OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. On the 15th June, Newport with the vessels sailed for England, leaving the settlers in the midst of that vast wilderness which they had undertaken to cultivate. In this situation the brilliant hopes which had lured them thither quickly vanished. The fruitfulness of the soil indeed fully equalled expectation; but all the machinery by which it could be made capable of producing individual wealth The land required not only a laborious culture, for was still to be created. which they were little prepared; but a still harder task remained, that of hewing down the forest which covered the whole of it. By an unhappy arrangement, all the produce for the first five years was to be in common, and distributed by the council according to their respective wants. But, as Chalmers shrewdly observes, "when men are not to profit, they will labor little; and when all are fed from a common granary, few will concern themselves how it is filled." Raising scarcely any crop the first year, they were dependant on the supplies from home, which had been much diminished during the long voyage, and are alleged to have been originally of inferior quality. A slender allowance of this unwholesome food, bad river-water, and exposure to a new climate, soon spread disease so widely, that there were often not ten men fit for service. "There were never," says Percy, "Englishmen left in a foreign country in Before autumn, fifty died, nearly half their number, such misery as we were." among whom was Gosnold, the projector of the settlement. Discontent naturally arose; Wingfield, the president, was accused of living in plenty while others were perishing, and even of meditating a departure. On these charges he was deposed, and his place supplied by Ratcliffe, who, being of an easy temper, left the whole management to Smith, which was what the colonists desired. The natives treated This gentleman justly considered sustenance the most important object, in search of which he proceeded with a party down the river. them with derision, "as famished men, and holding out morsels of bread, asked FIG. 23.-Indian Warrio". for them swords, muskets, and other valuables." Unable to succeed by fair means, he discharged a volley, which caused them immediately to seek the Landing at a village, he found food in abundance; but shelter of the woods. forbade his people to encumber themselves with it, foreseeing the immediate return of the Indians. Accordingly there soon issued forth, amid hideous noises, sixty or seventy painted savages, bearing in front their okee, an image of skins stuffed with moss, and hung with copper chains. They advanced upon the English, but met so kindly a reception, that " down fell their god," divers of his worshippers lay sprawling, and the rest disappeared. Their spirit being now humbled, they sent presently a venerable character, a quiyoughcasuck, to treat for peace, and for the restoration of their idol. Smith answered, that if they would load his boat, they should be welcome not only to their okee, but to a stock of beads, hatchets, and other valuables. They cheerfully assented, and amidst singing and dancing brought not only the stipulated grain, but presents of turkey, venison, and wild fowl. Smith returned just in time to prevent Wingfield and another from seizing a vessel and sailing to England. His supplies, with the flocks of water-fowl which came at the approach of winter, relieved their wants; and having in his rambles discovered the great river Chickahominy, he determined to explore it to its source, not, it is said, without a hope of thereby reaching the South sea, viewed then as the grand source of wealth. He was impelled, it was imagined, by the taunts of some of his enemies in the colony, but we rather think only by his own adventurous spirit. He ascended first in his barge, then in a canoe, and twenty miles on foot attended only by his Indian guides. But three hundred natives, who had traced his steps, surprised and dispersed his party, and then came suddenly upon himself. He made astonishing efforts for safety, and fastening with his garters a native ally to his person, presented him to the enemy as a buckler; then he ran to the canoe, which he would have reached, had he not suddenly sunk in a deep morass, where he was overtaken, and, to escape from perishing with cold, obliged to surrender. He had now reason to consider his last hour approaching, and a circle had in fact been formed to shoot him. With characteristic presence of mind he asked for the chief, showed his compass-dial, pointed out its singular movements, and endeavored to explain the corresponding phenomena of the earth and sky. Whether they understood these indications or not, they were awed with aston ishment as if admitted to contemplate a supernatural object. On a signal from their leader, they laid down their bows and arrows, and led him under strict guard to their capital. He was there exhibited to the women and children; and a wild war-dance was performed round him, in fantastic measures, and with frightful yells and contortions. He was then shut up in a long house, and supplied at every meal with as much bread and venison as would have dined twenty men; but, receiving no other sign of kindness, he began to dread that they were fattening in order to eat him. Even without such a precise purpose, this festive entertainment is known among savages to be no uncommon prelude to torture and death. They asked his aid in reducing Jamestown, while he sought an opportunity of making his way thither. In the course of this manoeuvring, a message sent to that place gave him an opportunity to display the powers of writing, which was considered by them as a species of magical spell. At length, after being paraded and exhibited in various villages, he was led to Pamunkey, the residence of Powhatan. It was here his doom was sealed. The chief received him in pomp, wrapt in a spacious robe of rackoon skins, with all the tails hanging down. Behind appeared two long lines of men and women, with faces painted red, heads decked with white down, and necks quite encircled by chains of beads. A lady of rank presented water to wash his hands, another a bunch of feathers to dry them. A long deliberation was then held, and the result proved fatal. Two large stones were placed before Powhatan, and by the united efforts of the attendants Smith was dragged to the spot, his head laid on one of them, and the mighty club was raised, a few blows of which were to terminate his life. In this last extremity, when every hope seemed past, a very unexpected interposition took place. Pocahontas, the youthful and favorite daughter of this savage chief, was seized with those tender emotions which form the ornament of her sex. Advancing to her father, she in the most earnest terms supplicated mercy for the stranger: and though all her entreaties were lost on that savage heart, her zeal only redoubled. She ran to Smith, took his head in her arms, laid her own upon it, and declared that the first death-blow must fall upon her. The barbarian's breast was at length softened, and the life of the Englishman was spared. Our adventurer, being naturally expected to render some services in return for so great a boon, employed himself in making hatchets, beads, and other ornaments for the father and daughter. At the end of two days he was conducted into a large house, where, amid hideous and doleful noises, Powhatan rushed in, with two hundred attendants, strangely disguised and their faces blackened. |