Seventeen days were employed in searching for a spot suited to a settlement (May 13th). At length they selected a peninsula, on the north side of the river, about forty miles from its mouth, and immediately commenced the well-known city of Jamestown.
A commendable industry seems at first to have prevailed. The council contrived a fort, the settlers felled the trees, pitched their tents, prepared gardens, made nets for the fish which abounded in the river, and already began to provide clapboards to freight the ships on their return to England.
But these fair promises of good were destined to a speedy betrayal. Already discord prevailed in their counsels, and a flagrant act of injustice had been committed, which soon recoiled upon the heads of its authors. We have heretofore mentioned the name of John Smith among the persons nominated for the council, and have spoken of the violent imprisonment to which he was subjected during the outward voyage. Jealousy of his merit and commanding talents did not stop at this point. He was excluded from his place in the council, and an entry was made in their records detailing the alleged reason for this act.
John Smith is the hero of the romantic destinies that attended the early life of Virginia; and the historian who would attempt to tell of her fortunes and yet neglect his story would be recreant to his trust. Nations have generally owed their brightest days of power or of happiness to the genius of a single person—directing their energies, subduing their follies, enlightening their seasons of early ignorance. Assyria has had her Semiramis, China her Confucius, Arabia her Mahomet, England her Alfred; and were we required to point to the man to whom America is principally indebted for the care of her infant years, we would not hesitate to name the heroic spirit who now appears before us.
His talent for command excited the mean jealousy of inferior souls, only that his merit might appear brighter by contrast. If we have aught to urge against him, it is that he met the treachery of the Indians with a severe spirit, but too much akin to that of the Spaniards in the South. Yet we cannot reproach him with undeserved cruelty or with deliberate falsehood, and the stern demands of his circumstances often rendered inevitable acts which would otherwise have been ungrateful to his soul.
When the council was constituted, Edward Maria Wingfield was elected president—a man who always proved an inveterate enemy to Smith, and who speedily attracted the hatred even of his accomplices by his rapacity, his cowardice, and his selfish extravagance. Smith demanded a trial, but the council feared to trust their wretched charge to an impartial jury, and pretended, in mercy to him, to keep him under suspension. But their own incompetence soon brought his talents into demand. He accompanied Newport upon an exploring voyage up the river, and ascended to the residence of King Powhatan, a few miles below the falls, and not far from the spot now occupied by the city of Richmond. The royal seat consisted of twelve small houses, pleasantly placed on the north bank of the river, and immediately in front of three verdant islets. His Indian majesty received them with becoming hospitality, though his profound dissimulation corresponded but too well with the treacherous designs of his followers. He had long ruled with sovereign sway among the most powerful tribes of Virginia, who had been successively subdued by his arms, and he now regarded with distrust the event of men whom his experience taught him to fear and his injuries to detest.
On their return to Jamestown they found that, during their absence, the Indians had made an attack upon the settlement, had slain one boy, and wounded seventeen men. The coward spirit of Wingfield had caused this disaster. Fearful of mutiny he refused to permit the fort to be palisaded or guns to be mounted within. The assault of the savages might have been more fatal, but happily a gun from the ships carried a crossbar-shot among the boughs of a tree above them, and, shaking them down upon their heads, produced great consternation. The frightened wretches fled in dismay from an attack too mysterious to be solved, yet too terrible to be withstood.
After this disaster the fears of Wingfield were overruled—the fort was defended by palisades, and armed with heavy ordnance, the men were exercised, and every precaution was used to guard against a sudden attack or a treacherous ambuscade.
Smith had indignantly rejected every offer held out to him by the artifices of the council. He now again demanded a trial in a manner that could not be resisted. The examination took place and resulted in his full acquittal. So evident was the injustice of the president that he was adjudged to pay to the accused two hundred pounds, which sum the generous Smith immediately devoted to the store of the colony. Thus elevated to his merited place in the council, he immediately devised and commenced active schemes for the welfare of the settlers, and on June 15th Newport left the colony, and set forth on his voyage of return to England.
Left to their own resources, the colonists began to look with gloomy apprehension upon the prospect before them. While the ships remained, they enjoyed sea-stores, which to them were real luxuries, but now they had little whereupon to feast, except a miserable compound of wheat and barley boiled with water, and even to the larger portion of this the worms successfully laid claim. Crabs and oysters were sought with indolent greediness, and this unwholesome fare, with the increasing heats of the season, produced sickness, which preyed rapidly on their strength. The rank vegetation of the country pleased the eye, but it was fatal to the health. In ten days hardly ten settlers were able to stand. Before the month of September fifty of their number were committed to the grave, and among them we mark, with sorrow, the name of Bartholomew Gosnold. The gallant seaman might have passed many years upon the stormy coasts of the continent, but he sank among the first victims who risked their lives for colonization.