The morning-star is in the sky—The signal word is given,And a hundred blazing torches flashIn the starry vault of heaven;And from a hundred blazing homesRings out a piercing cry,As the sleeper wakes, and the flames of deathGlare on his waking eye.But a wilder scream, a fiendish yell,Comes back to his ear again,As he rushes out, and a savage blowHas crush’d him to the plain.When morning came, the sun look’d downWhere many a cottage stood;But he only saw black smouldering heaps,And fields that smoked with blood.{28}In all the outer settlementsThe work of death was o’er,And full three hundred colonistsLay weltering in their gore.
The morning-star is in the sky—The signal word is given,And a hundred blazing torches flashIn the starry vault of heaven;And from a hundred blazing homesRings out a piercing cry,As the sleeper wakes, and the flames of deathGlare on his waking eye.But a wilder scream, a fiendish yell,Comes back to his ear again,As he rushes out, and a savage blowHas crush’d him to the plain.When morning came, the sun look’d downWhere many a cottage stood;But he only saw black smouldering heaps,And fields that smoked with blood.{28}In all the outer settlementsThe work of death was o’er,And full three hundred colonistsLay weltering in their gore.
The morning-star is in the sky—The signal word is given,And a hundred blazing torches flashIn the starry vault of heaven;And from a hundred blazing homesRings out a piercing cry,As the sleeper wakes, and the flames of deathGlare on his waking eye.But a wilder scream, a fiendish yell,Comes back to his ear again,As he rushes out, and a savage blowHas crush’d him to the plain.When morning came, the sun look’d downWhere many a cottage stood;But he only saw black smouldering heaps,And fields that smoked with blood.{28}In all the outer settlementsThe work of death was o’er,And full three hundred colonistsLay weltering in their gore.
But Jamestown show’d another sightTo that bright morning sun—Three hundred hostile men stood there,All arm’d with sword and gun,And breathing out a stern resolveTo hunt the savage race,With fire and sword and ceaseless war,Till not a single traceOf all the tribes of PowhatanShould in the land be seen,To cry for blood, or tell the worldThat such a race had been.How these were saved from blood and deathOn that red night of wo,The Indian never knew, and nowIt matters not to know.Enough, that timely warning cameFor them to up and arm;That when the gleam of the Indian torchFlash’d out its first alarm,A dozen muskets blazed at once,And torch and bearer fell,And the foe fled swift when he heard the roarThrough the echoing forest swell.
But Jamestown show’d another sightTo that bright morning sun—Three hundred hostile men stood there,All arm’d with sword and gun,And breathing out a stern resolveTo hunt the savage race,With fire and sword and ceaseless war,Till not a single traceOf all the tribes of PowhatanShould in the land be seen,To cry for blood, or tell the worldThat such a race had been.How these were saved from blood and deathOn that red night of wo,The Indian never knew, and nowIt matters not to know.Enough, that timely warning cameFor them to up and arm;That when the gleam of the Indian torchFlash’d out its first alarm,A dozen muskets blazed at once,And torch and bearer fell,And the foe fled swift when he heard the roarThrough the echoing forest swell.
But Jamestown show’d another sightTo that bright morning sun—Three hundred hostile men stood there,All arm’d with sword and gun,And breathing out a stern resolveTo hunt the savage race,With fire and sword and ceaseless war,Till not a single traceOf all the tribes of PowhatanShould in the land be seen,To cry for blood, or tell the worldThat such a race had been.How these were saved from blood and deathOn that red night of wo,The Indian never knew, and nowIt matters not to know.Enough, that timely warning cameFor them to up and arm;That when the gleam of the Indian torchFlash’d out its first alarm,A dozen muskets blazed at once,And torch and bearer fell,And the foe fled swift when he heard the roarThrough the echoing forest swell.
Henceforth the course of war is changed—In one devoted bandThe desperate colonists march forthIn arms to scour the land;And the flying savage, looking backFrom the hill-top, often seesThe flames of his burning lodge dart upAbove the forest trees.The blood of old and young alikeIs pour’d upon the plains,And through the realm of PowhatanWide desolation reigns.Like hunted deer through grove and glenThe bleeding victims die,And villages by the river banksIn smoking ruins lie.At last the broken, flying tribesIn many a rallying band,Meet round the home of PowhatanFor one more desperate stand.And here an oath each warrior swears,To fall—if he must fall—With face to the foe, and hand to his bow,And his back to the council-hall.
Henceforth the course of war is changed—In one devoted bandThe desperate colonists march forthIn arms to scour the land;And the flying savage, looking backFrom the hill-top, often seesThe flames of his burning lodge dart upAbove the forest trees.The blood of old and young alikeIs pour’d upon the plains,And through the realm of PowhatanWide desolation reigns.Like hunted deer through grove and glenThe bleeding victims die,And villages by the river banksIn smoking ruins lie.At last the broken, flying tribesIn many a rallying band,Meet round the home of PowhatanFor one more desperate stand.And here an oath each warrior swears,To fall—if he must fall—With face to the foe, and hand to his bow,And his back to the council-hall.
Henceforth the course of war is changed—In one devoted bandThe desperate colonists march forthIn arms to scour the land;And the flying savage, looking backFrom the hill-top, often seesThe flames of his burning lodge dart upAbove the forest trees.The blood of old and young alikeIs pour’d upon the plains,And through the realm of PowhatanWide desolation reigns.Like hunted deer through grove and glenThe bleeding victims die,And villages by the river banksIn smoking ruins lie.At last the broken, flying tribesIn many a rallying band,Meet round the home of PowhatanFor one more desperate stand.And here an oath each warrior swears,To fall—if he must fall—With face to the foe, and hand to his bow,And his back to the council-hall.
The fearful battle soon grows warmBetween the opposing foes—Three hundred muskets in the fieldAgainst three thousand bows.And thickly flew with deadly aimThe Indian arrows then;But where one man by an arrow fell,The musket slaughter’d ten.Pamunky, wounded, leaves the field,Stout Nantaquas is slain,And many a brave and valiant chiefLies stretch’d upon the plain;But still the battle fiercer growsTill near the close of day,And neither side the victory gains,And neither side gives way.And now with sword and bayonet,Their ammunition gone,With firmness toward the faltering foeThe colonists press on,And hand to hand, and foot to foot,Their deadly weapons ply—The white man takes the ground at last,The Indians fall or fly.
The fearful battle soon grows warmBetween the opposing foes—Three hundred muskets in the fieldAgainst three thousand bows.And thickly flew with deadly aimThe Indian arrows then;But where one man by an arrow fell,The musket slaughter’d ten.Pamunky, wounded, leaves the field,Stout Nantaquas is slain,And many a brave and valiant chiefLies stretch’d upon the plain;But still the battle fiercer growsTill near the close of day,And neither side the victory gains,And neither side gives way.And now with sword and bayonet,Their ammunition gone,With firmness toward the faltering foeThe colonists press on,And hand to hand, and foot to foot,Their deadly weapons ply—The white man takes the ground at last,The Indians fall or fly.
The fearful battle soon grows warmBetween the opposing foes—Three hundred muskets in the fieldAgainst three thousand bows.And thickly flew with deadly aimThe Indian arrows then;But where one man by an arrow fell,The musket slaughter’d ten.Pamunky, wounded, leaves the field,Stout Nantaquas is slain,And many a brave and valiant chiefLies stretch’d upon the plain;But still the battle fiercer growsTill near the close of day,And neither side the victory gains,And neither side gives way.And now with sword and bayonet,Their ammunition gone,With firmness toward the faltering foeThe colonists press on,And hand to hand, and foot to foot,Their deadly weapons ply—The white man takes the ground at last,The Indians fall or fly.
That instant, bounding from the wood,A furious warrior came;His weapon was a huge war-club,His eye a living flame—And as he rush’d to the battle-fieldHe shouted with his might—The old woods leapt at the well-known sound,As if they felt delight.He paused a moment to surveyThe dying and the dead:His fallen warriors strew’d the ground;The living few had fled;And now before the conquering foeThere stood but a single man—But fierce the conflict yet must rage,For he was Powhatan.The monarch’s back to mortal foeHad never yet been given,And, come what will, he meets it nowIn the face of earth and heaven.Swinging his knotted war-club high,To the thickest ranks he press’d,Where fifty swords and bayonetsWere pointed to his breast,And up and down, this way and that,His ponderous weapon threw,And broken muskets strew’d the ground,And swords like feathers flew.In vain the rallying forces cameTo aid the falling band;Numbers, nor arms, nor courage couldThe monarch’s rage withstand.At last, pale-faces in their turnTo the sheltering forest fly,Nor longer hold the king at bay,For, they that linger, die.
That instant, bounding from the wood,A furious warrior came;His weapon was a huge war-club,His eye a living flame—And as he rush’d to the battle-fieldHe shouted with his might—The old woods leapt at the well-known sound,As if they felt delight.He paused a moment to surveyThe dying and the dead:His fallen warriors strew’d the ground;The living few had fled;And now before the conquering foeThere stood but a single man—But fierce the conflict yet must rage,For he was Powhatan.The monarch’s back to mortal foeHad never yet been given,And, come what will, he meets it nowIn the face of earth and heaven.Swinging his knotted war-club high,To the thickest ranks he press’d,Where fifty swords and bayonetsWere pointed to his breast,And up and down, this way and that,His ponderous weapon threw,And broken muskets strew’d the ground,And swords like feathers flew.In vain the rallying forces cameTo aid the falling band;Numbers, nor arms, nor courage couldThe monarch’s rage withstand.At last, pale-faces in their turnTo the sheltering forest fly,Nor longer hold the king at bay,For, they that linger, die.
That instant, bounding from the wood,A furious warrior came;His weapon was a huge war-club,His eye a living flame—And as he rush’d to the battle-fieldHe shouted with his might—The old woods leapt at the well-known sound,As if they felt delight.He paused a moment to surveyThe dying and the dead:His fallen warriors strew’d the ground;The living few had fled;And now before the conquering foeThere stood but a single man—But fierce the conflict yet must rage,For he was Powhatan.The monarch’s back to mortal foeHad never yet been given,And, come what will, he meets it nowIn the face of earth and heaven.Swinging his knotted war-club high,To the thickest ranks he press’d,Where fifty swords and bayonetsWere pointed to his breast,And up and down, this way and that,His ponderous weapon threw,And broken muskets strew’d the ground,And swords like feathers flew.In vain the rallying forces cameTo aid the falling band;Numbers, nor arms, nor courage couldThe monarch’s rage withstand.At last, pale-faces in their turnTo the sheltering forest fly,Nor longer hold the king at bay,For, they that linger, die.
The aged monarch stood alone,By his council-hall again;The unbending monarch, unsubdued,King of his bloody plain.But what was that red plain to him?His groves? his country? all?In his lodge there were no loved ones now,No voice in his council-hall.The old man’s heart was desolate—His warriors all were dead;He knew the pale-face tree had root,And far and wide would spread.And sadly toward the western skyHe turn’d his weary eyes,Where mountains blue are dimly seen,And the land of spirits lies;And he thought, could he lay his aged bonesIn that peaceful land to rest,Where the pale-face foe could never come,The red man to molest;Where his gather’d tribes might hunt the deerThrough the forest wilds again,And plant their corn in peace once moreUpon the sunny plain;And where by the shadowy mountain’s brow;He in his quiet cotHis wife and children might behold,’Twould be a blessed lot;And casting one long, painful lookOn his lost land and home,Ere through the western wilds afarA pilgrim he should roam,He took his war-club for a staff,And his footsteps westward turn’d,And sought for rest in the far-off land,Where the ruddy sunset burn’d.
The aged monarch stood alone,By his council-hall again;The unbending monarch, unsubdued,King of his bloody plain.But what was that red plain to him?His groves? his country? all?In his lodge there were no loved ones now,No voice in his council-hall.The old man’s heart was desolate—His warriors all were dead;He knew the pale-face tree had root,And far and wide would spread.And sadly toward the western skyHe turn’d his weary eyes,Where mountains blue are dimly seen,And the land of spirits lies;And he thought, could he lay his aged bonesIn that peaceful land to rest,Where the pale-face foe could never come,The red man to molest;Where his gather’d tribes might hunt the deerThrough the forest wilds again,And plant their corn in peace once moreUpon the sunny plain;And where by the shadowy mountain’s brow;He in his quiet cotHis wife and children might behold,’Twould be a blessed lot;And casting one long, painful lookOn his lost land and home,Ere through the western wilds afarA pilgrim he should roam,He took his war-club for a staff,And his footsteps westward turn’d,And sought for rest in the far-off land,Where the ruddy sunset burn’d.
The aged monarch stood alone,By his council-hall again;The unbending monarch, unsubdued,King of his bloody plain.But what was that red plain to him?His groves? his country? all?In his lodge there were no loved ones now,No voice in his council-hall.The old man’s heart was desolate—His warriors all were dead;He knew the pale-face tree had root,And far and wide would spread.And sadly toward the western skyHe turn’d his weary eyes,Where mountains blue are dimly seen,And the land of spirits lies;And he thought, could he lay his aged bonesIn that peaceful land to rest,Where the pale-face foe could never come,The red man to molest;Where his gather’d tribes might hunt the deerThrough the forest wilds again,And plant their corn in peace once moreUpon the sunny plain;And where by the shadowy mountain’s brow;He in his quiet cotHis wife and children might behold,’Twould be a blessed lot;And casting one long, painful lookOn his lost land and home,Ere through the western wilds afarA pilgrim he should roam,He took his war-club for a staff,And his footsteps westward turn’d,And sought for rest in the far-off land,Where the ruddy sunset burn’d.
END OF THE LAST CANTO.
Far in their mountain lurking-placeThe Manakins had heard his fame,And Manahocks dared not come downHis valleys to pursue their game.
Far in their mountain lurking-placeThe Manakins had heard his fame,And Manahocks dared not come downHis valleys to pursue their game.
Far in their mountain lurking-placeThe Manakins had heard his fame,And Manahocks dared not come downHis valleys to pursue their game.
The Manakins and Manahocs, or Manahoacs, dwelt in the hilly country above the falls of the great rivers which empty into Chesapeake Bay; while the dominion of Powhatan extended over the whole of the flat country below the falls. The Manakins dwelt on the head waters of the James River, and the Manahocs on the head waters of the Potomac and Rappahannock. They were subdivided into several nations or tribes, and formed a sort of league or confederacy of the upland and mountain Indians against the power and tyranny of Powhatan. The Manakins consisted of four or five tribes, and the Manahocs of eight, and the whole, being combined in firm league against the empire of Powhatan, must have constituted rather a formidable foe.]
And Susquehannah’s giant race.
And Susquehannah’s giant race.
And Susquehannah’s giant race.
This powerful tribe, dwelling along the valley of the Susquehannah, bearing the name of that noble stream, and commanding its waters even to the head of Chesapeake Bay, is represented by the early adventurers in Virginia to have been a race of gigantic stature. The romantic spirit of Captain Smith, delighting as he did in the marvellous, probably may have given some coloring to his descriptions in matters of mere opinion, but where he describes facts that came within his knowledge, his truth and candor may always be relied upon. He says, “Such great and well-proportioned men are seldom seen; for they seemed like giants to the English, yea, and to the neighbors, yet seemed of an honest and simple disposition, with much ado restrained from adoring us as gods.”
The following curious account of this tribe is from the grave and matter-of-fact historian Stith; borrowed however principally from Smith.
“Their language and attire were very suitable to their stature and appearance. For their language sounded deep and solemn, and hollow, like a voice in a vault. Their attire was the skins of bears and wolves, so cut that the man’s head went through the neck, and the ears of the bear were fastened on his shoulders, while the nose and teeth hung dangling down upon his breast. Behind, was another bear’s face split, with a paw hanging at the nose. And their sleeves coming down to their elbows, were the necksof bears, with their arms going through the mouth, and paws hanging to the nose. One had the head of a wolf, hanging to a chain, for a jewel; and his tobacco pipe was three-quarters of a yard long, carved with a bird, a deer, and other devices at the great end, which was sufficient to beat out a man’s brains. They measured the calf of the largest man’s leg, and found it three-quarters of a yard about, and all the rest of his limbs were in proportion; so that he seemed the stateliest and most goodly personage they had ever beheld. His arrows were three-quarters long, headed with splinters of a white crystal-like stone, in the form of a heart, an inch broad, and an inch and a half long. These he carried at his back, in a wolf’s skin for a quiver, with his bow in one hand and his club in the other.”
And thirty tribes one monarch bless’d.
And thirty tribes one monarch bless’d.
And thirty tribes one monarch bless’d.
“He had under him thirty werowances, or inferior kings, who had power of life and death, but were bound to govern according to the customs of the country.”—Stith’s Virginia.
All accounts agree that Powhatan had under his dominion thirty tribes, and some of our chronicles locate them as follows. Ten tribes between the Potomac and Rappahannock, five between the Rappahannock and York, eight between the York and James, five between the James River and the borders of Carolina, and two on the eastern shore of Chesapeake Bay.
Deep in a sea of waving woodThe monarch’s rustic lodge was seen,Where brightly roll’d the river down,And gently sloped the banks of green.
Deep in a sea of waving woodThe monarch’s rustic lodge was seen,Where brightly roll’d the river down,And gently sloped the banks of green.
Deep in a sea of waving woodThe monarch’s rustic lodge was seen,Where brightly roll’d the river down,And gently sloped the banks of green.
Powhatan’s principal place of residence at the time of the arrival of the English, was on the James River, a little below the spot where Richmond now stands. He resided, however, a part of the time at Werowocomoco, on York River, about ten or a dozen miles from Jamestown; and a part of the time at Orapakes, up the river Chickahominy.
His plume is a raven wing.
His plume is a raven wing.
His plume is a raven wing.
“Some on their heads wear the wing of a bird, or some large feather with a rattel. Those rattels are somewhat like the shape of a rapier, but lesse, which they take from the taile of a snake. Many have the whole skinne of a hawke or some strange foule, stuffed, with the wings abroad.”—Smith’s History of Virginia.
And Madoc and his host were withered from the world.
And Madoc and his host were withered from the world.
And Madoc and his host were withered from the world.
“The chronicles of Wales report, that Madoc, sonne to Owen Quineth, Prince of Wales, seeing his two brethren at debate, who should inherit, prepared certaine ships, with men and munition, and left his country to seeke adventuresby sea. Leaving Ireland north, he sayled west till he came to a land unknowne. Returning home and relating what pleasant and fruitful countries he had seene without inhabitants, and for what barren land his brethren and kindred did murther one another, he provided a number of ships, and got with him such men and women as were desirous to live in quietnesse, that arrived with him in this new land in the year 1170; left many of his people there and returned for more. But where this place was no history can show.”—Captain John Smith.
“On the death of Owen Gwyneth, king of North Wales, A. D. 1169, his children disputed the succession. Yorwerth, the elder, was set aside without a struggle, as being incapacitated by a blemish in his face. Hoel obtained possession of the throne for awhile, till he was defeated and slain by David, the eldest son of the late king by a second wife. The conqueror, who then succeeded without opposition, slew Yorwerth, imprisoned Rodri, and hunted others of his brethren into exile. But Madoc meantime abandoned his barbarous country, and sailed away to the west in search of some better resting-place. The land which he discovered pleased him. He left there part of his people, and went back to Wales for a fresh supply of adventurers, with whom he again set sail, and was heard of no more.”—Preface to Southey’s Madoc.
“Welsh Indians.—Father Reichard, of Detroit, from whom I received the facts just stated, informed me at thesame time, that in 1793 he was told at Fort Chartres, that twelve years before, Capt. Lord commanded this post, who heard some of the old people observe, that Mandan Indians visited this post, and could converse intelligibly with some Welsh soldiers in the British army. This is here given, that any person, who may have the opportunity, may ascertain whether there is any affinity between the Mandan and Welsh languages.”—Dr. Morse’s Indian Report.
Unto their pale-face leader showThe pipe of peace and warlike bow.
Unto their pale-face leader showThe pipe of peace and warlike bow.
Unto their pale-face leader showThe pipe of peace and warlike bow.
“As they proceeded up the river, another company of Indians appeared in arms. Their chief, Apamatica, holding in one hand his bow and arrows, and in the other a pipe of tobacco, demanded the cause of their coming.”—Smith’s Virginia.
As round his brawny limbs he drewHis feathery mantle, broad and blue.
As round his brawny limbs he drewHis feathery mantle, broad and blue.
As round his brawny limbs he drewHis feathery mantle, broad and blue.
“For their apparell they are sometimes covered with the skins of wild beasts, which in winter are dressed with the hayre, but in summer without. The better sort use large mantels of deer skins, not much differing in fashion from the Irish mantels. Some imbrodered with white beads, some with copper, other painted after their manner.
“We have seen some use mantels made of turkey feathers,so prettily wrought and woven with threads that nothing could be discerned but the feathers. That was exceeding warm and very handsome.”—Smith’s History of Virginia.
A stout and trusty guard was placedAround the lodge, whose hands embracedThe battle-axe or bended bow,Ready to meet a coming foe.
A stout and trusty guard was placedAround the lodge, whose hands embracedThe battle-axe or bended bow,Ready to meet a coming foe.
A stout and trusty guard was placedAround the lodge, whose hands embracedThe battle-axe or bended bow,Ready to meet a coming foe.
“About his person ordinarily attendeth a guard of forty or fifty of the tallest men his country doth afford. Every night upon the four quarters of his house are four sentinels, each from other a light shoot, and at every half hour one from thecorps du guarddoth hollow, shaking his lips with his finger betweene them; unto whom every sentinel doth answer round from his stand. If any faile, they presently send forth an officer that beateth him extremely.”—Smith’s Virginia.
Then through that long and mystic reed,Emblem of many a sacred deed,Three solemn draughts the monarch drew,And the smoke in three directions blew.
Then through that long and mystic reed,Emblem of many a sacred deed,Three solemn draughts the monarch drew,And the smoke in three directions blew.
Then through that long and mystic reed,Emblem of many a sacred deed,Three solemn draughts the monarch drew,And the smoke in three directions blew.
“When they smoke, the first puff is upward, intended for the Great Spirit, as an act of homage to him; the next is to their motherearth, whence they derive their corn andother sustenance; the third is horizontal, expressive of their good-will to their fellow men.”—Dr. Morse’s Indian Report.
The voice of Powhatan was law.
The voice of Powhatan was law.
The voice of Powhatan was law.
“He nor any of his people understand any letters whereby to write or read; only the laws whereby he ruleth is custome. Yet when he listeth, his will is a law and must be obeyed. Not only as a king, but as half a God they esteme him. His inferior kings, whom they call werowances, are tyed to rule by customes, and have power of life and death at their command in that nature.
“They all know their severall lands, and habitations, and limits, to fish, foule, or hunt in, but they hold all of their great werowance Powhatan, unto whom they pay tribute of skinnes, beads, copper, pearle, deere, turkies, wild beasts, and corne. What he commandeth they dare not disobey in the least thing. It is strange to see with what great fear and adoration all these people doe obey this Powhatan. For at his feete they present whatsoever he commandeth, and at the least frown of his brow their greatest spirits will tremble with fear: and no marvell, for he is very terrible and tyrannous in punishing such as offend him.”—Captain John Smith.
Of all the knights of England,That ever in armor shone,The boldest and the truest heartWas that of brave Sir John.He had pass’d through perils on the land,And perils on the sea,And oftentimes confronted deathIn Gaul and Germany;And many a TransylvanianCould point to the spot and showWhere the boldest of the Turkish knightsWere by his hand laid low.And when confined in dungeons,Or driven as a slave,The rescue, that his own arm brought,Proved well Sir John was brave.
Of all the knights of England,That ever in armor shone,The boldest and the truest heartWas that of brave Sir John.He had pass’d through perils on the land,And perils on the sea,And oftentimes confronted deathIn Gaul and Germany;And many a TransylvanianCould point to the spot and showWhere the boldest of the Turkish knightsWere by his hand laid low.And when confined in dungeons,Or driven as a slave,The rescue, that his own arm brought,Proved well Sir John was brave.
Of all the knights of England,That ever in armor shone,The boldest and the truest heartWas that of brave Sir John.He had pass’d through perils on the land,And perils on the sea,And oftentimes confronted deathIn Gaul and Germany;And many a TransylvanianCould point to the spot and showWhere the boldest of the Turkish knightsWere by his hand laid low.And when confined in dungeons,Or driven as a slave,The rescue, that his own arm brought,Proved well Sir John was brave.
The following brief biographical sketch of Capt. John Smith is quoted in Burk’s Virginia, as from “a late American biographer;” [probably Belknap.]
“He was born at Willoughby, in Lincolnshire [England] in the year one thousand five hundred and seventy-nine. From the first dawn of reason he discovered a roving and romantic genius, and delighted in extravagant and daring actions among his school-fellows. When about thirteen years of age, he sold his books and satchel, and his puerile trinkets, to raise money, with a view to convey himself privately to sea; but the death of his father put a stop for the present to this attempt, and threw him into the hands ofguardians, who endeavored to check the ardor of his genius, by confining him to a compting house. Being put apprentice to a merchant at Lynn, at the age of fifteen, he at first conceived hopes that his master would send him to sea in his service; but this hope failing, he quitted his master, and with only ten shillings in his pocket, entered into the train of a young nobleman who was travelling to France.
“At Orleans he was discharged from his attendance on Lord Bertie, and had money given to return to England.
“With this money he visited Paris, and proceeded to the Low Countries, where he enlisted as a soldier, and learned the rudiments of war, a science peculiarly agreeable to his ardent and active genius. Meeting with a Scots gentleman abroad, he was persuaded to pass into Scotland, with the promise of being strongly recommended to King James. But being baffled in this expectation, he returned to his native town, and finding no company there, which suited his taste, he built a booth in the wood, and betook himself to the study of military history and tactics, diverting himself at intervals with his horse and lance; in which exercises he at length found a companion, an Italian gentleman, rider to the Earl of Lincoln, who drew him from his sylvan retreat to Tattersal.
“Having recovered a part of the estate which his father had left him, he put himself into a better condition than before, and set off again on his travels, in the winter of the year one thousand five hundred and ninety-six, being then only seventeen years of age. His first stage was Flanders, where meeting with a Frenchman, who pretended to be heirto a noble family, he with his three attendants prevailed upon Smith to go with them to France. In a dark night they arrived at St. Valory, in Picardy, and by the connivance of the shipmaster, the Frenchmen were carried ashore with the trunks of our young traveller, whilst he was left on board till the return of the boat. In the mean time they had conveyed the baggage out of his reach, and were not to be found. A sailor on board, who knew the villains, generously undertook to conduct him to Mortain, where they lived, and supplied his wants till their arrival at the place. Here he found their friends, from whom he could get no recompense, but the report of his sufferings induced several persons of distinction to invite him to their houses.
“Eager to pursue his travels, and not caring to receive favors which he was unable to requite, he left his new friends, and went from port to port in search of a ship of war. In one of these rambles near Dinan, it was his chance to meet one of the villains who had robbed him. Without speaking a word, they both drew; and Smith having wounded and disarmed his antagonist, obliged him to confess his guilt before a number of persons, who had assembled on the occasion. Satisfied with his victory, he retired to the seat of an acquaintance, the Earl of Ployer, who had been brought up in England; and having received supplies from him, he travelled along the French coast to Bayonne, and from thence crossed over to Marseilles; visiting and observing every thing in his way, which had any reference to military or naval architecture.
“At Marseilles he embarked for Italy, in company with a rabble of pilgrims. The ship was forced by a tempest into the harbor of Toulon, and afterwards obliged by a contrary wind to anchor under the little island of St. Mary, off Nice, in Savoy. The bigotry of the pilgrims made them ascribe their ill-fortune to the presence of a heretic on board. They devoutly cursed Smith and his queen, Elizabeth, and in a fit of pious rage threw him into the sea. He swam to the island, and the next day was taken on board a ship of St. Malo which had also put in there for shelter. The master of the ship, who was well known to his noble friend the Earl of Ployer, entertained him kindly, and carried him to Alexandria in Egypt; from thence he coasted the Levant, and on his return had the high satisfaction of an engagement with a Venetian ship, which they took and rifled of her rich cargo.
“Smith was set on shore at Antibes, with a box of one thousand chequins, (about two thousand dollars,) by the help of which he made the tour of Italy, crossed the Adriatic, and travelled into Stiria, to the seat of Ferdinand, archduke of Austria. Here he met with an English and Irish Jesuit, who introduced him to Lord Eberspaught, Baron Kisel, and other officers of distinction; and here he found full scope for his genius; for the emperor being then at war with the Turks, he entered into his army as a volunteer.
“He communicated to Eberspaught a method of conversing at a distance by signals made with torches, which being alternately shown and hidden a certain number of times, designated every letter of the alphabet.
“He had soon after an opportunity of making the experiment. Eberspaught, being besieged by the Turks in the strong town of Olimpack, was cut off from all intelligence and hope of succor from his friends. Smith proposed his method of communication to Baron Kisel, who approved it, and allowed him to put it in practice. He was conveyed by a guard to a hill within view of the town, and sufficiently remote from the Turkish camp. At the display of the signal, Eberspaught knew and answered it; and Smith conveyed to him this intelligence: ‘Thursday night I will charge on the east; at the alarm, sally thou.’ The answer was, ‘I will.’
“Just before the attack, by Smith’s advice, a great number of false fires were made in another quarter, which divided the attention of the enemy, and gave advantage to the assailants; who being assisted by a sally from the town, killed many of the Turks, drove others into the river, and threw succors into the place, which obliged the enemy next day to raise the siege. This well-conducted exploit produced to our young adventurer the command of a company, consisting of two hundred and fifty horsemen, in the regiment of Count Meldrich, a nobleman of Transylvania.
“The regiment in which he served, being engaged in several hazardous enterprises, Smith was foremost in all dangers, and distinguished himself by his ingenuity and by his valor: and when Meldrich left the imperial army and passed into the service of his native prince, Smith followed him.
“At the siege of Regal, the Ottomans derided the slow approaches of the Transylvanian army, and sent a challenge,purporting that the lord Turbisha, to divert the ladies, would fight any single captain of the Christian troops.
“The honor of accepting this challenge, being determined by lot, fell on Captain Smith; who meeting his antagonist on horseback, within view of the ladies on the battlements, at the sound of music began the encounter, and in a short time killed him, and bore away his head in triumph to his general, the lord Moyzes.
“The death of the chief so irritated his friend Crualgo, that he sent a particular challenge to the conqueror, who, meeting him with the same ceremonies, after a smart combat, took off his head also.
“Smith then in his turn sent a message into the town, informing the ladies, that if they wished for more diversion, they should be welcome to his head, in case their third champion could take it.
“The challenge was accepted by Bonamalgro, who unhorsed Smith, and was near gaining the victory; but remounting in a critical moment he gave the Turk a stroke with his falchion, which brought him to the ground, and his head was added to the number.
“For these singular exploits he was honored with a military procession, consisting of six thousand men, three led horses, and the Turks’ heads on the points of their lances. With this ceremony Smith was conducted to the pavilion of his general, who, after embracing him, presented him with a horse richly furnished, a scymetar and belt worth three hundred ducats, and a commission to be major in his regiment.
“The prince of Transylvania, after the capture of the place, made him a present of his picture set in gold, and a pension of three hundred ducats per annum; and moreover granted him a coat of arms, bearing three Turks’ heads in a shield.
“The patent was admitted and received in the college of heralds in England, by Sir Henry Segar, garter king at arms. Smith was always proud of this distinguished honor, and these arms are accordingly blazoned in the frontispiece to his history, with this motto, ‘Vincere est vivere.’
“After this, the Transylvanian army was defeated by a body of Turks and Tartars near Rotention, and many brave men were slain, among whom were nine English and Scots officers, who, after the fashion of that day, had entered into this service, from a religious zeal to drive the Turks out of Christendom.
“Smith was wounded in this battle and lay among the dead. His habit discovered him to the victors as a person of consequence; they used him well till his wounds were healed, and then sold him to the Basha Bogul, who sent him as a present to his mistress, Tragabigzanda at Constantinople, accompanied with a message, as full of vanity as void of truth, that he had conquered a Bohemian nobleman, and presented him to her as a slave.
“The present proved more acceptable to the lady than her lord intended. She could speak Italian; and Smith in that language not only informed her of his country and quality, but conversed with her in so pleasing a manner as to gain her affections. The connection proved so tender, that tosecure him for herself, and to prevent his being ill-used, she sent him to her brother, the bashaw of Nalbraitz, in the country of the Cambrian Tartars on the borders of the sea of Azoph. Her pretence was, that he should there learn the manners and language as well as religion of the Tartars.
“By the terms in which she wrote to her brother, he suspected her design, and resolved to disappoint her. Within an hour after Smith’s arrival he was stripped, his head and beard were shaven, an iron collar was put about his neck, he was clothed with a coat of hair-cloth, and driven to labor among the Christian slaves.
“He had now no hope of redemption, but from the love of his mistress, who was at a great distance, and not likely to be informed of his misfortunes. The hopeless condition of his fellow slaves could not alleviate his despondency.
“In the depth of his distress an opportunity presented for an escape, which to a person of less courageous and adventurous spirit would have been an aggravation of misery. He was employed in threshing at a grange in a large field, about a league from the house of his tyrant; who in his daily visits treated him with abusive language, accompanied with blows and kicks.
“This was more than Smith could bear; wherefore watching an opportunity, when no other person was present, he levelled a stroke at him with his threshing instrument, which dispatched him.
“Then hiding his body in the straw, and shutting the door, he filled a bag with grain, mounted the bashaw’s horse, andbetaking himself to the desert, wandered for two or three days, ignorant of the way, and so fortunate as not to meet with a single person, who might give information of his flight.
“At length he came to a post, erected in a cross road, by the marks on which he found the way to Muscovy, and in sixteen days he arrived at Exapolis, on the river Don; where was a Russian garrison, the commander of which, understanding that he was a Christian, received him courteously, took off his iron collar, and gave him letters to the other governors in that region.
“Thus he travelled through part of Russia and Poland, till he got back to his friends in Transylvania; receiving presents in his way from many persons of distinction, among whom he particularly mentions a charitable lady, Callamata, being always proud of his connection with that sex, and fond of acknowledging their favors. At Leipsic he met with his colonel, Count Meldrich, and Sigismund, prince of Transylvania, who gave him one thousand five hundred ducats to repair his losses.
“With this money he was enabled to travel through Germany, France, and Spain, and having visited the kingdom of Morocco, he returned by sea to England; having in his passage enjoyed the pleasure of another naval engagement.
“At his arrival in his native country, he had a thousand ducats in his purse, which, with the interest he had remaining in England, he devoted to seek adventures and make discoveries in North America.”
Reader, if thou hast perused the preceding sketch of the life of Captain Smith, pause one moment, and reflect, that all that is here recorded, he performed, passed through, and suffered, before he came to the wild shores of the new world. And that here he entered upon a new field of enterprise, and of suffering, and of daring, not less remarkable than the scenes which had already given such wonderful interest to his eventful life. Follow him to the wilderness of Virginia, and witness the toils and struggles he went through to plant the first European settlement in these states. Behold him the guardian spirit of the little colony, in repeated instances and in various ways protecting it by his single arm from utter destruction. When the colony was sinking under famine, the energy and activity of Smith always brought them food; when beset by the subtle and ferocious tribes around them, the courage and skill of Smith never failed to prove a safe and sufficient shield for their protection. When traitors among them sought to rob and abandon the colony, they were detected by his penetration and punished by his power. It mattered not what nominal rank he held in the colony, whether vested with office, or filling only the humble post of a private individual, it was to him that all eyes were turned in times of difficulty and danger, and it was his name alone that struck terror to the hearts of the hostile savages.
With a dozen men in an open boat, he performs a voyage of a thousand miles, surveying the shores of the great Chesapeake Bay and exploring its noble tributary streams, with thousands of the wild sons of the forest ready to meethim at every turn. When, in the cabin of the powerful chief Opechancanough, five hundred warriors, armed with bow and club, surrounded him with a determination to seize him and put him to death, who but Captain John Smith would have extricated himself from his perilous situation? Nothing daunted, he seized the giant chieftain by the hair of his head with one hand, held a pistol to his breast with the other, and led him out trembling among his people, and made them throw down their arms.
In short, for romantic adventure, “hair-breadth escapes,” the sublimity of courage, high and honorable feeling, and true worth of character, the history of the world may be challenged to produce a parallel to Captain John Smith, the founder of Virginia.
And well might English hearts beat high,When first they breathed thy virgin air;For never to them seem’d sky so bright,Nor ever a land so fair.
And well might English hearts beat high,When first they breathed thy virgin air;For never to them seem’d sky so bright,Nor ever a land so fair.
And well might English hearts beat high,When first they breathed thy virgin air;For never to them seem’d sky so bright,Nor ever a land so fair.
“Every object that struck their senses, as they sailed up the Chesapeake, was well calculated to awaken hope in the minds of the adventurers. They were almost enclosed in one of the most spacious bays in the world; whilst the rich verdure, with which a genial and early spring had clad the forest, ascending from the edge of the shore to the summits of the hills, presented a prospect at once regular and magnificent. It was a sort of vast amphitheatre, the limitsof which were the horizon; and when to the real beauty of the landscape, be added the ardent spirit of adventure, which delights in the marvellous, and kindles and dilates itself by the enthusiasm of fancy; there is little cause for our surprise at the glowing descriptions of the first settlers, who represented it as a kind of earthly paradise or elisium.”—Burk’s History of Virginia.
There is a simplicity and an occasional richness in the original descriptions of Captain Smith, which cannot fail to be relished by the reader.
“There is but one entrance by sea into this country, and that is at the mouth of a very goodly bay eighteen or twenty miles broad. The cape at the south is Cape Henry, in honor of our most noble prince. The land white hilly sands, like unto the Downes, and all along the shores great plentie of pines and firres.
“The north cape is called Cape Charles, in honor of the worthy Duke of Yorke; the isles before it, Smith’s Isles, by the name of the discoverer. Within is a country that may have the prerogative over the most pleasant places knowne, for large and pleasant navigable rivers; heaven and earth never agreed better to frame a place for man’s habitation. Here are mountains, hills, plains, valleys, rivers, and brookes, all running most pleasantly into a faire bay, compassed but for the mouth with fruitful and delightsome land.
“The mountains are of divers natures; for at the head ofthe bay the rockes are of a composition like millstones. Some of marble, &c. And many pieces like christall, we found, as throwne downe by water from those mountains. These waters wash from the rockes such glistering tinctures, that the ground in some places seemeth as guilded, where both the rockes and the earth are so splendent to behold,that better judgements than ours might have beene persuaded they contained more than probabilities. The vesture of the earth in most places doth manifestly prove the nature of the soyle to be lusty and very rich.
“The country is not mountainous, nor yet low; but such pleasant plaines, hils, and fertile valleyes, one prettily crossing another, and watered so conveniently with fresh brooks and springs, no less commodious and delightsome. By the rivers are many plaine marishes. Other plaines there are few, but only where the savages inhabit; but all overgrowne with trees and weeds, being a plaine wilderness as God first made it.
“The windes here are variable, but the like thunder and lightning to purify the air, I have seldome either seene or heard in Europe.”—Smith’s Virginia, published in London, 1629.
In the same work, giving an account of an earlier voyage of discovery to the western continent, under the patronage of Sir Walter Raleigh, the author says, “The second of July they fell with the coast of Florida in shoule water, where they felt a most delicate sweete smell. They found their first landing-place very sandy and low, but so full ofgrapes, that the very surge of the sea sometimes overflowed them; of which they found such plenty in all places, both on the sand, the greene soyle and hils, as in the plaines, as well on every little shrub, as also climbing towards the tops of high cedars, that they did thinke in the world were not the like abundance.” * * * *
“Discharging our muskets, such a flocke of cranes, the most white, arose by us, with such a cry as if an army of men had shouted altogether.”
The woods contained “the highest and reddest cedars of the world, bettering them of the Assores, Indies or Libanus; pines, cypress, saxefras, the lentish that beareth mastick, and many other of excellent smell and quality.”
“The soyle is most plentifull, sweete, wholesome, and fruitfull of all other; there are about fourteen severall sorts of sweete smelling tymber trees; such oaks as we, but far greater and better.”