peace, should be followed by a 
 kingly gift. Let Powhattan's daughter be delivered 
 to me, and let this go to the treasury of Japazaws to 
 remind him that he has done what he could to make 
 peace. It shall be yours when you bring Pocahontas 
 here." 
 
 The chief was mute. No words could express his 
 delight in the brilliant object before him. He took 
 hold of it, and another hand — seen but not felt — 
 took hold of his. He looked in upon its shining bot- 
 tom, and another Japazaws looked out. He laughed, 
 and the chief in the kettle laughed. The gravity of 
 
202 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the Indian gave way entirely before the rnagic mim- 
 icry of polished copper, and he abandoned himself to 
 grimaces, and antics, and exclamations of wonder. 
 
 a Japazaws ! " resumed Argall, after letting the 
 charm work a little while, " that is a present fit for a 
 great king. Only Powhattan has one like it. Japa- 
 zaws should have one too." 
 
 " It is wonderful ! Japazaws will give much corn." 
 
 " Pocahontas : no corn." 
 
 The chief's countenance suddenly fell; but, after a 
 moment's silence, he said gravely, " How shall I know 
 that my bird will be treated kindly ? " 
 
 " I promise," said Argall with solemnity. 
 
 " And how can I know that there will be peace, or 
 that Pocahontas will not be unhappy with the Eng- 
 lish ? " 
 
 " There ivill be peace. Powhattan's love for Poca- 
 hontas makes it sure. She will not be unhappy, for 
 she loves the English, and we love her." 
 
 " But — but " — and Japazaws pushed the tempt- 
 ing object from him — " she will think me cruel and 
 treacherous to make her a captive. Japazaws could 
 not bear it." 
 
 " Pocahontas will thank you for putting her in the 
 way of making peace. Besides, you need not make 
 her a captive : I will. Do you only persuade her 
 hither. I will steal her from you ; and you can be 
 very much amazed, and grieved, and broken-hearted, 
 and angry. Could n't you en/, Japazaws ? and 
 could n't you threaten war?" 
 
 The chief's last and paramount difficulty was re- 
 moved by this suggestion : he could throw dust in 
 the eyes of Pocahontas. 
 
MARRYING A PEACE. 203 
 
 " There shall be peace ! " he exclaimed, " for Pow- 
 hattan's sake ; for Pocahontas' sake ; for the sake of 
 all. And Japazaws shall have the copper kettle too ! " 
 And he bestowed a most idolatrous look upon the 
 magnificent object.* 
 
 The chief was paddled to the shore by his men. 
 With a parting signal thence of assurance to Captain 
 Argall, he turned his face towards his distant lodge, 
 and disappeared in the forest. 
 
 The face of the country on either side of the river 
 was undulating. Many of the hills were planted, and 
 yielded both plenty and variety of fruits. About " six 
 myles vp the woodes " from the river, and on a cleared 
 eminence commanding a pleasant view, was the resi- 
 dence of the chief. Here was a cultivated tract of land, 
 of about a hundred and fifty or two hundred acres, most 
 of the standing trees having been deprived of foliage 
 and life, partly by bruising the bark with hatchets of 
 stone, and partly by " scortching the roots with fire that 
 they grow no more." The turf and diminutive growth 
 had been broken up " with a crooked peece of wood," 
 and thus the ground was prepared for seed. Over this 
 little farm — or, rather, this series of gardens — lay the 
 dwellings of the residents, scattered here and there in 
 clusters, separated by small and shady groves. Upon 
 one side of this clearing, and bordering upon the for- 
 est, lay the village proper, or fortress, an enclosure of 
 perhaps an acre or more, consisting of palisades firmly 
 planted in the ground, and having but one opening 
 
 * " The prospect of a treaty by means of Pocahontas probably turned 
 the balance in his mind. The bright copper kettle was a subordinate 
 consideration, though not a slight one." — Thacher. 
 
204 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 for passage. "Within this, and hard upon the wall, 
 were several buildings consisting of stout upright poles 
 drawn securely together at the top, and covered neatly, 
 and weather-proof, with barks of trees, reeds, or mat- 
 ting. One of these, standing by itself and distin- 
 guished by its style and by its length of a hundred and 
 fifty feet, was the dwelling of Japazaws. 
 
 On the morning after his conference with Argall, 
 he sat, just within the entrance, employing his royal 
 hands and craft in making arrows. A few slender 
 reeds lay near him upon the ground, fragments of 
 crystallized quartz, and the sharp spurs of turkeys. 
 With his knife, made of the splinter of a reed, he had 
 just trimmed the feathers of an arrow, and was now 
 securing a pointed crystal for its head. His wife was 
 seated upon a narrow platform reared against the side 
 of the hut, and elevated a little more than a foot from 
 the ground. Being a royal residence, and somewhat 
 magnificent in its plan, the hut was divided into no 
 less than five compartments. From one of these Poc- 
 ahontas had just made her appearance, clad in a 
 short robe of deer-skin delicately dressed, dyed, fringed, 
 and tastefully ornamented with a sort of beads made 
 from the pearly shell of the oyster. It was held to- 
 gether about the waist by a neatly clasped girdle of 
 English workmanship, a memorial of Captain Smith. 
 Across her shoulders, and hanging in front, floated a 
 loose scarf, a gift from the same hand, as were also a 
 few other ornaments which glittered upon her person. 
 Her hair, which was long, abundant, and of finer tex- 
 ture than was usual with her people, was kept back 
 from her forehead by a fanciful band of native manu- 
 facture, and ornamented with a string of native pearls, 
 
MARRYING A PEACE. 
 
 205 
 
 contrasting finely with the jet-black tresses with which 
 they were interwoven. Her movement was light and 
 animated, and her countenance cheerful, yet a careful 
 eye would have detected there a shade of sadness. 
 Although with kind friends, she felt her homelessness. 
 She longed for those paternal caresses which she once 
 monopolized as " Powhattan's dearest daughter." 
 
 There had been no immediate conversation between 
 the royal couple save casual remarks upon trivial mat- 
 ters, for they had planned their operations the night 
 before. But the moment Pocahontas made her ap- 
 pearance, Japazaws exclaimed, with surly energy, 
 addressing his wife : " Keep in your own lodge : you 
 are not a man." 
 
 "What am I?" 
 
 " A woman." 
 
 "What else?" 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Nothing ! " she retorted in a quick, sharp tone. 
 " I am the wife of Japazaws ! " 
 
 " Well, ' wife,' then. And for what ? To go on 
 the war-path ? To run after strangers ? To sit with 
 great chiefs ? No ! To plant my corn, and cook my 
 food, and bear my children. Be content." 
 
 " Have I not done it all, — all ? and for years, and 
 years, and years ? " she rejoined, rising and striding 
 about with passionate gestures. " Take warning, 
 child ! " turning to Pocahontas. " A young brave will 
 come, with a present in his hand and a smile on his 
 lip, and say : i Pocahontas ! you are lovely as the even- 
 ing star ; you are graceful as the fawn ; you are a 
 beam of light from the Great Spirit. Be the light of 
 my lodge, and the life of my life.' So you become 
 
 18 
 
206 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 his wife. Then he says : ' Plant my corn ; weed my 
 corn ; pound my corn ; cook my corn ; bear my chil- 
 dren ! ' And when you are old, and have planted, 
 and cooked, and borne children, ask of him a gift, or 
 a smile, or a day of pleasure, or some other little de- 
 light, and he will snap, and growl, and say : ' Keep in 
 your lodge, old woman ; work, and plant, and dig.' 
 He '11 natter you to get you ; he '11 get you to use 
 you; and when you are old, he '11 spurn — spurn — 
 spurn you ! " 
 
 The woman seemed wrought almost to frenzy ; but 
 Japazaws whittled away at his arrow-work, and re- 
 plied to her torrent of words only by a contemptuous 
 grunt. 
 
 Now the old couple had seemed to Pocahontas not 
 only to live in peace, but in love, and she was utterly 
 amazed at their sharp and sudden quarrel. With 
 wonder in her eyes, she gently asked the cause of her 
 hostess's grief. 
 
 " O, it is nothing, child ! — only an old wife would 
 like to see the white man's big canoe, and big guns, 
 and other wonderful things, and the old Ghief is cross 
 about it. He says, ' No,' because, you see, an old 
 man can find no greater pleasure than to torment a 
 faithful, worn-out wife. It 's the way of the men, Poc- 
 ahontas ! " 
 
 The maiden smiled incredulously, although she 
 was grieved at the distress of her kind protectress. 
 Hoping to soothe her, she said : l The white man's 
 canoes are only big. It is hardly worth so long a 
 walk to see one. I will tell you all about them, if 
 Japazaws will not let you go. But perhaps he will. 
 Will you not, Japazaws ? " 
 
MARRYING A PEACE. 207 
 
 M Pocahontas ! " replied the chief, " she does not 
 want to see the big canoe. If she was old and ugly 
 as you, she would wish to stay at home ; but as 
 she is so young and so handsome, she wants to be 
 seen. O yes ! she wants to go. But she sha' n't. 
 Do you think I would risk having my beautiful wife 
 run away with some young English lover ? Japazaws 
 is too cunning." 
 
 Satire and irony both appeared to be too much for 
 the woman's nerves to bear, and she began to weep. 
 
 " Ugh ! there come the women's weapons ! " ex- 
 claimed the chief, mimicking a groan. " We men 
 can get along with scolding and the pouts, Poca- 
 hontas ; but when a lovely woman takes to tears, 
 woe to the man she cries at ! " 
 
 Then, turning sharply to his wife : " You had bet- 
 ter stop, my pet ! my sweet ! The salt waters will 
 spoil your beauty ; then you could ytit go to the canoe. 
 Stop, I say ! You won't ? Well, if you ivill spoil a 
 face so charming, don't do it before my eyes. I have 
 a very tender heart, and could n't bear to see it. So 
 get out of my sight ! D' you hear ? " 
 
 The woman persisted in weeping, and advanced 
 even to sobs and moans ; but she did not move. 
 
 " Getting noisy ! " exclaimed her lord, passionately. 
 " Out of my sight, I say ! Ah ! you won't ? " spring- 
 ing to his feet, and grasping a stout cudgel. 
 
 The movement was enough. The woman disap- 
 peared in a twinkling, leaving the field to Japazaws 
 and Pocahontas. 
 
 " Hush, child, hush ! " said the chief, perceiving 
 that his guest was about to intercede. " It is only 
 a silly whim of hers. There is no reason in it. She 
 
208 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 shall not go ; so don't say one word. She '11 forget 
 it herself to-morrow." 
 
 But to-morrow came, and with it a like scene, only- 
 more violent. The third day it was enacted again, 
 with still more grievous embellishments. The cudgel 
 was threatened, but in vain. The tears flowed so 
 largely, and the importunity was so annoying, that 
 the fortitude of the husband gave way. 
 
 « Well," said he, at last, " I should like a little 
 peace at home. I am willing to take the trouble to 
 go with you. It 's only the effect of your charms 
 upon the pale-faces that I fear. Now if our good, 
 discreet Pocahontas, who we all know has no charms 
 of her own to take care of, or to do mischief with, 
 will only go to protect yours, or to help me in pro- 
 tecting them, perhaps I shall get you home safe ; and 
 then we shall have an end of this brawling and blub- 
 bering." 
 
 " O, I will go with all my heart ! " replied Poca- 
 hontas, completely deceived by this well-acted farce, 
 and distressed by such altercations. " I will do any- 
 thing to please you. You are so land, — so kind to 
 a poor girl like me ! and I should be ashamed to be 
 ungrateful." 
 
 " But do you think, child, that it will be safe ? 
 Shall we be able to protect so much loveliness ? " 
 pointing, with a sneer, to the tanned and furrowed 
 face of his weeping wife. 
 
 Pocahontas smiled. " O yes ! I do not fear the 
 whites. They are good to me. They will respect 
 me, and any one who is my friend and companion." 
 
 " Well, well, we shall see," said Japazaws, shuffling 
 his way out of the hut ; " but it would be a sad thing 
 
MARRYING A PEACE. 209 
 
 if an old man like me should lose — should lose such 
 a — such a — " And, with a loud laugh, he prepared 
 " to lead his bird into the snare of the hunter." 
 
 " Thus they betraied the poore innocent Pocahon- 
 tas aboord." 
 
 Bitterly did she weep, when told by Captain Argall 
 that she was his prisoner, and must go with him to 
 Jamestown. " Whereat the old lew and his wife 
 began to howle and crie as fast as Pocahontas " ; 
 though once out of her sight, " with the kettle and 
 other toies, they went merrily on shore." 
 
 Pocahontas was soon composed, and even con- 
 tented, when she found that she was treated with 
 true consideration and kindness, and particularly 
 when she clearly understood that her capture was 
 merely an expedient, and a rational one, for effecting 
 a peace with her father. 
 
 Upon her arrival at Jamestown, a little by-play 
 was commenced, — such as most men and women 
 have shared in sooner or later in life. It seemed an 
 insignificant affair ; but it was not. It began in a 
 religious way, yet it had more substance and more 
 influence than most men's religion. There was a 
 young Englishman there, " an honest gentleman and 
 of good behauior," whose name was John Rolfe. 
 When he saw this fair flower of the wilderness, he 
 was suddenly impressed with the mournful truth that 
 the colonists hitherto had been so engrossed in do- 
 mestic brawls, and in the vulgar business of merely 
 supporting existence, that they had neglected one 
 professed object of their enterprise, — the conversion 
 of the heathen. Poor Master Hunt had had more 
 
 18* 
 
210 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 than he could do to keep men converted ; or, in 
 Smith's words, " to make good Christians and good 
 subjects of those that counterfeited themselves both." 
 To be sure, " Master "Whitaker had chosen and im- 
 paled a faire framed Parsonage and one hundred 
 acres called Rockehall," farther up the river, opposite 
 to the settlement called Henrico, which Dale had 
 commenced the year before ; and here " the Apostle 
 of Virginia had assisted in bearing the name of God 
 to the gentiles." Yet little had been effected ; and, 
 as we have said, Master Rolfe was forcibly reminded 
 of the lack of missionary labor, the moment he set 
 eyes on the beautiful heathen maiden who came a 
 captive to Jamestown. At least, so we argue from 
 his behavior. He instantly assumed the vocation of 
 a Christian teacher ; not in public, to be sure, — for 
 he was no canonical, — but in private, and with only 
 one pupil. Pocahontas was " quick and docile," and 
 had before gathered some crumbs which had fallen 
 to her from the Master's table. It was pleasant to 
 teach so fair a specimen of Nature's handiwork, and 
 one so unsophisticated, so amiable, so impressible, 
 — very pleasant. Doubtless it was pleasant to be 
 taught. 
 
 At any rate, while he was training her innate faith 
 and love upward and heavenward, his own, some- 
 how, became the trellis upon which, like young and 
 tender vines, they clambered. Thus the affections of 
 teacher and pupil became so entangled, the faith and 
 love of each toward Heaven were so woven in with 
 faith and love toward one another, — in other words, 
 these two young hearts became so effectually inter- 
 twined, — that there was no such thing as separating 
 
MARRYING A PEACE. 211 
 
 them. They found it out one day, — whether on 
 some fresh and sparkling morning, or in some placid 
 moonlight evening, is of no importance, — but they 
 found it out. They happened to look into each 
 other's eyes. Rolfe saw a little image of himself in 
 hers, and Pocahontas saw a little image of herself 
 in his, — and just as plain ! Here was a dilemma ! 
 What should they do now ? They could not u?ido. 
 O no ! neither of them thought of that for a moment. 
 The first thing they did was, with some trepidation, 
 " to confess their faults one to another," — a duty 
 which they chanced to discover while reading the 
 fifth chapter of the General Epistle of James. This 
 done, there was a tacit understanding between them 
 for the present, that they would just make the best of 
 their entanglement ; that the one would by no means 
 reproach the other ; in short, that they would peace- 
 fully grow upward and heavenward — tog-ether. A 
 wise conclusion ! And, as they could find no Chris- 
 tian precept for publishing their case just now, they 
 said not a word about it for some time, except when 
 they were alone, — and then, you know, they could n't 
 help it. 
 
 In the mean time, the great folks, — Sir Thomas 
 Gates, the Governor, and Sir Thomas Dale, — who 
 could not descend to such paltry things as young 
 people's hearts, were busying themselves with mat- 
 ters of state. They were going to effect a treaty of 
 peace. They were going to bring Powhattan to 
 terms. They had got the proud chief's pearl of 
 great price in their hands, the darling of his gray 
 age, the delight and pride of his eyes; and they 
 would pull at the old man's heart-strings till they 
 
212 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 cracked, or wrench from him a treaty of peace. It 
 should be done genteelly, though. So they sent an 
 embassy to him, saying " that his daughter Poca- 
 hontas he loved so dearly" was their prisoner, — a 
 word which rasped his heart. But, they added, they 
 had their price for her, namely, all the English pris- 
 oners, and all the English arms and tools, in his 
 possession. If he would restore these, they would 
 restore his daughter ; otherwise, they would keep 
 her. 
 
 But Powhattan was not a man to be bullied. It 
 wrung his soul that his pet child should be held cap- 
 tive by men in whose tender mercies he had no con- 
 fidence ; but he had the dignity of a king in his 
 keeping, as well as the feelings of a father. The 
 sturdy chief could suffer, but he could not bend to 
 dictation. Besides, the English captives which he 
 had were invaluable to him as mechanics. He 
 therefore disdained to reply long enough to show 
 that he was not to be pricked into terms. Three 
 months after the overture, he sent seven English 
 captives to Jamestown, each with an unserviceable 
 musket ; also an axe, a saw, and one canoe laden 
 with corn. With these came a message, that, if his 
 daughter should be restored, he would make satisfac- 
 tion for all injuries done to the colonists, send them 
 five hundred bushels of corn, and be their friend for 
 ever. In reply, he was told that what he had sent 
 would be kept as part payment of the ransom de- 
 manded ; but that other arms and other prisoners 
 which he had must be returned also before Poca- 
 hontas should be liberated. It was added, however, 
 that she should be kindly treated. At this Pow- 
 
MARRYING A PEACE. 213 
 
 h'attan was indignant. It was the end of all nego- 
 tiation and diplomacy on his part. 
 
 The Governor and Council now resolved „__ 
 
 1613 
 upon another step. They would send his 
 
 daughter to his door ; if he would not then deliver 
 what was demanded for her ransom, they would resort 
 to force. Having waited till the spring of 1613, Sir 
 Thomas Dale was sent to Werowocomoco in Argall's 
 ship, with a hundred and fifty men, well armed, and 
 having Pocahontas in charge. Rolfe went with them, 
 of course. They were received with defiance by the 
 Powhattans ; but, after some skirmishing and hut- 
 burning, a truce was agreed upon for one day. This 
 brief time was diligently improved. Master Rolfe 
 and Master Sparkes were sent to Powhattan, and 
 two brothers of Pocahontas visited her on shipboard. 
 
 The result was nothing but a promise from Ope- 
 chancanough, (the messengers were not admitted to 
 the presence of Powhattan,) and another from the 
 two brothers, that they would urge Powhattan to 
 accede to the overtures and terms of the English. 
 With these bald promises Dale was obliged to con- 
 tent himself, — for the time for planting having come, 
 he had no leisure for fighting. He therefore returned 
 to Jamestown, consenting to wait Powhattan's humor 
 until the harvest. 
 
 Thus far, both the diplomacy and the generalship 
 of the dignitaries had been foiled by a heathen savage, 
 who had strength of character enough to curb the 
 impulses of his own heart, and craft enough for a 
 reserved and temporizing policy. To negotiate and 
 to conquer a peace the great folks had failed. The 
 lesser ones now took the matter in hand. Pocahon- 
 
214 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 tas confided her love to her brother Nantaquas, — 
 "the most manliest, comeliest, boldest spirit," said 
 Smith, " I ever saw in a savage." Rolfe eonfided 
 his to Sir Thomas Dale. 
 
 " There is but one remedy," said Dale. 
 
 " There is only one," said Gates. 
 
 " Only one," said Powhattan. 
 
 " Precisely one," said Rolfe. 
 
 Pocahontas said nothing in particular ; at least, 
 nothing aloud. But she never contradicted Rolfe. 
 
 So within ten days, "the remedy" — a very simple 
 though a very serious ceremony — was applied. Pow- 
 hattan sent Opachisco, an old uncle of Pocahontas, as 
 his deputy, and also two of his sons, to see " the man- 
 ner of the marriage, and to doe in that behalfe what 
 they were requested, for the confirmation thereof." It 
 was solemnized before the altar at Jamestown, and 
 according to the rites of the Church of England, early 
 in the month of April.* 
 
 Now " an oath for confirmation is to men an end 
 of all strife." Here was an oath, — a marriage oath 
 to be sure ; but in that consisted its peculiar charm 
 and efficacy ; for it involved a pledge of amity and 
 fidelity between all the parties concerned. It was a 
 bond of union, an alliance of interests, between two 
 families, — the English and the Powhattans. Thus 
 a peace was a matter of course. It was not agreed 
 upon ; it was understood. It involved no compulsion, 
 
 * Some time previous to her marriage, " before the font which was 
 hewn out of the trunk of a tree, hollowed into the shape of a canoe, the 
 Princess Pocahontas had openly renounced her country's idolatry, pro- 
 fessed the faith of Jesus Christ, and been baptized" by the name of 
 Rebecca. — Lippincott's Cabinet History. 
 
MARRYING A PEACE. 215 
 
 no repulsive terms, nothing derogatory to the kingly- 
 honor of Powhattan. Nothing was said, or done, 
 about * treaty, nothing about restoration, nothing 
 about reparation. The parties did not dictate, or 
 stipulate, or buy, or conquer, a peace. They married 
 it. " I do thee wed " was " the end of all strife." 
 " And euer since " — since the marriage — "wee haue 
 had friendly trade and commerce, as well with Pow- 
 hattan himselfe as all his subjects." Such is the 
 record, and nothing more. 
 
 But besides this, and because of this,* the tribe of 
 the Chickahominies — "a lusty and daring people, 
 free of themselves " — voluntarily proposed a treaty 
 of friendship and alliance, which was promptly ef- 
 fected ; they paying a small annual tribute, claiming 
 to be called Englishmen and true subjects of King 
 James and his deputies, and receiving from the Eng- 
 lish a pledge of protection against any enemy what- 
 soever. This also was an effect of Pocahontas's 
 marriage. 
 
 What the governor and his advisers, the captains 
 and their soldiers, tried to do, but could not, was 
 thus taken out of their hands, commenced anew in 
 the school-room of the Gospel of Christ, and finally 
 perfected and ratified at the altar. What the law of 
 coercion could not do, in that it was weak through 
 the inborn wilfulness of Powhattan, Divine Provi- 
 dence did. Sending Love, in the begotten likeness 
 of that wilful man, it condemned and made of none 
 
 * "All this was rather for f'eare Powhattan and we, being so linked 
 together, would bring them againe to his subiection ; the which to pre- 
 vent, they did rather chuse to be protected by vs, than tormented by 
 him, whom they held a tyrant." — Smith, 114. 
 
216 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 effect his wilfulness ; so that the righteous end sought 
 by that law was fulfilled in those who walked not in 
 wilfulness, but in the spirit of Love. " 'She law 
 made nothing perfect ; but the bringing in of a bet- 
 ter hope did." 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ANNALS. — THE ASSEMBLY. — WIVES. — SERVANTS. — 
 PROSELYTING. 
 
 A code of "Lawes Divine, Morall, and 1A1Q -xa 
 Martiall," of which the groundwork had 
 been laid by Lord Delaware, was " settled " under the 
 administration of Gates ;* a code alike remarkable for 
 its details and its penalties. It enjoined frequenting the 
 church, the observance of the Sabbath, reverence for the 
 clergy and all superiors, seemliness of speech and of 
 behavior, and punished with severity the dishonoring of 
 God, sacrilege, felonies, and various sensual crimes. f 
 
 * " The New Life of Virginia," p. 13 ; in Force, Vol. I. 
 
 t In Force, Vol. III. As the laws of the early settlers in New Eng- 
 land have been so often tauntingly referred to as indicative of a savage 
 spirit peculiar to Puritanism, it may not be amiss to notice the laws 
 which at this time existed in Virginia under the regimen of Episcopacy. 
 The reader will find them at large in Force. We give an abstract of a 
 few. 
 
 For speaking impiously or maliciously against the Trinity, or against 
 the known articles of the Christian faith, or deridingly of the Bible, 
 death. 
 
 For blasphemy, death. 
 
 For unlawful oaths, or taking the name of God in vain, first offence, 
 " severe punishment " ; second offence, a bodkin thrust through the 
 tongue ; third offence, death. 
 
 For disrespect to a preacher, " to be openly whipt three times, and to 
 ask publicke forgivenesse three seueral Saboth daies." 
 
 For omitting to attend divine service twice a day in the church, first 
 offence, loss of " dayes allowance " of food ; second offence, whipping ; 
 third offence, the galleys for six months. 
 
 For the neglect of private or family prayer, for neglect of divine ser- 
 19 
 
218 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 In 1613, the five years expired which the king, in 
 his instructions, had prescribed for trade in common 
 stock, and for bringing the whole fruit of their labors 
 into common storehouses. Sir Thomas Dale, under 
 the magistracy of Gates, took advantage of this fact, 
 and introduced changes by which the colonists began 
 to acquire property in the soil, and property in time ; 
 in each more or less, according, probably, to the cir- 
 cumstances of their immigration. Every man — as 
 noticed at the close of our twelfth chapter — had at 
 least three acres of land, to be cultivated at his option, 
 and for his personal benefit. This allotment was 
 accompanied with an allowance to each holder, per 
 year, of one month of his time, and two bushels of 
 corn from the public stock ; for which he must render 
 eleven months of labor for the store. But as early as 
 1617, the number of this class was reduced to fifty- 
 four, men, women, and children. 
 
 vice on the Sabbath, and for neglect of catechising, first offence, loss of 
 provision and allowance for the whole week following ; second offence, 
 loss of said allowance, and whipping; third offence, death. 
 
 For rape and fornication, first offence, whipping ; second offence, 
 whipping ; third offence, three whippings a week for a month, and to 
 "aske publique forgiuenesse in the assembly of the congregation" 
 — only ! 
 
 For evil words against the Council of the Company in England, or 
 any of their officers, or against the endeavors or intentions of the Com- 
 pany, or against any books which they might see fit to publish, first 
 offence, three whippings, and to ask forgiveness en the knees in public 
 on the Sabbath ; second offence, the galleys for three years ; third 
 offence, death. 
 
 For throwing slops or rinsing a kettle within certain prescribed limits, 
 "whipping, and further punishment as shall be thought meete by the 
 censure of a martiall court." 
 
 Such legislation was not characteristic of Puritanism or of Episco- 
 pacy : it was characteristic of the age. 
 
 
ANNALS. 219 
 
 The settlers at New Bermuda, — five miles from 
 Henrico, and on the river Appamattuck, — and some 
 others, rendered but one month's service, but not in 
 seed-time or harvest, and two and a half barrels of 
 corn. 
 
 Sir Thomas Gates returned to England in March, 
 1614, leaving the government of the colony in the 
 hands of Sir Thomas Dale. 
 
 Dale's administration, although rigorously martial, 
 was distinguished also for good judgment. With in- 
 defatigable perseverance, and almost miraculously, he 
 reclaimed the idle and dissolute " to labor and an hon- 
 est fashion of life." He was particularly careful for 
 the planting of corn ; and succeeded to the extent, 
 that he largely supplied the necessities of the Indians. 
 The cultivation of tobacco now commenced ; and such 
 was the eagerness of the colonists in this new experi- 
 ment, that Dale found it necessary to interfere. He 
 forbade the setting of any tobacco, until a certain 
 quantity of ground, to each person in a household, 
 had first been planted with corn. 
 
 No other incidents worthy of particular notice oc- 
 curred during his government, which continued until 
 the spring of 1616 ; when he sailed for England, in 
 company with Rolfe and Pocahontas, and left " Cap- 
 tain George Yeardley to be deputy-governor in his 
 absence." 
 
 Yeardley had neither the controlling efficiency nor 
 the wisdom of his predecessor ; consequently the colo- 
 nists gave the rein to their new conceit for the culture 
 of tobacco. Indeed, the Governor himself partook of 
 the popular enthusiasm. Hitherto a revenue had 
 been sought for by the manufacture of clapboards 
 
220 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 and wainscoting, potash and tar, soap and glass, by 
 the cultivation of the vine, and the exportation of 
 yellow earth. But for all except the first two of 
 these, the cost had been greater than the receipts. 
 Yeardley now directed the colonists to the cultivation 
 of tobacco, " as the most present commoditie they 
 could deuise for a present game." In this there was 
 soon as much eagerness as formerly there had been in 
 hunting gold. The people had no interruption through 
 fear of the Indians. Indeed, such was their sense of 
 security, that they admitted the daily visits, not only 
 of the Powhattans and the Chickahominies, but of 
 " divers other nations," who sometimes guided the 
 English on hunting excursions, and sometimes hunted 
 for them. Yeardley unwisely trained, and allowed 
 others to train, several Indians to the expert use of 
 the musket, that they might provide food for the table. 
 The intercourse between the natives and the colo- 
 nists was thus free and unrestrained during the whole 
 twelvemonth of Yeardley's administration. 
 
 Heretofore every immigrant, and every one who 
 had introduced immigrants at his own expense, had 
 been entitled to a hundred acres of land, personal 
 adventure, for each, — the land to be set off at some 
 future day, — which was the utmost that could be 
 granted in any single share. But such prosperity 
 had accrued through the means and influence of Sir 
 Thomas Dale, that less bounty was thought sufficient 
 inducement for settlers. Now, therefore, but fifty 
 acres' bounty was offered to future immigrants, and to 
 those who, previously to June 24th, 1625, should de- 
 fray the expenses of immigrants, with the privilege of 
 adding thereto, when occupied and cultivated, fifty 
 
ANNALS. 221 
 
 acres more. Lands might also be granted to any 
 person who might have been a special benefactor to 
 the Company or to the colony, but not exceeding two 
 thousand acres. Besides, every person who should 
 pay twelve and a half pounds sterling into the treas- 
 ury of the Company could obtain a title to a hundred 
 acres. 
 
 Captain Samuel Argall arrived in May, 1617, em- 
 powered by the Company to act as Deputy-Governor. 
 With the sole and sinister design of securing to him- 
 self and his abettors sudden and enormous profits, at 
 whatever expense of humanity or honesty, he had 
 been appointed to this post of trust and power through 
 the intrigues and desperate efforts of a faction headed 
 by Lord Rich, soon afterwards created Earl of War- 
 wick. Argall and Rich were pocket-partners in the 
 scheme to wring money from the colonial enterprise. 
 The better to secure their end, Argall was also consti- 
 tuted Admiral of the country and seas adjoining. He 
 was received by " Yeardley and his companie in a 
 martiall order, whose right-hand file was led by an 
 Indian." Yeardley immediately returned to England. 
 
 The colony was now in a singular condition. 
 There were about four hundred settlers in the coun- 
 try, and they had a live stock of a hundred and twen- 
 ty-eight cattle, eighty-eight goats, and innumerable 
 swine ; and " in some places good plenty of corne.' , 
 But the people were scattered everywhere, possessed 
 with a mania for the cultivation of tobacco. Every- 
 thing else was neglected. Indians were as often in 
 the houses as the planters themselves ; they had a 
 great many English arms in their possession, and were 
 skilled in their use. In Jamestown there were remain- 
 
 19* 
 
222 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 ing but four or five houses ; the palisades were not 
 sufficient to keep out the hogs ; the well of fresh water 
 was spoiled ; the church had tumbled down, and the 
 storehouse was used in its stead. The market-place 
 was overgrown with tobacco. The streets were rank 
 with tobacco. Every nook and corner was usurped 
 by tobacco. The whole population, in town and coun- 
 try, on plantations and on bits of choice land in the 
 wilds, planted it, nursed it, cured it, talked about it by 
 day, and dreamed about it by night. 
 
 The dilapidation of the colony Argall set himself 
 to repair ; the people of the colony, to tyrannize over 
 and oppress. Constituted both military and naval 
 commander, and ruling where the only law was mar- 
 tial law, and being himself an avaricious, exacting, 
 arbitrary man, he had all the apparatus and qualities 
 of a despot, and was admirably fitted for the purposes 
 for which his election had been obtained. He proved 
 it. Extortion and oppression were the watchwords of 
 his policy. He monopolized the trade with the In- 
 dians for his own benefit ; he forced the tenants, the 
 servants, the ships, of the Company, and the old plant- 
 ers also, upon his own employments ; he embezzled 
 the public cattle and stores ; he tried by court-martial, 
 and condemned to death, one Captain Brewster, for 
 endeavoring to withdraw from Argall's business the 
 servants on Lord Delaware's plantation, whom Brew- 
 ster had in charge ; * for trifling offences he condemned 
 the colonists to confiscations and to limited servitude ; 
 
 * Some of the court, joining with the clergy, after much entreaty 
 prevailed with Argall to spare the life of Brewster. The latter appealed 
 to the Treasurer and Company in England, by whom he was promptly 
 and honorably acquitted. Stith, 153, 182. 
 
ANNALS. 223 
 
 and even innocent persons he capriciously subjected 
 to punishment. " Complaints were repaide with 
 stripes ; moneys, with scoffs ; and tortures were made 
 delights." 
 
 This intolerable state of things continued until 
 about the 1st of April, 1619, when a little pinnace 
 arrived privately from England for Captain Argall. 
 She was sent by his noble accomplice, now the Earl 
 of Warwick ; and her despatches informed him that 
 his tyranny and malpractices had come to the knowl- 
 edge of the Company, that the pinnace was sent for 
 his escape, and that he had better use her accordingly. 
 He did so ; and " within foure or five daies " was off, 
 leaving Captain Powell as his deputy. But, though 
 he went to England and braved investigation, through 
 the intrigues and influence of Warwick he escaped 
 un whipped. 
 
 On the 18th, ten or twelve days afterwards, Yeard- 
 ley — now Sir George — arrived, having been ap- 
 pointed Captain- General of the colony in place of 
 Lord Delaware, who had died in 1618, on his way to 
 resume the duties of his office in Virginia. The colo- 
 nists were ravished with joy at then: deliverance from 
 tyranny, and by the news that ample supplies, which 
 they much needed, were on the way. " They thought 
 themselves now fully satisfied for their long toil and 
 labors, and as happy men as any in the world." 
 
 Hitherto the colonists had been more or less the 
 serfs of a mercantile corporation, and precluded from 
 all political rights in the community which they con- 
 stituted. Since the establishment of martial law by 
 Dale in 1611, — a measure for which there seem to 
 have been imperative reasons, — they had not had, 
 
224 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 even under accusations for capital offences, the right 
 of trial by jury. " The necessities of the times, the 
 ignorance of the people, and the oppression and tyran- 
 ny of their governors, had thus far deprived them of 
 the liberties and privileges of Englishmen, to which 
 they had a right by the charters of the Company." 
 But now the bondage was at an end. Every vestige 
 of serf-dues was swept away; tribute of corn and 
 tribute of labor, from the planters, were at an end ; 
 each man had the shares of land due to him set off, to 
 hold and to enjoy, to him and his heirs ; they held 
 property of every sort by a tenure as secure and as in- 
 dependent as if residents in England ; the Governor, 
 no longer a despotic official, but under the check of a 
 Council, could do wrong to no man who might not 
 have speedy remedy ; the forms of justice and trial by 
 jury were established ; and the statute law of Eng- 
 land took the place of martial law. These changes 
 were made by Yeardley in virtue of powers vested in 
 him by the Company, and expressly for these pur- 
 poses. 
 
 But this was not all. The colonists* were even 
 called upon to share in the high matter of legislation. 
 This Yeardley did without authority, though he proba- 
 bly knew that he was acting according to the spirit 
 which now pervaded the Company. He convoked 
 an Assembly of Representatives, which met in June, 
 and " debated all matters thought expedient for the 
 good of the colony." " The people were divided into 
 boroughs or townships," eleven in number, each of 
 which sent two Representatives. These, together 
 with the Governor and Council, — which he had or- 
 ganized immediately upon, his arrival, — constituted 
 
THE ASSEMBLY. 225 
 
 the First Colonial Assembly of North America; 
 the grain of seed since become a tree, beneath which 
 all the nations of the earth gather together and rest. 
 
 Although the acts of this Assembly could not be 
 authoritative and binding without being ratified by 
 the London Company, and although it does not ap- 
 pear that the ratification took place, yet their moral 
 influence was incalculable. It was " a shadow of 
 good things to come." The Virginians had plucked 
 of the tree of the knowledge of political good and 
 evil, but had hitherto only tasted of its fruit. Now 
 they had broken its bitter rind, and penetrated to its 
 grateful pulp. It was their first discovery of the good, 
 and they never forgot it. It quickened within them 
 an instinct heretofore repressed and paralyzed. It 
 brought a Hercules from embryo life to infancy, des- 
 tined to throttle the serpent. Though it had placed 
 the people only in the outer porch of the temple of 
 Liberty, it had opened their eyes to the glories within, 
 and they never went back. Like a draught from the 
 cup of the gods, it darted through their veins, a palpi- 
 tating current, which they have transmitted, undegen- 
 erated, unabated, and uncooled, to the present gener- 
 ation. 
 
 May not even an accumulation of metaphor be 
 pardoned, when inscribing and pondering the initia- 
 tory act of American Independence ? 
 
 The inspiration of these several events was imme- 
 diately felt. The colonists began to call what they 
 labored for, their own ; with right good-will they built 
 houses, and displayed satisfaction and honest pride in 
 their construction ; they held the plough with cheer- 
 fulness and zeal, and wielded the hoe with alacrity ; 
 
226 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 in short, they set themselves with manly vigor to 
 every practicable form of productive industry, and 
 "the colony began to have the face and fashion of 
 an orderly state." " Our greatest possible thankes to 
 the Company for the care that hath beene taken for 
 the setting of the Plantation," was passed in their 
 Assembly by acclamation. 
 
 Sir Edwin Sandys, this year the Treasurer of the 
 London Company, and upon whom the burden of 
 their affairs officially devolved, a man of remarkable 
 energy and shrewdness, was ardently and even hero- 
 ically devoted to the interests of the colony. Ear- 
 nestly revolving in his mind the great problem of 
 its prosperity and permanence, instead of consulting 
 ledgers, lottery schemes,* or mercantile speculators, 
 he threw himself upon his own resources as a 
 man of common sense, and surveyed the actual 
 condition of the colonists in the light of humanity 
 and nature. 
 
 To a mind in this attitude, it was obvious at a 
 glance that as yet there was no organization of true 
 society in Virginia ; that its natural and essential 
 element, the inspiring and conservative influence of 
 woman, was wanting. " He wondered not," he 
 said, in a great and general quarter-meeting of the 
 Company in November, " that the people of Virginia 
 
 * The first lottery ever known in the kingdom of Great Britain was 
 granted for the Company, when Sir Thomas Smith was their Treasurer, 
 to aid their Virginia enterprise. Smith, 117. Stith, 138. Hume. Chap. 
 XLIX., Appendix. The grant was contained in Articles XVI. -XIX. 
 of the third charter of James to the Company, dated March 12th, 1611-2, 
 and may he found in Stith, Appendix No. III. 
 
wives. 227 
 
 were not settled in their minds, nor intended to make 
 it the place of their rest and continuance. He won- 
 dered not that they proposed, after having got some 
 wealth, to return again to England, nor that such 
 restlessness tended to the utter overthrow and disso- 
 lution of the plantation. The men had nothing to fix 
 and settle them upon the soil. They had no homes, 
 in the true English sense ; no family ties to the glebe 
 on which they sojourned ; no endearing associations 
 between their hearts and the visible objects around 
 them. But very few Englishwomen had been there, 
 for men would not take wives to a foreign wilder- 
 ness, where they themselves purposed only an uncer- 
 tain residence." Such were the arguments by which 
 he earnestly enforced his " third proposition " to the 
 assembled Company, " that one hundred maids, young 
 and uncorrupt, should be sent over the next spring to 
 make wives for the inhabitants." 
 
 Accordingly, ninety young women of good 1 ^ or4 
 character and aspect were persuaded to go " to 
 make wives," and were sent out early in 1620. So 
 well did this consignment succeed, (of course it 
 would !) that the next year sixty more were sent for 
 the same benign and politic purpose. 
 
 Great must have been the amazement, and great 
 the welcome, with which this novel merchandise was 
 greeted on the shores of Virginia by the wifeless 
 tenants of her soil. The devotees of tobacco even 
 dropped their hoes and deserted their pet plants, so 
 eager were they to inspect and appropriate the new 
 importation. Maidens who came purposely and pro- 
 fessedly " to make wives " need not be approached 
 with bashfulness, or won by the mystic arts of court- 
 
228 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 ship. So they were all quickly bespoken. Yet they 
 were not to be had for the mere bespeaking. They 
 were " merchandise." They were for sale. If any 
 one was married to a tenant, or farmer, of any public 
 land, he could have her freely ; the Company would 
 defray the charges of her transportation. To others 
 who were freemen and tenants, — servants should not 
 have any, — they were for sale. Their expenses must 
 be paid at least ; perhaps, too, something for choice- 
 money, and something for the profit of the shippers* 
 But what were such considerations to men who could 
 be thus diverted from their absorbing pursuit? only 
 " they had no money " ! " What then ? They had 
 tobacco." " Would the shippers receive tobacco ? " 
 " Yes, they would receive tobacco, — a hundred and 
 twenty pounds for a young, comely, uncorrupt maid- 
 en, well recommended by the Company! At such 
 a price, a gift surely, to a homeless, bachelor farmer 
 in a strange land ! Each one with her own recom- 
 mendations and testimonials too ! so that purchasers 
 can judge and choose." 
 
 So the farmers examined the faces and the certifi- 
 cates, and judged, and chose, and paid the price, 
 and took unto themselves wives. Now they were 
 " men," as the Episcopal service " pronounces " those, 
 
 * The price was one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco, at three 
 shillings, — equivalent to eighteen pounds sterling. The cost of trans- 
 portation was about six pounds sterling, leaving a profit to the shippers 
 of twelve pounds sterling to each woman. They were shipped, for the 
 most part, by a society of trade distinct from the Company, but nomi- 
 nally under their control, called " The Magazine," or the subscribers by 
 "Boll." Stith, 171, 186, 197. Does Beverly sneer at wifehood, when 
 he says (p. 248) that " the Planters at the price of a hundred Pound [of 
 tobacco] made themselves believe they had a bargain " ? 
 
SERVANTS. 229 
 
 who conceitedly think themselves men before mar- 
 riage, to have become , in virtue of the marriage rite. 
 Now they had homes. And then, in process of 
 time, came certain native Anglo- Virginians, — little 
 tent-pins, holding the farmers' tabernacles securely to 
 the soil ; the very thing which Sir Edwin Sandys 
 thought they would do. Thanks to his sagacity ! the 
 Virginians became " settled in their minds." But a 
 sense of home, and fixture upon the soil, were not the 
 only salutary results. The rudeness, restiveness, and 
 turbulence of a mere male population subsided ; and 
 more industry, more frugality, more thrift ensued, — 
 all natural consequences. 
 
 Bonded or covenant service had been early intro- 
 duced into the colony. Boys and girls were sent out, 
 under indentures, to be " servants and apprentices " 
 to tenants of the public lands, and to the old planters. 
 Men and women also were sent out, under covenants, 
 as " servants to be disposed of among the old planters " ; 
 and all other persons who went out, not defraying the 
 expenses of their own passages, " must, by a law of 
 the country, serve, if men and women, four years, if 
 younger, according to their years " ; but if under con- 
 tract, before leaving England, for a longer term of 
 service, then they would be bound for the term speci- 
 fied in the contract. In 1619, King James peremp- 
 torily ordered the Company to transport " one hun- 
 dred dissolute persons to be servants." The sending 
 over of rascals and paupers, which is continued to the 
 present day, was an early policy of England. From 
 all such, service of labor was due, for specified terms 
 of time, in the colony. Their purchase-money in 
 20 
 
230 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Virginia — often a large advance upon the cost of 
 transportation* — entitled the purchaser, or master, 
 to the entire time and powers of the immigrant until 
 the debt was cancelled. The profit became a temp- 
 tation to unprincipled men to act as shippers of ap- 
 prentices or covenanted servants. Thus, in process 
 of time, children were sold by poor parents ; many 
 were stolen from their parents for the purpose of sale 
 to shippers ; many were stolen by shippers them- 
 selves ; magistrates thus disposed of young vagrants, 
 and even convicted innocent men, for the good of 
 their own pockets. The business became a regular 
 trade in various parts of Great Britain, — in Aberdeen, 
 in Bristol, in London, in Dublin, and other places. 
 Under the name of " crimping," it had its " regular 
 offices for entrapping young men who, pressed by 
 temporary difficulties, and unacquainted with the 
 world, were easily seduced by the keepers of these 
 establishments to ship themselves for countries where 
 
 * The cost of transportation was from six to ten pounds sterling. 
 " Four years' service was required by laiv for the payment of transporta- 
 tion" (Leah and Rachel, p. 11, in Force) ; and "a man ? s labor," says 
 Stith (p. 163), "was computed at ten pounds sterling a year." Compare 
 these facts with Captain Smith's language, addressed to the royal com- 
 missioners in 1623 : " The general complaint saith that pride, covetous- 
 nesse, extortion, and oppression in a few that ingrosses all, then sell all 
 againe to the comminalty at what rate they please, yea, euen men, women, 
 and children, for who will giue most, occasions no small mischiefe amongst 
 the Planters." 
 
 " As for the Company or those that doe transport them, prouided of 
 necessaries, God forbid but they should receiue their charges againe 
 with aduantage, or that masters there should not haue the same priui- 
 lege ouer their seruants as here, but to sell him or her for forty, fifty, or 
 threescore pounds whom the Company hath sent ouer for eight or ten 
 pounds at most, without regard how they shall be maintained with ap- 
 parell, meat, drinke, and lodging is odious."— Smith, p. 166. 
 
SERVANTS. 231 
 
 they were to revel in numberless delights, but where 
 in reality they were to be plunged into the miseries of 
 compulsory servitude."* The system afforded a con- 
 venient channel for disposing of persons convicted of 
 political disturbances or political heresies, even down 
 to the time of George the Second, if not later. It 
 was also convenient for getting rid of young heirs, to 
 the advantage of the next heirs-at-law.f 
 
 " The condition of apprenticed servants in Virginia 
 differed from that of slaves chiefly in the duration of 
 their bondage," though it was not impracticable on 
 slight pretensions to effect an extension of the bond- 
 age in certain cases. 
 
 But a history of this matter is a digression. It is 
 sufficient to note the fact, that, under color of legal 
 apprenticeship, a real and involuntary enslavement of 
 free-born Britons existed in Virginia in 1620, an* 
 previously. Hence, when, in August of that year, a 
 Dutch ship brought a gang of Africans to the shores 
 of James River for sale, the offer was only of black in 
 lieu of white, with the single addition of wwlimited 
 service. With compulsory servitude the Virginians 
 were already familiar, and it seemed rather an act of 
 good brotherhood than otherwise, to substitute the 
 alien for the countryman, the Negro for the Caucas- 
 
 * Mackintosh's English Revolution, 179. Chambers's Miscellany, 
 Vol. II. No. 24. The whole discourse of the writer in Leah and Eachel 
 shows the existence of this system of imposition, pp. 10- 14. The agents 
 of these establishments are called " Spirits." Bullock's Virginia. 
 
 t Old, authentic records show an atrocious instance of this sort, in 
 which the plunder was an earldom, with its immense estate. It occurred 
 in 1728. For the treatment of servants, and the allowance made them 
 at the expiration of their terms, see Leah and Eachel, pp. 11, 12, 14. 
 Beverly, 236 - 238. 
 
232 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 ian. But whether any questions of casuistry were 
 mooted or not, it was done ; and the twenty Africans 
 were sold and bought. The end is not yet. 
 
 During the administration of Yeardley, a donation 
 was made to the treasury of the Company by an 
 " unknown person in England, for the bringing up of 
 the savage children in Christianity." Another gave 
 " by will three hundred pounds to the College, to be 
 paid when there shall be ten young saluages placed 
 in it ; in the meane time, foure and twenty pound 
 yeerly, to be distribvted vnto three discreete and 
 godly young men in the colony, to bring vp three 
 wilde young infidels in some good course of life."* 
 In regard to this spiritual enterprise, upon which the 
 Company in their appeals enlarged not a little, one 
 " Master Jonas Stockam, a minister in Virginia," 
 seems to have been rather faithless. In a letter to 
 the Council and Company in England, dated May 
 28th, 1621, having first gravely raised the question 
 whether they sought the conversion of the savages 
 for the glory of God, or through a desire of the gain 
 which they hoped might flow to them as a reward 
 for their proselyting, he added as follows : — 
 
 " As for the gifts bestowed upon them [the sav- 
 ages], they deuoure them, and so they would the 
 giuers if they could ; and though many haue en- 
 
 * "Touching the College for the Infidels' children, it hath beene 
 thought more expedient to beginne first with the planting and peo- 
 pling of the lands (which hath beene done this yeere) ; and afterwards 
 to proceede to the erecting of the Fabricke, which is to be performed out 
 of the reuenues of the Lands." — State of Virginia, 1620, in Force. Stith, 
 162, 163, 166, 171, 172, 195. Beverly, 36. Smith, 127. 
 
PROSELYTING. 233 
 
 deuoured by all the meanes they could by kindnesse 
 to conuerte them, they finde nothing from them but 
 derision and ridiculous answers. We haue sent boies 
 amongst them to learne their language, but they re- 
 turne worse than they went ; but I am no states- 
 man, nor love I to meddle with anything but my 
 bookes, but I can finde no probability by this course 
 to draw them [the savages] to goodnesse ; and I am 
 perswaded, if Mars and Minerua goe hand in hand, 
 they will effect more good in an houre, than those 
 verball Mercurians in their liues ; and till their priests 
 and ancients haue their throats cut, there is no hope 
 to bring them to conuersion." 
 
 On this singularly Christian letter Captain Smith 
 commented thus : " For the saluages vncertaine con- 
 formitie [to the church] I do not wonder, but for 
 their constancy and conuersion I am and euer haue 
 beene of the opinion of Master Ionas Stockam." 
 
 Whitaker, " the apostle," was of the same opinion 
 with Stockam and Smith. 
 
 A second General Assembly was convened in May 
 of this year ; of whose doings, however, we have no 
 record. 
 
 For certain malicious by-ends of their own, the 
 Earl of Warwick and Captain Argall — now the 
 head of a troublesome faction in the London Com- 
 pany — had caused it to be reported in Virginia, 
 and even to be told to Opechancanough, that the 
 government of the colony was about to devolve upon 
 Warwick, who would call Yeardley to severe ac- 
 count, and to signal punishment, for maladministra- 
 tion. Yeardley was a man too sensitive and amiable 
 to bear the brunts and emergencies of his very pecu- 
 20* 
 
234 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 liar post ; and this rumor, which was variously con- 
 firmed, wrought in him such extreme dejection, as to 
 induce a long and severe sickness, and of course to 
 retard and embarrass the machinery of his govern- 
 ment. For this reason, probably, though perhaps in 
 connection with others, he desired the Company to 
 release him from his duties when the term for which 
 he was appointed should have expired, which would 
 be in November of 1621. Sir Francis Wyatt was 
 therefore elected Governor, — "a young gentleman 
 thought every way sufficient and equal to the place, 
 and highly esteemed on account of his birth, educa- 
 tion, integrity of life, and fair fortune." He left Eng- 
 land with his commission about the 1st of August, 
 1621. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 OVER THE WATER. 
 
 We now go back a little in the order of 
 time, and pass over to the old and bustling 
 metropolis of England. 
 
 Late in June, or perhaps in the early part of July, 
 1616, there was a lady sitting in a richly furnished 
 apartment in London, who had some connection with 
 the events of our narrative. She appeared to be about 
 forty years of age, which was less than two years 
 short of the truth. Her face was but indifferently 
 handsome, — an aquiline nose a little drooping to- 
 wards the mouth, a clear complexion, and rich brown 
 eyes, just then rather heavy in their expression, though 
 usually lively. Her hair was elaborately curled and 
 frizzled, dressed high, and decked sparingly with jew- 
 els. Her dress was a rich, heavy silk brocade, the 
 bodice tight, and forming a waist five inches longer 
 than natural. The corsage of her gown was cut very 
 low, but the bosom was covered with a transparent 
 chemisette and a Brussels lace collar, and cuffs of the 
 same material in three tiers ornamented her wrists. 
 She wore the preposterous appendage of the day, — 
 a farthingale, — so enormous that her very beautiful 
 hands rested upon its verge, when her arms were 
 extended. She had no companion but a pet grey- 
 hound, of a diminutive breed, which lay at her feet, 
 
236 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 having around its neck an ornamented collar, on 
 which were embossed in gold the letters A. R. 
 
 The lady had the appearance of one worn by cares. 
 Indeed, she had a troubled look, as though some 
 jagged thoughts were even then working their way 
 through her mind. She seemed abstracted, and gave 
 no sign of life other than a sigh, or a flitting contrac- 
 tion of her brow and lip, as if she were in pain. At 
 last she rose, — with what awkwardness and diffi- 
 culty may be imagined, — and walked nervously to 
 one of the large windows. She looked upon the 
 bright green lawn, glanced at some sombre build- 
 ings and turrets beyond, and instantly turned back 
 again. There was nothing cheering out of doors, 
 for there was no sunshine. It was shut out by 
 smoke and clouds. Observing by a timepiece in the 
 apartment that it was almost noon, she sadly reseated 
 herself, and took up a letter which had lain open by 
 her side. She had read it before, but she commenced 
 reading it again with evident interest. 
 
 While she was thus engaged, a folding door of the 
 apartment was thrown open from without by two 
 men in rich apparel. A man entered without word 
 or ceremony, the two attendants disappeared, and the 
 door was closed. He was fifty years of age, of mid- 
 dling stature, misshapen by the rickets just enough to 
 give him an uncouth form, and had a countenance, 
 even in its best state, disagreeably homely. Just 
 now it was not in its best state ; for, besides first a 
 rolling, and then an idiotic stare, of his large eyes, — 
 actions which were habitual with him, — he had a 
 decidedly drunken look. Not that he was tipsy then ; 
 but he looked as though he had been, thoroughly, 
 
OVER THE WATER. 237 
 
 when he went to bed, and had just risen to shame, re- 
 pentance, and the headache. His dress was green from 
 head to foot, of the same shade as the vigorous grass 
 out of the window. He looked as though he was a 
 fat man, but he was not. His face, — it was bloated ; 
 and his clothes, — they were stuffed with quilted pad- 
 ding, I don't know how thick ; but so thick that the 
 ordinary daggers of the time, if they should prick 
 through to the skin, could not penetrate much farther. 
 He was very much afraid of being stabbed ; no one 
 knew why, although some wiseacres said it was be- 
 cause, just before he was born, a man was stabbed to 
 death in his mother's presence, and he had never got 
 over the fright. In those days every man wore a 
 sword who pretended to be a gentleman, which he, 
 through a very great error of judgment, thought him- 
 self to be. But he had as natural a dislike to swords 
 as he had to shorter weapons for stabbing, and wore 
 instead, and in the place of one, a richly ornamented 
 hunting-horn. He loved dogs and hunting dearly ; it 
 was said, better than he loved anybody in the world, 
 or anything but eating and drinking and lying in 
 bed.* 
 
 He made a peevish sign to the lady, who was 
 beginning the operation of rising, that she should 
 remain seated, and advanced with an awkward and 
 uncertain step, as though his legs were too weak for 
 his body, — and they were. The slightest possible 
 look of sorrow passed upon the lady's face, but it im- 
 mediately gave way to a good-natured expression, her 
 
 =* Hume's History of England ; Neal's History of the Puritans ; Strick- 
 land's Queens of England, Vol. VII. pp. 344. 345, 349 - 351 ; Dickens's 
 Child's History of England ; Aikman's Buchanan's Scotland, III. 384. 
 
238 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 eyes beaming with their natural vivacity, and betray- 
 ing a spirit anything but tame or diffident. Her hus- 
 band adjusted himself upon a seat, after an ungainly 
 process, sheepishly looked down upon the floor, and 
 fumbled uneasily at his dress. 
 
 " I am sorry for you, Jemmy," said the lady, refold- 
 ing her letter; "but you should be more on your 
 guard, man. You had such bitter shame and sorrow 
 after that terrible debauch with brother Christiern at 
 Theobalds, that I thought you would have profited by 
 the lesson. Ten years to be sure ; but not long 
 enough for such a thing to be forgotten. And yet 
 how many times since have you done just so ? " 
 
 Jemmy was in the habit of swearing like a trooper, 
 and of largely spicing his conversation with Latin. 
 We omit the Latin and the oaths. 
 
 " I dinna ken, I dinna ken," he replied, with a 
 clumsy articulation. His tongue was too big for his 
 mouth. He always spake so. " I canna hald frae 
 swearing ! An uncannie chiel ! an uncannie chiel ! " 
 And he began to cry. 
 
 M You are not uncannie, Jemmy ; you are not un- 
 cannie," said the lady in a soothing tone. " There is 
 not your equal in all England or Scotland." 
 
 " Ay, ay ! I could gie the teachings o' wisdom to 
 a' in the twa kingdoms. But Solomon himsel had 
 his weakness. Ye cannie know, Nannie ! the muckle 
 power o' temptation whin Auld Cluity himsel fills 
 the tassie, and putteth on the bonnie smile o' an angel 
 o' light. Wae 's me ! wae 's me ! Gude forgie me ! 
 Gude forgie me ! " And he wept and blubbered like 
 a child. 
 
 And thus, while the fit was on him, he snivelled 
 
 
OVER THE WATER. 239 
 
 forth his morning penitence, wringing his hands, and 
 ejaculating sneaking prayers "that God would not 
 impute his infirmities to him." His wife, who really- 
 loved him, had hardly succeeded in bringing him to 
 tolerable composure, when two more persons were 
 ushered into their presence. 
 
 One of them was a very handsome young man, 
 twenty-two years of age, with a genteel air and fash- 
 ionable apparel, and radiant with diamonds, — dia- 
 monds in his cap, diamonds in his ear-rings, and dia- 
 monds on his shoes. The other was a youth of six- 
 teen years, of a very modest and winning appearance ; 
 his countenance wearing an almost imperceptible 
 shade of melancholy when in repose,* but lively, fresh, 
 and ingenuous when animated by conversation. Was 
 a hazy presentiment of a stormy life and a tragic 
 death already creeping over his young spirit, and 
 spreading its pall over his features ? 
 
 " Steenie ! Charlie ! " exclaimed Jemmy, as the two 
 entered, " ye 're the light o' my een ; bonnie and braw 
 as twa fresh-blawn roses ! " 
 
 " Welcome, my little servant ! " said the lady to the 
 younger, using a term which she whimsically chose to 
 express her affection to her son.f 
 
 " My dear mother," replied the lad impetuously, " I 
 have come to ask whether you will receive the prin- 
 cess. Have you read the letter ? " 
 
 " Yes, child, I have read the letter. But you must 
 ask his Sowship about the reception." 
 
 * This expression was so distinct in the portraits of Charles I. by 
 Vandyke, that a Roman sculptor, once studying one of them, turned 
 sadly away, exclaiming, " That man will not die a natural death ! " 
 
 t Strickland, VII. 360. 
 
240 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 u Reception ! letter ! princess ! " exclaimed Jemmy. 
 " What 's blawing i' the wind noo, Baby Charles ? 
 Are ye ganging to fash me wi' mair o' your lassie 
 frolics ? Ye maun ha' the Infanta, or the lass o' 
 France. Sae nae mair o' your skeely pratticks." 
 
 " No, no," replied Charles affectionately. " Your 
 Majesty shall be obeyed in my marriage when the 
 time for marriage comes. But this princess is already 
 married to one of your Majesty's subjects." 
 
 " Ah, I ken, I ken ! We '11 bring him to a sair 
 repentance, — the scurley limmer ! To buckle wi' the 
 bairn o' a king ! Sic a deed is onkent ! By my saul ! 
 he ha' miskent himsel ! He shall skirl for it ; he shall 
 greet and gowl for his honeymoon, gif the king o' 
 England an' Scotland can mak him ! " 
 
 " But, Jemmy ! the young man acted with advice. 
 The Governor himself approved of the marriage." 
 
 " An' dinna ye ken, Nannie, that I maun see to the 
 keepin' o' royal bluid frae the profane touch o' the 
 plebeian-born ? Steenie ! what say you ? " 
 
 " I think there is much difference between the royal 
 blood of an Indian, and the royal blood of your Sow- 
 ship," said Buckingham. 
 
 " Weel, weel ! but royal bluid is royal bluid af- 
 ter a'." 
 
 " But you would not punish the innocent with the 
 guilty, surely! Your most serene Sowship cannot 
 hurt the princess's husband without hurting the prin- 
 cess." 
 
 M Hoot-toot, man ! Ye tak no tent o' the fact that 
 the princess ha' nae mair right to fa' frae the place o' 
 Gude's anointed, than the man ha' to foist himsel 
 up! But we hae nothing to do wi' her; wi' him, 
 
OVER THE WATER. 241 
 
 muckle. Dinna ye perceive, Steenie, that wha is gude- 
 man to the princess o' Virginia maun be takin' tent 
 o' the crown o' Virginia to be his ain by and by ? 
 My saul ! he maun thole the dool. Gin he will tak 
 the bit, he maun tak the buffet wi' it." 
 
 « But, dear father — " 
 
 " Noo, noo, Baby Charles ! I canna be fashed mair ! 
 I canna be fashed ! Let us drap this clishmaclaver." 
 
 " But the letter, sire." 
 
 "The letter? aweel ! " 
 
 " It is about this beautiful princess, and is a petition 
 that she may be presented to her Majesty. Surely a 
 queen should welcome a royal princess to the realm ! " 
 
 " Hie-how, Baby Charlie ! Ye 're a braw callant 
 for princesses! Weel, what o' the letter, Nannie! 
 Frae wha is it ? " 
 
 " It is from your Sowship's most brave and loyal 
 subject, Captain Smith. Shall I not read it to you ? " 
 
 " Is it to Baby Charles ? " 
 
 "No: it is to myself." And, unfolding it, she 
 began to read : "'To the Most High and Virtuous 
 Princess, Queen Anne of Great Britain — ' " 
 
 " That 's ower true, ower true ! " interrupted Jemmy. 
 
 " ' Most admired Queen : The love I bear my God, 
 my king, and countrie — ' " * 
 
 " "Weel, Nannie ! gin he is your admirer, ye maun 
 humor the man. An' I sud like to see the princess 
 mysel. Sae do as ye w T ill ; an' nae mair on 't noo, 
 — wad ye, Steenie ? " and Jemmy slung his arm 
 over the shoulder of the handsome youth, lolled upon 
 
 * This letter of Captain Smith to Queen Anne may be found entire 
 in Smith ; in Beverly ; in the Life of Smith in Sparks's American 
 Biography ; and in " Indian Biography," by B. B. Thacher. 
 21 
 
242 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 his neck, rubbed his gross lips over and over his fair 
 face, and kissed, and kissed, and kissed.* 
 
 The favorite bore the treatment meekly, and rather 
 sportively, disgusting as it was, until the most high 
 and virtuous Anne interrupted the royal pastime by 
 saying : " Steenie, my dog ! " 
 
 " At your service, my gracious Queen," — disen- 
 gaging himself from the royal embrace. 
 
 " You have not done your duty." 
 
 " Wherein have I failed of my duty to your Ma- 
 jesty?" 
 
 " In failing to watch over his Sowship." 
 
 " Steenie fail to watch ower me ! " exclaimed Jem- 
 my. " By my saul, he 's ever a watchin' : he does 
 naethin' else. Gin ye can fin' nae mair fault, he may 
 e'en gae scot-free." 
 
 il I did command my dog Steenie that he should 
 make your ear hang like a sow's lug," f rejoined Anne 
 of Denmark. " Did he do his duty last night, when 
 he let you get drunk ? " 
 
 " Poor Steenie ! dinna blame him. How could he 
 get at my lug, when the Deil stood a whispering in it 
 hissel ? Steenie canna wark miracles ! " 
 
 " His Sowship is right, my gracious Queen : I can- 
 not outwit Satan. It was not my fault, nor his Sow- 
 ship's, that he got drunk : the Devil did it, by his wiles 
 and enchantments. Your Majesty must settle the 
 score with him." 
 
 " Well, my kind dog, keep to your vocation, and 
 get beforehand with the Devil. You have done very 
 well in lugging the sow's ear. I shall thank you for 
 
 * Dickens. t Strickland, VII. 350. 
 
OVER THE WATER. 243 
 
 it, and would have you do so still. Upon condition 
 that you continue a watchful dog unto him, and be 
 always true to him, so I shall wish you all happi- 
 
 We gladly drop the curtain. Even so brief an 
 approach to the domestic life and character of James 
 the First of England, makes one feel denied and 
 heart-sick. Such royalty looks better out of ear-shot. 
 
 It is sufficient to remark, that the wrath of James 
 against young Mr. Rolfe, for his presumption in yok- 
 ing himself with royalty, " passed off without any 
 further bad consequence than a little displeasure and 
 murmuring " ; as did also his apprehensions that the 
 husband of Pocahontas might lay claim to the crown 
 of Virginia. 
 
 Pocahontas, or, as she was called in England, the 
 Lady Rebecca, had arrived at Plymouth on the 12th 
 of June, having in her train several young Indians of 
 both sexes, and devoted with all the fresh and tremu- 
 lous love of a new mother to the comfort and the 
 marvellous developments of an infant Thomas. She 
 had acquired a fair command of the English language, 
 had easily adopted the habits and manners of civilized 
 life, and was well instructed in Christianity. Her 
 journey of two hundred and sixteen miles to London 
 was necessarily slow, partly because of the ill-con- 
 structed roads and the lumbering vehicles of the day, 
 and partly because of the hospitalities which she en- 
 
 * Strickland, VII. 349. The disgusting appellative applied through- 
 out this dialogue to King James is that with which he was addressed 
 by his queen and by the Duke of Buckingham, in their familiar conver- 
 sations, and in their letters. 
 
244 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 countered. Great was the curiosity of all classes to 
 behold the natives of the New World, and particularly 
 the beautiful scion of barbaric royalty, the first Chris- 
 tian of her nation, the first who had wedded an Eng- 
 lishman and borne him a child. In the eyes of the 
 crowd, all were national trophies ; a kind of first-fruit 
 offering at the shrine of English greatness, types and 
 pledges of a growing empire, which not only grati- 
 fied English curiosity, but tickled English pride. Yet 
 there were others who, while they shared in these pop- 
 ular sentiments, greeted the stranger princess with 
 English heartiness for her own sake, as the heroic 
 savior of their countrymen, as the beautiful child of 
 Nature, and a rare embodiment of female virtues. 
 All strove to do her honor. The London Company 
 made appropriations for the generous maintenance of 
 herself and her child ; and her society was eagerly 
 sought by families of the highest rank and of un- 
 bending pride. 
 
 The noise and the smoky atmosphere of London 
 so illy agreed with one always accustomed to the 
 stillness and the pure air of the forest, that Pocahon- 
 tas was immediately removed to Brantford, a short 
 distance from the city. As soon as Captain Smith 
 heard of her being established, he hastened to wel- 
 come her, taking with him a party of his friends. It 
 is undoubtedly true, though not stated in Smith's 
 account of the interview, that he met her with the 
 ceremonious deference and reserve appropriate to the 
 character in which she appeared, and to the sphere in 
 which she was then moving, but in strong contrast to 
 the frank and easy cordiality which had marked their 
 interviews in the wilderness. This she instantly per- 
 
OVER THE WATER. 245 
 
 ceived. It keenly wounded her sensitive nature. 
 Her heart had bounded toward the man whom she 
 had known in her father's lodge, whom she had re- 
 peatedly saved from death, from whom she had al- 
 ways received the most cordial and parental saluta- 
 tions, and whom she had ever regarded with childlike 
 reverence and trust. But formality in him! she had 
 not dreamed of it. It was chilling, cutting, stunning ; 
 for she had lost none of the simplicity, none of the 
 aftectionateness, none of the sensitiveness, which had 
 marked her elastic childhood. The open warmth of 
 the rough soldier had always gladdened her ; the 
 English iciness of the precise visitor smote upon 
 her heart. She could not comprehend it. She re- 
 turned it by a passionless and silent salutation, 
 turned directly about, and covered her face with 
 her hands. From this grieved and wordless humor 
 she would not be dissuaded, so that Kolfe and the 
 visitors left her, much to the mortification of Smith. 
 After two or three hours they returned, when she 
 began to talk. 
 
 " I see you are other than you used to be. I was 
 but a little girl, yet I did save your life and the lives 
 of your people whenever I could. Though I did not 
 know God then, he moved my heart to love you and 
 your people, and to take care of you.* Then you 
 used to smile, and put your hand on my head, and 
 look in my eyes, and say, l God bless you, my child I ' 
 But noiv, where there are no Powhattans to hurt you, 
 you look no smile, you say no word to God, you 
 
 * " She remembered me well what courtesies she had done." — 
 Smith. 
 
 21* 
 
246 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 make one stiff stoop over, and say, l La-dy Re-bec- 
 ca ! ' " and a sneer of contempt could be seen upon her 
 quivering lip as she protracted her new name. " I 
 see you have forgotten Pocahontas.* You came to 
 see the Lady Rebecca. She was here then," — al- 
 luding to her own coolness and silence, — " but she is 
 gone now. This is Pocahontas, Captain Smith, — 
 your child" 
 
 " I did come to see Pocahontas," Smith replied, 
 kindly. " I have not forgotten her. I have not for- 
 gotten what she did when my head lay upon the 
 stone in her father's lodge. I have not forgotten 
 what she did for my people when they had no 
 food. I have not forgotten what she did in the 
 lonesome woods and in the dark night. She was 
 as an angel of mercy whom God sent. But here 
 it is not proper that a poor soldier should conduct 
 himself towards a king's daughter as though he 
 were her equal." 
 
 " King's daughter here ; king's daughter there. 
 Poor soldier here ; poor soldier there. It is the same, 
 and you should be the same. Captain Smith did look 
 kind, and say, ' God bless,' and l my child.' You did 
 promise Powhattan what was yours should be his ; 
 and he, the like to you. You called him 4 Father,' 
 being in his land a stranger ; and by the same reason, 
 so must I do you." 
 
 " We are both the same, and we regard each 
 other the same as we used to. But England and 
 Powhattan's country are not the same. My king 
 
 * " She addressed a feeling and pathetic remonstrance on the distant 
 coldness of his manner." — Burk, I. 187. 
 
OVER THE WATER. 247 
 
 would be angry if I should behave as if I was a 
 father to the daughter of a king. Therefore I am 
 afraid that you should call me ' Father,' or to call you 
 < Child.' " 
 
 The idea was so absurdly ludicrous, that the seri- 
 ousness and grief of Pocahontas gave way, and she 
 broke into a ringing laugh. 
 
 " Afraid ! " said she. " Who ever dared to say that 
 Captain Smith was afraid ! It is silly. Were you 
 afraid in my country, among many strangers and 
 terrible warriors ? No. You made all afraid but 
 me. How, then, can you be afraid among your own 
 countrymen, and afraid of such a harmless thing as 
 that I should call you ' Father ' ? Should any one but 
 you say it, I should think him a fool.* I tell you, 
 then, I will call you * Father ' ; and you shall call me 
 ' Child ' ; and so I will be for ever and ever of your 
 country and of your people. They did tell us al- 
 ways you were dead, and I knew no other till I came 
 to Plymouth. Yet Powhattan did command Tomo- 
 comof to seek you and know the truth ; because your 
 countrymen will lie much." 
 
 Captain Smith then made known to her, that he 
 had already, under favor and countenance of Prince 
 
 * This is the true meaning of Pocahontas's words, as recorded by 
 Smith ; but he expresses it in a very obscure way. 
 
 t Tomocomo was one of the train of Pocahontas. He had married 
 her sister Matachanna; was one of the chief of Powhattan's council, and 
 of their priests ; and was esteemed highly by the Indians for his wisdom. 
 He was sent to England to number its inhabitants, or — it is not certain 
 which — to take account of their trees and corn, for which they seemed 
 so eager. He therefore provided himself, upon landing, with a long 
 stick, —his account-book, — which he began to notch, but soon threw 
 it away in despair. Stith, 143, 144. 
 
248 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Charles, related to Queen Anne by letter the history 
 of her relations and services to the colonists. After 
 other conversation, he took his leave for the present ; 
 the sensitive princess relieved of the grief which the 
 formality of their meeting had induced. They had 
 frequent interviews afterwards, for Smith was daily 
 importuned for an introduction to her, by persons 
 connected with the royal court, and by others. 
 
 It was a gay, frivolous, heartless world to which 
 Pocahontas was now introduced ; but its shifting 
 scenes, its glitter, its novelty, served effectually to 
 blind her to its hollowness and misery, so that " she 
 was wonderfully pleased and delighted." For the 
 brief term of her visit, her native and now matured 
 purity was a sufficient shield against its contamina- 
 tion, and of course its sting. So transparent was her 
 goodness, and so natural and simple her dignity of 
 manner, that the proudest and wickedest approached 
 her with profound respect, and the boldest felt that 
 there ivas a line beyond which they might not ad- 
 vance. At masks, at balls, at theatres, she was a 
 chief object of attraction ; but neither viscount, earl, 
 or duke presumed upon her simplicity. Though a 
 wife and a mother, she had yet the loveliness and the 
 sanctity of a child. In artificial society, she seemed 
 like a modest and graceful lily, a pure and peerless 
 product of Nature, fresh and fragrant, to whom the 
 rank and gorgeous nurslings of the hot-house paid 
 instinctive homage. Through means of Smith's let- 
 ter to Queen Anne, she was introduced to their 
 Majesties by Lord and Lady Delaware. The whole 
 court were surprised and charmed by the propriety 
 and grace of her deportment ; and even the sottish 
 
OVER THE WATER. 249 
 
 James was roused to sentiments of esteem, and con- 
 ceded to her the position of a royal princess. She 
 was frequently admitted to private interviews with 
 the queen, and was publicly treated as the daughter 
 of a sovereign prince. 
 
 Thus she passed away the winter of 1616 - 17, the 
 pride of a husband who loved her with passionate 
 devotion, and admired by all for the beauty of her 
 person and the loveliness of her character. 
 
 Early in the spring, — it appears to have been about 
 the 1st of March, — Captain Argall sailed from Graves- 
 end, near the mouth of the Thames, for Virginia. 
 While waiting in that port to go in his ship to her 
 native land, Pocahontas was suddenly arrested by a 
 power from which there was no deliverance. She 
 fell sick, and soon perceived that Death stood at the 
 door. As husband and friends moved about in con- 
 sternation and in tears, her childlike spirit was trans- 
 figured before them, and was clad in raiment of light. 
 Behold, it was " the spirit of adoption " ! 
 
 When she yearned to see once more the rivers and 
 forests where she used to play, and the aged chief 
 who used to delight in her infant glee, and to lay her 
 body by the graves of her woodland fathers, it whis- 
 pered, " Thy will, O God ! not mine," and the long- 
 ing was stilled. 
 
 When she took leave of husband and child, it mur- 
 mured, " Even so, Father ! " and she was peaceful. 
 
 And then she looked trustfully, steadfastly, upon 
 the Offering for sin, — a " Thanks ! thanks ! for the 
 unspeakable Gift ! " in her heart, — until, unsullied 
 by a fashionable and wicked world, she sweetly fell 
 asleep. 
 
250 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Her name, like a drop of dew, or a perpetual 
 flower, on a hoary ruin, is yet fresh and refreshing 
 on the page of history ; and the memory of her un- 
 pretending life is like the memory of a heavenly 
 vision* 
 
 * Pocahontas died at twenty-two years of age. Her son, Thomas 
 Rolfe, " afterwards came to America, where he became a gentleman 
 of great distinction, and possessed an ample fortune. He left an only 
 daughter, who married Colonel Robert Boiling, and died leaving an 
 only son, Major John Boiling, who was the father of Colonel John 
 Boiling and several daughters; one of whom married Colonel Richard 
 Randolph, from whom was descended the late John Randolph of Vir- 
 ginia," so distinguished both for his character and his talents. Drake's 
 Book of the Indians. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE CONSTITUTION. — OPECHANCANOUGH. — JACK-OF- 
 THE-FEATHER. 
 
 The new Governor arrived in Viriginia in 
 October. The policy which he was instructed 
 to pursue denotes much vigor and political sagacity 
 on the part of the Company ; yet betrays the same 
 peculiarities for which the New England colonies have 
 been stigmatized. Religious worship and rites ac- 
 cording to the canons of Episcopacy ; the honor and 
 rights and respect of the clergy ; " the avoiding " — a 
 soft but ambiguous word — " of all factious and need- 
 less novelties " ; * loyalty ; the prompt and equal ad- 
 ministration of justice according to the forms and 
 constitution of England ; peace and friendship with 
 the natives, and their protection from wrong ; popu- 
 lar industry ; the suppression of gaming, drunken- 
 ness, and "excess of apparel" ;f — all these, among 
 other matters, were expressly enjoined. 
 
 This last item excited some sensation in the col- 
 
 * Meaning Puritanism particularly. 
 
 t It may be a question whether the language of the Company on this 
 point savors most of Puritanical preciseness and overmuch righteous- 
 ness, or of Episcopalian jealousy for the privileges of rank. " No per- 
 son, except the Council, or the Heads of Hundreds and Plantations, 
 with their Wives and Children, shall wear Gold on their Cloaths, or 
 any Apparel of Silk, except such as has been raised by their own In- 
 dustry." — Stith, 194. 
 
252 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 ony ; not as an improper, but as a ludicrously inap- 
 propriate, injunction. " "We know," said the Gov- 
 ernor and Council, li of no excess in apparel, except in 
 the price of it ; and had not the direction come from 
 the Company, we should have thought it a flout for 
 our poverty and nakedness." 
 
 In one thing, at least, the Company discovered their 
 Christian common sense, in a little homily borrowed 
 from a sermon which was preached sixteen hundred 
 and twenty years before, but is to this day disre- 
 garded. In urging upon the colonists the conversion 
 of the natives to Christianity, they observed that " the 
 example given by the English in their own persons 
 and families would be of singular and chief moment." 
 
 Elementary, and even classical education, were also 
 recommended; and — quite as urgently — the culture 
 of corn, the making of walnut-oil, wine, and silk, for 
 the two latter of which the Company had made spe- 
 cial and generous provision. Tobacco they discour- 
 aged ; commanding to restrict its cultivation to one 
 hundred pounds per head, and declaring that, for dues 
 to them, they would receive " not one Whit in Smoke 
 and Tobacco, but only in useful Commodities." 
 
 But the most important document brought by Sir 
 Francis Wyatt was A Charter of Government. Un- 
 der this instrument, the powers of legislation were 
 committed to the colonists through their represent- 
 atives, in connection with the Governor and Council ; 
 hereby establishing, on a legal basis, the same form 
 of free government of which Sir George Yeardley, 
 without legal sanction, had given a pattern the 
 year before. The Governor, Council, and Represent- 
 atives constituted The General Assembly. The 
 
THE CONSTITUTION. 253 
 
 Governor had a negative vote. No law passed by 
 them was valid, however, until ratified by the Com- 
 pany in England ; and no commandment of the 
 Company in England could have the force of law, 
 until approved and adopted by the General Assembly 
 in Virginia.* The Assembly were simply required 
 " to follow the Laws, Customs, and Manner of Trial, 
 and other Administration of Justice used in the Realm 
 of England, as near as may be," 
 
 Virginia had a Written Constitution ! She re- 
 ceived it under the reign of a despot! No man 
 ever more hated constitutional rights, no man ever 
 frowned more savagely upon popular liberty, than 
 James. " Kingcraft," as he called it, was his voca- 
 tion, if he had any. In his own conceit, he was born 
 for it, inspired with it, a master of it. Such was his 
 daily boast. Yet he so handled his tools, that he was 
 unwittingly shaping a Commonwealth. " The en- 
 croachments of the prerogative, the avowed princi- 
 ples of arbitrary power, began to raise the spirit of 
 
 * " We, the Treasurer, Council, and Company, by authority directed 
 
 to us by his Majesty under the Great Seal, do hereby order 
 
 that henceforth there shall be Two Supreme Councils 
 
 The one The Council op State ( assisting to the 
 
 Governor) shall be chosen and displaced by Us The other, 
 
 to be called by the Governor yearly, and no oftener, but for very 
 
 extraordinary and important occasions, shall consist of the said 
 
 Council of State, and of two Burgesses out of every Town, Hundred, or 
 other particular Plantation, to be respectively chosen by the inhabitants ; 
 which Council shall be called The General Assembly, wherein (as 
 also in the said Council of State) all matters shall be decided," &c, re- 
 serving to the Governor always a negative voice. Then follow the 
 other qualifications and limitations stated briefly in our text. The ordi- 
 nance may be found entire in Stith, Appendix No. IV. See also Jeffer- 
 son's Notes on Virginia, Query XIII. 
 22 
 
254 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Liberty in the nation," — a spirit nowhere more active, 
 perhaps, than in the Quarter Sessions of the London 
 Company. The Solomon of England withstood and 
 goaded it in the Parliament ; so it wrought the more 
 efficiently in the Corporation, where it breathed the 
 breath of life, whence it received its first form, its first 
 habitation, and its first written gospel of great joy. 
 The sacred fire which the king stifled, they nour- 
 ished ; and while as yet they could build for it no 
 altar at home, they generously transmitted it, by 
 their charter, to the colony which they had fostered 
 abroad. 
 
 Like the symbolic woman in the Apocalypse, the 
 Genius of Liberty — clothed with the sun, having 
 the moon under her feet, and a crown of stars on her 
 head — travailed in birth, and pained to be delivered. 
 James, like the dragon of the vision, stood before her, 
 to devour her child as soon as it should be born. But 
 it was caught up, as a holy thing, under Divine pro- 
 tection. And the woman fled, where she had a place 
 prepared for her of God, into the wilderness, — which 
 helped her and the remnant of her seed. There was 
 no Star- Chamber in Virginia. 
 
 They were happy auspices under which Sir Francis 
 Wyatt commenced his administration on the 18th of 
 November, when he immediately convened the Gen- 
 eral Assembly under the new Constitution. At this 
 session, a system was established for the administra- 
 tion of justice, — the Governor and Council consti- 
 tuting a Supreme Court, and inferior courts being 
 appointed in the different settlements for the trial of 
 lesser cases, called County Courts, although the conn- 
 try was not yet laid off into counties. 
 
OPECHANCANOUGH. 255 
 
 At the time of his daughter's departure for Eng- 
 land, Powhattan had removed his residence to the 
 banks of the Potomac. Wearying of care as age 
 advanced, and grieving for the death of his beloved 
 Pocahontas, he gave himself up to the pastime of 
 visiting the different chiefs and tribes under his sway, 
 and left the charge of his government chiefly in the 
 hands of Opechancanough. This fact, added to his 
 personal popularity and his known pre-eminence in 
 point of talent over Itopatin, the next heir to the 
 government, caused the king of Pamunkey to be re- 
 garded as the rising sun ; and, as such, he received 
 the deference both of Indians and English. In addi- 
 tion to this, by a cunning artifice he had induced the 
 powerful and independent tribe of the Chickahominies 
 to elect him their king in the same year, 1616, — 
 an event which largely increased his consideration 
 and influence. Powhattan, having maintained con- 
 tinual peace with the English from the time of Poca- 
 hontas's marriage, had died in April, 1618. Itopatin 
 had succeeded to his title and office ; but Opechan- 
 canough, to his influence and real government. Both 
 immediately made a formal league of friendship with 
 the English, which they had maintained, in appear- 
 ance at least, until the arrival of Sir Francis Wyatt. 
 
 This gentleman, soon after his installation in office, 
 sent Mr. George Thorpe to the royal brothers on a 
 friendly embassy, and to renew and confirm former 
 leagues. They both gave fair and courteous re- 
 sponses ; but Opechancanough's deportment was 
 particularly gratifying. He began to talk about the 
 English God, and seemed to Mr. Thorpe to have 
 " more motions of religion " than could be expected 
 
256 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 of one so benighted. " Paganism," he said, " did not 
 satisfy him. He wanted to find the God of Captain 
 Smith. O that he might receive instruction ! How 
 gladly would he listen ! Could not some way be 
 devised to break the darkness of his poor heathen 
 soul ? Suppose that Mr. Thorpe should arrange that 
 some English families should come to reside among 
 his people, and that some of his people should go to 
 reside with the English. Thus he and others who 
 now knew no other god than Okee — and he did not 
 seem to be much of a god — might come to under- 
 stand about the English God, and thus they should 
 be all one people. Would not Mr. Thorpe try to do 
 so much for the poor Indians ? " " Certainly Mr. 
 Thorpe would " ; and the good man, much affected, 
 returned from his mission elated by these indications 
 of an opening door for the Gospel. 
 
 Mr. Thorpe had been one of King James's Gentle- 
 men of the Bed-chamber, was now one of the Gov- 
 ernor's Council, and the Superintendent of the Col- 
 lege lands. He was truly apostolic in his desire and 
 self-denial for the conversion of the Indians. For 
 their good, he had consented to leave his native land 
 to manage the affairs of the College, — their College 
 he considered it, — and was now laboring and pray- 
 ing for the conversion of the chief and his subjects. 
 Toward all these he was so tender in his feelings, and 
 so disinterestedly anxious to conciliate them, that he 
 could not bear to deny them any wish, or that they 
 should be subject to any annoyance. Amiable and 
 gentle as he was, he could exercise severity ; but only 
 upon those who wronged or insulted an Indian. 
 
 The land assigned to the College consisted of ten 
 
OPECHANCANOUGH. 257 
 
 thousand acres, laid off at Henrico, on which were 
 located about a hundred planters, who were tenants. 
 Half the profits of their labor was to be their own. 
 From the other half, " the fabricke " was to be built 
 in which " wilde young infidels " were to be trained 
 for wholesome life and heaven. For the personal 
 support of the Superintendent, three hundred acres 
 were assigned, on which were placed ten tenants. Mr. 
 Thorpe was hard at work in arranging and managing 
 the affairs of this important enterprise. There was 
 more of the secular than of the spiritual, however, in 
 his vocation at present. Houses were to be built, 
 and lands to be allotted, broken up, and planted. 
 Upon this preliminary drudgery he entered body and 
 soul, as the necessary means to a good and glorious 
 end. He could never divest himself of the impres- 
 sions made upon his mind, and the hopes enkindled, 
 by " the motions of religion " in Opechancanough ; 
 and, as the chief's residence was at no great distance 
 from the College manor, he determined to visit him. 
 He did so. He was cordially welcomed, treated with 
 the highest consideration, and listened to, when upon 
 religious topics, with earnest attention. All this was 
 hopeful in Mr. Thorpe's view, and he thanked God as 
 he was returning to his home. 
 
 " What a sorry hut ! " he soliloquized ; " what a 
 sorry hut for a king to live in! Suppose, now, I build 
 him a nice, comfortable English house. Would it 
 not win his confidence to a religion which leads its 
 followers to do kindness even to unbelieving Indians ? 
 Then he will listen to my instructions even more 
 teachably. Then, when he learns something more of 
 the Bible, the Lord may unseal his eyes and open his 
 
 22* 
 
258 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 heart. Then the other chiefs, and all the tribes, when 
 they see the great king believing in the true God and 
 Christ, will begin to learn. And then — and then — " 
 Thus he went on until he saw the desert blossoming 
 as the rose, and the weaned child with his hand on 
 the cockatrice's den. As the result of Mr. Thorpe's 
 meditations, a house was built for Opechancanough ; 
 and the two soon met there. The chief always had 
 a smile and a welcome for his good English friend ; 
 but at this meeting he was particularly elated, and 
 evinced both his gratitude and respect in every possi- 
 ble way. His delight was unbounded, as he rambled 
 with his visitor through the different apartments, and 
 asked the purpose of this and of that, and wondered 
 how each could have been constructed ; but by the 
 lock upon the door he was fascinated. He seemed 
 perfectly contented, the wonderful lock with its key 
 on the one side, and Mr. Thorpe with his Gospel on 
 the other. Now he would turn the key, and now 
 hear the words of grace. The lay missionary was 
 somewhat puzzled by the vacillation of the savage 
 mind between objects so dissimilar; but though the 
 royal pupil would sit and play lock and key a hundred 
 times a day, yet he was so pleased with the company 
 and discourse of his teacher, he asked so many ques- 
 tions about Christianity, and looked so earnestly when 
 he spoke or listened about it, that Mr. Thorpe could 
 not but strike the balance of probabilities against the 
 mystery of the lock, and in favor of the mystery of the 
 Gospel. It was so evident that he had won the chief's 
 ear and heart ! and how cheaply too ! only by a little 
 painstaking, a little kindness, and a little English cot- 
 tage with a lock and key ! O how grateful he was 
 
JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 259 
 
 for such free and easy access to the mind of this pagan 
 king ! He wished for only one thing more, — to lead 
 him within the spiritual fold. How tearfully he prayed 
 for him in secret places ! and how often, in the pres- 
 ence of his pupil, did he mentally exclaim, " How 
 can I give thee up ! " 
 
 Their interviews were repeated ; and their conver- 
 sations upon religious matters were long and frequent. 
 Opechancanough could not be far from the kingdom 
 of Heaven; and as for the peaceful behavior of the 
 catechumen and his subjects towards the English, 
 there was now in Mr. Thorpe's mind no shadow of 
 apprehension. His confidence in their good-will never 
 wavered to the moment of his death. The remark- 
 able fruits of Opechancanough's " motions of religion " 
 soon appeared. 
 
 On the fertile bank of a small creek between 
 James and York rivers lay a fair farm belong- 
 ing to a thrifty farmer by the name of Morgan. But 
 Morgan's thrift was not all the result of his labor on 
 the soil. He had a gift at traffic also, and had been 
 known to drive many a good bargain, when his pres- 
 ence was not needed upon his plantation, by exchang- 
 ing English trinkets for Indian corn and peltry. He 
 always had on hand more or less of those articles 
 which pleased the natives ; but in March of 1622 he 
 had still a large supply, although he had been driv- 
 ing a brisk trade during the winter. 
 
 Quite early in the month, and betimes in the morn- 
 ing, too, Morgan sat regaling himself with a pipe of 
 tobacco of his own raising. There was a stout Indian 
 with him doing likewise, whom Morgan had furnished 
 
260 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 with a lodging through the night, and with whom he 
 had just finished a hearty morning meal. Smoking 
 with a companion is a mystery which none but the 
 initiated comprehend. It includes good-fellowship, 
 and even a semi-mesmeric sympathy or interchange 
 of thoughts ; in other words, conversation without the 
 trouble of speaking or hearing. As such, our planter 
 and Indian enjoyed it, without a passing thought of 
 their difference in color, blood, or education. While 
 the pipes lasted, they were brother-spirits, — nothing 
 else. 
 
 This was no common Indian, and, as the sequel 
 will show, he had no little to do with the development 
 of Opechancanough's " motions of religion." He 
 was a noted warrior, known among his people by the 
 name of Nemattanow, a man of great bravery, and 
 considered by the Indians one of their chief war-cap- 
 tains. He had been engaged in many bloody con- 
 flicts with the English before the marriage of Poca- 
 hontas, and, though he had always freely exposed his 
 person, had never received the slightest injury. He 
 was exceedingly ambitious, and had adroitly taken 
 advantage of his many escapes to work upon the su- 
 perstitions of his countrymen, until they believed, 
 what he vauntingly maintained, that he was both in- 
 vulnerable and immortal, — in other words, something 
 more than human. Consequently he was regarded 
 with extreme veneration by all the associated tribes. 
 His great popularity was very annoying to Opechan- 
 canough, who looked upon him as a rival. He was a 
 shrewd fellow, and knew well that any eccentricity of 
 his would essentially increase the awe with which he 
 was regarded. For this purpose, as well as to gratify 
 
JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 261 
 
 his own vanity, he made himself as noted for his cos- 
 tume as for his invulnerability. He was never seen 
 bat in an extravagant dress, and one which to the eye 
 of an Indian was very grand. His hair was worn in 
 the usual Indian style, so trimmed as to stand perpen- 
 dicularly, about two inches in height, from the centre 
 of the forehead over the crown to the nape of the 
 neck, — a stiff ridge, "like a cock's comb," say the 
 old writers ; the hair on either side being drawn down 
 flat upon the scalp, and knotted behind the ears. But 
 Nemattanow was peculiar for his display of finery. 
 At each ear hung a beautiful spiral sea-shell, to which 
 were strung three or four pearls. Upon his broad 
 breast was suspended, by a string of Wampum Peak,* 
 a round tablet of about four inches in diameter, and 
 of the highest polish, having the figure of a new moon 
 and a few mystic characters skilfully etched upon the 
 surface. His neck, wrists, and ankles were also orna- 
 mented with chains of Peak ; while a few dull rings 
 of English manufacture were sported on his fingers. 
 A sort of half-petticoat hung from his waist down- 
 ward to the middle of his thigh. It was made of 
 nicely dressed deer-skin, slashed to a fringe around 
 the lower edge, as around the upper, which fell over 
 and concealed the girdle, while fanciful devices 
 wrought with Peak adorned the surface. His feet 
 
 * Peak was of two kinds, both made of the conch-shell. The one, of 
 a dark-purple color, and the most valued, was the Wampum Peak ; the 
 other, made of the white part of the shell, was called White Peak. " Eo- 
 anoke " was of far less value, and was made from the cockle-shell. All 
 these were fragments each one third of an inch long and one fourth of 
 an inch in diameter, wrought in cylindrical form, smooth and polished, 
 and strung by a hole drilled through the centre lengthwise. Peak and 
 Roanoke were Indian currency as well as ornaments. Beverly. 
 
262 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 were protected by moccasons ornamented with bead- 
 work, and made of dressed buckskin, drawn close to 
 the ankle by running strings. He wore also leggins 
 of the same material, gartered below the knee, and 
 tasselled. In winter he added a wrapper or mantle, 
 called a match-coat, made of a skin or skins with the 
 fur on and inwards ; and when in full dress, his head 
 was surmounted with a sort of coronet made of Peak 
 and beads nicely woven, and of delicate colors. He 
 carried his bow in his hand, and from his quiver, which 
 was slung behind, hung the tail of a panther, sweeping 
 the ground at his heels. But the warrior was most 
 remarkable for the manner in which he tricked out his 
 person with feathers. Wherever he could fasten them 
 to please his taste, he did so, — a long feather of the 
 eagle, or the hawk, or the wild turkey, or the gay, 
 glittering feather of the sea-drake, upon his head, his 
 apron, his bracelets, his garters, his anklets. An origi- 
 nal fantastic was Jack-of-the-Feather, as the English 
 called him. 
 
 As there is an end to all things, there was an end 
 to the silent conversation of Morgan and Jack. The 
 pipes were exhausted, the ashes knocked out; the 
 placid illusion was over ; and once more the planter 
 was a white man, the guest an Indian. Jack, with a 
 grunt of ineffable satisfaction, quietly laid his pipe 
 upon a rude bracket at hand, adjusted to his better 
 pleasing some of his ornaments, and broke silence : 
 " Has my white brother made great trade since the 
 corn-moon ? " 
 
 " No, no, Jack! " said the planter, in a desponding^ 
 tone : " your people are too cunning at trade for such 
 a simple man as I. They buy little ; they pay little 
 
jacktOf-the-feather. 263 
 
 when they do buy. Poor trade, Jack; very poor 
 trade! I think I must give it up." And Morgan 
 sighed heavily. 
 
 " Then you have not gone to the right place. The 
 white man should carry to those who want what he 
 has to sell, and who have plenty of what he wants." 
 
 " Nobody wants, and nobody has plenty," replied 
 Morgan, as though he had never found a customer. 
 
 u My white brother does not speak truly : many 
 want ; many have plenty." 
 
 " Who ? where ? " asked his host sharply. " I 
 can't find them." 
 
 " Jack-of-the-Feather knows." 
 
 Nemattanow fancied his English name, when in a 
 familiar mood. 
 
 " Well, then, who ? where ? Master Jack-of-the- 
 Feather ? " 
 
 " I can tell, if Master Morgan has things to sell." 
 
 " If I have them ! I tell you, Jack, I can't sell 
 them, your people are so poor, and so hard upon me. 
 You don't suppose I throw them away, do you ? " 
 
 " Perhaps so." 
 
 " 'S blood, man ! do you think I 'm a fool ? Look 
 here ! " And Morgan threw open a chest containing 
 a variety of glittering bawbles, which made the In- 
 dian's heart dance. 
 
 " A wise man," he said, in reply to Morgan's ques- 
 tion, — "a wise man will hunt by the trail. The 
 panther snuffs the scent on the wind." 
 
 " Well, Jack, I 'm neither a wise man nor a fool, 
 nor a hunter, nor a panther ; but I should like to sell 
 my goods." 
 
 " Then let my white brother go with me." 
 
264 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 « Where ? " 
 
 " To Pamunkey. They have much sldns ; no jew- 
 els, no English beads, no bells, — no anything but 
 corn and skins." 
 
 " Do they want to buy ? " 
 
 « Much." 
 
 « Will they ? " 
 
 " They will." 
 
 " What makes you think so ? " 
 
 « They say it." 
 
 " When ? " 
 
 " Yesterday. They did say, < Tell Master Morgan 
 come to us, for we have no presents for our women. 
 Our wives are getting cross, and our young women 
 do not look pleasant at our young men.' " 
 
 " Will you guide me through the woods ? " 
 
 " It will make the Pamunkeys happy. It will make 
 my white brother happy. Why should I not show 
 him the way, then ? " 
 
 " Then I will go." 
 
 The planter quickly gathered up his " truck," gave 
 a few orders to two stout young men, his servants, 
 slung his compact budget upon his arm, and left, 
 attended by Jack. Before night, the Indian had pos- 
 sessed himself of the planter's treasures ; the carrion- 
 bird was scenting on the wing the odor of death, and 
 down below her there in the forest lay the corpse of 
 poor Morgan stark and stiff. 
 
 Not more than two or three days after, Jack made 
 his appearance again upon the plantation, and alone. 
 
 " Where is master ? " inquired one of the servants. 
 
 " At Pamunkey," answered Jack, promptly. " He 
 get much skins." 
 
JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 265 
 
 « Why did he not come with you ? " 
 
 " He stay get much skins more. Jack could not 
 stay." 
 
 " What do you wear that cap for ? " 
 
 It was Morgan's cap, stuck full of feathers. 
 
 " The white man love Jack much, and give." 
 
 " Well, master's friend must come in, and get bread 
 and smoke pipe." 
 
 " And fire-water too ? " 
 
 " Yes, fire-water too." 
 
 Jack was soon seated in the house, and James left 
 him, saying that he would get fire-water. He soon 
 returned with Thomas, — they were the only per- 
 sons upon the plantation, — and, marching straight 
 up to the Indian, he laid his hand upon his shoulder. 
 Looking him full in the eye, he said sternly : K Jack, 
 you lie ! Where is master ? " 
 
 « He die." 
 
 The servants looked significantly at each other, and 
 Thomas now stationed himself also at Jack's side, and 
 grasped his arm. Their suspicions of foul play had 
 been very strong, but were greatly confirmed by the 
 Indian's avowal of Morgan's death. Jack, without 
 seeming in the least disconcerted, coolly told them to 
 let him alone. But the young men were sturdy, reso- 
 lute fellows, and were now not a little excited. 
 
 James replied boldly : " No, you red rascal ! we 
 shall not let you alone. Perhaps you 've murdered 
 master, — who knows ? You must go to Mr. 
 Thorpe." 
 
 " Jack-of-the-Feather will go on his own path. You 
 take off hands." And the warrior looked sternly in 
 their faces, 
 
 ?3 
 
266 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " No," said Thomas, " you must go and tell Mr. 
 Thorpe where Master Morgan is." 
 
 The Indian rose slowly to his feet. 
 
 " You bring Mr. Thorpe to me " ; and with one 
 swing of his powerful arm he hurled the servant 
 across the room. James, however, threw himself 
 resolutely upon Jack ; and Thomas regaining his 
 feet, there was a desperate struggle. No blows 
 passed ; the young men only trying to pinion the 
 Indian, and he only to free himself. After a little 
 rolling about, and some tumbles, the muscular sav- 
 age succeeded in releasing himself, and stood proudly 
 at bay. 
 
 " Little children should not try to wrestle with the 
 warrior-chief," he said coolly but scornfully. " They 
 might get hurt. It would make their mothers much 
 cry." 
 
 The young men were somewhat confused at their 
 discomfiture, but undaunted and determined. Jack's 
 sneer did not soothe them. 
 
 " You shall go to Mr. Thorpe," said Thomas. 
 
 " Ugh ! English pismire speak big words " ; and 
 the chief began to arrange his finery, which had 
 been put sadly out of place by the scuffle. 
 
 " Tom ! " said James, " this will never do. He 
 must not get away." 
 
 " Cripple him," replied Thomas, pointing with his 
 thumb over his shoulder ; and James disappeared. 
 
 " One gone," said the savage. " He is wise." 
 
 But a moment more, and James reappeared with a 
 musket. 
 
 " Now, Jack ! " said- he resolutely, " will you go to 
 Mr. Thorpe as you are, or will you be shot and go ? " 
 
JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 267 
 
 The Indian's bold look was a little changed at the 
 sight of the weapon ; but he haughtily replied : " Lis- 
 ten, little boy ! This is Nemattanow, the great war- 
 rior. Many English guns make shoot at him, but 
 where are their marks upon his skin? Not one. 
 Boy! save your powder." 
 
 Jack had lied so long and so many times about his 
 charmed life, that he half believed in it himself, and 
 stood his ground. 
 
 " Shoot him, Jim ! " exclaimed Thomas, in a pas- 
 sion. 
 
 " Once more," said James, presenting the piece ; 
 " will you go to Mr. Thorpe ? " 
 
 " Nemattanow is a good friend in his lodge ; in 
 battle, a warrior. Children ! tell Mr. Thorpe he can 
 find Nemattanow in either place " ; and the chief 
 turned deliberately to the door. 
 
 " Give me the gun, Jim ! " and his comrade caught 
 it from his hands. 
 
 Nemattanow had strode but a few paces upon the 
 greensward. The musket was discharged. The 
 chief, with a jerk, threw himself a little more erect, 
 placed his hand upon his side, stopped, turned his 
 face to his pursuers, tottered a moment, and fell. 
 
 The young men found him alive. Without a 
 word, they raised him to a sitting posture, and soon 
 succeeded in stopping the flow of blood, the Indian 
 yielding himself passively and sullenly to their man- 
 agement. He now revived sufficiently to support 
 himself; upon which the young men began to con- 
 sider what they should do. 
 
 " Going to Mr. Thorpe can't be done now, Jim. 
 The fellow cannot walk a mile." 
 
268 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 James studied for a moment the pallid face and 
 short breathing of the wounded man, and shook his 
 head. 
 
 " No, Tom, it can't be done. Slip him into the 
 boat, and take him down to Sir Francis. I 'm glad 
 he 's so near, for the sooner he knows the truth about 
 this business the better. There may be a fuss made 
 about it." 
 
 " You 're right, Jim, if we can get him to the 
 boat. Jack ! can you walk, poor fellow, if we help 
 you ? " 
 
 The Indian slowly raised his head, which had 
 drooped upon his breast, and looked toward the lads. 
 The natural fire of his eye was evidently flagging, 
 but it was yet there. The lid was heavy, and the 
 eye itself wavered, as if feeling after some object upon 
 which to fix itself; but he made no answer. 
 
 " Jack ! " said Thomas, dropping upon his knees, 
 and drawing the sufferer's shoulder gently upon his 
 own for support ; " Jack ! do you hear ? Can you 
 get to the creek if we help you ? We must take you 
 to the Governor. It will be all the way in the boat, 
 you know." 
 
 The poor man only groaned. 
 
 " Can't you speak ? " continued Thomas, taking 
 the Indian's hand kindly in his own. Jack slightly 
 pressed that of the man who had shot him ; but there 
 was a gentleness, a woman-like meaning in the pres- 
 sure, feeble as it was, which said more impressively 
 than words, " There is no enmity between me and 
 thee." Thomas felt its meaning, and was amazed. 
 
 " What 's come over the man ? " said he, looking at 
 his companion. " He feels my hand just as if I was 
 
JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 269 
 
 his brother ! Queer for a proud savage heathen, 
 an't it?" 
 
 " We can't stop to talk about his feel, Tom. Can 
 we get him to the boat ? " 
 
 The speaker's voice now arrested the roving mo- 
 tion of the Indian's eye, which became fixed upon 
 James's face with a wistful expression not to be 
 mistaken. 
 
 " He wants something," said James. " What is it, 
 Jack ? Would you like to go ? " 
 
 With a strong effort, the Indian managed to say, 
 "Water!" 
 
 " Get him some water, quick, Jim, while I hold 
 him." 
 
 The poor man drank eagerly and largely, and soon 
 revived enough to signify his assent to the plan of his 
 captors. They therefore supported him to the boat, 
 which was near, made an extempore mattress in it, on 
 which they laid him with all possible gentleness, and 
 in less than an hour had glided to the mouth of the 
 creek, and were floating on the broad current of the 
 James. Nemattanow had lain all this while with 
 his eyes closed, and giving no sign of suffering but 
 an occasional groan, or a faint call for water. Nei- 
 ther had the two servants broken silence, except now 
 and then by monosyllables. Once in the channel of 
 the river, they hoped soon to be where Sir Francis 
 Wyatt then was, the whole distance being only about 
 seven or eight miles from their plantation. But the 
 Indian now began to be very restless, and was evi- 
 dently in great distress. 
 
 " What can I do for you, Jack ? " said Thomas, 
 whose compassion was much excited, even to tears. 
 
 23* 
 
270 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " Thank ! " said Nemattanow, in a husky voice, 
 " One thing. Two thing. Then I die." 
 
 " O no, werowance ! " said James ; " we shall soon 
 be there. We shall get you a medicine-man then, 
 and you will be better." 
 
 " No, no ! " said Nemattanow, with some energy ; 
 for although his distress was evidently increasing, 
 either his strength or his resolution seemed to be in- 
 creasing also. " No, no ! " he repeated, raising him- 
 self upon his elbow, " I die. You do for Jack one 
 thing ? You do two ? " 
 
 " Yes, Jack ; one thing, or two things, or any- 
 thing we can," said Thomas, most earnestly. 
 
 " Hold, Tom ! " interposed James. " Let us know 
 first what you want, Jack ? " 
 
 " When I die, do not send me to my people. Put 
 me in the ground with the English. You do this ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " exclaimed Thomas, impulsively. 
 
 " No, Jack ; we cannot promise yet," said James. 
 " We will not do any such thing for you, unless you 
 will do for us." 
 
 " Do ! What can Jack-of-the-Feather do now ? " 
 
 " You must tell us about master." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " How he died, and where he is." 
 
 " And then you do for me ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Two thing ? " 
 
 " What is the other ? " 
 
 " Do not let my people know that the English gun 
 shoot me. Do not let them know I die." 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 The dying chief sat up erect. Death was stamped 
 
JACK-OF-THE-FEATHER. 271 
 
 upon his features, but he was struggling with it hard. 
 The spirit of the warrior was within him proud and 
 strong. His eye glowed, he stretched out his brawny 
 arm with a most impressive and even majestic air, 
 and answered : " Nemattanow great warrior. His 
 people say he is a god ; that nothing hurt him ; that 
 he cannot die. Let them say it. Let them think 
 it when the great warrior is dead. Tell them I go to 
 the hunting-grounds of the brave, but not tell I die. 
 Say I go up on the mountain-top ; the Great Spirit 
 send cloud very bright, and take Nemattanow up. 
 So they will be proud of their great chief ; and Ne- 
 mattanow will be happy. You do two thing ? " 
 
 w If you tell the truth about Master Morgan." 
 
 " Then you do for me ? " 
 
 « yes ! " « Yes ! " responded both. 
 
 « I kul." 
 
 " You killed him ? " 
 
 " Yes, I kill." 
 
 In answer to their inquiries where the corpse of 
 their master might be found, the chief told as well as 
 it could be done ; but the information led to no dis- 
 covery. Of his motives for the murder, and of its 
 particulars, he would say nothing. Solemnly re- 
 minding the young men that by his confession they 
 were pledged to fulfil his wishes, he signified that 
 conversation was at an end. 
 
 " Now," said he, " let the warrior die. Nematta- 
 now will go to his fathers." 
 
 He held out his hands, one to each of his captors ; 
 grasped theirs in a mute but cordial farewell, and fell 
 back upon his couch. After two or three minutes he 
 rose again, and began a wild chant in his native 
 
272 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 tongue. There were signs of bodily anguish which 
 he could not suppress ; but his face was radiant with 
 pride and exultation, and every note of his song was 
 clear, nervous, triumphant. The young men knew 
 a little of the Indian tongue ; enough to perceive that 
 he was recounting his exploits on the war-path, and 
 bidding the spirits of the dead to receive a mighty 
 warrior with honor. 
 
 Thus died Nemattanow ; ingloriously, but full of 
 pride ; a heathen, but firm and exultant in the hope 
 of immortality ; ignorant of the true God, but stead- 
 fast and consistent to the last in the only faith and 
 the only virtues which he knew. The historian 
 sneers at his passion for posthumous admiration, 
 yet cherishes the same folly, and calls himself a — 
 Christian ! The Pharisee scorns the pagan's fidelity 
 to a creed so meagre, yet does no honor to his own by 
 obedience. The puling spiritualist shudders at the 
 bold and boastful transit of an Indian warrior, yet is 
 there a great gulf between his own life and the sim- 
 plest precepts of Christ. Each is a mystery to all but 
 God ; and a living caricature of the Gospel, however 
 demure, may not exalt himself over the dying devotee 
 of a sensuous faith. Each is a mystery to all but 
 God ; and so is the dying hour of each, with its oper- 
 ations and its issues* 
 
 * Smith, 144. Stitb, 208, 209. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 
 
 The report of this double tragedy had hardly 
 been made to Sir Francis Wyatt, when it was 
 represented to him that Opechancanough was loud in 
 his threats to revenge the death of Nemattanow. 
 Prudence dictated that the rumor should be promptly 
 noticed. Accordingly the Governor despatched a mes- 
 senger charged to impress upon the chief the injustice 
 and the very bad policy of any hostile demonstra- 
 tions. The message was delivered about the middle 
 of March. Opechancanough was plainly told what 
 rumors had reached the Governor's ears ; that Ne- 
 mattanow, although killed in a scuffle, had suffered 
 justly as the murderer of an English subject; and 
 that any attempt at retaliation on the part of the 
 Indians would be terribly punished. 
 
 The chief received the messenger with the utmost 
 respect and friendliness. " He was very much sur- 
 prised, he was grieved, that his peaceful disposition 
 should be called in question ! What was the death 
 of Nemattanow to him but a matter of consratula- 
 
 o 
 
 tion ? The fellow had always been a thorn in his 
 side. Had not Opechancanough told Sir George 
 Yeardley that he would thank him if he would have 
 Nemattanow's throat cut? Let Sir Francis ask Sir 
 George. What did Opechancanough desire more 
 
274 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 than to see his people and the English living together 
 like neighbors, like brothers ? He had been arranging 
 with Mr. Thorpe for this very sort of intercourse, and 
 now should he break it up ? Let the Governor ask 
 Mr. Thorpe about his heart toward the English. Mr. 
 Thorpe knew all about it, for he was teaching him 
 the good religion. Had he not already made a treaty 
 of peace, in which he had even consented that the 
 English should freely occupy any lands under his con- 
 trol not already tilled or built upon by the Indians ? 
 Was not that friendship ? To show his sincerity and 
 the perpetuity of that treaty, had it not been already 
 engraved upon brass, and fixed upon the most vener- 
 able oak in his forests, that it might be had in ever- 
 lasting remembrance ? and had not this been done 
 at the request of Opechancanough himself? What 
 more could Sir Francis expect ? No ! the sky would 
 fall before he should break peace ! " 
 
 Such energetic asseverations on the chief's part, 
 although not alone satisfactory, were so in their con- 
 nections. Mr. Thorpe, who knew him intimately, had 
 the utmost confidence in his pacific disposition, and 
 in his " motions of religion." Besides, the chief had 
 sent such a message to Sir George, and of his sinceri- 
 ty in doing so there could be no doubt. Under these 
 circumstances, all apprehension subsided ; and the 
 little flurry to which the death of the Indian favorite 
 had given rise, passed away like a morning vapor. 
 All was again tranquil and sunny. All wore the 
 aspect of peace. All rejoiced in a sense of security. 
 
 The tide of prosperity had now fairly set in upon 
 the colony, which had so long struggled against every 
 conceivable hinderance and misfortune. During the 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 275 
 
 three preceding years, the number of immigrants had 
 been large. Forty-two ships and twelve hundred 
 mariners had been employed in the transportation of 
 three thousand five hundred and seventy men and 
 women, besides abundance of provisions and cattle ; 
 and the entire population amounted to about four 
 thousand.* They were enjoying, under their new 
 form of government, greater privileges and thrift than 
 the most sanguine among them had ever ventured to 
 expect. The people were scattered wherever they 
 could find spots favorable to their several avocations, 
 " and the further from neighbors held the better." Iron- 
 works, under the charge of Mr. John Berkeley, were 
 in a state of forwardness at Falling Creek, and they 
 were expected soon to be in successful operation. 
 They had planted cotton for the first time the year 
 before, and with such results that they were preparing 
 for a new crop, and with sanguine hopes. Mulberry- 
 
 * Jefferson, in his Notes on Virginia, states the population for this 
 year to have been three thousand eight hundred. Other writers indicate 
 it as low as three thousand five hundred. The authority which I have 
 before me is a volume entitled, " A Declaration of the State of the Colo- 
 ny and Affaires in Virginia, with a Relation of the Barbarous Massacre, 
 in the Time of Peace and League, treacherously executed by the Native 
 Infidels vpon the English, the 22d of March last." It was " imprinted " 
 at London in 1622, and "Published by Authoritie." On page 14 it 
 states, in agreement with other writers, that the number of those who 
 perished was three hundred and forty-seven; and on page 18, that 
 " about eleven parts of twelve of the English were still remayning." 
 This would make the population previously to have been four thou- 
 sand one hundred and sixty-four, supposing the proportion of twelve 
 to eleven to have been exact. 
 
 The number of immigrants which I have given in the text, for the 
 preceding three years, is as given in the same little volume, on page 6. 
 
 On this " Declaration " I chiefly rely in sketching the following narra- 
 tive. 
 
276 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 trees were cultivated in abundance, silk-worms were 
 prospering well, and the people were expecting soon 
 to produce silk, under the superintendence of expe- 
 rienced Frenchmen, who had been brought over for 
 the purpose. French vine-dressers also had been sent 
 out by the Company, and promised soon to manufac- 
 ture wine in large quantities, a sample of which they 
 had already sent to England. Fig-trees, pomegran- 
 ates, potatoes, sugar-cane, hemp, flax, &c., &c. were 
 also under cultivation. 
 
 So much were the Company elated by this state of 
 things, that "they voted that a sermon should be 
 preached to testify and express their thankfulness to 
 God for his blessing on their labors and undertaking" ; 
 and this was done at the Bow Street Church in Lon- 
 don, on the 17th day of April. 
 
 In addition to what we have stated, the most 
 friendly and confiding intercourse was maintained be- 
 tween the colonists and the natives. The Indians dis- 
 played no jealousy or ill-will toward the English ; the 
 English had none toward the Indians. The latter, 
 always of a roving disposition, were to be seen daily 
 moving about the plantations ; and to such a degree 
 was this intimacy carried, that there was not a family 
 whose numbers, whose persons, whose crops, whose 
 times and places of labor, whose domestic habits, and 
 whose private apartments even, they did not know. 
 The houses of the planters were always open to the 
 natives. The Indian came when he pleased, and 
 when he pleased returned to his hut in the woods. 
 He brought his burden of venison or wild-fowl, of fish 
 or fruits, to sell ; was welcomed to the white man's 
 table, and lodged under his roof, and in the morning 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 277 
 
 received a return for his commodities, and went away 
 cheerily for home. In short, the Indians and the Eng- 
 lish " seemed entirely to have coalesced, and to live 
 together as one people," except that there were no in- 
 termarriages between them, for the English " excepted 
 against the Indian women on account of their being 
 Pagans, as well as their complexions." Besides all 
 these happy circumstances, there were to be taken 
 into account the strong yearnings of Opechancanough 
 after the Truth. They might soon result in his con- 
 version ! The influence of this upon his countrymen 
 who could estimate ? 
 
 In such a state of •things, the planter could go to his 
 field, or the trafficker upon his business, or the mem- 
 ber of the Council to his duty at Jamestown, without 
 the encumbrance of sword or firelock. Arms were 
 altogether slighted. Guns were out of use, except 
 when a planter was in the humor to bring down a 
 deer or a turkey. Indeed, scarcely any weapon was 
 to be found in the dwellings of the English more for- 
 midable than the axe, the spade, or the hoe. 
 
 On the 21st of March there was a peculiar move- 
 ment of the various tribes under the sway of Ope- 
 chancanough, whose talents and warlike qualities had 
 acquired for him, not only the election of the powerful 
 Chickahominies as their king, but the popular and 
 practical ascendency over the dominions of Powhat- 
 tan, to whom Itopatin had nominally succeeded. 
 This movement was universal. It was conducted in 
 silence, and almost wholly under cover of the for- 
 ests. The natives were not only astir, but they were 
 all converging, in detached parties, and with the 
 
 24 
 
278 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 greatest regularity and concert, towards the various 
 settlements of the whites. The first parties in motion 
 were from their remote villages ; but as these and the 
 day advanced, others and still others from other and 
 nearer villages took up their march. Only those who 
 were within a few hours of the plantations remained 
 quiet during the day. But as the sun went down, 
 new parties were on foot, and still new ones as the 
 night advanced, until, when the day of the 22d 
 dawned, there was not a wigwam in all the extensive 
 tract which had not sent forth its warrior. Yet still 
 the movement progressed, each party with more and 
 yet more caution as they approached yet nearer to the 
 several plantations, treading one behind another, each 
 man in the footprint of his predecessor, and the last 
 carefully effacing every vestige of their march. Rare- 
 ly did any two parties come in hearing or sight of one 
 another ; but when they did, they exchanged no word, 
 but, with a silent recognition, pursued their several 
 courses. By sunrise there was not a settlement of the 
 English which they had not closely surrounded. Then 
 they quietly laid themselves down to rest in the woods, 
 that they might be refreshed for the festivity which 
 they had planned. 
 
 Never did the most accomplished general plan and 
 carry out with more celerity and precision so compli- 
 cated a movement of so many bodies of men, and from 
 so many and so distant points. No mistake, no dis- 
 order, occurred. 
 
 That the English upon this occasion might not lack 
 for good cheer, Opechancanough had deputed a suffi- 
 cient number to go in advance of their companions, 
 with presents to the principal men of the colonists. 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 279 
 
 The evening before, it would seem, he had sent veni- 
 son and fish and wild-fowl to Sir Francis Wyatt at 
 Jamestown, and to some of the members of the Coun- 
 cil, "with expressions of regard and assurances of 
 friendship." * This morning, some of the Indians, 
 leaving their fellows in the woods, went to others of 
 the Council,! with like presents and in great abun- 
 dance, saying that then: chief had had good luck 
 in his hunting, and would share it with the white 
 chiefs, his brethren, that they might be merry while he 
 was merry. At the same time others entered the plan- 
 tations, bearing game for sale ; while a few, in the 
 course of the morning, emerged from the woods in 
 company with white men, whom they had guided 
 carefully to their several homes by direction of Ope- 
 chancanough. They were all frankly welcomed by 
 the English, who gladly bought or accepted what 
 they brought, and cheerfully loaned to them their 
 boats as they would cross to or fro upon the river. 
 Opechancanough must have had a great hunt, and a 
 very brotherly heart toward the English, for there was 
 not a single plantation where were not Indians bear- 
 ing burdens of wild-fowl and deer. It seldom, if 
 ever, had happened that so many visited the settle- 
 ments at once ; and never had they been more cour- 
 teous and friendly in their deportment. 
 
 u Welcome, Tettatnow ! " exclaimed Mr. Thorpe, 
 as an Indian appeared at his door. 
 
 " The white chief has a good heart," replied Tettat- 
 now ; " he always welcome for Indian." 
 
 * Burk, I. 240 ; Beverley, 39 ; Smith, 144. 
 t Burk, I. 239; Keith, 138. 
 
280 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " And why not ? We have the same Father above. 
 Are we not brothers, then, Tettatnow ? " 
 
 " We are brothers," the Indian responded, as he 
 seated himself in a chair which his host presented. 
 " Tettatnow bring his brother much present from Ope- 
 chancanough." And he pointed through the open 
 door to two Indians who had followed him, laden 
 with the spoils of the forest. 
 
 " Opechancanough is very kind to his white broth- 
 er," replied Mr. Thorpe, and the good man's face 
 beamed with pleasure. The present was valuable, 
 but not half so much so for its own sake as for its 
 evidence of Opechancanough's esteem and affection. 
 
 " He think much what Mr. Thorpe say about God 
 of the English ; and when the God of the English 
 send him good hunt, he say, ' Because Mr. Thorpe 
 pray him.' So he send some for thank." 
 
 Mr. Thorpe smiled at the Indian's simplicity ; at 
 the same time inwardly praying, with thanksgiving, 
 that light might be vouchsafed to his royal pupil. 
 
 Tettatnow was a warrior of some repute among his 
 people, and a confidential assistant of Opechanca- 
 nough. Mi*. Thorpe had met him at the dwelling of 
 the chief; and had often entertained him, both by day 
 and by night, at his own. Tettatnow had heard many 
 words of Christian instruction from his lips ; and the 
 two were on a footing of as much ease and familiarity 
 as could ever exist in those days between a white 
 man of station, and a dignified, courtier-like Indian. 
 The sun had but just risen when the latter made his 
 appearance ; and Mr. Thorpe had been sitting alone 
 at his table in a little room which served him as a 
 study and a place of business, enjoying at the same 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 281 
 
 time the goodness of God in the fresh air of the morn- 
 ing and in the promises of the Word. He now closed 
 his Bible, and went with Tettatnow to receive the 
 present of the chief. 
 
 After delivering it to the care of one of his servants, 
 and after a little desultory conversation, Mr. Thorpe 
 said : " Tettatnow, you know that we always pray 
 to our God in the morning. It is now our time. Will 
 you and your men come with us while we pray ? " 
 
 " We will come. But why do you pray to your 
 God ? Is he not good ? " 
 
 " To be sure ! He is all goodness. We pray be- 
 cause he is good." 
 
 " Not like Indian, then. Indian's God good too. 
 Because he is good, we not pray." 
 
 " Not pray because he is good ! I do not under- 
 stand, Tettatnow. Besides, I have been told you do 
 pray. Opechancanough prays to the Indian's God." 
 
 u No, no, Mr. Thorpe. Our God is up above the 
 sky. He so great, no man understand him. He so 
 happy, he cannot be happier. He so kind, he not be 
 kinder for pray, for nothing else. Look, Mr. Thorpe ! 
 is not the ground covered with dew ? Look more, 
 Mr. Thorpe ! will not the grass grow and the flower 
 open because they are washed with the dew and 
 warmed ? From where come the warm ? From the 
 sun. From where come the dews ? From the morn- 
 ing's womb. Do you pray the morning to send the 
 dews ? Do you pray the sun to send warm ? No, 
 no, Mr. Thorpe ! Why no ? Because the sun so full 
 he run over, and send warm without pray, of himself; 
 and the morning so full she spill out the dews with- 
 out pray, of herself. So Indian's God. He so full 
 
 24* 
 
282 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 of good, he run over. It drop down everywhere with- 
 out pray. He so full, he cannot help it, — just like 
 the sky, just like the sun. So we no pray, him." 
 " But you do pray, Tettatnow." 
 
 " Not to Great Spirit. He so full of good, it come 
 down without pray. He so great, he not stop to hear 
 so little words of little small Indian. He just open 
 his big stream of good all the time. It flow along, 
 and flow along everywhere ; for Mr. Thorpe, for Ope- 
 chancanough, for Tettatnow, for all. Let each one 
 drink. What for I pray the stream flow, when it 
 flow all the time, and all around ? No, Mr. Thorpe, 
 we not pray the Great Spirit : we pray the bad spirit, 
 Okee." 
 
 " The bad spirit ! the Devil ! Good God ! for 
 what?" exclaimed Mr. Thorpe, in amazement. 
 
 " If we not pray him, he angry, and spoil the good 
 things the Great Spirit sends. He give thunder and 
 storm, and war and sick, and no food. We pray 
 him, then he keep back thunder and storm and other 
 bads, and let us have the food and health and peace 
 which come along on the great river of God. That 
 the way Indian pray. But Tettatnow will pray Eng- 
 lish God with Mr. Thorpe. He much good Spirit too. 
 But he like pray ; so Tettatnow will pray him." * 
 
 Mr. Thorpe, somewhat perplexed, mused a few mo- 
 ments in silence, and then said : " Well, Tettatnow, 
 we will pray to the English God now. It is our 
 time. Afterwards we will eat, and then we will talk 
 more." 
 
 " It is good," said Tettatnow. 
 
 * Beverly, 170. 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 283 
 
 • The Indians were uniformly very unwilling to com- 
 municate their notions of religion. Hence the words 
 of Tettatnow were strange to Mr. Thorpe, notwith- 
 standing his previous intimacy with the natives, and 
 the many discourses which he had had with them 
 upon religious matters. But his visitor was in a pe- 
 culiarly communicative mood, and, as the sequel will 
 show, cared not what knowledge his white friend 
 might acquire, his only object being to gain the con- 
 fidence and friendly interest of Mr. Thorpe by throw- 
 ing off all reserve. 
 
 At a word from Mr. Thorpe, a long blast from a 
 conch-shell was given, the signal for morning prayer ; 
 and in a few minutes all the servants of the farm and 
 all the inmates of the house were ranged in the com- 
 mon hall. The three Indians likewise, half clad in 
 their wild costume of skins and trinkets, sat gravely 
 in the places assigned to them. After reading from 
 the Sacred Scriptures and singing a hymn of praise, 
 the family rose to kneel in prayer. This simultaneous 
 movement startled the two stranger Indians. A look 
 of mingled alarm and defiance crossed their features, 
 and they half sprang to their feet ; but the composed 
 attitude of Tettatnow, to whom the service was not 
 new, and an almost imperceptible sign of rebuke from 
 his eye, reassured them, and the incident passed al- 
 most unnoticed. The Indians sat perfectly quiet and 
 respectful while Mr. Thorpe read the prayer for the 
 day. But the good man's heart could not be con- 
 fined to the form of words. The wild sons of the 
 forest were in his presence, the heathen were there by 
 the very steps of the altar, — how could he refrain 
 from special petitions in their behalf? Earnestly did 
 
284 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 he plead for them and for their brethren, that they 
 might be brought to the knowledge of the Truth, that 
 English and Indian might have one fold and one 
 Shepherd. This was a usual burden of his prayers ; 
 but this morning he seemed earnest and importunate 
 as the Patriarch when he interceded for the cities of 
 the plain. 
 
 The family now dispersed to make preparations 
 for their morning meal, and Mr. Thorpe, with his 
 three guests, stepped out to loiter upon the green- 
 sward. An English mastiff welcomed his master 
 with signs of affection ; but, setting his eyes savagely 
 upon the Indians, gave a low, sullen growl, indicative 
 of dislike and jealousy. They shrank back terrified, 
 for the natives dreaded these strange and powerful 
 animals even more than the English fire-arms. Mr. 
 Thorpe, bidding his guests by no means to retreat, 
 lest they should provoke an attack from the dog, im- 
 mediately laid hands upon him, and called angrily 
 for one of his servants. 
 
 " How many times, Thomas, must I repeat my 
 orders that this dog shall not be permitted to frighten 
 the Indians ? Take him and chain him ; and if you 
 are not more careful, I certainly shall have him killed 
 too." 
 
 Mr. Thorpe had already caused several mastiffs to 
 be killed, and to the great grief of their owners, for 
 no other reason than that they were objects of terror 
 to the Indians. 
 
 " I will chain him, sir," replied the man, sulkily, 
 " because I must ; but if I could — " 
 
 " If you could what, sirrah ? " 
 
 " If I could have my say, I would say that some 
 dogs know more nor some men." 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 285 
 
 " Thomas ! " said Mr. Thorpe, with some stern- 
 ness, "if I did not know you as well as I do, I 
 should think you were insolent. What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " God forbid, Measter Thorpe ! " replied the man, 
 humbty. » I only mean that dumb brutes some- 
 times see danger where men do not. They seem 
 to have some kind o' senses that we ha' n't to make 
 up for their dumbness, like ; an' somehow it seems 
 to me that we ought n't to slight 'em when they 
 bristle up an' growl so. They always means some- 
 thin', sir." 
 
 " You are a silly fellow, Thomas, if you think 
 there is anything to be afraid of now. So go and 
 chain up the brute." 
 
 The man did so ; but he growled as much as the 
 dog, declaring, aside, that his master must be half 
 a fool himself, to think there was nothing to be afraid 
 of when there were so many Indian devils about. 
 
 " Buck ! yer are a dog o' sense," said he, patting 
 him with a patronizing air. " Maybe I mought say 
 yer a Christian dog. Yer can't bear the sight nor 
 smell o' a heathen, anyhow. Now, Buck, yer did n't 
 see how the devils looked when master was a prayin', 
 did yer? No, yer did n't, Buck, 'cause yer warn't 
 there. But I did though, 'cause why? 'Cause I 
 was there. An' did n't I peek under my arm ? and 
 did n't I see their infernal faces a lookin' as though 
 they 'd like to eat us all, the devils ; just like the old 
 un what goes round like a lion a roarin' ? An' yet, 
 Buck, though yer did n't see that, an' though yer 
 can't read Scripter nor more 'n I, yer knowed as quick 
 as yer seed 'em they was devils. Yes, good feller! 
 
286 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Yer knowed jest as well ! Atween this an' that, Buck, 
 I think yer 've more sense on this pint nor Measter 
 Thorpe hisself. Them 's my opinions, Buck ! " Buck 
 growled assent. " Tom is right, an't he ? " and the 
 man seated himself, throwing his arm lovingly over 
 the dog's neck, patting him, and looking into his 
 clear, intelligent eye. Buck licked Tom's nose. 
 
 " Now, Buck, tell me, what 's so many on 'em 
 round for this mornin' ? an' what makes 'em so 
 cussed perlite, a smilin' an' a smilin' ? Yer remem- 
 ber, old feller, what one of them Drury Lane popin- 
 jays said one night, ' Can smile an' smile, an' be a 
 villain ' ? Ay, yer do, do ye ? An' that makes yer 
 suspicious on 'em, does n't it ? Right, Buck ! Yer 
 an' I 's o' the same mind exactly. A smilin', an' a 
 smilin', an' a givin' away venison an' buds, an' a 
 goin' to prayer, an' a grinnin' like hell, the infernals ! 
 Good by, Buck ! Keep a sharp look out, an' speak 
 if yer want to." 
 
 So saying, the man went grumbling into the 
 house. 
 
 A bounteous breakfast was served, Tettatnow shar- 
 ing his meal at a table with Mr. Thorpe, and the 
 other Indians with the servants. Tettatnow was un- 
 usually talkative and cheerful, and the others were 
 bland and considerate in their demeanor, but not able 
 to converse in English. The meal finished, every 
 man went his way, wherever upon the plantation his 
 services were required. Mrs. Howies, the housekeeper, 
 composing her babe in its little bed, resumed her do- 
 mestic cares, while Richard, her husband, smiling 
 upon the infant, betook himself to the field. Tettat- 
 now, begging of Mr. Thorpe the loan of a boat, sent 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 287 
 
 one of his men across the river, while he and the 
 other sauntered about the premises of Berkeley Hun- 
 dred. 
 
 Such was the free and easy deportment of the In- 
 dians on this memorable Friday morning, not only 
 on Mr. Thorpe's plantation, about five miles* from 
 Charles City, but at all the English settlements to 
 which they had gained access. 
 
 Mr. Thorpe, after passing an hour or two in the 
 business of his office, went out to inspect the labors 
 of the field, and was immediately joined by Tettat- 
 now and his companion. 
 
 " I see," said he, " that many of your people are 
 with us to-day. We are glad to see them." There 
 were at least a dozen Indians then in sight. 
 
 " So great hunt give our people much glad. They 
 come to make much trade." 
 
 A pleasant conversation followed, partly upon the 
 English modes of tillage, partly upon matters of re- 
 ligious faith and duty. Tettatnow was all attention, 
 and manifested a very inquiring and teachable dis- 
 position. Thus passed the time until nearly the 
 hour of noon, when their conference was interrupted 
 by Thomas, who called his master aside, saying : 
 " Measter Thorpe, I can't be easy a minute, for these 
 Indian devils. I must speak my mind, sir." 
 
 " Well, Thomas, speak your mind, if it will make 
 you easy." 
 
 "I'm sure there 's mischief a brewin', sir, an' we 'd 
 best take care of ourselves." 
 
 * So says the " Declaration." Smith and Burk state the distance at 
 fifty miles. 
 
288 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 u Thomas ! you are very suspicious, and, it seems 
 to me, without any reason. We have always treated 
 the Indians kindly. It is for their interest to behave 
 peaceably, and they cannot wish or dare to do us any 
 harm. Besides, they would fear to offend their chief, 
 who is our firm friend. Look, Thomas ! every Indian 
 whom you see is unarmed. They have no bows and 
 arrows, nor any other weapons. Go to your work, 
 man, and give up these foolish fears." 
 
 " If you 'd a seed what I have, sir, maybe you 'd 
 think different." 
 
 " What have you seen, Thomas ? " 
 
 " I seed them three when you was to prayer, Meas- 
 ter, an' they 'd the strangest look o' their eyes you 
 ever seed." 
 
 "What look?" 
 
 " Ugly, like ; kind o' snaky, sir, just as though 
 they 'd jump an' eat every mother's son o' us." 
 
 " All a fancy of yours, Thomas." 
 
 "I do' know, Measter, I do' know. Sometimes 
 a man's eyes tells tales when he don't mean it, a bein' 
 more honest nor himself. Besides, I 've seed them 
 copper-faces all over the field a puttin' their cussed 
 heads together, just as if they was a plottin' some- 
 thin' ; an' a lookin' up to the sun as if they wanted 
 to see the time o' day. What d' they want o' the 
 time o' day ? An' then, not half an hour ago, they 
 begins to keep up kind o' close to us when we 's to 
 work, — closer nor /like, Measter Thorpe." 
 
 " Do let them talk together, if they want to ; and if 
 you don't like them so near, tell them so. Don't be 
 foolish, man." 
 
 " An' then, sir, the dog, he keeps a growlin' an' a 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 289 
 
 growlin'. An' not half an hour ago, what does he do 
 but he ups an' begins a howlin' an' a howlin' like 
 mad. He smells somethin' wrong, I 'm sure. Them 
 dogs ha' got strange foresight sometimes. I wish 
 you 'd let me unchain him, sir." 
 
 " No, no, Thomas. If he is so uneasy, he would 
 only frighten, or perhaps bite, these poor naked In- 
 dians. Let him be, and be easy yourself, can't 
 you ? " 
 
 " Then, sir," continued the man, with tears in his 
 eyes, " I beg you to go away into the house. For 
 God's sake, sir, take care of yourself. There 's no 
 harm in that" 
 
 " I '11 take care, my good fellow," said Mr. Thorpe, 
 much affected by the man's emotion ; " but the In- 
 dians are my friends." 
 
 " Good God, Measter ! I beg you to come away. 
 If you won't, let me take care of myself." 
 
 " O yes ! " replied Mr. Thorpe, laughing ; " only 
 don't forget your dinner, Thomas. It will be ready 
 soon " ; and he returned to his Indian friends, while 
 his timid servant swiftly disappeared. 
 
 Tettatnow, upon Mr. Thorpe's return, eagerly pro- 
 pounded a question about the Christian's heaven, 
 which roused all the good man's enthusiasm. 
 
 " It is a glorious heaven, Tettatnow ; full of love, 
 full of happiness. All are good there ; no hatred, no 
 sorrow, no doing wrong. We are both great sinners, 
 Tettatnow ; but if we love Jesus and serve him here, 
 then he will forgive us, and we shall both go there 
 and see him. And oh ! it will be enough only to 
 see Him, — our Redeemer ! And then he will smile 
 upon us, and call us his people, and tell us how he 
 
 25 
 
290 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 has always loved us. And then our hearts will be so 
 full of joy, that we shall always be singing, i Glory 
 and honor and — ' " 
 
 When and where and how did this lay apostle 
 finish his description? Not in this world. A blow 
 from behind, dealt with the whole strength of the 
 stranger Indian, had cleft the good man's skull. At 
 the instant, Tettatnow raised the war-yell. It was 
 echoed on every side. Indians sprang from the 
 woods, armed with bows and arrows and tomahawks. 
 Three or four men fell instantly by the hands of the 
 Indians who were near them, struck down with their 
 own implements of husbandry. Others, taking the 
 alarm, attempted flight. Shrieks came from the 
 house, but only a momentary effort could the mother 
 make to save her child. Both were slain, as was the 
 husband and father abroad. Brief cries for help, and 
 dying groans from strong men struck unawares, re- 
 sounded from the field. The straggling Indians in 
 sight, reinforced by those who had lain in ambush, 
 made quick and savage work with their unsuspecting 
 victims. The mastiff yelled with rage, and leaped 
 frantically to the end of his chain. But it was strong, 
 and the faithful creature, before whom every Indian 
 would have fled, expended his efforts in vain. The 
 work of death went on amid the yells of onslaught 
 and of triumph. A single man — it was Howies, 
 nerved by the thought of his wife and babe — chanced 
 to stand at bay ; but unarmed, bewildered, and sur- 
 rounded by half a score of foes, he added but a mo- 
 ment to his life. On the ploughed field, on the grass, 
 in the house, lay eleven corpses weltering in blood, — 
 Mr. Thorpe, eight men, one mother, and her child. 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 291 
 
 Whether any escaped, save the man Thomas, does 
 not appear in the records of the transaction. Not ten 
 minutes had passed after Mr. Thorpe fell, when the 
 slaughter was over, and every noise had ceased but 
 the shouts of the butchers and the furious howls of 
 the mastiff. The slaughter was over, but not the 
 work. Scalps hung dripping at the warrior's belts, 
 or dangling upon poles. Pagan Indians sported with 
 English blood, — just as baptized English did with 
 Scotch blood, more than a hundred years after, on the 
 field of Culloden.* They mangled and quartered 
 their victims, and tore them piecemeal, and flung 
 their hearts, throbbing with lingering life, upon glow- 
 ing coals, and hung their heads on high for the car- 
 rion-birds, — all of which was only just as the minions 
 of George the Second did in Christian London, in the 
 seventeen hundred and forty-sixth year of Grace.f 
 Not a corpse was cold before it was draggled in frag- 
 ments across the field, or flung by bits from Indian to 
 Indian, as boys fling snow-balls in winter, or as fools 
 do sugar-plums in Carnival. The body of Mr. Thorpe, 
 their best friend, their unwearied benefactor, fared no 
 better, but was " abused with such spight and scorn 
 as is unfit to be heard or related." " Not hee hath 
 lost by it," says the chronicler whom we follow, " not 
 hee hath lost by it, who, to the comfort of vs all, hath 
 gayned a Crowne of endless blisse, and is assuredly 
 become a glorious Martyr, in which thrice-happy and 
 blessed state we leaue him." 
 
 * " The men [English soldiers] at length began to amuse themselves 
 by splashing and dabbling each other with blood." Chambers's History 
 of the Rebellion of 1 745 - 6, Chap. XXIV. Scots' Magazine, VIII. 1 92. 
 
 t Chambers, Chap. XXIX. Jessie's Memoirs of the Pretenders, II. 
 255, 256. 
 
292 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 At length the frantic orgies ceased. The Indians 
 retired to the woods with their trophies, and Berke- 
 ley Hundred, but just before full of happy life and 
 hardy industry, was left to Death and Silence. Even 
 the dog, exhausted by his own violence, and horror- 
 stricken by the scenes he had witnessed, lay whining, 
 and trembling, and alone. 
 
 But Berkeley Hundred was not the only field of 
 blood that day. Its tragedy was small compared 
 with what was enacted elsewhere. On no less than 
 thirty other plantations, at the same hour of high 
 noon, the same signal of attack was given by other 
 Indian parties, who had sauntered into the settle- 
 ments on the same pretences, and with the same 
 innocence of deportment. Their familiarity with the 
 English had long been such, that " they knew exactly 
 at what places and quarters every Englishman was to 
 be found " ; and they stationed themselves accord- 
 ingly, those in ambush patiently waiting for the sig- 
 nal from their fellows who had dispersed over the 
 plantations. At the same hour of high noon, through- 
 out all those scattered settlements, the same signal, 
 the same work of death ; and before that one hour 
 had expired, three hundred and forty-seven English — 
 in some places only two, in others a dozen, twenty, 
 fifty, at Martin's Hundred seventy-three — had fallen 
 victims, not only killed, but brained, beheaded, dis- 
 embowelled, hacked asunder, kicked piecemeal about 
 their fields, hung in fragments on the limbs of their 
 trees or the posts of their doors. Men, women, and 
 children were indiscriminately slaughtered and indis- 
 criminately outraged after death. Of these, eighty- 
 ge ven — as nearly as can be determined from the 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 293 
 
 lists given — were women and children, and six were 
 members of the Governor's Council. 
 
 The plot embraced every individual settlement in 
 Virginia; and there were eighty of them, scattered 
 along the James River for an extent of a hundred 
 and forty miles, and northward even as far as the Po- 
 tomac River. But the angel of mercy had interceded, 
 and an invisible line had been drawn, beyond which 
 the destroyers could not pass. In some few places, 
 the design had been detected just long enough to ad- 
 mit of defensive measures. In such cases, the attack 
 was either wholly prevented or but partially successful. 
 Such was their conviction of the advantages of Eng- 
 lish weapons, that the least sign of preparation, the 
 least show of resistance, was sufficient so to intimi- 
 date the Indians that they struck feebly or not at all. 
 Nathanael Causie, a veteran soldier who had served 
 under Captain Smith, though dreadfully wounded, 
 managed to brain one of a party who assailed him, 
 upon which the rest fled in consternation, and he 
 escaped. A Mr. Baldwin, his wounded wife lying 
 for dead at his feet, saved her life, his household, and 
 his house, by a single firelock, although surrounded 
 by scores of assailants. Two men who had retreated 
 to a house defended themselves successfully against 
 a party of sixty. On one plantation, the Indians had 
 slaughtered six men, wounded the remaining seventh, 
 and fired the house, when a boy, by one random dis- 
 charge of a gun, frightened them away, and saved the 
 lives of about twenty women and children. Even a 
 defence with only spades, axes, and brickbats was 
 sufficient to make the savages abandon an attack. 
 
 But to one incident chiefly were the survivors in- 
 
 25* 
 
294 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 debted for their salvation. There were two Indians, 
 brothers, who were habitually employed to hunt for 
 the English, one of whom was domesticated in the 
 family of Perry, the other in that of Pace. On the 
 night before the massacre, they lodged together in 
 Pace's house. One of them, whose name was 
 Chanco, was a Christian convert. During the night, 
 his brother revealed to Chanco the plan of attack for 
 the next day, at the same time telling him that it was 
 his duty as a subject of Opechancanough, by whose 
 command it was to be executed, to take part in the 
 tragedy, and ordering him in the chief's name to kill 
 Pace, while he himself should be gone to do the same 
 to Perry. The brother then departed upon his errand. 
 " A summons of such tenor was well calculated to 
 prevail with a savage mind ; but a new mind had 
 been given to this convert." Shocked at the atrocity 
 of the order, — for Pace was not only a fellow-man, 
 but had ever treated him with parental and Christian 
 kindness, — he left his bed immediately upon his 
 brother's departure, and disclosed the plot to Pace. 
 The latter, first fortifying his own house and with all 
 despatch, instantly rowed across the river, nearly three 
 miles, to Jamestown, and communicated his startling 
 intelligence to the Governor. Sir Francis took prompt 
 measures to alarm " such other plantations as was 
 possible for a timely intelligence to be given," and as 
 many as received the warning were consequently on 
 their guard. This was sufficient for their preserva- 
 tion. 
 
 But for this eleventh-hour discovery, the slaughter 
 would probably have been universal. " For euen," 
 says our chronicler, " in the deliuerie of vs that now 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 295 
 
 suruiue, no man's particular carefulnesse saued any 
 one person, but the meere goodnesse of God himselfe 
 freely and miraculously preserued whom it pleased 
 him. Such was the good fruit of an Infidell conuert- 
 ed to Christianity. Blessed be God for euer, whose 
 mercy endureth for euer; Blessed be God, whose 
 mercy is aboue his iustice, and farre aboue all his 
 workes : who wrought this deliuerance, whereby their 
 soules escaped, euen as a Bird out of the snare of the 
 Fowler." 
 
 During the four years succeeding the death of Pow- 
 hattan, Opechancanough had been devising this at- 
 tack upon the English settlements, preparing the 
 minds of his warriors for it, inflaming his people, and 
 drilling them to the habit of concerted movement 
 necessary to its execution. Having unbounded influ- 
 ence with them as a warrior and a counsellor, he easl- 
 ly imparted his own implacable and deadly hatred 
 of the foreigners. But though a man of intrepid 
 courage in his own rude mode of warfare, he felt his 
 inferiority to the English in respect to the weapons of 
 war, and would not suffer his burning hatred to get 
 the better of sound discretion. He therefore adopted 
 a policy of profound dissimulation ; and so absolutely 
 and perfectly, during all these years, did he repress 
 beneath the same mask the impatient rage of his war- 
 riors, that not a word had slipped, not a hint had been 
 dropped, not an unguarded look had occurred, to fore- 
 shadow the plot. The blow and the war-whoop were 
 its first tokens, and nine tenths of the victims knew 
 not the hand or the weapon which felled them. 
 
 The deportment of Opechancanough himself to- 
 
296 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 wards the English was uniformly affable and frank ; 
 and it is said that " he was often the equitable media- 
 tor in differences which arose between the English 
 and his countrymen." 
 
 The sad events of the 22d explained his " motions 
 of religion," and his behavior in regard to the death of 
 Nemattanow. The former were pretences assumed 
 as the most effectual means to lull all lingering suspi- 
 cions of his hostility, and to inspire an overweening 
 confidence. He was heartily glad of the death of 
 Nemattanow, both because his way was cleared of 
 one who might rival him in the reverence and affec- 
 tion of his people, and also because it afforded him an 
 opportunity further to quiet the apprehensions of the 
 English, and thus to strike the blow which he had so 
 long meditated. The Indians were enraged to the 
 last degree at the death of their favorite, and their 
 chief affected to share their wrath ; while nothing 
 could have been more opportune to his purpose of 
 extermination, than the quiet which he induced in 
 the minds of the English by seeming to subdue resent- 
 ment out of deference to them and a desire for peace. 
 If he could assure them, under such provocation, that 
 " the sky would fall before he should break peace," 
 what, they plausibly reasoned, had they to fear from 
 the enmity of Opechancanough ? Of this reasoning 
 he was aware. His warriors were ripe, his enemies 
 were asleep ; the time had come, and the blow was 
 struck. 
 
 Virginia was stunned. For more than three weeks 
 the people were " driven to their wits' end ere they 
 could resolve what to do." At length it was ordered 
 that they should be gathered within the limits of five 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 297 
 
 or six well-fortified places in the neighborhood of 
 Jamestown, which was accordingly done. Public en- 
 terprises were abandoned ; — the iron-works at Falling 
 Creek, where all had been murdered but a girl and a 
 boy ; the glass-works at Jamestown, designed partic- 
 ularly for the manufacture of beads for traffic ; and 
 the College. The people were crowded into a space 
 too narrow ; the fields under cultivation were insuffi- 
 cient for their wants ; a scarcity of food followed, 
 attended by much sickness ; and many of the colo- 
 nists hurriedly returned to England, or migrated to 
 the tract of country afterwards known as North Caro- 
 lina. The colonists soon numbered only twenty-five 
 hundred, and the cattle but one thousand. 
 
 As a commercial speculation, the Virginia enter- 
 prise was a failure. The visions of gold and pearls 
 and precious stones which had floated before the eyes 
 of the orignal members of the Company had proved 
 baseless. Even the returns of real merchandise had 
 been nothing in comparison with the moneys invest- 
 ed, the profit from tobacco itself, the only staple of 
 the country, having been forestalled by the arbitrary 
 impositions of the king. When, therefore, the news 
 of this fresh and bloody disaster was received, it pro- 
 duced a great sensation in England. Many of the 
 shareholders abandoned the enterprise, and sold their 
 shares for what they could. But though the hopes of 
 the speculators were crushed, the feelings of humanity 
 were roused. New shareholders, touched with sym- 
 pathy for their countrymen in the wilderness, readily 
 took the places of the sellers, and contributions were 
 raised to supply the necessities of the colony. One 
 nobleman gave sixty coats of mail; the city of Lon- 
 
298 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 don sent out a hundred settlers; and vessels were 
 promptly despatched with provisions and other stores. 
 Even the soul of King James was moved, although 
 he had been thorning the company for years. He 
 would furnish a quantity of arms from the Tower, 
 twenty barrels of gunpowder, and four hundred sol- 
 diers. It was a spasmodic effort at generosity, — too 
 ^reat for his heart. He failed under it. The arms, 
 indeed, he gave, — though historians say that they 
 were good for nothing; the powder he lent on the 
 Company's bond ; the soldiers never appeared. 
 
 Captain Smith, with the spirit of self-sacrifice for 
 which he was always distinguished, offered himself. 
 He did " intreat and moue " the Company " to use 
 him " ; offering to go in person to Virginia, and, " by 
 God's assistance, to force the savages to leave the 
 country, or bring them into such subjection that every 
 man should follow his business securely." He only 
 asked that the company would furnish him with a hun- 
 dred soldiers and the necessary supplies, waiving all 
 compensation save what " he himself could produce 
 from the proper labor of the savages." The Company 
 as a body did not act upon this proposition ; but indi- 
 vidual members told him that the charges would be too 
 great, and the treasury was empty ; but that he might 
 obtain leave, if he would give the Company half the 
 pillage ! " I would not give twenty pound for all the 
 pillage is to be got amongst the savages in twenty 
 years," is his indignant comment upon this overture. 
 Now, although the treasury was empty, yet the Com- 
 pany were even then proposing to raise a salary of 
 £ 20,000 per annum for a new and quixotic scheme ; * 
 
 * Smith, 153. 
 
THE CLOUDLESS THUNDERBOLT. 299 
 
 and besides, so niggardly a reply to Smith's noble offer 
 was utterly " at variance with the character of the 
 Company and its leaders, who were rather profuse in 
 their expenses for the good of the colony, than lying 
 upon the catch for little advantages and mean gains." 
 How, then, are the reply of individuals and the silence 
 of the Company to be accounted for? for the offer 
 " was published in their Court." When we consider 
 that the Company then was not what it was when 
 Smith was in its employ ; that it was largely imbued 
 with the elements of a high aristocracy; that lords 
 and earls and bishops were among its members ; that, 
 ever since this change, he had uniformly been treated 
 with neglect, and his services declined ; that it has 
 ever been an axiom in British Councils, "that high 
 capacity is only to be supposed or encouraged in per- 
 sons of rank," and also an axiom, u that offices of 
 emolument and posts of honor belong of right and 
 exclusively to the nobility," — we may perhaps dis- 
 cern the true reason. " Rather let three hundred and 
 forty-seven more throats be cut, than that honor ac- 
 crue so cheaply to a mere soldier of fortune ! " is not 
 always inconsistent with the pride or the conscience 
 of peerage. To this pride the commonalty of Eng- 
 land have always succumbed; never has the public 
 voice remonstrated against its exclusiveness, save in 
 Cromwell's day, until the year 1854. 
 
 Daring the summer following the massacre there 
 were no special disturbances between the colonists 
 and the natives. The English, refraining from hostili- 
 ties, and assuming rather the attitude of timidity, 
 sought " to lull the Indians into the better securitie," 
 the more easily to strike their prey. They made no 
 
300 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 movement "till their corne was ripe," when three 
 hundred of the best soldiers, under command of Sir 
 George Yeardley, suddenly attacked them at Nanse- 
 mond, and at Pamunkey, the principal residence of 
 Opechancanough. But little was accomplished, how- 
 ever, except the burning of wigwams, the seizure of 
 some corn, and the destruction of more ; for the In- 
 dians, well acquainted with the country, expert at sly 
 and noiseless movements in the woods, and nimble of 
 foot, readily evaded pursuers who were encumbered 
 with armor. In many instances, the destruction of 
 their corn and their huts was the work of the Indians 
 themselves. At Pamunkey, the English were duped 
 by specious promises and artful parleys, until the In- 
 dians had transported most of their corn into the 
 recesses of the forests. Some of the English were 
 wounded by ambuscades ; and they returned from 
 their foray " supposing that they slew two " Indians, 
 — a bootless and mortifying result. 
 
 Another course was now adopted. u The Indians 
 were invited from then* fastnesses by the hope of 
 peace, and the solemn assurances of safety and for- 
 giveness. Confiding in these, they returned to their 
 former habitations and avocations." By this strata- 
 gem the colonists effected a sanguinary vengeance, 
 " without regard to age, sex, or infancy." 
 
 In 1623 they organized several parties under dis- 
 tinct commands, who assaulted as many different 
 native settlements on the same day, the 23d of July, 
 " and slew great numbers." The Indians, greatly 
 reduced in number, disabled, and driven back into the 
 wilderness, abandoned to the English their fields and 
 villages on the James and York Rivers, 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE CHARTER ABROGATED. 
 
 King James was in very ill humor. He did 
 
 16^3 
 not like the Company. They traded in tobacco, 
 
 which, he said, " was only fit to regale the Devil after 
 
 dinner," and against which he had published a book, — 
 
 though he liked its revenue. Besides, the Company 
 
 had become democratic in the spirit and style of their 
 
 meetings for business, and upon these occasions said 
 
 things which did not agree with his notions of the 
 
 rights of kings, or with his exercise of "kingcraft." 
 
 They refused, sometimes, to do as he wanted them to 
 
 do ; they talked about their Charter, about their rights 
 
 under the Charter, about what were the rights of 
 
 Englishmen, and about what were not the rights of 
 
 kings. Rights ! What right had they to canvass 
 
 rights, — his rights, and their rights, and especially 
 
 rights under their Charter ? Charter, forsooth ! Where 
 
 did they get their Charter ? Was it not his gift of 
 
 grace ? To be sure it was ; and if he could give it, 
 
 he could take it again ! They were getting naughty, 
 
 troublesome ; were presuming to look their king in 
 
 the face, and even to gainsay him sometimes. Again : 
 
 they were ruling affairs on another continent, — a part 
 
 of his dominions, too, — and he chose to rule there 
 
 himself. So he would take away then' Charter, which 
 
 they swaggered about so much, and teach the fellows 
 
 26 
 
302 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 manners. If a charter made them great, he would 
 show them that no Charter would make them little, — 
 the upstarts ! 
 
 He went to work accordingly. But he always pre- 
 ferred a cunning, sneaking way of doing a thing, even 
 when an honest, open, manly way would do it better. 
 So he manoeuvred, and made men-tools to rake oat 
 his chestnuts with. We need not lay open the inter- 
 nal history of the Company, nor James's long course 
 of teasing tyranny towards them, nor his spiteful cru- 
 sade against tobacco, their only source of revenue.* 
 It is sufficient to say, that, while the king was resolved 
 upon the dissolution of the Company, and to take the 
 colony into his own hands, he wanted to do so with 
 some show of decency. He would proceed, therefore, 
 according to the forms of law. He could do so safely ; 
 for in those days judges of courts judged as was the 
 king's judgment. Thus he would gain his end, and 
 at the same time " impress the nation with an opinion 
 of his justice and integrity." At least so he thought, 
 although the nation were not so mole-eyed as he sup- 
 posed. But first he wanted to make it appear that 
 there was some great reason for proceedings against 
 the Company ; that they had managed affairs very 
 badly, — much against the welfare of his dear sub- 
 jects in Virginia. 
 
 To this end, he instigated flagrant charges against 
 the Company ; whether true or false was immaterial. 
 The result of this was easily foreseen. Two papers, 
 in particular, were presented to his Majesty, — the 
 one urging an examination of the state of things in 
 
 =* An elaborate history of these matters is given by Stith ; a more 
 compendious one, by Burk. 
 
THE CHARTER ABROGATED. 303 
 
 Virginia, the other describing frightful evils there 
 which could be remedied only "by a divine and 
 supreme hand," meaning, of course, the hand of 
 King James. Upon this, he had his Privy Council 
 appoint five Commissioners to examine Virginia it- 
 self, and, right or wrong, to bring back an evil report 
 of the land. Two of these, John Pory and John 
 Harvey, were sent from England ; one, John Jeffer- 
 son, took no part in the matter, being a hearty friend 
 to the Company ; and two, Samuel Matthews and 
 Abraham Percy, resided in Virginia. 
 
 In the beginning of the year 1624, Captain 
 Harvey and Mr. Pory arrived at Jamestown. 
 On the 26th of January, warrants were issued for a 
 General Assembly; not, however, at the suggestion 
 of the Commissioners. The people had been advised 
 of what had passed in England, and copies of the 
 papers presented to the king had been received. The 
 general purport of these papers was, that the colony, 
 for the most part, had flourished while Sir Thomas 
 Smith was the Company's manager, namely, until 
 1619, but had fallen into a wretched state since. 
 
 To these statements the Assembly gave their first 
 attention. They met on the 14th of February, and 
 on the 20th had drawn up their answers, addressed to 
 the king and to the Privy Council. Their motives 
 were, as stated in their own words, " that the world 
 might not be abused with false reports." In one of 
 these answers, they made the appalling statements 
 which we have cited on a previous page of our nar- 
 rative.* In reference to the royal intention of a change 
 
 * See Chapter XII. 
 
304 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 of government,, they took occasion also to address the 
 Privy Council in the bold and spirited language of 
 men resolute for political liberty. u We desire," they 
 said, " that the governors sent over may not have 
 absolute authority, but may be restrained to the con- 
 sent of the Council. We have found inconveniences 
 by the strict limitations of Governor and Council to 
 proceed according to their instructions out of Eng- 
 land ; for those things, in so far distance, might seem 
 good advice which might happen to prove very incon- 
 venient in execution ; neither is it fit that any main 
 project should be set on foot which had not first 
 
 approbation from hence Above all, we make 
 
 our humble request that we still retain the liberty of 
 our General Assemblies, than which nothing could 
 more conduce to the public satisfaction and public 
 utility." 
 
 In the drafting and passing of these petitions and 
 representations, Sir Francis Wyatt, the Governor, 
 was most strenuous, active, and cordial. " They 
 were carried in Assembly with the utmost unanim- 
 ity and despatch."* 
 
 The Commissioners artfully attempted to entice 
 the Assembly, and to make them play into the king's 
 hand ; but that body had too much spirit, intelli- 
 gence, and self-respect, to demean themselves as 
 tools in a quarrel between the king and the Com- 
 pany. The Commissioners were baffled, and beyond 
 measure chagrined ; although the Assembly gave 
 them every facility for obtaining true information 
 respecting the state of the colony. Further than 
 
 * See above, note, pp. 188, 189. 
 
THE CHARTER ABROGATED. 305 
 
 this, they received no attentions whatever. The 
 legislature proceeded to its ordinary business, " as 
 if no such persons as the Commissioners had ever 
 been in existence." 
 
 The laws passed at this session show how strongly 
 the Virginians, at that early day, were imbued with 
 the spirit of rational, constitutional liberty. Among 
 other things, they enacted " that the Governor should 
 not lay taxes, save by authority of the General As- 
 sembly, to be levied and employed as they should 
 appoint ; that he should not withdraw the inhabitants 
 from their own labors to his ; that, in case any public 
 emergency should require their services before the 
 Assembly could be convened, men should be levied 
 by order of the Governor and the whole body of the 
 Council, and in such a way as should be the least 
 burdensome." Thus did this excellent Governor, Sir 
 Francis Wyatt, and the Burgesses of Virginia, pro- 
 claim the fundamental principle of constitutional gov- 
 ernment, — the sacred right of the subject to his 
 property and to the liberty of his person ; the very 
 burden of that famous Petition of Right sanctioned 
 as law by Charles the First in 1628, amid the accla- 
 mations of the British Parliament, and to the universal 
 joy of the nation* 
 
 Other important laws — and these are the earliest 
 laws of Virginia now extant — were passed at this 
 session of the legislature. They chiefly related to the 
 church and its ministry, the administration of justice, 
 the raising of crops, and the protection of the planters 
 against the Indians. It was also ordered, that, " at 
 
 * Hume's History of England, Chap. II., Vol. III. p. 429, Philadelphia 
 edition, 1822. 
 
 26* 
 
306 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the beginning of July following, every corporation 
 should fall upon their adjoining Indians." 
 
 Yet there was one domestic evil, extensively pre- 
 vailing and seriously affecting the peace and happi- 
 ness of the community, with reference to which this 
 Assembly, with all their zeal for the public good, did 
 not legislate. This neglect is not easily to be ac- 
 counted for ; but certain it is, that they left for the 
 Governor to do that which, as fathers of the people, 
 they should have done themselves. There was in 
 the colony a tendency to matrimony. An attempt to 
 check it would have been neither politic nor avail- 
 able. Yet it certainly required the interference of 
 civil authority in some shape, it was producing such 
 melancholy consequences. 
 
 A young man, attracted by the lively features, the 
 rosy health, and the efficient housewifery of a young 
 maiden, woos her smiles and wins them. A second, 
 a third, a fourth even, are equally encouraged, and to 
 each in course she is pledged as a wife. Thus the 
 fair one appropriates to herself four times her fair pro- 
 portion of the mystic delights of courtship, while her 
 suitors, each unsuspicious of a rival, are building 
 castles in the air, and dreaming vain dreams about 
 children and children's children. Fancy their chagrin, 
 fancy their indignation, fancy their possible quarrels, 
 when the truth is discovered, — heretofore good neigh- 
 bors and warm friends, now inveterate rivals ! Each 
 has his claims, each has his darling plans for the 
 future, each has his honest and manly attachment 
 for the fair one and false, and neither is disposed 
 to yield. 
 
 Such, we regret to say, was the naughtiness of 
 
THE CHARTER ABROGATED. 307 
 
 Virginia maidens at the time of which we write. 
 So prevalent was the habit of coquetry, that no 
 bachelor could feel confident of becoming a married 
 man until the vows had been exchanged at the altar. 
 A bad state of society this ! Heartburnings, aliena- 
 tions, feuds, it certainly produced ; perhaps duels and 
 bloodshed, maiming and death. The women said it 
 was the fault of the men; they were so many, so 
 ardent, so importunate, and so determined, that they 
 would not be denied ; and that a " Yes " for every 
 wooer was the only means for the women to live in 
 " peace." In this there was doubtless some truth. 
 On the other hand, the men, to justify the ardor 
 and pertinacity of their courtship, pleaded the great 
 scarcity of women, — a fact which none could dis- 
 pute. Sir Francis Wyatt said "that the fault was 
 in the women, that their behavior was a crying sin," 
 (to be sure it was !) " that it must be stopped. He 
 would not have the men trifled with so." And as 
 there was no Sir Edwin Sandys now in power in 
 England to import "virgins young and uncorrupt,"* 
 Sir Francis resorted to the only other means of re- 
 forming the bad manners of the women. He issued 
 a proclamation forbidding any one to contract herself 
 
 * I find no trace of young women being sent over "to make wives " 
 after the year 1620, until 1632, under which date is the following by 
 Burk (II. 36) : "It appears by a regulation of the Council, tbat this in- 
 teresting object of trade was yet continued. The seeming want of deli- 
 cacy in this procedure, which sprang from necessity alone, is qualified 
 by the nice and pointed attention paid to the chastity and reputation of 
 their wives before, and their delicate and liberal deportment to them 
 after marriage. By an Order of Council of this year, two maids, each of 
 whom had made a, faux pas during the passage, were ordered to be sent 
 back, as unworthy to propagate the race of Virginians." 
 
308 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 to more than one man at once. He ordained that 
 " what woman soever should use any word or speech 
 tending to a contract of marriage to two several per- 
 sons at the same time, although not precise and legal, 
 yet so as might entangle or breed scruple in their con- 
 sciences, should, for such her offence, either undergo 
 corporal correction, or be punished by fine, or other- 
 wise, according to the quality of the person so offend- 
 ing." This last clause indicates that the offence was 
 not limited to a class. It is to be hoped that the evil 
 habit of these early brides of Virginia was so season- 
 ably corrected as to prevent its hereditary transmis- 
 sion. Doubtless it was. 
 
 The Commissioners returned to England soured in 
 their feelings toward the Virginian Assembly, and 
 irritated by their failure to involve that body in the 
 schemes of the king. Their report to James was 
 framed according to his wishes. Thereupon, in July, 
 he suspended the action of the Company by procla- 
 mation, pushed the legal inquiry into its conduct and 
 pretensions, and the Court of the King's Bench gave 
 judgment that the Charter was forfeited. Thus the 
 Company was arbitrarily and violently dissolved, and 
 the government of Virginia reverted to the crown. 
 
 No compensation was made to the shareholders for 
 their large and generous expenditures, which had been 
 equivalent to nearly seven hundred thousand dollars. 
 Thus the crown of England acquired an established 
 and thriving colony cheap ! It was the greatest finan- 
 cial operation of the king. He survived it only eight 
 months ; and when he was laid in his tomb, no one 
 wept. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ANNALS. 
 
 No plan of government for Virginia was de- 
 
 1 r*0/i 
 termined upon by the king when the Company 
 
 was dissolved. He would frame one in his closet, he 
 said. But death interfered before he had matured it. 
 He had, however, issued a royal commission to Sir 
 Francis Wyatt as Governor, and had appointed eleven 
 gentlemen as his Council, or assistants, to administer 
 the government of the colony until he should have 
 perfected a permanent arrangement for the future. 
 The colonists had petitioned his Majesty on three 
 several points, one of which was " that the use of 
 Assemblies might be continued " ; but to this prayer 
 the king paid no attention. The fact that in the com- 
 mission to Wyatt " all mention of Assemblies was 
 omitted," does by no means indicate then* suppres- 
 sion. The subject was simply untouched by James. 
 
 Upon the accession of Charles to the throne, 
 he adopted the same arrangement for the col- 
 ony which James had left, expressly declaring, how- 
 ever, that it was only an arrangement for the time 
 being, until he could decide upon a permanent one. 
 In his commission for this purpose, he also made no 
 mention of an Assembly. 
 
 In the next year, Wyatt leaving Virginia 
 to attend to his estate at home, Sir George A 
 
310 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Yeardley succeeded him as Governor. By Ids com- 
 mission, dated in 1625, the powers of the Governor 
 were expressly limited, " as for the five last years pre- 
 ceding " ; during which precise years the executive 
 had been limited by an Assembly.* 
 
 In 1627, King Charles, in a letter to the 
 Governor and Council, proposed to become 
 the purchaser, at certain rates, of the colony's entire 
 crop of tobacco, and in the same paper desired the 
 calling of an Assembly to take into consideration his 
 proposal, and directed that the result of their delibera- 
 tions should be forwarded to him. This was " an 
 express acknowledgment of the right of Virginia to 
 legislate for herself, and even an order to her to ex- 
 ercise it." 
 
 In November or December Yeardley died, exceed- 
 ingly lamented by the people whose interests he had 
 assiduously cherished. It was he who had first called 
 upon the Virginians to legislate for themselves, and 
 they honored and loved him accordingly. The Coun- 
 
 * Respecting the uninterrupted continuance of Assemblies in Vir- 
 ginia, historians disagree. Most writers assert that they were not sus- 
 pended upon the dissolution of the Company. Campbell avers that they 
 were ; appeals to Chalmers and Hening, and rejects the emphatic state- 
 ments of Beverly and Burk. The latter refers for proof to a document 
 in his Appendix ; but, as Campbell says, " it is not found there." But 
 Burk would not have appealed to a phantom. Nor is it to be lightly 
 supposed that so careful a writer could have asserted the uninterrupted 
 course of Assemblies so strongly, so positively, and yet erroneously. 
 Add to this, that, in the very next year (1627), Charles himself requested 
 the calling of an Assembly, and in a way which presupposed that body 
 to be necessary to the regular action of the colonial government. Most 
 historians state that the words " for the last five years preceding," limit- 
 ing the executive by an Assembly, were contained in King James's 
 commission to JVyatt. I trustfully follow Burk. His language on pp. 
 10, 14, 15, is very strong, decided, and explicit. 
 
ANNALS. 311 
 
 cil, upon whom devolved the right and duty, imme- 
 diately supplied his place by the election of Francis 
 West. This year, one thousand settlers arrived from 
 England. 
 
 West left for England on the 5th of March, 
 1628,* and John Potts was elected Governor 1628# 
 by the Council. The Assembly convened on the 
 20th of March drafted an answer to the king, re- 
 spectfully, but decidedly, declining his proposal. f 
 
 Potts continued in office until the close of 
 the year 1629, when he was superseded, by 
 Sir John Harvey, bearing the authority of a royal 
 commission. He had been one of the Commission- 
 ers of Investigation appointed by King James to visit 
 and malign Virginia in 1624. He now returned with 
 a rankling remembrance of the mortification which 
 he had then encountered, when vainly attempting to 
 tamper with the Assembly. 
 
 He hated Assemblies, and it was the aim of 
 his policy to bring them into disuse. Yet he 
 convened his first on the 24th of March, 1630. He 
 commenced his administration by proclamation-law, 
 which he permitted the House only to ratify by their 
 act of record, thus absorbing the legislation in him- 
 self and his Council. In this way he levied the reve- 
 nue, and in this way, for innumerable petty offences, 
 
 * Hening, as quoted by Campbell, 54. 
 
 f Burk, II. 24. Campbell and Bancroft assign this Assembly to 
 1629. Campbell says that their answer to the king was signed by Francis 
 West, Governor ; and yet adds, on the authority of Hening, that Potts 
 was elected March 5th, 1628, — a year before (according to him) the let- 
 ter was drafted, and a year after West had retired from office and from 
 Virginia. Burk, in fixing the meeting of the Assembly in 1628, and 
 under the administration of Potts, is at least consistent with himself. 
 
312 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 he imposed arbitrary fines, which were appropriated 
 to his personal use. This course was at first sec- 
 onded by the Council, who were soon, however, like 
 the Burgesses, reduced to the .condition of puppets. 
 Both bodies were probably led, for a while, to submit 
 in silence, from an unwillingness to be found in col- 
 lision with the representative of their king. But soon 
 the exactions, the inhumanity, and the insolence of 
 the Governor became intolerable. The people be- 
 came indignant, clamorous, and even inclined to open 
 resistance. The Council now sympathized with the 
 people. The Assembly which was convened 
 in February, 1631, boldly exercised their rights. 
 After remaining quiet until the month of March, they 
 passed a law forbidding the levying of any tax with- 
 out the consent of the Assembly ; and they also en- 
 acted "that the Governor should in future have no 
 power to enforce the services of the colonists for his 
 private benefit, or to levy them for war, without the 
 consent of the Council." Both these acts seem to have 
 been only re-enactments of the laws of 1624 on the 
 same points. The acts of all former Assemblies, this 
 Assembly repealed ; hence, doubtless, the passage of 
 these acts at this time. The Governor found it vain 
 to contend with the sturdy spirit which he had roused, 
 and the acts received his official approval. 
 
 About this time the king issued to his favorites 
 grants of land, which lay within the geographical 
 limits of Virginia. A particular notice of these grants 
 belongs more appropriately to the histories of Mary- 
 land and Carolina. It is sufficient here to say, that 
 they were resented by the Virginians as encroach- 
 ments upon their rights ; that Governor Harvey sec- 
 
ANNALS. 313 
 
 onded the course of the sovereign, and that he even 
 gave away, in conjunction with certain royal commis- 
 sioners, not only large tracts of the land belonging (ac- 
 cording to the ethics of the day) to the crown, but oth- 
 ers, belonging to private planters. Thus matters 
 went on until April and May, 1635, when the 
 Council peremptorily deposed Harvey from office, 
 " until the king's pleasure should be known " ; and 
 the Assembly, in compliance with a petition from the 
 planters, collected evidence of the charges against him, 
 to be presented to the king by a deputation from their 
 own body. These charges were " haughtiness, rapa- 
 city, and cruelty, contempt of the rights of the colo- 
 nists, and usurpation of the privileges of the Council." 
 He was sent to England with the delegates of the 
 Assembly, that his case might be presented to the 
 king. Charles, viewing the deposition of a royal 
 governor in the light of a treasonable act, was highly 
 incensed, refused audience to the delegates, and im- 
 mediately ordered the return of Harvey, and his re- 
 installation in office. He resumed his station 
 in January, 1636, and held it until displaced 
 by Sir Francis Wyatt, in November, 1639. By a 
 law of this year (1639), "Jamestown was fixed upon 
 as the permanent seat of government." Wyatt gave 
 place to Sir William Berkeley, who arrived with the 
 king's commission, and assumed the govern- 
 ment in February, 1642. Upon the return of 
 Harvey to Virginia, and by virtue of his new com- 
 mission, the Council had been denied the right to 
 fill their own vacancies. The crown had reserved it 
 to itself. But under the commission to Berkeley, 
 
 27 
 
314 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the king waived this right, and restored it to the 
 Council. 
 
 In March, Sir William convoked the Assembly. 
 He had been educated at Oxford, where he had taken 
 the degree of Master of Arts in 1629. He had then 
 travelled extensively in Europe, and was " the perfect 
 model of an elegant courtier and a high-minded cava- 
 lier." He was remarkable for his high sense of honor, 
 and for his urbanity in the common intercourse of 
 life, and seems to have been, at least at this time, a 
 generous and warm-hearted man. With these quali- 
 ties and accomplishments, he rendered himself at once 
 personally acceptable to the Virginians ; and, although 
 he was a stanch royalist, and largely imbued with the 
 spirit and political sentiments of his sovereign, yet his 
 administration was mild, and " he cordially co-operat- 
 ed with the Council and the House of Burgesses in 
 measures calculated to secure the liberties of the colo- 
 ny." Under these circumstances, there was harmony 
 between the Governor and the Assembly; and the 
 colonists, enjoying general prosperity, were content. 
 
 An event now occurred of no small political impor- 
 tance. George Sandys had been sent to England as 
 an agent for the colony, "with particular instructions 
 to oppose the re-establishment of the Company " ; a 
 project, it seems, for which several attempts had been 
 made in England.* Betraying his trust, Sandys had 
 presented to the House of Commons, and in the name 
 of his constituents, a petition for the restoration of 
 
 * For the particulars of this transaction, I rely upon a tract entitled 
 "An Extract from a Manuscript Collection of Annals relating to Vir- 
 ginia," in Force, Vol. III. 
 
ANNALS. 315 
 
 the Company. So soon as this was known in Vir- 
 ginia, the Assembly acted upon it with spirit and de- 
 cision. Although the people had been averse to the 
 dissolution of the Company, yet they had since en- 
 joyed, for the most part, so great tranquillity and pros- 
 perity, and were so secure in their rights as freemen, 
 that they were yet more averse to any further change. 
 The Assembly immediately passed an act disavowing 
 the proceeding of Sandys. In their protest, they in- 
 veighed severely, and, if we consider only their con- 
 dition under the Company from 1619 to 1624, singu- 
 larly ; though truthfully enough, if the whole term of 
 the Company's existence be considered. They posi- 
 tively refused to submit to that Company, " or to any 
 other " ; and gave at large and earnestly their rea- 
 sons for this refusal. But not content with this, they 
 proceeded further, and issued their solemn declaration 
 and protestation against the measure suggested. 
 
 " We, the Governor, Council, and Burgesses, 
 
 having taken into serious consideration, &c, do 
 
 declare and testify to all the world, that we will 
 never admit the restoring of said Company, or any 
 
 for and in their behalf. And we do further en- 
 
 act > that what person or persons soever either 
 
 is or shall hereafter go about to sue 
 
 for, advise, assist, abet, countenance, or contrive the 
 reducing this colony to a company or corporation, 
 
 shall be held and deemed an enemy to the 
 
 colony, and shall forfeit his or their whole estate or 
 estates that shall be found within the limits of the 
 colony." 
 
 The act was passed April 1st, 1642, was signed by 
 the Governor, the members of the Council and of the 
 
316 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 House of Burgesses ; and they immediately applied 
 to the king for his confirmation of it. 
 
 This transaction was not only highly important and 
 interesting, as marking the noble and determined spirit 
 with which the Virginians met any attempt to inter- 
 fere with their civil privileges, but as the cause of a 
 most important act on the part of the crown. The 
 Declaration, Protestation, and Act of the Assembly 
 were returned with the royal assent. "We give the 
 letter of the king in substance. 
 
 u Charles, Rex. 
 
 " Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well. 
 
 Whereas we have received a Petition from you, 
 
 with a Declaration and Protestation against, &c, 
 
 and against all such as shall go about to alienate you 
 
 from our immediate protection These are to 
 
 signify, that your acknowledgment of our grace, 
 bounty, and favor towards you, and your so earnest 
 desire to continue under our immediate protection, is 
 very acceptable to us ; and that, as we had not before 
 the least intention to consent to the introduction of 
 any company over that our colony, so we are by it 
 much confirmed in our resolution, as thinking it unfit 
 
 to change a form of government wherein our 
 
 subjects there receive so much contentment 
 
 and satisfaction. And this our approbation of your 
 Petition and Protestation we have thought fit to 
 transmit to you, under our Royal Signet. 
 
 " Given at our Court at York, the 5th of July, 
 1642." 
 
 The royal missive was directed, " To our trusty and 
 
ANNALS. 317 
 
 well-beloved, our Governor, Council, and Burgesses 
 
 of the Grand Assembly of Virginia." 
 
 Thus the popular form of government in Virginia 
 
 received the royal acknowledgment and sanction ; 
 
 and " the constitution of the colony was established 
 
 on a foundation which could not be altered without 
 
 their own consent." 
 
 - 
 
 27* 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE. 
 
 The natives had never abated their hatred or 
 abandoned their hostilities toward the usurp- 
 ers of their soil. The white men had no sooner begun 
 again to expand their settlements after the slaughter 
 of 1622, than they were compelled to be constantly on 
 the alert against their subtle and untiring foes. 
 
 In 1624, even the apathy of Itopatin was laid aside. 
 Near the close of the year, he had led his subjects in 
 person against the English, and displayed a degree of 
 courage and valor which gained him no small consid- 
 eration in the eyes of his warriors. Sir Francis "Wyatt 
 had advanced into the territory of the Pamunkeys at 
 the head of a picked corps, who were inured to fa- 
 tigue, familiar with the localities, and acquainted with 
 Indian warfare. Against this force, Itopatin opposed 
 himself. He seems to have adopted an organized 
 plan of battle, and to have met his enemy in regular 
 and open array. Eight hundred Pamunkeys formed 
 his main body. His wings — of whose numerical 
 force we have no information — were composed of 
 warriors from other tribes. The result of the battle 
 — of its incidents we are ignorant — was the discom- 
 fiture of the Indians, who left behind them " a num- 
 ber" of their own dead, and several wounded Eng- 
 lishmen. Yet the conflict was by no means decisive, 
 
319 
 
 and probably it displayed a strength and spirit on the 
 part of the Indians which the English did not wish 
 further to provoke. The latter had aimed to proceed 
 four miles beyond the field of conflict, where was the 
 chief depot of the Indians, and where, after the en- 
 gagement, they had rallied. But Sir Francis, for 
 some reason, — possibly " the want of ammunition," 
 — saw fit to retire. Of Itopatin — or Opitchapan, as 
 he is usually called — we have no further account. 
 
 Still hostilities were not suspended. The colonists 
 had laid waste by fire a belt of land along their fron- 
 tier settlements ; thus destroying the luxuriant grass, 
 the thick undergrowth, and the gigantic trees, under 
 cover of which the Indians had been wont to creep 
 unseen, and thence, like the tiger, to pounce upon 
 their prey. But even this precaution had availed 
 little. The savage, burning with mortal hatred, would 
 patiently bear hunger, and watching, and exposure, 
 and any discomfort, to secure from the plantations a 
 single scalp. Many sudden irruptions had been made 
 upon the settlements in days when the inhabitants 
 were off their guard, or in nights when darkness and 
 rushing rain combined to conceal approach. In this 
 fitful and stealthy way the savages had conducted their 
 warfare, plundering the plantations of corn and cattle, 
 butchering men, taking captive women and children, 
 and then suddenly disappearing, without a trace of 
 their retreat, into the depths of the wilderness. So 
 vigilant, so untiring, so stealthy was their system, that 
 the English, unless in strong parties, had not dared to 
 move where it was possible for an Indian to lurk. 
 Not only had the enemy assailed the more exposed 
 plantations, but had taken scalps and captives and 
 plunder, had ravaged cornfields and burned houses, in 
 
320 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the more central parts of the colony. Thus matters 
 had continued between the natives and the English 
 until February, 1632, when the Chickahominies and 
 the Pamunkeys, after a furious and destructive attack 
 upon the whites, agreed upon a treaty of peace. It 
 was a treaty, however, in which little confidence was 
 placed. Though the plantations had steadily in- 
 creased, and been pushed farther and farther into the 
 wilds, still the colonists were apprehensive of attack, 
 and many acts both for offence and defence had passed 
 the Assembly. For the greater security of the people 
 against treachery and surprise, all intercourse with the 
 Indians had been peremptorily forbidden by law, ex- 
 cept at particular stations upon the frontiers, and even 
 there only for purposes of traffic. The thirty tribes 
 composing the confederation, or empire, — " all broth- 
 ers and all Powhattans," — had, step by step, been 
 pushed back from the sea to the falls of the rivers, — 
 from the falls to their sources. In the dark places of 
 their retreat, they still brooded over their wrongs, and 
 plotted revenge. 
 
 On a gentle swell of land near the sources of the 
 York or Pamunkey River was now the residence of 
 the aged Opechancanough. Scattered here and there, 
 over perhaps an acre of ground, were some twenty 
 or thirty wigwams, of the conical shape such as were 
 the usual dwellings of the common people. Inter- 
 spersed among these were a few gigantic trees covered 
 with the fresh foliage of spring, — it was the 17th day 
 of April, 1644.* Around this group of huts was an 
 
 * The date of these events is determined by Winthrop, II. 165, and 
 Hening, I. 450. 
 
THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE. 321 
 
 area of sixty acres or more under tillage, on which 
 many trees were still standing, but bald and barkless, 
 and about the roots blackened by fire, or girdled with 
 wounds by the hatchet. These, together with the im- 
 perfect manner in which the soil was broken up, indi- 
 cated that the settlement was comparatively new. A 
 number of Indian women and children were engaged, 
 in different spots and companies, in beating up the 
 ground with crooked sticks, — a few, with English 
 hoes, — in planting corn, or in weeding that which 
 had already begun to grow. In the centre of the vil- 
 lage, and enclosing four or five venerable oaks, were 
 three large circles of palisades, ten or twelve feet in 
 height, one within another, and with intermediate 
 spaces of five or six feet. Within this simple fortifi- 
 cation were the dwellings of the chief and his im- 
 mediate attendants. These structures were of the 
 better sort, — of an oblong area, their roofs forming 
 an arch, and varying from sixty to a hundred feet in 
 length. The largest was that of the chief himself, 
 who was supposed to be now about a hundred years 
 of age. It was at once his private dwelling and his 
 council-hall. 
 
 This was a day of convocation. Ranged around 
 the walls was a concourse of sturdy chiefs and war- 
 riors equipped for the war-path. The younger men 
 were placed behind the elder, and were distinguished 
 for the artificial hideousness of their appearance. One 
 of the ancients had just finished a stirring address 
 to the assembly, and had taken his seat. For a few 
 moments a deathlike silence indicated the impression 
 he had made. The young men grasped their weap- 
 ons, and panted with impatience. The old men, sul- 
 len and stern, bent their eyes upon the groundt 
 
322 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " Uttomatin has spoken well," muttered Opechan- 
 canough from the couch on which he lay. " The 
 hunter has half done his work when he has set his 
 snares. Our snares are set. Our warriors are at their 
 posts. The time has come." 
 
 Then, raising himself from his couch, and dropping 
 his mantle, he stood up, leaning upon the arms of 
 two attendants ; and every warrior also rose, from 
 instinctive reverence for their patriarch king. They 
 waited in profound silence for his words. It was 
 an impressive scene. The large and noble frame of 
 Opechancanough had become bowed, emaciated, and 
 shrivelled; but he stood as kingly and as stern in 
 purpose as when in the vigor of his days, and the 
 thin, whitened scalp-lock, which drooped to his shoul- 
 der, seemed a symbol of his many changes and many 
 griefs. The muscles of his face were working strong- 
 ly under the influence of his emotions, and every one 
 around him caught their inspiration ; but his own 
 eyes were closed. After a moment's pause, he said : 
 " Opechancanough would see his friends." 
 
 The two chiefs who supported him, each gray with 
 age, gently, and as if touching something holy, took 
 hold of his palsied eyelids, and unveiled his sight. 
 The fire of life had abated in his veins ; the nerve of 
 his youth and the iron vigor of his manhood were 
 gone for ever ; but from that old man's eye shot 
 forth a fire and a vigor of purpose which told of 
 a spirit within unrivalled by the most impetuous in 
 his presence. 
 
 "Brothers! warriors! children! listen. You go to 
 revenge the wrongs and the blood of your fathers. 
 Their spirits look down upon you. They will laugh 
 when the blood of their murderers flows. 
 
323 
 
 li Children ! listen. We are far from the hunting- 
 grounds, and the good fields, and the pleasant rivers, 
 and the graves, of our fathers. We left them for new 
 homes, and from the new homes we are driven.* We 
 are going toward the setting sun. 
 
 " Children ! listen. The king of the pale-faces is 
 beyond the great waters. He is in trouble. His 
 children around his council-fires have dug up the 
 hatchet. They have broken the pipe of peace. They 
 fight against their father. The white men over the 
 water cannot take care of their brothers here. They 
 cannot send food, or warriors, or guns. And the 
 white men here do not live like brothers. They 
 fight.f If we fight them while they fight one an- 
 other, we shall kill many ; we can kill their cattle ; 
 we can root up their corn. Then those whom we do 
 not kill will starve, for they can get no corn from 
 their king. J Children ! the time has come. 
 
 " Children ! listen. The English keep us from 
 their houses. We cannot spread over their lands as 
 we did when we revenged Nemattanow. We can- 
 not strike among them all at once. We must first 
 slay the nearest, and then carry the tomahawk down 
 the rivers to their houses by the sea. In this way we 
 must fight this time. Our warriors are all placed. 
 
 * An allusion to the evictions of the Indians under the grants issued 
 hy Harvey. " They resented the encroachments made upon them by 
 his grants." Beverly, 49. 
 
 t "They were encouraged by signs of discord among the English, 
 having seen a fight in James River between a London ship for the Par- 
 liament and a Bristol ship for the king." Hildreth's United States, 
 I. 340. * 
 
 t See "Perfect Description of Virginia/' (printed 1649,) in Force, 
 Vol. II. 
 
324 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Each werowance knows where to lead his braves. 
 Children ! the time has come. 
 
 u Children ! Opechancanough goes with you. Pa- 
 munkeys, Chickahominies, Paspaheys, Warrasqueakes, 
 Mataponies, will follow Opechancanough. The others 
 will follow their own chiefs to other places. All things 
 are arranged and ready. 
 
 " Children ! the time has come. You will avenge 
 the blood of your fathers. Opechancanough will di- 
 rect your fight. The spirit of Powhattan and the 
 spirit of Nemattanow will see you. 
 
 " Let the runners now be sent. 
 
 " Children ! remember what Opechancanough has 
 said. He has done." 
 
 The venerable chief, releasing the veterans who 
 held his eyelids, gathered his mantle around him, and 
 sank upon his seat. 
 
 Instead of the acclamations and frantic pantomimes 
 with which such addresses were usually received, the 
 only sign of approval given was a low but portentous 
 murmur, so profound was the impression upon all, 
 that the expedition on foot was one of no common 
 moment, that the fate of their nation was at stake. 
 Most of the warriors immediately retired, and sped to 
 their several stations. A few, grizzled and scarred, 
 lingered for a short time to press the hand of their 
 aged chief, or to receive its sign of blessing as they 
 knelt reverently at his feet. Opechancanough was 
 soon left with only his customary attendants. 
 
 Soon after midnight on the morning of the 18th, 
 Opechancanough left his dwelling under escort of a 
 small band of warriors, who were to act at different 
 points as his lieutenants, and whom he had selected 
 
THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE. 325 
 
 for their personal valor, their cool judgment, and their 
 capacity for military co-operation. His infirmities of 
 limb, as well as the falling of his eyelids, prevented 
 him from proceeding on foot. A litter was therefore 
 prepared for him, upon which his devoted followers, 
 emulous of the service, transported him from place to 
 place as he directed. The localities of the country 
 over which he had roamed again and again for nearly 
 a century * were traced so clearly upon his mind, that 
 his orders were unembarrassed by the veil which over- 
 hung his vision ; and that his mental capacity for war 
 was unimpaired by age is evident in the plan on 
 which he acted, and in the concert which he sustained 
 between the distant parties of his expedition. 
 
 The escort, with their venerable burden, threaded 
 their way in silence and with perfect ease through the 
 wilds. The double curtain of forest-shade and night 
 was no hinderance to their certain, and even rapid 
 motion. The litter was borne by four sturdy men, ex- 
 cept when, in crossing the rocky bed of some stream, 
 or in clambering along some rough and steep hill- 
 side, a temporary addition of strength seemed neces- 
 
 * The tradition that his birthplace was in the far Southwest — Mexico 
 or its vicinity — is too vague for reliance. The same whim, or super- 
 stitious fancy, which prompted the Indians to designate their dignitaries 
 by assumed names — for Powhattan, Opechancanough, Pocahontas, &e. 
 were only names for English ears — may have suggested the mystery 
 concerning the origin of this renowned and formidable chief. That he 
 was styled the brother of Powhattan did not, to be sure, necessarily im- 
 ply that he was Virginian born. On this point, see JefTcrsoirs Notes. 
 But his being acknowledged by Powhattan as the second in regular suc- 
 cession to himself, taken in connection with the Indian law of succession 
 as stated by Beverly (p. 163), seems to prove that they were "brothers 
 by the same mother," notwithstanding the fact that the chiefs of the na- 
 tives were sometimes made such by election. 
 ?9 
 
326 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 sary to safety. It might have been an hour, or a 
 little more, before one from an unwooded position 
 there could have discerned the first streak of day, 
 when the patriarch chief and his attendants entered 
 upon what seemed a natural opening of the forest. 
 Hardly had the tramp of the party ceased, as the litter 
 was placed upon the turf, when the soft tread of the 
 moccason was heard by their practised ears, and one 
 by one came warriors from the surrounding covert, 
 until hundreds stood around their king. The star- 
 light in the open space was sufficient to reveal the 
 wild ferocity of their aspect ; yet even that was soft- 
 ened for the moment when they bent eagerly for- 
 ward to discern, as each one might be able, the 
 reclining form before them. The attitude, the sup- 
 pressed breathing, the hushed movement of the crowd, 
 betokened the filial affection, and even religious awe, 
 of every warrior. So predominant were these senti- 
 ments, and so completely had they chastened the fero- 
 cious expression of their features, that they seemed 
 just then less like banditti, gathered for a great and 
 pitiless slaughter, than like brothers who had come 
 there to see a venerated father, or like worshippers 
 who had met at a common altar. 
 
 The halt was brief. Opechancanough, half raising 
 himself upon his litter, made a few brief inquiries, 
 and gave order for immediate and rapid march. In- 
 stantly separating into twenty or thirty parties, the 
 whole band departed in as many different directions ; 
 the chief, with his former attendants only, pursuing a 
 trail by themselves. Half an hour afterwards, they 
 emerged from the woods, and again halted upon the 
 skirts of a plantation. But a few minutes elapsed 
 
327 
 
 when other parties arrived, and soon the chief was 
 surrounded by a much larger assemblage than he had 
 before met in the g]ade of the forest. A few rapid 
 and nervous orders from his lips, and a few stinging 
 allusions to the rapacious piracy of the white man 
 and to the bitter wrongs of the Indian, were enough. 
 The warriors noiselessly dispersed, and with them the 
 chosen ones who had thus far been the attendants of 
 their chief, — others, though burning to share in the 
 work of death, content with the honor of watching by 
 his side. 
 
 The few clouds which had been drifting overhead 
 were gone, and a clearer light was shed over the 
 peaceful landscape. At a short distance lay the rude 
 farm-house of a pioneer planter, with its cluster of 
 out-buildings around it ; and, what was unusual 
 except upon the frontier, two or three others could 
 be faintly seen within the compass of half a mile. 
 So close a neighborhood was for the purpose of 
 mutual protection. 
 
 " Children ! " said Opechancanough, and rising to 
 his feet, " let me see the work of my braves." 
 
 His eyelids were immediately held up. He turned 
 his head slowly towards the east, and saw the first 
 tint of morning. Then, looking steadfastly upon the 
 cottages of his foes, he murmured, " Wahunsonacock ! 
 Wahunsonacock ! " * 
 
 Not ten minutes more had elapsed, when a slight 
 flash was seen by the side of the nearest dwelling. 
 The watchful and excited chief clasped his withered 
 
 * The Indian and true name of Powhattan. Drake's Indian Biog- 
 raphy, p. 3-17. 
 
328 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 hands, and exclaimed, in a tone of nervous solemnity, 
 " The time has come ! " 
 
 The blaze spread. Other lights were now seen at 
 the other and more distant houses, and soon they too 
 began to blaze and spread. Very soon, for the walls 
 of the dwellings were very dry, the fire ran up to the 
 several roofs, and their thatch, combustible as tinder, 
 was in a blaze. Now for the first time there was 
 noise, — a shriek ; then the dreadful war-whoop, an- 
 swered from the more distant houses, and also from 
 some invisible scene of slaughter eastward within the 
 forest. Then came the yells and curses of mortal 
 strife ; then a shout ; and there in the firelight were 
 seen two forms struggling, life for life ; and then 
 came another rushing forward, a white garment flut- 
 tering about it, and long hair streaming in the wind, 
 and it threw itself upon the two fighting ones as if it 
 had been a Fury ; and the three fell and rolled to- 
 gether upon the ground. There was a struggle, a 
 death-scream, and then in the glare of the fire the 
 tawny victor was seen astride his victims, and fran- 
 tically waving aloft their dripping scalps. Like 
 sounds of strife and death came also from beyond, 
 but the eye of the chief could see there only the con- 
 flagration ; and at the eastward, and at two or three 
 points southward, the tree-tops were lighted by un- 
 seen fires, whose smoke was going up to heaven, a 
 testimony of the wrath of man. And now came the 
 cry of swine, the bleating of sheep, the death-bellow 
 of cattle, and then came — silence. 
 
 Two, — three, — four, — half a dozen runners, one 
 after another, now dashed breathless into the presence 
 of the chief, reeking with blood and singed with fire. 
 
329 
 
 Each stood silent and motionless until questioned ; 
 received a quick, short order in reply to his message ; 
 and darted away again whence he came. The morn- 
 ing had now fairly broken. The eastern sky was 
 flooded with light. Opechancanough, taking a last 
 look of satisfaction at the smouldering ruins before 
 him, reclined upon his litter again, gave directions to 
 his attendants, and was carried away to superintend 
 other scenes of havoc, and to keep up his communica- 
 tions with his chiefs. 
 
 Thus resolutely and with untiring industry did this 
 aged warrior direct the work which he could not 
 share along the tributary streams of the Pamunkey, 
 laying the border settlements in ashes, and strewing 
 them with corpses. To each of the bands und»r his 
 immediate direction he assigned their several routes. 
 He also, according to circumstances, checked or urged 
 their progress, knowing all the time where each was 
 in operation. He himself moved in concert with 
 them, and to stations convenient for communication 
 with all. Thus the work of carnage and of burning 
 went on through the day, through the night, through 
 the next day and the next night, the resolute chief- 
 tain hardly allowing a moment's repose to himself or 
 to his warriors. The frontier settlements had been 
 forced and sacked, and the work had steadily pro- 
 gressed, from all points, toward the interior. 
 
 For, in the mean time, other tribes under other 
 chiefs had seized tomahawk and firebrand at the 
 same hour on the 18th, at distant points, and on 
 other routes. From the heads of all the rivers, from 
 the south side of James River, and from the north 
 side of the Pamunkey or York River, different hordes 
 
 28* 
 
330 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 had been hewing their way toward the centre of 
 the colony, with all vigor and with unsparing exe- 
 cution. 
 
 Everywhere along these tracts were strewed the 
 sad and revolting relics of a pitiless war. The corn 
 in the blade was cut up. The corn in store was cast 
 upon the embers of the habitations ; slaughtered cat- 
 tle and sheep and swine and men and women and 
 children lay around on the desolated homesteads ; 
 household furniture and farming tools were scattered 
 about in fragments, or burned to ashes, — in short, the 
 ruin was as universal and as complete as human 
 malice and swift industry could make it. In addi- 
 tion, many were carried into barbarous and hopeless 
 captkity, — some to linger in slavery, some to be 
 hewn bit by bit under the knife, some to be slowly 
 barbecued * at the stake. 
 
 ' Nowhere was the work more frightful or rapid than 
 on the track of Opechancanough and the favorite 
 tribes under his personal command. They consti- 
 tuted the main strength of the Powhattans. They 
 were the most courageous, the most fierce, the most 
 implacable in their hatred of the English, and the 
 most familiar with the modes of English warfare; 
 and well did they sustain their reputation through 
 these terrific days and nights. But their fame outran 
 their havoc. Some who were attacked escaped, and 
 fled on the wings of terror to the inland settlements. 
 The alarm quickly spread. Every man started to 
 arms and to rescue ; and on the third day the slaugh- 
 
 * This word, says Beverly (p. 150), we derive from the Virginia In- 
 dians. 
 
331 
 
 terers were met and checked. Opechancanough saw 
 at once that the array of the English was complete 
 and resistless, that the onset of sword and firelock 
 and cavalry could not be sustained.* He gave the 
 order for retreat,! and vanished with his exhausted 
 bands into the depths of the wilderness.^ The other 
 chiefs operating in other districts were also compelled 
 to retire before the superior weapons and fresh forces 
 of the English. 
 
 About five hundred colonists had perished. Of the 
 number of those carried into captivity we have no 
 tale. 
 
 Every work of public enterprise — and there were 
 several which Sir William Berkeley had put in oper- 
 ation — was at once abandoned. Even husbandry 
 was suspended, and the whole capable population 
 were summoned to arms. "A chosen body, com- 
 prising every twentieth man, commanded by the 
 Governor in person, marched into the enemy's coun- 
 try." War followed, but of its details we have no 
 account. 
 
 * " The Indian war ended first, by the valour, courage, and hot charge 
 of Captain Marshall and valiant Stilwel." Desci-iption of the Province 
 of New Albion, in Force, Vol. II. 
 
 t " He directed from the litter on which he was carried the onset and 
 the retreat of his warriors." Burk, II. 57. 
 
 \ The writer of the " Perfect Description," and others following him, 
 ascribe the sudden retreat of the Indians to a special and mysterious in- 
 terference of Divine agency, producing a miraculous loss of courage " at 
 a moment of time," — a panic like that which seized " the host of the 
 Syrians " before the Avails of Samaria in the time of Elisha the prophet. 
 There seems no necessity of accounting for the stay of the massacre in 
 any other way than as Burk does (II. 55) : " It was absolutely neces- 
 sary that the frontier should be forced before the interior could be as- 
 sailed. Time was thus afforded the inland counties to arm," &c. 
 
332 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 The time-worn warrior of Pamvmkey was ready to 
 die whenever the Great Spirit would call him ; and 
 yet he scorned to die. He could meet his spirit- 
 fathers on their pleasant hunting-grounds without 
 shame ; for he had been a faithful Powhattan for a 
 hundred years. He had bared his breast to many a 
 storm ; he could bare it to more, seared and shrivelled 
 as it was. It was not for him to cower like a wo- 
 man ; it was not for him to weep and whine like a 
 child, under the whip of sorrow. A warrior he had 
 lived ; a warrior he would die. He could not wield 
 the tomahawk, but he could direct the fight, in this 
 mood had he retired before the mustering forces of 
 the English, and betaken himself to his secluded 
 home. He had done so only to save his men ; only 
 that he might rally and redirect them to more equal 
 conflicts. To this latter task, therefore, he girded 
 himself, with the stern purpose of a hero and the dig- 
 nity of a martyr. His spies and runners were busy in 
 all quarters, while his warriors stood waiting his di- 
 rections or went with enthusiasm to obey them ; and 
 rarely was a detachment of the English abroad, but 
 he sent out his ambuscades for scalps. But his rest- 
 less spirit could not brook inaction. He would be 
 abroad himself also, to watch and trap the marauders 
 of his country, to hear their cries when struck down 
 by his warriors, though he might not share the con- 
 flict. Thus, while planning and directing the opera- 
 tions of war, he was also carried by his men upon 
 various hostile excursions. 
 
 Upon one of these — it was, as nearly as we can 
 calculate, in the latter part of May or early in June — 
 he lay upon his litter, under a cool shade in the forest, 
 
333 
 
 "at some distance from his usual habitation." He 
 had been in motion for several days and nights ; and 
 now, overcome with fatigue and the heat of noon, he 
 had given himself up to a short repose. He slept. 
 But it was evident from the tone of his inarticulate 
 mutterings, and from the passions gleaming upon 
 his features, that the old man was young again in his 
 dreams, and was reacting the strifes of fourscore years 
 ago. His attendants were watching around him in 
 silence. Suddenly a warrior who had been reclining 
 upon the ground sprang noiselessly to his feet, with a 
 look of alarm, and almost at the same instant a sen- 
 try, who had been stationed at a short distance, 
 dashed into the circle and announced the coming 
 of English. They were close at hand, he said, and 
 flight was out of the question. Three or four others 
 now came hurriedly in from different points, bringing 
 the same report. They were surrounded, and were 
 not more than a dozen. Without a word, — for they 
 were of one mind, and knew it, — they stood shoulder 
 to shoulder around their slumbering chief, every man 
 with his arrow upon his bow. But even the slight 
 noise attending their movement had roused the sleep- 
 er from his dreams. He had but just uttered a word 
 of inquiry, when the English soldiers — some thirty 
 or forty in number — presented themselves on every 
 side. Every arrow was sped at the instant, and every 
 one found its mark, — but harmless against armor. 
 The assailants, with only broadswords, rushed shout- 
 ing and at once upon the party. One Indian had but 
 just time to throw himself as a shield upon the sacred 
 person of the chief, before the soldiers were upon 
 them. Another, aiming a blow with his war-club, 
 
334 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 received a sabre-stroke upon his shoulder, and fell 
 bleeding upon the litter. A few others were stunned 
 and slightly wounded, but all were overpowered by 
 numbers. The struggle was over almost as soon as 
 begun, and every Indian but the chief was pinioned. 
 It had been the purpose of the soldiers to capture, if 
 possible, without the loss of life. They had succeed- 
 ed. Their leader, and one of the foremost in the on- 
 set, was Sir William Berkeley. He had obtained 
 information — in what manner we are not told — 
 where Opechancanough was. Instantly placing him- 
 self at the head of a squadron of light cavalry, he had 
 ridden with all speed to the spot, and, by an adroit 
 approach and skilful precaution, had effected the sur- 
 prise. He now addressed himself courteously and re- 
 spectfully to the helpless chief, announcing that he 
 should convey him to Jamestown. 
 
 To this he made no reply, but, turning his closed 
 eyes toward Sir William, asked sharply : " Are my 
 children hurt ? Who fell at my feet ? " 
 
 " Uttomatin," replied a voice from the ground. 
 
 " Is Uttomatin hurt ? " turning his face in the direc- 
 tion of the voice. 
 
 " Uttomatin will yet show the English that he is a 
 Powhattan." 
 
 " Opechancanough ! " said Sir William Berkeley, 
 " none of your men are slain. There is blood shed, 
 but we are binding up their wounds." 
 
 " Let Opechancanough see." 
 
 The infirmities of the chief were well known to the 
 English, and one of the soldiers stepped forward and 
 raised his eyelids. Not a glance did the old man 
 bestow upon his victors, until he had scanned the per- 
 
THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE. 335 
 
 son of each one of his faithful warriors. Then, turn- 
 ing to Sir William, he said, in the tone of a demand, 
 " Let them be unbound." 
 
 " On one condition, — they shall not attempt 
 escape." 
 
 The chief looked in the eye of the English noble- 
 man with a right royal pride, and his lip curled with 
 scorn. " Do the white men run away when their king 
 is taken captive ? Opechancanough's children die 
 with him." 
 
 " It is enough," replied Sir William, and the pris- 
 oners were loosed. 
 
 Deprived of their weapons and surrounded by the 
 soldiers, the Indians now took up the litter of their 
 captive king, and proceeded to the spot where the 
 horses of the party had been picketed. Opechanca- 
 nough declined all conversation, and manifested a 
 dignified indifference to his fate. Their progress to 
 Jamestown was without incident, except that the cap- 
 tives, especially their chief, naturally attracted, at 
 their halting-places, such of the planters on the route 
 as had chanced to hear of their approach. The ex- 
 treme age of the chief inspired the people with rever- 
 ence; his infirmities woke their pity; his history as 
 a persevering and heroic foe excited their respect ; the 
 majesty of his port, his undaunted aspect, and the 
 filial devotion of his followers, commanded their ad- 
 miration. Thus, w^hen the cavalcade entered James- 
 town, although it was triumphal, and although the 
 captives were a spectacle unto all, not a scoff grated 
 upon their ears, or a jeer, or an exultant shout, from 
 all the mixed populace. In the living trophies, they 
 instinctively recognized, not only manly greatness and 
 
336 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 patriotic greatness, but fallen greatness too ; and they 
 had no heart for anything but respect for its regality 
 and compassion for its reverses. To this honorable 
 sentiment and behavior the example of Sir William 
 Berkeley contributed not a little. He appreciated the 
 character of the captive warrior, and the filial devoted- 
 ness of his attendants, and consequently demeaned 
 himself towards them with all deference. They were 
 his prisoners, to be sure, and of course in confinement 
 and under guard ; but he granted them every indul- 
 gence in his power. None of his attendants were 
 separated from the chief. Their touching anxiety for 
 his comfort, and to serve him in their persons, Sir 
 William would not interfere with. So Opechanca- 
 nough in his prison-house had his court about him. 
 
 He now felt that his last struggle was over ; that 
 his allotted work as a counsellor, as a warrior, as a 
 king and father to his people, was done. He had 
 nothing more before him but to die like a warrior and 
 a king. Yes, one thing more, he thought, and then — 
 death. His old flesh must feel the knife, and crisp 
 before the fire, and his old bones be crushed by the 
 executioner, before his spirit might join the spirits of 
 his fathers. The ingenuity of the white man would 
 invent unheard-of tortures for his most inveterate and 
 successful enemy. Upon all this Opechancanough 
 calculated ; and so did his followers, for him, for them- 
 selves. But his demeanor was that of a captive who 
 felt himself a king in every inch, — unbending, haughty, 
 reserved, unsolicitous about his fate. But whenever 
 he spake of it, which was seldom, it was only to ex- 
 press contempt for the torture-skill of the pale-face, 
 and to defy his power. 
 
THE CHIEF'S LAST STRUGGLE. 337 
 
 But had not Opechancanough known the English 
 thirty-five years ? and did he not know that English- 
 men did not kill then war-captives by torture ? 
 
 Torture ! was there no fashion of torture among 
 Englishmen ? Were there no " thumb-screws " in 
 Christian England then ? no " boots " ? no " scaven- 
 ger's daughters " ? no stakes and fagots ? no disem- 
 bowellings ? no hanging by the neck, " but not until 
 dead " ? no cutting-down of the sufferer while the 
 pulse yet beat, that he might feel the knife which 
 laid his vitals bare, and the hand which tore out his 
 heart to toss it on burning coals ? "Were there no such 
 things in glorious England then ? none long after ? 
 
 To be sure there were ! But Opechancanough did 
 not know them. 
 
 Perhaps not. But he knew some other things. 
 He knew what things the English did to each other 
 in Virginia. He knew what they had done to prison- 
 ers among themselves. He knew that they had 
 thrust irons through their tongues ; that they had 
 broken live men's bones upon the wheel ; that they 
 had chained men to trees, and left them there to starve 
 alone in the forest ; that some men they had burned ;* 
 that, at least, they did cut off the hands of Indian 
 prisoners.! Could Opechancanough expect better 
 execution for himself, their bloody enemy for so many 
 years, than they had given to their own brethren? 
 If they had done such things in the green tree, what 
 would they do in the dry ? 
 
 * Eor these statements, I must refer the reader again to the papers 
 solemnly drawn, signed, and sent to England by the Governor, Council, 
 and Burgesses in 1624, and recorded by Stith. 
 
 t Drake's Biography of the Indians, p. 355. 
 29 
 
338 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 But however he may have reasoned, and on what- 
 ever grounds he may have formed his expectations, 
 one thing is certain, — he expected death by excruci- 
 ating torture, but he scorned it 
 
 Sir William was about to sail for England, and the 
 fate to which he had doomed his captive was — a 
 voyage. It would be such an honor to his name to 
 present to his sovereign the champion-warrior of the 
 Indians, and their king ! Besides, what confusion to 
 those in England who libelled Virginia as a pestilen- 
 tial country, to see one of the inhabitants who had 
 shaken hands with an hundred years ! 
 
 But this was not to be. The chief and his men 
 were considerately permitted to enjoy the fresh air and 
 the warm sun, without which they would soon have 
 pined and died. While enjoying this privilege one day, 
 — it was a fortnight after his capture, — the aged king 
 was suddenly fired upon by one of his guards, in a fit 
 of passion. The ball lodged in his back, inflicting a 
 mortal wound. The Indians were frantic with rage. 
 Unarmed as they were, they flew like panthers at tho 
 ruffian soldier, and would have torn him to shreds but 
 for the instant protection of his comrades. The roar 
 of savage frenzy was bootless ; and they turned, utter- 
 ing wild cries of lament, to retire with their wounded 
 patriarch to their apartment. Here they tried their 
 rude skill to stanch the blood, and to revive his con- 
 sciousness. The stern men, from whom no tortures 
 could have wrung a sign of suffering, dropped tears 
 and groaned over Opechancanough. 
 
 Sir William Berkeley was greatly incensed at the 
 outrage, and did all in his power to prevent a fatal 
 result. Surgical aid and proper attendance were pro- 
 
339 
 
 vided for the chief, but with no seeming benefit. It 
 soon became evident that he must die. He lingered, 
 however, for several days. He gave no utterance of 
 suffering, and no sign of dejection. He spake but 
 few words, and those chiefly to his followers ; but in 
 many ways he discovered to the last an unbroken 
 pride, a stoical indifference to his fate, and a lofty 
 contempt for every Englishman who intruded upon 
 his presence. He betrayed none of the milder feelings 
 of human nature, except by the silent but eloquent 
 affection with which he received the services of his 
 countrymen. Now and then it was displayed in the 
 satisfaction with which he would gaze upon his at- 
 tendants for a few moments, and in the look of fare- 
 well with which he would then order his eyelids to 
 be dropped. His children, as he always called them, 
 were about him night and day. It would have 
 moved the hardest heart to witness the breathless anx- 
 iety with which they bent over his couch ; the big 
 tears which sometimes dropped from their eyes, in 
 spite of their pride ; the womanly tenderness with 
 which they relieved his posture, or ministered to his 
 burning thirst ; the gentle tones in which they asked 
 his wants ; the noiseless tread with which they 
 moved ; the tremulous whispers in which they spake ; 
 and the sullen anguish with which they sometimes 
 sank writhing on the floor. " The strong men bowed 
 themselves." 
 
 " Uttomatin ! " whispered the dying patriarch, "why 
 are my children so noisy ? Let them be silent." 
 
 " They are the pale-faces, my father. They come 
 to see." 
 
 A frown clouded the brow of Opechancanough. 
 " Uttomatin ! let me see." 
 
340 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 As his eyes were opened, he gave a look at the in- 
 truders upon his privacy, beneath which some of them 
 shrank, — brutal as they were. 
 
 " Raise me, Uttomatin ! " 
 
 The warrior did so, supporting the dying man 
 against his breast. 
 
 " Let the chief of the white men be called. He 
 must come instantly. Opechancanough demands it." 
 
 When Sir William shortly after appeared, the chief 
 with great effort attained to a full and strong voice, 
 and said, with a look of right royal scorn : " Shame, — 
 shame to the pale-face chief, who makes a gazing- 
 stock of his captive on a dying bed ! Had it been my 
 fortune to have taken Sir William Berkeley prisoner, 
 I would have given him honor, such as a great chief 
 should have, at the stake, and in the presence of my 
 braves. But I would not meanly have kept him for a 
 show. A dog has a right to peace and privacy when 
 the hand of the Great Spirit is upon him." * 
 
 Soon after, the scene closed. Opechancanough had 
 fulfilled his course. His spirit had returned unto God 
 who gave it. 
 
 * I have varied the traditionary words of Opechancanough only so far 
 as to give what I believe to have been his real meaning. 
 
 The historian who retorts that he " made a show " of Captain Smith, 
 should remember that Opechancanough made no complaint that he, 
 like Captain Smith, was made a show on his progress to the head-quar- 
 ters of his captors ; and that there is a heaven-wide difference between 
 the exhibition of a military captive in a triumphal procession, and the 
 admission of a gaping rabble to the private apartment of a dying man. 
 Opechancanough was consistent with himself, with his own behavior, 
 with his own high sense of honor. His rebuke was as sound as caustic ; 
 and, had the supposition on which it was made — that Sir William was 
 privy to the transaction — been true, it would have been infamously 
 deserved. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 
 
 In the same month in which Opechanca- 
 nough died, Sir William Berkeley sailed for 
 England, disappointed of his trophy. He returned, 
 however, and resumed the duties of his office in June 
 of the next year. 
 
 In October, 1646, a treaty of peace was effected 
 with Necotowance, the successor of Opechancanough. 
 He acknowledged himself a tributary of the king of 
 England, and ceded to the English all the country be- 
 tween the York and James rivers. 
 
 In March, 1648, he came in person to Jamestown, 
 having in his train five subordinate chiefs, and bring- 
 ing his annual tribute to King Charles. Upon this 
 occasion he made " a long oration " to Sir William 
 Berkeley, in which he protested that "the sun and 
 moon should first lose their glorious lights and shin- 
 ing, before he or his people should evermore hereafter 
 wrong the English in any kind, but they would ever 
 hold love and friendship together." 
 
 A large measure of internal thrift was now the lot 
 of the colony. The Indians seemed thoroughly indis- 
 posed to cope with their powerful invaders, retired 
 beyond the neighborhood of their settlements, and 
 were forbidden by Necotowance, on pain of death, 
 to appear within the English limits, unless sent by 
 
 29* 
 
342 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 him as messengers. The colonists now numbered 
 fifteen thousand,* and " of negroes three hundred 
 good servants." They were visited usually by about 
 thirty trading-vessels in a year, and in the preceding 
 December there lay in their waters at one time twelve 
 ships from England, twelve from Holland, and seven 
 from New England. There were in the colony twenty 
 thousand neat cattle, two hundred horses and mares, 
 fifty asses, three thousand sheep, five thousand goats, 
 and innumerable swine and poultry ; hundreds of acres 
 of wheat, " plenty of barley, excellent malt, and six 
 publike Brew-houses " ; indigo, hemp, and flax ; four 
 wind-mills, five water-mills, many horse-mills, but no 
 saw-mills ; twenty churches, and ministers to each 
 whose livings were worth at least one hundred pounds 
 per annum. The Governor, from half a bushel of 
 rice, had raised fifteen, which he was intending to 
 sow at the next season. He had fifteen hundred 
 fruit-trees, besides apricots, peaches, quinces, &c. 
 Captain Brocas had planted a vineyard, and " made 
 most excellent wine." Richard Bennet, from an or- 
 chard of his own planting, " had made twenty Butts 
 of excellent cider." For the last three or four years, 
 Richard Kinsman had made forty or fifty butts of 
 perry. But " worthy Captaine Matthews, an old 
 Planter of above thirty years standing," seems to have 
 been the prince of planters, — " hath a fine house, 
 sowes yeerly store of Hemp and Flax, and causes it 
 to be spun ; keeps weavers, and hath a Tan House ; 
 causes leather to be dressed ; hath eight shoemakers 
 
 * " Perfect Description," p. 3. Bancroft states the number at twenty- 
 thousand. Grahame gives twenty thousand as the number in 1642! 
 Vol. I. p. 96. 
 
VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 343 
 
 employed in their trade ; hath forty negroe servants," 
 more than one eighth of all in Virginia ; " brings 
 them up to trades in his house ; yeerly sows abun- 
 dance of wheat, barley, &c. ; hath abundance of kine, 
 a brave dairy, swine great store, and Poltery ; keeps 
 a good house, lives bravely, and a true lover of Vir- 
 ginia ; he is worthy of much honor." 
 
 There was also at this time " a Free-schoole with 
 two hundred acres of land, a fine house upon it, forty 
 milch kine." It was established " by Mr. Benjamin 
 Symes, worthy to be chronicled." * 
 
 The civil war in England, which had been 
 raging since 1642, was closed by the execution 
 of the king on the 30th of January, 1649. Virginia 
 had no share in the strife. Her intercourse with Eng- 
 land had, indeed, been much interrupted, and her 
 trade hindered ; still, as we have seen, her domestic 
 condition was prosperous. The planters pursued their 
 quiet labors without interruption, and waited with 
 anxiety for the issue of the struggle in the mother 
 country. But when, at length, the news arrived that 
 the king was beheaded, — that British royalty was 
 overthrown, — the Virginians did not acknowledge 
 " The Commonwealth." Their Assembly met in Oc- 
 tober, and in their first act "expressed the profoundest 
 veneration for the late king ; denounced all aspersions 
 upon his memory as treasonable ; declared it treason 
 to doubt the right of Prince Charles to succeed to the 
 crown, or to propose a change of government in the 
 colony, or to doubt the authority of the Governor or 
 government." 
 
 * Perfect Description of Virginia. 
 
344 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 If this attachment to royalty seem inconsistent with 
 the sturdy principles of self-government which Vir- 
 ginia had so long cherished, it should be remembered 
 that hitherto — owing, perhaps, to the embarrass- 
 ments of the late monarch — her liberties had been 
 untouched. Practically, she had been independent. 
 Under the shadow of the throne, she had been un- 
 molested, and had flourished. Why, then, should 
 she repudiate a political relationship hitherto little 
 more than nominal, and, for aught she had experi- 
 enced, salutary ? Why, especially, should she capri- 
 ciously transfer allegiance from the venerable crown, 
 which generations of her ancestors had honored, to 
 a usurping power which had sprung up in a night 
 and might perish in a day ? Above all, why should 
 she, like a fickle maiden, welcome a new lord, who, 
 where he now had sway, spurned the Church in whose 
 arms she had been reared, — who overturned her al- 
 tars and drave out her priesthood ? Cromwell and the 
 Commonwealth were for Puritanism ; the Crown and 
 Virginia were for Episcopacy. Such considerations 
 may account for Virginia " being whol for monarchy." 
 
 The loyal spirit of the colony was well known in 
 England. Berkeley, " the honest Governor, (for no 
 
 man meant better,) writ to the king," Charles 
 
 II., "almost inviting him thither," and had received 
 a new commission from the royal hand. Virginia 
 was a house of refuge to the despairing Cava- 
 liers ; many persons of good condition, and " good 
 officers in the war," "nobility, clergy, and gentry," 
 " transported themselves thither, with all the estate 
 they had been able to preserve." They were wel- 
 comed by the people ; and Sir William Berkeley 
 
VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 345 
 
 " showed great respect to all the royal party who 
 made that colony their refuge. His house and purse 
 were open to all that were so qualify'd." Thus the 
 element of loyalty was largely increased, both in 
 measure and in fervor ; for the harrowing tales of 
 the refugees carried captive the sympathies of those 
 who heard them. 
 
 The Parliament, in October, 1650, took 
 measures to reduce the several colonies of 
 England to the authority of the Commonwealth. 
 A fleet under Sir George Ayscue was despatched 
 for this purpose to Barbadoes, Bermuda, and An- 
 tigua. 
 
 In September, 1651, Commissioners* were 
 appointed " to use their best endeavors to 
 reduce all the plantations within the Bay of the 
 Chesepick to their due obedience." They embarked 
 in the " Guinea Frigate," one of " two or three ships" 
 under the " command and conduct of Captain Robert 
 Dennis." They were instructed " to assure pardon 
 and indemnity to all the Inhabitants of the said Plan- 
 tations that shall submit unto the present Govern- 
 ment. And in case they shal not submit by fair 
 wayes and meanes, you are to use all acts of hos- 
 tility that lies in your power to enforce them." f 
 
 * " Captain Robert Dennis, Mr. Richard Bennet, Mr. Thomas Steg, 
 and Captain William Clairborn." 
 
 t Clarendon, 788. Also, "Duplicate Instructions" "in the name 
 and by order of the Council of State appointed by authority of Parlia- 
 ment," signed " John Bradshaw, President." The paper is in the tract 
 entitled " Virginia and Maryland," pp. 18-20, in Force, Vol. II. From 
 these " Instructions " it would seem that there were only two ships sent 
 to Virginia, — the " John " and the " Guinny Friggot " ; but as they first 
 joined Ayscue (so says Hildreth) in the West Indies, it is possible that 
 
346 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 In March, 1652, Edmund Curtis, with his 
 1652 
 
 colleagues, Bennet and Clairborne, arrived at 
 
 Jamestown, and summoned the colony to surrender. 
 Their ships were "armed and manned," having on 
 board a regiment of seven hundred and fifty men. 
 Berkeley had received notice of their coming, and 
 assumed a posture of resistance ; whether with the 
 intent to repel the vessels by force of arms, or only 
 by a show of such intent to obtain honorable terms, 
 does not appear. 
 
 There were several armed Dutch ships, merchant- 
 men, then lying in the river at Jamestown. By an 
 ordinance of Parliament, their presence there rendered 
 
 they appeared in the Chesapeake with such additional force as properly 
 to be called " a squadron." 
 
 The Instructions are so explicit in requiring that Dennis should al- 
 ways join in the official acts of his associates, that the words " whereof 
 Captain Eobert Dennis to be one " make a perpetual jingle through 
 the entire instrument. " Edmund Curtis, commander of the Guinny 
 Frigot," was empowered to act with the others as Commissioner, "in 
 case of mortality, or absence of Captain Eobert Dennis." Beverly and 
 Campbell state that Dennis was with the Commissioners at Jamestown ; 
 but, as Hildreth (I. 356) states that he and Steg "suffered shipwreck on 
 their passage " thither, and as only the names of Curtis, Clairborne, and 
 Bennett — notwithstanding the strict orders of the Council of State — 
 were appended to the papers subscribed at Jamestown, it is right to sup- 
 pose that Dennis did not arrive there. 
 
 It was doubtless from policy that "two of the Commissioners were 
 taken from among the planters themselves." Clairborne and Bennett, 
 both apparently in England when the Instructions were drawn, had been 
 banished from Virginia by the Governor and Council (Campbell, 68), 
 and were bitter in their feelings toward the colonial government, — fit 
 agents for the Commonwealth. Besides, Bennett at least was a Round- 
 head. In this view, we cannot say much about the " true magnanimity" 
 which suggested their appointment. See Bancroft, I. 222. 
 
 The ships had on board a hundred and fifty Scotch prisoners of war, 
 sent to Virginia to be sold as servants. Hildreth, I. 356. 
 
VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 347 
 
 them liable to seizure and confiscation. Self-interest, 
 therefore, prompted them to co-operate with the Gov- 
 ernor. They were promptly brought broadside-to to 
 the ships of the Commonwealth, and their decks were 
 efficiently reinforced by colonists. Several pieces of 
 ordnance supported them from the shore, the heights 
 of which were thronged with experienced soldiers. 
 Receiving at once a refusal of their summons, and 
 seeing these formidable preparations, the Commis- 
 sioners stood aloof. Communications, under flags of 
 truce, were opened by them with the colonial authori- 
 ties, and under the shadow of these flags not only 
 was the business of state conducted, but a very free, 
 and even fraternal, intercourse was sustained between 
 the Parliament forces and the people on shore. 
 
 But there was another potent agency also at work 
 for a peaceful accommodation. The " John " and 
 the " Guinny Frigot " had valuable property on 
 board belonging to two members of the Colonial 
 Council. The Commissioners whispered this in the 
 ears of the owners, who saw at once that they would 
 be richer or poorer, as they should promote or hinder 
 the design of Parliament. Thus Mammon, alio ays a 
 great politician and diplomatist, had a voice in the 
 deliberations of the Council. His sly pleadings raised 
 a division there ; and although in this instance they 
 would not have prevailed alone, yet they first, and 
 then the grave argument that resistance would prove 
 bloodshed in vain, led to honorable terms of capitu- 
 lation. These terms were dictated by the General 
 Assembly themselves, and were sent to Curtis " ac- 
 companied by a solemn declaration that, unless they 
 were acceded to in the most absolute and literal 
 
348 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 sense, without alteration or qualification, the colo- 
 nists were ready to suffer the last extremities rather 
 than submit." * They were " acceded to." 
 
 The colony recognized the authority of the Eng- 
 lish Commonwealth, and received guaranties in re- 
 turn. It was stipulated, first of all, " that this sub- 
 mission be acknowledged a voluntary act ; not 
 forced nor constrained by a conquest upon the coun- 
 try, and that they shall have and enjoy such freedoms 
 and privileges as belong to the free-born people of 
 England." They were then assured of full indem- 
 nity ; of the right of Assemblies as formerly ; of free 
 trade as the people of England do enjoy ; of freedom 
 from all taxes except by consent of the Assembly; 
 of the security of land grants ; and of the use of the 
 Book of Common Prayer for one year.f The safety 
 of the Dutch allies and the Cavaliers was also pro- 
 vided for.t 
 
 By other and separate articles of agreement be- 
 tween the Commissioners and the Council, suitable 
 and generous provision was made to insure the Gov- 
 ernor and Council from harm or annoyance in their 
 persons and estates, for one year, and within the 
 bounds of Virginia. 
 
 Such, in substance, were the terms on which Vir- 
 ginia acknowledged the authority of the English 
 Commonwealth ; terms by which all her former privi- 
 
 * Burk, II. 85. 
 
 t Notwithstanding these express words in the Instructions : " You 
 shall cause to he received and published the Acts [of Parliament] for 
 abolishing the Book of Common Prayer." 
 
 X By Articles X. and XIV., and particularly by Article IX. in the 
 agreement with the Council. See Burk, II. 87, 89, 90. 
 
VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 349 
 
 leges were secured, and by which her civil relation to 
 England — only it was England under her new gov- 
 ernment — continued unchanged.* 
 
 The commissions of the Governor and Council 
 were of course void, and "the Commissioners, with 
 the advice of the Assembly, administered the govern- 
 ment according to former precedents," until regular 
 appointments of Governor and Council should be 
 made by the Council of State in England. 
 
 * " There no sooner appeared two or three ships from the Parliament, 
 than all thoughts of resistance were laid aside." Clarendon, p. 788. 
 " Clarendon states the matter rightly. Beverly wrote in the next cen- 
 tury, and his account ..... is in itself improbable. How could Dutch 
 
 merchantmen have awaited an Eriglish squadron 1 Dutch ships 
 
 would at once have been seized as prizes." Bancroft, I. 223, note. 
 
 There are two questions respecting this transaction. 1. Was there, 
 or was there not, any show of armed resistance % 2. Were, or were not, 
 Dutch merchantmen trading with the colony at the time ? 
 
 Whatever " contemporary writers," or others, may be cited to sustain 
 a negative answer to these questions, I humbly conceive that none are 
 of authority so reliable as the very Articles of Capitulation, and the very 
 Act of Indemnity, signed by the Commissioners then and there. These 
 are now before me, in Burk, II. 85 - 90. 
 
 On the first question. " The act of indemnitie made att the surrender 
 of the countrey " has these words in its preamble : " Finding force raised 
 by the Governour and countrey to make opposition against the said 
 fleete, whereby assured danger appearinge of the ruine and destruction 
 of the plantation, for prevention whereof the burgesses of all the several 
 plantations being called to advise and assist therein, uppon long and 
 serious debate, and in sad contemplation of the great miseries and cer- 
 taine destruction which were so neerely hovering over the whole coun- 
 trey," &c. We find here evidence, to us conclusive, of a show of resist- 
 ance, — of very serious resistance, — of a resisting attitude of sufficient 
 duration to admit of " long and serious debate." 
 
 On the second question. To say nothing of the statements of Gra- 
 hame, Hildreth, Campbell, and Beverly, and without insisting upon the 
 fact that Burk, when he says " several Dutch ships were lying off James- 
 town," appeals to "Ancient Records," I will give the "Fourteenthly" 
 of the articles agreed upon between the Commissioners and the Grand 
 SO 
 
350 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 On the 30th of April, the Commissioners, jointly 
 with the House of Burgesses, organized a provisional 
 government " for a year, or until the pleasure of the 
 Council of State [in England] should be known." 
 Their executive officers were Richard Bennett, Gov- 
 ernor, William Clairborne, Secretary, and a Council, 
 whom they invested with only " such powers and 
 authorities, and to act from time to time as by the 
 
 Assembly : " That all goods alreadie brought hither by the Dutch and 
 others which are now on shoar shall be free from surprizall." The Dutch 
 merchantmen had put their goods on shore for safety; perhaps purposely, 
 that they might, unsuspected by the Commissioners, be included in this 
 very article of agreement. 
 
 These copies of original documents — we cannot suppose them to be 
 forgeries — are of paramount authority, and hardly justify the opinion 
 that " the account of Beverly " — followed, too, by that of Burk, on the 
 testimony of records — " is in itself improbable." Beverly, to be sure, 
 "wrote in the next century"; but the Commissioners, on the 12th of 
 March, 1652. 
 
 Dutch merchantmen, knowing well their exposure to seizure by the 
 ships of Parliament, "were careful to guard against the worst, by 
 mounting cannon, and by a sufficient supply of small arms and am- 
 munition." (Burk, II. 82.) 
 
 But would the colonists engage in a trade which the laws of England 
 declared, and treated, as contraband 1 They did. Even in the next 
 year, they not only claimed the right of free trade, but they even found- 
 ed that right both on the Articles of Capitulation and on the Parliament's 
 previous Act of Navigation itself, however sophistical their reasoning 
 from such premises may have been. But more. They were so strenu- 
 ous, sensitive, and jealous on this subject, that one Abraham Read was 
 arraigned and tried for saying " that no foreigners ought to have trade 
 in Virginia, which is contrary to an Act of Parliament, and the articles 
 grajited upon the surrender of the colony." The colonists certainly 
 acted on the opinion that they had, and had had, the right to trade with 
 foreigners. Burk, II. 96. 
 
 The truth concerning this memorable transaction is of importance, as 
 showing the chivalry of the Virginians, and their determination to sub- 
 mit to no imposition, to no dishonor, and to alienate none of their cher- 
 ished rights as freemen. 
 
VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 351 
 
 Grand Assembly shall be appointed and granted to 
 their several places respectively for the time afore- 
 said." It was also declared, that all the officers of 
 the colony should be appointed by the Burgesses. 
 
 " It had been usual for the Governor and Council 
 to sit in the Assembly ; the expediency of the meas- 
 ure was questioned, and a temporary compromise en- 
 sued; they retained their former right, but were re- 
 quired to take the oath which was administered to the 
 Burgesses," which was, " to act with the best of your 
 judgment and advice for the public good, not min- 
 gling with it any particular of private interest." 
 
 And although the Assembly of 1654 were in- 
 duced, for some reason, to restrict the right of 
 suffrage — hitherto conceded to all tax-payers * — to 
 those who had a certain qualification in real or per- 
 sonal estate, yet in 1656, by an act of repeal, 
 they replaced the right on its former demo- 
 cratic basis, because "it is something hard and un- 
 agreeable to reason that any person shall pay equal 
 taxes and yet have no vote in elections." f 
 
 In 1658, the Assembly created other safe- 
 guards to their liberties. On the 13th of March, L 
 they "themselves " elected as Governor the man " who 
 kept a good house, lived bravely, and was a true lover 
 
 * " The payment of taxes was almost the sole qualification." — Burk, 
 I. 303, note. "Every titheable or taxable inhabitant was an essential 
 part of the sovereignty, and voted for members of the Assembly." — Ibid. 
 314. 
 
 t Burk, II. 1 08 ; Campbell, 72. This was done under Edward Digges 
 as Governor, who had been elected the year before, 1655, "by the As- 
 sembly itself" — Bancroft, I. 226, — i. e., without the Commissioners of 
 Parliament, who were elsewhere occupied. 
 
352 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 of Virginia" ; and immediately saw fit to rescind the 
 " temporary compromise " of 1652 ; by which act they 
 denied the Governor and Council the right of sitting 
 with the Burgesses, — thus constituting themselves a 
 separate and independent department of the Legisla- 
 tive. This the "worthy Captaine Matthews" re- 
 sented. He therefore issued a message, on the 1st of 
 April, declaring the Assembly dissolved. The Bur- 
 gesses denied his right to do so, and requested him to 
 retract ; and, in secret session, bound themselves by 
 oath not to submit to an act so arbitrary. The 
 Governor yielded, revoking the order of dissolution, 
 but said that he should refer to Cromwell the question 
 of his disputed right. The Assembly, jealous lest one 
 such reference should prove a precedent by which their 
 legislative proceedings in future should become en- 
 tangled and complicated, and their liberties abridged, 
 immediately and solemnly drew up and passed a dec- 
 laration, that they were an independent body ; that 
 no power in Virginia but their own could dissolve 
 them ; that, as representatives of the people, they 
 were the sovereign power; and that they who, as 
 such, had the power to make, had also the power to 
 unmake. To illustrate their doctrine, they imme- 
 diately deposed the Governor and Council. But to 
 show that they did so from regard to a principle, and 
 not from personal pique, they immediately re-elected 
 him, and offered to invest him " with all the just rights 
 and privileges belonging to the Governour and Cap- 
 taine Generall of Virginia," on condition of his tak- 
 ing a new oath, prescribed by them, in which he 
 should acknowledge the supremacy of the Assembly. 
 To this he consented, thus avowedly holding his office 
 
VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 353 
 
 under them.* The Burgesses also elected a new 
 Council. 
 
 Thus rigidly did Virginia adhere to the true doc- 
 trines of free government, and thus boldly did she 
 proclaim them ; at different times, from 1652 to 1658, 
 limiting the powers of the Executive, declaring that 
 the people, by their representatives, should be elect- 
 ors of all officers, that taxation gives suffrage, that the 
 popular branch of the Legislature should be a dis- 
 tinct body, that it existed by the act of the people 
 and not by executive sufferance, and that magistrates 
 are not the people's masters, but their servants. In 
 other words, the Virginians proclaimed and expounded 
 the grand democratic doctrine, that The Sovereign of 
 the State is The People. 
 
 In March, 1659, the decease of Oliver Crom- 
 well, which had occurred on the 3d of the pre- 
 ceding September, was officially announced to the 
 Assembly of Virginia, who immediately passed a 
 resolution recognizing Richard Cromwell as his fa- 
 ther's successor.f 
 
 Immediately upon the recognition of the Eng- 
 lish Commonwealth by the Virginia Assembly 
 in 1652, Sir William Berkeley had quietly retired to 
 his plantation at Greenspring, where he had continued 
 unmolested, happy in the respect and affection of the 
 people. His hospitable mansion had open doors for 
 all the royalists who had fled from the persecutions of 
 the Commonwealth. Arrangements had been made 
 between the Commissioners and the Council "that 
 
 * Bancroft, I. 226, 227 ; Campbell, 72. But more clearly expressed 
 in Lippincott's Cabinet History, Virginia, pp. 162, 163. 
 t Campbell, 72. 
 
 30* 
 
354 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the Governor and Council shall have their passes to 
 go away from hence in any ship within a year." But 
 Sir William's departure had been prevented, and he 
 was therefore liable to arrest. To prevent this, the 
 Assembly, in 1653, had passed a special act permit- 
 ting him to remain eight months longer. And in 
 1656 his continued residence had been again sanc- 
 tioned by an act of Assembly. Thus, under one pre- 
 text and another, his residence in Virginia appears to 
 have been uninterrupted. 
 
 On the 226. of April, 1659, Richard Cromwell's 
 power came to an end, and soon after in that year he 
 resigned his office. Governor Matthews had deceased 
 when the Virginia Assembly next met, on the 13th of 
 March, 1660. They immediately passed an act, de- 
 claring that, as there was " noe resident absolute and 
 generall confessed power in England," therefore the 
 supreme government of the colony should vest in the 
 Assembly. Their next act was the election of Sir 
 "William Berkeley as Governor, restricting him from 
 dissolving the Assembly without their consent. When 
 the office was offered to him, he said in reply : " I doe 
 therefore, in the presence of God and you, make this 
 safe protestation for us all, that if any supreame set- 
 tled power appeares, I will immediately lay down my 
 commission, but will live most submissively obedient 
 to any power God shall set over me, as the experience 
 of eight years have shewed I have done." There was 
 no recognition of Charles II. in any of the acts of this 
 Assembly ; nor was there in an official letter of the 
 Governor dated the 20th of August next, nearly three 
 months after Charles II. had ascended the throne, 
 though before the event was known in Virginia.* 
 
 * Campbell, 73, 74, 78. 
 
VIRGINIA AND CROMWELL. 355 
 
 In March, 1661, Berkeley received a new 
 royal commission as Governor, dated July 31st, 
 1660. 
 
 Thus quietly did Virginia pass from the Crown to 
 the Commonwealth, and again from the Common- 
 wealth to the Crown ; for the Assembly of this year 
 — consisting, however, mainly of new members, and 
 probably the new were royalists — sent a loyal ad- 
 dress to the king. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 FRONTIER LITE. 
 
 For fourteen successive years Virginia had 
 been governed by Sir William Berkeley in the 
 name of King Charles II. During this time the pop- 
 ulation had greatly increased ; and, to a superficial 
 observer, the colony had every sign of prosperity and 
 content. For the most part, the administration of the 
 Governor had been unexceptionable, and had been 
 rewarded by the esteem and affection of the people at 
 large. He had been with them thirty-five years, nearly 
 all of which time he had been their chief magis- 
 trate, distinguished alike for his public spirit, his high 
 principle, his amiable manners, and his generosity. 
 He had devoted the strength of his days, and a large 
 portion of his private estate, to promote the interests 
 of the colony. In addition to his salary of <£ 1,000 
 allowed by the Crown, the Assembly, in 1767, had 
 voted him X200 per annum, and for life, as some 
 compensation for his losses under the Common- 
 wealth. 
 
 In 1671, according to his statement made to the 
 Lords of the Commissioners of Colonies, the people 
 of Virginia numbered forty thousand, of which two 
 thousand were negro slaves, and six thousand white 
 indented servants. They could muster for military 
 service eight thousand cavalry ; had two forts on the 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 357 
 
 James River, and one on each of the rivers Rappa- 
 hannock, York, and Potomac. They had thirty can- 
 non ; and received into their ample waters eighty ves- 
 sels yearly from England and Ireland, which came for 
 tobacco, besides a few small vessels from New Eng- 
 land. 
 
 In compliance with instructions from the king, an 
 attempt had been made to establish towns as ports of 
 entry ; and in 1662 seventeen new houses had been 
 added to the hitherto insignificant village of James- 
 town. Of these, one was built by the Governor him- 
 self ; a few, by members of the Council ; others, by 
 planters and traders, and at the expense of the counties.* 
 For a while, the place had been the scene of consider- 
 able bustle. But this impulse, being from constrained 
 and artificial means, and contrary to the genius of the 
 people and the natural currents of trade, was but tem- 
 porary ; and Jamestown, for a long time, was but a 
 cluster of thirty-two brick houses, most of which had 
 been converted into taverns and hucksters' shops. 
 Until 1664, the Quarter Courts, and even the Assem- 
 bly, had met in taverns. But at that time it was re- 
 solved to purchase a house for the use of the courts, 
 and to build a State-House for the Assembly. 
 
 But Jamestown was no specimen of Virginia. The 
 thousands of her people were scattered thinly all 
 along upon the banks of her noble rivers and her beau- 
 tiful creeks. The planter seated himself, wherever he 
 could effect a title, upon the rich bottom-lands, but 
 
 * The settled territory of Virginia had been divided, in 1634, into 
 eight shires or counties; in 1642, three had been added; in 1652, four; 
 in 1653, one. In 1666, there were nineteen ; in 1670, there were twenty. 
 Burk, II. 43, 68, 95, 140 ; Campbell, 79. 
 
358 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 lately the homes and the gardens of the banished na- 
 tives, and devoted himself, in his romantic seclusion, 
 to his family and his crops. The Virginia plantation 
 usually extended back from the river's shore about an 
 English mile; and along the shore a half-mile, or 
 one, two, three miles, and sometimes more. Thus 
 plantations of a thousand or two thousand acres, and 
 even more, were not uncommon ; for the Virginian 
 had a passion for real estate, and the bounty of fifty 
 acres to the transporter for every resident whom any 
 one should transport from England, rendered the ac- 
 quisition comparatively easy to settlers who could pay 
 the trifling passage-money of servants. Thus situ- 
 ated, the planters were necessarily scattered, seldom 
 meeting except upon public occasions, and caring for 
 little else than the visit of the trading-ship at their 
 doors, and a fair exchange for their tobacco. It was 
 very natural, in a country watered by rivers some of 
 which were navigable for a hundred miles, that its 
 produce should be sought by the merchant, rather than 
 that the producer should transport it to stated and 
 distant marts in the colony. The ship which entered 
 the Chesapeake for tobacco must be laden for traffic. 
 She must ascend the rivers. She must pass along 
 from plantation to plantation, bartering her miscella- 
 neous cargo for the staple of the country. Thus the 
 skipper on the James or the Potomac, " carrying all 
 sorts of truck, could at the best drive, in the way of 
 trade, only a sort of Scotch peddling" ; while the plant- 
 er, from his low-roofed but commodious dwelling, 
 surrounded by " his flocks grazing, whisking, and 
 skipping in his sight," looked out from his door-way 
 or his " shuttered " window upon the " delightfull " 
 
FRONTIER LIFL. 359 
 
 river before him, and only waited for the coming of the 
 supercargo, whom he welcomed to his home, his table, 
 his pipe, and his storehouse. It is easy to perceive, 
 therefore, why Virginia had no towns, and why all 
 the instructions of the king, and all the orders of the 
 Council, and all the bounties offered by the Assembly, 
 could not make it otherwise. 
 
 But there were hinderances to the general ease and 
 content. Notwithstanding his many acres, his rich 
 soil, his supply of servants, and his abundant crops, 
 the Virginia planter of 1675 did not thrive. There 
 had been a wise attempt on the part of the Assembly, 
 in 1667, to establish manufactures, particularly of 
 cloth. But the zeal in their behalf had subsided, and, 
 after a little while, had become comparatively fruit- 
 less. There were no manfacturing operations in Vir- 
 ginia worthy of account. For his simple utensils, the 
 planter might rely upon his own unpractised handi- 
 craft ; but for his more important ones, for his house- 
 hold goods, and for almost all his clothing, he must 
 look to the market of Europe. His entire crop of to- 
 bacco was scarcely sufficient to provide clothing for 
 his dependents. " His sheep " — if he had any — 
 " yielded good increase, and bore good fleeces ; but — 
 he sheared them only to cool them." While producing 
 abundance, he was impoverished. With all his wealth, 
 he was poor. The paradox is easily explained : 
 planters sheared sheep to cool them ; government 
 sheared planters to heat them. This our narrative 
 will show. 
 
 In the year 1675, Stafford was the upmost or fron- 
 tier county on the Potomac. On a pleasant Sabbath 
 
360 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 morning in the spring of this year, a party of men 
 were passing along the almost pathless forest in the 
 upper part of the county. They were neighbors, — 
 which, in those days, meant that they did not live 
 very many miles apart, — and had fallen in with each 
 other, by a sort of tacit appointment, on their ways to 
 their little rustic church, embowered by itself far from 
 any one plantation, " though placed in the middest of 
 them." In this remote district, it was very seldom 
 that public worship could be held ; for there were but 
 about fifty parishes in Virginia, and " not above a 
 fifth part of them were supplied with ministers." * 
 
 Glad to improve so rare an opportunity, the party 
 had been freely gossiping about their domestic ex- 
 perience and prospects, when one of them very inno- 
 cently gave a turn to their discourse, by a somewhat 
 scrutinizing survey of the garments of a companion 
 who had but just joined them. He did it by no 
 means impertinently, but it was noticed. 
 
 " Brandon ! I am a sorry-looking fellow, for one 
 
 * Virginia's Cure, 4. Campbell, 79. Sir William Berkeley, writing 
 in 1670 or 1671, said : " Our ministers are well paid, and by my consent 
 should be better, if they would pray oftener and preach less. But as of 
 all other commodities, so of this, the worst are sent to us." (Campbell, 79.) 
 The old Cavalier disliked popular education, and a preaching ministry 
 as an auxiliary to it. Yet it is not improbable that the clergy of Vir- 
 ginia used their pulpits politically, and perhaps some of them tvere of 
 "the worst." Hammond, in his "Leah and Rachel," printed in 1656, 
 said that — previously, to be sure — " Virginia savouring not handsome- 
 ly in England, very few Gospel Ministers would adventure thither. Yet 
 many came, such as wore Black Coats, and could babble in a Pulpit, 
 roare in a Tavern, exact from their Parishioners, and rather by their 
 dissolutenesse destroy than feed their Flocks." And added, " Oh ! that 
 God would stir up the hearts of more to go over, such as would teach 
 good doctrine, and not paddle in faction or state matters ! " (pp. 9, 20.) 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 361 
 
 going to church, I know ; but God knows it 's neither 
 my fault nor his, blessed be his name ! " 
 
 " I beg pardon, Bailey. I was inspecting your 
 Sunday dress, to be sure ; but it was thoughtlessly, 
 and yet thoughtfully. I mean, I was not conscious 
 of an act which might seem impertinent, and yet 
 your garments set me a thinking. But what did you 
 mean by saying, ' nor his fault ' ? " 
 
 " I meant that the Lord has given me land enough, 
 and cattle, and servants, and as brave a wife as ever 
 came to Virginia woods ; how, then, can I lay a 
 threadbare coat to his charge ? " 
 
 u I know, I know," replied the other sharply ; 
 u you 're robbed ; we 're all robbed." 
 
 " Lawfully, though." 
 
 " Legally, not lawfully." 
 
 " Well, well," replied Bailey, " lawfully is by law, 
 and legally is by law. But robbery is robbery 
 after all." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " inquired Thomas Hope, 
 another of the neighbors. " You talk about robbery 
 and law-robbing. All I know is, that we can get 
 nothing for our tobacco, and so we are poor. But 
 no man robs us." 
 
 " Heavens ! don't you know, Hope, what the Navi- 
 gation Law is ? " inquired Bailey. 
 
 " Navigation Law ! No. But I know what the 
 Navigation Act is. I 've heard o' thatP 
 
 His companions laughed at their neighbor's igno- 
 rance ; but Bailey replied indifferently : " Well, sir, 
 the Navigation Act is the Navigation Law." 
 
 " Oh ! is it ? And what has the Navigation Act 
 to do with robbing, pray ? " 
 
 31 
 
362 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 u Did you not say," asked Brandon, " that yon 
 know what the Navigation Act is ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 « What is it ? " 
 
 " Why, it 's the law about sailing ships ; and I say 
 I don't see what ship-sailing has to do with robbing." 
 
 " Upon my word," rejoined Bailey, "you must have 
 kept away from folks a great while, if you have n't 
 heard how the Navigation Act robs you." 
 
 " I 've been among folks some, — to the County 
 Courts, and once I went to Quarter Court to James- 
 town, and seed Sir William in his grand dress a- 
 horseback. So you need n't think I have n't been 
 among folks. And I 've heard a deal said, in a kind 
 o' a swearin' way, about the Navigation Act ; but 
 somehow I never could see what a planter like me, 
 up here in the woods, has to do with navigation." 
 
 " Did you never ask, Hope ? " inquired Brandon, 
 who really felt sorry for his neighbor's heedless igno- 
 rance. 
 
 " No. I don't have nothin' to do with ships, only 
 when one comes up the river for tobacco. What 
 should I ask for ? " 
 
 " Suppose you ask now." 
 
 " Well," said the other, good-humoredly, " I '11 ask. 
 What has the Navigation Act to do with me, or with 
 robbing folks ? " 
 
 " What do you get for your crop ? " 
 " About three happence. Maybe sometimes, for 
 very good, tuppence." 
 
 u And why don't you get threepence, fourpence, 
 sixpence ? " 
 
 " My soul ! if I did, I never should get to heaven, 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 363 
 
 I should be so rich ; for a rich man can't get into the 
 kingdom. The Lord preserve me from sixpence a 
 pound ! " 
 
 " Don't deceive yourself, Hope," said Brandon, 
 laughing. " Don't deceive yourself with Puritan 
 cant on the way to church. If sixpence a pound 
 were offered you, I fear me you 'd forget about the 
 kingdom of heaven." 
 
 " Maybe, maybe. I only said, ' The Lord preserve 
 me.' Well, Brandon, thrippence, fuppence, sixpence, 
 why don't I get it ? " 
 
 a It 's time you should know, Hope. The Naviga- 
 tion Act says that the man who buys your tobacco 
 shall not carry it anywhere but to England." 
 
 " All right. Old England ought to have it." 
 
 " But if Old England has all that grows in Vir- 
 ginia, she has more than she wants." 
 
 " Then let 'em carry it somewhere else." 
 
 " Right, neighbor ; you 're right there. You have 
 hit the nail on the head ; and so has .the Navigation 
 Act, for it says they sha? nH carry it anywhere else." 
 
 "Sha'n't!" 
 
 " Exactly, — sha' n't. And so, you see, if there is 
 ten times as much Virginia tobacco in England as 
 is wanted there, and if the law won't let them sell it 
 anywhere else, then the law touches your tobacco 
 crop, and your pocket." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I see. Because they can't sell it." 
 
 " No. They sell it, but they get so little for it that 
 they can give you but little." 
 
 " So that 's the law, is it ? that 's the Navigation 
 Act ? " 
 
 " A part of it." 
 
364 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 « And what 's t' other part ? " 
 
 M There are two other parts. One is, that if the 
 ships could carry your crop to France or Holland, 
 you would get twice, or three or four times, as much 
 for it. And the other is, that the ships shall not 
 bring you a plough, or a spade, or a pair of shears, or 
 a piece of cloth, unless they are made in England." 
 
 " An't that a good law ? Faith ! I don't want my 
 things from anywhere else. The English can beat 
 the French, and Dutch, and all, a makin' 'em, any 
 day. Where can we get so good as in good Old 
 England ? — God bless her ! " 
 
 Brandon was determined that Hope should under- 
 stand a matter so important, and patiently proceeded 
 to instruct him. 
 
 " I '11 give you the whole in a nut-shell. You take 
 a cargo of tobacco. You must carry it to England. 
 * Sir,' you say, ' will you buy my tobacco ? ' ' No, 
 no, Mr. Hope. I have too much on hand already. 
 I don't want it.' ' Very well, Mr. Londoner, I '11 just 
 take it over to Holland.' The man grins, and you 
 go away. But just then Mr. Navigation Act comes 
 along, and says : ' Take care, Hope ! If you take a 
 pound to Holland, I '11 trounce you ! ' Now it would 
 be a queer thing for little Mr. Hope to set himself up 
 in a tussle with the British Lion. So he scratches his 
 head to think ; and being made all of a tremble by 
 just the hint of good Old England's wrath, he comes 
 back, and says : ' Mi'. Londoner, please take my to- 
 bacco. Mr. Navigation Act says I must n't take it 
 to Holland.' < So, so, Mr. Hope ! exactly so. Well, 
 to accommodate you, I '11 take it for so much.' 
 1 That 's a ruinous price for a planter, Mr. Lon- 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 365 
 
 doner ! ' ' Can't help it, Mr. Hope ; sorry for you, 
 but can't give more.' So you make your bargain at 
 a ruinous price. But you have n't got through with 
 Mr. Navigation Act yet. You want cloth and other 
 things to bring back ; not money. You go about, 
 jingling it in your pocket, to buy. 'But, Mr. Clothier, 
 Mr. Brazier, Mr. Cordwainer, Mr. Cutler, these are 
 ruinous prices for a Virginia planter ! ' ' Can't help 
 it, Mr. Hope ; we hardly make a penny,' the liars ! 
 * Well, gentlemen, I can't afford it. Mounseer or 
 Mynheer can do better by me.' Then comes Mr. 
 Navigation Act again, with his cudgel : ' Take care, 
 Mr. Hope, how you take French goods, or Dutch 
 goods, or any other than English goods, into Vir- 
 ginia.' And so my good friend Hope sneaks back, 
 and says : ' Gentlemen, I can't help myself ; I must 
 have your goods, and I must take them at your 
 prices.' So you trade ; the ruinous price of the 
 buyer to sell for, and the ruinous price of the seller 
 to buy for. And between them both, poor Planter 
 Hope is pretty well fleeced, and brings back ruinous 
 little for his crop. Now you don't go yourself; but 
 that is just the way, my friend, that our tobacco, 
 which we must sell, is sold ; and just the way our 
 goods, which we must have, are bought. The Navi- 
 gation Act was made for London purses, for London 
 extortioners, and we are at their mercy, — that 's all.* 
 
 * The English Navigation Act reached its climax of severity in 1663. 
 It had its origin in a measure adopted by the Long Parliament for bring- 
 ing the colonies into subjection, and for ruining the commerce of the 
 Dutch. This was the nucleus. This famous act was not a Stuart 
 measure, nor Cromwellian, nor Hanoverian. It was national. It was 
 English. England, ever supremely selfish, and in her selfishness insane, 
 held it as an axiom, that Englishmen of full blood became vulgarized 
 31* 
 
366 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 So you understand what makes my neighbor Bailey 
 here wear such a coat on Sunday." 
 
 " Thunder ! " and the frontier man stood agape. 
 
 " What ! " 
 
 « Is that the Navigation Act ? " 
 
 16 That is the Navigation Act, which you 've heard 
 folks ' kind o' swearin' about.' " 
 
 16 'Fore George ! it cuts both ways ! " 
 
 " Does it ? " asked Brandon, sarcastically. 
 
 " Well," innocently replied Hope, " we must tell 
 the Governor to get a better law." 
 
 " Easier said than done ! " muttered Bailey, with 
 bitterness. 
 
 " But I 'm sure Sir William will do what he can 
 to help us, and he 's a great man with the king." 
 
 " Better for you to let the Navigation Act be as it 
 is, neighbor," said Brandon. 
 
 " Better ! " exclaimed Hope, puzzled by Brandon's 
 apparent versatility. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What do you mean ? Just now you was saying 
 that — " 
 
 u Hold, friend ! Repeal the Navigation Act, and 
 you 'd get sixpence a pound. ' The Lord preserve 
 you from sixpence a pound ! ' you know. How 
 hardly shall they that have riches — " 
 
 and emasculated by the very act of emigration ; that thenceforth they 
 were fit only to be hewers of wood and drawers of water for her from 
 whom they had gone out. This prompted her to the oppression of 
 those whom nature, common sense, and Christianity required her to 
 cherish. She persisted in her doctrine and in her oppression, until her 
 "mischief returned upon her own head, and her violent dealing came 
 down on her own pate." The blow displaced the brightest jewel of her 
 crown. 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 367 
 
 The three had fallen a little in the rear of their 
 companions, but were now arrested in their progress 
 by the halt of the others, who blocked up the narrow 
 footpath. Perceiving a look of inquiry in their faces, 
 Brandon suspended his sentence, and asked what was 
 the matter. 
 
 " It 's Robert Hen's house," replied one. " We are 
 wondering that he has not come out. He 's going to 
 church, I know ; for he 'd be on his way to Northum- 
 berland County. He 's going to be herdsman to a 
 planter there." 
 
 Robert Hen had been a servant, but had worked 
 out his indentures with credit to himself. His mas- 
 ter, as was customary with the planters, had allowed 
 him a little patch of ground for his own behoof. 
 This he had patiently cultivated during the years of 
 his service, in those hours of ordinary days, and on 
 Saturday afternoons, when the custom of the country 
 did not exact labor for the master. Year after year, 
 he had raised his little parcel of tobacco, and carefully 
 husbanded or invested its proceeds. A breeding pig 
 and a heifer, which had freely herded with his mas- 
 ter's, had prettily increased ; so that he had a little 
 live stock and a few farming tools to begin life with 
 on his own account. Besides, there was a buxom 
 dairy-maid on his master's plantation who had not 
 said, " No " ; and her time of service was nearly out. 
 So honest Robert had just taken up,* as by law he 
 had a right to do, an unpatented lot of fifty acres by 
 
 * The enormous grants to Culpepper and Arlington — of which more 
 hereafter — could not prevent new occupations of land by resolute men. 
 Besides, at this date, the transaction was not universally known among 
 the frontier-men, or at best was vaguely understood. 
 
368 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the river, and had built for himself — and Susan — a 
 snug log cottage. Just now, he had an opportunity 
 to turn his time to good profit by serving Mr. 
 T. M., — nobody knows anything of his name but 
 its initials. So he had arranged to leave the trifling 
 affairs of his cabin in charge of a young lad, until 
 Susan and the parson should be ready ; when his 
 master was to present him — as was usual upon a 
 servant's discharge — with ten bushels of corn, two 
 new suits of clothes, and a gun. 
 
 The rude chimney and the ridge of his house were 
 but just discernible by the party through the branches 
 of the trees. After a little silent waiting, one of them 
 gave a loud halloo. . But the call died away in the 
 forest without an answer. 
 
 " I will go and find him," said Brandon ; and he 
 immediately advanced through the trees in the di- 
 rection of the cottage. In a few moments his call 
 was heard, in tones of such distress and terror, that 
 every man started instantly, and with rushing speed. 
 They found Brandon in the door-way of the humble 
 dwelling, on one knee, and supporting against his 
 shoulder the mangled and ghastly body of Robert 
 Hen. An Indian lay dead upon the threshold, and 
 both were shockingly wounded on their heads, arms, 
 and other parts of their persons. 
 
 " There is life in him yet," said Brandon ; " let us 
 save him if we can." 
 
 Some attempt was made to revive the dying man, 
 but it was too late. Robert's eyes were fast glazing. 
 He seemed conscious, however, that friends were pres- 
 ent, for he slightly pressed the hand of Brandon. 
 
 " Robert ! Robert ! " he exclaimed, " who has done 
 this?" 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 369 
 
 The man made two or three ineffectual attempts to 
 reply ; but at last he articulated in a whisper, " Doegs ! 
 Doegs ! " and expired. This was the name of a tribe, 
 or small family, of Indians in the neighboring county 
 of Northumberland. 
 
 A noise from the interior of the house now startled 
 the party. Brandon dropped the corpse, which he 
 was still supporting, and sprang to his feet, while all 
 receded a few steps from the door, where they stood 
 together, waiting resolutely, though unarmed. The 
 alarm, however, was but for a moment, for there ap- 
 peared only the lad with whom poor Robert was to 
 have placed in charge his little home. He was pale 
 as ashes ; and no sooner did he perceive the group 
 without, than he leaped frantically over the dead 
 bodies before him, and sank fainting on the ground. 
 As soon as he recovered, he informed the party that 
 he had been woke about daybreak by an outcry from 
 Robert, whom he found standing in the door-way, 
 defending himself with a hatchet against a number 
 of Indians, one of whom was lying almost lifeless 
 at his feet ; that he had hidden himself beneath the 
 bed, where he had remained half dead with terror, 
 until he heard the, voices of Brandon and his com- 
 panions.* 
 
 The death of Opechancanough had proved the 
 death of the Powhattan confederacy. The thirty 
 tribes, severed, dispersed, and conscious of their 
 weakness, had usually remained quiet upon their 
 new fields and hunting-grounds without annoyance 
 to the English. So long had this continued, that the 
 
 * T. M.'s Account. 
 
370 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 restrictions upon intercourse which were imposed in 
 the time of Necotowance had been practically an- 
 nulled ; the Indians now traded at " stated marts " 
 with the English, and had "free intercourse with the 
 people of all the counties." Some depredations had 
 been committed upon the property of the border set- 
 tlements, but the resident Indians had disavowed 
 all share therein, and their disavowal had been sat- 
 isfactory. The murder of Robert Hen was the first 
 shedding of English blood which had occurred for 
 many years, and, as we shall see, it had important 
 results. 
 
 Great, therefore, was the commotion at the little 
 church in the woods, when his mangled corpse, brought 
 thither on a rude litter, was laid before the chancel. 
 But no sooner had the rustic congregation heard the 
 manner in which one of their number — a favorite 
 with all who knew him — had met his death, than 
 their consternation gave place to wrath. It was with 
 difficulty that they could be restrained within the 
 bounds of decorum during the solemn service for the 
 dead ; but when they came to commit dust to dust, 
 and thought of the wreck of manliness and manly 
 hope which had been wrought, and witnessed the 
 dumb and stony agony of the orphan who stood 
 there in a strange land beside the grave of her be- 
 trothed, — they swore. Not noisily, not wildly, but 
 in those stern, subdued tones which belong to strong 
 men resolute, they swore to avenge the blood of Rob- 
 ert and the breaking heart of the maiden. They 
 kept their oath. 
 
 Intelligence of the tragedy had in the mean time 
 been sent to Colonel Mason and Captain Brent, who 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 371 
 
 lived a few miles down the river. The news spread 
 rapidly. The hardy planters rallied ; and soon Mason 
 and Brent, with a small body of men under their com- 
 mand, sped upon the trail of the murderers. After 
 passing twenty miles up the river, and four miles 
 across it within the bounds of Maryland, the party 
 under Brent attacked a cabin occupied by the Doeg 
 Indians, and slew the chief and ten of his men. Those 
 under Mason were doing the work of revenge at an- 
 other cabin, a little way off. Having slaughtered 
 fourteen, the Colonel, to his great consternation and 
 grief, found that he was assailing a party of Susque- 
 hannah Indians, who were friendly to the Virginians. 
 He instantly called upon his men, in God's name, to 
 desist. This part of the expedition was an unfortu- 
 nate affair* 
 
 In the previous year, 1674, the Dutch government 
 
 * For the particulars of this occurrence, and also of the murder of 
 Eobert Hen, I depend upon T. M.'s Account, in Force, Vol. I. His nar- 
 rative, to which I shall frequently refer, was addressed to Hon. Eobert 
 Harley, Secretary of State and one of her Majesty's Privy Council. It 
 was drawn up at his request, from memory, and is dated July 13, 1705, 
 thirty years after the occurrences which it relates. T. M. was a member 
 of the House of Burgesses in Virginia in 1676. His position in society, 
 his personal interviews with Bacon, the chief actor in the events which 
 he relates, and his being an eyewitness of some of them, render his ac- 
 count, together with its dispassionate simplicity, worthy of the highest 
 confidence. The original manuscript was purchased, at the sale of a 
 bookseller's effects, by Mr. King, our Minister in London, in 1803, and 
 by him sent to Mr. Jefferson, then our Chief Magistrate. 
 
 I have also before me a very rare anonymous tract, printed in London 
 in 1677, entitled " Strange News from Virginia." It represents the 
 transactions of 1676 in Virginia as owing solely to the wanton ambition 
 and desperate fortune of a conceited man. Beverly's account also repre- 
 sents Bacon as influenced only by a "seditious humor." The wrong 
 done to his memory by those two writers will perhaps appear in the 
 following pages. 
 
372 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 had made a final cession of New York to the English, 
 The Dutch had long sustained a valuable traffic in 
 furs with the Indians living at the head of the Chesa- 
 peake Bay, who used yearly to pass southward to 
 hunt and to purchase skins, ranging in their course 
 along the western frontier of Virginia. The English 
 traders, who had occupied New York most of the 
 time for ten years before its cession, covetous of the 
 valuable fur-trade, and reckless of the laws of frater- 
 nity, had inspired these Indians first with jealousy, 
 and then with hatred, towards the Virginians, who 
 had shared in the benefits of the traffic. The depre- 
 dations upon border property which have been men- 
 tioned had been committed probably by these travel- 
 ling parties. But they were now roused to more se- 
 rious aggressions, and began to spill blood both in 
 Virginia and in Maryland as they passed to and fro ; 
 and soon after the affair of Mason and Brent — doubt- 
 less a provoking cause — murders became frequent. 
 The Indians who were in treaty with Virginia had 
 not given notice of the approach of these enemies, nor 
 had they done anything to deter them, as by treaty 
 they were bound to do. This roused the jealousy of 
 the whites, who, under the excitement caused by the 
 assassinations of their neighbors, and without suffi- 
 cient evidence, were led to adjudge the friendly tribes 
 as accomplices, and were ready to fall upon them 
 upon the least pretence. The Marylanders had al- 
 ready engaged in open hostilities with the Piscataway 
 Indians and with the Susquehannahs, both of them 
 tribes at peace with Virginia. The latter, driven from 
 their homes by the Senecas, had sought shelter in a 
 fort of the Piscataways, near the head of the Poto- 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 373 
 
 mac* This fort was besieged by the Marylanders not 
 long after the murder of Robert Hen and the action of 
 Mason and Brent. It stood on a low, swampy spot, 
 its walls consisting of high banks of earth. At each 
 angle was an abutment furnished with loopholes, and 
 commanding all approach upon the entire line of each 
 diverging wall. At the base, and around the whole 
 fort, was a ditch, broad, deep, and filled with water. 
 Without this ditch was a strong palisade formed of 
 young trees from five to eight inches in diameter, 
 sunk some three feet or more in the earth, and about 
 eight or ten feet in height. Through apertures in 
 this palisade, the Indians could do execution upon 
 any assailants, as well as through those in the abut- 
 ments. An approaching party must, therefore, sustain 
 a fire directly in front, and, when at the foot of the 
 palisades, could be raked on either flank. The strength 
 of the structure itself, the insecure, boggy footing 
 without, and the facilities for defensive operations, 
 forbade all hope of carrying it by storm, except at great 
 loss.f The Maryland infantry, having no cannon, had 
 undertaken to reduce it by siege. The Indians before 
 long had become straitened for food, and had con- 
 trived to evade the careless sentries of the English so 
 often, as to have stolen away and devoured nearly all 
 the horses of those who had ridden thither. Besides, 
 they had made so frequent sallies, and with such spirit, 
 that scarce a day passed when their besiegers did not 
 seriously suffer. :£ Under these circumstances, the 
 
 * T. M.'s Account, 9; "Mrs. An. Cotton's Account of our Late 
 Troubles in Virginia," 3, — in Force, Vol. I. 
 t T. M.'s Account, 10. 
 
 % The Burwell Narrative, 5, — a paper of the time, in Force, Vol. I. 
 32 
 
374 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Marylanders sent to Virginia for a reinforcement. A 
 body of men was according sent, under command of 
 Colonel John Washington.* When these arrived, 
 the Indians had begun to be seriously pinched for 
 want of food, and were also disturbed by seeing their 
 professed friends sit down in league with their ene- 
 mies. Both of these circumstances inclined them 
 to confer with the English for peace ; and on this 
 errand they sent out six f of their chief men. These 
 were immediately seized by the " two commanders," 
 and put to death. This unaccountable treatment of 
 an embassy for peace roused the fainting Indians to 
 desperate fury. They made fierce and bloody sallies, 
 and when offered parley gave no other answer than 
 " Where are our great men ? " " At the end of six 
 weeks " — from the commencement of the siege ? — 
 the remaining Indians, being seventy-five warriors, be- 
 sides women and children, having destroyed every- 
 thing within the fort which could be of value, slipped 
 through the lines of their enemies " in the darke " ; $ 
 as they passed, knocking out the brains of ten Eng- 
 lishmen, whom they found asleep. 
 
 On their retreat over the heads of the Rappahannock, 
 York, and James rivers, they plucked sixty scalps from 
 the plantations on the outskirts. They then sent a 
 remonstrance to Sir William Berkeley, demanding 
 why he had taken up arms against them, contrary to 
 
 * He was a member of the House of Burgesses, and the great-grand- 
 father of George Washington. Cotton's Account, 3 ; Campbell, 81. 
 
 t So say Cotton's Account and the Burwell Narrative. T. M. says 
 four. 
 
 % Cotton's Account ; more probable than T. M.'s, which says, " by 
 moonlight past our guards, hallowing and firing att them without oppo- 
 sition." 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 375 
 
 their league ; " declaring their sorrow to see the Vir- 
 ginians, of friends to becom such violent enimies as 
 to persue the Chase in to another's dominions " ; 
 complaining that their messengers of peace were not 
 only knocked on the head, but the fact countenanced 
 by the Governor ; saying that they had ' ; killed ten for 
 one of the Virginians, such being the disperportion 
 between there grate men murthered, and those by 
 them slane " ; and adding, that, if he chose to con- 
 sider the account balanced, to let the matter rest 
 here, and to renew "the ancient league of amity," 
 well ; " otherways they and those whom they had 
 ingaged to their intress [interest] were resolved to 
 fite it out to the last man." These overtures were 
 rejected. The Indians, therefore, drew into their 
 league others, who had hitherto lived peaceably in 
 the neighborhood of the frontier, and immediately 
 commenced a determined war. The whites were 
 attacked in their fields by day, in their dwellings by 
 night, or captured by ambuscades as they ventured 
 through the forests. Soon, not a day passed without 
 bloodshed. 
 
 The border planters were terrified ; not only because 
 they found themselves attacked suddenly by a resolute 
 and stealthy enemy, but by one who seemed even 
 unusually stimulated to cruelty. White men, in un- 
 guarded moments, were captured by the prowling 
 savages, taken before the doors of their lonely cabins ; 
 one by one, the nails were torn from their hands and 
 feet ; one by one, their teeth were wrenched from their 
 jaws ; their eyes were rooted from their sockets ; and 
 slowly, little by little, from crown to heel, the skin of 
 each helpless victim was peeled from the bounding 
 
376 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 flesh. If then the heart still beat, he was left to 
 die.* 
 
 Such a warfare was horrible. And when, as they 
 often did, the English scouts discovered such a corpse 
 where they went to find a living friend, the most 
 sturdy and iron-nerved men would pale and sicken. 
 The Virginians were appalled. Many of the more 
 exposed plantations were strewed with the dead, or 
 deserted by the living. Seldom was a cabin burned 
 or a crop destroyed. The Indians seemed bent only 
 upon death. The people were compelled, for mutual 
 safety, to crowd together, — two, three, four families 
 in a house, which they would fortify as well as they 
 were able. No man crossed the threshold without his 
 gun. They tilled their several fields in bands, going 
 first to one, then to another, their weapons by their 
 sides, and their sentinels around them.f 
 
 Of course, information of these atrocities was sent 
 to Jamestown, and the aid of the Governor was im- 
 plored. The messages were answered by promises. 
 Sir William had, indeed, sent Sir Henry Chichely, 
 the Lieutenant-Governor, against the Indians, with 
 five hundred men ; but he had also, mysteriously and 
 suddenly, recalled them in the midst of their march. 
 By his order also, or at least with his approbation, 
 eight rude forts were constructed and manned along 
 the border, which the Indians laughed at. A body of 
 rangers would have proved protective, but stationary 
 forces were easily evaded. Instead of being a benefit 
 to the planters by making them safer or quieter, they 
 were a new evil. The Indians levied upon their lives 
 
 * Burwell Narrative, 7. t T. M., 10. 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 377 
 
 none the less ; the garrisons levied upon their scanty 
 property the more. The people petitioned for their 
 removal. But no. A British governor-royal could not 
 have erred in judgment! Or, if he had, it would be 
 derogatory to his station to acknowledge it ; doubly 
 so, to undo a deed to please the vulgar or spare their 
 purse. So had the favorite of the people changed, 
 and so had their condition changed, since thirteen 
 years ago ! Now he was their lord. 
 
 The people became indignant ; not the people upon 
 the belt of country along the river-heads only, but the 
 whole people, — for the blood of the Virginian in 
 Jamestown or Accomac boiled within him when he 
 heard that the blood of the borderer was shed, — and 
 he was yet more excited when it was said, " The bor- 
 derer is unaided and oppressed." If one member 
 suffered, all the members suffered with it. With lit- 
 tle exception, there was but one heart in Virginia, — 
 and it ached. 
 
 But border war was not her only affliction. In 
 1669, the king had made a grant to Lord Culpepper 
 of all territory lying between the Rappahannock and 
 the Potomac. Early in 1673, he had granted to Cul- 
 pepper and the Earl of Arlington, their executors, ad- 
 ministrators, and assigns, the entire territory and do- 
 minion of Virginia for thirty-one years ; making them 
 lords proprietary of all the domain, and vesting in 
 them all quitrents, duties, and escheats, — to be paid 
 in specie, and not in commodity. These grants covered 
 not only wild lands, but plantations long occupied, 
 improved, and owned under the previous charters of 
 the colony. As soon as these grants began to be put 
 in execution in Virginia, in 1674, they naturally pro- 
 
 32* 
 
378 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 duced great commotion ; for no one knew whether he 
 had safe title to his own plantation. It was but an 
 ungracious return, the people thought, for all their 
 generous loyalty to the king in the years of his exile 
 and distress. Partial insurrections had taken place ; 
 but, having been without concert and without a com- 
 petent head, they had been easily subdued. The As- 
 sembly had immediately sent commissioners to re- 
 monstrate with the king, to solicit a modification or 
 a purchase of the grants, and "to procure a more 
 perfect charter and constitution for Virginia." This 
 embassy involved great expense, — for nothing could 
 be effected at the court of Charles II. without enor- 
 mous bribes, — and created the necessity of special 
 and heavy taxes upon the people, who had now 
 waited a whole year without any encouragement from 
 their commissioners. 
 
 But neither were border war and unrighteous grants 
 the only afflictions of Virginia. The Assembly which 
 had been convened in 1662, and elected for the term 
 of two years, had not yet been dissolved. Conse- 
 quently, the people had been deprived, during thirteen 
 years, of the right of electing representatives. When 
 vacancies had occurred, they had indeed gone to the 
 polls ; but false returns of the elections had been made 
 by the sheriffs. In addition to this, a majority of the 
 people had lost all right of sum-age by a law passed in 
 1670, that "none but freeholders and housekeepers 
 should thereafter have a voice in the election of any 
 burgesses." Thus the people were disfranchised. 
 The right of representation, so long and so resolutely 
 cherished by the Virginians, was rifled. County offi- 
 cers and parish officers, in whose appointment they 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 379 
 
 had no voice, arbitrarily laid the taxes in their respec- 
 tive districts ; while even the power of levying the 
 colonial taxes had been resigned by the Burgesses to 
 the Governor and Council. 
 
 But neither were border war, and grants of territory, 
 and the loss of representation, with its consequences 
 of arbitrary taxation and irresponsible officials, the 
 only afflictions of Virginia. The taxes themselves 
 were grievous. The impoverishing operation of the 
 Navigation Act we have brought to view. It had 
 advanced a step beyond what has been stated, for the 
 trade between the colonies themselves was taxed. 
 There was also a tax upon the curing of fish, and a 
 tax upon all exports as well as imports. The people 
 were taxed for forts to enforce the Navigation Act; 
 as, in England, men were condemned to be hung, 
 and to pay forty shillings for the operation. They 
 were taxed for useless forts on the frontiers. They 
 were taxed for the very large salary of the Governor. 
 They were taxed for the wages of the Burgesses. 
 They were taxed for the expenses of their commis- 
 sioners in England. They were taxed for the emolu- 
 ments of eight justices of the peace in each county, 
 and by the justices at will.* They were taxed by the 
 parish officers, also at will.f The amounts of the 
 three last-named taxes were often fraudulently used, 
 or wholly absorbed by useless officials, or shared by 
 
 * Bland's letter to Berne, in Burk, II., Appendix. 
 
 t The Governor's salary was £1,200, or about 150,000 pounds of to- 
 bacco. Campbell, 79, compared with Bancroft, II. 206, note. The wages 
 of the Burgesses were 8,750 pounds of tobacco per diem; equivalent to 
 about nine or ten dollars a day for each Burgess, — calculating from the 
 statement in Bland's letter to Berne, in Burk. II. 248, and on the suppo- 
 
380 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 those who farmed them of the government. Besides, 
 there were often taxes for gifts voted by the Assembly 
 "to the Governor and other great men." All the 
 taxes were laid by the poll, " whereby the poorer sort 
 were in the heaviest condition, who, having nothing 
 but their labor to maintain themselves, wives, and 
 children, paid as deeply to the public as he that had 
 twenty thousand acres." To a people thus oppressed, 
 it was peculiarly irritating that members of the Coun- 
 cil were exempted from all these burdens, and that the 
 royal quitrents, instead of having been applied to the 
 benefit of the colony, had been given away for a term 
 of years to one Colonel Norwood. The direct taxa- 
 tion, in general, was sufficiently proper in its objects. 
 Its oppressiveness consisted partly in its excessive 
 amount, but chiefly in the comparative worthless- 
 ness of the common currency, induced by the Navi- 
 gation Act. 
 
 Are obstinacy and avarice besetting sins of old 
 age ? Sir William Berkeley was old. Why did he 
 neglect to furnish efficient military aid to the fron- 
 tier-men in their terrible necessity ? His obstinacy — 
 we may add, his aristocratic pride — was apparent in 
 his refusal to withdraw the garrisons. But had the 
 high-minded Cavalier become avaricious ? The rec- 
 ords said, that, thirteen years before, he had virtually 
 obtained a monopoly of the lucrative trade with the 
 Indians in furs, and popular rumor said that this kept 
 
 sition of thirty-five Burgesses, and tobacco at twopence a pound, rather 
 more than it was worth. 
 
 The taxes for the Commissioners were one hundred pounds of to- 
 bacco per poll, and from thirty to seventy pounds of tobacco upon every 
 unsuccessful suitor in the courts. Beverly, 66 ; Hildreth, I. 525. 
 
FRONTIER LIFE. 381 
 
 him from authorizing hostilities against them. It 
 added, also, that he had an eye to the confiscations 
 which would fill his coffers, should the colonists ven- 
 ture upon unauthorized hostilities. But however this 
 may have been, he did nothing in behalf of the perish- 
 ing, and the Indians still perpetrated their atrocities. 
 The sufferers had petitioned for relief, and had been 
 answered only with promises. They then petitioned 
 that they themselves might march against the savages ; 
 they offered to go as volunteers ; they offered to go, 
 poor as they were, at their own charges; but the 
 Governor resented and rejected their offers.* Useless 
 and burdensome garrisons, a sham expedition, and 
 days of public fasting and humiliation, were his only 
 measures for protection. The people went to church 
 armed ; they went to court armed ; they went to 
 work armed ; they went to bed armed ; but they 
 might not go against the Indians armed. Civil dis- 
 abilities and impositions had galled them to a degree 
 which would have vented itself before in open insur- 
 rection, but for their long-established habits of loyalty. 
 Now, under the pressure of a merciless war, they be- 
 gan to take counsel of their natural instincts. Com- 
 mon wrongs and common peril were ripening common 
 sympathy. The people came together, here, there, 
 wherever they could. They talked. They counted 
 their grievances. The gatherings were more fre- 
 quent, more tumultuous, more grave, and more 
 stimulating, and the portentous mutterings of des- 
 peration began to be heard, from the heads of the 
 rivers to the eastern shore. 
 
 * Breviarie and Conclusion, in Burk, II. 250, — a paper of the day. 
 Campbell, 80. 
 
382 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Grants which undermined whole plantations ; the 
 loss of suffrage and the loss of representation ; grind- 
 ing taxation ; impoverishing commercial restrictions ; 
 and a fiendish, skulking enemy whom they were for- 
 bidden to drive away, — such were the causes of the 
 events to be narrated. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 
 
 Within some few miles of the Falls of 
 James River was one of the most inviting 
 plantations in all Virginia. Its western portion was 
 undulating, and covered with a forest of pine, oak, 
 hickory, locust, chestnut, &c, where deer browsed 
 and wild-fowl brooded their young. From its east- 
 ern portion, where the dwelling of the owner stood, 
 the forest had been cleared away, and its fields were 
 mottled with the various crops usually raised by an 
 ambitious planter of ample means. It terminated on 
 the eastward in a broad meadow, lying upon a gen- 
 erous and fertilizing stream. 
 
 In a small apartment of the mansion, which, though 
 of but one story, was of spacious dimensions, sat a 
 young mother, whose appearance denoted at once that 
 she had been familiar with more polished life than 
 belonged to the wilds of Virginia. Her complexion, 
 her features, and her dress were such as mark the 
 educated and refined woman. The outline of her 
 form was pleasing in its proportions, and indicated 
 health. There was an intent vigor in the manner in 
 which she plied her needle, in the nervous but regular 
 cadence of her foot as she rocked the cradle of her 
 little one, and in the quick, eager way in which she 
 occasionally looked out upon the lawn, which be- 
 
384 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 trayed unusual energy of character. There were un- 
 mistakable marks of mind and refinement around her, 
 as well as in her person and costume. The furniture 
 of the room, though not rich, was adapted to comfort, 
 and in good taste. There were some little elegances 
 here and there, such as a true woman likes to collect 
 around her ; a few choice engravings upon the wall, 
 and they were classical designs too ; a small but 
 beautiful painting of Hagar and Abraham, in a posi- 
 tion to catch the best light ; a few small books upon 
 the table, and some hundred or two ranged soberly 
 within a small alcove. Some of them had a law-look 
 about them. The young mother herself seemed to be 
 about twenty-two or twenty-three years of age. 
 
 How did such a one as she happen to stray to Vir- 
 ginia, and find a home on a frontier swarming with 
 hostile savages ? The question is easily answered. 
 She was a captive. She had been carefully reared 
 and educated in England by the fondest of parents, 
 who were just beginning to find a precious reward for 
 their care and anxiety in the cheering companionship 
 which her opening mind afforded them, when she was 
 suddenly torn from their protection, and consigned to 
 bonds from which only death could free her. She 
 wept sorely when she was taken on shipboard ; but 
 there was not one in the wide world who would lift a 
 finger to restore her to the home of her girlhood. In 
 such a place as London, to say nothing of rural dis- 
 tricts, there are always to be found young men who 
 think but little of the susceptibility of hearts which 
 have beat two score years or more, and go about 
 plundering old people's treasures, because, forsooth ! 
 their own hearts are young. I wonder how they can ; 
 
THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 385 
 
 for I am old and gray now, and know how pass- 
 ing value is a filial child. — Tut ! Our story is about 
 Marion and Nathanael Bacon! This young gentle- 
 man, now less than thirty years of age, was of a good 
 family in the county of Suffolk, in England ; had re- 
 ceived a liberal education ; " to his title of Gentle- 
 man, by his long study at the Inns of Court, had 
 added that of Esquire " ; and had travelled freely 
 upon the European continent.* His natural talents, 
 particularly his powers of elocution, were brilliant. 
 With such endowments, to which were added a win- 
 ning address, a manly figure, and prepossessing fea- 
 tures, he was a prince among the class of young men 
 who hoodwink fathers and mothers to steal away 
 
 their daughters. Marion was not proof against 
 
 his winning ways and noble heart. She vowed away 
 her life to him at the altar, turned from those who had 
 borne and cherished her, and went with him to the 
 wilderness. Such had been the opening fortune of 
 Marion Bacon. 
 
 And now she sat in her Virginia home alone, ex- 
 cept the sleeping treasure in the cradle, which she 
 wished she could show to those who had cradled her. 
 The wish woke up Memory, who whispered a score 
 of bygones in her ear ; telling her so tenderly about 
 some little gift, or indulgence, or self-sacrifice, or 
 gentle voice, or fond smile, of that old and dateless 
 love she had left behind, that she covered her face 
 and wept, — not sorrowfully, but lovingly, as young 
 wives often do, when the freshness of wedded life has 
 passed. Suddenly she started to her feet, noiselessly 
 
 * Strange News. 
 S3 
 
386 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 too, for the babe's sake, and dashed away her tears. 
 She had heard the trampling of hoofs. Home, and 
 girlhood, and father, and mother were forgotten. 
 She saw her husband alight, and with a bounding 
 step and a face of sunshine she welcomed him to 
 her arms. 
 
 " Tears, Marion ! " as he kissed her brow. 
 
 " And gladness. Tears will come sometimes, when 
 I think of England. Besides, what wife on the bor- 
 der, when her husband returns safe, can refuse to God 
 the offering of a tear? But what have you to tell 
 me?" 
 
 " No help and no hope from Jamestown. The 
 Governor's Council are disagreed, and disaffection is 
 spreading in the lower counties ; but Sir William 
 stoutly declares, that he will not be dictated to by 
 those whom he is commissioned to govern." 
 
 " And the people ? " 
 
 " Are as stoutly determined as he. I have mingled 
 freely with them, you know. But I have been a lis- 
 tener and an observer only, not a speaker. I wished 
 to study their temper, — whether they were moved by 
 fickle passion, or by that honorable and manly pur- 
 pose which may be relied on."* 
 
 " And you think them, what ? " 
 
 " Men. Rough, most of them, and very ignorant, 
 except of their rights and their wrongs, but sturdy 
 and resolute to defend their families." 
 
 " But it will be called treason, or rebellion." 
 
 " Marion ! they have borne oppression, and borne 
 it, and borne it, in this shape, and in that shape, 
 
 * Burk, II. 159. 
 
THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 387 
 
 rather than seem disloyal. But to sit still and be mur- 
 dered, — that passes loyalty, and reason, and nature, 
 and the law of Heaven. They will bear no longer. 
 They might have kept quiet, and only groaned, had 
 it not been for this refusal of protection against the 
 Indians. Many are ready to leave the colony, rather 
 than stay and be thus exposed, pinioned, to savage 
 butchery. But they cannot.* When men are driven 
 to the wall, they will fight. And I assure you that 
 when we fight, and fight we shall, it will not be 
 against the Indians only, but for our stolen rights. 
 We will scour the forests, and drive the savages from 
 the frontier ; and then, with arms in our hands, will 
 demand the restoration of our freedom. Treason ! 
 rebellion ! It may be so interpreted. But when a 
 people, always loyal, loyal to this very hour, first rise 
 only for the defence of their wives and little ones, 
 and then demand only the restoration of what the 
 crown has given, but the crown's trustee has stolen, 
 't is no treason, no rebellion, child ! If such be trea- 
 son, I '11 be a loyal traitor, but never a free-born 
 Briton slave ! " 
 
 " It is a serious affair," said the wife, gravely ; "we 
 must count the cost." 
 
 " Yes, my love, it is a serious affair, and we will 
 count the cost. Thank God! I have a wife who 
 will help me, by her counsels, her fearlessness, and 
 her prayers. Look you, Marion! The people will 
 rise. They must have a leader, or they will be scat- 
 tered like sheep. Shall your husband lead them ? " 
 
 " I knew it! I knew it!" she exclaimed, "because 
 
 * Burwell Narrative, 8. 
 
388 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION, 
 
 you said they are men. They would not be, did they 
 not know that my husband has not his equal in Vir- 
 ginia." 
 
 Bacon smiled, not only at her words, but at read- 
 ing the pride, defiance, and gladness which she uncon- 
 sciously betrayed in her voice, her features, and her 
 attitude. Marion Bacon was not the only woman 
 whose husband, in her eyes, has been the man of 
 men. 
 
 " But the cost, Marion ! the cost ! You said we 
 must count the cost." 
 
 " Yes. I '11 count the cost." 
 
 " But please remember, you and I have nothing to 
 gain." 
 
 " Wait ! First, the cost. We may lose our for- 
 tune, of which, God be thanked ! he has given 
 us enough. We may lose the fortune which you 
 would inherit from your uncle. We may lose each 
 other, for I know well that Indian warfare is no 
 boys' play; and that governors, if they catch those 
 whom they call rebels, have no tender mercies. You 
 are honored with a seat in the Council. You are 
 esteemed by all who know you. We cannot rise 
 higher.* All this we may lose. But if Nathanael 
 Bacon will give himself to shield the mothers and 
 children of Virginia from the tomahawk, and to re- 
 deem the rights of freemen, Marion Bacon will give 
 Nathanael. If God decrees the cost, let it come. 
 We will say, Amen ! " 
 
 " Noble woman ! " 
 
 " Wait a moment longer. I am going to reckon 
 
 * Burk, II. 160. 
 
THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 389 
 
 gain. You will gain the gratitude and prayers of the 
 unprotected. You will gain the satisfaction of mak- 
 ing a noble effort, and risking a noble sacrifice, for 
 freedom. That is enough. And if God grant suc- 
 cess, that will be a gain we cannot estimate." 
 
 " Marion ! if it be a duty to engage in this affair, 
 I can give my heart to it, and stake my fortunes. 
 But, seriously, I consider the issue doubtful. Will 
 Sir William yield to what he calls the clamor of a 
 rabble, and authorize an expedition ? If not, the 
 people will go without authority. This may rouse 
 him to some measure which will lead to an open 
 quarrel. If so, the civil rights of the people will not 
 be recovered, I fear, without a bloody struggle, if at 
 all. In such a case, you see what will be my posi- 
 tion, if I head this movement." 
 
 " I do. On the other hand, ' to him that knoweth 
 to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.' " 
 
 " What do you mean ? That sounds like a quota- 
 tion." 
 
 Marion smiled, rather sadly though, and replied : 
 16 You should read your Bible more, Nathanael. 
 Like your namesake whom our Saviour commended, 
 you are ' without guile ' ; but I fear me you do not 
 search the Scripture so well as he." 
 
 " Bible ! Scripture ! Marion, do you mean to say 
 that those words are in the Bible ? Say them again." 
 
 " No, my love, St. James shall say them to you 
 himself." 
 
 She opened a Bible, which he himself had given 
 her, and pointed out the words. He read them in 
 silence. He seemed disturbed ; for he rose and 
 walked the room for some minutes, absorbed in 
 
 33* 
 
390 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 thought, and without a glance at his wife. At 
 length he stopped, and said, with a deep inspiration 
 and an emphatic gesture: " Marion! God's word is 
 a two-edged sword ! " 
 
 " Is that a quotation ? " 
 
 " Quotation ! No. It is out of the depths of my 
 heart, — a fresh and earnest conviction." 
 
 " No, Nathanael ! It is something which your 
 mother planted there years ago. Look here ! " and 
 she showed him the words in the Bible. 
 
 He started, seated himself by her side again, and 
 said very deliberately : " How long can a thing be for- 
 gotten and yet remembered? Thousands and thou- 
 sands of our words and deeds, — perhaps all, — we 
 call them gone. But instead of being gone, they have 
 only gone to sleep awhile within us ; to wake up by 
 and by, and mutter, and knock, and put on very dis- 
 agreeable — But that other text ! What a book the 
 Bible is ! If a man does bad, it is sin ; and if he dorCt 
 do good, it is sin. Poor chance for one who can only 
 say, ' I 've not done any one harm ' ! So, I know that 
 I can do good, — save my neighbors' lives, that is ; 
 and if I doriH do it, I sin ! Is that your meaning ? " 
 
 " St. James's." 
 
 " I see ! It 's just as though I saw a savage raise 
 his tomahawk over a woman's head, and did not in- 
 terfere. Yet he might make you a widow." 
 
 " If you know that you can be a shield to the de- 
 fenceless, be so, and in God's name. If a spear pierce 
 the shield, and mine own soul also, be it so. The sin 
 is his who speeds the spear. I trust in God." 
 
 " Marion ! You are a heroine, certainly ; and a bit 
 of a casuist, or philosopher, or something of the sort." 
 
THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 391 
 
 " In this I only follow my master. Nathanael! I 
 am a Christian." 
 
 The words were spoken so softly, so humbly, yet 
 so earnestly, that they conveyed to his mind, unin- 
 tended by her, a keen rebuke. 
 
 " So you are, Marion ! I call myself one ; but if I 
 am, I lag behind you amazingly ! More of this an- 
 other time. It seems I must n't 'not do.' Now, 
 how shall I do ? " 
 
 " Do good ; and do good — well." 
 
 " Now, you are an oracle. But I have your mean- 
 ing: you would have me discreet, not rash. I will 
 tell you what or how I propose to do. There has 
 been no open demand by the people for my services. 
 But there will be. I shall comply. But I will do my 
 best to obtain Sir William's consent. He has some 
 respect for me, or I should not be of his Council. I 
 shall address him with all courtesy and deference, 
 which I hope may prevail with him to grant me a 
 commission. Then, so far as action against the In- 
 dians is concerned, I cannot be charged with acting 
 illegally. But before arms are laid aside, there must 
 be some talk about freemen's rights. Do you ap- 
 prove ? " 
 
 " One step at a time. Consider the next, when 
 that is taken. Yes ; for the first step, I approve." 
 
 " Well, Marion ! that 's settled. I must see to mat- 
 ters on the plantation now. I came to you for coun- 
 sel, and I 've had a Bible lesson." 
 
 " Both." 
 
 " Yes, both ; and both good." 
 
 " If my husband comes to me for counsel, he must 
 go with me where I get it. The Bible is a more mi- 
 nute directory than most men think it is." 
 
392 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " Upon my word ! I begin to think so. But, Ma- 
 rion, it 's very strait ! That ' doeth it not ' ! Ac- 
 cording to those words, most men who are very relig- 
 ious in their way go to church with a huge train of 
 sins behind them ! " 
 
 " O, don't begin to inspect other folks." 
 
 " I '11 say one thing about other folks. Most of our 
 parsons would preach better, and behave better, if they 
 would come to school to you, and take lessons out of 
 the Bible. Kiss me." 
 
 And so they parted for the time. 
 
 " God ! I thank thee," the husband exclaimed de- 
 voutly, as he walked out upon his ample grounds, 
 " that, in giving me this woman, thou hast given me 
 — a wife ! Character, sense, ready to give counsel, 
 brings a man face up to the Bible, — so gently and 
 modestly too ! Never says, ' You know best ' ; nor, 
 < I know best'; nor, <I don't know,' that everlasting 
 answer of brainless women ; but, ' Husband ! if any 
 man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth lib- 
 erally to all] or some other thing out of the Bible to 
 fit the case exactly. Not many men so well off as 
 you, Nat. Bacon junior, Esquire ; and if you do go to 
 perdition, you ought to be ashamed ! " 
 
 No one stood higher in Virginia than this young 
 man. Though he had been there less than three 
 years, he had already won the esteem of all who knew 
 him, and of multitudes who did not. His command- 
 ing talents had quickly made him conspicuous, without 
 effort or intention of his. He had already been raised 
 to the highest office which he could hold, except that 
 of Governor ; and had brought with him £ 1,800, 
 which, with his right to fifty acres of land for himself, 
 
THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 393 
 
 his wife, and each one of his servants, constituted an 
 easy, if not abundant fortune. He had been induced 
 to leave England by the solicitation of his uncle, Na- 
 thanael Bacon, who resided in Virginia, a gentleman 
 " of long standing in the Councill, a very rich politick 
 man, and childless, designing this kinsman for his 
 heir." The junior Bacon had, therefore, no private 
 profit to hope for, but the contrary, in sympathizing 
 with the masses and espousing their cause. 
 
 It was now early in the month of April. The peo- 
 ple were growing very impatient for decided action ; 
 and, two or three days after the conversation which 
 we have related, and which represents Bacon's true 
 position and motives, a large number of people gath- 
 ered, and, " with no common zeale, they sent up their 
 reiterated prayers, first to himselfe, and next to heaven, 
 that he might becom their guardian angel, to protect 
 them from the cruelties of the Indians." Immediate- 
 ly, and doubtless at his suggestion or demand, they 
 made earnest application to the Governor that he 
 would ratify their choice, and grant to their general 
 elect a commission ; offering to follow their leader at 
 their own charges. To this Sir William replied by 
 evasive promises. The application was repeated, and 
 the promises too. But no commission came. The 
 people could ill brook these delays, which seemed to 
 them like trifling with their miseries. Accordingly, 
 about the 10th of the month, a body of three hundred 
 men, among whom were nearly all the officers of the 
 government, both civil and military, whose residences 
 were near the heads of the rivers, met in the neigh- 
 borhood of Bacon's plantation for consultation. The 
 question before them was whether to proceed at once 
 
394 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 against the Indians without a commission, or, yet 
 hoping for one, to suffer passively under the murders 
 by which they were yet decimated.* 
 
 Upon this occasion Bacon addressed the people in 
 a spirited and effective harangue. The Navigation 
 Act ; the enormous and illegal grants of land by the 
 king ; the oppressive taxes ; the useless and expensive 
 garrisons, which the people began to regard as intend- 
 ed to overawe them rather than the Indians ; the ex- 
 clusion of a large and respectable class of freemen 
 from the right of suffrage ; the unaccountable neglect 
 of the Governor to shield them from massacre, — 
 these were the topics which he urged and expounded 
 with all the eloquence of a gifted and indignant mind. 
 He assured them that he was ready, at the proper 
 time, to lead them against the savages, and to seek 
 their relief from civil oppression ; that for the public 
 good only he was willing thus to hazard his dear- 
 est interests ; and that to this end he pledged himself 
 never to lay down arms until success had crowned 
 their efforts. He concluded by demanding of them a 
 solemn pledge of their faithful co-operation. It was 
 promptly given, and his words were answered by the 
 ringing applause of his hearers.f It was then resolved 
 by the assembly instantly to commence the necessary 
 preparations for an Indian war ; to make a new appli- 
 cation to the Governor for a commission; and to 
 march on a certain day, whether it were received or 
 not received ; J while Bacon himself declared, that, 
 commission or no commission, if he heard of another 
 
 * T. M.'s Account, 11. J T. M.'s Account, 11. 
 
 t Burk, II. 160-163; Campbell, 82. 
 
THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 395 
 
 murder by the savages, he would commence hostili- 
 ties, even though but twenty men should join him* 
 He immediately drew up and published — as well as 
 he could, for there was no printing-press in Virginia 
 — a declaration of the public grievances, and the mo- 
 tives for the present rising in arms. This declaration 
 he issued over his own signature. He also addressed 
 a respectful letter, which he sent by a special mes- 
 senger to Sir William Berkeley, stating frankly the 
 necessity for the people's movement, and conjuring 
 him to grant a commission, as the only means of quiet- 
 ing their dissatisfaction.! 
 
 It might have been about ten or twelve days after 
 these events, or about the middle of April, when 
 Bacon, with a clouded brow, announced to his wife 
 that he had received a letter from the Governor. 
 
 " Read it," said he, putting it into her hand : " I 
 want your opinion." 
 
 He moodily paced the little garden pathway where 
 they had met, while Marion read and again read the 
 letter. 
 
 " He does not refuse," she observed, as she refolded 
 the sheet. 
 
 " Humph ! Does not refuse ! " 
 
 " Will send you a definite answer as soon as he 
 can assemble and consult his Council." J 
 
 " O, yes ! — 'an unusual matter,' — ' very impor- 
 tant,' — ' time for advice,' — ' high regard for a young 
 gentleman of such distinguished talent and rare prom- 
 
 * Burwcll Narrative, 10. $ Beverly, 69. 
 
 t Burk, III. 163. 
 
396 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 ise,' — c fears the young gentleman may compromise 
 his own fortunes and high reputation,' — and so forth, 
 and so forth. But is the young gentleman of high 
 reputation and promise, — the young gentleman, him- 
 self a member of the Council, — is he summoned to 
 meet them ? The whole letter is chaff; a cant, hypo- 
 critical way of saying ' No.' Marion ! it is a denial." 
 And he bit his lip with vexation.* 
 
 " Does it affect your purpose ? " 
 
 " No," and he said it with vehemence. " Yet I will 
 wait awhile. Our preparations for a campaign are 
 almost complete. When the time fixed is up, we will 
 move in any case." 
 
 " Thank you," replied Marion ; " for I would neither 
 have my husband flinch from his duty, nor move un- 
 der the impulse of passion. I see you are angry." 
 
 "lam; but I can restrain myself, and will. You 
 know, Marion, that I am passionate ; and that some- 
 times in my heat I say and do things which I repent 
 sorely. My only safety is in self-control." 
 
 The weather was more than mild; the morning 
 was very inviting, with its cloudless sky, its bounteous 
 dews, its bird-music, and its rising sun ; and Bacon, 
 to whom the Governor's letter had but just been de- 
 livered, had found Marion among her pet shrubs and 
 vines. They continued to discuss the offensive let- 
 ter, and were still in the midst of serious conference, 
 when Bacon suddenly exclaimed, interrupting his 
 wife : " Good heavens ! there is some bad news ! 
 See how those fellows ride ! " 
 
 There were two horsemen flying across the field, 
 
 * J3urk,II. 163, 164. 
 
THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 397 
 
 nearly half a mile distant, as if for dear life, and mak- 
 ing their way directly for the house, toward which the 
 husband and wife now rapidly directed their steps. 
 
 " It is border news," said Marion, as she took her 
 husband's arm : " they come from the direction of our 
 upper plantation." 
 
 " I fear you are right, Marion ! If my eyes do not 
 deceive me, those are our horses and servants." 
 
 The horsemen were still at top-speed, and in a mo- 
 ment more were at the door, with faces pale and ex- 
 pressive of the wildest terror. 
 
 " Is it blood ! " almost shouted Bacon, as one of the 
 men flung himself from his horse. " Is it blood you 
 come to tell me off, Joseph ? Speak, man ! " 
 
 " Mr. Shortridge — and — William — sir," said the 
 man in an unearthly undertone, his eyes glaring in 
 their sockets. 
 
 « Dead ! killed ! scalped ! Tell me, fellow ! " 
 
 " Dead — killed — scalped — sk — sk — skinned, sir ! " 
 answered Joseph, with a desperate effort. 
 
 The husband and wife looked at each other, but 
 neither spake : then horror was too great for words. 
 The hatchet and tomahawk and knife had come into 
 their own precincts, into their own family. The ter- 
 rible realities, of which they had only heard as con- 
 cerning others unknown, had come home to them at 
 last. Their favorite overseer, and a most capable and 
 trusty servant, had both yielded life in their service, 
 and under the most devilish tortures. 
 
 Pale with grief, passion, and horror, Bacon took 
 the hand of his wife and led her within their dwell- 
 ing. " Marion ! " said he, in a hollow voice, the mo- 
 ment they were alone, " as sure as there is a God in 
 
 34 
 
398 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 heaven, I will protect — yes ! I will revenge — mine 
 own ! " 
 
 Marion did not sink upon her couch. She did not 
 tremble. She looked as sternly, as resolutely at her 
 husband, as he at her. There was only a slight quiver 
 upon her lip as she said, in a whisper, " In the name 
 of the widow's God, go ! " 
 
 Quietly they gave each other one brief, mute em- 
 brace, — Bacon turned, and was gone. The door 
 was shut, and there was a prayer for him offered 
 there, to Him who seeth in secret. 
 
 It required yet a few days to perfect the necessary 
 preparations for a wilderness march, and to collect the 
 people ; and on the 20th of April, the young general, 
 at the head of eager men, commenced his expedition.* 
 The news of this movement was received before long 
 at Jamestown ; for Bacon, upon starting, had de- 
 spatched different messengers to the Governor, signi- 
 fying that he had considered Sir William's letter as 
 containing, by implication, a promise of his commis- 
 sion, which he now begged might be hastened, as 
 emergencies had compelled his march. Bacon had 
 jealous rivals in the Council, — men who feared an 
 eclipse under the greater light of his splendid talents ; 
 " for though he was but a yong man, yet they found 
 that he was master and owner of those induments 
 which constitute a compleat man (as to intrinsicalls), 
 
 * T. M. says that Bacon's force was three hundred men when they 
 met for consultation on what I have supposed to be about the 1st of 
 the month ; and implies that the same number commenced the expe- 
 dition. Burk states the number at six hundred, and refers to Ancient 
 Records. 
 
THE YOUNG PROTECTOR. 399 
 
 wisdom to apprehend and discretion to chuse." Berke- 
 ley was already sufficiently jealous of him, " as he ap- 
 peared popularly inclined " ; and it was therefore no 
 difficult matter for his advisers to excite him to ex- 
 asperation. In consequence of their cabals, the Gov- 
 ernor, on the 29th of May, issued a proclamation, 
 declaring that all who had joined the expedition of 
 Bacon, and " who should not return within a limited 
 day," should be regarded as rebels ; and forces were 
 raised " to reduce him to obedience, with which Sir 
 William advanced from the Middle Plantation [now 
 William sburgh] to find him out, and, if need was, to 
 fight him." 
 
 This demonstration of the Governor had such 
 effect, that Bacon was deserted by " those of estates," 
 they being fearful of confiscations, and his company 
 dwindled to fifty-seven men ; with whom, however, 
 he resolutely proceeded to prosecute his mission.* 
 
 * T. M., 11. The Burwell Narrative, though seemingly describing 
 the whole number who rallied around Bacon, probably intends the 
 number remaining after this defection, and states it at " seventy or ninety 
 persons." The statement of T. M., however, was on the authority of 
 Bacon's own lips. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 '76, JULY FOURTH. 
 
 i P7A " ^ HE -^ on § Parliament " of Virginia — the 
 Assembly elected in 1661, and still in exist- 
 ence — consisted almost altogether of men who had 
 but little sympathy with the masses. They were 
 chiefly royalists who had fled from England at the 
 downfall of Charles the First ; had received the pro- 
 tection and generous hospitalities of the Virginians ; 
 had become proprietors of large landed estates ; and 
 were conspicuous for their education, their wealth, 
 and their courtly manners. They were of that class, 
 significantly English, who arrogated to themselves 
 aristocratical distinction, official power, and enor- 
 mous emoluments, as a birthright. Hence, with the 
 Governor's connivance, they had retained the reins of 
 government, which had been intrusted to them only 
 for the brief term of two years. Attached to the 
 usages and exclusive privileges of monarchical so- 
 ciety, ignoring the doctrine of people's rights, and 
 regarding popular liberty as a usurpation, they had 
 trodden in the dust the hard-earned privileges of an 
 enfranchised province, and driven the rowels deep 
 into the quivering flesh of the people. 
 
 From this class Sir William Berkeley raised the 
 forces with which he went " to find out Bacon, and, 
 if need was, to fight him." He had advanced, how- 
 
'76, JULY FOURTH. 401 
 
 ever, only thirty or forty miles in the direction of 
 the James River Falls, when the noise of the people, 
 as the noise of many waters, reached him from the 
 counties in his rear. They were in arms. They had 
 cast off all deference for the authority of the govern- 
 ment, and acknowledged only the decrees of then- 
 leaders. Retracing his steps, and entering James- 
 town, the Governor found it " almost entirely de- 
 serted," and himself with scarcely more than the 
 shadow of authority. With no small degree of con- 
 sternation, he found that Bacon was not the only 
 insurgent leader, that the spirit of revolution had 
 pervaded almost the whole colony, and that men of 
 consideration and influence, without concerting with 
 the young general, had placed themselves at the head 
 of a resolute people, in open and organized revolt. 
 The popular voice was strong, stern, and distinct. 
 It recited the complaints set forth by Bacon in his 
 Declaration, and demanded the immediate disman- 
 tling of the frontier forts, and the dissolution of the 
 Old Assembly. The Governor, upon examining his 
 position, found himself without power to resist, and 
 was obliged to sacrifice his pride and yield. The 
 demands were of necessity complied with, and writs 
 were issued for the election of a new Assembly. The 
 people of course elected such as shared in their griev- 
 ances, and would insist upon redress. They paid no 
 regard to the law which prescribed that only free- 
 holders should be eligible as Burgesses. 
 
 Bacon, without effecting anything against the hos- 
 tile Indians, who warily fled into the remote for- 
 ests as he advanced, returned home, and was soon 
 after " unanimously " elected a Burgess from Hen- 
 
 34* 
 
402 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 rico, his own county, although he was a proclaimed 
 rebel. 
 
 The Assembly was to meet on the 5th of June, 
 and Bacon embarked seasonably in a sloop for James- 
 town, accompanied by twenty or thirty armed men. 
 Anchoring before the town, he proceeded — un- 
 known, it would seem — to the house of Mr. Law- 
 rence, a man of repute, and " popularly inclined," to 
 reconnoitre, and ascertain whether he might with 
 safety appear openly. In the mean time, as a pre- 
 cautionary measure, he had stationed a part of his 
 men in concealment on shore, but within call. A 
 clergyman, to whom his person was known, saw and 
 recognized him, and reported his arrival and the pres- 
 ence of his soldiers to the Governor, who immedi- 
 ately ordered the alarm beat. Of course the whole 
 town was in commotion. In the confusion, Bacon 
 escaped with his men aboard his sloop. But finding 
 his vessel " shot at, was forced to fly up the river " 
 with her. Perceiving this movement, Berkeley not 
 only sent a long-boat in pursuit, under charge of Cap- 
 tain Thomas Gardner, which obliged Bacon to take 
 to his own for greater speed, but sent orders to cer- 
 tain ships, lying above at Sandy Point, to intercept 
 him. Thus beset, and rinding escape impossible 
 without bloodshed, Mr. Bacon, after parley and ca- 
 pitulation, " quietly surrendered himself prisoner " to 
 Captain Gardner, " to the great satisfaction of all his 
 friends." By Gardner he was transferred to the cus- 
 tody of Major Hone, the High Sheriff of James- 
 town.* 
 
 * " Strange News from Virginia," though in the main not reliable, 
 affords a clew to the seemingly differing accounts of Bacon's visit and 
 
'76, JULY FOURTH. 403 
 
 Bacon's surrender without resistance had a pacify- 
 ing influence upon Sir William, which partly explains 
 " the surprising civility " with which he accosted his 
 prisoner. 
 
 " Mr. Bacon ! have you forgot to be a gentle- 
 man ? " 
 
 " No, may it please your Honor." 
 
 " Then I will take your parole " ; and he immedi- 
 ately set him at liberty, " without confining him either 
 to prison or chamber," but the men who had accom- 
 panied him were put in irons. These occurrences 
 seem to have taken place on the 4th of June. 
 
 " The next forenoon," the Burgesses, having assem- 
 bled and organized, were summoned to meet the Gov- 
 ernor and Council. Sir William addressed them par- 
 ticularly upon their Indian affairs, protesting, " with 
 a pathetic emphasis," against the slaughter of the 
 chiefs at the Piscataway fort, Colonel Washington 
 and his associate commander both being present 
 members of the House. 
 
 " If they had killed my grandfather and grand- 
 mother," exclaimed the indignant knight, " my fa- 
 ther, and mother, and all my friends, yet if they had 
 come to treat of peace, they ought to have gone in 
 peace." 
 
 arrest given by Beverly and The Keview Breviarie in Burk, II. 251. I 
 think the three not inconsistent, and have accordingly blended them all 
 in the text. T. M. says that the arrest took place while Bacon was yet 
 on his way down the river to Jamestown. That this writer, as Camp- 
 bell observes, "was a Burgess present in Jamestown about the time of 
 Bacon's capture," hardly justifies a reliance upon his very brief state- 
 ment of these occurrences as "the more probable"; for, as T. M. him- 
 self says, the arrest took place before his own arrival. The Burwell 
 Narrative contradicts all the others. 
 
404 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 On the next Saturday, the 10th of the month,* the 
 Council and Burgesses being again in joint conven- 
 vention, the Governor rose and said : " If there be joy 
 in the presence of angels over one sinner that repent- 
 eth, there is joy now ; for we have a penitent sinner 
 come before us. Call Mr. Bacon." 
 
 Bacon then made his appearance, and, bending 
 upon one knee before the Governor, read and deliv- 
 ered to him a paper, in which he confessed his de- 
 parture from duty in raising an armed force, begged 
 pardon for his offence, and " promised, upon the word 
 and faith of a Christian and a gentleman, that, upon 
 such pardon granted, he would demean himself duti- 
 fully, faithfully, and peaceably to the government and 
 laws of the country." 
 
 A short silence followed the reading of the paper, 
 when the Governor replied : " God forgive you ! I 
 forgive you, — I forgive you, — I forgive you ! " 
 
 " And all that were with him ? " asked Colonel 
 Cole, one of the Council. 
 
 " Yes," replied Sir William, u and all that were 
 with him." 
 
 This seems to have referred more particularly to 
 those who had accompanied Bacon to Jamestown, 
 and who were then in irons. 
 
 " Mr. Bacon ! " added the Governor, " if you will 
 live civilly but till next Quarter Court, — but till next 
 Quarter Court, — I will promise to restore you again 
 to your place there," — pointing to his vacant seat 
 
 * I assign this occurrence to the 10th of the month, because Cotton's 
 Account and the Burwell Narrative do, and because Bacon's paper was 
 dated on the ninth. It may be found entire in Campbell, 84. T. M. 
 seems to say that it was read on the fifth. 
 
'76, JULY FOURTH. 405 
 
 in the Council, from which, by his attainder, he had of 
 course been deposed. The Governor, however, was 
 more rapid in his act, than in his promise, of grace ; 
 for Bacon was reinstated in his seat that very after- 
 noon.* 
 
 These occurrences took place on Saturday, and 
 Bacon, " as credible report said," was promised that 
 he should receive a commission against the Indians 
 on the next Monday. The joy of the people was 
 great, and the whole town rang with acclamations.! 
 
 It was fortunate that this reconciliation took place 
 when it did, for the bruit of Bacon's arrest, and that 
 of his companions, had reached the upper counties, 
 and the people were hastening thence in fearful ex- 
 citement, vowing " double revenge " for all wrongs 
 done to their favorite or his men. A large number 
 of them, indeed, had reached Jamestown ; " but find- 
 ing Bacon restored to his place in the Council, and his 
 companions at liberty, they returned home satisfied." J 
 Two or three days after Bacon's restoration, and when 
 every sign of popular irritation had disappeared, the 
 Governor refused to sign the promised commission. § 
 
 * " The Governor, knowing- that he had gone a step beyond his In- 
 structions in having suspended him, was glad to admit him again of the 
 Council." — Beverly, 70. 
 
 t Breviarie in Burk, II. 251. T. M.'s Account, 12, 13. Cotton's 
 Account, 5. Burwell Narrative, 12. 
 
 t T. M., 15, 16. 
 
 § T. M., 16. Burwell Narrative, 12. Burk (II. 168) says that " Berke- 
 ley positively contradicted " the report that he had promised a commis- 
 sion, and cannot believe that one of such "nice principles of honor" 
 could have been guilty of " a direct falsehood." Bacon, however, had 
 an equally nice sense of honor. I think the writer of " Strange News," 
 though a railing accuser of Bacon, throws light on this delicate point. 
 He says : "A commission was partly promised him to be general against 
 
406 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Mr. Lawrence, to whose house Bacon went when 
 he first came to Jamestown, was a gentleman of tal- 
 ents and sobriety, " nicely honest, affable, without 
 blemish in his conversation and dealings," and had 
 received an education at Oxford. His house was a 
 place of public entertainment, and a rendezvous of 
 men of high standing ; for his accomplishments and 
 his " even temper " were attractive to persons of all 
 ranks. Constitutionally, and by education, he was 
 of a kindred spirit with Bacon, and also shared openly 
 in his political sympathies, having been a leader of 
 the people in the late revolt in the lower and middle 
 counties. He was now a member of the House of 
 Burgesses. He and Drummond — a Scotchman, and 
 lately the Governor of North Carolina, and also a * 
 resident in Jamestown and a Burgess — had just 
 been publicly denounced by Berkeley to the House 
 as " two rogues of whom they should beware." Ba- 
 con, therefore, was naturally drawn into intimacy and 
 friendship with Lawrence, and now found lodgings 
 in his house. The elder Bacon, as a member of the 
 Council, had peculiar facilities of information during 
 the present crisis of his nephew's affairs, and had 
 labored indefatigably in his behalf. It was by his 
 hand that the recantation of the latter had been 
 drawn up, and through his influence and earnest 
 entreaties that it had been reluctantly signed and 
 
 the Indian army ; but upon further inquiry into his affairs, it was not 
 thought fit to be granted." Probably tbis was the exact truth, and that 
 the partial, and perhaps equivocal, promise was honestly and fairly 
 understood by Bacon as absolute. That Berkeley, while avoiding a 
 literal promise, intended it as an anodyne to Bacon and his partisans, 
 is strongly indicated by his subsequent behavior. 
 
'76, JULY FOURTH. 407 
 
 published.* To him the young patriot naturally 
 went to vent his chagrin and indignation, when he 
 found that the Governor would balk him of his com- 
 mission. He was peculiarly irritated by his disap- 
 pointment, having just heard of fresh murders com- 
 mitted by the Indians. The old gentleman sympa- 
 thized with him in his peculiarly trying position, and 
 shared his anxieties for his family so exposed upon 
 the very precincts of war ; but he also succeeded in 
 imparting something of his own cooler deliberateness. 
 The young man was at length persuaded to curb his 
 wrath, and, for a day or two at least, to wait the 
 course of events. The elder promised to watch care- 
 fully every movement'which might concern the latter ; 
 and thus they parted. But the young man had hardly 
 composed himself to sleep that night, when he was 
 roused by his kinsman and Lawrence. 
 
 " Up ! up, my son ! " said the old gentleman, spoil- 
 ing a very promising dream about Marion. 
 
 As Bacon woke in confusion, he continued : w I 've 
 near been the death of you, keeping you here, — God 
 forgive me ! The place is too hot for you, boy ! 
 Arise, and flee for thy life ! " 
 
 " Then there is treachery ! " grumbled the young 
 man, as he adjusted his dress. " I suspected as 
 much." 
 
 " And so did I, Nathan ael, when we talked to-day. 
 But I would not disturb you with my thoughts. 
 They put me upon the scent, though ; and here I 
 am to warn and speed you."f 
 
 " Well, let me know what it is." 
 
 u There is no time to spare. The Governor's 
 
 * T. M.'s Account, 15. t T. M., 15, 16. 
 
408 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 seeming grace was all to throw dust in our eyes, 
 and quiet the people." 
 
 " The old, treacherous villain," interposed Law- 
 rence, " took you into the Council again to keep you 
 out of the House, as well as to quiet the people." * 
 
 " No matter what he did it for, my son," said the 
 elder Bacon, impatiently. " We can read his policy 
 well enough, now we have got at his intentions. 
 You will probably swing on a gallows, if you don't 
 get into your boots quick." 
 
 " Ha ! well, let him catch me!" 
 
 " He will be about it quickly," said Lawrence. 
 
 " He is about to sign — perhaps has already 
 signed — a warrant for your arrest ; means to raise 
 the militia to keep away your friends, and then to 
 stretch your neck. Come, come ! hasten ! " f 
 
 " Ready, uncle ! You will hear of me again, — 
 and so will he. My dear sir, your blessing ! " and 
 he threw himself upon his uncle's neck. 
 
 "God bless you, my boy, and guide you ! " ex- 
 claimed the old gentleman, returning his embrace, 
 and a tear or two rolled along the furrows of his 
 cheek. " Commend yourself to God, Nathanael ! as 
 I do. Take heed to your spirit; I can trust your 
 honor. Be off!" 
 
 With one more hurried embrace, the young man 
 turned, and was passing the door. 
 
 " Here, you young Jehu ! come back. What a 
 forgetful old fool I am ! doing so much blubbering," 
 — and he wiped his cheek, — " that I have n't my 
 thoughts about me." 
 
 He had been fumbling first in one pocket, and then 
 
 * T. M., 15. t T. M., 16. 
 
J 76, JULY FOURTH. 409 
 
 in another, while the young man stood patient and 
 wondering. 
 
 " Here, here it is !'" he exclaimed. " You may- 
 want it," — putting a small purse of gold into his hand, 
 — a coin rarely seen in the colony. u Go along ! 
 Clap your spurs hard ; go right to Marion, and when 
 you find her, mind her. Here, stop ! " catching him 
 by the arm, and whispering in his ear. " I tell you, 
 boy, she J s — she 's got an interest up above ; and 
 you 'd better use it. These women are great at pray- 
 ing. It 's their way of making up with the men for 
 eating the apple. Hurry, hurry, boy ! What are 
 you lagging for? Go along, go along! God — 
 bless — you ! " 
 
 " Lawrence ! " said Bacon, as they crept softly out 
 into the darkness, " comfort the good old man for my 
 sake. He will miss me, and be afraid for me. I 
 shall contrive that you hear from me, you may de- 
 pend, and that without writing or sending word. It 
 is the sword now, Lawrence ; the scabbard 's gone ! " 
 
 " Rally your men, Bacon ! Come back and make 
 your terms. Drummond and I will be putting things 
 in train. Here 's your horse, — this way." 
 
 They were now beyond the suburbs, and behind 
 a clump of bushes stood a horse, tied and ready for 
 service. 
 
 " He 's fresh and strong," continued Lawrence ; " and 
 the fellow who led him here knows not for whom or 
 what. Mount!" 
 
 " We meet again soon, Lawrence ! " and, giving to 
 his friend his hand, he sprang into the saddle, and 
 was quickly over the neck which joined the peninsula 
 to the country. 
 
 35 
 
410 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " A noble fellow ! " said Lawrence, after listening 
 until the sound of the hoofs had died away, "and in 
 a worse condition than I, when Sir William dealt me 
 law ; for Lawrence's land will hardly weigh in value 
 against Bacon's life. It may be, most worshipful 
 Governor ! that, what with his spirit and talent and 
 by-play, you may yet do penance for false judgment 
 against me."* 
 
 At daybreak, Lawrence's house was entered by the 
 Governor's officials, and thorough search was made 
 upon the premises for the young Defender of the 
 People. So narrowly did he escape the machinations 
 
 of his mortal enemy. 
 
 ***** 
 
 " The solemn promise at the bar of the House was 
 made in all sincerity and good faith, Marion ! It was 
 my part of a contract ; for I never would have yielded 
 the contest, nor would my uncle have urged me to 
 yield it, but on the honorable condition that I should 
 be commissioned to defend the frontiers. Never! 
 never ! The protection of our families was the very 
 thing for which we took up arms. Had I yielded 
 this point, I should have been a traitor. The other 
 part of the contract was refused — when the people 
 were quiet. By that refusal it was annulled. My 
 promise was broken, — I mean, annihilated ! By 
 whom ? By Nathanael Bacon ? Never ! By the 
 violator of the contract. To the day of my death I 
 would have kept it, had he proved true. And then 
 he must plot and prowl about in the night-time, 
 when honest folks sleep, to circumvent my life ! 1 
 
 * T. M., 15 ; Campbell, 94. 
 
J 76, JULY FOURTH. 411 
 
 keep no terms with covenant-breakers ! You see my 
 men," pointing out upon the lawn. " They are brave 
 fellows, and as determined as I." 
 
 " And now you sweep the frontier ? " 
 
 " No. First the commission ! " And the young 
 man's countenance expressed that which would not 
 have seemed lovely in the eyes of Sir William 
 Berkeley. 
 
 " O, it is sad, sad, Nathanael, to be at strife with 
 the ruler of one's people ! " 
 
 " It is, Marion ! But when he is at strife with the 
 laws of common humanity, what shall we do ? The 
 tomahawk has come to our house already. Shall I 
 wait till it strikes you ? till our babe's brains are spat- 
 tered — " 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! You make my flesh creep ! No. 
 I say as I have said. Defend those who appeal to 
 your strong right-arm. But oh! if you might do it 
 without seeming rebellion ! " 
 
 " Precisely. Therefore, first the commission. Ma- 
 rion ! I ivill have it. I cannot be called rebel then. 
 Good by ! Our servants are well armed and watch- 
 ful. Sleep in peace, Marion ! " 
 
 Again they embraced and parted. Their interview 
 had been sudden, their words few ; for time was press- 
 ing, and the little band without were impatient. They 
 gave a shout as he reappeared ; and the moment he 
 rejoined them, they were in rapid motion, and soon 
 out of sight. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Three or four days after Bacon's flight, there was a 
 great bustle in Jamestown. Lawrence's house was 
 thronged with gossips ; the Burgesses — when absent 
 
412 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 from their chamber — collected in small groups ; men 
 who met in the streets looked anxious, and hurriedly 
 asked the news ; the women chattered to each other 
 from window to window; couriers, every now and 
 then, were starting from the Governor's office, " at the 
 other end of the State-house " ; and in one by-corner 
 a little fellow, who called himself General Bacon, was 
 making a sly speech about bloody murders in the 
 woods to half a score of urchins in nursery regimen- 
 tals. The boys were full of fun ; the women, of won- 
 derful stories and wonderful curiosity ; and the men, 
 of politics and wise predictions. Bacon's name was 
 on everybody's lip ; and everybody but sheriffs, sec- 
 retaries, and tide-waiters was wishing blessings on 
 his head. News had that day been received that he 
 was within thirty miles, at the head of four hundred 
 men, infantry and cavalry, on his way to Jamestown. 
 Sir William was at once in business, — deep; de- 
 spatching orders for militia, and messengers for intel- 
 ligence ; receiving reports ; and debating with his dis- 
 turbed and divided Council. The next day came ti- 
 dings that the young general's forces were increasing ; 
 and then there was more gossip in the houses and 
 streets, and more writing and talking in the Gover- 
 nors apartment. The place of rendezvous which he 
 had appointed for the train-bands was at some dis- 
 tance ; and he was told, to his vexation, that but a 
 few stragglers had appeared. The next day expresses 
 from the country came in hourly. Bacon's forces still 
 increased, and he was in motion, they said. But the 
 York train-bands grew very slowly ; they who had 
 mustered did not number one hundred, and were 
 sulky, — "not one half of them sure, neather," was 
 
'76, JULY FOURTH. 413 
 
 reported to Berkeley ; and he had a body-guard of 
 only twenty men. The next day Bacon was near ; the 
 train-bands were so sluggish in their motions, that 
 now they could not arrive in season. Resistance was 
 out of question; but the proud old Governor could 
 meet the storm bareheaded and alone, and he would. 
 A little after noon the insurgent forces were filing over 
 the isthmus ; and by two o'clock they had formed, 
 six hundred horse and foot, and in good order, upon 
 the State-house green. They immediately proceeded 
 to take possession of all the avenues, and to disarm all 
 in town. About an hour and a half afterwards, — 
 during which time the House had entered upon their 
 afternoon session, — Bacon advanced between two 
 files of soldiers to a point near a corner of the State- 
 house, where he was met by the Governor and Council. 
 
 " Here ! " exclaimed the veteran Cavalier, whose 
 blood was just now up to youthful heat. " Here ! " 
 and he presented his naked breast ; " shoot me ! 'Fore 
 God, a fair mark ! " 
 
 " No ; may it please your honor," answered Bacon, 
 courteously, " we will not hurt a hair of your head, 
 nor of any other man's." 
 
 " Shoot! shoot!" persisted the Governor; "a fair 
 mark ! " which he repeated again and again, in great 
 excitement. Neither did he add any other words. 
 
 "No, your honor!" answered the young man, be- 
 ginning to be infected with the passion of the other : 
 " we are come for a commission to save our lives from 
 the Indians, — the commission which you have so 
 often promised." 
 
 " Shoot ! " reiterated Berkeley, still standing haugh- 
 ty and erect, with his breast bared. 
 
 35* 
 
414 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 Bacon, roused by receiving insulting challenges to 
 murder, in lieu of an answer, gave way to violent ges- 
 ticulation, and repeated, " No, we come for a commis- 
 sion ; and we will have it, too, before we go." 
 
 Without any answer, Sir William turned, with the 
 air of a man distracted, and walked, attended by his 
 Council, toward his private apartment at the other 
 end of the State-house. 
 
 It is recorded that the young general now lost his 
 temper, and followed the Governor, with " outragious 
 postures," exclaiming : " Damn my blood ! I '11 kill 
 Governor, Council, Assembly, and all ; and then I '11 
 sheathe my sword in my own heart ! " 
 
 In the mean time, says the chronicler, the Burgesses 
 were eagerly looking from the windows upon the 
 scene below, when Bacon's body-guard presented their 
 cocked fusils at them, crying, " We will have it! we 
 will have it ! " Upon which one of the House, waving 
 a handkerchief, cried out : " You shall ! you shall ! " 
 when the soldiers shouldered their pieces, and stood 
 quiet. " Afterwards," it is added, " 't was said, Ba- 
 con had given a signall to his men who presented their 
 fusils at those gazing out at the window, that, if he 
 should draw his sword, they were on sight of it to fire 
 and slay them." * 
 
 * It will be perceived that I have not stated Bacon's passionate 
 threat of wholesale slaughter, and his private order to his soldiers, as 
 facts. They are wholly inconsistent with his uniform character and 
 deportment, even under greater provocations. The threat was too silly 
 even for a child; and it was utterly at variance with the first words 
 which he uttered to Sir William. The threat, and the order to the sol- 
 diers, rest altogether, as T. M. himself admits, the one upon the asser- 
 tion of his servant, " who in the hubbub got nigh " to Bacon and Berke- 
 ley, and the other upon mere rumor. Besides, the Burgesses were 
 
'76, JULY FOURTH. 415 
 
 An hour afterwards, Bacon entered the chamber of 
 the Burgesses, urging that he should have a commis- 
 sion, and pleading eloquently, for the space of half an 
 hour, the miseries of war and oppression under which 
 the people were groaning. 
 
 The House then proceeded with the bill before 
 them, ordering a levy of one thousand men against 
 the Indians, and appointing Bacon commander-in- 
 chief. For a long time the high-mettled Governor 
 refused to sign this bill, which, in his view, sanctioned 
 an act of rebellion. But the importunity of the As- 
 sembly and of the Council prevailed ; so that he 
 signed not only the commission of General for Bacon, 
 but also a bill " of indemnity to Bacon and his party 
 for committing this force, and a highly applausive let- 
 ter was writ in favor of Bacon's designs and proceed- 
 ings to the King's Majesty, signed by the Governor, 
 Council, and Assembly." * 
 
 By this Assembly the people were restored to their 
 rights ; and thus one great object of Bacon's move- 
 ment was accomplished. Besides making provision 
 for the Indian war and its command in accordance 
 with the popular voice, they put an end to the mo- 
 nopoly of the Indian trade ; they gave to the freemen 
 of parishes the election of then own vestry-men ; they 
 restored to all freemen the right of suffrage, and the 
 
 more than half of them warm partisans of Bacon, and he knew it. For 
 these reasons, — to say nothing of the prolific habits of Rumor in an hour 
 of intense popular excitement, — these murderous allegations against 
 Bacon may fairly be considered as apocryphal. 
 
 * T. M.'s Account, 16-18; Burk, II. 169; Breviaiie, Burk, 11.251. 
 It is instructive to observe how plausibly, yet enormously, the facts in 
 this case are perverted on the pages of " Strange News." 
 
416 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOIVHNION. 
 
 right of taxing themselves in their respective counties ; 
 they provided that members of the Council should no 
 longer be exempted from taxation ; and curtailed 
 some of the Governor's fees. A few days after sign- 
 ing Bacon's commission, the uneasy Governor dis- 
 solved the Assembly. 
 
 Such were the fruits of the general movement 
 among the people, which the young patriot Bacon 
 had initiated and propelled by his bold, manly, and 
 persistent course, and at the imminent hazard of his 
 life, his fortune, and his good name. Through his 
 example, and by means of his Declaration, the people 
 had been roused., while he was yet in the wilder- 
 ness, to demand the suppression of the garrisons, 
 and the dissolution of the old Assembly. Through 
 his influence, they had taken their stand, in the elec- 
 tion of a new Assembly, upon the universal right of 
 suffrage and the eligibility of all freemen to a seat in 
 the legislature. It was through his influence, there- 
 fore, that this remedial legislation was prosecuted, 
 and, on the 4th of July,* ratified. On that day, and 
 under his auspices, Virginia took her stand, alone, 
 against lawless tyranny ; and on the same day of the 
 same month, the same spirit of resistance, matured by 
 the added wrongs of just one hundred years, once 
 more arose, — too well taught to b£ bullied, and too 
 stout to be subdued. On the same day of the same 
 month, just one hundred years afterwards, and bring- 
 ing in her hand the same principles of freedom im- 
 perishably embodied by another of her sons, but no 
 longer in her childhood or alone, Virginia again stood 
 
 * June 24th, Old Style. 
 
417 
 
 up, and declared and sustained her independent sover- 
 eignty before the world. The Fourth of July in sev- 
 enteen hundred and seventy-six was the offspring of 
 that other fourth of July in sixteen hundred and sev- 
 enty-six. The spirit of Bacon lived after him. The 
 influence of his struggle for rational independence 
 was never lost. Suppressed indeed, but fresh, it sur- 
 vived for three generations. The grandchildren of the 
 boys who played revolution in a sly corner of James- 
 town, acted revolution on the plains of Yorktown. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 
 
 The young General lost no time. His first 
 step was to organize the military resources of 
 the country. In this grave work he not only mani- 
 fested military skill, but statesmanlike sagacity. First 
 obtaining the signature of the Governor to a sufficient 
 number of blank commissions, he sought for men 
 truly competent, and who would at the same time be 
 acceptable both to the Governor himself and to the 
 people. For this purpose, he diligently asked advice 
 and information. Ascertaining that the present com- 
 manders of the militia would be willing to serve un- 
 der him, with much labor and despatch he drafted a 
 list of their names, with which he rilled the blank com- 
 missions ; thus confiding the execution of his plans to 
 " the first men in the colony in fortune, rank, and in- 
 fluence.' ' To these men, in their respective counties, 
 he assigned the command of well-armed companies, 
 and the duty of ranging the forests, swamps, and 
 other places of their districts, in which the Indians 
 might lurk for mischief. Thus the whole country 
 was at once under organized, authorized, and efficient 
 military protection ; and the planters went to their 
 neglected fields with a sense of security, and a glad- 
 ness of heart, to which they had long been strangers. 
 Bacon reserved for himself a different sphere of opera- 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 419 
 
 tions, — the remote strongholds of the enemy. As 
 soon as he had completed his judicious arrangements, 
 he placed himself at the head of his men, and made 
 directly for Gloster County, the most populous and 
 aristocratic in Virginia. Here he paused to disarm, 
 in virtue of his authority of military commander-in- 
 chief, those partisans there who were disposed to 
 embarrass his movements. He then proceeded up 
 the river toward the frontier. When he had almost 
 reached the head of the river, and was "fitting his 
 provisions " for his plunge into the wooded wilderness, 
 he was surprised by the sudden arrival of a horseman, 
 who rode to his quarters at full speed. He brought 
 letters, which Bacon had no sooner read than he 
 turned to the two or three who happened to be pres- 
 ent, saying, with slight indications of disturbance : 
 " Gentlemen, a council, with all speed ! I would 
 have every officer present." And he immediately re- 
 tired to an inner apartment of his cabin. 
 
 Less than half an hour had passed, when, the offi- 
 cers being assembled, he appeared before them, very 
 cool in his demeanor, but in his rigid, moody features 
 bearing unmistakable evidence of smothered anger. 
 
 " Gentlemen ! " said he, " through letters from Mr. 
 Lawrence and Mr. Drummond, I have the honor to 
 inform you that your General is a rebel ! He has just 
 been so proclaimed by his Majesty's Governor of Vir- 
 ginia. Sir William Berkeley is now raising the train- 
 bands of Gloster and Middlesex against us ; meaning 
 either to attack us in our rear immediately, or to wait 
 and fall upon us as we return weary and worn by the 
 hardships of our campaign. I submit to you three 
 questions : — Will you disperse to your homes, rather 
 
420 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 than follow a rebel ? Will you follow him forthwith 
 against the Indians ? Will you turn and face his 
 Majesty's Governor of Virginia ? I tell you frankly, 
 gentlemen, that he has gone there in compliance with 
 a request from persons residing there." 
 
 The consternation produced by this announcement 
 was great. There was, however, but little debate. 
 It was promptly decided, that, though the expedition 
 against the Indians must not be abandoned, this de- 
 sign to cut in pieces the protectors and servants of the 
 people must first be dealt with. 
 
 " Such," exclaimed Bacon, now giving way to his 
 emotions, u such, gentlemen, I did believe would be 
 your opinion. It is mine. We must take care of 
 ourselves, or we cannot take care of our wives and 
 children. Even now the savage may be prowling 
 around some unprotected family, or shedding their 
 blood. But if we advance to their defence, or re- 
 venge, we may ourselves be crippled by our own 
 countrymen, or rather by both assailants, like corn 
 between the stones. It vexes me to the heart," he 
 added vehemently, " that, while we are hunting the 
 wolves, tigers, and bears which daily destroy our 
 harmless and innocent lambs, we should be pursued 
 in the rear with a full cry, as more savage beasts. 
 We will return. Let the order be given for instant 
 march." 
 
 The patriot soldiers now retraced their steps, with 
 forced marches, " to attack the Governor before he 
 could be reinforced." Re-entering first the county 
 of Gloster, and finding that Sir William had evaded 
 him, the General sent out parties of horse to bring 
 before him as prisoners various individuals of whom 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 421 
 
 he had reason to be suspicious. To these he offered 
 a strict oath that they should not molest him in his 
 operations against the Indians ; and all who took it 
 were immediately set at liberty. Having effected 
 this precautionary measure, he turned southward to 
 the Middle Plantation, — the Williamsburg of to- 
 day, — where he halted, fifteen miles from James- 
 town. 
 
 In the mean time, the summons of Berkeley to the 
 freemen of Gloster and Middlesex had been obeyed. 
 Twelve hundred had assembled on the day and place 
 appointed. He proposed that they should pursue 
 and disperse the forces of the rebel General. The 
 proposal was heard with amazement. Debate arose, 
 between the few who had induced the Governor to 
 this course, and the rest of the convention. The 
 overwhelming opinion was, in substance, that Bacon 
 had gone on an important and pressing service 
 " against the common enemy, who had in a most 
 barbarous manner murthered some hundreds of their 
 deare brethren and countrymen, and who would, if 
 not prevented by God and the endeavours of good 
 men, do their utmost for to cut off' the wholl Collony. 
 It was, therefore, against right reason " that they 
 should do as the Governor proposed. " But should 
 the Generall, after the Indian war was finished, at- 
 tempt anything against his Honer's person and Gov- 
 ernment, they would rise up in arms with a joint 
 consent, for the preservation of both." Having thus 
 expressed their sentiments, greatly to the chagrin of 
 the Governor and his too sanguine advisers, the 
 whole convention "disbanded to their owne aboads," 
 enthusiastically shouting, as they moved away, " Ba- 
 
 36 
 
422 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 con ! " " Bacon ! " " Bacon ! " Berkeley, seeing the 
 temper of the counties in which he confided as the 
 most loyal in Virginia, and having intelligence of 
 Bacon's countermarch, retired crestfallen with a few 
 of his adherents across the Chesapeake, thirty miles, 
 to Accomac, or " the Eastern Shore." Before his de- 
 parture, however, he again proclaimed Bacon a rebel 
 and a traitor, on the 29th of July. " Accomac, al- 
 though subject to the authority of Virginia, was 
 nominally and legally a distinct territory." 
 
 The young General was in a perplexing condition. 
 Intrusted by the representatives of the people with a 
 solemn and critical mission, he was suddenly obliged 
 to defend himself against the civil authority. Thus 
 situated, he certainly needed the highest guaranty 
 for his own safety, and the highest sanction for con- 
 tinuing in arms for the country's defence. This he 
 saw, and instantly adopted bold and decisive meas- 
 ures. His first act was to issue a manifesto, declar- 
 ing his true position as a loyal patriot. 
 
 " Can we," he demanded, " deserve the name of 
 rebels and traitors ? we, who are wholly devoted to 
 our king and country, who aim only at our country's 
 good ? we, who are mustered here, with our lives and 
 our fortunes in our hands, purposely and only to sub- 
 due those who are at war with our sovereign and 
 country ? we, who have never attempted or plotted 
 a single wrong to any of his Majesty's subjects, in 
 their lives, names, fortunes, or estates ? We point to 
 our behavior. What man's house have we plun- 
 dered ? What man's purse have we touched ? What 
 man's corn, or tobacco, or cattle, have we distrained ? 
 At the bar of the country let us be judged. Let the 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 423 
 
 people be the witnesses. Let them testify against 
 us, if they can. Are we not their soldiers ? Where- 
 in, — we repeat it, — wherein have we departed from 
 peaceable behavior ? On the other hand, who are 
 those who denounce us, and would take our lives ? 
 and who wear the badges of civil authority ? Some 
 of them, at least, cannot boast of their capacity or 
 their learning. Some of them came here poor. That 
 is no sin. But now they are rich. That is no sin. 
 But how did they get their riches, in a country where 
 the faces of the poor are ground ? They have been 
 office-holders. Ay, and sponges that have sucked up 
 the public treasury, which the people have filled by 
 the sweat of the brow. Is it not so ? Judge ye. 
 What arts, what sciences, what schools of learning, 
 what manufactories, have these men promoted ? 
 
 " Our hostile x intentions against the Indians are 
 just. We need not prove it. It is written in blood. 
 But what shall we say of a Governor — bound, by 
 oath to king and God, to be the defender of the 
 defenceless — who justifies the malice of the Heathen 
 against the homes and lives of Christians ? of a Gov- 
 ernor who will not take a Christian's oath against a 
 bloodthirsty Pagan, yet will take that Pagan's naked 
 word against the Christian ? of a Governor who di- 
 verts to his own profit the trade in furs, which his 
 Majesty has reserved to the Crown ? of a Governor 
 whose trading agents with impunity buy and sell the 
 blood of their brethren, by furnishing the Indians, 
 contrary to law, with ammunition and fire-arms ? 
 Who, then, are rebels against the King and traitors 
 to their country ? Sir William Berkeley and his ser- 
 vitors, or Nathanael Bacon and his soldiers ? First 
 
424 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 of all, and now, we appeal to the people ; next, and 
 speedily, to King and Parliament." * 
 
 This appeal was immediately followed by a circu- 
 lar, addressed to all the influential characters in the 
 country, some of whom were of the Council, adjuring 
 them by all their regard for themselves, their country, 
 their wives, and their children, not to fold their hands 
 and be listless lookers-on in the day of public calam- 
 ity ; but to come together in so great a crisis, and 
 consider how best to protect the Colony from the 
 dangers which threatened it, through the bloody pro- 
 ceedings of the Indians on the one hand, and the 
 irregular actings and hostile designs of the Governor 
 on the other. The call of the General was promptly 
 answered. On the 3d of August, "a grate conven- 
 tion of the people met him at his quarters" ; "most 
 of the Prime Gentlemen of those parts, whereof some 
 were of the Councell of State." 
 
 Bacon addressed the convention at length, and with 
 great eloquence ; urging them to devise some expe- 
 dient to secure the country both against Sir William 
 and the Indians ; and reminding them, that neither 
 reason nor common sense required that he and his 
 soldiers should march against the savages, without 
 assurance " not to have their throts cut when they 
 should return home, by those who had set them to 
 worke." 
 
 First of all, it was declared by the convention, that 
 Sir William Berkeley, by his withdrawal from the 
 territory of Virginia to Accomac, had abdicated the 
 government ; that therefore it was vacant ; and that, 
 
 * Cotton, 6 ; Burwell Narrative, 15. 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 425 
 
 by all usage, it devolved upon the Council and the 
 people to supply the vacancy, until the king's pleas- 
 ure should be known.* 
 
 Next, it was resolved that a covenant should be 
 drawn and subscribed by the whole country, under 
 the solemnity of an oath, comprising the following 
 particulars: — 1. To aid the General with their lives 
 and estates in the Indian war.f 2. Not to aid or 
 assist Sir William Berkeley in any sort to the molesta- 
 tion, hinderance, or detriment of the General and his 
 army.f 3. That they would rise in arms against Sir 
 William Berkeley, should he, in the General's ab- 
 sence, offer to resist him, or to disturb the public 
 peace.§ 4. That, should any forces be sent from 
 England to support the Governor, they would resist 
 them, until the country's cause should be heard and 
 decided upon by the Kmg.|| On the last two articles 
 there arose great debate, which continued from noon 
 until midnight. For their adoption, however, Bacon 
 was resolute; urging, with great argument and elo- 
 quence, that utter security and protection for himself 
 and his army was but reasonable, if they engaged in 
 the country's work. He added, also, that, if these 
 could not be given, he must surrender his commis- 
 sion. 
 
 At this juncture, two items of news arrived ; the 
 one, that the Indians had just made a murderous 
 inroad upou Gloster County; the other, that York 
 fort — the most considerable in the country — had 
 just been stripped by Sir William of all its muni- 
 
 * Burk, II. 172. t Cotton, 6. 
 
 % Burwell, 17. § Ibid. || Ibid. 
 
 36* 
 
426 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 tions of war, leaving multitudes of frightened people 
 within its walls at the mercy of the prowling savages. 
 Fresh murders, and the robbery of the fort, stimulated 
 the convention to a decision. All the articles of 
 agreement were passed, concluding with the words, 
 " and we do swear, that we will him, the said Gen- 
 eral, and the army under his command, aid and assist 
 accordingly." It was also expressly declared in the 
 body of the engagement, that they did " believe in 
 their consciences that it consisted with the welfare of 
 the country, and with their allegiance to his Most 
 Sacred Majesty." Writs were then issued, in his 
 Majesty's name, and signed by Bacon and four of 
 the Council who were present, for the election of 
 an Assembly, to meet on the 4th of September. 
 
 The General, now having the sanction of the peo- 
 ple, and their warrant that he might proceed without 
 molestation, once more departed upon the errand of 
 mercy and retribution which he had so long been 
 striving to accomplish. By his previous excursions, 
 the Indians had become aware that the wrath of the 
 colonists was aroused, and that a vigorous war was 
 at hand. This had occasioned a new combination of 
 the various border tribes for offence and defence. No 
 sooner, therefore, had Bacon retraced his steps to 
 baffle the schemes of the Governor, than they had 
 resumed their bloody incursions. To put a stop to 
 these was now his first object, and he quickly drove 
 them back from the confines of Gloster. They re- 
 treated slowly before him, annoying him whenever 
 they could without serious exposure, and confining 
 themselves to stealthy and harassing operations. 
 More or less of them, however, fell victims to the 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 427 
 
 vigilance and resolution of the General. He also 
 destroyed several of their villages, their corn-fields, 
 and their granaries. Still they kept on his front; 
 sometimes showing themselves, and shouting deri- 
 sively beyond gunshot; and sometimes firing from 
 ambush upon the advanced scouts, then instantly 
 darting away, unseen and scathless. 
 
 Thus step by step, and from point to point, they 
 drew the army into the forest depths ; on, and still 
 on, from the Pamunkey towns to the Chickahominy, 
 and thence still farther into the wilds. They were 
 luring the Virginians toward the point where their 
 warriors were gathering with overwhelming force, to 
 smite the strength of the colony at a blow. And the 
 young General and his men followed their lure un- 
 consciously, boldly, steadily, eager to avenge the 
 widows and the fatherless ; by day, toiling slowly 
 along their pathless and perilous course ; by night, 
 stretching themselves, wearied but still stout-hearted, 
 upon the naked ground. Stimulated as they were by 
 the recollection of neighbors and kindred burned at 
 the stake or flayed alive, they needed no other incen- 
 tive to perseverance, and asked no better fare. At 
 length the ambuscades grew more frequent ; painted 
 warriors were oftener seen at safe distance, waving or 
 shouting defiance ; but still the hardy pioneers pa- 
 tiently pushed on whither the foe was gathering for 
 battle. Could they have been told beforehand that 
 he would have stood at bay, they would have heard 
 the news with exultation. But they were destined to 
 meet him suddenly, on ground of his own choosing, 
 in his full strength, and ravening for slaughter.* 
 
 * Burk, II. 175, 176. 
 
428 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 There were now strong palisades around the dwell- 
 ing at Curie's, — the name of Bacon's residence, — 
 sadly marring the beauty of the spot, but necessary 
 for safety. These had been erected immediately after 
 the murder of Bacon's overseer and servant. The 
 laborers upon the plantation used their own cabins, 
 which were detached and somewhat scattered, only 
 as places for food and rest during the heat of the day. 
 Within a very few miles of the boundary line be- 
 tween the Indians and the colony, and where the 
 population was comparatively scanty, they had not 
 the same security against attack which some other 
 districts enjoyed under the new military arrangement. 
 Consequently, they were ever on their guard ; tilling 
 the field under the watch of sentinels, and each work- 
 man with his weapons at hand. Before evening twi- 
 light, they daily returned in a compact body to their 
 master's mansion, which now served as a fort. The 
 one passage through the palisades was then closed 
 and strongly secured ; and soon after, a watch was 
 set for the night. Marion had constituted herself the 
 commander and inspector of the place, which was as 
 clearly insurrection against the authority of her hus- 
 band — for she had no " commission " — as his defen- 
 sive behavior, at the outset of disturbances, was insur- 
 rection against that of the Governor. She had been 
 well informed, from time to time, by her husband's 
 messengers, of his embarrassments and his measures ; 
 but for a few days past she had received no tidings. 
 She only knew, that, not far from Chickahominy 
 Swamp, he had struck into the pathless forest, and 
 that the Indians were hanging on his march. She 
 had her solicitude about him, of course; but it did 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 429 
 
 not prey upon her peace, for it was sweetly subdued 
 and held in check by that Heaven-born faith through 
 which many, " of whom the world was not worthy, 
 have stopped the mouths of lions, escaped the edge 
 of the sword, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to 
 flight the armies of the aliens." Her choice things 
 she intrusted to the disposal of Our Father. Thus 
 she was dauntless and placid, yet full of care and 
 vigilance. She felt just as responsible for the safe- 
 keeping of her dependents, as though there were no 
 Eye which neither slumbers nor sleeps. When they 
 returned from the field, she met them at the gate, to 
 gladden them with her bright face and her words of 
 welcome, to inspect the fastening of bar and bolt, to 
 receive the key, to unchain the dogs, to go the rounds 
 of the enclosure, and to apportion to each one his am- 
 munition and duty for the night. Upon these occa- 
 sions, she was always attended by a gray-headed man, 
 maimed of an arm, who was sometimes very garru- 
 lous about the thundering charges of Cromwell's 
 Ironsides. He was always wishing that he had a 
 squadron of such fellows in Henrico County. Noth- 
 ing ever did stand before them, he said, and nothing 
 ever could. By one week's ride, with them at his 
 heels, he would have all the infernal savages within 
 twenty miles, as easily as a boy would minims in a 
 scoop-net. Saved-by- Grace Staunton did not like the 
 Prayer-Book. It looked too much like the hand- 
 writing of ordinances, he said. If other folks could 
 prevail with Heaven by it, he had no objection ; but 
 he never could. 
 
 One evening, about the middle of the month, after 
 the gate was secured and the servants had dispersed, 
 
430 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 the old soldier, who was precise in his ways, vainly 
 attempted, as he had vainly done a thousand times 
 before, to assume a measured martial tread by the side 
 of his mistress, as they proceeded around the circuit. 
 The short, quick step of the lady pothered him ex- 
 ceedingly ; and every few yards his awkward skip of 
 a step — to time for once with her — showed how 
 much for his comfort it would have been had she been 
 trained in the camp, and how much he would like to 
 berate her if she were only a man. But Saved-by- 
 Grace was as deferential to his superiors as he was 
 exact in his locomotion. Besides, he was strongly 
 attached to Marion, having been born into the service, 
 and under the roof-tree, of her father's family. So he 
 stoically shuffled along without a murmur. But the 
 privileged old man had talking-matter to his heart's 
 content. 
 
 " Why do the heathen rage ? " he exclaimed, as soon 
 as the servants were out of ear-shot. 
 
 " You have the same accounts of the Indians, I 
 suppose, Staunton ? " 
 
 " Dame Bacon ! of a surety they come up like the 
 frogs of Egypt." 
 
 " What can be their purpose ? " 
 
 u The Lord only knoweth the hearts of men. I did 
 think that they would pay us a visit. But they have 
 some other plan, I fear." 
 
 "You fear!" 
 
 " I should like a brush with them." 
 
 M But not around our house, Staunton ! " 
 
 " And why not ? Marion Bacon is not afraid ; and 
 it would be the most convenient place for me." 
 
 " No, Staunton, I am not afraid ; and should they 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 431 
 
 come, I think I should do my duty. But I shall not 
 entice them, nor pray for their coming." 
 
 " I should be glad of their coming, for the sake of 
 their scattering. I remember Mr. Shortridge and 
 William." 
 
 " But you said they have some other plan. What ? " 
 
 " I do not know, dame. But since they have be- 
 gun to show themselves more within a day or two, I 
 find they have a fort." 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 " On Crooked Run, about two miles and a half — 
 peradventure three miles — from here ; and there are 
 some hundreds of them there, at least." 
 
 " How do you know this ? " 
 
 " By my eyes." 
 
 The lady looked up in astonishment ; and her coun- 
 tenance plainly expressed displeasure. 
 
 " Dame Bacon ! a garrison should always send out 
 scouts for intelligence of the enemy. It is as impor- 
 tant as any practice in war, in order to ascertain his 
 position, his force, and his movements. It was said 
 unto me in a vision of the last night, * Saved-by- 
 Grace ! ' And I said, ' Here am I.' And lo ! the vis- 
 ion frowned until I did quake exceedingly. Then it 
 said : ' Sirrah ! thou art a lazy scoundrel. Thou lov- 
 est ease, when the enemies of the Lord are round 
 about. Gird up thy loins. Search out their hiding- 
 place, and bring word unto thy mistress. Albeit, the 
 Lord will give thee the souls of those in thy keeping.' 
 And so it was, dame, that I conferred not with flesh 
 and blood, that is, with you ; for I must be obedient 
 unto the vision, as I was this day." 
 " At the peril of your life." 
 
432 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " Which is safe, and at your service." 
 
 " You have done wrong, Staunton. But how did 
 you go, and what did you discover ? " 
 
 " Good dame ! as for the manner of my going, for 
 the most part, after I had gained the woods, it was on 
 my hands and knees, — I mean, on my knees and 
 hand, — though ofttimes I was fain to crawl like a 
 snake." 
 
 " It is a wonder you were not shot and scalped." 
 
 " The devils were like grasshoppers, but the Lord 
 suffered them not." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I could not judge nicely of the distance, for I 
 never reconnoitred before after such a fashion. But 
 to judge from the time and by the feeling of my 
 limbs, I should say a dozen miles, only I know better. 
 It is about three. They have a strong stockaded fort, 
 and it stands on a height overhanging the creek. 
 They have a great gathering there. I should think 
 they must be expecting their master." 
 
 "Their master!" 
 
 " Called Apollyon, sometimes, dame ! " 
 
 Such was all, of importance to our narrative, which 
 passed at the time between Marion and her lieuten- 
 ant. The little family garrison was scrupulously in- 
 spected, as usual; the evening meal was eaten in 
 peace ; and the evening offering of prayer was ren- 
 dered ; when all retired to rest, save those on guard, 
 and the lady, who sat musing by the window till the 
 moon went down. 
 
 The morrow brought a new state of things at 
 Curie's. The first incident which attracted the atten- 
 tion of Marion was a commotion in the dog-kennels. 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 433 
 
 The animals, about the middle of the forenoon, sud- 
 denly grew uneasy, starting, growling, and in a very 
 short time howling and frantic. Marion knew at 
 once that there was some sufficient cause for appre- 
 hension ; and though she could neither see nor hear a 
 single other token of danger, her mind immediately 
 reverted to the strange increase of Indians in the 
 neighborhood, and to their new garrison on Crooked 
 Run. She had no doubt the mastiffs had detected 
 some hostile movement on the part of the savages, for 
 whom the creatures had a trained antipathy. Nor 
 was she long in suspense, for she soon perceived her 
 servants at this unusual hour returning from the field, 
 evidently for refuge. Saved-by-Grace, for reasons 
 which he had not chosen to communicate, had that 
 morning gone out with them, and was now marching, 
 with his best military air, at their head. The old sol- 
 dier had for weeks kept them under daily drill, and 
 had not only trained them to certain evolutions adapt- 
 ed to repel attack both in field and fort, but to a reg- 
 ularity of tread which was his special pride and de- 
 light. In his best style, he now wheeled them in 
 front of the gate just as it was thrown open by a stout 
 wench whom her mistress had sent for the purpose ; 
 nor did he suffer them to break up their array until he 
 had led them with due precision to the usual point 
 within the inclosure, when they were dismissed in 
 true military form. Marion was impatient under the 
 Roundhead's formality ; but nis duty as a commander 
 over, he came directly to report to his superior. With 
 a stiff military salute, he announced : " There is a 
 noise, Dame Bacon, in the camp of the Philistines, — 
 a noise as of many rushing to battle. The Lord hath 
 
 37 
 
434 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 raised up some avenger of blood, and sent him forth 
 to execute judgment." 
 
 " Staunton ! your words are fitter for a conventicle 
 than for a camp. Drop the Puritan twang, if you 
 can, and say in swift Saxon wjiat the matter is. 
 What did you do at Worcester and Marston Moor ? 
 Quote Scripture ? " 
 
 " Fought." 
 
 " And now?" 
 
 " Report." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Fighting." 
 
 "Well; where? who? — " 
 
 " Crooked Run." 
 
 a _ what do — " 
 
 " Indians." 
 
 " — y ou know ? " 
 
 " Hear firing." 
 
 w Is that all you know ? " 
 
 " All." And the old disciplinarian made a motion 
 as if he would have said, " Hark ! " 
 
 Marion now listened, and could faintly hear the 
 irregular and incessant rattle of distant fire-arms. 
 
 " Certainly, there is fighting. Staunton ! it must 
 be General Bacon." 
 
 " General Bacon." 
 
 " Do you think so truly ? and is — " 
 " Truly." 
 
 « _ it at the Indian fort ? " 
 " The fort." 
 
 Marion was much moved ; for she had now no doubt 
 that Bacon had made his way across from Chicka- 
 hominy Swamp, and doubtless on the track of the very 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 435 
 
 Indians who had so strangely and numerously infested 
 the neighborhood. 
 
 " What shall we do, Staunton ? " 
 
 " The God of battles, verily he — Nothing." 
 
 " At least we will see that everything is in order for 
 defence, lest there should be need. Come." 
 
 As she said so, and turned to go, the old martinet 
 dimly smiled ; but the quick eye of Marion saw it. 
 
 " You are amused, Staunton." 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Loose your tongue now ; — a little, Staunton, 
 only a little. What amuses you ? " 
 
 " That you are so good a general, dame." 
 
 "A- general! How?" 
 
 " A good general never takes anything for granted 
 which he can see to himself. Howbeit — " He hesi- 
 tated ; but at a sign from the lady, added : " Every- 
 thing is in order, dame, so far as I could have it. 
 But we shall have no need of fighting." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Should the General be worsted, he would retreat 
 hither, and there would be fighting here. But he will 
 not be. The Indians will be routed, and this is al- 
 most the only direction in which they will not flee." 
 
 " You are probably right. Still I shall see to the 
 priming of every gun." And she did. She inspected 
 every weapon, every powder-horn, every bullet-pouch ; 
 and by her coolness and cheerfulness, without a single 
 exhortation, infused every servant with the spirit of 
 " do or die." 
 
 " Golly ! " said an African, black as ebony, " dem 
 brak debbils no scare my missus ! Dey better shut de 
 white ob de eye where she be ! " 
 
436 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 " What did you say, Cato ? " for Marion had partly 
 overheard. 
 
 " Cato no say, missus ! him tink." 
 
 " And you think you are afraid ? " 
 
 " Golly, missus ! nebber, nebber ! Cato be cussed 
 shame nigger when him catch 'fraid 'fore missus ! " 
 
 The forenoon passed away, but the dull report of 
 guns was still heard at intervals. The strife was evi- 
 dently protracted ; and notwithstanding all her efforts 
 at self-control, Marion was conscious of anxiety to a 
 degree which was becoming painful, especially when 
 she caressed her babe and coaxed out its unpractised 
 smiles. But she was soon relieved. About three 
 o'clock two horsemen approached at a round trot, and 
 halted before the gate. It devolved upon Saved-by- 
 Grace to meet them, which he did, and, after a mo- 
 ment's parley, gave them admission. They bore the 
 marks of hard fighting ; and one of them was in a 
 condition which required both lint and restoratives. 
 They had been despatched by Bacon, from whom 
 they brought a verbal message that he was near, and 
 should soon be at Curie's. They also gave an account 
 of the long and desperate fight, which had ended in 
 the complete rout of the Indians. It was remem- 
 bered long afterwards as the battle of Bloody Run, at 
 which the strength of the Indians in that district was 
 for ever crippled.* There had been a terrible slaugh- 
 ter of them before they would abandon the strife. 
 
 In less than an hour afterwards came in wounded 
 men, some having yet strength enough to keep their 
 feet or saddles, some transported on litters. They 
 
 * Burk, II. 176. 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 437 
 
 had been sent forward by their General for the at- 
 tendance and repose which they could not have in 
 the camp. 
 
 Marion's premises now assumed the aspect of a 
 hospital ; and she devoted herself assiduously to such 
 surgery as she could contrive. The poor sufferers lay 
 scattered here and there, some on the floors of the 
 house, some out of doors, some on pallets and some 
 on the ground. Marion went from man to man, to 
 minister to their relief; and as she kneeled beside 
 them, examining and washing their wounds, carefully 
 applying lint and bandage, or ministering cordials, — 
 all with her own hands, — the rough backwoodsmen 
 half forgot faintness and suffering in admiration of 
 her precious Christianity, and faltered more ejacula- 
 tions to Heaven in her behalf than she heard or 
 dreamed off. But when she stood over the litter 
 of a half-clad Indian chief, hideous as paint and 
 hate and ebbing life could make him, and wet his 
 parched lips, and smiled as he woke to consciousness, 
 and made appliances to his ghastly wounds, and ad- 
 justed his rude couch for his greater ease, and when 
 he looked so wonderingly and mutely at this fair min- 
 ister of mercy, the scene was worthy of the immor- 
 tality which only the pencil of genius can give. Yet 
 this was not the whole picture; for at length, but 
 unknown to her, in the background stood her hus- 
 band, proud and happy, as a successful general so 
 young had a right to be, yet prouder and happier still 
 as he watched with admiration, but without surprise, 
 the Christ-like occupation of his wife. 
 
 A busy, sleepless night it was for both, and few 
 were the minutes which they could snatch for conver- 
 
 37* 
 
438 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 sation, so busy was she with the wounded, and he in 
 preparing for an early march. There were many 
 prisoners at the fort, and a detachment must be left 
 to guard them, while he should proceed with his main 
 force, and with all speed, across the James River, to 
 chastise the Appomattock Indians, and others farther 
 south. Allowing his hardy men only indispensable 
 rest, the next day he was again on the march. This 
 southern expedition, which he prosecuted as far as 
 the banks of the Roanoke, was also successful ; and 
 he returned thence "to the head of York River," 
 where his presence, for some reasons to us unknown, 
 was temporarily required.* But his men had been 
 worn by a most harassing campaign, in which they 
 had travelled several hundred miles in various direc- 
 tions. Such being their condition, and " the Indians 
 having been sent packing a grate way from the bor- 
 ders," he had dismissed his army to their homes, that 
 they might recruit " against the next intended expedi- 
 tion," reserving only a few as a resource in any sud- 
 den emergency. 
 
 It was now the 9th or 10th of September, when 
 suddenly Lawrence, Drummond, and Hansford, who 
 bore a commission of colonel under Bacon, appeared at 
 his quarters, with the news that Sir William Berkeley 
 on the 8th had entered Jamestown in triumph, with a 
 force of from six hundred to a thousand men. The 
 General had before heard that Giles Bland, who had 
 attempted with a force of four armed vessels to sur- 
 prise the Governor at Accomac, had failed, himself 
 
 * Compare Burk, II. 176, with Campbell, 91, and note, and with 
 Cotton, 7. 
 
THE INSURRECTION. 439 
 
 and his vessels having been captured, partly by strata- 
 gem and partly by treachery. 
 
 u Sir William had us under the guns of sixteen or 
 seventeen armed vessels," said Hansford. " Our de- 
 fensive means were nothing. We numbered, to be 
 sure, some eight or nine hundred men, but we could 
 not resist artillery." 
 
 " We had no choice," added Lawrence, " but to 
 turn traitors or abandon the place. We chose, and 
 advised, the latter." 
 
 The General mused in silence while these and other 
 circumstances were related, manifesting neither sur- 
 prise nor disturbance. At last he said coolly : " The 
 fox must be unearthed. I have only three hundred 
 tired men, but they have stout hearts." 
 
 Quick in his action as in his decision, he beat to 
 arms, would not wait for reinforcements, but, confid- 
 ing in the enthusiasm and tried courage of those 
 about him, immediately commenced a rapid march 
 toward Jamestown.* 
 
 * Burk, II. 182. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE SIEGE.— THE CATASTROPHE. 
 
 t a „ a The sun was just going down, when, to the 
 great consternation of Sir "William Berkeley) 
 the arch-rebel was upon him. Bacon, first pausing 
 on the height of the mainland to concert his plans, led 
 his men along the neck towards the town. Throwing 
 himself from his horse, he speedily traced with his own 
 hands a line for an intrenchment in front of a palisade 
 which intersected the neck, barring farther advance. 
 Calling upon his men to lose no time, when a few 
 hours of hard labor that night would save them blood 
 and life to-morrow, and throwing off his upper gar- 
 ments, he seized a spade, and plied his own strength 
 to the work. The men could scarcely drag them- 
 selves along for weariness when they had entered 
 upon the isthmus, and now would gladly have lain 
 down upon the marshy ground and slept. But their 
 young General had imparted his own indomitable 
 enthusiasm, and they forgot their fatigue under the 
 inspiration of his example. Every man sprang to 
 the work ; the moon shone out to cheer and help 
 them; and before midnight they had thrown up a 
 breastwork of trees and earth sufficient for their 
 present purpose. They then took refreshment, and 
 lay down exhausted on the wet ground and slept. 
 " My dear aunt!" said Bacon to a royalist lady, 
 
THE SIEGE. 441 
 
 who, to her surprise, found herself in a rebel camp at 
 daybreak f " my dear aunt ! my word for it, I did not 
 expect to find you here ! " 
 
 " It 's not with my consent, I assure you," replied 
 Madame Bacon, in a tone of resentment. " I have 
 no relish for a midnight ride on a pillion with a vulgar 
 trooper, and a rebel too " ; and the lady pursed her 
 lips and straightened, as though she felt the indignity 
 keenly. " May I be permitted to ask what are Gen- 
 eral Bacon's commands ? " 
 
 " Dear madam ! Colonel Bacon is now with Sir 
 William Berkeley. You will not object to joining 
 him, I suppose ? " 
 
 " By no means, most gracious nephew ! So you 
 have given me this very odd ride, just to introduce 
 me to my husband ! I am distinguished by your 
 kind consideration, surely." 
 
 " I protest, dear aunt," taking her hand, in his old, 
 affectionate way, " that I had no purpose of bringing 
 you here. I wished for some ladies, to effect certain 
 purposes of my own, and sent my horsemen to catch 
 them ; but your arrest is an accident." 
 
 " I believe you, Nat ; for I never had reason not 
 to. So kiss me, and let 's make up. Stop ! I am 
 to go to the Colonel, am I ? That 's the condition ! " 
 
 " Certainly you are." 
 
 " Well, then," and the old lady exchanged the kiss 
 of peace. 
 
 " And now how long — There ! I forgot when in 
 the bargain ! You may keep me here a week, for 
 aught I know. Ah, boy ! how is it ? " 
 
 " No, no, aunt," replied Bacon with a laugh ; " I 
 take no advantage of that. You meant immediately, 
 
442 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 and I knew it. It would be dishonorable to detain 
 you. As soon as the sun is up, you shall go. Your 
 dress might not be perceived from the town, if you 
 should go now ; and a shot might strike you." 
 
 " Well, boy ; you know best. I 've no wish to be 
 shot, and no wish to sit on this stump longer than is 
 necessary." 
 
 " If I had a tent or a chair — " 
 
 "0,1 know all about it ! But now, you young 
 rebel, what do you want of women ? " 
 
 " Will you tell the Colonel and Sir William ? " 
 
 " Nat ! do you suppose J can't keep a secret ? " 
 
 " No ; but I wish you to tell them." 
 
 " Do you ! hm — m — m; that depends — The Colo- 
 nel I will ; but — but — Sir William ; that depends 
 upon what it is." 
 
 " Well, you promise for the Colonel ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " That will do. You see, aunt, that I have n't 
 completed my breastwork." 
 
 " No, I don't see any such thing. I should think 
 it was complete enough. Who 'd want to scramble 
 over such a tear-my-eyes-out thing as that is ? " 
 
 " Well, it is n't finished, and I must finish it. But 
 if I put my men up there to work, they will be shot 
 at from the town." 
 
 " It 's likely. You 'd better not." 
 
 " Now I intend that the ladies whom I have sent 
 for shall help." 
 
 " What ! up there ? " 
 
 " Up there." 
 
 " Bless my soul, Nathanael ! are you in your senses ? 
 W T hat do ladies know about such things ? D' you 
 
THE SIEGE. 443 
 
 expect ladies to shovel dirt and chop wood ? Besides, 
 they '11 be shot at!" 
 
 " Precisely, if you don't prevent it." 
 
 u Me ? Good gracious ! " 
 
 " But you promised you would tell the Colonel." 
 
 « To be sure I did." 
 
 " Well, tell him that I have not finished my works, 
 but that I shall do it immediately. And when my 
 men are about it, Madam Bray, Madam Page, and 
 Madam Bullard, whom you see yonder with those 
 other ladies, — all of whose husbands are royalists, 
 and in Jamestown, — will be side by side with my 
 men. If, then, the Gov — if Sir William chooses to 
 fire upon us, he can do so." 
 
 The old lady lifted her hands and eyes in astonish- 
 ment, but was silent, and rather grave. She was 
 about to reply, when a volley of fire-arms outside the 
 trenches made her spring, like a young girl, to her 
 feet, and grasp her nephew's arm. 
 
 " Sit still, aunt ! that is, if you like your seat. It is 
 a small party which I have sent out to wake up Sir 
 William." 
 
 It does not appear, in the annals of the times, what 
 precise method the young General adopted to convey 
 his kinswoman and ambassadress in safety to the 
 town. But that he did so is certain, although she 
 compelled him first to submit in all meekness to a 
 brisk homily on the folly and peril of rebellion, and to 
 an unavailing exhortation to repentance. Soon after 
 she had disappeared through the defences of the town, 
 he gallantly addressed the other ladies, who stood 
 trembling with apprehension, telling them that they 
 had nothing to fear, and should be treated with all 
 
444 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 respect. Then, introducing each to an officer, and 
 offering his arm courteously to Madam Bray, he po- 
 litely requested her to accompany him. He was fol- 
 lowed by the officers with their ladies, — who were 
 M mightily astonished at this project," —and all were 
 soon distributed along the unfinished breastwork. 
 The labor of construction was immediately recom- 
 menced on the whole line. As soon as it was com- 
 pleted, the officers released the ladies from duty, and 
 escorted them to a place of safety. Madam Bacon 
 had undoubtedly delivered her message ; for, although 
 Sir William had just planted " three grate guns at a 
 hundred or hundred and fifty paces," which could 
 have easily torn to pieces the crude works of Bacon, 
 not a shot had been fired " while these Ladyes white 
 Aprons " were visible. " Neather Sir William nor 
 the husbands were voide of amazements at this sub- 
 till invention. If Mr. Fuller thought it strange that 
 the Divell's black gard should be enrouled God's soul- 
 ders,* they made it no less wonderful that their inno- 
 cent and harmless wives should thus be entred a white 
 garde to the Divell. But this is manifest," adds our 
 old authority, " that Bacon knit more knots by his 
 owne head in one day, than all the towne was able to 
 untye in a whole weeke." 
 
 It soon became known to Sir William, that " the 
 Gent: women, Bacon's Gardian Angles, was, by 
 order, drawne out of danger." He immediately # 
 opened a brief fire from the " three grate guns,"f 
 
 * Alluding, doubtless, to the graceless rabble whom Sir William, in 
 his straits, had enlisted. 
 
 t So I understand the words, " after a terable noyse of thunder and 
 lightning out of the Easte." 
 
THE SIEGE. 445 
 
 after which he ordered an assault. About seven or 
 eight hundred men, in good order, and with every 
 show of resolution, marched upon the intrenchments. 
 A steady, well-directed fire brought them to a halt. 
 " A contest of a few minutes " was sufficient for the 
 assailants. Seeing many of their number dead and 
 wounded, they turned suddenly upon their heels, and 
 fled pell-mell within their lines. The Baconians, 
 with loud shouts, leaped from their trenches in pur- 
 suit, but were almost instantly recalled by then Gen- 
 eral, who feared that so sudden a retreat was but a 
 lure to a snare. Some of Berkeley's officers, it is 
 said, were frantic with vexation, and with tears be- 
 sought their men to rally, — which was doubtless 
 true. But it is also recorded, and with equal proba- 
 bility, that, even before the sally, " a Collonell's or a 
 Captain's Commission" would have been sold by 
 those who held them " for a chunke of a pipe." 
 
 Even in Accomac, where no insurrectionary spirit 
 had been manifested, the Governor had been met 
 with petitions against grievances, instead of offers of 
 service, — in short, with a significant coolness, which, 
 to one in his situation, was both humiliating and dis- 
 tressing. And after he had, " by a sort of miracle," 
 captured Bland's armed vessels without a drop of 
 blood, he was obliged to levy his forces from the very 
 dregs of the people ; and even they were brought to 
 his standard only by dazzling promises, — freedom 
 for servants, and plunder and confiscations for all. 
 Such recruits could not stand before the intrepid 
 ardor of men contending against oppression ; and 
 the moment they had tested the stern mettle of the 
 patriots, they had sense enough to perceive, that, if 
 
 38 
 
446 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 plunder and confiscation did lie in the distance, 
 wounds and death intervened. These they had not 
 bargained for, and, finding them in the ascendant, 
 declined the adventure. Berkeley had but about 
 twenty men who cherished or could even, compre- 
 hend loyalty. He was exceedingly incensed at the 
 cowardice and worthlessness of his followers, yet 
 sternly resolved to brave his enemies to the last. 
 But when, on the next day, Bacon planted cannon 
 upon his trenches, which he brought to bear both 
 upon the town and vessels, his chivalric resolution 
 passed only for insanity with his cowardly merce- 
 naries, or, at best, for the childish folly of a broken 
 old man. They began to show symptoms of mutiny. 
 The twenty were willing, if he so decreed, to bury 
 themselves with him in the ruins of the town ; yet 
 they frankly told him, that, with such men around 
 him, a general assault from Bacon — which was con- 
 stantly expected — would insure a useless and dis- 
 graceful ruin ; and that his life and honor might be 
 reserved for better auspices. 
 
 At length the haughty old man bowed his head to 
 the tempest ; and, a week after Bacon had made his 
 appearance, the royalists silently abandoned the town 
 at midnight, re-embarked, and dropped down the river 
 twenty miles, where they came to anchor. When the 
 morning revealed the flight, Bacon, after some precau- 
 tions against a possible ambuscade, took possession of 
 the town. He found the houses stripped of every valu- 
 able, the cannon spiked, and the streets deserted. The 
 position of the fleet indicated an intent to return at 
 any favorable opportunity. News came that Colonel 
 Brent was advancing against the General from the 
 
THE SIEGE. 447 
 
 Potomac, at the head of a thousand men. The town 
 — in itself insignificant — must be abandoned, for the 
 purpose of meeting Brent. It would then serve only 
 as a fortress and base of operations for Sir "William. 
 For these reasons, it was resolved to lay it in ashes ; 
 and on the night of the same day, the smoke and 
 glare and flying cinders of Jamestown announced to 
 the fleet below that it was no longer a hold to be 
 striven for. Two of the best houses were those of 
 Lawrence and Drummond. Each fired his own. 
 Only the ruined tower of the church, gray with moss 
 and draped with ivy, now marks where Jamestown — 
 was.* 
 
 Bacon now withdrew to Greenspring, — Berkeley's 
 private residence, — where he kept free quarters with 
 his men ; partly to give them that rest which they so 
 much needed, and partly to watch the movements 
 of the fleet. The Governor's house was doubtless 
 roughly used — " almost ruined," it was said — by 
 men who had certainly been roughly used by him. 
 They found there household goods of great value, 
 three hundred sheep, seventy horses and mares, — -an 
 ample stud, certainly, for the Governor of an impov- 
 erished colony, — and abundant corn and provisions, 
 besides "two great beasts"; none of which his Honor 
 ever saw again. However a nice casuist may regard 
 such free living at another's cost, yet when it is re- 
 membered that Sir William had just despoiled Law- 
 rence's house of all its valuable plate, and every other 
 house in Jamestown of whatever was worth the tak- 
 
 * These particulars of the siege and destruction of Jamestown are 
 derived from T. M.'s Account, 21 ; Cotton's, 7, 8 ; Burwell Narrative, 
 20-26; Burk, II. 176-190,251,252. 
 
448 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 ing, he had no right to complain of the reprisal. After 
 two or three days, rinding that the fleet had weighed 
 anchor and proceeded again to Accomac, Bacon re- 
 sumed his march. His first business was with those 
 of Gloster County who had not yet taken the engage- 
 ment agreed upon by the convention at the Middle 
 Plantation. For this purpose he issued his sum- 
 mons, commanding all the inhabitants to meet him 
 at the court-house on a certain day. While this 
 business was still in progress, one Captain Potter 
 arrived " post-haste " from Rappahannock with infor- 
 mation that Brent was advancing rapidly. The 
 drums instantly beat to arms, and the General ap- 
 pealed at once to the patriotism of his soldiers : " Will 
 you meet a thousand men resolved to fight you ? " 
 He was answered by an enthusiastic shout, and a 
 demand to be led on without delay. This was done. 
 When they had advanced three days, — by easy 
 stages, that they might be fresh for work, — news 
 came that Brent's men had suddenly deserted him ; 
 and that he himself "was mightily astonished, say- 
 ing that they had forsaken the stowtest man, and 
 ruin'd the fairest estate in Verginia." But most of 
 them were partisans of Bacon, and the rest had no 
 heart to measure strength with the men who had 
 just put the Governor himself to flight. And " they 
 being (as they thought) more obliged to looke after 
 their owne concernes and lives, than to take notis, 
 eather of his vallour, or estate, or of their owne cred- 
 its, were not to be rought upon by anything that he 
 could do or say, contrary to their own fancies." 
 
 The General now returned to meet the Gloster 
 men according to appointment, who appeared to the 
 
THE CATASTROPHE. 449 
 
 number of six or seven hundred. They hesitated, but 
 at a second meeting took the engagement. The suc- 
 cess of Bacon was now complete. The people's 
 rights had been legally restored. The forces of the 
 Indians had been so shattered, and their courage so 
 completely broken, that they " were never afterwards 
 able to make any firm stand against the whites, and 
 gradually became tributary to them." The Governor 
 had twice fled before the people, and had not a foot 
 of land in Virginia on which to stand. Brent's ava- 
 lanche had melted away. Even the temporizing and 
 tenacious royalists of Gloster had peaceably submit- 
 ted. The whole colony was under the authority of 
 the young patriot, who was now planning an expe- 
 dition to Accomac, the place of the Governor's re- 
 treat. 
 
 There was a Doctor Pate in Gloster County, whose 
 house had seemed for several days to be an object of 
 attraction, especially to the patriot soldiers. Officers 
 had been seen so often going to it and from it as to 
 excite remark. Soon there had appeared sentinels at 
 its avenues of approach, by whom most of the comers 
 had been refused admittance. Then it had been ob- 
 served, for a day or two past, that both officers and 
 soldiers who had approached made no other attempt 
 than to exchange a few words with the sentinels, and 
 then to go away with an aspect which indicated sor- 
 row. Sometimes small parties of soldiers had been 
 seen lingering in front of the mansion, and talking in 
 subdued tones, whose gestures and attitudes denoted 
 a deep interest in something pertaining to Dr. Pate's 
 house. No one, during these last days, had had free 
 
 38* 
 
450 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 access to the premises except Dr. Pate himself, Mr. 
 Lawrence, and a Mr. Wading, a clergyman who a 
 short time before had been put under guard by the 
 General for endeavoring to dissuade the people of 
 Gloster from taking the engagement. But during 
 the first day of October the sentinels were withdrawn, 
 save one, who seemed to be retained more for form 
 than for special duty. The house itself had now less 
 of a gloomy aspect, for windows which had been 
 closed and darkened were thrown open, and there 
 were more signs of life and bustle within. But the 
 appearance of the soldiery was far otherwise. From 
 general officer to drummer, they seemed to be suf- 
 fering under some common calamity, — to be over- 
 whelmed, not only with grief, but with consterna- 
 tion. A day or two afterwards, there was a gloomy 
 military parade before the mansion ; a coffin was 
 brought from the house and laid upon a bier, and 
 men of high rank in the army bore it upon their 
 shoulders to the neighboring church, preceded and 
 followed by the little army itself, with reversed arms 
 and muffled drums. The consecrated house was too 
 small by far for the concourse, and every window 
 was crowded from without by men striving to see 
 and hear the solemnities within. At length the fu- 
 neral chant and the funeral prayer were over, and the 
 coffin was brought out again and carried to the 
 churchyard, and lowered into the grave with the 
 usual ceremonies of honor. There were strong men 
 there who sobbed, and sunburnt cheeks which were 
 wet with tears ; and as the multitude stood there 
 with uncovered heads when the last solemn rite was 
 performed, a stranger might have supposed that each 
 
THE CATASTROPHE. 451 
 
 one had lost a father, or a brother, or a bosom friend. 
 And yet — unknown and unsuspected by all but those 
 necessarily privy to the falsehood — that coffin had 
 been laden only with stones ; the mourners had fol- 
 lowed no corpse to the grave. 
 
 But there was another coffin. It was very rude, 
 because the hands which shaped it were guided by 
 affection only, and not by skill. And there was an- 
 other funeral, which was very humble, and other 
 mourners, who were very few ; for the last service 
 which they were performing for the dead must be 
 performed by stealth. Their coffin shrouded a body, 
 — that of Virginia's friend, — the young General of 
 the people, who had been proclaimed an outlaw. 
 They must bury him in secret ; else, should the vin- 
 dictive Governor recover his power, he would move 
 heaven and earth to wreak vengeance on the man, 
 though dead, who had so withstood his oppressions. 
 He would surely rifle the grave of its trust, and drag 
 the bones of the patriot from their sanctuary, to dan- 
 gle on the way-side gibbet. Ingram and Lawrence 
 and Drummond would balk the malice of the oppres- 
 sor. The rude coffin had been taken from the house 
 by night. It had been carried, with its sacred treas- 
 ure, far away into the green forest, to a wild, se- 
 cluded spot, where even the hunter rarely if ever 
 strayed, — to a spot which will never be known until 
 the day of the revelation of all things. It was laid 
 upon the ground by its bearers, beneath the branches 
 of the cypress and the oak, just as the sun went down 
 on the day of the unreal funeral at Gloster. The 
 half-score of heavy-hearted friends dug Bacon's grave 
 there with their own hands. Darkness came swiftly 
 
452 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 in the depths of the woods ; but the wilderness which 
 gave a grave to the patriot gave also her torch-wood 
 for his obsequies. The grave was finished; the fu- 
 neral service was read ; dust was committed to dust ; 
 the turf with its adhering coppice was replaced where 
 it had grown ; all traces of the work were effaced ; 
 and then, beneath the sombre glare of their torches, 
 the soldier-friends, on their knees, joined hands over 
 the remains of their gallant General, in solemn cove- 
 nant never to reveal the place of his burial. " No 
 man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day."* 
 
 But Marion ! her grief, her secret consolation ! what 
 of those ? Gentle reader, History tells of heroes and 
 traitors, but not of widow's tears. God treasures 
 those. 
 
 The welfare of the whole colony had long been 
 depending upon the sagacity, watchfulness, and en- 
 ergy of their General. The load had been thrown 
 upon him suddenly. He had accepted it. He had 
 borne it, too, under circumstances the most trying, 
 both to his moral susceptibilities and his bodily pow- 
 ers. His own words affectingly describe the corrod- 
 ing indignation of an honorable mind, conscious of 
 its integrity : " It vexes me to the heart, that, while 
 we are hunting wolves, tigers, and bears, that daily 
 destroy our harmless sheep and lambs, we are pur- 
 sued with full cry, as more savage beasts." During 
 
 * The critical reader may, perhaps, indulge my supposition of a false 
 funeral of General Bacon ; for, dying as he did in the middle of his 
 army, it would seem to have been necessary to prevent all traces of 
 the real one; and, besides, it seems to be indicated — faintly, to be 
 sure — by the very peculiar language of T. M., p. 24, in Force, Vol. I. 
 
THE CATASTROPHE. 453 
 
 all this time he had had all the responsibility and 
 personal care of the country's affairs, both in the wil- 
 derness and in the settlements ; for although he had 
 his lieutenants in the several counties, upon whom he 
 laid important local trusts, yet of none did he ever 
 divest himself. On his various exhausting marches 
 from the York River to the Roanoke, and during all 
 his hours of watching and fighting, he had been con- 
 stantly anxious and constantly directing for the secur- 
 ity of the interior. And no sooner had he returned 
 thither, than he gave himself assiduously and without 
 rest to the personal inspection of every military posi- 
 tion, and to the yet more arduous work of sustaining 
 the unity and confidence of the people. In all his 
 marches and countermarches, he had shared danger 
 and fatigue with the meanest soldier. He had borne 
 at once the hardships of a private, the care and anxie- 
 ties of a general, and the burdens of a magistrate. 
 He had hardly begun to breathe after his return from 
 the banks of the Roanoke, before he was working in 
 the trenches at Jamestown, and sleeping night after 
 night, and unsheltered, upon the swampy ground. 
 To those more immediately about his person, it had 
 for some time been evident that these things were 
 undermining his strength. Still his zeal, his courage, 
 and his toil had continued unabated. But at length 
 fatigue, care, and exposure had induced a virulent 
 disorder of the bowels, under which nature had 
 yielded. 
 
 Through the whole of his remarkable public course, 
 he had been governed by no mercenary or ambitious 
 motives. Not rashly and in a fit of passion, but de- 
 liberately, hesitatingly, reluctantly even, he had been 
 
454 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 persuaded to move, without official sanction, in de- 
 fence of the frontiers. All his aggressive proceed- 
 ings had been against the Indians. His attack upon 
 Jamestown, and its destruction, had been strictly de- 
 fensive operations. He had never manifested rancor 
 against the Governor's person, nor a wish to usurp or 
 even to supersede his authority, until Sir "William's 
 own conduct rendered the latter necessary to prevent 
 a state of anarchy. He had staked his life, his for- 
 tune, and his good name, and had sought no immu- 
 nities but for the people. With a devoted soldiery at 
 his command, he had been guilty of no excesses, even 
 when flushed with success and tempted by the great- 
 est provocations. He was ever careful of shedding 
 Christian blood, — in this respect a perfect contrast to 
 Sir William Berkeley. At the time when the latter 
 was driven from the Middle Plantation, a spy had 
 been detected in Bacon's camp, who had repeatedly 
 deserted from party to party. He had been tried by 
 court-martial, and condemned to death. Bacon pub- 
 licly offered, that, if any one man in the army would 
 speak but one word in his behalf, he should be saved ; 
 and it was not until there was no hope of an inter- 
 cessor that he was executed, — the only instance in 
 which the young General took life, save what was 
 unavoidable in the heat and hurry of battle. When 
 Berkeley captured Bland and his vessels, he had pro- 
 ceeded instantly to the work of vengeance ; directly 
 hanging Captain Carver, one of Bland's men who 
 had gallantly " resolved," as he said, " to adventure 
 his old bones against the Indian rogues," and reserv- 
 ing Bland and others in irons for a like fate. When 
 the news of this cold-blooded execution was received 
 
THE CATASTROPHE. 455 
 
 by Bacon, Sir Henry Chichely, the Lieutenant-Gov- 
 ernor of the crown, was a prisoner. A word from 
 Bacon, and it would have been the knight's life for 
 Carver's, — a decree which Sir Henry expected, in 
 reprisal for what he himself " exclaimed against as a 
 most rash and wicked act of the Governor." But the 
 young patriot had not so learned patriotism as to re- 
 venge upon Chichely the sin and barbarity of Berke- 
 ley. Such had been the temperate and humane 
 course of a successful military leader with all power 
 in his hands ; a course rarely, if ever, equalled under 
 like circumstances and provocations. Happy was it 
 for him, that he could take such a review of the past, 
 when, in the flood-tide of his fortunes, his spirit was 
 suddenly called to give account for its deeds in the 
 body. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 REVENGE. 
 
 The spider sat in his Accomac cell. He 
 could now shoot out his webs over the whole 
 Chesapeake and its tributaries, in whatever direction 
 the wind would waft them. The besom which had 
 so long been sweeping down his toils — the head, 
 the heart, the right-arm of the insurrection — was 
 gone. More than a month since poor old Captain 
 Carver was netted ! He would spin another thread 
 and float it forth ; for he was hungry, — very hun- 
 gry : it might entangle something. He did so, and 
 the wind bore the messenger across the Bay to York 
 River. It caught upon the house of one Colonel 
 Reade, which stood where we now find Yorktown on 
 the map, and " snapt up," as the chroniclers express 
 it, one Colonel Hansford, as fine a young fellow as 
 ever lived, — a born Virginian, blithe, buoyant, hon- 
 orable, and fearless, — Colonel Thomas Hansford, 
 and twenty other hearty patriots, at one swoop. 
 They were brought over to Accomac, of course. 
 The twenty common ones " were committed to 
 prison," notwithstanding " the justifiers " of Sir "Wil- 
 liam Berkeley averred afterwards that he hung folks 
 because " he had no place of strength to secure 
 them." The prime one was for sacrifice. A court- 
 martial quickly arranged that matter. There was a 
 
REVENGE. 457 
 
 little time of grace granted him in his prison. For 
 only one thing did he pray to his judges ; " that he 
 might be shot like a soldier, and not be hanged like a 
 dog." This being denied him, he at once shut his 
 eyes and heart to the world, and betook himself in 
 his ceil to other prayer, in which he had " an Advo- 
 cate with the Father." Having thus intrusted his 
 soul, with confession and contrition, he went to meet 
 the sentence of those who only have power to kill the 
 body. 
 
 " Take notice," said he to the crowd before the 
 gallows ; " on the list of my sins before God, rebel- 
 lion is not written. I die a loyal subject and a lover 
 of my country. I have never taken up arms but for 
 the destruction of the Indians, the murderers of so 
 many Christians." 
 
 The youthful patriot was swung off, " the first Vir- 
 ginian borne that dyed upon a paire of Gallows." 
 This was on the 13th of November. 
 
 Sir William Berkeley began to breathe. Such suc- 
 cess, on the first effort, was encouraging ; and no 
 sooner had Major Beverly, the knight's purveyor, — 
 "a parson calculated to the Latitude of the sarvis," — 
 " delivered his fraight at Accomac," than he was off 
 upon another hunt. There was a little passage-at- 
 arms upon this occasion ; but Beverly succeeded, 
 and brought back to his master Captain Farlow, 
 Captain Wilford, Major Cheeseman, and five or six 
 others, Wilford was a dapper little fellow, but he 
 had a stout heart, and, in the matter of bearing arms, 
 a clear conscience ; so he could afford to meet Sir 
 William's vengeance coolly. He had just lost an eye 
 in the skirmish in which he was captured ; " but if I 
 
 39 
 
458 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 were stark blind," said he, knowing the Governor's 
 humor for hanging, " he would be sure to furnish me 
 a guide to the gallows, for he promised it to me long 
 ago for going with the General against the Indians 
 without a commission." 
 
 " What made you serve under the rebel Bacon ? " 
 asked Berkeley of Cheeseman. 
 
 " May it please your Honor," said the prisoner's 
 young and loving wife, giving him no time to reply, 
 " /made him." 
 
 " You ! " and Sir William eyed her keenly. 
 
 " Yes, your Honor, it was through my means. I 
 proposed it. I urged it. I provoked him to it. He 
 never would have done it but for me. I do therefore 
 beseech your Honor " — and she threw herself upon 
 her knees — u that the punishment may fall where it 
 belongs, — on the most guilty. The tempted may 
 find grace, but not the tempter. Let him be spared. 
 Send me to the gallows in his stead." 
 
 The beauty, the youth, the imploring attitude, the 
 self-devotion, the plea, the earnest, tremulous, tearful 
 face of the petitioner, drew from the Governor — a 
 parley? a relenting doubt ? a pardon? No. Even an 
 intercession so noble, so touching, could not move 
 him to pity or to admiration. He was iron. He was 
 savage. He was aristocratic. He was Sir William 
 Berkeley. He knew that what she said was truth. 
 But he also saw that, in throttling the husband, he 
 should crush the wife. He could have tivo victims. 
 
 He said but little ; but he called her a . It was 
 
 the foulest name for woman. The infamy of the 
 moment was his. He sunk his own good name for 
 ever by that one libel on a virtuous, interceding wife. 
 
REVENGE. 459 
 
 But God heard the intercessor. Cheeseman soon 
 died, to be sure, and he died a victim, — his life wrung 
 out of him by hard usage and want in his dungeon ; 
 but both were spared the ignominy of his public 
 strangling. 
 
 Farlow died as Wilford did, and so died the five or 
 six others. 
 
 Sir William Berkeley had breathed. He now took 
 heart. He was so animated by these oblations, that 
 he ventured across the Bay himself, chuckling in an- 
 ticipation of what his own presence would achieve. 
 He did not venture on shore yet, but cast anchor in a 
 good offing at Tindell's Point, and sent others ashore. 
 But the fortune of war was against them. The first 
 thing which happened was, that " thirty men and 
 boys," at Colonel Bacon's house, routed " a hundred 
 and twenty " men-soldiers whom his Honor sent 
 against them. He sent out Major Lawrence Smith, 
 too, with six hundred men against Ingram, Bacon's 
 successor. The Major ran away, and his men were 
 taken prisoners ; but Ingram generously dismissed 
 them to their own homes. A party of the patriots, 
 to be sure, had been taken prisoners on the south side 
 of James River ; but here, on the York, they were 
 knocking the royalists about like ninepins. Under 
 these discouraging circumstances, the Governor be- 
 thought himself of a new policy. He would stoop a 
 little, and try the effect of fair words and promises. 
 So he wrote several very courteous and even flatter- 
 ing letters to Walklate, an associate general with 
 Ingram, proposing to both a negotiation for peace, — 
 carefully keeping himself on shipboard still. The 
 overture was opportunely made. The people were 
 
460 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 weary of a strife which had so long interfered with 
 their industrial pursuits ; for their fields had been 
 necessarily neglected and their crops curtailed. The 
 supplies for the soldiery could be obtained only by 
 arbitrary levies, for which each party plundered the 
 other as occasion required or opportunity offered. 
 The controlling mind, the moral influence, and the 
 sound, effective eloquence, of Bacon were wanting. 
 Upon his successors the public mind could not rest 
 with the confidence which is necessary to unity, en- 
 ergy, and progress. It would seem, too, that these 
 officers had come to distrust their own position ; fear- 
 ing that, by a dissatisfied people or by aspiring rivals, 
 they might be displaced. Thus, we say, it was a 
 favorable time for Berkeley to proffer compromise. 
 To Ingram, Walklate, and Langstone, another prom- 
 inent leader, he offered a full pardon, without any 
 fine or other punishment ; they to restore all plunder 
 which they had taken from the Indians or the Eng- 
 lish. To these terms they readily agreed. But it 
 was necessary that the soldiers should be reconciled. 
 To this end, Captain Grantham, who had been the 
 Governor's medium of negotiation, and who, the sol- 
 diers were given to understand, was a friend to their 
 cause, arranged for a mediatorial interview. He was 
 received with respect, and proposed their surrender to 
 the authority of the Governor on the following condi- 
 tions : — 1. That those who wished it should still be 
 retained in arms to act against the Indians. 2. That 
 those who wished it should return to their own homes, 
 and receive the pay allowed to them by the last As- 
 sembly, according to the time they had been under 
 arms. 3. That those of them who were servants 
 
REVENGE. 461 
 
 should receive their freedom, for which their masters 
 should be indemnified from the public treasury. The 
 soldiers agreed, on these terms, to surrender their 
 arms, and the Governor proclaimed a general am- 
 nesty, excepting only certain persons named, partic- 
 ularly Lawrence and Drummond. Thus Berkeley 
 recovered his supremacy, and the insurrection was 
 at an end. 
 
 The stipulations were performed on the part of the 
 patriot officers and soldiers. But rank, we know, is 
 privileged to overreach the vulgar ; and Berkeley, 
 "counting it no sin" — no degradation? — i( to ac- 
 cost them, as the Devill courted Eve, with never to 
 be performed promises," scattered his to the wind the 
 moment he had the soldiers " in one vessill and their 
 arms in another." They went " to kiss the Gov- 
 ernor's hands," when the servants were instantly re- 
 turned to their masters — royalists ? — to serve out 
 their indentures ; the rest were made prisoners, or 
 taken into the Governor's service, according as he 
 judged them trusty or otherwise. This was the first 
 step of his Honor. TIiq second was openly and 
 practically to repudiate his own solemn promise of 
 general amnesty, just so far as caprice, or personal 
 pique, or covetousness might dictate. As soon as the 
 staff was in his own hands, the order of the day was 
 fines, confiscations, and strangling. 
 
 A court-martial was held on shipboard — 
 where Sir William still remained — on the 
 11th of January, and four men were summarily con- 
 demned and executed. On the 20th, Sir William 
 was informed that Drummond had been taken the 
 day before, half famished, in Chickahominy Swamp, 
 
 39* 
 
462 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 and was then on shore at Colonel Bacon's house. 
 Nothing could have been more gratifying ; for he had 
 long, had a special " rancor " against Drummond, con- 
 sidering " the Scotchman the originall cause of the 
 whole rebellion," — on what grounds, other than his 
 pretensions in common with others for the public 
 good, does not appear, for he had never borne arms. 
 Sir William, under the excitement of this capture, 
 now ventured for the first time ashore, and with a 
 mock bow accosted his new victim. 
 
 " Mr. Drummond ! you are very welcome. I am 
 more glad to see you than any man in Virginia. Mr. 
 Drummond ! you shall be hanged in half an hour." 
 
 " What your Honor pleases," coolly replied Drum- 
 mond, and the interview closed. 
 
 His Honor's threat was not, however, literally exe- 
 cuted, in respect to time. The prisoner was imme- 
 diately stripped, even of the ring on his finger, and 
 otherwise " barbarously treated " ; but he was kept in 
 irons until the next day, when he was conveyed to 
 Mr. Bray's house, condemned by court-martial within 
 half an hour after his arrival there, without legal trial, 
 without permission to answer for himself; and within 
 four hours after his sentence — being hurried away to 
 execution by the Governor's particular order — was 
 hung upon a gibbet in company "with a pitifull 
 Frenchman," "that had been very bloody."* But 
 Berkeley's " private grudge " did not end here. He 
 caused his victim's property — plantation and goods 
 — " to be given to himself, by his Council," and her 
 
 * There seems to have been something of national antipathy in Berke- 
 ley's " rancor " against " the Scotchman." 
 
REVENGE. 463 
 
 whom he had made a widow u to flee with her five 
 small children, and wander in the deserts and woods 
 until they were ready to starve." 
 
 " I know not whether it is lawful to wish a person 
 alive," said the Lord Chancellor of England, when 
 this case was reported to him in council after Berke- 
 ley's death, " but if it is, I could wish Sir William 
 Berkeley alive, to see what could be answered to such 
 a barbarity. But he has answered to it before this ! " 
 
 There were very, very few, throughout the whole 
 colony, who had not been implicated, directly or indi- 
 rectly, in the insurrection ; hardly a man who was 
 not thus obnoxious to the Governor's vengeance; 
 hardly a man who did not live in daily trembling 
 lest he should be arraigned ; hardly a man who did 
 not cast about in his mind for some means of escap- 
 ing from a country which bade fair to become a Gol- 
 gotha. It was in vain that men " came in and sub- 
 mitted themselves upon the Governor's proclamation 
 of pardon and indemnity." 'They were at once seized 
 by official ruffians, imprisoned, their estates taken 
 from them, or saved only by enormous fines ; and all 
 without warrant, indictment, trial, or conviction. At 
 first, as we have seen, the Governor proceeded by 
 martial law. He then attempted, for a little while, 
 " to let the laws run in their old channel," — to pro- 
 cure convictions by juries. But finding this course 
 result in successive and summary acquittals, — u even 
 often in a day," says Burk, "by different panels,"* — 
 
 * Bancroft (11.231, note 4) calls this statement "a very ridiculous 
 error," — "pure fiction"; and cites Burk, II. 255, 263, in which hitter 
 passage the convictions by jury are stated not to have occurred before 
 the country was reduced, and after the arrival of troops from Eng- 
 
464 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 he had recourse again to martial proceedings. Now, 
 " none escaped being found guilty, condemned, and 
 hanged, that put themselves on trial " ; and so it soon 
 came to pass, that this question was always proposed 
 to the person arraigned, — " Will you be tried, or will 
 you be fined at the discretion of the court ? " The 
 unfortunate man, recurring to the uniform fate of his 
 predecessors, and perceiving that there was no hope 
 through a trial, would discreetly choose to be fined ; 
 thus buying his life by sacrificing his estate. And 
 this was done " without any jury." 
 
 Fourteen or fifteen had been executed; enormous 
 fines and confiscations had been arbitrarily multi- 
 plied ; and the jails were filled with prisoners. Such 
 was the course of vengeance when commissioners 
 and an armed force — to investigate affairs and con- 
 trol the country — arrived from England, on the 29th 
 of January. They brought with them a royal act of 
 grace and forgiveness for all but Bacon. This, to- 
 gether with their own commission and instructions, 
 they immediately delivered, urging Sir William to 
 publish forthwith the king's proclamation of grace, 
 that the distracted people might be quieted. 
 
 " I will publish my own," was his reply, " in which 
 I will make such exceptions to forgiveness as I may 
 think proper " ; and he stifled the decree of mercy in 
 his own pocket. 
 
 land. But what is meant by the language of the commissioners, in Burk, 
 II. 254 1 " He " — Berkeley — " doubted whether a legal jury would have 
 found them guilty. The contrary" — i. e. that a legal jury would not 
 have found them guilty — "he was afterwards sufficiently convinced of, 
 when he saw, upon the trials had of his Majesty's commission of oyer 
 and terminer, that there was not a prisoner that came to the bar that was 
 brought in guilty bj the jury." 
 
REVENGE. 465 
 
 The work of mock trials went on ; the judges, 
 without the smallest regard for decorum, and even in 
 the presence of the royal commissioners, and " as if 
 they had been the worst of witnesses," indecently re- 
 viling their prisoners, " both accusing and condemn- 
 ing at the same time." Hanging was yet in vogue, 
 notwithstanding the royal decree of grace. Bland, 
 who had been choicely reserved in chains ever since 
 he was entrapped at Accomac, was at last brought 
 up for judgment. He pleaded that Sir William 
 Berkeley had at that moment his pardon, with the 
 royal signature, in his pocket ; and he had, — a spe- 
 cial pardon procured by Bland's friends in England. 
 But he was found guilty, and hung. " It was talked " 
 that this was done on private instructions from the 
 Duke of York, afterwards James the Second, who 
 had sworn, " by God, Bacon and Bland should die." 
 Other executions also took place, until the whole 
 number had amounted to twenty-three, — " said in all 
 to outnumber those slane in the wholl war, on both 
 sides," — when the Assembly, who had met by Berke- 
 ley's appointment on the 20th of January, petitioned 
 the Governor that he would desist, and " spill no more 
 bloud" ; " for none could tell where or when it would 
 terminate." 
 
 " I believe," afterwards said Pressley, one of the 
 Burgesses from Northampton County, — "I believe 
 he would have hanged half the country, if they had 
 let him alone." 
 
 By this means, the Governor was at last " prevailed 
 on to hold his hands " from further sanguinary pro- 
 ceedings. 
 
 The commissioners proceeded, according to their 
 
466 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 instructions, to hear and determine grievances. They 
 received complaints only on testimony of credible, 
 loyal, sober persons, moderate, disinterested men, 
 whom they enjoined to testify " in such sort as 
 might become dutiful subjects, and sober, rational 
 men " ; and yet, " even with this caution, the num- 
 ber, variety, and enormity of those charges which 
 were supported astonished them, and they were at 
 a loss to reconcile this assemblage of odious vices 
 with the received reputation of Sir William Berke- 
 ley." They demanded the restoration of those estates 
 which had been unlawfully confiscated without trial 
 or conviction, and which were held by Sir William 
 and his parasites. He refused ; upon which they had 
 the estates appraised under oath, — as also all goods, 
 cattle, slaves, and servants so seized, — and exacted 
 bonds from the holders to abide the decision of the 
 King. 
 
 They also effected a treaty of peace — thanks to 
 the military operations of Bacon ! — with the neigh- 
 boring Indians, so satisfactory to them, that other re- 
 mote tribes sought also to become included in it. 
 
 Lawrence's fate was never known. Finding the 
 struggle of the people with the Governor abruptly 
 terminated, and himself a hopeless outlaw, he pre- 
 ferred to brave any fate rather than that of a public 
 execution. Compared with the settlements of Vir- 
 ginia, the wilderness might be a better home for him ; 
 and the wild men of the woods might be better friends 
 than Christians. Compared with death by Sir Wil- 
 liam's hangman, death by hunger, or weariness, or 
 exposure, or even Indian torture, were preferable. 
 He chose a voluntary exile. He was seen upon the 
 
REVENGE. 467 
 
 extreme border with four companions, all well armed 
 and well mounted, making their way through the 
 snows for the mountain forests. It was the last 
 which was seen or heard of this accomplished and 
 high-minded man. 
 
 Sir William Berkeley, leaving the government of 
 Virginia in the hands of Colonel Herbert Jeffries, who 
 had been commissioned by the King, sailed for Eng- 
 land late in the month of April. Upon his arrival, he 
 found that the odor of his cruelties had preceded him. 
 The commissioners had reported in reprobation of 
 his conduct, and it was regarded with horror both 
 by the King and his Council. " The old fool," said 
 Charles the Second, indignantly, " has hanged more 
 men in that naked country than I have for the mur- 
 der of my father." Under such reprobation, — ap- 
 proved doubtless by the voice of his own conscience, 
 — the hoary executioner of men who had only de- 
 fended their firesides and resented oppression, gave 
 way ; and in July of the same year he sunk into a 
 dishonored grave. 
 
 So disappeared the actors in this brief but memora- 
 ble drama. 
 
 In what were the people bettered ? They had over- 
 awed the savages, but their own choice men were gone. 
 Their persecutor was gone also, but his power to tyran- 
 nize was transferred unabated to others. The amelio- 
 rating laws of the patriot Assembly — "Bacon's laws" 
 they were called — were repealed. But the liberal 
 Charter for which agents had been sent to England 
 in 1675, — what of that? This Charter, providing for 
 the liquidation of the claims of Arlington and Cul- 
 pepper, barring like grants in future, confirming the 
 
468 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 land-titles of resident planters, recognizing the Grand 
 Assembly of Virginia, investing that body with the 
 power of making laws and determining all imposition 
 of taxes, save upon exports,. — this Charter* drafted in 
 outline, and presented by the Lords of the Committee 
 for Foreign Plantations to his Majesty's Council, 
 " passed by his Majesty and a full board " of the 
 Council to be prepared in form of a bill for his Maj- 
 esty's signature, was detained in the office of the 
 Seals by secret jealousy and intrigue, until the news 
 of the colonial disturbance put it to rest for ever. In 
 its stead, the King issued troops and a paltry patent, 
 which related chiefly to the judicial powers of the 
 Colonial Council and the security of land-titles, but 
 making no recognition of the Assembly. By sepa- 
 rate instructions, that body was indeed permitted, 
 during the royal pleasure ; but it was to be called 
 only once in two years, and then was to continue in 
 session only fourteen days. The right of electing 
 Burgesses was taken from all but freeholders. 
 
 The aristocracy of Virginia was reinstated on the 
 backs of the people. The punishments which had 
 been inflicted by Berkeley were terrors not soon to 
 be forgotten ; and they effectually stifled all murmurs 
 against the return of old, and now aggravated, griev- 
 ances. Unequal and burdensome taxes were revived ; 
 they were fearfully increased by the expenses of the 
 insurrection ; they were collected by men whose vo- 
 cation it was to extort, and whose emolument it was 
 to defraud. They were so laid — by poll — that the 
 poor man, paying as much as the rich man, was 
 crushed under a burden which he could not lessen, 
 because he could not vote. Once more Virginia was 
 
REVENGE. 469 
 
 under the heel of pitiless power, — of power responsi- 
 ble only to a distant monarch, who lolled in the laps 
 of courtesans, and flung thoughtlessly to titled beg- 
 gars the rights and properties of thousands, for a new 
 beauty or a purse of gold. 
 
 How, then, was Virginia bettered by her struggle 
 against oppression ? To overawe her spirits, an 
 armed force had been imposed upon her soil and 
 billeted upon her citizens, and was not disbanded 
 until 1682. The Navigation Act, enforced by a frig- 
 ate cruiser in their waters, still kept the people poor ; 
 the doubling of the Governor's salary, upon the ac- 
 cesion of Culpepper in 1680, besides his bonus for 
 house-rent and his perquisites, made them poorer ; his 
 unblushing rapacity and inventive extortion made 
 them poorer still, until tobacco fell to a penny a 
 pound, the people lacked the common necessaries of 
 life, and it was thought necessary, in 1682, to curb 
 their starving restlessness by new executions on the 
 gallows. The grants to Arlington and Culpepper 
 were not annulled until 1684, when Virginia again 
 became a province of the Crown. Still the system 
 of exaction and oppression went on, and was unmiti- 
 gated. Colonial office was sought by profligate cour- 
 tiers, only for the sake of making money ; and the 
 British nobleman, too proud and too lazy for honest 
 trade, could stoop to wring from his storehouse the 
 hard earnings of the planter, to defraud the hireling 
 soldier of his wages, to extort exorbitant and even 
 arbitrary fees, and to haggle with his own clerks for 
 a share in their perquisites of office. Not Culpepper 
 only, but his successor, Effingham, and his successors, 
 were taskmasters and pickpockets to the planter, 
 
 40 
 
470 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 while the Crown made him a tributary to the trades- 
 man and artificer of London. What did God give 
 England colonies for ? To enrich her merchants and 
 her nobles, to be sure ! The profit of England was 
 — the colonist's chief end. He was made for it. He 
 could conduce to it. He must work for it. Such, 
 from the beginning, were the axioms of the mother 
 country, and they were maintained for a century 
 longer, until Virginia, with her sister colonies, had 
 disbursed her wealth, and poured out her blood like 
 water, in loyalty to the Crown ; until, impoverished 
 and depleted as she was, she drew the sword upon 
 tyranny, and flung the scabbard away. 
 
 And the struggle of Bacon and his peers was boot- 
 less ? Not so. The leaven which they had infused 
 remained. It was hidden, but it wrought. The 
 tyranny which sought to suppress, only diffused it. 
 Even the aristocratic class became afTected, and the 
 royalist Burgesses kicked against the goads, even be- 
 fore Bacon had lain in his unknown grave a year ; 
 and again in 1681 ; and yet again in 1685, so vigor- 
 ously, that James the Second told them to stop " their 
 unnecessary debates, their unquiet dispositions, and 
 their tumultuous proceedings " ; and even alarm- 
 ingly did they repeat their behavior in 1688. The 
 chains not only cut deep into the flesh of the poor, 
 but began to chafe the rich ; and they who could 
 savor their banquet with the oil and olives of the 
 Mediterranean, the sugar and the coffee of San Do- 
 mingo, and the choice wines of Southern Europe, 
 grumbled at the convivial board about the overbear- 
 ing encroachments of the Crown. Bacon's move- 
 ment had indeed taught Virginia a lesson of ven- 
 
REVENGE. 471 
 
 geance which she long remembered with horror ; but 
 it had also given her a relish and a passion for civil 
 freedom which she never lost. If we estimate the 
 events of 1676 only by their immediate results, we 
 err. Their influence did not perish in a day. Every 
 now and then its hidden presence and strength were 
 shown by the bubbling upon the waters, all along the 
 lapse of years while the Stuarts were passing away, 
 and the childless Prince of Orange, and the parri- 
 cide Anne, and the first and second Georges. The 
 generation taught, for so short a time only, by the 
 youthful patriot to resent and to resist oppression, 
 transmitted their temper with their blood. Not that 
 Virginia had not before been jealous of arbitrary rule. 
 She had long been, and it has been our pleasure to 
 record it. But not until 1676 had she risen up. The 
 babe first balancing upon its feet may fall, and its 
 mishap may make it timid ; but it never forgets its 
 discovered power : it yearns for its exercise, until it 
 can run alone. 
 
 An intelligent review of the early history of Vir- 
 ginia cannot be made without enthusiastic admira- 
 tion. It may be questioned whether that meed of 
 honor has yet been rendered to her which is her due. 
 The profligacy and worthlessness of her pioneer set- 
 tlers, with the exception of a few rare and devoted 
 men, — Smith, and Hunt, and Gosnold, and Percy, — 
 are seldom equalled, never surpassed. But their de- 
 pravity was their bane. They were but the menial 
 scouts, not the fathers, of the new commonwealth ; 
 and when they had done their drudgery, they died. 
 Hardier and better men entered into 1 heir labors, — 
 
472 THE YOUTH OF THE OLD DOMINION. 
 
 men who loved the broad wilderness and virgin Na- 
 ture, not for licentiousness' sake, but for that sense of 
 manhood and healthful freedom which they give ; 
 who breathed an untainted air with delight, yet 
 deferred to civil rule as salutary. The alphabet of 
 self-government was, indeed, sent to Virginia by her 
 fosterers in England, who might not use it there 
 themselves. The New World had given her a new 
 instinct ; and she learned so rapidly to read and write, 
 that she outstripped her patrons, and first framed a 
 Bill of Rights. That which the British Parliament 
 extorted from Charles the First, which historians have 
 venerated and lauded as the original charter of con- 
 stitutional liberty, was but the successor and the tran- 
 script of Virginia's in 1624. Nor was this the only 
 memorable instance in which the aged mother was 
 fain to learn wisdom from the despised and youthful 
 daughter. In 1688, when England was at her wit's 
 end to reconcile her fundamental doctrine of heredi- 
 tary succession with her craving for a new dynasty ; 
 when she had scared James the Second to France ; 
 w T hen she was at the crisis of her glorious Revolu- 
 tion, — glorious in its results, though infamous in its 
 prosecution, — she piously compromised with her con- 
 science, her will, and her constitution, and cunningly 
 cut the knot which she could not untie, by declaring 
 that her legitimate monarch was not, while he was 
 yet alive and claimed allegiance, — that her realm 
 was kingless, — that flight ivas abdication. Whether 
 absurd or rational, whether a truth or a lie, was not 
 essential. It was gravely adopted by the Conven- 
 tion of 1688-9 ; for it suited their purpose, it resolved 
 their perplexity. Were they sages above all others ? 
 
REVENGE. 473 
 
 Although it was a figment, a trick upon common 
 sense, it was an admirable expedient for a worthy 
 end. But they did not originate it. Virginia did. 
 Twelve years before, she had done it. When Berke- 
 ley had been scared to Accomac, she had declared 
 u that flight was abdication." England availed her- 
 self of so shrewd a precedent, — for James in France 
 was like Berkeley in Accomac, — and demurely 
 avowed a notion for which she had chastised her 
 daughter. Would she, of herself, have divined so 
 odd a doctrine ? " Honor to whom honor." 
 
 But Virginia was not only the first to propound to 
 England a Petition of Right, and the first to show 
 her how she might make a Revolution. She was the 
 first to tell her bluntly, that tyranny would not do for 
 Anglo-Saxons in America ; the first to draw the 
 sword of Liberty, and the first to furnish martyrs. 
 The elder sister of the Colonies, she had sustained 
 the dignity of her birthright. It was meet, therefore, 
 that by her it should first be "proposed" that the 
 Congress of the Colonies should declare their inde- 
 pendence. It was meet that by a son of her's that 
 Declaration should be drawn ; that from her should 
 arise the Father of the Country, the first chief magis- 
 trate of the new republic. And it was also meet, 
 that on her soil, where revolution was first attempted, 
 the grand drama of triumphant Revolution should be 
 closed ; that where the first blow had been struck for 
 Freedom, there, a century after, should be struck the 
 last; that, on the very spot where Drummond was 
 martyred on the gallows, Cornwallis should surrender 
 to Washington. So God orders. 
 
 THE END, 
 
►*D