This Country Of Ours by Henrietta Elizabeth Marshall (general ebook reader txt) 📖

next spoke sternly to his new subjects. He warned them that he would no longer endure their sluggish idleness or haughty disobedience. And if they did not amend their ways they might look to it that the most severe punishment of the law would come upon them. Having thus spoken his mind plainly, to cheer them he told of the plentiful and good stores he had brought with him, of which all those who worked well and faithfully should have a share.

Now a new life began for the colony. All the settlers were made to work for some hours every day. Even the gentlemen among them, “whose breeding never knew what a day’s labour meant,” had to do their share. Soon the houses were rebuilt, the palisades stood again in place, two forts were erected to guard against attacks by the Indians, and at length the colony seemed to be on the fair way to success.

Of course this did not all happen at once. The idlers were not easily turned into diligent workers, or unruly brawlers into peaceful citizens. Indeed it was only through most stern, and what would seem to us now most cruel punishments, that the unruly were forced to keep the law.

The winter after Lord Delaware came out as Governor, although not so hard as that of the Starving Time, was yet severe, and many of the colonists died. Lord Delaware, too, became so ill that in the spring he sailed home to England, and after a little time Sir Thomas Dale took his place as Deputy Governor.

Sir Thomas Dale was both a soldier and a statesman. He was full of energy and courage. Far-seeing and dogged, he was merciless to the evildoers, yet kindly to those who tried to do well. Under his stern yet righteous rule the colony prospered.

At first only men settlers had come out, then one or two women joined them, and now many more women came, so that the men, instead of all living together, married and had homes of their own. Then, too, at first all a man’s labour went into the common stock, and the men who worked little fared as well as those who worked a great deal. So the lazy fellow did as little as he could. “Glad when he could slip from his labour,” says an old writer, “or slumber over his task he cared not how.”

Thus most of the work of the colony was left to the few who were industrious and willing. Sir Thomas Dale changed that. In return for a small yearly payment in corn he gave three acres of land to every man who wished it, for his own use. So, suddenly, a little community of farmers sprang up. Now that the land was really their own, to make of it what they would, each man tilled it eagerly, and soon such fine crops of grain were raised that the colony was no longer in dread of starvation. The settlers, too, began to spread and no longer kept within the palisade round Jamestown, “more especially as Jamestown,” says an old writer, “was scandalised for an unhealthy aire.” And here and there further up the river little villages sprang up.

Since Smith had gone home the Indians had remained unfriendly, and a constant danger to the colonists. And now as they became thus scattered the danger from the Indians became ever greater. Old Powhatan and his men were constantly making raids upon the Palefaces with whom he had once been so friendly. And in spite of the watch they kept he often succeeded in killing them or taking them prisoner. He had also by now quite a store of swords, guns and tools stolen from the English. And how to subdue him, or force him to live on friendly terms with them once more, none knew.

Pocahontas, who had been so friendly and who had more than once saved the Palefaces from disaster, might have helped them. But she now never came near their settlement; indeed she seemed to have disappeared altogether. So the English could get no aid from her.

But now it happened one day that one of the adventurers, Samuel Argall, who was, it is written, “a good Marriner, and a very civil gentleman,” went sailing up the Appomattox in search of corn for the settlement. He had to go warily because no one could tell how the Indians would behave, for they would be friends or foes just as it suited them. If they got the chance of killing the Palefaces and stealing their goods they would do so. But if they were not strong enough to do that they would willingly trade for the coloured cloths, beads and hatchets they so much wanted.

Presently Argall came to the country of one of the chiefs with whom he had made friends. While here he was told that Pocahontas, the great Powhatan’s daughter, was living with the tribe. As soon as he heard this Captain Argall saw at once that here was a means of forcing the Powhatan to make peace, and he resolved at all costs to get possession of Pocahontas. So sending for the chief he told him he must bring Pocahontas on board his ship.

But the chief was afraid and refused to do this.

“Then we are no longer brothers and friends,” said Argall.

“My father,” said the chief, “be not wroth. For if I do this thing the Powhatan will make war upon me and upon my people.”

“My brother,” said Argall,” have no fear; if so be that the Powhatan shall make war upon you I will join with you against him to overthrow him utterly. I mean, moreover, no manner of hurt to Pocahontas, but will only keep her as hostage until peace be made between the Powhatan and the Palefaces. If therefore you do my bidding I will give to you the copper kettle which you desire so much.”

Now the chief longed greatly to possess the copper kettle. So he promised to do as Argall asked, and began to cast about for an excuse for getting Pocahontas on board. Soon he fell upon a plan. He bade his wife pretend that she was very anxious to see the Englishman’s ship. But when she asked to be taken on board he refused to go with her. Again and again she asked. Again and again the chief refused. Then the poor lady wept with disappointment and at length the chief, pretending to be very angry, swore that he would beat her if she did not cease her asking and her tears. But as she still begged and wept he said he would take her if Pocahontas would go too.

To please the old woman Pocahontas went. Captain Argall received all three very courteously, and made a great feast for them in his cabin. The old chief, however, was so eager to get his promised kettle that he could little enjoy the feast, but kept kicking Captain Argall under the table as much as to say, “I have done my part, now you do yours.”

At length Captain Argall told Pocahontas that she must stay with him until peace was made between her father and the white men. As soon as the old chief and his wife heard that they began to howl, and cry, and make a great noise, so as to pretend that they knew nothing about the plot. Pocahontas too began to cry. But Argall assured her that no harm was intended her, and that she need have no fear. So she was soon comforted and dried her eyes.

As for the wily old Indians they were made quite happy with the copper kettle and a few other trifles, and went merrily back to the shore.

A messenger was then sent to the Powhatan telling him that his daughter, whom he loved so dearly, was a prisoner, and that he could only ransom her by sending back all the Palefaces he held prisoner, with all their guns, swords and tools which he had stolen.

When Powhatan got this news he was both angry and sorry. For he loved his daughter very dearly, but he loved the Englishmen’s tools and weapons almost more. He did not know what to do, so for three months he did nothing. Then at last he sent back seven of his prisoners, each one carrying a useless gun.

“Tell your chieftain,” he said, “that all the rest of the arms of the Palefaces are lost, or have been stolen from me. But if the Palefaces will give back my daughter I will give satisfaction for all the other things I have taken, together with five hundred bushels of corn, and will make peace forever.”

But the Englishmen were not easily deceived. They returned a message to the chief saying, “Your daughter is well used. But we do not believe the rest of our arms are either lost or stolen, and therefore until you send them we will keep your daughter.”

The Powhatan was so angry when he got this message that for a long time he would have no further dealings with the Palefaces, but continued to vex and harass them as much as he could.

At length Sir Thomas Dale, seeking to put an end to this, took Pocahontas, and with a hundred and fifty men sailed up the river to the Powhatan’s chief town.

As soon as the savages saw the white men they came down to the river’s bank, jeering at them and insulting them, haughtily demanding why they had come.

“We have brought the Powhatan’s daughter,” replied the Englishmen. “For we are come to receive the ransom promised, and if you do not give it willingly we will take it by force.”

But the savages were not in the least afraid at that threat. They jeered the more.

“If so be,” they cried, “that you are come to fight you are right welcome, for we are ready for you. But we advise you, if you love your lives, to retire with haste. Else we will serve you as we have served others of your countrymen.”

“Oh,” answered the Englishmen, “we must have a better answer than that,” and driving their ship nearer to the shore they made ready to land.

But as soon as they were within bow shot the savages let fly their arrows. Thick and fast they fell, rattling on the deck, glancing from the men’s armour, wounding not a few. This reception made the Englishmen angry, so without more ado they launched their boats and made for the shore. The savages fled at their coming, and so enraged were the colonists against them that they burned their houses, and utterly destroyed their town. Then they sailed on up the river in pursuit of the Redmen.

Next day they came up again with the savages. They were now not so insolent and sent a messenger to ask why the Palefaces had burned their town.

“Why did you fire upon us?” asked the Englishmen, sternly.

“Brothers,” replied the Redmen, “we did not fire upon you. It was but some stray savages who did so. We intend you no hurt and are your friends.”

With these and many other fair words they tried to pacify the Palefaces. So the Englishmen, who had no wish to fight, made peace with them. Then the Indians sent a messenger to the Powhatan who was a day’s journey off; and the Englishmen were told they must wait two days for his answer.

Meanwhile the Englishmen asked to see their comrades whom the Indians had taken prisoner.

“We cannot show them to you,” replied the wily Redmen, “for they have all run away in fear lest you should hang them. But the Powhatan’s men are pursuing after them, and will doubtless bring them back.”

“Then where are the swords and guns which you