Steering for that portion of the mainland where the former ill-fated colonies had been planted, the vessels were soon out of their reckoning and beat about for several days without sight of land. They had been already four months upon a voyage that should have occupied no more than two and had made serious inroads into the stock of provisions which was calculated to furnish the store of the settlers. They began to grow fearful and discontented. Many wished to put about and sail homeward, and even Ratcliffe, the captain of the Discovery, favored such a course. Whilst they were debating the proposition, a violent storm arose and luckily drove them to their destination. On the twenty-sixth day of April, 1607, they entered the Bay of Chesapeake.
Eager to see the new land of promise, a party of the colonists went ashore that day. They wandered through forest and glade, cheered by the genial warmth of the southern clime and delighted with the beautiful scenery and luxuriant vegetation. But before they returned to the ships they were reminded that this natural paradise was in possession of a savage people who could hardly be expected to respect King James’s gift of their land to strangers. As the exploring party made their way back to the shore they fell into an ambush—the first of many which they were destined to experience. They had not seen a human being since landing, and the shower of arrows that proclaimed the presence of the Indians came as a complete surprise. Neither redman nor paleface was quite prepared for intimate acquaintance at this time, and the sound of the muskets sent the former scurrying to the hills whilst the latter hurried to the shelter of the ships, carrying two men who had been severely wounded.
Thus the Jamestown colonists came to America. How little they were qualified for the work before them we have already seen. As we progress with our story we shall see how often they brought misfortune upon themselves and how the wisdom and energy of one man saved the undertaking from utter failure.
[XIV.]
POWHATAN AND HIS PEOPLE
The President and Council are established and a settlement made at Jamestown—Newport and Smith go on an exploring expedition—They meet Powhatan, the great Werowance of the country—They are feasted and fêted by the old Chief—A quick return to Jamestown and a timely arrival—The Indians attack the settlers and take them unawares—Gallant stand made by the gentlemen adventurers—The appearance of Newport and his men prevents a massacre—A fort and stockade are hurriedly erected—Smith is tried on a charge of treason and triumphantly acquitted—Captain Newport returns to England with the two larger ships.
It was, indeed, a fair land to which the white men had journeyed from over the seas. Smith says of it: “Heaven and earth never agreed better to frame a place for man’s habitation. Here are mountains, hills, plains, rivers, and brooks, all running most pleasantly into a fair bay, compassed, but for the mouth, with fruitful and delightsome land.” The country was covered, for the most part, with virgin forest. Here and there a small clearing afforded a site for a cluster of wigwams around which lay fields of maize or other cereals. The birds and animals that we prize most highly as table delicacies abounded in the wilds, and the waters swarmed with fish.
A very small proportion of the land was occupied. The Indian villages were few and miles apart. The country round about the Jamestown settlement was in the possession of the Algonquin tribe, divided into many bands, generally numbering not more than a few hundred souls, each band under its own chief and all owning allegiance to a king or werowance named Powhatan. There was constant intercourse between the villages, and their men joined together for purposes of war, or the chase. Rough forest trails formed the only roads between the different centres, whilst blazed trees marked by-paths that led to springs, favorite trapping grounds, or other localities of occasional resort.
The royal orders permitted the opening of the box of instructions as soon as the colonists should have reached Virginia, and they lost no time in satisfying their anxiety to learn the membership of the Council. It appeared that the King had selected for that distinction and responsibility, Edward Wingfield, Bartholomew Gosnold, Christopher Newport, John Ratcliffe, George Kendall and John Smith. The last named was still in irons and his fellow-councilmen were, with the possible exception of Newport, unfriendly to him. It was decided that he should not be admitted to the body, and the remaining members proceeded to elect Wingfield, Smith’s arch-enemy, to the position of President.