It is, indeed, in all probability true that losing Smith was the chief cause of the horrors of the Starving Time. The colony was not ill supplied when he left it, in October, 1609, for the stock of hogs had increased to about 600, and the Third Supply had brought sheep and goats as well as horses. All this advantage had been destroyed by the active hostility of the Indians, which was due to the outrageous conduct of white ruffians whom Smith would have restrained or punished. But for this man's superb courage and resourcefulness, one can hardly believe that the colony would have lasted until 1609. More likely it would have perished in one of the earlier seasons of sore trial. It would have succumbed like Lane's colony, and White's, and Popham's; one more would have been added to the sickening list of failures, and the hopes built upon Virginia in England would have been sadly dashed. The utmost ingenuity on the part of Smith's detractors can never do away with the fact that his personal qualities did more than anything else to prevent such a direful calamity; and for this reason he will always remain a great and commanding figure in American history.
Three sources of weakness.
Lord Delaware's administration.
The arrival of Lord Delaware in June, 1610, was the prelude to a new state of things. The pathetic scene in which that high-minded nobleman knelt in prayer upon the shore at Jamestown heralded the end of the chaos through which Smith had steered the colony. But the change was not effected all in a moment. The evils were too deep-seated for that. There had been three principal sources of weakness: first, the lack of a strong government with unquestioned authority; secondly, the system of communism in labour and property; thirdly, the low character of the emigrants. This last statement does not apply to the earlier settlers so much as to those who began to come in 1609. The earliest companies were mainly composed of respectable persons, but as the need for greater numbers grew imperative, inducements were held out which attracted a much lower grade of people. Neither this evil nor the evils flowing from communism were remedied during Lord Delaware's brief rule, but the first evil was entirely removed. In such a rude settlement a system by which a council elected its president annually, and could depose him at any time, was sure to breed faction and strife; strong government had been attained only when the strong man Smith was left virtually alone by the death or departure of the other councillors. Now there was no council, but instead of it a governor appointed in London and clothed with despotic power. Lord Delaware was a man of strict integrity, kind and humane, with a talent for command, and he was obeyed. His first act on that memorable June Sunday, after a sermon had been preached and his commission read, was to make a speech to the settlers, in which, to cite his own words, "I did lay some blames on them for many vanities and their idleness, earnestly wishing that I might no more find it so, lest I should be compelled to draw the sword of justice to cut off such delinquents, which I had much rather draw in their defence to protect from enemies."[82] Happily he was not called upon to draw it except against the Indians, to whom he administered some wholesome doses of chastisement. The colonists were kept at work, new fortifications were erected and dismantled houses put in repair. The little church assumed a comfortable and dignified appearance, with its cedar pews and walnut altar, its tall pulpit and baptismal font. The governor was extremely fond of flowers and at all services would have the church decorated with the bright and fragrant wild growth of the neighbourhood. At such times he always appeared in the full dignity of velvet and lace, attended by a body-guard of spearmen in scarlet cloaks. A full-toned bell was hung in its place, and daily it notified the little industrial army when to begin and when to leave off the work of the day.
Death of Somers, and cruise of Argall, 1610.
Discipline was rigidly maintained, but the old danger of famine was not yet fully overcome. The difficulty was foreseen immediately after Delaware's arrival, and the veteran Somers at once sailed with the two pinnaces for the Bermudas, intending to bring back a cargo of salted pork and live hogs for breeding. His consort was commanded by Samuel Argall, a young kinsman of Sir Thomas Smith, the treasurer of the London Company. The two ships were parted by bad weather, and Somers, soon after landing at Bermuda, fell sick and died, with his last breath commanding his men to fulfil their errand and go back to Virginia. But they, disgusted with the wilderness and thinking only of themselves, went straight to England, taking with them the old knight's body embalmed. As for young Argall, the stress of weather drove him to Cape Cod, where he caught many fish; then cruising along the coast he reached Chesapeake Bay and went up the Potomac River, where he found a friend in the head sachem of the Potomac tribe and bought as much corn as his ship could carry. With these welcome supplies Argall reached Jamestown in September, and then Newport took the ships back to England, carrying with him Sir Thomas Gates to make a report of all that had happened and to urge the Company to fresh exertions. The winter of 1610-11 was a hard one, though not to be compared with the Starving Time of the year before. There were about 150 deaths, and Lord Delaware, becoming too ill to discharge his duties, sailed for England in March, 1611, intending to send Gates immediately back to Virginia. George Percy, who had commanded the colony through the Starving Time, was again left in charge.
Sir Thomas Dale.
Meanwhile the Company had been bestirring itself. A survey of the subscription list for that winter shows that English pluck was getting aroused; the colony must be set upon its feet. The list of craftsmen desired for Virginia is curious and interesting: millwrights, iron founders, makers of edge tools, colliers, woodcutters, ship-wrights, fishermen, husbandmen, gardeners, bricklayers, lime-burners, blacksmiths, shoemakers, coopers, turners, gunmakers, wheelwrights, masons, millers, bakers, and brewers figure on the list with many others. But there must have been difficulty in getting enough of such respectable workmen together in due season for Newport's return trip; for when that mariner started in March, 1611, with three ships and 300 passengers, it was a more shiftless and graceless set of ne'er-do-weels than had ever been sent out before. One lesson, however, had been learned; and victuals enough were taken to last the whole colony for a year. Gates, the deputy-governor, was not ready to go, and his place was supplied by Sir Thomas Dale, who for the purpose was appointed High Marshal of Virginia. Under that designation this remarkable man ruled the colony for the next five years, though his superior, Gates, was there with him for a small part of the time. Lord Delaware, whose tenure of office as governor was for life, remained during those five years in England. If the Company erred in sending out scapegraces for settlers, it did its best to repair the error in sending such a man as Dale to govern them. Hard-headed, indomitable, bristling with energy, full of shrewd common-sense, Sir Thomas Dale was always equal to the occasion, and under his masterful guidance Virginia came out from the valley of the shadow of death. He was a soldier who had seen some of the hardest fighting in the Netherlands, and had afterward been attached to the suite of Henry, Prince of Wales. He was connected by marriage with Sir Walter Raleigh and with the Berkeleys.
Dale was a true English mastiff, faithful and kind but formidable when aroused, and capable of showing at times some traits of the old wolf. The modern excess of pity misdirected, which tries to save the vilest murderers from the gallows, would have been to him incomprehensible. To the upright he was a friend and helper; toward depraved offenders he was merciless, and among those over whom he was called to rule there were many such. John Smith judiciously criticised the policy of the Company in sending out such people; for, he says, "when neither the fear of God, nor shame, nor displeasure of their friends could rule them [in England], there is small hope ever to bring one in twenty of them ever to be good [in Virginia], Notwithstanding I confess divers amongst them had better minds and grew much more industrious than was expected; yet ten good workmen would have done more substantial work in a day than ten of them in a week."[83] It was not against those who had better minds that Dale's heavy hand was directed; it was reserved for the incorrigible and crushed them. When he reached Jamestown, in May, 1611, he found that the two brief months of Percy's mild rule had already begun to bear ill fruit; men were playing at bowls in working hours, quite oblivious of planting and hoeing.
A Draconian code.