THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 THE COLLECTION OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINIANA 
 
 FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 Archibald Henderson 
 
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AMERICAN 
 
 HISTOEICAL TALES 
 
 FOE 
 
 YOUTH 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 
 D. APPLETON & CO., 200 BROADWAY. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 GEORGE S. APPLETON, 164 CHESNUT-ST. 
 
PREFACE TO PARENTS. 
 
 In presenting to his young Countrymen, the 
 first of a series of books with the foregoing title, 
 the Editor begs leave to state, briefly and sim- 
 ply, the plan of the series, and the reason which 
 has prompted him to the undertaking. Indeed, 
 he can hardly expect the patronage and support 
 of those who sustain the interesting and respon- 
 sible relationship of parents, without such a 
 statement. 
 
 The design is to present to his young fellow- 
 citizens books of a higher value than those usu- 
 ally afforded them. Instead of tales and stories, 
 written for the young, the series will embrace 
 volumes of Biography, History, Travels, &c. 
 As it is designed especially for American youth, 
 the subjects will not unfrequently be American. 
 The intelligent man or child, however, will be 
 glad to gather profitable and interesting lessons 
 1* 
 
6 PREFACE TO PARENTS. 
 
 "R'herever he may find them, and subjects afford- 
 ing such lessons, will not be excluded from the 
 series, from whatever quarter they may be de- 
 rived. 
 
 It has grown into the familiarity of an adage, 
 that " early impressions are the strongest," and 
 this is the principal reason which has prompted 
 the enterprise. It is known to parents, and per- 
 haps to children themselves, that the young in this 
 day enjoy peculiar advantages. The time was, 
 when books written for children, were far beyond 
 the comprehension of a child ; now they are writ- 
 ten plainly and simply, so that an intelligent boy 
 or girl may readily appreciate and understand 
 them. This alone has begotten, perhaps, m chil- 
 dren of the present day, a greater fondness for read- 
 ing. Of the style of these books the Editor does 
 not complain, but he thinks that the subjects are 
 not unfrequently bad. Tales and romances are 
 written for the young, giving them frequently dis- 
 torted pictures of human life, and calling forth 
 in them an early taste for trifling and unprofit- 
 able reading. He would not here be under- 
 stood as finding fault with those beautiful stories, 
 sometimes inculcating the most beautiful lessons 
 of morality and religion ; but, on the contrary, 
 would express his thanks to the men of genius 
 
PREFACE TO PARENTS. 7 
 
 who have prepared them. Books of such value, 
 however, in this class are exceedingly rare. 
 
 In presenting to the young volumes of Biogra- 
 phy, upon well-selected subjects, he hopes he 
 is giving to his young Countrymen, the best 
 practical examples for calling them up to a lofty 
 energy. History is itself " stranger than fiction," 
 and opens a wide and unlimited field of ever vary- 
 ing incident ; and through books of Travels they 
 learn to sit at home like the sweet poet Cowper, 
 (as most of them, perhaps, will be forced to do,) 
 and see various pictures of the world. The 
 men, manners, and things of real life thus be- 
 come familiar to them. It is to be hoped, 
 and humbly expected, that a taste for such read- 
 ing, early acquired, will serve to make them, in 
 after life, more profitable and interesting mem- 
 bers of society. 
 
 His young Countrymen having been pleased 
 to receive his former trifles, written for their 
 benefit, with approbation and kindness, he feels 
 that he can make them no more grateful return 
 than by an honest endeavor to do them a higher 
 service. He will have his reward, if they are 
 pleased and instructed. 
 
 In conclusion, the Editor feels that he will 
 have failed in the statement most essential for 
 
8 PREFACE TO PARENTS. 
 
 securing confidence in a teacher for the youno^, 
 if he did not declare himself to be an humble 
 member of the Church Militant, living upon the 
 hope of being one day a member of the Church 
 Triumphant. He considers that all education, 
 to be good, must be based upon Christian prin- 
 ciple: the heart must be cultivated as well as 
 the understanding; and whatever is placed in 
 this series, will be found to be on the side of 
 Christianity. 
 
ADVENTURES OF HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Pleasure and Profit of reading Biograpny-^ 
 The Birth-place of Henry Hudson — Circum,' 
 stances which brought him forward — His Pre- 
 paration for embarking to find a Passage to 
 the East Indies by the JVorth Pole^ in 1607 — 
 Sails on the voyage^ and after many trials, 
 returns at the end of four months and a half 
 havingbeen farther J^orth than any other navi- 
 gator, and having opened the Whale Fishery to 
 his Countrymen. 
 
 It has been my lot to spend some years of my 
 life in the large and flourishing city of New York. 
 I have walked its crowded streets, looked upon 
 its beautiful churches, (these are the first build- 
 ings that I notice in every city,) its fine public 
 buildings, and its elegant private residences. I 
 have in my possession an old picture shewing 
 the appearance of Manhattan Island, upon which 
 2 
 
14 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 the city stands, in the year 1635 — twenty-six 
 years after its discovery by Henry Hudson. It 
 is not a great while since, that I was showing 
 this picture to one of my httle friends, and call- 
 ing his attention to the wonderful change that 
 had passed over the island since the day when 
 Henry Hudson first rested his eyes upon it. It 
 was then a poor island, inhabited by savages, if 
 inhabited at all, with Indian canoes floating in 
 the waters around it. Now it is the largest city 
 in our land, and ships from all quarters of the 
 world rest upon its waters, almost encircling it 
 with a forest of masts. I shall never forget the 
 look of surprise and honest inquiry, in the simple- 
 hearted little boy, as he turned to me with the 
 question, " And w^ho, sir, w"as Henry Hudson ?" 
 He was young, and his ignorance was pardona- 
 ble ; the more so because he confessed it, and 
 at once asked for information. I have thought 
 that many older than himself were perhaps, as 
 ignorant as he was, and therefore have prepared 
 for my young countrymen the story of the hfe 
 and adventures of Henry Hudson. 
 
 Before I begin I must make two remarks to 
 my young friends. First, I know few things 
 more profitable than the study of the lives of our 
 fellow-men. K they were men eminent for good 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 15 
 
 qualities, and men devoting themselves to the 
 improvement of mankind, we feel an ambition 
 kindled in our own bosoms to imitate such men 
 — " to go and do Hkewise" — they are glorious 
 examples for us to follow. If, on the contrary, 
 they have been remarkably bad men, by marking 
 their follies and their sins, we may perhaps, learn 
 to despise their wickedness and shun their ex- 
 amples. And if the individuals have been men 
 who have lived among ourselves, or trod the 
 same ground upon which we ourselves are walk- 
 ing, the example becomes tenfold more forcible. 
 Then, too, I know few things more pleasant 
 Some readers, in their desire for pleasure, are 
 eager to seize each new novel or tale of fiction 
 as it falls from the press — while the stories of 
 real life are crowded with scenes of the wildest 
 romance and most daring adventure. So beau- 
 tiful indeed are these stories, that many writers 
 of fiction seize upon them, and make them the 
 basis of their own tales of romance. They are 
 like painters who are not original in their pic- 
 tures : they are only coloring up and varnishing 
 old pictures, and not unfrequently they spoil the 
 paintings, leaving them only miserable daubs for 
 the people to look at. For my own part, I like 
 the stories of real life in themselves, without any 
 
16 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 of their aid. They are in themselves full of ad- 
 venture ; they are certainly more natural, and 
 above all, they are true. I hope, therefore, that 
 we shall find the study of biography both profita- 
 ble and pleasant, and most of all perhaps, th« 
 study of American Biography. 
 
 It is said that in old times many cities had a 
 contest, each claiming to be the birth-place of 
 the great poet Homer. Some ignorant persons 
 have supposed, that there was a dispute between 
 two nations, as to the birth-place of Henry Hud* 
 son. The Dutch speak of him and write of him 
 as Hendrick Hutson, and this, I suppose, is the 
 foundation of their mistake. The truth is, that 
 all Dutch historians whose opinions are valuable, 
 and who speak of him at any time, know that 
 he was no countryman of theirs, and call him 
 Hendrick Hutson, the bold English navigator. 
 
 It would be pleasant to 'know something of 
 Henry Hudson when he was a boy, that we 
 might trace his career, step by step, till we find 
 him standing a great man before us. It is said 
 that, 
 
 « The Child is father of the Man," 
 
 and if so, we might hope to find him in his 
 school-boy days, a bold and fearless little fellow; 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 17 
 
 but of his parentage, connexions, or education, 
 I am sorry to say, ver^ little is known. He was 
 born in England, and had his home in the city 
 of London. His most cherished and intimate 
 companion was Captain John Smith, the founder 
 of the colony of Virginia. They were much 
 alike in temper and disposition, and it is not 
 wonderful that there was a strong friendship be- 
 tween them. Henry Hudson was also a married 
 man, but we do not know who the woman was 
 who shared his joys and his sorrows. He had 
 one son, for the boy was with his father in all 
 his voyages, of which we know anything, and 
 they at last perished together. 
 
 The fact that so little is known of the early 
 days of Hudson, has always induced me to sup- 
 pose that he was what the world calls a self- 
 made man. The times in which he lived were 
 filled with the daring adventures of hardy navi- 
 gators, the ocean was the pathway to distinc- 
 tion, and his young heart was probably fired 
 with these stories, and his genius possibly, thus 
 thrown in that direction. I have fancied him 
 born to poverty — an obscure and humble boy, 
 struggling against a hard fortune, battling diffi- 
 culty after difficulty with undying perseverance, 
 until at last he forces his way before the world, 
 2* 
 
18 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 the makei of his own fortunes. I love these 
 self-elevated men. It seems as though they were 
 nature's noblemen : the men whom God design- 
 ed should be great and useful to their species, in 
 spite of all the difficulties, which the world pre- 
 sented before them. And I never think of one 
 of them without remembering the multitudes of 
 my young countrymen who are humbly born, 
 and lowly bred. Such men are glorious exam- 
 ples for them, telling them not to be frightened 
 by difficulties, or turned aside by disappointments, 
 but to press right onward in the way of useful- 
 ness, and honorable fame. 
 
 Before Hudson comes fully before us, it is w^ell 
 that you should understand the peculiar circum- 
 stances which brought him forward. After the 
 nations of Europe discovered that there were 
 rich treasures in that region of country, now 
 known as the East Indies, the commerce of that 
 region was brought to them partly over land, 
 and then floated through the Mediterranean Sea. 
 This was a slow and laborious route for trade ; 
 and in a httle time, those nations farthest remov- 
 ed from the advantages of that trade, (such as 
 Spain, Portugal, and England,) became restless, 
 and desirous of finding a new and shorter pas- 
 sage to the East Indies. After many hard and 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 19 
 
 unsuccessful efforts, at length, in 1499, Vasco de 
 Garna, a celebrated Portuguese navigator, doub- 
 led the Cape of Good Hope, and passing on, ap- 
 peared upon the coast of Hindostan. Thus a 
 new track was found, but still it was looked 
 upon as belonging particularly to the Portu- 
 guese, and moreover, it was still a long and 
 dangerous passage. The nations of Europe were 
 not yet satisfied. Still thirsting for a shorter 
 highway to the wealth of the East, they began 
 to think that they might find it by sailing through 
 the Arctic Ocean, and passing north-westwardly 
 arounf^ .he coasts of North America, or north- 
 eastwardly around the shores of Asia, or possibly 
 by moving in a course directly north. You 
 would be wearied, if I should tell you of the many 
 long and perilous voyages undertaken, to find 
 this northern passage. Time and time again, 
 voyager after voyager departed, and all returned 
 unsuccessful. 
 
 The best of all books tells us that " the love 
 of money is the root of all evil." And yet this 
 very desire after the riches of the East, was over- 
 ruled by a wise Providence for good purposes. 
 No northern passage was found, and yet these 
 northern voyages have aided the cause of sci- 
 ence, have discovered new fields of commerce to 
 
20 HENRIJ HUDSON. 
 
 Arctic fishermen, opened to the adventurous nii- 
 tions of the old world new and fertile regions, 
 and trained up for them, a noble, bold, and har- 
 dy race of men. I say a hardy race of men : 
 for nowhere is there a more fearful meeting 
 with the elements of heaven (those elements 
 which man can never control) than in the Arctic 
 Seas. Wind and storm, and famine and disease, 
 are for ever around the voyager, and to this day 
 there is no harder undertaking than the voyag- 
 ing and wintering among the icebergs of the 
 Polar Seas. He who undertakes it even now 
 must have courage, patience, and fortitude under 
 all manner of sufferings. Henry Hudson was a 
 voyager amid these fearful things. 
 
 Notwithstanding all these failures about a 
 northern passage, a number of rich men, living 
 in the city of London, still hoped . that the pas- 
 sage might be found : and in the year 1607, 
 joined themselves together as a London Compa- 
 ny, and furnished the funds necessary for making 
 three voyages. They were determined once 
 more to search for the passage by the three old 
 routes, north, north-east, and north-west. Know- 
 ing that everything depended upon the skill of 
 their commander, they chose for their man Hen- 
 ry Hudson 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 21 
 
 Hudson readily accepted the command, and 
 on the 19th of April, he, with his crew, consist- 
 ing of eleven besides himself,* among whom was 
 his son John Hudson, went to the church of 
 Saint Ethelburge in Bishopsgate-street, and there 
 received the sacrament of the Lord's supper. 
 This was one part of their preparation for going 
 to sea. It was the pious and beautiful custom 
 of those days, for sailors to do this. I am sorry 
 that it has grown out of fashion : it was but say- 
 ing to the whole congregation, that they were 
 about embarking upon the sea to meet unknow^n 
 perils, and that their trust was in God, " who 
 alone spreadeth out the heavens and ruleth the 
 raging of the sea." 
 
 The object of this voyage was to find a pas- 
 sage directly across the Pole, or, as Hudson 
 himself says in his journal, it was " for to dis- 
 cover a passage by the North Pole to Japan and 
 China," — and you will bear in mind, that this 
 was the first effort ever made, to seek a passage 
 directly across the Pole. 
 
 On the 1st day of May, 1607, they weighed 
 
 * The names of the crew, as given in the Journal of this voy- 
 age of 1607, were as follows : " Henry Hudson, master — Wil- 
 liam Colines, mate — James Young, John Colman, John Cooke, 
 James Beubery, James Skrutton, John Pleyce, Thomas Bax- 
 ter, R-ichard Day, James Knight, and John Hudson." 
 
22 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 anchor at Gravesend, and taking a northerly 
 course, in twenty-six days reached the Shetlana 
 Isles. Here Hudson found that the needle had 
 no variation: but on the 30th of JNIay, (four 
 days after,) he " found the needle to incline 
 seventy-nine degrees under the horizon." On 
 the 4th of June he found a " variation of five 
 degrees westerly." From the Shetland Isles, 
 Hudson stood northw^est, his object being, as it 
 would seem, to strike the coast of Greenland. 
 Indeed, he supposed Greenland to be an island, 
 and thought that by keeping a northeast course, 
 he might possibly pass around it. In a week's 
 time, though he had not found land, he made a 
 profitable discovery, for he tells us that on the 
 11th of June, he saw six or seven whales near 
 his ship. Thus you will mark one benefit of 
 this voyage at once ; for afterward, the whale 
 fishery in these ?^^orthern seas became a business 
 of immense profit, to his countrymen. Two days 
 after this, at 2 o'clock in the morning, land was 
 seen ahead, and some ice ; there being a thick 
 fog at the time, he steered away northerly, and 
 the wind coming on to blow hard, he stood aw^ay 
 south and by east six or eight leagues. The 
 weather w^as now so cold, that the sails and 
 shrouds of his ship w^ere covered with ice. In a 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 23 
 
 little time it cleared up, and Hudson ^A-as able to 
 take a fair view of the land. He could now see 
 it stretching in a northeasterly direction nine 
 leacrues before him. " The land," he says, " was 
 very high, mostly covered with snow. At the 
 top it looked reddish, and underneath a blackish 
 clay, with much ice lying about it." I suppose 
 this reddish appearance was what is sometimes 
 called red snow. In those countries where the 
 snow^ is almost perpetual, there is a small plant 
 of a reddish hue which grows upon the snow, 
 and rapidly spreads itself all over it.* In those 
 northern regions,the snow-capped hills often have 
 this covering of red, and it is said, it is sometimes 
 seen even upon the Alps and the Appenines. He 
 noticed too, great quantities of fowl upon the 
 coast, and was near enough to see a whale close 
 by the shore. There was a man of the crew 
 named James Young, and I presume he must 
 have been the first to have observed the land, as 
 Hudson called the head-land before them 
 " Young^s Cape.'' Near this cape he saw " a 
 high mountain like a round castle," and to this 
 he gave the name of the " Mount of God's mer- 
 cy." These were on the coast of Greenland. 
 
 * This plant is known as the Protococcus Nivalis. 
 
24 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 Harassed by thick fogs, storms of ram and 
 snow, driven sometimes before a gale of wind, 
 and at other times becalmed, Hudson still held 
 on in a northeasterly course. He was unwilling 
 to be driven from it, being anxious to know 
 whether the land that he had seen was an island 
 or a part of Greenland : and hoping, above all 
 other things, that he might find Greenland to be 
 an island, and pass easily around it. The fog, 
 however, continued so thick and heavy, day after 
 day, that he could not see the land, until at last, 
 discouraged in this direction, he resolved to steer 
 more easterly, hoping to fall in with an island 
 which he calls Newland, the same island that is 
 marked upon our maps and charts as Spitzber- 
 
 Having sailed some sixteen leagues on this new 
 course, land was again seen on the left hand, (or 
 larboard side of the ship, as sailors say,) stretch- 
 ing southwest and northeast. Hudson thought 
 that he was within four leagues of the land. 
 He observed birds flying over it, but different 
 from those he had seen before. These had 
 "black backs and white bellies, in form much 
 like a duck." Many floating pieces of ice, too, 
 were in the neighborhood of his ship : so that he 
 had to move carefully. To increase his anxiety, 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 25 
 
 the fog again came on, and he began to fear that 
 his ship would be fastened amid these blocks of 
 ice. Still keeping a lookout as well as he could 
 through the darkness, for the point where the 
 land ended eastwardly, he steered northeast 
 five or six leagues, and then turned to the south. 
 Again he was unwilling to turn aside from his 
 purpose. As soon therefore, as the weather 
 cleared up, he stood again northeast, and in a 
 little time land was again seen, as he supposed, 
 twelve leagues distant from him. He then took 
 an observation, and found this land to be in 72 
 degrees 38 minutes north latitude. This land, 
 too, was very different from that which he had 
 seen at Young's Cape : it was a high land, not 
 at all covered with snow, and the southern part 
 rolled away into very high mountains, but no 
 snow rested upon these. To his surprise, he 
 found the weather here not so severe, but on the 
 contrary, temperate and pleasant. He did 
 not, however, explore this land farther. " The 
 many fogs and calms, with contrary winds, and 
 much ice near the shore, held us," (as he says,) 
 " from farther discovery of it." As he knew no 
 name, however, as yet given to the land, (for 
 his charts did not point it out,) he called it the 
 land of Hol(^ with Hope. 
 
26 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 Hudson's employers had desired him to find 
 the passage directly across the Pole, and he seems 
 to have feared that his time might be thought 
 wasted, in some degree, upon the coast of 
 Greenland. In his journal, therefore, he gives 
 the reason for this delay. " The chief cause" 
 (says he) " that moved us thereunto, was our de- 
 sire to see that part of Greenland which (for aught 
 that we knew) was to any Christian unknown : 
 and we thought it might as well have been open 
 sea as land, and by that means our passage 
 should have been the larger to the Pole : and the 
 hope of having a westerly wind, which would be 
 to us a landerly wind if we found land. And, 
 considering we found land contrary to that which 
 our cards make mention of, we accounted our la- 
 bor so much the more worth. And for au^ht 
 
 o 
 
 that we could see, it is like to be a good land, 
 and worth the seeing." 
 
 He now held his course northeastward toward 
 Newland or Spitzbergen. In two or three days, 
 one of the crew again saw high land to the lar- 
 board, which fell away to the west the farther 
 they moved north. This was the last view they 
 had of Greenland. 
 
 Still pressing on, Hudson had continued strug- 
 gles against hard winds and heavy fogs, until at 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 27 
 
 tasi he reached a latitude so high, that the 
 sun was above the horizon the whole twenty- 
 fom hours. Here, then, the fogs could not annoy 
 him so much. On the night of the 25th, he 
 again saw birds like those he had seen upon the 
 coast of Greenland, and supposed that land must 
 be near, but it was too dark for him to discover 
 it. On the morning of the 26th, he again saw 
 birds of many kinds flying about his ship, and 
 strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of land, but 
 the heavy fog prevented. The next morning 
 the fog rolled away from the sea, and he saw 
 before him the coast of Spitzbergen. He could 
 not see it very plainly, howe\er, or approach it 
 very closely, for " the land was covered with 
 fog : the ice lying very thick all along the shore 
 for fifteen or sixteen leagues." He coasted along 
 the shore through the day, catching occasional 
 glimpses of the land, and was able to make an 
 observation, by which he found himself to be in 
 the 78th degree of latitude. He was not certain, 
 but supposed that he was now near a point on 
 the western coast of Spitzbergen known by the 
 name of Vogel Hooke or Vogelhoek. He was 
 again surprised to find this region mild and 
 temperate compared with that about Young's 
 Cape. 
 
28 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 His effort was now to make his passage by 
 the north side of the island, and he kept his course, 
 as well as he could, almost due north. I say as 
 w^ell as he could, for he met here, perhaps, great- 
 er difficulties than in any former part of the voy- 
 age. He was surrounded by ice, fearing almost 
 every moment that his ship would be dashed to 
 pieces against the floating masses — head winds 
 prevailed against him, forcing him almost daily 
 to change his course, and storms were his con- 
 stant companions for more than a fortnight. Still, 
 in spite of all these trials, he worked his course 
 north v/ard, noticing, in his way, large num- 
 bers of morses, seals, and sometimes bears, until 
 he began to fear that the ice would not allow 
 him to make the passage on this side of the isl- 
 and. It would seem, that some of his men found 
 time to attack the bears, for several of them, he 
 tells us, were made sick by eating bears' flesh. 
 During this fortnight, he observed one thing 
 which was curious : the sea was at times blue, 
 green, and black, and the green sea he found to 
 be freest from ice, while the blue sea was almost 
 always crowded with it. 
 
 On the morning of the 14th, it was calm with 
 fog. Yet they were able to see a bay open 
 toward the west, enclosed by high and ragged 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 29 
 
 land. The northerly point of this land, which 
 was very high and bleak, was first seen by Wil- 
 liam Collins, the boatswain, and they instantly 
 gave it the name of Collins Cape, On the south 
 side of the bay, they discovered three or four 
 small islands or rocks. Great numbers of whales 
 were sporting in the bay, and while one of the 
 men was amusing himself with a hook and hne 
 overboard to try for fish, one of these whales 
 passed under the keel of the ship, and " made 
 her held." They were greatly alarmed, and very 
 grateful when the danger was over. " By God's 
 mercy," (says Hudson,) " we had no harm but 
 the loss of the hook and three parts of the line." 
 They found the weather hot, though the swamps 
 and valleys near the shore were filled with snow. 
 John Colman, the mate, and Collins, the boat- 
 swain, went ashore here with two others, and 
 found a pair of morse's teeth in the jaw, quanti- 
 ties of whale's bones, and some dozen or more 
 deer's horns. They saw too, the tracks of ani- 
 mals on the shore. The weather w^as so hot 
 that they were glad to find two or three streams 
 of fresh water rolling into the bay, where they 
 quenched their thirst. The men returned, and 
 the wind being in their favor, they again steered 
 north-east. 
 
 3* 
 
30 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 Or. the 16lh the weather was clear, the wind 
 north; and Hudson found himself surrounded by 
 ice in every direction. He could see the land 
 and ice extending north-east far into the 82d 
 degree of latitude, and seemingly much farther, 
 and he was now convinced that he could not 
 make his way through the ice on the north side 
 of the island. The wind, too, was fair just at 
 the moment, and he determined now to sail 
 round the southern point of the island, and press 
 his course north-east, hoping to make the passage 
 on that side. He continued his course south for 
 more than a week, coasting along the shores of 
 Spitzbergen, when, on the 25th, he saw the land 
 bearing north. But then he was discouraged 
 from turning the point, and moving toward the 
 north-east — for by this time he had observed the 
 general prevalence of the winds on the coast, 
 and found that it would be impossible. This 
 plan, therefore, he was forced to abandon, and 
 now he resolved once more " to prove his for- 
 tunes" by the west. His aim was nothing less 
 than to pass round the north of Greenland, (sup- 
 posing it to be an island,) and return by Davis' 
 Straits to England. With a heart full of hope, 
 he now shaped his course westward. 
 
 Tw^o days after this, while nearly becalmed, 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 31 
 
 they were suddenly startled by a tremendous 
 noise, made by the ice and the sea. Immense 
 mountains of floating ice surrounded them, and 
 the waves, rolling high, were heaving the ship 
 continually westward toward them. In their 
 fright, they lowered their boat, in the hope of 
 turning the ship away from the ice ; but in this 
 they failed, the waves rolling so high that the 
 boat, more than once, came near being swamped. 
 "In this extremity," (says Hudson,) " it pleased 
 God to give us a small gale, at north-west and 
 by west. We steered away south-east four 
 ieao-ues, till noon. Here we had finished oui 
 discovery, if the wind had continued that brought 
 us hither, or if it had continued calm ; but it 
 pleased God to make this north-west and by 
 west wind the means of our dehverance ; which 
 wind, we had not found common in this voyage. 
 God give us thankful hearts for so great deliver- 
 ance." 
 
 The weather cleared up at noon, and they 
 saw the ice reflected by the sky, bearing from 
 south-west to north-east. As they approached 
 still nearer to Greenland, the sky reflected the 
 ice still farther and farther, until Hudson was 
 satisfied that he could find nio passage around 
 the north of Greenland. A westerly wind spring- 
 
32 HENllY HUDSON. 
 
 ing up, therefore, he altered his course, and 
 steered south-east. He now began to think of 
 making his way back to England. The thick 
 fogs still annoyed him ; his ship stores were be- 
 ginning to fail ; the season, too, was far advanc- 
 ed, and it was well-nigh certain that he could 
 not make the passage this year. Keeping a 
 southerly course, he again passed the southern 
 coast of Spitzbergen — the land being, as he says, 
 " not ragged, as all the rest we had seen this 
 voyage" — came in sight of Cheries Island, for 
 which he was keeping a lookout, and saw the 
 land covered with cragged rocks, " like hay- 
 cocks." Still pressing south, on the 15th of 
 August, he put into w^hat he calls " the Isles of 
 Farre," (meaning, I suppose, the Faroe Islands,) 
 and on the 15th of September, he arrived at 
 Tilbury Hope on the Thames.* 
 
 Thus you will perceive, that after a hard voy- 
 age of four months and a half, Hudson returned 
 without success. Yet his employers were suffi- 
 ciently pleased, as we shall soon see, to trust 
 him with their second adventure. And though 
 he failed in the main enterprise, his voyage was 
 far from being useless. 
 
 * The journal of this voyage, made in 1607, will be found in 
 *' Pur chas his Pilgrims,^' written partly by Henry Hudson, 
 and partly by John Pleyce, one of his men. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 33 
 
 He advanced farther north than any naviga- 
 tor had been known to proceed before : his voy- 
 age opened the commerce of the whale fishery 
 to his countrymen ; and some have said that he 
 was the discoverer of Spitzbergen.* This last 
 supposition, however, is a mistake. While we 
 are anxious to give full credit to Hudson for 
 whatever he may have done, we should be un- 
 wilhng to detract from the fair fame of another 
 man. That island was first discovered in the 
 year 1596, by William Barentz, a Dutch navi- 
 gator. It received from him the name of Spitz- 
 bergen, from its mountainous appearance, and 
 the quantities of ice and snow that lay around it. 
 The remarkable headland which had been seen 
 by Hudson, Barentz had called Vogelhoek, from 
 the number of birds that he saw there. After 
 this, the island was sometimes, by the Hollanders, 
 called Newland. It is strange that any one 
 should have thought Hudson the discoverer of 
 Spitzbergen, since he himself, in his journal, 
 speaks of the island as Newland, evidently know- 
 mg where it was, and also of the promontoiy 
 Vogelhoek, which I presume was laid down in 
 his charts. 
 
 * Forster's Voyages ; Yates and Moulton's History of New 
 York ; Belknap's American Biography ; Rev. Dr. Miller, in a 
 discourse before the New York Historical Society in 1S09. 
 
34 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 The most that can be said is, that Hudson 
 rediscovered Spitzbergen, and this has been 
 said ;* but it is scarcely true. Hudson's speak- 
 ing so plainly of the island, contradicts this state- 
 ment also. 
 
 All that we claim for him, therefore, in this 
 voyage is, that with unwavering fortitude, amid 
 constant trials, he pressed his way farther north 
 than any other navigator had been before, and 
 opened a new and extensive field of commerce 
 to the English people. 
 
 • Scoresby, in his account of the Arctic Regions. 
 
CHAPTER n. 
 
 Henry Hudson makes his second voyage, in 
 search of a J^orth- eastern Passage to India — 
 Reaches the north side of A'^ova Zembla, and is 
 stopped by the Ice — Hopes to make his passage 
 on the south side by the Vaygatz Straits — Find- 
 ing a large River or Sound in JVova Zembla^ is 
 induced to try that for his passage — Sails up 
 this — Resolves to return — Searches for Wil- 
 loughby^s Land — Arrives in England after an 
 absence of four months and four days. 
 
 As soon as the spring was fairly opened the 
 next year, Hudson commenced making his pre- 
 parations for a second voyage. This time he 
 was to seek his passage for the East Indies in 
 the north-east, by passing between Spitzbergen 
 and Nova Zembla. 
 
 With a crew consisting, in all,- of fifteen per 
 
36 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 sons,* (among whom again was his son John 
 Hudson,) he set sail from London on the 22d of 
 April. The wind was fair, and so continued day- 
 after day ; but as he sailed north, heavy fogs 
 again met him, so that it was the 24th of May 
 before he found himself off the coast of Norway 
 The weather now cleared up, and the cold, which 
 had been increasing for some days, became so 
 severe that several of the men were taken sick. 
 Philip Stacie, the carpenter, seems to have suf- 
 fered most. Improving this clear weather, he 
 pressed north-east as rapidly as he could. On 
 the 29th he had reached a latitude so high that 
 " the sun was on the meridian above the horizon 
 five degrees," and he was able to take an obser- 
 vation at midnight. In two days more his fine 
 weather passed away; for, on the 1st of June, 
 he had a hard north-easterly gale with snow. 
 For two days he struggled against the storm, 
 and on the morning of the 3d he saw the J\'^orth 
 Cape, about eight leagues distant, as he suppos- 
 
 * The names of these persons, as given in the Journal of this 
 voyage of 160S, were as follows: "Henry Hudson, master 
 and pilot ; Robert Juet^ mate ; Ludlow Arnall, John Cooke, 
 boatswain; Philip Stacio," carpenter ; John Barns, John 
 Braunch, cook ; John Adrey, James Strutton, Michael 
 Feirce, Thomas Hilles, Richard Tomson, Robert Raynor 
 Humfrey Gilby, aad John Hudson." 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 37 
 
 ed, and discovered several Norway fishermen in 
 sio-ht. Keeping his course north-east, on the 9th 
 of June, in the latitude of 75 degrees, he fell in 
 with ice, the first he had seen on the voyage. 
 Hoping to pass through, he stood into it, loos- 
 ening some of it, and bearing away from the 
 larger masses until he had passed into it four or 
 five leagues. Here he found the ice so thick and 
 firm ahead, that he began to fear he had pro- 
 ceeded too far, and might be fastened. This 
 forced him to return by the same way he went 
 in, fortunately suffering no damage (as he says) 
 except " a few rubs of the ship against the ice." 
 For more than a fortnight he still pressed east- 
 ward, struggling with the ice, but failed to reach 
 a higher latitude. At one time he would meet 
 large quantities of drift-wood driving by the ship, 
 then he would see large numbers of whales and 
 porpoises, and the sea seemed almost cover- 
 ed with birds floating over it. Then again he 
 would see numbers of seals lying upon the ice, 
 and hear the bears roaring. It was during this 
 fortnight, that two of his men declared they saw 
 somethino- strano'er than all this. Thomas Hilles 
 and Robert Raynor positively asserted, that 
 on the morning of the 15th they saw a mermaid 
 close by the ship's side, looking earnestly at 
 4 
 
38 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 them. A sea soon came and overturned her ; 
 but they saw her distinctly. Her body was as 
 large as a man's, her back and breast were Uke 
 a woman's, her skin very white, and she had long 
 black hair hanging down behind. As she w^ent 
 down they saw her tail, which was like the tail 
 of a porpoise, and speckled like a mackerel. 
 
 On the 25th, being still hemmed in wath ice, 
 w^hile head winds w^ere still prevailing, he found 
 that, in spite of every effort, he was drifting to- 
 ward the south. He w^as now convinced that 
 he could not proceed farther on the north side of 
 Nova Zembla, and resolved to seek his passage 
 on the south side of the island, by the straits 
 known as "the Vaygatz ; to pass by the mouth 
 of the River Oh, and to double that way the 
 North Cape of Tartaria." These straits are be- 
 tween the southernmost parts of Nova Zembla, 
 and the northern coast of Russia. He now shaped 
 his course south, and the next day, at the dis- 
 tance of four or five leagues, saw that part of 
 Nova Zembla, known by the Hollanders as 
 Swart Cliffe. Being only two miles from the 
 land, he sent six of his men ashore to take a 
 survey of the country, and fill the casks with 
 water. They found the shore covered with 
 grass 'j the land was marshy, and several streams, 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 39 
 
 made by the melting snow, were rolling through 
 it. In looking around, they saw the tracks of 
 bears, deers, and foxes -, and after picking up 
 some whales' fins and deer's horns, they returned 
 to the ship. The sea was calm as they came 
 back, and they saw two or three herds of morses 
 swimming near the ship. Hudson now sent 
 seven other men ashore to the place where he 
 thought the morses might come in; but they 
 failed in taking one of them. These men found 
 a cross standing on the shore, quantities of drift- 
 wood, and signs of fires that had been recently 
 kindled there. Gathering some moss, and such 
 flowers as grew in that cold latitude, and taking 
 two pieces of the cross, they also returned to 
 the ship. 
 
 On the 29th, they again saw large numbers 
 of morses in the water ; and in the hope of fol- 
 lowing them, and finding where they would land, 
 they hoisted sail, and got out the boat to tow 
 the ship along. The chase proved fruitless : but 
 it brought them to the mouth of a broad river or 
 sound, where they anchored near a small island. 
 The ice was running rapidly down the stream, 
 and they were forced to weigh an^.hor twice in 
 the night, and stand out to free themselves from 
 danger. In the morning he again came to his 
 
40 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 old anchorage near the island. On a small rock 
 near by, he saw forty or fifty morses lying asleep. 
 He sent all his crew after them, except his son 
 John ; but they succeeded in killing only one of 
 them, the rest plunging rapidly in the water. 
 Before they came aboard, how^ever, they landed 
 on the island, where they killed some fowls and 
 found some eggs. 
 
 The thought now struck Hudson, that instead 
 of trying his passage by the Vaygatz Straits, he 
 would attempt to make his w^ay through this 
 broad stream before him. He hoped that in 
 this way he might reach the east side of Nova 
 Zembla. Then, too, the morses invited him, for 
 he hoped by taking them to pay the expenses 
 of the voyage. " Being here," (he says,) " and 
 hoping, by the plenty of morses we saw here, to 
 defray the charge of our voyage ; and also that 
 this sound might, for some reasons, be a better 
 passage to the east of Nova Zembla than the 
 Vaygatz, if it held, according to my hope, con- 
 ceived by the likeness it gave : for whereas we 
 had a flood come from the northward, yet this 
 sound or river did run so strong, that ice with 
 the stream of this river was carried away, or any- 
 thing else against the flood : so that both in flood 
 and ebb, the stream doth hold a strong course : 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 41 
 
 and it floweth from the north three hours and 
 ebbeth nine." 
 
 He now sent the mate, with several of the men, 
 to explore the mouth of this river. The next 
 day they came back, having their boat laden 
 with drift-wood, and bringing with them a large 
 deer's horn, a lock of white hair, and great 
 quantities of fowl. They had a very good story 
 to tell. They had seen a herd of ten white deer, 
 much drift-wood lying on the shore, many good 
 bays, and one fine river on the north shore, which 
 looked like a good place for morses — though 
 they saw none there. They saw signs that the 
 morses had been in the bay. As for the particu- 
 lar river which they were to explore, they had 
 found it two or three leagues broad, and no 
 ground at twenty fathoms — the water was of the 
 color of the sea, very salt, and the stream set 
 strongly out of it. 
 
 This report w^as so encouraging that Hudson 
 soon hoisted sail, and steered up the river. In a 
 little time he passed a reef, where he found only 
 five or six fathoms' depth, and was then in thirty- 
 four fathoms water. He continued his course for 
 nine leagues, still finding the water deep, until 
 the wind coming out ahead, and the stream run- 
 ning too strongly against him, he was forced to 
 4* 
 
42 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 cast anchor. He now ris^ged up the boat with 
 a sail, and furnishing Juet the mate, and five of 
 the crew, with provisions and weapons, sent 
 them up the river to take soundings. They were 
 to continue their course, provided the water con* 
 tinned deep, until they found the stream bending 
 to the east or southward. The ship was to fol- 
 low them as soon as a favorable wind offered. 
 About the middle of the next day the men re- 
 turned very tired, bringing a very unfavorable 
 report. They had been up the river six or seven 
 leagues, sounding it all the way, until at last 
 they found only four feet of water. They knew 
 that the ship could not pass this point : so they 
 did not explore farther, but after landing, gather- 
 ing some flowers, and seeing great numbers of 
 deer, they returned to the ship. 
 
 All that remained for him now was to return. 
 Setting sail, therefore, he passed down the river 
 much disappointed, or, as he himself says in the 
 Journal, " with sorrow that our labor was in 
 vain ; for, had this sound held as it did make 
 show of, for breadth, depth, safeness of harbor, 
 and good anchor-ground, it might have yielded 
 an excellent passage to a more easterly sea." It 
 w^as here, too, that he seems to have been par- 
 ticularly pleased with the appearance of Nova 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 43 
 
 Zembla, under its arctic midsummer ; for he says, 
 " it was to a man's eye a pleasant land ; much 
 main high land, with no snow on it, looking in 
 some places green, and deer feeding thereon." 
 In the evening he sent five of his men ashore, 
 hoping again that they might find morses ; but 
 they found none, though they saw many good land- 
 ing places for them. They discovered signs of a 
 fire that had been made on shore, and returned, 
 bringing with them a hundred fowls, called 
 '' Wellocks." 
 
 It was now the 6th of July, and Hudson knew 
 it was too late to attempt his passage by the 
 Vaygatz, He therefore shaped his course west- 
 ward, hoping to visit by the way Willoughhy^s 
 Land,* that he might see if it w^as correctly laid 
 down in his chart. Still intent upon defraying, 
 if possible, the expenses of his voyage, he thought 
 if he should find this land he would discover 
 there abundance of morses, driven down by the 
 ice from Nova Zembla. But, unfortunately, he 
 did not come in sight of that land. He was yet 
 in the region of the ice, and discovered, as in the 
 last voyage, that in the green sea he was most 
 free from it, while in the blue sea he was almost 
 
 * Some have supposed that Willoughby's Land is the same 
 as Spitzbergen, but this is a mistake. 
 
44 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 sure to be troubled with it. Keeping his west- 
 erly course, in ten days he saw the promontory 
 of Wardhuys off the coast of Lapland, and in a 
 little time passed the JVorth Cape. Being now 
 off the coast of Norway, the nights had again 
 become so dark that he was forced to use a can- 
 dle in the binacle, which thing he had not before 
 found necessary since the 19th of May. 
 
 Hudson's heart still leaned toward the experi- 
 ment of sailing north of Greenland, and he would 
 willingly have moved in that direction, but the 
 season was now too far advanced ; and he thought 
 it his duty " to save victuall, wages, and tackle^ 
 and not by foolish rashness, the time being wast- 
 ed, to lay more charge upon the action than 
 necessity should compel." He kept his course, 
 therefore, for England, and arrived at Gravesend 
 on the 26th of August, having been absent, this 
 time, four months and four days.* 
 
 *The Journal of this voyage, made in 160S,w'nttec by Hen- 
 ry Hudson himself will also be found in '* Purchcu his Pil- 
 grims.'- 
 
CHAPTER HI. 
 
 Henry Hudsori's employers disappointed — He 
 now passes over to Holland, and seeks employ' 
 ment from the Dutch East India Company — 
 Leaves Amsterdam on his third voyage, in the 
 ship Half Moon, in the spri?ig of 1609 — Fails 
 in 7/iaking his passage through the Vaygatz — 
 Sails westward, reaches the coast of America — 
 Enters Pe?iobscot Bay — His intercourse with 
 the Indians — Passes Cape Cod, and sails south 
 beyond Chesapeake Bay — Turns north again, 
 — Discovers Delaware Bay ; and, passing on, 
 drops anchor within Sandy Hook — After a 
 week spe?it in exploring below, passes theJ^ar- 
 rows and anchors in JVew York Bay. 
 
 Upon Hudson's return, the company that had 
 employed him were greatly disappointed, and 
 unwilling at present to make any farther effort. 
 But Hudson's heart was still bent upon the great 
 purpose for which he had been laboring. Un- 
 willing therefore to wait, he passed over to Hol- 
 land to offer his services to the Dutch East India 
 
46 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 Company. His fame had gone there before him , 
 they all knew him as " the bold Englishman, 
 the expert pilot, and the famous navigator." 
 There was one man of this company, Balthazor 
 Moucheron, who had made large and unsuccess- 
 ful adventures in Arctic voyages, and was there- 
 fore opposed to another effort, even under Henry 
 Hudson. But the company, without overcoming 
 his objections, still met the views of Hudson ; 
 accordingly the small ship (or as some say the 
 yacht) Half Moon was soon equipped, and the 
 command intrusted to him. With a crew con- 
 sisting of twenty Englishmen and Dutchmen, or, 
 as some say, only sixteen,* among whom was 
 Robert Juet, who had served as mate in his last 
 voyage, he was now ready to brave again the 
 ice and storms of the Arctic seas. 
 
 His object was now to try his passage once 
 more by the north side of Nova Zenibla, or on 
 the south through the Vaygatz Straits. He de- 
 parted from Amsterdam on the 25th of INIarch, 
 and on the. 27th, left the Texel. In little more 
 than a month he doubled the North Cape, and 
 pressing on, was ere long upon the coast of No- 
 va Zembla. Head winds, ice, and fog here met 
 him again, and after more than a fortnight's 
 
 ♦ Lambrechtsen says, 16 men, Englishmen and Hollanders. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 47 
 
 struggle against them, he gave up tlie hope of 
 reaching India by the Vaygafz, or indeed by 
 any north-eastern route. In this time of disap- 
 pointment, he was not discouraged, but seems 
 to have had many plans. He had heard of 
 America and the vast discoveries made there ; 
 and he thought, by sailing westerly, that he 
 tOo might make some discovery which would 
 repay his employers for his failure. Moreover, 
 he had with him some maps which had been 
 given to him by his old friend. Captain John 
 Smith, on which a strait was marked south of 
 Virginia, offering a passage to the Pacific Ocean 
 or great South Sea, as it was then called — and 
 by this passage he might hope to reach the East 
 Indies. Then too, he thought of his former plan ; 
 a passage by the north-west, through Davis's 
 Straits. He now proposed to his crew, either to 
 seek a passage south through the strait laid down 
 by Smith, or to sail for the north-west. Many 
 of his men had been trained in the East India ser- 
 vice, were accustomed to sailing in warm tropical 
 climates, and chose therefore, to sail south rather 
 than meet the severities of the northern seas. 
 Now then, he steered his course westerly, soon 
 doubled the North Cape again, and by the last 
 of May, reached one of the Faroe Islands. 
 
48 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 He remained here twenty-four hours, and had 
 his casks filled with fresh water. They then 
 hoisted sail and steered south-west, hoping to 
 reach Buss Island, which had been discovered in 
 1578, by Martin Frolisher. The island was in- 
 correctly laid down in his chart, and he did not 
 find it. He next shaped his course for JYew- 
 foundland. For more than three weeks he 
 now encountered storms and constant gales of 
 wind, until at last his foremast was carried 
 away. He rigged up what sailors call a jury- 
 mast, but the gales continuing, his foresail was 
 split. Notwithstanding the tempests, he man- 
 aged to run down as far as the forty-fifth degree 
 of latitude. Here he met a heavy gale from the 
 south-east, but still kept on his course. Three 
 days after this he saw a sail standing to the east, 
 and hoping " to speak her," he turned from his 
 course and gave chase j but finding, as night came 
 on, that he could not overtake her, he again 
 turned westerly. Early in July, he found him- 
 self off the coast of JYeufoimdlaiid, and saw a 
 great fleet of Frenchmen fishing on the banks. 
 Finding himself here becalmed several davs, he 
 sent his crew to the banks to try their luck at 
 fishing. In this they proved very successful — 
 taking in one day one hundred and thirty cod- 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 49 
 
 fish. The wind again springing up, they sailed 
 westerly. On the 9th, they spoke a Frenchman 
 who lay fishing at Sable Island bank. They 
 soon cleared the banks, passed the shore of Nova 
 Scotia, and on the morning of the 12th, saw the 
 coast of North America before them. The fog 
 was now so thick that for several days they were 
 afraid to approach the land ; but on the morn- 
 ing of the 18th, the weather cleared up, and 
 they ran into a " good harbor" at the mouth of 
 a large river, in the latitude of forty-four degrees. 
 This was Penobscot Bay, on the coast of Maine.* 
 Hudson had already seen some of the inhabi- 
 tants of this new" country ; for on the morning 
 of the 19th, while they were standing off, unable 
 to enter the harbor, two boats came off to him, 
 with six of the natives of the country, who 
 " seemed very glad at his coming." He gave 
 them some trifling presents, and they ate and 
 drank with him. They told him that there were 
 gold, silver, and copper mines near by, and that 
 the French people were in the habit of trading 
 with them. One of them he found could speak 
 a little French. 
 
 * Rev. Dr, Miller, in his lecture delivered before the New 
 York Historical Society, in 1809, thinks the place of their ar- 
 rival was at or near Portland, in the State of Maine. 
 
50 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 He now made his observation of the harbor. 
 He describes it as lying north and south a mile; 
 he could see the river a great way up, and found 
 that he was in four fathoms of water. The first 
 thing to be done, was to rig up a new foremast, 
 and mend the sails. Some went to work at the 
 sails, and others went ashore to cut the mast. 
 They needed a fresh supply of water also, and 
 some went in search of that, while others amused 
 themselves in catching lobsters. In the mean time, 
 the people of the country came aboard in great 
 numbers. They were very friendly, and seem 
 not to have been at all afraid of Hudson's men, 
 while the men were afraid of them, all the time 
 saying " they could not be trusted." Two French 
 shallops came to the ship, filled with Indians 
 bringing beaver-skins and fine furs, which they 
 wished, like Indians, to trade for articles of dress, 
 knives, hatchets, kettles, trinkets, beads, and 
 other trifles. 
 
 Hudson's men could not overcome their fool- 
 ish distrust of these Indians. They were so very 
 suspicious, that every night they kept a strict 
 watch from the ship, to see where their shallops 
 were laid. At last, their mast being ready and 
 their sails mended, the day before they started, 
 they manned " the scute" with six men and four 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 51 
 
 muskets, look one of the shallops, and brought 
 it on board. This was base enough ; but they 
 now proceeded to a more disgraceful action. 
 They " manned their boat and 'scute' with twelve 
 men and muskets, and two stone pieces or mur- 
 derers, and drove the savages from their houses, 
 and took the spoil of them." It seems that the 
 poor natives had never done them the least harm ; 
 their only excuse for this cowardly meanness, 
 being that they supposed they wished to do 
 them harm — a supposition without any founda- 
 tion, proceeding only from their own idle fears 
 It is to the disgrace of Hudson, that this thing 
 was permitted ; and the only excuse that can be 
 offered for him is, that he probably had undei 
 his command a wild and ungovernable set of 
 men. It is said that they had many quarrels 
 with the natives, and perhaps, in the exaspera- 
 tion of their feelings, Hudson found it impossible 
 to control them. Even this, however, is a poor 
 excuse for him; for he was a man in the habit of 
 ^uhng his men rather than being ruled by them. 
 It is to be hoped that he did not wiUingly allow 
 this cruelty to proceed. 
 
 On the next morning (July 26) he set sail, 
 steeringr southward alono^ the coast of America. 
 In a little time he came within sight of Cape 
 
52 HENRY HUDSON 
 
 Cod. Anxious to double this headland, and 
 afraid to approach a coast of ^vhich he was ig- 
 norant, he sent five men in the boat to sound 
 along shore. They found the water " five fathoms 
 deep within bow -shot of the shore ;" went on the 
 land and discovered " goodly grapes and rose- 
 trees," which they brought on board the ship. 
 He now moved toward the shore, and anchored 
 near the north end of the headland. Here he 
 heard the voices of men calling to him from the 
 shore ; and, thinking they might be the cries of some 
 poor sailors who had been left there, he immediate- 
 ly sent a part of the crew in the boat to the land. 
 Upon landing, they found that the voices were 
 those of the Indians, who were greatly rejoiced to 
 see thera. They returned, fringing one of these 
 Indians aboard with them. After giving him some- 
 thing to eat, and making him a present of a few 
 glass buttons, Hudson sent him ashore again in 
 the boat. When he reached the land, he gave 
 every sign of joy, dancing, and leaping, and 
 throwing up his hands. These Indians were 
 great smokers : they had abundance of green 
 tobacco and pipes, " the bowls of which were 
 made of earth, and the stems of red copper." 
 
 After striving to pass west of this headland, 
 and move into the bay, which the w^ind prevent- 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 53 
 
 ed — he steered south-east, and the next day feL 
 in with the southern point of Cape Cod. He 
 knew this to be the headland which Bartholomew 
 Gosnold had discovered in the year 1602, seven 
 years "before. He passed Nantucket and Mar- 
 tha's Vineyard, and kept his course still south, 
 until the 18th of August, when he found himself 
 at the entrance of Chesapeake Bay. Here he 
 was near the mouth of " the King's River* in Vir- 
 ginia," upon which many of his countrymen 
 were settled ; and among these countrymen was 
 his early friend Captain John Smith. 
 
 Two years before this, the first Enghsh settle- 
 ment had been made in America> In the year 
 1607, two ships and a bark under the command 
 of Christopher Newport, bringing one hundred 
 and five persons, had passed up the James River. 
 Among these men W'ere John Smith, Gosnold, 
 Wingfield, and Ratcliffe, the leaders of the new 
 enterprise; and after hard sufferings and some 
 hair-breadth escapes, they had succeeded in set- 
 tling a colony at Jamestown. It would have 
 been delightful to Hudson to have passed up 
 that river, and seen his countrymen, and particu- 
 larly an old friend in the wild forests of America. 
 
 * The James River, named in honor of King James, is here 
 alluded to. 
 
 5* 
 
64 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 He would have heard from that friend many a 
 story of matchless adventure, how he had lived 
 through the treachery of the Indian King Powha- 
 tan, and been saved by the noble friendship of 
 the Princess Pocahontas. But the wind was 
 blowing a gale ; and besides this, he felt himself 
 bound to serve the main purpose of his employ- 
 ers, and consequently passed on. 
 
 He proceeded south still, until he reached the 
 thirty-fifth degree of latitude, and then changed 
 his course to the north. We are not told in the 
 Journal of this voyage, what induced Hudson to 
 change his course, but we can readily understand 
 the cause. He had gone far enough south to 
 learn that his friend Smith was mistaken about 
 his passage into the South Pacific Ocean ; and 
 his desire was now to waste no more time in this 
 fruitless search, but to make some discovery 
 which might prove profitable to his employers. 
 
 Retracing his course, he found himself occa- 
 sionally in shallow water as he passed the shores 
 of Maryland, and on the 28th, discovered the 
 great bay, since known as Delaware Bay. He 
 examined here the soundings, currents, and the 
 appearance of the land, but did not go ashore. 
 For nearly a week he now coasted northward, 
 ** passing along a low marshy coast, skirted with 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 55 
 
 broken islands," when on the 2d of September, 
 he spied the highlands of Neversink. The sight 
 pleased him greatly, for he says, " it is a very 
 good land to fall in with, and a pleasant land to 
 see." On the morning of the 3d, the weather 
 proved dark and misty, but Hudson, having pas- 
 sed Long Branch, sent his boat up to sound. 
 The men returning with a favorable report, in 
 the afternoon he brought the Half Moon within 
 Sandy Hook, and cast anchor in five fathoms of 
 water. The next morning, seeing that there 
 w^as " good anchorage and a safe harbor," he 
 passed farther up and anchored within Sandy 
 Hook Bay, at the distance of two cable lengths 
 from the shore. 
 
 Having marked great quantities of fish (" sal- 
 mon, mullet, and rays") in the water, he now 
 sent his men ashore with a net. It is said that 
 they first landed on Coney Island, (now a part 
 of Kings County in this State.) They found the 
 soil to be mostly white sand, and on the island 
 w^ere plum-trees loaded with fruit, and embower- 
 ed with grape-vines; wMe snipes and other 
 birds were floating over the shore. The fishing 
 too, proved good, for they took " ten mullets a 
 foot and a half long apiece, and a ray as great 
 as four men could haul into the ship " 
 
66 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 While the ship lay at anchor, Indians from 
 the Jersey shore came on board, and seemed 
 greatly delighted to see their new visiters. They 
 Avere dressed in deer-skins, well cured, which 
 hung loosely over their shoulders, and had 
 copper ornaments and pipes. They seemed to 
 have an abundance of food, for their land yield- 
 ed a fine harvest of maize, or Indian corn, from 
 which they made good bread ; but they had 
 come, bringing green tobacco, which they Avished 
 to exchange for beads, knives, and other trinkets. 
 
 In the course of the night a gale sprang up, 
 and the ship was driven ashore. Fortunately, 
 she was not injured, " the bottom being soft sand 
 and oozy," and when the flood tide returned in 
 the morning, she was easily got off. The boat 
 was now lowered, and the men were sent to sound 
 the bay. The shores were lined with men, wo- 
 men, and children, attracted by curiosity, and 
 the boat's men immediately went to the land, where 
 they were treated with great kindness. It was the 
 Jersey shore which they now reached, and the 
 kindness of the natives was such, that they went 
 unmolested far back into the woods of what is 
 now known as Monmouth County. In this ram- 
 ble, they weie particularly pleased with the 
 beautiful oaks of the country. The natives fol- 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 57 
 
 lowed them with their kindness, giving them pre- 
 sents of green tobacco and dried currants. They 
 observed that some of these natives were dressed 
 more richly than those seen before. These had 
 ornaments of copper around the neck, and wore 
 mantles made of fine furs or feathers. Notwith- 
 standing all the kindness of these Indians, like 
 the poor natives at Penobscot, they were still 
 " suspected, though friendly." 
 
 Hudson, in making his observations, had dis- 
 covered, as he thought, that the bay in which he 
 lay, seemed to be the entrance to a large river, 
 four leagues distant ; and the boat having re- 
 turned, he now sent five men in her to make 
 soundings in that direction. What he saw was 
 probably the strait between Long and Staten 
 Islands, now known as the Narrows. They pas- 
 sed through the Narrows, sounding as they went, 
 and discovered the hills between Staten Island 
 and Bergen Neck. They found the land as they 
 passed, covered with trees, grass, and flowers, the 
 fragrance of which was delightful; and after 
 going six miles into the bay of New York, turn- 
 ed back. On their return to the ship, when it 
 was nearly dark, they were attacked by two 
 canoes, containing twenty-six Indians. It was 
 raining hard, and their match was extinguished, 
 
58 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 SO that they could only trust to their oars to 
 make their escape. Unfortunately, one of the 
 men (John Colman, who had been with Hudson 
 in his first hard voyage) w^as killed by an arrow 
 that struck him in the neck, and two others were 
 slightly wounded. It was now very dark, and 
 they lost their way, wandering to and fro all 
 night, unable to find the ship. It is said that but 
 for the darkness, they would all have been mur- 
 dered, but this I can hardly believe. Notwith- 
 standing this attack, I do not think the Indians 
 had any wicked intentions toward these men ; 
 for it is strange, if they had, that they did not 
 pursue them, and at least take the wounded men 
 in the boat. It is probable, that in the darkness, 
 the Indians were themselves surprised and fright- 
 ened at meeting the boat ; shot at her, and moved 
 away as fast as possible. The next day the 
 boat returned, bringing the dead body of Col- 
 man. Hudson ordered it to be taken ashore and 
 buried at Sandy Hook, and in memory of the 
 poor fellow who had met so sad a fate, called 
 the place Colman^s Point. 
 
 When the men returned from this sad duty, 
 the boat was hoisted in, and they immediately 
 commenced erecting bulwarks on the sides of 
 the ship ; and when night came on, they kept a 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 59 
 
 strict lookout, expecting an attack from the na- 
 tives. But their preparations were idle. The 
 natives seem not even to have thought of attack- 
 ing them ; for the next day, some of them again 
 came on board in the most friendly manner, 
 bringing Indian corn and tobacco, to trade with 
 the sailors. They did not even seem to know 
 that any thing had happened. 
 
 The next day after, however, matters did look 
 little serious, when two large canoes came off 
 to the ship, the one filled with men armed with 
 bows and arrows, the other under the pretence 
 of trading with them. Hudson now would only 
 allow two of them to come on board ; these he 
 kept, and dressed them up in red coats. All the 
 rest returned to the shore, when presently an- 
 other canoe approached, bringing only two men. 
 He thought now it was best to take every pre- 
 caution ; so he took one of these men, intendino-, 
 
 ' to" 
 
 probably, to keep him with the others as hostages 
 for the good behavior of their countrymen. He 
 had scarcely taken this last one, however, when 
 he jumped up, leaped overboard, and swam to 
 the shore. Hudson now weighed anchor, and 
 moved oif into the channel of the Narrows for 
 the night. In the morning, he went over " to- 
 wards the east sand-bank, found it shallow, and 
 
60 HEXRY HUDSON. 
 
 again anchored." The day after, (it being the 
 11th of September,) having spent a week in 
 exploring south of the Narrows, he passed 
 through them into the Bay of New York, and 
 finding it " an excellent harbor for all winds," 
 once more cast anchor. Here he remained until 
 the next day: the people of the countiy (as he 
 says) again coming to see him, " making great 
 show of love, giving tobacco and Indian wheat, 
 but we could not trust them." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Indian tradition of the first landing of white 
 men in the State of Xew York, as given by the 
 Indians themselves, to the Rev. Mr. Heckewel- 
 der, a Moravian Missionary among the Indians 
 of Pennsylvania. 
 
 It was the 12th of September, and Hudson 
 was ready to move up the great river which 
 opened before him. Before we follow him in his 
 course, however, there is an Indian tradition as 
 regards " his first landing," which I wish to lay 
 before you. Some say his first landing was upon 
 Coney Island, others at Sandy Hook, others on 
 the Jersey shore, while some declare it was on 
 Manhattan Island, and others again say at Alba- 
 ny. It is impossible perhaps, to say where it 
 was, and as far as the story is concerned it mat- 
 ters but little, for the tradition is the same, let the 
 landing have been where it may. 
 
 This tradition is well authenticated, having 
 6 
 
62 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 been originally given by the Indians themselves 
 to tne Rev. John Heckewelder, for many years a 
 Moravian missionary to the Indians in Pennsyl- 
 vania. It runs as follows : — 
 
 " A long time ago, when there was no such 
 thing known to the Indians as people with a 
 white skin, some Indians who had been out a 
 fishing, and where the sea widens, espied at a 
 great distance, something remarkably large, swim- 
 ming or floating on the water, and such as they 
 had never seen before. They immediately re- 
 turning to the shore, told their countrymen of 
 what they had seen, and pressed them to go out 
 with them, and discern what it might be. These 
 together hurried out, and saw to their great sur- 
 prise the phenomenon, but could not agree what 
 it might be, some concluding it to be an uncom- 
 monly large fish or other animal, while others 
 were of opinion it must be some very large 
 house. It was at length agreed among them, 
 that as this phenomenon moved toward the land, 
 whether it w^as an animal or not, it would be 
 well to inform all the Indians of w^hat they had 
 seen, and put them on their guard. Accordingly 
 they sent runners to carry the news to their scat- 
 tered chiefs, that they might send off in every 
 direction for the warriors to come in. These 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 63 
 
 now came in numbers, and seeing the strange 
 appearance, and that it was actually moving 
 forward, concluded that it was a large canoe 
 or house, in which the Great Manitto* himself 
 was, and that he probably was coming to visit 
 them. By this time the chiefs of the different 
 tribes were assembled on York Island, and were 
 counselling as to the manner in which they 
 should receive the Manitto on his arrival. They 
 now provided plenty of meat for a sacrifice ; the 
 women were required to prepare the best of 
 victuals j their idols or images were examined 
 and put in order ; and a grand dance was sup- 
 posed not only to be an agreeable entertainment 
 for the Manitto, but might, with the addition of 
 a sacrifice, contribute toward appeasing him in 
 case he was angry. The conjurers were also 
 set to work to determine what the meaning of 
 this phenomenon was, and what the result would 
 be. To these, and to the chiefs and wise men of 
 the nation, men, women, and children were look- 
 ing up for advice and protection. Being at a 
 loss what to do, between hope and fear, and in 
 confusion, a dance commenced. In the mean 
 time, fresh runners arrived, declaring it to be a 
 
 • Their name for the Supreme Being. 
 
64 HE>fRY HTJDSON 
 
 great house of various colors that was coming, 
 and filled with living creatures. It now appeared 
 certain that it was their Manitto coming, bringing 
 probably some new kind of game. But other 
 runners now came in, declaring that it was a 
 house of various colors and filled with people, 
 but that the people were of a different color from 
 themselves ; that they were also dressed in a dif- 
 ferent manner from them, and that one in partic- 
 ular appeared altogether red. This they thought 
 must be the Manitto himself They were now 
 lost in admiration. Presently they were hailed 
 from the vessel, but in a language they could 
 not understand, and were able to answer only by 
 a yell. Many were now for running into the 
 woods, while others pressed them to stay, in or- 
 der not to offend their visiters, who could find 
 them out and might easily destroy them. The 
 house (or large canoe) stopped, and a smaller ca- 
 noe now came ashore, bringing the red man and 
 some others in it. Some stayed by this canoe to 
 guard it. The chiefs and wise men formed a 
 circle, into which the red clothed man and two 
 others approached. He saluted them with a 
 fi-iendly countenance, and they returned the sa- 
 lute after their manner. They were amazed at 
 the color of their skin and their dress, particu- 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 65 
 
 larly at the red man, whose clothes gUttered* 
 with something they could not account for. 
 He must be the great Manitto, they thought, but 
 then why should he have a white skin ? A large 
 elegant Hockhackf was brought forward by 
 one of the Manitto^s servants, and something 
 poured from it into a small cup or glass, and 
 handed to the Manitto. He drank it, had the 
 cup refilled, and had it handed to the chief next 
 to him for him to drink. The chief took it, 
 smelt it, and passed it to the next, who did the 
 same. The cup passed in this way round the 
 circle, untasted, and was about to be returned to 
 the red clothed man, when one of their number, 
 a spirited man and a great warrior, jumped up, 
 and harangued the multitude on the impropriety 
 of returning the cup unemptied. ' It was handed 
 to them,' he said, ' by the Manitto to drink out 
 of as he had done ; that to follow his example 
 would please him, but to return what he had 
 given them might provoke him and cause him 
 to destroy them. And that since he believed it to 
 be for the good of the nation that the contents 
 offered them should be drunk, if no one else was 
 willing to drink, he would try it, let the conse- 
 
 * This was probably the lace and buttons, 
 f Meaning gourd, or bottle. 
 
 6* 
 
6b HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 quence be what it would, for it was better fot 
 one man to die, than that a whole nation should 
 be destroyed. He then took the glass, smelt it, 
 addressed them, again, and bidding them all fare- 
 well, drank it. All eyes were now fixed upon 
 him, to see what effect this w^ould have upon him. 
 He soon began to stagger, and the w^omen cried, 
 supposing that he had fits. Presently he rolled 
 on the ground, and they all began to bemoan 
 him, supposing him to be dying. Then he fell 
 asleep, and they thought now that he was dead, 
 but presently they saw that he was still breath- 
 ing. In a little time he awoke, jumped up, and 
 declared that he never felt himself before so hap- 
 py, as after he had drunk the cup. He asked 
 for more, which was given to him, and the whole 
 assembly soon joined him, and all became intox- 
 icated.' 
 
 " ^Yhile the intoxication lasted, the white men 
 kept themselves in their vessel, and when it was 
 over, the man with the red clothes again return- 
 ed to them, bringing them presents of beads, 
 axes, hoes, and stockings. They soon now be- 
 came familiar, and talked by making signs. The 
 whites made them understand that they should 
 now return home, but the next year they should 
 visit them again with presents, and stay with 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 67 
 
 them a while. But as they could not live witlj- 
 out eating, they should then want a little land 
 to sow seeds, in order to raise herbs to put into 
 their broth. Accordingly a vessel arrived the 
 next season,* when they were much rejoiced to 
 see each other — but the white men laughed 
 at them when they saw the axes and hoes hang- 
 ing to their breasts as ornaments, and the stock- 
 ings used for tobacco pouches. The whites now 
 put handles or helves in the former, and cut down 
 trees and dug the ground before their eyes, and 
 showed them the use of the stockings. Then all 
 the Indians laughed, to think that they had been 
 ignorant of the use of these things so long, and 
 had carried these heavy articles hung around 
 their necks. They took every white man they 
 saw for a Manitto, yet inferior to the Supreme 
 Manitto ; to wit, to the one who wore the shin- 
 ing red clothes. They now became more famil- 
 iar, and the whites now reminded them that they 
 w^anted some land ; and asked if they might have 
 as much land as the hide of a bullock spread 
 before them would cover (or encompass.) Their 
 request was readily granted. The white men 
 
 * It will be remembered that another ship was sent out 
 by the Dutch the next year, after the discovery of Henry 
 Hudson. 
 
6e HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 tlien took a knife, and beginning at one place on 
 the hide, cut it up into a rope not thicker than 
 the finger of a Uttle chikl, so that by the time 
 this hide was cut up, there was a great heap. 
 They then took the rope and drew it gently along 
 (to keep it from breaking) in a circular form, 
 and took in a large piece of ground. The In- 
 dians were surprised at the superior wit of the 
 whites, but did not wish to contend with them 
 about a little land, as they had enough. They 
 lived contentedly together for a long time : the 
 w^iites from time to time asking for more land, 
 W'hich was readily granted to them. And thus 
 they gradually went higher and higher up the 
 Mahicannituck River* until they began to be- 
 lieve they would soon w^ant all their country, 
 which proved at last to bethe case."! 
 
 This tradition is remarkably confirmed by a 
 Dutch historian,! who wrote his history only 
 forty-three years after the discovery of Henry 
 Hudson. He says, " that the Indians or natives 
 
 * One of the Indian names for the Hudson. 
 
 j- This tradition will be found in Yates and Moulton's His- 
 tory of New York— in the first volume of Hist, and Lit. Trans- 
 actions of the American Philosophical Society— and again in 
 the New York Historical Collection, vol.i., New Series. 
 
 t Adrian Van der Donck, in his description of the New 
 N^etherlands. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 69 
 
 of the land, many of whom are still living, aiid 
 with whom I have conversed, declare freely that 
 before the arrival of the Lowland ship, the Half 
 Moon, in tie year 1609, they, the natives, did 
 not know that there were any other people in 
 the world, than those who were like themselves, 
 much less, any people who differed so much in 
 appearance from them as we did. When some 
 oif them first saw our ship approaching at a dis- 
 tance, they did not know what to think about 
 her, but stood in deep and solemn amazement, 
 wondering whether it were a ghost or apparition, 
 cominor down from heaven, or from hell. Others 
 of them supposed her to be a strange fish or sea 
 monster. When they discovered men on board, 
 they supposed them to be more like devils than 
 human beings. Thus they differed about the 
 ship and men. A strange report was spread 
 about the country concerning the ship and visit, 
 which created great astonishment and surprise 
 among the Indians." 
 
 There is another story told to the same pur- 
 pose in a history of these times written only 
 forty-one years after Hudson's discovery. " In 
 1609, (as the story reads,) the privileged East 
 India Company, by the ship the Half Moon, the 
 Captain whereof was Henxick Hutson, discover- 
 
70 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 ed first the country which our people call New 
 Netherlands : insomuch that even now inhabi- 
 tants of the country remember it, and witness, 
 that when the Dutch ships came hither first and 
 were seen by them, they did not know whether 
 they came from heaven or were devils. Others 
 thought them to be sea monsters or fishes.* They 
 knew before nothing of other sort of men : a 
 strange tale thereof run through their country 
 now."t 
 
 It is said that the tribe of Delaware Indians, 
 even to this day, call New York Mannahatta- 
 nink, meaning thereby, the Island or place of 
 general intoxication. % 
 
 • It is remarked by Yates and Moulton in their history, that 
 the same fright seized the minds of the Indians bordering ou 
 Detroit river, at the time the Lake Erie steamboat " Walk-in 
 the- Water" made her first appearance in that river, advancing 
 against wind and tide, and sending forth volumes of flame 
 and smoke. 
 
 t MS. in the New York Historical Society, cited in Yates 
 and Moulton's History of New York, Part I. page 257. 
 
 X " The Mahicanni or Mohicans call it by the same name 
 as the Delawares, but think the name was given in consequence 
 of a kind of wood which grew there, of which the Indians 
 used to make their bows and arrows. 
 
 " The name the Monseys have for New York is Laapha- 
 wachking, meaning the place of stringing wampum heads. 
 They say this name was given in consequence of the distribu- 
 tion of beads among them by Europeans, and that after the 
 European vessel returned, wherever one looked, the Indians 
 were seen stringing the beads and wampum that the whites 
 gave them." — Yates and Moulton. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Hudson explores the river since called by Ms 
 name — Escape of the two Indians — Strange 
 experiment of Hudson to learn the treachery 
 of the natives — The Half Moon reaches as far as 
 the present site (f Albany — The boat ascends 
 to Waterford — Hudson returns down the river 
 — Battle with the natives at the head of Man- 
 hattan Island — Sails from the bay^ and 
 reaches England^ after an absence of seven 
 months from Europe. 
 
 We left Hudson in his little ship the Half 
 Moon, resting quietly upon the waters of New 
 York Bay, and we will now trace him in his 
 course up the beautiful stream which since bears 
 his name. What must have been the feelings of 
 the great navigator as he looked upon the waters 
 of that stream as they came rolling to the sea ! It 
 was certain that he had discovered a new and 
 
72 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 unknown region which might in some degree 
 repay his employers ; and then, who could 
 tell but that the river before him, coming far 
 from the north, might prove the long desired 
 passage to the gems and spices of the East 
 Indies. 
 
 On the morning of the 12th, while he was 
 still at his anchorage, twenty-eight canoes, filled 
 with men, women, and children, came off to see 
 him, bringing oysters and clams to trade for tri- 
 fles. These Indians had " great tobacco pipes of 
 yellow copper, and pots of earth to dress their 
 meat in." Hudson's men seem, as usual, to have 
 been suspicious of them, and though they traded 
 with them, none of them were allowed to come 
 on board. 
 
 About noon, with a heart full of hope, he 
 weighed anchor, and moved into the river. The 
 wind was not fair ; so that he made only two 
 leagues, and again anchored for the night. The 
 place off which he lay is supposed to have been 
 what is now JManhattanville. The next day, the 
 wind being ahead, he managed, by the help of 
 the flood tide, to pass up only eleven miles high- 
 er. This brought him to what is now known as 
 Yonkers, and again he cast anchor. In the course 
 of this day, he was again visited by Indians, 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 73 
 
 bringing provisions, and they seemed very friend- 
 ly 'j but: his crew suspected these also, and none 
 of them came on board the ship. 
 
 The day following the weather was fair, and 
 a fine breeze springing up from the south-east, 
 he passed up through Tappan and Haverstraw 
 bays, " the river" (as the journal says) " being 
 a mile wide, and anchored at night about thir- 
 ty-six miles higher, in a region where the land 
 was very high and mountainous." He was now 
 evidently in the neighborhood of " the High- 
 lands," and his anchorage was probably near 
 West Point 
 
 Hudson and his men seem to have been struck 
 with the wild and beautiful appearance of the 
 country : and strange must have been his feel- 
 ings, when in his little " yacht," moored beneath 
 the Highlands, the shadows of night fell over 
 him. He had braved the tempests of the north, 
 and seen the monsters of the ocean, but all now 
 was a new world around him. A wild and beau- 
 tiful w^ilderness hung over him. Perhaps in 
 the distance he might see the camp fires of 
 stragghng Indians: then he might hear the 
 screechings of the owls, and the scream of pan- 
 thers in the wilderness above him, or perhaps 
 7 
 
74 HENRY HUDSON 
 
 be startled by the strange and tremendous roar 
 of the " Naked Bear" of the Indians.* 
 
 *" Yagesho, or Naked Bear /^ — In a note to Yates and Moul- 
 ton's History of New York, there is a singular Indian tradition 
 of a remarkable aninial that lived in the northern parts of 
 New York about two centuries ago. The note cites the man- 
 uscript of Mr. Heckewelder for the truth of it. The story, as 
 given m the note, is the following : — 
 
 " The Yagesho was an animal much superior to the largest 
 hear, remarkably long bodied, broad down by its shoulders, 
 but thin or narrow just at its hind legs, (or where the body ter- 
 minated.) It had a large head and fearful look. Its legs 
 were short and thick. Its paws (to the toes of which were 
 nails or claws, nearly as long as an Indian^s finger) spread 
 very wide. It was almost bare of hair, except the head and 
 on the hinder parts of its legs, in which places the hair 
 was very long. For this reason the Indians gave it the name of 
 ' Naked Bear: 
 
 " Several of these animals had bee« destroyed by the In- 
 dians, but the one of which the following account is given had 
 escaped them, and for years had from time to lime destroyed 
 many Indians, particularly women and children, when they 
 were out in the avoous gathering nuts, digging roots, or at 
 work in the field. Hunters, when overtaken by this animal, 
 bad no way of escaping, except when a river or lake was at 
 hand, by plunging into the stream and swimming out or d.o\vn 
 the stream to a great distance. When this was the case, and 
 the beast was not able to pursue farther, then he would setup 
 such a roaring noise, that every Indian hearing it would trem- 
 ble. The animal preyed on every beast it could lay hold of. 
 It would catch and kill the largest bears and devour them. 
 While bears were plenty, the Indians had not so much to dread 
 from him, but vk^hen this was not the case, it would run 
 abo!at the woods, searching for the track or scent of hunters, 
 and foUow them uji. The women were so afraid of going out 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 75 
 
 The next morning a mist hung over the riv- 
 er and mountains until sunrise, when it cleared 
 up with a fair wind. Just as he was weighing 
 anchor, a circumstance happened, which after- 
 ward gave him trouble. The two Indians whom 
 he held as hostages made their escape through 
 
 to work, that the men assemhled to consider on some plan for 
 killing him. At or near a lake where the water flowed two 
 ways, or has two different outlets, one on the northerly and 
 the other on the southerly end, this beast had his residence, of 
 which the Indians were well informed. A resolute party, well 
 provided with bows, arrows, and spears, made toward the lake. 
 On a high perpendicular rock they stationed themselves, 
 climbing up this rock by means of Indian ladders, and then 
 drawing these after them. After being well fixed, and having 
 taken up a number of stones, they began to imitate the voices 
 and cries of the various beasts of the wood, and even that of 
 children, in order to decoy him thither. Having spent some 
 days without success, a party took a stroll to some distance 
 from the rock. Before they had reached the rock again, this 
 beast had got the scent of them, and was in full pursuit of 
 them, yet they reached the rock before he arrived. When he 
 came to the rock he was in great anger, sprang against it with 
 his mouth wide open, grinning and seizing the rock as if he 
 would tear it to pieces. He had several times sprung nearly 
 up, During all this time, numbers of arrows and stones were 
 discharged at him, and at last he dropped down and expired. 
 His head being cut off, it was carried in triumph to their vil- 
 lage or settlement on the North River, and there set up on a 
 pole for view: and the report spreading among the neighbor- 
 ing tribes, numbers came to view the same, and to exalt the 
 Ticto/iriis for this warlike deed. The Mahicanni claim the 
 honor of this act." 
 
76 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 the porl-holes of the ship and swam to the shore, 
 and as soon as the ship was under way, they 
 were seen standing on the shore making loud and 
 angry cries, and looking at them " with scornful 
 looks." They now^ moved up the river, " passing 
 by the high mountains," until, having sailed fifty 
 miles, they came at night in sight of " other 
 mountains Avhich lie from the river side." Here 
 they found (as the journal says) " very loving 
 people and very old men," who treated them very 
 kindly. Ha\ing cast anchor here, (which w^as 
 probably near what is now Catskill Landing,) 
 Hudson sent the boat off, and the men caught 
 large quantities of fine fish. 
 
 It was here, perhaps, that the pleasant inter- 
 view happened (of which w^e read in an old his- 
 tory of the times*) between Hudson and an old 
 chief of the Indians. The story is, that he went 
 on shore in one of their canoes with an old man, 
 who was the chief of forty men and seventeen 
 women. These he saw in a large circular house 
 made of oak bark. In the house, he discovered 
 a large quantity of maize or Indian corn, and 
 beans of the last year's grow^th, and near the 
 house, for the purpose of drying, there lay enough 
 to load their ship, besides what was growing 
 
 ♦De Laet's New World. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 77 
 
 in the fields. Upon his entering the house, two 
 mats were immediately spread out to sit upon, 
 and food was brought forward in large red bowls 
 made of wood. In the mean time, two men 
 were despatched with bows and arrows in search 
 of game. Soon after, they returned with a pair 
 of pigeons; then they killed a fat dog, and 
 skinned it in great haste for their guest, with 
 shells which they had got out of the water. 
 After the feast, they supposed that Hudson would 
 remain all night with them. But upon his shew- 
 ing signs of departure, the hospitable old man 
 became very uneasy- — and his people, supposing 
 that the guest might be leaving because he was 
 afraid of them, took all their arrows, and break- 
 ing them in pieces, cast them into the fire. 
 
 The quantities of fish taken the evening before, 
 now induced Hudson (the next morning being 
 warm and fair) to send some of the men out 
 upon another fishing party. This time, however, 
 they were not so successful ; for the natives had 
 been there all night in their canoes. In the 
 mean time, the Indians flocked on board the ship, 
 bringing Indian corn, pumpkins, and tobacco. 
 The whole day was consumed in trading with 
 these friendly people, and filling the water casks 
 with fresh water. Towards night, he again set 
 7* 
 
7S HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 sail, and passing some six miles higher up, found 
 the water shoal and cast anchor. He was now 
 probably near the spot where the city bearing 
 his name has since grown up. The weather was 
 warm, and Hudson determined to take advantage 
 of the cool hours of the morning. At dawn, 
 therefore, the next day he weighed anchor, and 
 ran up the river " six leagues higher" — but find- 
 ing shoals and small islands in the middle of the 
 river, he once more stopped. As night came on, 
 the vessel drifted near the shore and grounded ; 
 but they " layed out there small anchor and 
 heaved her off again." In a little time, she was 
 aground again in the channel; but when the 
 flood-tide rose she floated ofl", and then they an- 
 chored for the night. This anchorage, it is 
 thought, was somewhere near Castleton. 
 
 The next day was fair, and he " rode still" all 
 day. In the afternoon, he went ashore with 
 " an old savage, a goveinor of the country, who 
 carried him to his house, and made him good 
 cheer."* With the flood tide, about noon on 
 the following day, he ran up " two leagues above 
 the shoals," and cast anchor ao:ain in eiffht 
 fathoms of water. The natives now^ came on 
 
 • Possibly it was here that the scene described by De Laet 
 pccurrei. 
 
HE^.^Y HUDSON. 79 
 
 board in crowds, bringing grapes, pumpkins, 
 beaver and other skins, for which the sailors 
 readily gave them beads, knives, and hatchets. 
 
 Here Hudson seems to have had some misgiv- 
 ings as to the depth of the river above him. He 
 had now been seven or eight days in reaching 
 this point, and his ship had been aground, and 
 his soundings shallow, more than once in the 
 last three days. The next day, therefore, (the 
 morning of the 20th,) he sent the mate with four 
 men in the boat to explore the river and take 
 soundings. They were gone nearly the whole 
 day, and returned with the report that "the 
 channel was very narrow 5" that two leagues 
 above, they found only two fathoms' w^ater, 
 though in some places there w^as a better depth. 
 The next morning they were about starting 
 again, to explore the depth and breadth of the 
 stream, (for the wind was fair, and Hudson was 
 anxious to move up wdth the ship,) but were 
 prevented by the great crowds of Indians that 
 came flocking on board. They seem again to 
 have been afraid of these men, and unwilling to 
 leave the ship while they were there. Finding 
 that he was not likely to make any progress on 
 that day, Hudson sent the carpenter ashore to 
 make a new foreyard for the ship, and determin- 
 
80 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 ed with his men, in the mean time, to make an 
 experiment with some of these Indians, that he 
 might learn if they were treacherous. 
 
 This experiment was a strange one ; it %va« 
 neither more nor less than intoxicating some of 
 the Indian chiefs, and thereby throwing them 
 " oif their guard." He therefore took several of 
 them down into the cabin, and gave them plenty 
 of wine and brandy, until they were all merry. 
 The poor women looked innocently on, for we 
 are told particularly of the wife of one of these 
 merry chiefs, who " sate in the cabin as modest- 
 ly as any of our countrywomen w'ould do in a 
 strange place." The men drank plentifully, and 
 presently one of them became so drunk that he 
 fell asleep. The rest w^ere now frightened, sup- 
 posing him to be poisoned, and immediately took 
 to their canoes and pushed for the shore. They 
 did not, however, forget the poor man on board ; 
 for some of them soon returned, bringing long 
 strings of beads, which they hoped the whites 
 would accept, and release their poor country- 
 man. 
 
 The poor Indian slept soundly all night, and 
 the next day, when his countrymen came to see 
 him, they were rejoiced to find him well. They 
 returned to the shore, and about three o'clock 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 81 
 
 came again, bringing beads and tobacco, which 
 they gave to Hudson. One of them made a long 
 oration, and shewed him all the country round 
 about. Anxious still farther to shew him their 
 gratitude, they now sent one of their number 
 ashore, who presenly returned with a large plat- 
 ter of venison, dressed in their own style, and 
 placed it before Hudson, that he might eat with 
 them. After this, they all " made him reverence" 
 and departed. 
 
 In the morning before all this scene took place, 
 Hudson had again started the mate with the four 
 men to sound the river. At ten o'clock at night 
 he came back in a hard shower of rain, bringing 
 a bad report once more. He had ascended the 
 river eight or nine leagues, and found only seven 
 feet water and very irregular soundings. 
 
 Disappointed in not finding this the passage to 
 the East, Hudson was cheered by the reflection 
 that he had passed up this noble stream nearly 
 one hundred and fifty miles, and discovered a 
 beautiful and fertile region, for the future enter- 
 prise of his employers. He now prepared for 
 his return.* 
 
 * How far did Hudson ascend the river ? The Rev, Dr. Mil 
 er (in his lecture before the New York Historical Society in 
 <809) thinks that the ship Half Moon reached a little above 
 .vhere the city of Hudson now stands, while the boat which 
 
8.2 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 About mid-day on the 23d, he commenced re- 
 tracing his way, and went down the river only 
 six miles, the wind being ahead. On the 24th, 
 he ran down twenty-four miles farther and 
 anchored, (it is supposed between Athens and 
 Hudson.) Here he was detained four days by 
 head winds, but the time was spent pleasantly 
 and profitably in surveying the country. Some 
 of the men went on shore gathering chestnuts, 
 and others strolled along the bank making their 
 observations. They found " good ground for 
 corn and other garden herbs, with good store of 
 goodly oaks and walnut-trees and chestnut-trees, 
 yew-trees and trees of sweet wood, in great abun- 
 dance, and great store of slate for houses and 
 other good stones." While they lay at this an- 
 chorage, they had a visit from one who consid- 
 ered himself at least an old friend. On the 
 morning of the 26lh, two canoes came up from 
 the place where they met " the loving people," 
 
 was sent to explore and take soundings, went as far as the 
 site of the city of Albany. Other writers, however, disagree 
 with him. After examining carefully the journal of this voy- 
 age, calculating the distances run, with other circumstances, 
 and especially bearing in mind that the small yacht, the Half 
 Moon, was probably not so large as many of the sloops now 
 sailing on the North River, they seem fairly to conclude that 
 the Half Moon went nearly as high as the spot where Albany 
 now stands, while tlie boat passed up as far as Waterford. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 83 
 
 (Catskill Landing,) and in one of them was the 
 old chief who had been made drunk above, and 
 given so much alarm to his countrymen. The 
 friendship of this old man must have been strong, 
 for he seems to have followed them even to 
 the Catskill mountains. He brought now anoth- 
 er old chief with him, who presented strings of 
 beads to Hudson, and " showed him all the 
 country thereabout, as though it were at his 
 command." The old man's wife was along, 
 with three other Indian women. Hudson was very 
 kind to them, invited them all to dine with him, 
 after dinner gave them presents, and they de- 
 parted begging that he would visit them as 
 he passed by, for the place where they lived 
 was only two leagues off. 
 
 The wind being north on the morning of the 
 27th, they set sail and moved onward. As they 
 passed the old man's home, (Catskill Landing,) 
 he came off again, hoping they would cast anchor, 
 and go ashore and eat with him. The wind w^as 
 too fair and inviting for them to listen to his in- 
 vitation, and he left them, " being very sorrowful 
 for their departure." Toward night they reach- 
 ed the neighborhood of what is known as Red 
 Hook Landing, and there had fine fishing. For 
 the two next, days his progress was very slow, 
 
84 HENKY HUI»SON. 
 
 for on the morning of the 30th, we are told, his 
 ship was anchored off " the northernmost of the 
 mountains," meaning, I suppose, the head of the 
 highlands. Here again, the natives came on board 
 in a friendly manner. Detained for a day by head 
 winds, he observed the country closely. The 
 description of the land near them is very minute, 
 and the town of Newburgh has arisen, perhaps, 
 upon the very spot of which the journal speaks. 
 '^ This" (says the journal) " is a very pleasant 
 place to build a town on. The road is very near, 
 and very good for all winds, save an east-north- 
 east wind." Here, too, they were struck with 
 the strange appearance of some of the mountains. 
 " The mountains look as if some metal or min- 
 eral were in them. For the trees that grow on 
 them were all blasted, and some of them barren, 
 with few or no trees on them. The people brought 
 a stone aboard like to emery, (a stone used by 
 glaziers to cut glass ;) it would cut iron or Steele, 
 yet being bruised small and water put to it, it 
 made a color like black lead, glistering. It is 
 also good for painters' colors." On the 1st of 
 October, with a fair wind he sailed throufjh the 
 highlands, and reached as far as the neighbor- 
 hood of Stony Point, when being becalmed he 
 cast anchor. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 85 
 
 No sooner had they anchored, than the natives 
 were crowding aboard, astonished at, and ad- 
 miring everything they saw. They came trading 
 with skins, but these could not procure all that 
 they desired. One poor fellow, therefore, was 
 prompted to steal. He swept his canoe lightly 
 under the stern, crawled up the rudder into the 
 cabin window, and stole a pillow with some 
 articles of clothing. The mate saw him as he 
 moved off with his canoe, shot at him and killed 
 him. The rest now fled in terror, some taking 
 to their canoes, and some plunging into the 
 stream. The ship's boat was manned at once, 
 and sent to secure the stolen articles. These were 
 easily obtained ; but as the boat came back, one 
 of the Indians who w^as swunming in the water 
 took hold of her, endeavoring to overturn her. 
 The cook now drew a sword, and with one 
 blow cut off his hand. The poor creature sank 
 to the bottom — never to rise again. They now 
 returned to the ship, got under way immediate- 
 ly, and passing down six miles farther, anchored, 
 near dark, off the mouth of Croton river, near 
 the entrance into Tappan Sea. 
 
 The next day, with a fair wind, they sailed 
 twenty-one miles, which must have brought 
 them somewhere near the head of Manhattan 
 8 
 
86 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 Island. Here they soon found themselves in 
 trouble. The two Indians who had escaped from 
 the ship on their way up, angry and indignant 
 at their captivity, had roused a number of their 
 countrymen along the shores of the river, and 
 they were now assembled near this point to 
 attack Hudson on his return. A canoe ap- 
 peared, in which was one of those who had 
 escaped, and many others armed with bow^s and 
 arrows. Hudson suspected something from their 
 appearance, and none of them were allowed to 
 come on board. Presently, two canoes filled 
 with armed men dropped under the stern, and 
 the attack was commenced with their bows and 
 arrows — six muskets were fired from the ship, 
 and three Indians fell dead. The Indians on the 
 land, marking what was done, were no\v exas- 
 perated the more : they moved dow^n to the 
 shore in a solid body, (" about one hundred of 
 them,") and made ready W'ith their bows as the 
 ship passed slowly on. A cannon was now fired 
 from the ship upon them, and two more Indians 
 fell. The rest fled for the woods, with the excep- 
 tion of nine or ten desperate men, w^ho were 
 resolved upon revenge. These jumped into a 
 canoe, and advanced to meet the ship. The 
 cannon w^as again "discharged, the canoe " shot 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 87 
 
 through," and another naan killed — at the same 
 time the men fired again with their muskets and 
 killed three or four men. Thus the fight ended with 
 the loss of nine Indians. The ship now moved 
 on her way, and at the distance of " two leagues" 
 dropped anchor under the shores of what is now 
 known as Hoboken. The next day was stormy ; 
 but the morning of the 4th dawned upon them 
 with a fair wind. Hudson again weighed an- 
 chor, passed through the bay, and with all sails 
 set, put out to sea once more.* 
 
 It is said, that Hudson's crew had more than 
 once been dissatisfied at the length of this voy- 
 age, and at one time even threatened an open 
 mutiny. He thought it best, therefore, to learn 
 of them now what they desired to do ; whether 
 to return to Holland, or steer north again. One 
 man (the mate) was in favor of wintering in 
 Newfoundland, and seeking a passage to the 
 East by Davis' Straits. But Hudson, perceiving 
 the mutinous spirit of the men, opposed this, giv- 
 ing as his reason, the privations and sorrows of 
 a northern winter in a strange land. He kept 
 his course, therefore, homeward, and on the 7th 
 
 • The author has followed Hudson very minutely in his 
 voyage on the River, because he supposed this part of his 
 career had more than an ordinary interest for his young coua 
 trymen and especially those of the State of New York. 
 
»» HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 of November, after an absence of little more 
 than seven months from Amsterdam, he arrived 
 safely at Dartmouth in England. The crew, 
 you will remember, was composed partly of 
 English, partly of Dutch sailors; and .when off 
 the coast of England, the English (it is said) 
 mutinied, and forced him to put into an English 
 harbor.* 
 
 The Dutch historians declare that Hudsor^ 
 was not allowed to go over to Holland, the 
 English king being jealous of their bold mari- 
 time enterprises. Be this as it may, certain it is, 
 that he remembered his duty to his employers. 
 He sent them at once the journal and chart of 
 his discoveries, pointing them with pride to what 
 he called " the Great River of the Mountains, ^^f 
 and the next year the Dutch were reaping the 
 fruits of his arduous enterprise. 
 
 The journal of this voyage J would seem to 
 cast two stains upon the fair character of Henry 
 Hudson : first, that of cruelty toward the Indians, 
 
 * Lambrechtsen. 
 
 t The Indian names for the river were Cahohatatea, 
 Mahackaneghtue, and sometimes Shatemuck. It was early 
 called by the Dutch the North River, to distinguish it from 
 the Delaware or South River. 
 
 X The journal of this voyage in 1609, written by Robert 
 Juet, will be found in Purchas his Pilgrims. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 89 
 
 and secondly, that of want of principle in caus- 
 ino; the oeneral intoxication on the river. 
 
 As regards the first, it should be borne in mind 
 that Hudson had under his command a mutinous 
 body of men, and he may have found it impossi- 
 ble to control their refractory and ungovernable 
 tempers. He seems not even to have thought of 
 revenging the death of poor Colman, at Sandy 
 Hook : the mate was the man who shot the poor 
 Indian for the comparatively small crime of 
 stealing the pillow and clothing, and the death 
 of the nine Indians killed at the head of Man- 
 hattan Island, may be said to have been caused 
 in a war of self-defence. 
 
 In reference to the second, it can only be ac- 
 counted for, by supposing that Hudson was, like 
 his men, suspicious and alarmed, and therefore 
 determined to learn the honesty or treachery 
 of the Indians by any means whatsoever. 
 8* 
 
CHAPTER \1. 
 
 Hudson slarts on his fourth voyage^ having 
 command of the ship Discovery, in tht service 
 once more of the London Company — His aim 
 is to find a JS^orth-West Passage to India — 
 Reaches Iceland, and witnesses an eruption of 
 Mount Hecia — Disturbance among his crew — 
 Steers westward, encountering great qua?itities 
 of ice — Discovers and explores Hudson^ s Bay ^ 
 and resolves to winter there. 
 
 It is said that Hudson made new proposals for 
 a farther voyage to the Dutch East India Com- 
 pany, and that these proposals were declined.* 
 His plan was to set sail (with a crew of twenty- 
 men) from Dartmouth, on the first of JNIarch, 
 " spend the month of April and half of ]\Iay in 
 killin^r whales and other creatures near the Isl- 
 and of Panar : after that, sail to the north-west 
 and stay there till the middle of September, and 
 at last return to Holland by the north-east of 
 Scotland." 
 
 » Forster's Northern Voyages. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 91 
 
 Whether this story be true or false, certain it 
 IS that he was not long seeking employment. 
 Another voyage had given him a greater name, 
 and the story of his discoveries roused once more 
 the spirit of the London Company. His old 
 employers (who had sent him out in 1607 and 
 '8) now called him again into their own service. 
 They determined to make an effort for a north- 
 west passage by examining the inlets of the 
 American continent — and more especially Davis' 
 Straits, through which it was supposed a channel 
 might be found into the " Great South Sea." 
 Early in the spring of 1610, therefore, the ship 
 Discovery, of fifty-five tons, was equipped, manned 
 with twenty-three men, and the command given 
 to Henry Hudson. 
 
 One of these twenty-three w^as Robert Juet, 
 who had sailed with Hudson before, another, his 
 son John Hudson, and another, Henry Green, 
 whose history I will briefly relate to you, as he 
 is to act a conspicuous part in this voyage. 
 
 Henry Green was a young Englishman, born 
 of respectable parents, and had respectable con- 
 nexions — but by his extravagant and wicked 
 habits he had forced them to cast him off, and 
 was now almost a beggar. In this condition, 
 Hudson fell in with him j and having pity for his 
 
92 HEXRY HUnsON. 
 
 youth, and a desire to reclaim him from his worth- 
 less ways, he clothed and fed him, hoping to gain 
 the young man's love and gratitude. The thought 
 now struck him that he would take Green out 
 on this voyage. His name was not entered as 
 one of the crew : he was only the companion 
 of the master. Yet to rouse his ambition and 
 prompt him to that which was good, Hudson 
 promised him wages : and to awaken his pride 
 the more, encouraged him to hope that he should 
 be made upon his return one of the " Prince's 
 Guards." Through Hudson's persuasion, a friend 
 went to the mother of Green, and asked for enough 
 money to purchase some clothes for the voyage. 
 Yet she knew the madness and profligacy of her son 
 so well, that she hesitated long before she would 
 advance even five pounds, and then it was bestow- 
 ed on the express condition that it should not be 
 given to the young man, but expended for him. 
 On the 17th of April, 1610, the Discovery 
 dropped down the Thames. It seems that the 
 London Company had insisted upon placing 
 aboard an experienced seaman by the name of 
 Coleburne to make this voyage with Hudson. 
 Whether he supposed that this cast a reflection 
 upon his own skill, or from some other cause, 
 Hudson was displeased with it ; and ere the ship 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 93 
 
 left the river, he put this man aboard another 
 vessel bound up to London and sent him back. 
 It is strange that we do not know his motives for 
 this, since he sent by the man a letter to his em- 
 ployers containing the reasons for his conduct. 
 
 He now kept on his voyage. On the 6th of 
 May, he passed the north of Scotland and the 
 Orkneys, which he says he found to be " not sc 
 northerly as is commonly set down." On the 
 8th, he saw the Faroe Islands, and on the lllh 
 was upon the eastern shores of Iceland. Coast- 
 ing along its southern shore, he beheld in the dis- 
 tance Mount Hecla casting forth its flames of fire : 
 and after strugghng for more than a fortnight 
 against head winds and icebergs, at length, on the 
 30th, made a harbor in the western part of the 
 island. The natives of this island were poor 
 and miserable, but they treated him very kindly. 
 He found upon going ashore a hot spring, (Iceland 
 abounds in these springs,) so hot that " it w^ould 
 scald a fowl" — yet we are told the men bathed 
 in the water freely. Here Hudson began to discov- 
 er that he unfortunately had about him some dis- 
 satisfied men. It was rumored that Juet the mate 
 had been speaking lightly of the enterprise, dis- 
 couraging the men, and trying to destroy their 
 confidence in Hudson, calling up their fears by 
 
94 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 telling tliem of the hazards of the voyage : that 
 he had even urged two of the men " to keep their 
 muskets cha-rged and swords ready in their cabins, 
 for there w^ould be blood shed before the voyage 
 ended," and had talked boldly about turning the 
 head of the ship homew^ard. While the ship lay 
 here at anchor, a circumstance occurred, which 
 gave Juet the chance of making new mischief. 
 The surgeon and Henry Green got into a quarrel, 
 and Juet took part in it. The w^hole story is told 
 by Habakkuk Pricket, one of the sailors and an 
 eye-watness, in the following w^ords : " At Ice- 
 land, the surgeon and he (Henry Green) fell out 
 m Dutch, and he beat hun ashore in English, 
 which set all the company in a rage, so that w^e 
 had much ado to get the surgeon aboard. I 
 told the master of it, but he bade me let it alone : 
 for, said he, the surgeon had a tongue that would 
 wrong the best friend he had. But Robert Juet, 
 the master's mate, would needs burn his finger in 
 the embers, and told the carpenter a long tale 
 when he was drunk, that our master had brought 
 in Green to crack his credit that should displease 
 him : which word was carried to the master's ears, 
 who when he understood it, would have gone 
 back to Iceland, when he was forty leagues from 
 thence, to have sent home his mate Robert Juet 
 
HENRY HUDSON. . 95 
 
 in a fisherman. But being otherwise persuaded, 
 all was well. So Henry Green stood upright 
 and very inward with the master, and was a ser- 
 viceable man every way for manhood : but for 
 religion he would say, he was clean paper W'here- 
 on he might write what he would."* 
 
 On the 1st of June, Hudson sailed from Ice- 
 land. Deceived by a fog-bank, he fancied that 
 he saw land in the west, but it was not till the 
 4th, that he beheld the coast of Greenland " rising 
 very mountainous, and full of round hills like to 
 sugar loaves covered with snow." The ice 
 lay so thick along the shore, that Hudson did 
 not attempt to make a landing, but stood imme- 
 diately for the south of Greenland. In his voy- 
 age now he met great numbers of whales. Some 
 came close alongside, and one passed directly 
 under the ship, but fortunately no harm was 
 done, for w^hich they were very thankful. Doub- 
 ling the southern point of Greenland, he passed 
 in sight of Desolation Island, near which he saw 
 a " great island or mountain of ice," and kept 
 his course north-west, for the American conti- 
 nent. As he passed on, across Davis' Straits, he 
 continually met these floating ice mountains, al- 
 
 * It seems from this, that when Hudson left Iceland he was 
 igaorant of the extent of Juet's insolence. 
 
96 . HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 ways endangering and sometimes obstructing his 
 progress. One of these overturned once near 
 the ship, and taught him to keep farther from 
 them : but Avhile strugghng to avoid one, he 
 would meet another, and the farther he went they 
 seemed to hira to grow more ^' numerous and ter- 
 rifying." Still, by perseverance and skill, he 
 managed to reach a bay, (supposed to be near 
 the great strait which now bears his name,) when 
 a storm overtook him. The ice was now driving 
 so rapidly against the ship, that Hudson was 
 forced as his only chance for escape, to run her 
 into the thickest of it, and there leave her. Some 
 of the men were now dismayed and sick, or, as 
 the journal says, " some of our men fell sick : I 
 will not say it was of fear, although I saw small 
 sign of other grief." When the storm ceased they 
 went to work to extricate themselves. It was 
 a sad prospect, for as far as the eye could see, 
 the waters were covered with the huge masses 
 of floating ice. They stood now for one clear 
 sea, and then for another, but were still hemmed 
 in by the ice in every direction. After trying to 
 make their way through north, north-west, west, 
 and south-west, they at last laid the ship's course 
 to the south. Yet the more they labored, the 
 worse their situation became, until at last they 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 97 
 
 could proceed no farther. Hudson's heart now 
 sickened, for as he cast his eyes again and again 
 upon the desolate scene, there seemed no possi- 
 biUty of escape. Yet his courage failed not, al- 
 though he afterwards confessed to one of the 
 men that he feared he should never escape, but 
 was doomed to perish there in the ice. His 
 crew, however, saw no sign of fear in him, for 
 he carried a cheerful countenance, while they 
 were dismayed and broken spirited. 
 
 He now brought out his chart, and calling all 
 the men around him, shewed them that they had 
 passed three hundred miles farther than any 
 Englishman had been before, and gave them 
 their choice, whether they would proceed or turn 
 back. The men could come to no decision : 
 some were for proceeding, some for returning. 
 One man said that "if he had one hundred 
 pounds, he would give four score and ten to be 
 at home •" — while the carpenter, who had some 
 courage, said " that if he had a hundred 
 he would not give ten upon any such condition : 
 but would think it to be as good money as any 
 he ever had, and to bring it as v»'ell home by the 
 leave of God." The great majority of them did 
 not care where they went, provided they were 
 only clear of the ice, and some spoke angry 
 9 
 
98 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 words against the master. This was precisely 
 what Hudson expected. He knew that he had 
 a mutinous set of men, and that they themselves 
 scarcely knew what they desired. Yet this wa? 
 no time to resent their \vords and punish them 
 His object w^as to pacify them. He therefore 
 reasoned with them, trying to allay their fears, 
 rouse their hopes, and inspire them with courage, 
 until at length, they all again set resolutely at work 
 to bring the ship from the ice, and save them- 
 selves. After much labor they succeeded in 
 turning her round. They now^ worked their 
 way by little and little, until at length they found 
 themselves in a clear sea, and kept on their 
 course north-west. 
 
 There is no scene in the life of Hudson shew- 
 ing greater firmness and presence of mind than 
 this. With his little ship hemmed in by moun- 
 tains of ice, and a murmuring and desperate 
 crew on board, he might naturally have exhibit- 
 ed some symptoms of fear, both as to the dan- 
 gers without, and the danger within the ship. 
 There can be few situations more perilous, yet 
 he is calm. His mind rises with the occasion . 
 he brings around him these desperate sailors, 
 calms their fears, and inspires them with new 
 courage. Overcoming these, he now overcomes 
 the storm without, and presses on his voyage. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 99 
 
 On the 8th of July, he again saw the land 
 bearing" south-west, but it was all covered with 
 snow, and he gave it the name of Desire Pro- 
 voked. Having now entered the straits which 
 bear his name, he kept his course west, and 
 spent nearly the whole month of July in passing 
 'hrough them. This was a new world around 
 hem, and as he passed on, he gave names to the 
 »ew bays, capes, and islands, which fell under 
 \is observation. The main land he called 
 ' ■ Magna Britannia.''^ To some rocky islands 
 5 ear which he anchored as a shelter from a 
 ii-:orm, he gave the name of the " Isles of God^s 
 Jlercies,'' and to a high point of land which he 
 pissed, the name of '^ Hold loith Hope.'^ To 
 o<her places he gave the names of Prince Hen- 
 ry^s Cape, King Jameses Cape, and Queen Ann's 
 Cape. They were still occasionally in the neigh • 
 borhood of ice, but the men seem now to have 
 become familiar with this sort of danger, and 
 even from time to time to have amused them- 
 selves by chasing bears that were seen upon the 
 floating pieces. The last point of land which 
 he seems to have marked jpon this course, was 
 a bold headland upon the northern shore, to 
 which he gave the name of Salisbury's Fore- 
 land. From this point, he stood south-west, and 
 
100 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 running about fourteen leagues, entered a strait 
 about two leagues broad. In honor of two of 
 the company that had employed him, he named 
 the cape on the south side of the strait. Cape 
 Worsenholme, and that on the north, Cape 
 Digges. This strait, you "^vill find, \vas but the 
 passage way to the great bay, which now bears 
 his name. 
 
 Full of hope, now that the long-sought pas- 
 sage to the East was clear before him, he sent 
 a number of the men on shore at Cape Digges, 
 that they might climb the hills, and see the great 
 ocean beyond the straits. As the men \vander- 
 ed on the land, which was covered with grass, 
 (among which was much sorrel and scurvy 
 grass,) they saw^ herds of deer : at one time as 
 many as sixteen in a .herd, and abundance of 
 fowls flying over their heads. Still pressing to- 
 ward the hills, which seemed to grow farther as 
 they advanced, they met with strange piles of 
 stones. These they thought must be the work 
 of some civilized people, but on coming near 
 and lifting up one of the stones, they found the 
 piles were hollow, and filled inside with fowls 
 hung by the neck. A thunder storm now came 
 on, and prevented their exploring farther. With 
 some difficulty they reached the ship, for a fog 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 101 
 
 nad risen upon the water, and Hudson found 
 
 it necessary to fire two guns, that they might 
 
 know where he w^as. They told of what sup- 
 
 pHes they had found, and when the storm was 
 
 over, tried to persuade the master to remain here 
 
 a day or two, w^hile they went ashore again, and 
 
 provisioned the ship. But Hudson w^ould Hsten 
 
 to no such request. He could suffer no delay, 
 
 for he felt almost certain that his way w^as clear 
 
 before him, and he burned to press onward. He 
 
 "Weighed anchor immediately, and keeping the 
 
 main land on the left, touched the rocks among 
 
 the Sleepers, encountered a storm, and passing 
 
 south-east, soon discovered two points of land 
 
 before him. He now sent some of the men 
 
 ashore again, to notice if they could see the ocean 
 
 beyond. They returned, reporting that the sea 
 
 was open to the south. Pressing immediately 
 
 between these points he entered the sea, and 
 
 continuing his course south, (stopping only once 
 
 to take in ballast and water,) was ere long at the 
 
 southern extremity of it. It proved to be only 
 
 a part of the great inland sea (Hudson's Bay) 
 
 upon which he was voyaging ; and disappointed 
 
 that he could proceed no farther in this direction, 
 
 with a sad heart he prepared to retrace his 
 
 course northward. Here he began to hear onc« 
 
 9* 
 
102 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 more, the murmurings of his mutinous crew. He 
 had borne with their complaints patiently be- 
 fore, but now he would endure them no longer. 
 Robert Juet the mate, and Francis Clement the 
 boatswain, were suspected of making the trouble, 
 and Juet, like most guilty men, endeavored to 
 make a show of innocence by demanding that the 
 charges against him should be investigated. A 
 court of inquiry was therefore appointed to try 
 him. It was proved that before they reached 
 Iceland, Juet had tried to dishearten the men 
 and shake their confidence in the commander : 
 his insolence as regards the quarrel between 
 Green and the surgeon, and his wicked advice 
 to some of the men to keep their arms loaded by 
 them, were also sworn to : and there were wit- 
 nesses to shew that ever since the ship left Cape 
 Digges, he had been endeavoring to plot mis- 
 chief. Hudson decided, therefore, that he should 
 no longer be the mate, and Robert Bylot was 
 appointed in his place. The boatswain was 
 found guilty of conduct almost as bad, and his 
 place was given to William Wilson. Hudson 
 seems to have felt sorry that he found these acts 
 necessary, for he admonished both Juet and 
 Clement kindly, and promised that if they 
 would behave well for the future he would not 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 103 
 
 only forget past injuries, but be the means of 
 doing them good. 
 
 It was now the 10th of September, and Hud- 
 son, moving north again, spent the whole of this 
 and the next month in exploring the great bay, 
 still longing for his eastern passage. From time 
 to time tempests would strike the ship, and he 
 would make a harbor where he could. During 
 one storm they were forced to cut their cable, 
 and thereby lost their anchor. At another time 
 the ship ran upon rocks, and stuck fast for 
 twelve hours, but fortunately got off without 
 much injury. At length, the end of October was 
 at hand ; " the nights long and cold, the land 
 covered with snow" wherever it was seen, and 
 it was evident that the season for navigation was 
 well nigh past. Hudson now ran the ship into 
 a small bay, and sent Habakkuk Pricket, one 
 of the sailors, and Philip StafFe, the carpenter, 
 off in the boat, to search for a proper place 
 where they might shelter themselves for the win- 
 ter. In a little time they found what they 
 thought a suitable position, the ship was brouc^ht 
 there, and hauled aground. It was now the first 
 day of November ; and by the tenth they found 
 themselves shut up for the season : hard freezing 
 weather had set in, and the ship w^as completely 
 fastened in the ice. 
 
104 HENKY HUDSON. 
 
 Some have found fault with this attempt of 
 the commander to winter in this northern bay. 
 It is said " that Hudson, on finding, instead of the 
 India passage, that he was embayed, became 
 distracted, and committed many errors, especially 
 in resolving to winter in that desolate region."* 
 It is easy to find fault with a man, Vv'hen we do 
 not understand the difficulties of his position, 
 and especially when he proves in the end unfor- 
 tunate. He had enough to distract him : but we 
 can hardly call him distracted, who bore him- 
 self again and again so firmly and calmly against 
 his mutinous crew, and met so resolutely tempest 
 after tempest in that great bay, which the jour- 
 nal speaks of as " a labyrinth without end." 
 
 • Purchas. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 The dreary prospect of the winter— Disturbances 
 among the crew— Unexpected supply of wild 
 fowl and fish— Distress from hunger— Hud^ 
 son sails from his winter quarters— Green, 
 Juet, and Wilson stir the crew up to mutiny 
 —Hudson is seized, bound, and thrown into 
 the shallop, with others— the shallop set adrift 
 —Fate of the mutineers— The ship arrives in 
 Jlngland. 
 
 A LONG and dreary winter was now set in. 
 1 lYO harsdhips were distinctly before them, the 
 igors of a northern winter, and a scanty supply 
 ){ provisions; for the ship had been victualled 
 only for six months. Their only hope, therefore, 
 was to take care of what they had, to get what 
 they could in the neighborhood, andhave patience 
 till the spring, when they might reach Cape Dig- 
 ges, and then probably obtain supplies. 
 
 Hudson prudently commenced at once putting 
 the men on an allowance, and then, to encourage 
 
106 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 them to industry in procuring other provisions, 
 offered a reward to every man who should kill a 
 " Beast, Fish, or Fowl." In about a fortnight, 
 one of their nunaber (John Williams, the gunner) 
 died :* and in addition to the sorrow ot^ losing a 
 companion, another difficulty attended this mis- 
 fortune. 
 
 It seems it was customary, when a man died at 
 sea, after his burial, to bring his clothes to the 
 main-mast, and there sell them to the highest 
 bidder among the sailors. The poor gunner had, 
 among other garments, left an old gray cloth 
 gown, which Henry Green desired, and begged 
 the commander that he would favor him and al- 
 low him to have it. Upon his agreeing to pay 
 as much as any other man would, Hudson impru- 
 dently promised it should be his. This dissatis- 
 fied the crew, for it evidently showed that Green 
 was a favorite. 
 
 Finding his w-inter quarters not so comforta- 
 ble as they might be, he now ordered the car- 
 penter to go ashore and build a house, for the 
 better accommodation of the crew. The car- 
 penter refused to obey, saying, that the frost and 
 
 * Hudson is said to have treated this man cruelly, but no 
 word or action of liis is brought forward to support this 
 charge. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 107 
 
 snow were such, that he could not do it, and 
 moreover that it was no work of his, for he was 
 only the ship carpenter. Hudson now became 
 angry, and driving him out of the cabin, followed 
 him with abusive words, and even threatened to 
 hang him. The carpenter, still insolent, replied, 
 " that he knew what belonged to his place better 
 than Hudson, and that he was no house carpen- 
 ter" The carpenter, though insolent, it would 
 seem, was right enough in one particular : it was 
 late to build the house now ; it should have been 
 attended to when they were first frozen in, and 
 he had then spoken to Hudson about it, but at 
 that time he refused to have it done. In this 
 quarrel, Henry Green sided with the carpenter, 
 and this displeased Hudson the more. The diffi- 
 culty being ended, the carpenter had time for 
 reflection, and thinking that obedience was best, 
 not only built the house, (which, however, prov- 
 ed of little advantage,) but was ever after one 
 of the Avarmest friends that Hudson had in the 
 ship. 
 
 The day after this, the carpenter went ashore 
 wdth his gun, taking Green along with him. 
 Green left contrary to orders, and the master was 
 again displeased with him. He now took the 
 cloth gown of the gunner that had been prom- 
 
08 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 ised to Green, and gave it to Robert Bylot, the 
 mate. Upon Green's return, he was angry, and 
 reminded the master of his promise Hudson 
 upon this spoke harshly to Green, telling him 
 " that all his friends would not trust him with 
 twenty shillings, and therefore why should he ? 
 As for his wages he had none, nor should have, 
 if he did not please him well." These words 
 were never forgotten by Green, but sank deeply 
 in his heart. He seems to have forgotten all 
 former kindness in the remembrance of them. 
 
 As the season now advanced, they suffered se- 
 verely from the cold : most of the men, from time 
 to time, having their feet frozen, and being ren- 
 dered thereby lame. But in the way of provis- 
 ions, they fared for a while much better than they 
 had even expected. For three months, they found 
 abundance of white partridges around them, and 
 killed of these more than one hundred dozen. 
 Other birds too, were sometimes shot. These 
 afforded supplies through " the extreme cold 
 weather," and when spring came, they were vis- 
 ited by other fowl, such as swan, geese, and 
 ducks. These, however, were taken with diffi- 
 culty. Hudson hoped, when they first made 
 their appearance, that they came to this region to 
 breed, and might be taken easily, but he found 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 109 
 
 tliey went farther north for that purpose. Before 
 the ice broke up, these too began to fail, and 
 starvation now drove them to sad extremities 
 They went dimbingover the hills, and wandering 
 through the valleys, in search of anything that 
 might satisfy hunger. They ate the moss on 
 the ground, and every frog that could be found 
 It was a great comfort to them when Thomas 
 Woodhouse, one of their company, discovered 
 in his wanderings a tree bearing certain buds, full 
 of " turpentine substance." They now, from 
 time to time, would gather these, boil them, and 
 make a palatable drink. These buds, too, 
 answered another purpose. When steeped hot, 
 and applied by the surgeon to their aching limbs, 
 they gave great relief to the sick.* 
 
 About the time that the ice began to break up, 
 they were visited by a savage, (the only one 
 they had seen through the winter,) and they were 
 greatly cheered by his arrival. Hudson treated 
 him with great kindness, made him a present of 
 a knife, boking-glass, and some buttons, and 
 the man made signs that he would return again. 
 He was true to his promise this time, for he came 
 back before a great while, drawing his sled, load- 
 
 * This tree is supposed by Doctor Belknap to be the "Pop 
 ulus Balsamifera." 
 
 10 
 
110 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 ed with deer and beaver-skins. He was receiv- 
 ed again very kindly, and when he strangely 
 returned the presents he had received, Hudson 
 immediately restored them to him again. He 
 then traded with him for one of his deer-skins, 
 and the savage, as he left them now, made 
 " many signs of people to the north and to the 
 south," and promised that after so many sleeps, 
 he would come again. "Whether (as has been 
 said) Hudson's hard bargain for the deer-skin 
 displeased him, or whether some other cause 
 actuated him, certain it is that he came no more, 
 and now all hopes of obtaining provision through 
 him were at an end. 
 
 Fortunately, now the ice was so far broken 
 up, that they were enabled to make up a fishing 
 party, to try their skill with the net. On the first 
 day they were very successful : they took five 
 hundred fish. They now began to think their 
 sorrows at an end, so far as food was concerned, 
 but they were doomed to disappointment, for on 
 no day after did they take " a quarter of that 
 number." At this time, two of the men (Hen- 
 ry Green and William Wilson) were so dissat- 
 isfied, that they plotted to steal the boat, push off, 
 and shift for themselves. But Hudson now called 
 for the boat himself, and their plot proved idle 
 
HENRY HUDSON. Ill 
 
 He had perceived the woods on fire at the south 
 for some time, and fancied that if he could reach 
 thern, he might find some of the people and ob- 
 tain provisions. Accordingly he made ready the 
 boat, took in eight or nine days provisions, and 
 leaving orders that the crew should take in wood, 
 water, and ballast, and have everything in 
 readiness by his return, he departed. His voy- 
 age too, proved profitless — ere long he came 
 back disappointed and tired, for though he could 
 come near enough to see the people setting the 
 woods on fire, he could never reach them.* 
 
 The men had obeyed his orders during his ab- 
 sence, and were now prepared to depart from 
 their cold winter quarters. Before he weighed 
 anchor, Hudson, with a sad heart, " distributed 
 among the crew the remnant of provisions," 
 
 * Hudson is said to have acted foolishly in leaving the men, 
 and not prosecuting the fishing. But this is evidently incor- 
 rect, for he took the boat when they were failing in this effort, 
 and went off with the earnest desire of doing good to them 
 all. 
 
 Purchas (in his pilgrimage) says, "at the opening of the 
 year there came to the ship's side abundance of fish of all 
 sorts, that they might therewith have fraught themselves for 
 their return, if Hudson had not too desperately pursued the 
 voyage, neglecting this opportunity of storing themselves 
 with fish, W'hich he committed to the care of certain careless, 
 dissolute villains, which in his absence conspired against 
 kim — in a few days the fish all forsook them." 
 
112 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 about a pound of bread to each man, " and 
 kno'wing their wretched condition, and the un- 
 certainty of what might befall them, he also gave 
 to every man a bill of return, which might be 
 showed at home, if it pleased God that they 
 came home, and he wept when he gave it to 
 them." 
 
 It was about the middle of June, when they 
 hoisted sail. Unfortunately, in three or four 
 days, they found themselves surrounded by ice, 
 and \Vere forced to cast anchor. Here it was 
 discovered, that some of the men had alread) 
 ravenously ate up all their bread ; and now some 
 cheese was found, and divided among them, 
 " about three pounds and a half to each person." 
 Some of the more prudent part of the crew re- 
 monstrated against this, saying, " that if all the 
 cheese w<is given out, some of the men would de- 
 vour their share at once, as they had their bread," 
 and they, therefore, advised that a part should be 
 kept back. But as some of the cheese was bad, 
 Hudson determined to make an equal division 
 of all at once, and thereby prevent, as he hoped, 
 all complaints. 
 
 They were now detained at their anchorage 
 amid the ice for nearly a week, and it was dur- 
 ing this time that signs of open mutiny began to 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 113 
 
 appear among the crew. Hudson, it seems, said 
 to one of the men, (Nicholas Simmes,) that there 
 would be a breaking up of chests, and a search 
 for bread, and told him if he had any to bring 
 it to him. The man obeyed, and immediately 
 brought forward a bag, containing thirty cakes. 
 Others of the crew now became greatly exasper- 
 ated, and at once commenced their plot for the 
 destruction of their commander. 
 
 Green and Wilson now went at midnight to 
 Pricket, who was lame in his berth, and opened 
 the plan. This Pricket had been a servant of 
 Sir Dudley Digges, (one of the company who had 
 fitted out the ship,) and the mutineers hoped to 
 secure him as a friend, that he might intercede 
 for pardon in their behalf with his old master 
 when they should reach England. These men 
 complained to Pricket, that there was only four- 
 teen days provision in the ship, that the master 
 was irresolute, not knowing what to do, that 
 they had eaten nothing for three days, and 
 " therefore, were determined either to mend or 
 end, and what they had begun they would go 
 through with it, or die." Declarmg that they be- 
 lieved their only hope was in taking command 
 of the ship themselves, they expressed themselves 
 fully resolved to do so at all hazards. Their 
 10* 
 
114 HENRY HUDSON, 
 
 plan was, to take the master and all the sick, 
 place them in the shallop, set it adrift, and then 
 shift for themselves. 
 
 In vain did Pricket plead with them of the 
 blackness of this intended crime. He reminded 
 them also, of their wives, their cHldren, and their 
 country, from which they would cut themselves 
 off for ever by the deed, but all to no purpose ; 
 they were fully bent upon it. Green told him 
 " to hold his peace, for he knew the worst, which 
 w^as, to be hanged when he came home, and 
 therefore, of the two, he would rather be hanged 
 at home than starved abroad." He then com- 
 menced cursing, and threatened to have Pricket 
 put in the shallop vrith the rest. Finding his 
 efforts useless, Pricket now begged that they 
 would delay the crime, but here again he was 
 unsuccessful, they declaring that, if they waited, 
 the plot w^ould be discovered, and sorrow would 
 fall upon themselves. He begged for a delay 
 of three days, of two days, of even twelve 
 hours, but all without effect. He now upbraided 
 them, telling them that it was not their own 
 safety they sought, but blood, and that they were 
 actuated by feelinos of revenge. Upon this, 
 Green seized a Bible before him, and swore 
 " he would do harm to no man, and what he did 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 115 
 
 was for the good of the voyage, and nothing 
 else." Wilson then took the same oath, after- 
 wards Juet, Thomas, Perce, Moter, and Bennet 
 came in and swore to the same purpose. The 
 precise words of their oath were as follows : 
 " You shall swear frutl to God, your Prince, and 
 Country ; you ^lall do nothing but to the glory 
 of God, and (he good of the action in hand, and 
 harm to no vian^ Pricket seems to have brought 
 them to this positive oath, as the only means left 
 for restraining them. How heartless they prov- 
 ed^ and how utterly they forgot the oath, we 
 s-Aall presently see. 
 
 Their plan was now arranged, to be executed 
 at day-light, and in the mean time, the wretch 
 Green hung around the master with pretended 
 love. Besides Hudson and the sick, they had 
 resolved to put into the shallop the carpenter 
 and Henry King. They pretended to be dissat- 
 isfied with these, because of some injustice 
 done about the provisions ; but the true cause 
 of their dislike of the carpenter was, that Hud- 
 son loved him, and after leaving their winter 
 quarters, had made him the mate in place of 
 Robert Bylot. Pricket, however, urged that 
 they could not do without the carpenter, and 
 they consented that he should remain. ^ It hap- 
 
116 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 pened that King and the carpenter slept upon 
 deck that night, and at day-break, King was ob- 
 served to fro down " into the hokl," as Bennet, 
 the cook, was going down for water. Some of 
 the mutineers now ran ar^d closed down the 
 hatches on him, while others lield the carpenter 
 in a talk, so that he did no<; notice what was 
 going on. Hudson now came up from his cabin, 
 and was immediately seized by Thomas and 
 Bennet, who held him fast, while Wilson bound 
 his arms behind him. " He asked them what 
 they meant? they told him he should krnw 
 when he was in the shallop." In the meah 
 time, Juet went into the hold to attack King. 
 Here there w^as a sharp conflict, for King had 
 got a sword, and not only kept him at bay, but 
 would have killed him, had not others who heard 
 the noise ran down to Juet's assistance. Hud- 
 son now called to the carpenter, telling him that 
 he was bound, but he could give him no help. 
 Lodlo and Bute reproached their shipmates, 
 telling them " their knavery would show itself." 
 The boat was now hastily hauled alongside, and 
 the sick and lame were called up from their 
 berths, to get into the shallop. Hudson now 
 called to Pricket to come to the hatch-way to 
 speak with him. Pricket crawled up, and on 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 117 
 
 his knees " besought them, for the love of God, 
 to remember themselves, and do as they would 
 be done unto." Their only answer was, to or- 
 der him back to his berth, and they would not 
 allow him one word with the commander. He 
 went back, Hudson still calling to him at " the 
 horn which gave light into his cabin, and telling 
 him that Juet would overthrow them all." 
 " Nay," replied Pricket, " it is that villain, 
 Henry Green." 
 
 Hudson, thus bound, was put into the shal- 
 lop, and his son John thrown in alongside of 
 him. Then came the sick and the lame, Arnold 
 Lodlo,Sidrack Faner, Thomas Wydhouse, Adam 
 Moore, Henry King, and Michael Bute. Two 
 others were to have been put in — Francis Clem- 
 ents, and the cooper; but John Thomas was a 
 friend to Clements, and Bennetto the cooper, and 
 while Henry Green swore they should go, they 
 swore they should not, and at last they were al- 
 lowed to remain. The carpenter was now free, 
 and they desired him to remain, but he declared 
 that he would not desert his commander, or stay 
 with such villains. He asked for his chest of 
 tools, and they placed it in the shallop. Before 
 leaving, he went below to talk with Pricket, who 
 begged him to remain and use his influence to 
 
118 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 have the others taken back. But the carpenter 
 refused, saying, that they would all be in the 
 ship again, for there was no one on board who 
 knew enough to carry her home. He thought 
 the boat would be kept in tow only for a time ; 
 but begged Pricket, if they should be parted, 
 that if it was his lot first to reach Cape Digges, 
 he would leave some token there, by which he 
 might know it. Promising in return that he 
 would do the same thing, if he had the good for- 
 tune to be first there, " with tears in their eyes," 
 they parted. The carpenter, now taking a gun, 
 some powder and shot, an iron pot, a small quan- 
 tity of meal, and some other provisions, leaped 
 into the shallop.* The anchor was now weigh- 
 ed, the sails hoisted, and with a fair wind 
 they stood eastward, dragging the shallop at the 
 
 * " But see what sincerity can do in the most desperate trials. 
 Philip StafTe, an Ipswich man, who, according to his name, had 
 been a principal staffe and stay to the weaker and more un- 
 settled courage of his companions in the whole action, light- 
 ening and enlightening their drooping, darkened spirits, with 
 sparks from his own resolution ; their best purveyor with his 
 piece on shore, and both a skilful carpenter and lusty mari- 
 ner on board, when he could by no persuasions, seasoned with 
 tears, divert them from their devilish designs, notwithstanding 
 they entreated him to stay with them, yet chose rather to 
 commit himself to God's mercy in the forlorn shallop, than 
 with such villains to accept of likelier hopes." — Purchas his 
 Pilgrims. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 119 
 
 stern. When they had nearly cleared the ice, 
 they cut the rope, and the boat was adrift. 
 
 Now they hoisted their topsails, and stood 
 away into a clear sea. In a little time they low- 
 ered their topsails, righted helm, and commenced 
 the work of ransacking the ship. Chests and 
 lockers were broken open, and every place was 
 pillaged. In the cabin they found some biscuit 
 and a but of beer ; and a few pieces of pork, 
 some meal, and a small quantity of peas were 
 found in the hold. While they were busy at 
 this work, some one cried out, that the shallop 
 was^in sight. Pricket now besought them to 
 take their poor comrades on board again. But 
 this they refused to do. Although they had now 
 obtained all the provisions to themselves, and 
 might at least have taken the boat in tow as far 
 as Cape Digges, where Hudson and his compan- 
 ions might have found some relief, and perhaps 
 once more reached Europe — they positively re- 
 fused to aid them in any w»y. The tmth is, 
 these mutineers did not desire that they should 
 live : so they again hoisted sail, and stood away 
 from the boat " as from an enemy." 
 
 A more outrageous and heartless crime than 
 this, committed by the mutineers, can hardly be 
 thought of. It wap not only murder, but murder 
 
120 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 under the very worst circumstances. Green, the 
 ringleader in it, had been taken by Hudson, 
 ■when he was a castaway from his own mother, 
 and treated as his own son. He repaid the 
 love of his benefactor, by this act of base in- 
 gratitude ; and his conduct serves to show- how 
 early profligacy and sin will deaden the feelings 
 of the heart, and steel it against all that is good. 
 Juet, another conspirator, had sailed with the 
 commander on former voyages, and shared all 
 his glories and his perils. Wilson, another of 
 the set, had been selected by Hudson as a good 
 man, and appointed the boatswain. This w^as 
 the man who, more than any other, refused to 
 hearken to the entreaty of Pricket, that the men 
 might be taken aboard — and these were the 
 three principal men w^ho had plotted this mis- 
 chief. 
 
 To make the crime w^orse, with cold-blooded 
 cruelty, they took the sick and the lame, and 
 gave these sufferin^^- men to the rough winds and 
 cold waters of the Northern Sea, with scarcely 
 a moi^el to subsist upon. It would have been 
 mercy, indeed, to have killed them all at once, 
 but their cruelty preferred leaving them to a long, 
 lingering, and horrible death. And this horrible 
 death, even the young son of Hudson was to 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 121 
 
 share, though his tender years might have pleaded 
 in his behalf. 
 
 The mutineers now kept on their way under 
 Hemy Green, who was appointed their com- 
 mander. Their aim was to reach Cape Digges, 
 but it was more than a month before this was 
 accomplished. Green was utterly ignorant and 
 unfit to command ; Robert Juet thought he was 
 wiser, and offered his counsels : but the truth 
 is, Robert Bylot was the most serviceable man 
 among them, and but for him, they would probably 
 have never reached the Capes at any time. Du- 
 ring this month, the ship seems to have been 
 tossed about at the mercy of the winds, and their 
 lives were more than once endangered. At one 
 time they were for a fortnight embayed with ice, 
 which stretched for miles around them, and feared 
 they should never escape. Thrice did the ship 
 run upon rocks, and on one occasion remained 
 so for hours, until the flood tide floated her off. 
 Provisions, too, were scanty ; but they were able 
 to make landings sometimes, and catch a few 
 fish, shoot a few fowl, and gather the cockle- 
 grass which spread itself along the shores. 
 Guilt will make a coward of any man, and so 
 these men were all cowards : while they feared 
 the perils which surrounded them, they also 
 11 
 
122 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 feared even the success of reaching England. 
 Cursing and swearing, they ^vere continually 
 declaring that England was "no safe place for 
 them;" and Green swore that the ship should 
 keep the sea until he had the king's hand and 
 seal for his pardon. 
 
 At length, to their great comfort, they came 
 in sight of the Capes, where they hoped for sup- 
 plies. The boat was immediately sent ashore to 
 obtain provisions. As it approached, it was met 
 b}^ seven canoes filled with the natives. The 
 savages were at first alarmed, and drew^ back ; 
 but presently they became familiar, and hostages 
 w^ere exchanged betw^een the parties. After- 
 wards they all went ashore, and met in the tents 
 of the natives. There w^as great joy among 
 them. The savages danced, leaped, stroked 
 their breasts, and offered them many things, so 
 that the men returned to the ship greatly pleased, 
 thinking they had found a kind and hospitable 
 people. Some few of the mutineers were sus- 
 picious of these savages; but most of them, with 
 Henry Green at their head, had all confidence 
 in their kindness. 
 
 Accordingly, the next day, Green ordered 
 the boat to be made ready, and with Wilson, 
 Thomas, Perse, Moter, and Pricket, started for 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 123 
 
 the shore : the boat was laden with such articles 
 as they thought of trafficking, and Pricket, being 
 lame, was to remain in the boat, and guard the 
 articles while the others landed. Green foolishly 
 went unarmed, though some of his companions 
 advised him to the contrary. As they came 
 near, they saw the savages upon the hills, dancing 
 and leaping. The boat touched and was fast- 
 ened ; and while Green, Wilson, and Thomas 
 met the savages on the beach, who came down 
 displaying their articles of traffic, Perse and 
 Moter went up on the hills to pick sorrel ; Prick- 
 et, in the mean time, remained in the stern of 
 the boat. While matters were going on thus, 
 one of the savages stepped into the boat ; but 
 Pricket, bemg suspicious, ordered him out. In 
 the mean time, another stole behind Pricket, un- 
 observed, and stabbed him twice before he could 
 reach his own dagger and despatch him. Now 
 there was a general conffict on shore. Green, 
 Perse, Wilson, and Thomas came tumbling into 
 the boat, badly wounded. Moter, seeing the 
 fight from the hill, leaped from the rocks, plunged 
 into the sea, and held fast to the stern ; Perse 
 helped him in, seized a hatchet, laid one of the 
 savages dead, and pushed off the boat. They 
 were followed by clouds of arrows : Green was 
 
124 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 instantly killed, and Perse and Pricket again 
 wounded ; still, Perse Avith Moter rowed rapidly 
 towards the ship, until Perse fainted, and Moter 
 was left to manage the boat alone. Fortunately, 
 the savages did not follow them with their boats. 
 Moter now made signals to the ship, (for he 
 could not reach her,) and she came to his relief. 
 The body of Green was thrown into the sea; 
 "Wilson and Thomas died the same day, cursing 
 and raving in the most awful manner ; and Perse 
 died two days afterward. 
 
 The wretched crew still needed supphes, and 
 it was necessary, even at the peril of their lives, 
 to obtain them. A party was therefore formed, 
 who went along the shore and managed to kill 
 a quantity of fowl ; and now they hoisted sail 
 again, glad enough to depart from this inhos- 
 pitable region. By the time they reached the 
 inlet of Hudson's Straits, their provisions again 
 ran so low that they were obliged to live on 
 short allowances, and devour even the skins of 
 the fowls. Now they pressed toward the Deso- 
 lations, as well as they could. Robert Juet m-ged 
 them to steer for Newfoundland, stating that 
 there they would find relief from some of their 
 countrymen, or, if they failed in that, would at 
 least discover some supplies left behind by them. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 125 
 
 Accordingly they altered their course ; but, for- 
 tunately for them, as it turned out, the wind 
 changed, and they now determined to shape 
 their course for Ireland. It is hardly possible to 
 give any idea of the sufferings of these miserable 
 men, as they were tossed about upon the ocean. 
 Ignorant, discontented, and sad, they lived on, 
 with their sorrows increasing from day to day. 
 All their meat being gone, they were forced to 
 take salt broth for dinner, and half a fowl for 
 supper ; then, as provisions became more scanty, 
 they took the bones of the fowls, fried them in 
 tallow, and ate them gladly. Even the vinegar 
 and candles were now divided among them — 
 about a pound of candles to each man. Yet 
 they were far from Ireland. Exhausted and 
 weakened, they became unable to stand at the 
 helm, but sat and steered the ship. Juet died in 
 agony, of starvation, and the rest were now 
 in despair : they had lost all hope of reaching 
 Ireland ; they cared not which way the vessel 
 went. Thie poor wretches " would sit and see 
 the foresail or mainsail fly up to the tops, the 
 sheets being either flown or broken, and would not 
 help it themselves, nor call to others for help." 
 At length it pleased God to bring them in sight 
 of land. They raised a joyful cry, and now 
 11* 
 
126 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 strived to reach the coast. This they could not 
 do, but now, by God's mercy, a still more joyful 
 cry was heard — " A sail ! a sail !" A fishing 
 Dark on the coast had marked their distress, came 
 off to them, and took them safely into a harbor 
 in Ireland. Their wants were now supplied, 
 and throuo;h the kindness of the commander of 
 the bark, and the sympathy of a stranger, they 
 were enabled to reach Plymouth ; thence they 
 proceeded to Gravesend, and ere long were in 
 London. 
 
 Great was the astonishment of Sir Thomas 
 Smith (one of the company who had fitted out 
 this ship) when these men appeared before him. 
 He had not heard of the ship for nearly eighteen 
 months, and supposed, of course, that she was 
 lost. Great, too, was his sorrow and the sor- 
 row of all England, when the sad story of their 
 sufferings and sins was made known ; for Hud- 
 son had ever reflected honor upon his country, 
 and his countrymen loved him and grieved over 
 him. 
 
 Such was their love, that the London Com- 
 pany was not satisfied till it had made an effort 
 to save him. The next year, hoping that they 
 might learn something of the fate of Hudson, 
 and possibly relieve him, two ships (the Disco^ 
 
HENEY HUDSON* 127 
 
 very, in which Hudson had last sailed, and the 
 Resolution) were sent out, under the. command 
 of Captain Thomas Button. Pricket was taken 
 along as a sort of guide j and as the flood tide 
 near Cape Digges was represented by him as 
 coming from the west, a faint hope was enter- 
 tained that they might also find the Northwest 
 passage. 
 
 The ships returned the next year, having 
 failed in both objects. No tidings of Henry 
 Hudson were ever more received. Whether he 
 persevered until he reached Cape Digges, and 
 was there murdered by the savages ; whether he 
 perished in the ice, or died by famine, or was 
 swallowed by the waves, no man can tell. All 
 that is known is, that Hudson and his compan- 
 ions were never more heard of. 
 
 Whatever was his fate, however, he has left 
 behind him a bright and honorable name. His 
 reputation is this ; that with matchless fortitude 
 he lived amid the perils of the seas, still givirig 
 names to strange and unknown regions. In 
 England they mourned for him, for he w^as their 
 countryman, and they felt his loss. Yet, though 
 he was no native of our land, his discoveries 
 make him ours. His daring adventures were 
 performed in this New World where we dwell* 
 
128 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 and therefore our country has not been un- 
 mindful of perpetuating his memory. She has 
 seized his name as something which belongs to 
 her ; written it upon one of her fairest streams ; 
 and graven it for ever upon the palisades and 
 the hills of the Hudson. His best monument is 
 indeed in this western world ; for here it is, upon 
 the continent of North America, that a bay, a 
 strait, a city, and a river, all bear the name of 
 Hudson.* 
 
 * The story of this last vo5'age is gathered from Hudson's 
 own journal, the journal of Habakkuk Pricket, and a note 
 discovered in the desk of Thomas Wydhouse, all of which 
 may be seen in " Purchas his Pilgrims." 
 
 The names of the crew, as far as they can be gathered, 
 were as follows: Henry Hudson, John Hudson, Robert Juet, 
 Henry Green, Habakkuk Pricket, Robert Bylot, William Wil. 
 son, John Thomas, Bennet the cook, Andrew Moter, Michael 
 Perse, Philip Staffe, Arnold Lodlo, Francis Clements, Michael 
 Bute, Thomas Wydhouse, Sidrack Faner, Adrian Moore, John 
 King, Nicholas Simmes John Williams, Matthews and the 
 cooper,— 23. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Claim of John and Sebastian Cabot, as having 
 seen what is now Xew York in 1497 ; together 
 with the claim of John de Verrazzano, to having 
 entered JSTew York Harbor in 1524. 
 
 We have now followed Henry Hudson in his 
 last adventure. The whole of his career is in- 
 teresting, but the story of his third voyage par- 
 ticularly so to the citizens of the State of New 
 York — as it sets him forth as the discoverer of 
 this portion of the New World ; the first Euro- 
 pean who trod upon our own soil. I am anxious, 
 however, to do him no more than justice, and 
 while I believe that he was thus the discoverer 
 of what is now New York, it is right that I 
 should tell you, that some have supposed that 
 the land which we tread was possibly seen, 
 and the harbor of New York probably entered, 
 before the days of Henry Hudson. When I 
 shall have told you by whom it is thought this 
 was done, then I shall have fairly finished. 
 
130 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 The names of John and Sebastian Cabot are, 
 I dare say, well known to many of you. If not, 
 you will remember now that they were experien- 
 ced navigators — natives of Venice, who lived in 
 England. In the year 1497, these men, under the 
 patronage of King Henry the Seventh, sailed 
 from England in search of a North-West passage 
 to India. It is said, they passed along the coast of 
 North America, from the 67th to the 26th degree 
 of north latitude. In this run, they must have 
 passed w^hatis now know^n as the State of New 
 York, and it is supposed that they must have seen 
 the land. But if they did, certain it is, that they 
 did nothing more than see it, and even this is un- 
 certain. It is very remarkable, that these men 
 seem not even to have noticed the coasts along 
 w^hich they passed. At least, upon their return to 
 England, they had no satisfactory knowledge to 
 give farther than this, that there was a western 
 continent. Intent, probably, upon the main ob- 
 ject of their voyage, (a passage to the East,) and 
 not finding it, they lost sight of other things. But 
 at best, it is only claimed that they saw the land ; it 
 is not pretended that they landed on any part of it. 
 
 A stronger claim is set up in behalf of a Flor- 
 entine, John de Verrazzano,who was engaged in 
 the service of Francis First, king of France. It 
 
HENEY HUDSON. 132 
 
 seems that Verrazzano had been trusted by his 
 master, for some time, with the command of four 
 ships, to cruise against the Spaniards. These 
 ships being at one time overtaken by a storm 
 and separated, Verrazzano resolved now to keep 
 on his way alone, and undertake a voyage in 
 search of new regions. The world was then fill- 
 ed with the stories of maritime adventures and 
 new discoveries, and he seems to have thought 
 an effort this way more pleasant, and perhaps 
 more profitable, than chasing the Spaniards. It 
 was on the 7th day of January, i„ the year 1524 
 that with these feelings, he set sail from the des- 
 olate rocks to the east of Madeira, (known by 
 the English as "the Deserters,") and kept his 
 course westerly. Nearly two months passed 
 away, before he came near the American coast. 
 He then reached it in the latitude of 34 degrees 
 north, and was of course off the coast of North 
 Carolina. He now sailed south until he came 
 (it IS said) to the region of Palm-trees* From 
 this point he turned and sailed north, as far as 
 about the latitude of 41 degrees north, where he 
 
132 HENRY HUDSON. 
 
 entered a spacious harbor. Some suppose that 
 this was the harbor of New York. They reach 
 this conchision, as they think, by noticing Ver- 
 razzano's description of the harbor which he en- 
 tered, together with some other circumstances. 
 His description is in the following words : " This 
 land is situated in the parallel of Rome, in for- 
 ty-one degrees and two terces; but somewhat 
 more cold by accidental causes. The mouth of 
 the haven lieth open to the south, half a league 
 broad, and being entered within it, between the 
 east and the north, it stretcheth twelve leagues, 
 where it weareth broader and broader, and 
 maketh a gulf about twenty leagues in compass, 
 wherein are five small islands, very fruitful and 
 pleasant, full oi high and broad trees, among 
 the which islands, any great navy may ride safe, 
 w^ithout any fear of tempest or other danger."* 
 This has been thought a tolerably fair descrip- 
 tion of New York harbor by some ; while one 
 celebrated historianf has concluded that it " must 
 be that of JVew York." Others again have fan- 
 cied, that it agreed better with the harbor of 
 
 * Verrazzano's letter to Francis Frst, in Hakluyt's Collection 
 of Voyages. The letter will be given entire at the close of 
 this volume. 
 
 t Dr. Belknap. 
 
HENRY HUDSON. 133 
 
 Newpoit, in Rhode Island. I believe, however, 
 that by looking closely to the description, it will 
 be found by most people, difficult to apply it to 
 either of those harbors.* 
 
 Verrazzano remained in this harbor about fif- 
 teen days. He with many of his men was 
 frequently on shore, trading with the natives, and 
 he describes both the country and natives fully. 
 Here again, his descriptions of the persons, dress, 
 and customs of the savages, are supposed to bring 
 before us the same people that were seen nearly 
 a century afterward by Hudson. It must be 
 confessed that he had time for observation, and 
 while his descriptions of the natives may be com- 
 plete, it is well known that they will apply to 
 the savages on other parts of the American con- 
 tinent, as well as to those found upon the soil of 
 w^hat is now the State of New York. All that 
 can therefore be fairly claimed for Verrazzano 
 is the possibility, perhaps probabihty, of his hav- 
 ing been in New York harbor. 
 
 Verrazzano left this harbor (whatever harbor 
 it was) on the fifth of May, and keeping a north- 
 easterly course, was ere long as high as the 56th 
 degree of north latitude — and probably some- 
 
 * This is the opinion of Rev. Dr. Miller 
 
 12 
 
134 HENRY HUDSON. . 
 
 where off the coast of Labrador From this 
 point he sailed directly toward France, which he 
 reached in the month of July. A few days after 
 his arrival at the port of Dieppe, he wrote his 
 letter to the French King, giving the story of his 
 voyage. The story, it seems, caused no excite- 
 ment at home, nor did it serve as a guide to any 
 future navigator. Nearly a century passed 
 away before we hear anything farther of this 
 part of the American continent, and then we hear 
 of it through the voyage and discovery of Hen- 
 ry Hudson. Ignorant of the discovery of this 
 portion of the new world by any preceding nav- 
 igator, he sailed from England, and has left 
 among us the certain memorial of his adven- 
 tures.* 
 
 It may prove uninteresting to you now, but 
 
 * It is stated by Charlevoix, that Verrazzano, a short time 
 after his arrival in France, fitted out another expedition, with 
 the design of establishing a colony in America ; and that all 
 that is known of this enterprise is, that having embarked, 
 he was never seen more, and that it never has been ascertained 
 what became of him. 
 
 It is stated, however, by Ramusio, that when Verrazzano 
 landed, he and the people who went ashore with him 
 were cut to pieces and devoured by the savages, in the sight 
 of the rest of the crew, who had remained on board the ship, 
 and were unable to help them. This last story is believed 
 both by Dr. Forster and Dr. Belknap. 
 
HEJ^-RY HUDSON. 135 
 
 possibly interesting to older readers, and to your- 
 selves hereafter — and I therefore give, in an ap- 
 pendix, the entire letter of John de Verrazzano 
 to the King of France, that every one may judge 
 fairly for himself, who was the discoverer of what 
 is now the State of New York. The style and 
 spelling of the letter are quaint and old fashioned, 
 but I prefer publishing it precisely as it is written. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 TO THE MOST CHRISTIAN KING OF FRANCE, 
 FRANCIS THE FIRST. 
 
 THE RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO, A FLOREN- 
 TINE, OF THE LAND BY HIM DISCOUERED IN THE 
 NAME OF HIS MAIESTIE. WRITTEN IN DIEPE, THE 
 EIGHT OF JULY, 1524.* 
 
 I ^VROTE not to your Maiesty, most Christian 
 King, since the time we suffered the Tempest in 
 the North partes, of the successe of the foure 
 shippes, which your Maiestie sent forth to dis- 
 couer new lands by the Ocean, thinking your 
 Maiestie had bene ah'eady duely enformed 
 thereof Now by these presents I will give your 
 Maiestie to understand, how by the violence of 
 the Windes we were forced with the two shippes, 
 the Norman and the Dolphin, (in such euill case 
 as they were,) to land in Britaine. Where after 
 
 * Taken from Hakluyt's Voyages. 
 
 12* 
 
138 APPENDIX. 
 
 wee had repayred them in all poynts as was 
 needefull. and armed them very well, we took 
 our course along by the coast of Spaine, which 
 your IVIaiestie shall understand by the profite 
 that we receiued thereby. Afterwards with the 
 Dolphin alone we determined to make discouerie 
 of new Countries, to prosecute the Nauigation 
 we had already begun, which I purpose at this 
 present to recount unto your Maiestie, to make 
 manifest the whole proceeding of the matter. 
 
 The 17 of January, the yeere 1524, by the 
 Grace of God, we departed from the dishabited 
 rocke by the isle of Madeira, apperteining to the 
 King of Portugal, with 50 men, with victuals, 
 weapons, and other ship-munition very well pro- 
 uided and furnished for eight months ; and sail- 
 ing Westward with a faire Easterly winde, in 
 25 dayes we ran 500 leagues, and the 20 of 
 Februarie, we were ouertaken with as sharpe 
 and terrible a tempest as euer any saylers suf- 
 fered, whereof with the diuine helpe and merci- 
 full assistance of Almighty God, and the good- 
 nesse of our shippe, accompanied with the good 
 happe of her fortunate name, we were deliuered, 
 and with a prosperous winde followed our course 
 West and by North. And in other 25 dayes 
 we made aboue 400 leagues more, where we 
 
RELATION OF JOHN DE YERRAZZANO. 139 
 
 discouered a new land, neuer before seene of any 
 man either ancient or moderne, and at the first 
 sight it seemed somewhat low, but being within 
 a quarter of a league of it, we perceiued by the 
 great fires that we saw by the sea-coast, that it 
 was inhabited ; and saw that the lande stretched 
 to the southwards. In seeking some conuenient 
 harborough, wherein to anchor and to have 
 knowledge of the place, we sayled fiftie leagues 
 in vaine, and seeing the lande to runne still to 
 the southwards, we resolved to returne backe 
 againe towards the north, where wee found our 
 selves troubled with the like difficultie. At 
 length, being in despaire to find any porte, wee 
 cast anchor upon the coast and sent our boate 
 to shore, where we saw great store of people 
 w^hich came to the seaside ; and seeing us ap- 
 proch, they fled away, and sometimes would 
 stand still and looke backe, beholding us with 
 great admiration; but, afterwards, being animated 
 and assured with signes that we made them, 
 some of them came hard to the seaside, seeming 
 to reioyce very much at the sight of us, and 
 marvelling greatly at our apparel, shape and 
 vrhitenesse, shewed us by sundry signes, where 
 we might most commodiously come aland with 
 our boate, offering us also of their victuals to 
 
140 APPENDIX. 
 
 eat. Now I will briefly declare to your Maies- 
 tie their life and maners. as farre as we could 
 have notice thereof: These people goe alto- 
 gether naked, except only that they couer their 
 loines with certain skins of beastes, like unto 
 marterns. which they fasten unto a narrow gir- 
 dle made of grasse very artificially wrought, 
 hanged about with tayles of divers :ther beastes, 
 which, round about their bodies, hang danghng 
 down to their knees. Some of them weare gar- 
 lands of byrdes feathers. The people are of 
 colour russet, and not much unlike the Saracens ; 
 their hayre blacke, thicke, and not very long, 
 which they tye together in a knot behind, and 
 weare it like a little taile. They are well fea- 
 tured in their limbes, of meane stature, and com- 
 monly somewhat bigger than wee, broad breast- 
 ed, strong armed, their legs and other parts of 
 their bodies well fashioned, and they are dis- 
 figured in nothing, sauing that they haue some- 
 what broade visages, and yet not all of them, 
 for we saw many of them wel favoured, hauing 
 blacke and great eyes, with a cheerefull and 
 steady looke, not strong of body, yet sharpe wit- 
 ted, nimble and exceeding great runners, as farre 
 as we could learne by experience, and in those 
 two last qualities they are like to the people of 
 
RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 141 
 
 the east partes of the world, and especially to 
 them of the uttermost parts of China. We 
 could not learne of this people their manner of 
 liuing, nor their particular customs, by reason of 
 the short abode we made on the shore, our com- 
 pany being but small, and our ship ryding farre 
 off in the sea. And not farre from these we 
 found another people, whose lining wee think 
 to be like unto theirs (as hereafter I will declare 
 unto your Maiestie) shewing at this present the 
 situation and nature of the foresayd land. The 
 shoare is all couered with small sand, and so 
 ascendeth upwards for the space of 15 foote, 
 rising in form of little hils, about 50 paces 
 broad. And sayling forwards, we found cer- 
 taine small rivers and armes of the sea, that fall 
 downe by certaine creeks, washing the shoare on 
 both sides as the coast lyeth. And beyond this 
 we saw the open country rising in height above 
 the sandy shoare, with many faire fields and 
 plaines, full of mightie great woods, some very 
 thicke, and some thinne, replenished with diuers 
 sorts of trees as pleasant and delectable to be- 
 hold, as is possible to imagine. And your Ma- 
 iestie may not thinke that these are like the 
 woods of Hercynia or the wilde deserts of Tar- 
 tary, and the northerne coasts, full of fruitlesse 
 
142 APPENDIX. 
 
 trees; but they are full of palme trees, bay 
 trees, and high cypresse trees, and many other 
 sorts of trees unknowen in Europe, which yeeld 
 most sweete sauours farre from the shoare, the 
 propertie whereof we could not learn for the 
 cause aforesaid, and not for any difficulty to passe 
 through the woods, seeing they are not si thicke 
 but that a man may passe through them, neither 
 doe we thinke that they partaking of the east 
 W'orld round about them, are altogether voyd of 
 drugs or spicery, and other riches of golde, see- 
 ing the colour of the land doth so much argue 
 it. And the land is full of many beastes, as 
 stags, deere and hares, and likewise of lakes and 
 pooles of fresh water, with great plentie of 
 fowles, convenient for all kinde of pleasant 
 game. This land is in latitude 34 degrees, with 
 good and wholesome ayre, temperate, betweene 
 hot and colde ; no vehement windes doe blowe 
 in those regions, and those that doe commonly 
 reig^ne in those coasts, are the north west and 
 west windes in the summer season, (in the be- 
 ginning whereof we were there) the skie cleere 
 and faire with very little raine ; and if at any 
 time the ayre be cloudie and mistie with the 
 southerne winde, immediately it is*dissolued and 
 vvareth cleere and fayre againe. The sea is 
 
KELATIOxV OF JOHN DE VERKAZZANO. 143 
 
 calme, not boysterous, the waues gentle, and 
 although all the shoare be somewhat sholde and 
 without harborough, yet it is not dangerous to 
 the saylers, being free from rocks and deepe, so 
 that within 4 or 5 foote of the shoare there is 20 
 foote deepe of water without ebbe or flood, the 
 depth still increasing in such uniform proportion. 
 There is very good ryding at sea, for any ship 
 being shaken in a tempest, can neuer perish there 
 by breaking of her cables, which we have 
 proved by experience. For in the beginning of 
 March (as it is usual in all regions) being in the 
 sea oppressed with northerne windes, and ryding 
 there, we found our anchor broken before the 
 earth fayled or moved at all. We departed from 
 this place, still running along the coast, which 
 we found to trend toward the east, and we saw 
 every where very great fires, by reason of the 
 multitude of the inhabitants. While we rode 
 on that coast, partly because it had no harbo- 
 rough, and for that we wanted water, we sent 
 our boat ashoare with 25 men ; where, by rea- 
 son of great and continual waues that beat 
 against the shoare, being an open coast, without 
 succour, none of our men could possibly goe 
 ashoare without loosing our boate. We saw 
 there many people which came unto the shoarej 
 
144 APPENDIX. 
 
 making diuers signes of friendship, and shewing 
 that they were content we should come aland, 
 and by trial we found them to be very corteous 
 and gentle, as your Maiestie shall understand by 
 the successe. To the intent we might send them 
 of our things, which the Indians commonly de- 
 sire and esteeme, as sheetes of paper, glasses, 
 bels, and such like trifles, we sent a young man 
 one of our mariners ashoare, who swimming 
 towards them, and being within 3 or 4 yards of 
 the shoare, not trusting them, cast the things 
 upon the shoare ; but seeking afterwards to re- 
 turne, he was with such violence of the waues 
 beaten upon the shoare, that he was so bruised 
 that he lay there almost dead ; which the In- 
 dians perceiuing, ranne to catch him, and draw- 
 ing him out, they caried him a litle way oiF 
 from the sea. The young man perceiuing they 
 caried him, being at the first dismaied, began 
 then greatly to feare, and cried out piteously ; 
 likewise did the Indians* which did accompany 
 him, going about to cheere him and to giue him 
 courage, and then setting him on the ground at 
 the foote of a litle hil against the sunne, they 
 began to behold him with great admiration, 
 marueiling at the whitenesse of his flesh ; and 
 {)utting off his clothes, they made him warme at 
 
RELATION OF JOHN DE VEKRAZZANO. 145 
 
 a great fire, not without our great feare which 
 remained in the boate, that they w^oukl have 
 rosted him at that fire, and have eaten him. 
 The young man hauing recouered his strength, 
 and hauing stayed a while wdth them, shewed 
 them by signes that he was desirous to returne 
 to the ship, and they with great loue clapping 
 him fast about, with many embraeings, accom- 
 panying him unto the sea, and to put him in 
 more assurance, leaving him alone, went unto 
 a high ground, and stood there, beholding him 
 untill he was entred into the boate. This young 
 man obserued, as w^e did also, that these are of 
 colour inclining to blacke as the other w^ere, with 
 their flesh very shining, of meane stature, hand- 
 some visage, and delicate limnes, and of very 
 little strength, but of prompt wit, farther we 
 observed not. 
 
 Departing from hence, following the shore 
 which trended somewhat toward the north, in 50 
 leagues space w^e came to another land which 
 shewed much more faire and ful of woods, being 
 very great, where we rode at anker ; and that 
 we might have some knowledge thereof, we sent 
 20 men aland, which entred into the country 
 about 2 leagues, and they found that the people 
 were fled to the woods for feare. They saw 
 13 
 
146 APPENDIX. 
 
 only one old woman, ^vith a young maid of 18 
 or 20 yeeres old, ^vhich seeing our company, hid 
 themselves in the grasse for feare ; the olde 
 woman caried two infants on her shoulders, and 
 behind her necke a child of 8 yeeres olde. The 
 young woman was laden likewise with as many, 
 but when our men came unto them, the women 
 cried out, the olde woman made signes that the 
 men were fledde unto the woods. As soone as 
 they saw us to quiet them and to wdn their fa- 
 vour, our men gave them such victuals as they 
 had with them, to eate, which the olde woman 
 received thankfully, but the young woman dis- 
 dained them all, and threw them disdainfully on 
 the ground. They tooke a child from the olde 
 woman to bring into France, and going about 
 to take the young woman which was very beau- 
 tiful and of tall stature, they could not possibly 
 for the great outcries that she made bring her to 
 the sea ; and especially having great woods to 
 passe thorow^, and being farre from the ship, we 
 purposed to leaue her behind, beareing away the 
 child onely; we found those folkes to be more 
 white than those that we found before, being clad 
 with certaine leaues that hang on boughs of 
 trees, which they sew together with threds of 
 wilde hempe j their heads were trussed up after 
 
RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZAXO. 147 
 
 the same maner as the former were, their ordi- 
 nary foode is of pulse, whereof they haue great 
 store, differing in colour and taste from ours ; of 
 good and pleasant taste. Moreover they live 
 by fishing and fowling, which they take with 
 ginnies, and bowes made of hard wood, the ar- 
 rowes of canes, being headed with the bones of 
 fish and other beastes. The beastes in these 
 partes are much wilder then in our Europe, by 
 reason they are continually chased and hunted 
 We saw many of their boates, made of one tree 
 20 foote long and 4 foote broad, which are not 
 made with yron or stone, or any other kind of 
 metall (because that in all this country for the 
 space of 200 leagues which we ranne, we neuer 
 saw one stone of any sort :) they help them- 
 selues with fire, burning so much of the tree as 
 is sufficient for the hollownesse of the boate. 
 The like they doe in making the sterne and the 
 foreparte, until it be fit to saile upon the sea. 
 The land is in situation, goodness and fairnesse 
 like the other; it hath woods like the other, 
 thinne and full of diuers sorts of trees, but not 
 so sweete, because the country is more northerly 
 and colde. 
 
 We saw in this country many vines growing 
 naturally, which growing up, took holde of the 
 
148 APPENDIX. 
 
 trees as they doe in Lombardle, which, it by 
 husbandmen they were dressed in good order, 
 without all doubt they would yeeld excellent 
 wines; for hauing oftentimes seene the fruit 
 thereof dryed, which was sweete and pleasant, 
 and not differing from ours, we thinke that they 
 doe esteeme the same, because that in euery 
 place where they growe, they take away the un- 
 der branches growing round about, that the frui 
 thereof may ripen the better. We found also 
 roses, violets, lilies, and many sortes of herbes, 
 and sweete and odoriferous flowers different from 
 ours. We knewe not their dwellings, because 
 they were farre up in the land, and we iudge by 
 many signes that we saw, that they are of wood 
 and of trees framed together. We doe belieue 
 also by many conjectures and signes, that many 
 of them sleeping in the fields, have no other 
 couert then the open sky. Farther knowledge 
 haue we not of them ; we think that all the rest 
 whose countreys we passed, liue all after one 
 maner. Hauing made our aboade three days in 
 this country, and ryding on the coast for want of 
 harboroughs, we concluded to depart from thence 
 trending along the shore betweene the north 
 and the east, sayeling onely in the day time, and 
 ryding at anker by night. In the space of 100 
 
RELATION OF JOHN »E VERRAZZANO. 149 
 
 leagues sayllng we found a very pleasant place 
 situated among certaine little steape hils ; from 
 amidst the which hils there ranne downe into 
 the sea an exceeding great streme of water, 
 which within the mouth was very deepe, and 
 from the sea to the mouth of the same with the 
 tide which we found to rise 8 foote, any great 
 ship laden may passe up. But because we rode 
 at anker in a place well fenced from the wind 
 w^e would not venture ourselues without know- 
 ledge of the place, and we passed up with our 
 boate onely into the sayd river, and saw the 
 countrey very well peopled. The people are 
 almost like unto the others, and are clade with 
 the feathers of fowles of diuers colours ; they 
 came towards us very cheerefully, making great 
 showts of admiration, shewing us where we 
 might come to land most safely with our boate. 
 We entered up the said riuer into the land about 
 halfe a league, where it made a most pleasant 
 lake aboute 3 leagues in compasse, on the which 
 they rowed from the one side to the other, to 
 the number of 30 of their small boats, wherein 
 were many people which passed from one shore 
 to the other to come and see us. And, behold, 
 upon a sudden (as it is woont to fall out in sayl- 
 ing) a contrary flaw of winde comming from the 
 13* 
 
150 APPENDIX. 
 
 sea, we were inforced to returne to our ship, 
 leauing this land to our great discontentment, for 
 the great commodity and pleasantnesse thereof, 
 which we suppose is not without some riches, 
 all the hils shew^ing mineral matters in them. 
 We weyed anker and sayled toward the east, 
 for so the coast trended, and so alwayes for 50 
 leagues being in the sight thereof, we discouered 
 an island in forme of a triangle, distant from 
 the main land 10 leagues about the bignesse of 
 the island of the Rhodes; it was full of hils 
 covered with trees, well peopled, for we saw 
 fires all along the coast ; we gave it the name 
 of your Maiesties mother,* not staying there by 
 reason of the weather being contrary. 
 
 And we came to another land being 15 leagues 
 distant from the island, where we found a pass- 
 ing good hauen, wherein being entred, we found 
 about 20 small boats of the people, which \vith 
 diuers cries and wondrings came about our ship, 
 comming no neerer than 50 paces tow^ards us ; 
 they stayed and beheld the artificialnesse of 
 our ship, our shape and apparel, they then all 
 made a loud showt together, declaring that they 
 reioyced. When we had something animated 
 
 * Claudian Island. Claudia was the mother of King 
 Francis. 
 
RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 151 
 
 them, using their gestures they came so neere us, 
 that we cast them certaine bels and glasses, and 
 many toyes, which when they had received, they 
 looked on them with laughing, and came with- 
 out feare a board our ship. There were amongst 
 these people 2 kings of so goodly stature and 
 shape as is possible to declare, the eldest was 
 about 40 yeeres of age, the seconde was a yong 
 man of 20 yeeres olde, their apparell was on 
 this manner, the elder had upon his naked body 
 a harts skin wrought artificially with diuers 
 branches like damaske, his head was bayre with 
 the hayre tyed up behind with diuers knots ; 
 about his necke he had a large chaine, garnish- 
 ed with diuers stones of sundry colours, the 
 young man was almost apparelled after the same 
 maner. This is the goodliest people, and of 
 the fairest conditions that we have found in this 
 our voyage. They exceed us in bigness, they 
 are of the colour of brasse, some of them incline 
 more to whitenesse, others are of yellow colour, 
 of comely visage, with long and black hair, 
 which they are very careful to trim and decke 
 up ; they are black and quick eyed, and of sweete 
 and pleasant countenance, imitating much the 
 old fashion. I write not to your Maiestie of the 
 other parts of their body, hauing al such propor- 
 
152 APPENDIX. 
 
 tion as apperteeneth to any handsome man. The 
 women are of the hke conformitie and beautie, 
 very handsome and wel favoured, of pleasant 
 countenance, and comely to behold ; they are as 
 wel manered and continent as any women, and 
 of good education, they are all naked saue their 
 loines, which they couer with a deeres skin 
 branched or embrodered as the men use, there 
 are also of them which weare on their armes 
 uery rich skins of Luzernes, they adorne their 
 heads with diuers ornaments made of their owne 
 hair, which hang downe before on both sides 
 their brestes, others use other kind of dressing 
 themselues like unto the women of Egypt and 
 Syria, these are of the elder sort ; and when 
 they are maried, they wear diuers toyes, accord- 
 ing to the usage of the people of the east, as 
 well men as women. 
 
 Among whom we saw many peices of Avrought 
 copper, which they esteeme more than goolde, 
 which for the colour they make no account, for 
 that among all other it is counted the basest; 
 they make most account of azure and red. The 
 things that they esteeme most of all those which 
 we gaue them, were bels, christal of azure colour, 
 and other toyes to hang at their eares or about 
 their necke. They did not desire clothe of silke 
 
RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 153 
 
 or of golde, much lesse of any other sort, nei- 
 ther cared they for thyngs made of Steele and 
 yron, which we often shewed them in our armour 
 which they made no wonder at ; and in behold- 
 ing them they onely asked the arte, of making 
 them ; the like they did at our glasses, w^hich, 
 when they beheld, they suddenly laug;ht, and 
 gave them us againe. They are very liberal, 
 for they give that W'hich they haue ; w^e became 
 great friends with these, and one day we entred 
 into the haven with our ship, whereas before we 
 rode a league oif at sea, by reason of the contrary 
 weather. They came in great companies of their 
 small boats unto the ship with their faces all 
 bepainted with diuers colours, shewing us that 
 it w^as a signe of ioy, bringing us of their vic- 
 tuals, they made signes unto us where we might 
 safest ride in the hauen for the safeguard of our 
 ship keeping still our company, and after we 
 were come to an anker, we bestowed 15 dayes in 
 prouiding ourselues many necessary things, 
 whither euery day the people repaired to see our 
 ship, bringing their wiues with them, whereof 
 they were veiy ielous ; and they themselves en- 
 tring a board the ship and staying there a good 
 space caused their wdues to stay in their boats, 
 and for all the entreatie we could make, ofFring 
 
154 APPENDIX 
 
 to giue them diners things, we could neuer ob- 
 taine that they would suffer them to comeaborde 
 our ship. And oftentimes one of the two kings 
 comming with his queene, and many gentlemen 
 for their pleasure to see us, they all stayed on the 
 shore 200 paces from us, sending us a small boat 
 to giue us intelligence of their comming, saying 
 they would come and see our ship ; this they did 
 in token of safety, and as soone as they had an- 
 swere from us, they came immediately, and hau- 
 ing staled a while to behold it, they wondred at 
 hearing the cries and noyses of the Mariners 
 The Queene and her maids staled in a very light 
 boat, at an Hand a quarter of a league off, while 
 the King abode a long space in our ship uttering 
 diuers conceits with gestures, viewing with great 
 admiration all the furniture of the Shippe, de- 
 manding the property of euery thing particularly 
 He tooke likewise great pleasure in beholding 
 our apparell, and in tasting our meats, and so 
 courteously taking his leave departed. And 
 sometimes our men staying 2 or 3 daies on a little 
 Hand neere the Shippe for diuers necessaries, 
 (as it is the use of seamen,) he returned with 7 
 or 8 of his gentlemen to see what we did, and 
 asked of us oftentimes if we meant to make any 
 long abode there, offering us of their prouision ; 
 
RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 155 
 
 ihen the King drawing his bow and running up 
 and down with his gentlemen, made much sport 
 to gratifie our men : we were oftentimes within 
 the land five or six leagues, which we found as 
 pleasant as is possible to declare, very apt for 
 any kind of husbandry, of Corne, Wine and Oyle 
 for that there are plaines twentie-five or thirtie 
 leagues broad, open and without any impediment, 
 of trees of such fruitfulnesse, that any seed being 
 sowen therein, wil bring forth most excellent 
 fruit. We entered afterwards into the woods, 
 which we found so great and thicke, that any 
 army were it neuer so great might have hid it 
 selfe therein, the trees whereof are okes, cipresse 
 trees, and other sortes unknowen in Europe. 
 We found Pome appil, damson trees, and nut 
 trees, and many other sortes of fruit differing 
 from ours ; there are beasts in great abundance, 
 as harts, deere, luzernes, and other kinds which 
 they take with their nets and bowes which are 
 their chief weapons, the arrowes which they use 
 are made of great cunning, and instead of yron, 
 they head them with Hint, with jasper stone and 
 hard marble, and other sharp stones which they 
 use instead of yron to cut trees, and to make 
 their boates of one whole piece of wood making 
 it hollow with great and wonderful art, wherein 
 
156 APPENDIX. 
 
 10 or 12 men may sit commodiously, their oares 
 are short and broad at the end, and they use 
 them in the sea without any danger, and by 
 maine force of armes, with as great speediness 
 as they lift themselves. We saw their Houses 
 made in circular or round forme 10 or 12 paces 
 in compasse, made with halfe circles of Timber, 
 separate one from another without any order of 
 building, couered with mattes of Straw wrought 
 cunningly together, which saue them from the 
 winde and raine; and if they had the order of 
 building and perfect skill of workmanship as we 
 have, there were no doubt but that they would 
 also make eftsoons great and stately buildings. 
 For all the sea coastes are ful of clear and glis- 
 tering stones and alabaster, and therefore it is 
 ful of good hauens and harboroughs for Shippes. 
 They moove the foresaid Houses from one place 
 to another, according to the commodity of the place 
 and season wherein they wil make their abode ; 
 and only taking off the mattes they haue other 
 Houses builded incontinent. The Father and 
 the whole Family dwell together in one house 
 in great number, in some of them we saw 25 or 
 30 persons. They feede as the other doe afore- 
 said, of pulse which grow in that Country, with 
 better order of husbandry than in the others. 
 
RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 157 
 
 They observe in their sowing the course of the 
 Moone and the rising of certaine Starres, and 
 divers other customs spoken of by antiquity. 
 Moreover they hue by hunting and fishing. They 
 hve long and are seldom sicke, and if they 
 chance to fall sicke at any time, they heal 
 themselves with fire without any phisician, and 
 they say that they die for very age. They 
 are very pitlfull and charitable towards their 
 neighbours, they make great lamentations in 
 their adversitie, and in their miserie, the kin- 
 red reckon up all their felicitie. At their de- 
 parture out of life, they use mourning mixt with 
 singing, which continueth for a long space. 
 This is as much as we could learne of them. This 
 Land is situate in the Paralele of Rome in 41 
 degrees and 2 terces, but somewhat more cold 
 by accidentall causes and not of nature, (as I 
 will declare unto your highnesse elsewhere,) de- 
 scribing at this present the situation of the fore- 
 said country, which lieth east and west. I say 
 that the mouth of the haven lieth open to the 
 south halfe a league broad, and being entred 
 within it betweene the east and the north it 
 stretcheth twelve leagues, where it wareth broad- 
 er and broader, and rnaketh a gulfe about 20 
 leagues in compasse, wherein are five small 
 14 
 
158 APPENDIX. 
 
 islands very fruitful and pleasant, full of hie and 
 broad trees among the which islandes any great 
 nauie may ride safe without any feare of tempest 
 or other danorer. Afterwards turninsf towards 
 the south in the entring into the hauen, on both 
 sides there are most pleasant hils, with many 
 riuers of most cleare water falling into the sea. 
 In the middest of this entrance there is a rocke 
 of free stone, growing by nature, apt to build any 
 castle or fortresse there for the keeping of the 
 haven. The lift of May being furnished with 
 all things necessarie, we departed from the said 
 coaste, keeping along in the sight thereof, and wee 
 sailed 150 leagues, finding it alwayes after one 
 maner, but the land somewhat higher with cer- 
 taine mountaines, all which beare a shew of 
 minerall matter, wee sought not to land there in 
 any place, because the weather serued our turne 
 for sailing ; but wee suppose that it was like 
 the former, the coaste ranne eastward for the 
 space of fiftie leagues. And trending afterwards 
 to the north, wee found another land high full 
 of thicke woods, the trees whereof were firres, 
 cipresses, and such like as are wont to grow in 
 cold countreys. The people differ much from 
 the other, and looke howe much the former seem- 
 ed to be courteous and gentle, so much were 
 
RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 159 
 
 these full of rudenesse and ill raaners, and so 
 barbarous that by no signes that euer we could 
 make, we could have any kind of traffic with 
 them. They clothe themselues with beares 
 skinnes and luzernes, and scales and other 
 beastes skinnes. Their foode, as farre as we 
 could perceiue, repairing often unto their dwell- 
 ings, we suppose to be by hunting and fishing, 
 and of certaine fruits, which are a kind of roots 
 which the earth yeeldeth of her own accord. 
 They haue no graine, neither saw we any kind 
 of signe of tillage, neither is the land for the bar- 
 rennesse thereof, apt to beare fruit or seed. If 
 at any time we desired by exchange to haue 
 any of their commodities, they used to come to 
 the sea shore upon certaine craggy rocks, and 
 we standing in our boats, they let downe with 
 a rope what it pleased them to give us, crying 
 continually that we should not approch to the 
 land, demanding immediately the exchange, tak- 
 ing nothing but kniues, fish-hooks, and tooles to 
 cut withall, neyther did they make any account 
 of our courtesie. And when we had nothing 
 left to exchange with them, when we departed 
 from them, the people shewed all signes of dis- 
 courtesie and disdaine, as were possible for any 
 creature to inuent. We were in despight of 
 
160 APPENDIX. 
 
 them 2 or 3 leagues within the land, beinor in 
 numbei twenty-five armed men of us: And 
 when we went on shore they shot at us with 
 their bowes, making great outcries, and after- 
 wards iled into the woods. We found not in 
 this land any thing notable or of importance, 
 sauing very great wood and certaine hills, they 
 may haue some mineral matter in them, because 
 wee saw many of them haue headstones of copper 
 hanging at their eares. We departed from 
 thence, keeping our course north east along the 
 coaste, which we found more pleasant champion 
 and without woods, with high mountains within 
 the land ; continuing directly along the coast for 
 the space of fiftie leagues, we discouered 32 
 islands, lying al neere the land, being small and 
 pleasaftt to the view, high, and having many 
 turnings and windings between them, making 
 many fair harboroughs and chanels as they doe 
 in the gulf of Venice, in Sclauonia and Dal- 
 matia, we had no knowledge or acquaintance 
 with the people : we suppose they are of the 
 same maners and nature as the others are. Sayl- 
 ing north east for the space of 150 leagues, we 
 approched the land that was in times past dis- 
 couered by the Britons, which is in fiftie de- 
 grees. Hauing now spent all our prouision and 
 
RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 161 
 
 victuals, and hauing discouered about 700 leagues 
 and more of new countreys, and being furnished 
 with water and wood, we concluded to returne 
 into France. Touching the religion of this peo- 
 ple which we have found, for want of their lan- 
 guage we could not understand, neither by signes 
 nor gestures, that they had any religion or laws 
 at all, or that they did acknowledge any first 
 cause or mouer, neither that they worship the 
 heauen or starres, the sunne or moone, or other 
 planets, and much lesse whether they be idola- 
 ters, neither could we learne whether that they 
 used any kind of sacrifices or other adorations, 
 neither in their villages haue they any temples 
 or houses of prayer ; we suppose that they haue 
 no religion at all, and that they liue at their 
 owne libertie. And, that all this proceedeth of 
 ignorance, for that they are very easie to be per- 
 suaded; and all that they see us Christians doe 
 in our diuine service, they did the same w^th the 
 like imitation as they saw us to doe it. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 14* 
 
/Ct- 
 
/6V 
 
 TDiii tlie Basso -Kclievo in tiic lidiMinl,! 
 
 ■,'.,.(• ,r.ii..! ir W i-,-l..: ,. ,■ 
 
/^. 
 
 THE 
 
 ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OME men choose to live in 
 crowded cities ; — others are 
 pleased with the peaceful quiet 
 of a country farm ; while some 
 love to roam through wild for- 
 ests, and make their homes in 
 the wilderness. The man of 
 whom I shall now speak, was 
 of this last class. Perhaps you 
 never heard of Daniel Boone, the 
 Kentucky rifleman. If not, then I 
 have a strange and interesting story 
 to tell you. 
 If, when a child was born, we knew 
 that he was to become a remarkable man, 
 the time and place of his birth would, 
 perhaps, be always remembered. But as this can 
 not be known, great mistakes are often made on 
 these points. As to the time when Daniel Boone 
 
14 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 was born, there is no difficulty ; but people have 
 fallen into many blunders about the place. Some 
 haA^e said that he was born in England, before his 
 parents left that country ; others that he came into 
 this world during the passage of his parents across 
 the Atlantic. One has told us that he was born in 
 Virginia ; another in Maryland ; wdiile many have 
 stated that he was a native of North Carolina. 
 These are all mistakes. Daniel Boone was bom 
 in the year 1746, in Bucks county, in the state of 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 From some cause or other, when the boy was 
 but three years old, his parents moved from this 
 home, and settled upon the Schuylkill river, not far 
 from the town of Reading. Here they lived for 
 ten years ; and it was during this time that their 
 son Daniel began to show his passion for hunting. 
 He was scarcely able to carry a gun, when he 
 was shooting all the squirrels, rackoons, and even 
 wild-cats (it is said), that he could find in that re- 
 gion. As he grew older, his courage increased, 
 and then we find him amusing himself with higher 
 game. Other lads in the neighborhood were soon 
 taught by him the use of the rifle, and were then 
 able to join him in his adventures. On one occa- 
 sion, they all started out for a hunt, and after 
 amusing themselves till it was almost dark, were 
 returning homeward, when suddenly a wild cry 
 was heard in the w^oods. The boys screamed out, 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 15 
 
 "A panther ! «a panther !" and ran off as fast as 
 they could. Boone stood firmly, looking around 
 for the animal. It was a panther indeed. His 
 eye lighted upon him just in the act of spring- 
 ing toward him : in an instant he levelled his rifle, 
 
 o 
 
 and shot him through the heart. 
 
 But this sort of sport was not enough for him. 
 He seemed resolved to go away from men, and 
 live in the forests with these animals. One morn- 
 ing he started off as usual, with his rifle and 
 dog. Night came on, hut Daniel did not re- 
 turn to his home. Another day and night passed 
 away, and still the boy did not make his appear- 
 ance. His parents were now greatly alarmed. 
 The neighbors joined them in making search for 
 the lad. x\fter wandering about a great while, 
 they at length saw smoke rising from a cabin in 
 the distance. Upon reaching h, they found the 
 boy. The floor of the cabin was covered with the 
 skins of such animals as he had slain, and pieces 
 of meat were roasting before the fire for his sup- 
 per. Here, at a distance of three miles from any 
 settlement, he had built his cabin of sods and 
 branches, and sheltered himself in the wilderness. 
 
 It was while his father was living on the head- 
 waters of the Schuylkill, that young Boone re- 
 ceived, so far as we know, all his education. Short 
 mdeed were his schoolboy days. It happened that 
 an Irish schoolmaster strolled into the settlement, 
 
16 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 and, by the advice of Mr. Boone and other parents, 
 opened a school in the neighborhood. It was not 
 then as it is now. Good schoolhouses were not 
 scattered over the land ; nor were schoolmasters 
 always able to teach their pupils. The school- 
 house where the boys of this settlement went was 
 a log cabin, built in the midst of the woods. The 
 schoolmaster was a strange man : sometimes good- 
 humored, and then indulo;inor the lads ; sometimes 
 surly and ill-natured, and then beating them se- 
 verely. It was his usual custom, after hearing the 
 first lessons of the morning, to allow the children 
 to be out for a half hour at play, during which time 
 he strolled off to refresh himself from his labors. 
 He always Avalked in the same direction, and the 
 boys thought that after his return, when they 
 were called in, he Avas generally more cruel than 
 ever. They were whipped more severely, and 
 oftentimes without any cause. They observed 
 this, but did not know the meaning of it. One 
 morning young Boone asked that he might go out, 
 and had scarcely left the schoolroom, Avhen he saw 
 a squirrel running over the trunk of a fallen tree. 
 True to his nature, he instantly gave chase, until 
 at last the squirrel darted into a bower of vines 
 and branches. Boone thrust his hand in, and, to his 
 surprise, laid of hold of a bottle of wliiskey. This 
 was in the direction of his master's morning walks, 
 and he thought now that he understood the secret of 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 17 
 
 much of his ill-nature. He returned to the school- 
 room ; but when they were dismissed for that day, 
 he told some of the larger boys of his discovery. 
 Their plan was soon arranged. Early the next 
 morning a bottle of whiskey, having tartar emetic 
 in it, was placed in the bower, and the other bottle 
 thrown away. At the usual hour, the lads were 
 sent out to play, and the master started on his 
 walk. But their play was to come afterward : 
 they longed for the master to return. At length 
 they were called in, and in a little time saw the 
 success of their experiment. The master began 
 to look pale and sick, yet still went on with his 
 work. Several boys were called up, one after the 
 other, to recite lessons, and all whipped soundly, 
 whether right or wrong. At last young Boone 
 was called out to answer questions in arithme- 
 tic. He came forward with his slate and pencil, 
 and the master began : " If you subtract six from 
 nine, what remains ?" said he. " Three, sir," said 
 Boone. " Very good," said the master ; " now let 
 us come to fractions. If you take three quarters 
 from a whole number, what remains ?" — " The 
 whole, sir," answered Boone. " You blockhead !" 
 cried the master, beating him, " you stupid little 
 fool, how can you show that?" — " If I take one 
 bottle of whiskey," said Boone, " and put in its 
 place another in which I have mixed an emetic, 
 the whole will remain, if nobody drinks it !" • The 
 2* 
 
18 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Irishman, dreadfully sick, ^vas now doubly enraged, 
 He seized Boone, and commenced beating him : 
 the children shouted and roared ; the scuffle con- 
 tinued, until Boone knocked the master down upon 
 the floor, and rushed out of the room. It was a 
 day of freedom now for the lads. The story soon 
 ran through the neighborhood ; Boone was rebuked 
 by his parents, but the schoolmaster was dismissed, 
 and thus ended the boy's education. 
 
 Thus freed from school, he now returned more 
 ardently than ever to his favorite pursuit. His 
 dog and rifle were his constant companions, and 
 day after day he started from home, only to 
 roam through the forests. Hunting seemed to 
 be the only business of his life ; and he was never 
 so happy as when at night he came home laden 
 with game. He was an untiring wanderer. 
 
 I do not know but that this passion for roaming 
 was in some degree inherited by Daniel Boone. 
 His father had already had three homes : one in 
 England, one in Bucks county, and another on the 
 Schuylkill ; and he now thought of removing fur- 
 ther. It is said that the passion of Daniel for 
 hunting was one cause which prompted his father 
 to think of this. Land was becoming scarce, the 
 neighborhood a little crowded, and game less 
 abundant ; and, to mend matters, he began to cast 
 his eyes around for a new home. He was not long 
 in choosing one. He had heard of a rich and 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 19 
 
 beautiful country on the banks of the Yadkin river 
 in North Carolina, and he determined that this 
 should be the next resting-place for him and his 
 household. 
 
 All things were made ready as soon as possible, 
 and the journey commenced. It was a fine spring . 
 morning when the father started for his new home, 
 with his wife and children, his flocks and herds. 
 Their journey lay hundreds of miles through a 
 trackless wilderness ; yet with cheerful and fear- 
 less hearts they pressed onward. When hungry, 
 they feasted upon venison and wild turkeys (for 
 Daniel, with his rifle, was in company) ; when 
 thirsty, they found cool springs of water to refresh 
 them by the way ; when wearied at night, they 
 laid themselves down and slept under the wide- 
 spreading branches of the forest. At length they 
 reached the land they looked for, and the father 
 found it to be all that he expected. The woods in 
 that region were unbroken ; no man seemed yet to 
 have found them. Land was soon cleared, a cabin 
 built, and the father in a little time found himself 
 once more happily settled with his family. 
 
 The old man with his other sons went busily to the 
 work of making a farm. As for Daniel, they knew 
 it was idle to expect his help in such enipkyment, 
 and therefore left him to roam about with his 
 rifle. This was a glorious country for the youth ; 
 wild woods were all around him, and the game, 
 
20 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 having not yet learned to fear the crack of the rifle, 
 wandered fearlessly through them. This he thought 
 was, of all places, the home for him. I hope you 
 will not think that he was the idle and useless boy 
 of the family, for it was not so. While the farm 
 was improving, Daniel was supplying the family 
 with provisions. The table at home was always 
 filled with game, and they had enough and to spare. 
 Their house became known as a warm-hearted 
 and hospitable abode ; for the wayfaring wanderer, 
 when lost in the woods, was sure to find here a 
 welcome, a shelter, and an abundance. Then, too, 
 if money was wanted in the family, the peltries 
 of the animals shot by Daniel supplied it : so 
 that he was, in a large degTee, the supporter 
 of the household. In this way years rolled on- 
 ward — the farm still enlarging and improving, 
 Daniel still hunting, and the home one of constant 
 peace, happiness, and plenty. 
 
 At length the story of the success and comfort 
 of the family brought neighbors around them. Dif- 
 ferent parts of the forests began to be cleared ; 
 smoke was soon seen rising from new cabins ; 
 and the sharp crack of other rifles than Daniel's 
 was sometimes heard in the morning. This grieved 
 him sadly. Most people would have been pleased 
 to find neighbors in the loneliness of the woods ; 
 but what pleased others did not please him. They 
 were crowding upon him; they were driving away 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 21 
 
 his game : this was his trouble. But, after all, 
 there Avas one good farmer who came into the re- 
 gion and made his settlement ; which settlement, 
 as it turned out, proved a happy thing for Daniel. 
 This was a very worthy man named Bryan. 
 He cleared his land, built his cabin upon a sloping 
 aill, not very far from Mr. Boone's, and before 
 a great while, by dint of industry, had a good farm 
 of more than a hundred acres. This farm was 
 beautifully situated. A pretty stream of water 
 almost encircled it. On the banks of the Schuyl- 
 kill, Daniel Boone found all his education, such 
 as it was ; on the banks of the Yadkin he found 
 something far better. I must tell you now of a 
 veiy strange adventure. 
 
 One evening, with another young friend, he 
 started out upon what is called a '■'' jirc-huntP Per- 
 haps you do not know what this means. I will 
 explain it to you. Two people are always neces- 
 sary' for a fire-hunt. One goes before, carrying a 
 blazing torch of pitch-pine wood (or lightwood, as 
 it is called in the southern country), while the other 
 follows behind with his rifle. In this way the two 
 hunters move through the forests. When an ani- 
 mal is startled, he will stand gazing at the light, 
 and his eyes may be seen shining distinctly : this 
 is called '^shining the eyesP The hunter with the 
 rifle, thus seeing him, while the other shines him, 
 levels his gun with steady aim, and has a fair shot. 
 
22 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 This mode of hunting is still practised in many 
 parts of our country, and is everywhere known as 
 a jire-hunt. 
 
 Boone, with his companion, started out upon such 
 a hunt, and very soon reached the woods skirting 
 the lower end of ^Ir. Bryan's farm. It seems they 
 were on horseback, Boone being behind with the 
 rifle. They had not gone far, when his companion 
 reined up his horse, and two eyes were seen 
 distinctly shining. Boone levelled his rifle, but 
 something prevented his firing. The animal darted 
 off. Boone leaped from his horse, left his com- 
 panion, and instantly dashed after it. It was too 
 dark to see plainly, still he pursued ; he was close 
 upon its track, when a fence coming in the way, 
 the animal leaped it Avith a clear bound. Boone 
 climbed over as fast as he could with his rifle, but 
 the game had got ahead. Nothing daunted by this, 
 he pushed on, until he found himself at last not very 
 far from Mr. Bryan's home. But the animal was 
 gone. It was a strange chase. He determhicd to go 
 into Mr Bry^an's house, and tell his adventure. As 
 he drew near, the dogs raised a loud barking, the 
 master came out, bade him welcome, and carried 
 him into the house. Mr. Bryan had scarcely in- 
 troduced him to his family as " the son of his 
 neighbor Boone," when suddenly the door of the 
 room was burst open, and in rushed a little lad of 
 seven, followed by a girl of sixteen years, crying 
 
DAXIEL BOOXE. 23 
 
 out, « father ' father ! sister is frightened to death ! 
 She went down to the river, and was chased by a 
 panther !" The hunter and his game had met. 
 There stood Boone, leaning upon his rifle, and 
 Rebecca Brj^an before him, gasping for breath. 
 From that moment he continued to pursue it ; 
 Farmer Bryan's house became a favorite resort 
 for him ; he loved it as well as the woods. The 
 business was now changed : Rebecca Bryan com- 
 pletely shined his eyes ; and after a time, to the 
 great joy of themselves and both families, Daniel 
 Boone and Rebecca Bryan were married. It 
 proved, as you will see, a very happy marriage to 
 both parties. 
 
 Being now a married man, it became Daniel 
 Boone's duty to seek a new home for himself. In 
 a little time, therefore, he left his wife, and wan- 
 dered into the unsettled parts of North Carolina in 
 search of one. After moving about for some 
 time, he found, upon the head-waters of the 
 Yadkin, a rich soil, covered with a hea\y and once 
 more unbroken forest. " Here," thought Daniel 
 Boone, " is the resting-place for me ; here Rebecca 
 Bryan and myself may be happy : this shall be 
 our home." He returned to his wife, and she, 
 with a cheerful heart, joined in all his plans. 
 With tears in her eyes, she bade farewell to her 
 friends ; yet, with a light spirit, she started off 
 with her husband. A clearing in the woods was 
 
24 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 soon made, a log cabin of his own soon built, and 
 a portion of ground planted. Boone seems now to 
 have thought that he must do something morethan 
 use his rifle. He was to make a home for his wife ; 
 and busied himself, accordingly, in enlarging his 
 farm as fast as he could, and industriously cul- 
 tivating it. Still, on his busiest day, he would 
 find a leisure hour to saunter with his gun to 
 the woods, and was sure never to return with- 
 out game. His own table Avas loaded M-ith it, 
 as Avhen at his father's, and his house, like his 
 father's, soon became known as a warm and kind 
 shelter for the wandering traveller. In this indus- 
 trious and quiet way of farming and hunting, years 
 were spent, and Daniel Boone w^as contented and 
 happy. Several little children were now added to 
 his group ; and, with his wife, his children, and his 
 rifle, for companions, he felt that all was well. 
 
 But his peace was at length disturbed once more. 
 His old troubles pursued him ; men again began to 
 come near. The crash of falling trees was heard, 
 as the new settlers levelled the forests ; huts were 
 seen springing up all around him ; other hunters 
 were roaming through the woods, and other dogs 
 than his were heard barking. This was more 
 than he was willing to bear. Happy as he had 
 made his home, he determined to leave it, and find 
 another in the wilderness, where he could have 
 that wilderness to himself. For some time he was 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 25 
 
 at a loss to know where to go ; yet his heart was 
 fixed in the determination to move. The circum- 
 stances which pointed him to his new home, and 
 where that new home was made, you may learn in 
 the next chapter. 
 
 'i 
 
26 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 C H A F 1 E R II. 
 
 Y young friends all know where 
 the state of Kentucky is situ- 
 ated. It is hardly necessary for 
 
 was an unbroken wilderness. 
 
 It \vas in the year 1754 that 
 a white man first visited the 
 country of Kentucky. This was 
 James ]\I'Bride. In company with 
 several others during that year, he 
 was passing down the Ohio, when 
 ')yy)^ he discovered the mouth of Ken- 
 il //3w ^ucky river, and made a landing. Near 
 r^'L^ the spot where he landed, he cut upon 
 QGy Q^ a tree the first letters of his name ; and 
 these letters, it is said, could be seen and distinctly 
 lead for many years afterward. With his com- 
 panions, he wandered through the wilderness ; the 
 country struck them all as being remarkably beau- 
 tiful. It is not wonderful, then, that when they 
 returned home, they were filled with fine stories 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 27 
 
 about the new region. They declared that it was 
 "the best tract of land in North America, and 
 probably in the world." 
 
 In spite of their pleasant stories, however, it was 
 a long time before any one was disposed to follow 
 in their track. i\.t length, Doctor Walker, of Vir- 
 ginia, with a number of friends, started upon a 
 western tour of discovery. Some say that he was 
 in search of the Ohio river particularly ; others 
 that he Avent merely to collect strange plants and 
 flowers. Be this as it may, he with his party 
 wandered through Powell's Valley, and passed the 
 mountains at what is called the Cumberland Gap. 
 They then crossed the Cumberland river, and roam- 
 ing on through the forests, at length, after much 
 fatigue and suffering, reached the Big Sandy. The 
 country was beautiful, yet they were too much 
 worn out to go further, and from this point began 
 to return homeward. They had suffered more than 
 M'Br-ide, and therefore their story was not so bright 
 as his ; yet they gave a very pleasant account of 
 the new country. 
 
 No one yet, however, seemed ready to make 
 his home in Kentucky ; and accident at last seems 
 to have thrown one man into that country, whose 
 story, upon his return, made some anxious to go 
 there. This was John Finley, a backwoodsman 
 of North Carolina. He Avas in the habit of roving 
 about and trading with the Indians. In the year 
 
28 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 1767, lie, with certain companions as fearless as 
 himself, led on from place to place by the course 
 of trade, wandered far into Kentucky. Here he 
 remained for some time. It was a very beautiful, 
 yet, as he learned also, a very dangerous country. 
 No Indian tribe lived there, but all the tribes 
 roamed over it as a hunting-ground. Upon these 
 hunts, the fierce and warlike people would often 
 meet and wage their bloody battles. These fights 
 were so frequent and so awful, that the region was 
 known by the name of the " Dark and Bloody 
 Ground." In spite of danger, Finley lived there, 
 until at last the traders and the Indians began to 
 quarrel, and, for safety's sake, he was forced to 
 run off. He returned to North Carolina, filled with 
 wonderful stories. Sights like those on the " Dark 
 and Bloody Ground," were nowhere to be seen. 
 The land was rich, and covered with trees and 
 flowers ; there were lofty mountains, beautiful val- 
 leys, and clear streams, throughout it. Then he 
 spoke of the strange caves in the mountains ; of 
 curious salt springs ; of the foot-prints of men to 
 be seen distinctly upon the solid rocks ; of the 
 strange figures of huge animals on the sides of the 
 high clifis. Game of all sorts was abundant, from 
 the bufialo down to the partridge. There was no 
 country (he declared) like Kain-tuck-kee* His 
 • This was the Indian name for the country. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 29 
 
 tale was so wonderful, that people could not well 
 help listening to it. 
 
 Whether John Finley was led there by a knowl- 
 edge of the man's character, or whether it was an 
 accident, it so happened, that about a year after liis 
 return, he wandered into the neighborhood of Dan- 
 iel Boone's home. It was not long before he fell 
 in with Boone, and completely charmed him with 
 his stories. Boone had known some sport in the 
 forests himself, but the adventures of Finley were 
 to him marvellous. He was so much pleased with 
 the man, that he invited him, as it was now winter, 
 to come to his house, and make his home there 
 through the season. The invitation was gladly 
 accepted ; and in the cabin of Boone, again and 
 again was the wild beauty of the " Dark and Bloody 
 Ground" laid before him. There was no end to 
 Finley's stories of this region. The wind whistled 
 without, but the fire blazed cheerfully within ; and 
 here they sat, on many a night, almost till dawn, 
 Finley talking, and Boone listening. The end of 
 all this was, that they determined, when spring 
 opened, to go to Kentucky. Boone knew that 
 there were hardships and perils in the way, and 
 Finley had practically felt them ; but what were 
 dangers or difficulties to these fearless men ? The 
 first of May was agreed upon as the day for start- 
 ing, and Finley was then again to meet Boone at 
 his house. 
 
 3* 
 
30 THE ADVEXTDRES OF 
 
 It is not Strange that other bold men, who 
 heard Finley's stories, were seized with the same 
 desire for going west. Indeed, Boone helped to 
 give them that desire, knowing that a few brave 
 spirits would be of great service in the new coun- 
 try. He talked, therefore, warmly of the comforts 
 of a new home in the forest, where there was an 
 abundance of game, and a complete absence of 
 towns and villages. Accordingly, on the first of 
 May, 1769, when Finley repaired to Boone's house, 
 he found four others ready for the adventure : these 
 were John Stewart, Joseph Holden, James Monay, 
 and William Cool. The people in the neighbor- 
 hood, learning what was going on, had likewise 
 gathered to look with surprise upon these six men. 
 What could prompt men to leave the comforts of 
 their quiet homes, and wander off into the wilder- 
 ness ? They surely were crazy. Boone Mas much 
 beloved as a kind neighbor, and they mourned most 
 over his madness. Nothing daunted by all this, 
 they were then ready for a start, and were now on 
 the point of leaving. We are told that, with tears 
 in his eyes, Daniel Boone kissed his wife and chil- 
 dren ; and if the story be true, I love him the more 
 for it. His spirit was beating for his new hunting- 
 forests ; he could face all the dangers of the 
 " Dark and Bloody Ground," but then it was doubt- 
 ful whether he was not parting with his wife and 
 children for ever. At all events, he was leaving 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 31 
 
 them for months, perhaps for years — he knew 
 not how long — and who can wonder that tears stood 
 in his eyes ? Each man shouldered his rifle, 
 shot-bag, po\vder-horn, and knapsack, and off 
 they started — every neighbor straining his eyes 
 after them as far as he could see, as the men upon 
 whom he was looking for the last time. 
 
 For two or three days they saw nothing new, for 
 they were passing over their old hunting-grounds. 
 After this, they came to a wild and trackless region, 
 and saw from time to time the lofty ridge of moun- 
 tains which separated them from the western coun- 
 <«y. In two days more, the provisions with which 
 tney had started gave out, and the first thing to be 
 done was to find a fresh supply. Accordingly they 
 halted, chose a suitable spot for their camp, and 
 part of them commenced building it of logs and 
 branches ; the others went into the woods in search 
 of game. It was impossible for such men to starve 
 in such a region ; game was abundant. The hunt- 
 ers returned toward night, with several deer and 
 wild turkeys. The camp was finished, a bright 
 fire was burning, and in a little time the venison 
 was dressed, cooked, and eaten. The supper was 
 scarcely finished, when they saw dark clouds gath- 
 ering, and presently they were visited by a tremen- 
 dous thunder-storm. The sharp lightning flashed 
 through the woods, and the rain poured down in tor- 
 rents ; yet, in their €amp they fearlessly sheltered 
 
32 THE ADVENTURES OP 
 
 themselves, the branches covering them from the 
 rain. A man can scarcely be placed during a thun- 
 der-storm in a more dangerous place than a forest : 
 every tree is a mark for the ligiitning ; yet these 
 men were calm and self-possessed, and were mer- 
 cifully protected. 
 
 The stonn having passed over, they made their 
 arrangements for the night. For safety's sake, two 
 men were to keep a constant watch, w^hile the 
 others slept ; and in this duty of watching, they 
 were to take timis. About midnight, while Boone 
 and Holden were keeping the watch, a sharp slii-ill 
 crj' was heard in the woods. They sprang to their 
 feet. '^ What noise is that ?" said Holden. The 
 sound was familiar to Boone. " Be still," said 
 he ; " it is only a panther; come along with me." 
 Moving cautiously from the camp, they listened 
 again for the cry. Once more they heard it. 
 Creeping through the woods in the direction of the 
 sound, they at length saw through the darkness 
 the wild, glaring eyes of the animal. Boone lev- 
 elled his rifle with steady aim, and fired. With a 
 wild yell the panther fell to the ground, and began 
 to retreat. Both were satisfied that the ball had 
 struck him, and returned again to the camp. The 
 crack of the rifle had waked their companions ; the 
 adventure was made known to them, and they went 
 quietly to sleep again, satisfied that for the rest of 
 the night at least that panther would not disturb them. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 33 
 
 The next day was a very busy one. Finding 
 game so plenty in the neighborhood, they deter- 
 mined to lay in a good supply. Part of them were 
 therefore out in the woods, hunting, while the rest 
 were in the camp, smoking, drying, and packmg 
 the venison for the journey. Fatigued with these 
 labors, when night came they gladly laid them- 
 selves down, and, like wearied men, slept soundly. 
 By the first ray of the morning's light the camp 
 was stirring. Shouldering their rifles and knap- 
 sacks, they started on their way. In a little time 
 they found a dead panther. Boone declared that 
 this was his panther ; the animal was killed with 
 one ball, and by comparing that ball with those m 
 his shot-bag, he found they were of the same size. 
 In two or three days they reached the foot of the 
 mountains, and began to ascend. Their journey 
 was now rough and wearisome, and they made 
 slow progress. To any men but these, the moun- 
 tains might have proved impassable ; but they were 
 bent upon finding the new hunting-grounds of Ken- 
 tucky, and nothing could keep them back. After 
 climbing the hills day after day, they found once 
 more that their provisions were gone, and were 
 again forced to hah. Their camp was buiU on the 
 side of the mountain, and their rifles easily supplied 
 their wants. The journey was rigorously renewed, 
 and after many days of further struggling, they at 
 length found themselves on one of the tops of the 
 
34 THE ADVENTURES OT 
 
 Allegany ridge. Here ihey were, upon Cumber 
 land mountain. At this place they halted once more, 
 to look down upon the magnificent prospect which 
 was spread out before them. This was their first 
 view of the new region, and they felt that it was 
 all that Finley had described it to be. It was in- 
 deed a glorious country. The land was covered 
 with trees and flowers ; there were the rolling 
 hills, and the beautiful valleys, and the clear 
 sparkling streams, of which he had spoken. 
 
 The prospect was too beautiful to allow them to 
 tarry long : they panted to be in that country. 
 With more earnest desires than ever, they com- 
 menced descending the mountains. This part of 
 the journey was comparatively easy. In a few 
 days now they reached the western base of the 
 hills, and entered a lovely plain. Here, for the 
 first time, the new hunters saw the finest of 
 western game — a herd of buffaloes. From the skirt 
 of the wood at the end of the plain, a countless 
 troop of these animals came rushing over it. The 
 men were delighted ; they had heard of these noble 
 beasts of the forest, but none of them, except Fin- 
 ley, had ever seen one. As the mass came 
 tramping toward them, they stood gazing in as- 
 tonishment. Finley, who knew that men were 
 sometimes trampled to death by these moving 
 troops, kept his eye steadily upon the herd until 
 the foremost was within rifle-shot ; he then levelled 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 35 
 
 his gun, and the leader fell dead. With a wild 
 bellow the herd parred on each side of the fallen 
 animal, and went scampering through the plain. 
 There seemed no end to the number, as they still 
 came rushing from the wood. The mass appeared 
 closing again in a solid body, when he seized 
 Ilolden's rifle, and shot another. Now they were 
 completly routed ; branching off on the two sides 
 of the plain, they went bellowing and tearing past 
 them. •' An amazing country, this !" cried Boone ; 
 " who ever beheld such an abundance ?" The 
 camp was once more soon built, a blazing fire 
 made, and, for the first time in their lives, five of 
 tliese men sat down to a supper of bufialo-meat. 
 They talked of their new country, the quan- 
 tity of game, and how joyously they would roam 
 through the huge forests, until the night had worn 
 far away. 
 
 The next morning, after breakfast, they packed 
 up such portions of the animals as they could 
 readily carry, and resumed their march. In a little 
 time they reached Red river. Here Finley began 
 to feel more at home, for on this river he had lived. 
 Following the course of the stream, ere long they 
 came to the place which had been his trading-post 
 with the Indians. They had been more than a 
 month reaching this point, and, naturally enough, 
 were wearied. Finley, too, could no longer guide 
 them ; and here, for the present, they determined 
 
36 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 to halt again. It was now the seventh day of 
 June. 
 
 As this was to be their headquarters for some 
 time, they built at once a substantial log cabin. 
 They were now fairly in the wilds of Ken- 
 tucky ; and remembering that the whole region 
 was the fighting-gTound of the wandering Indians, 
 the cabin was built not only to protect th^m from the 
 weather, but to answer as a sort of fort against the 
 savages. This shelter being provided, their whole 
 time now was given to hunting and explormg the 
 country. Hunting was a pastime indeed, the game 
 was so abundant. They could look out upon htrds 
 of buffaloes scattered through the canebrakes, 
 browsing upon the leaves of the cane, or cropping 
 the tall grass ; the deer bounded fearlessly by the 
 very door of their hut, and wild turkeys were to 
 be found everywhere. EverA^hing was in a state 
 of nature ; the animals had not yet learned to be 
 afraid of man. Of course, they did not suffer with 
 hunger : provisions of the finest kind were ever in 
 their cabin. But the buffaloes provided them with 
 more than food. From time to time, as they need- 
 ed moccasins for their feet, his skin supplied them ; 
 and when at night they felt the dampness of the 
 weather, his hide was the blanket in which they 
 wrapped themselves and slept soundly. 
 
 The country, as they wandered through it, struck 
 them as beautifid indeed. There were the lofty 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 37 
 
 trees of the forest, with no undergrowth except 
 the cane, the grass, and the flowers. They 
 seemed to have been pLanted by the hand of man at 
 regular distances. Clear streams were seen wind- 
 ing through lovely meadows, surrounded by the 
 gently-sloping hills ; and the fearless buffalo and 
 deer were their companions every hour. In their 
 wanderings they came several times to hard and 
 well-tramped roads. It was by following these 
 that they discovered many of the salt springs or 
 licks where saU is made even now. The roads 
 to these were worn thus hard by the buffaloes 
 and other animals that were in the habit of visiting 
 the springs. 
 
 The place of Finley's old trading-post, where 
 their cabin now stood, seems to have been chosen 
 by him not only as a central point for trade : it was 
 on the side of a finely-sloping hill, and command- 
 ed a good view of the country below. The situa- 
 tion was beautiful. Perhaps he chose it when he 
 was a lonely white man in the wildernes 5, because 
 thence he might readily see the ap;)roach of 
 Indians, and make his escape, or perh ips it was 
 the very beauty of the spot that charmed him. He 
 had a love for the beautiful. One day, he and Boone 
 were standing by the door of the cabin. The 
 wind was sighing in the tops of the forest, and 
 while they were listening to the music, they were 
 looking out upon the beautiful region below ; the 
 4 
 
38 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 grass was green, and the bright flowers turned up 
 their leaves to the sun. " Glorious country!" cried 
 Finley ; " this wilderness does indeed blossom like 
 the rose." — " Yes," replied Boone, " and who 
 vv'ould live amid the barren pine-hills of North Car- 
 olina, to hear the screaming of the jay, and now 
 and then shoot a deer too lean to be eaten ? This 
 is the land for hunters. Here man and beast may 
 grow to their full size." 
 
 In this way, for more than six months, these 
 men fearlessly hunted and roamed through the 
 woods. Contrary to their expectations, through 
 the whole summer they saw no Indians, nor did 
 they meet with any remarkable adventure. The 
 precaution of a nightly w^atch was adopted, but 
 they met with no disturbance from man or beast. 
 They had glorious sport by day, and slept quietly 
 at night. After this, as you will see, they began 
 to meet difficulties. 
 
 On the 22d of December, Boone and Stewart 
 started off, as they had often done before, upon an 
 exploring tour. After wandering several miles, 
 they pressed their way through a piece of thick 
 woods, and came out upon a boundless open forest. 
 Here they found quantities of persimmon-tre..- . 
 loaded with ripe fruit, while clusters of wild gr ^-es 
 covered the vines that were hanging from the lofty 
 branches. Flowers were still in bloom, and scented 
 the air ; herds of animals might be seen through 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 39 
 
 the forest in every direction : add to this that the 
 day was beautiful, and you will not be surprised to 
 learn that they continued to wander — indeed, that 
 they wandered much further than they supposed. 
 It was nearly dark when they reached the Ken- 
 tucky river, and stood looking upon its rippling 
 waters. Perceiving a hill close by, they climbed 
 it, that they might take a better view of the course 
 of the stream. They were now descending, on 
 their way homeward, when suddenly they heard 
 an Indian yell, and out rushed from the canebrake 
 a party of savages. They had no time for re- 
 sistance — indeed, time was nothing ; they were 
 overpowered by numbers. The savages seized 
 them, took away their rifles and ammunition, 
 bound them, and marched them off to their 
 camp. The next morning they started off with 
 their prisoners, the poor fellows not knowing 
 where they were going, or what was to be 
 done to them. They did not know one word of 
 their language, and could therefore learn noth- 
 ing : this much, however, they very well under- 
 stood — that it would not do to show any signs of 
 fear to the Indians ; and therefore they went on 
 cheerfully. In a little time they became better 
 acquainted with their captors, and judged, from 
 certain signs, that the Indians themselves had not 
 determined what was to be done. Part seemed to 
 be for sparing them, part for killing ; still their cheer- 
 
40 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 fulness was the same. This apparent fearlessness 
 deceived the Indians ; they supposed the prisoners 
 were well pleased with their condition, and did not 
 watch them closely. On the seventh night of 
 their march, the savages, as usual, made their 
 camp, and all laid down to sleep. About mid- 
 night, Boone touched Stewart, and waked him : 
 now or never was their time. They rose, groped 
 their way to the rifles, and stole from the camp. 
 They hardly dared to look behind them ; every 
 sound startled them, even the snapping of the twigs 
 under their feet. Fortunately, it was dark, even 
 if the Indians pursued. They wandered all that 
 night and the whole of the next day, when at last, 
 without meeting a man, they reached their own 
 camp. But what was their surprise on finding the 
 camp plundered, and not one of their companions 
 to be seen ? What had become of them ? Perhaps 
 they were prisoners ; possibly they were murdered ; 
 or it might be that they had started back for North 
 Carolina. They were safe, but where were their 
 comrades ? Wearied in body, and tormented with 
 fears for their friends, they commenced preparing 
 for the night. A sound was now heard. They 
 seized their rifles, and stood ready, expecting the 
 Indians. Two men Avere seen indistinctly ap- 
 proaching. " Who comes there ?" cried Boone. 
 " White men and friends," was the answer. Boone 
 knew the voice. In an instant more, his brother 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 41 
 
 Squire Boone, with another man, entered the cabin. 
 These two men had set out from Carolina for the 
 purpose of reaching them, and had for days been 
 wandering in search of their camp. It was a joyous 
 meeting— the more joyous, because unexpected. 
 Big tears were again in Daniel Boone's eyes when 
 he heard, from his brother, that Ins wife and chil- 
 dren were well. 
 
 4* 
 
42 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HEN Squire Boone had told 
 his brother all the news of 
 home, it became his turn to be 
 a listener, while Daniel talked 
 to him of all that happened 
 since they parted. After tel- 
 ling him of the beautiful coun- 
 tr\^, and their happy freedom 
 as they wandered through it for six 
 months, then came the story of his 
 captivity and escape. That escape 
 was but just now made, and with a 
 full heart he dwelt upon this part 
 of his story. It would not have been 
 strange if Squire had now felt alarmed ; 
 but his disposition was much like his 
 brother's : he loved the woods, and was afraid of 
 nothing. 
 
 In a little time, the four were once more hunting 
 freely through the forests. Signs of Indians were 
 to be seen around, however ; possibly they were 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 43 
 
 the very Indians who had captured them. In their 
 wanderings, therefore, they kept together usually, 
 for self-protection. One day, they started out upon 
 a buffalo-lumt. As they came upon a herd of these 
 animals, Stewart lodged his ball in one of them, 
 without bringing him down. The buffalo went 
 tearing through the forest ; and Daniel Boone, with 
 Stewart, forgetful of everything else, went chasing 
 after him. Naturally enough, like excited men, 
 they had no idea how far they had travelled, until 
 their very weariness reminded them that it was time 
 to turn back. Tired as he was, a harder race was 
 now before Boone. They had scarcely started on 
 their return, when a party of Indians rushed from 
 the cane-brake, and let fly their arrows. Stewart 
 fell dead on the spot. Boone would have fired his 
 rifle, but he feh it was useless : he could kill but 
 one man ; his only chance of escape was in flight. 
 With Indian yells and arrows close behind him, he 
 leaped forward, and, by tremendous exertions, at 
 last distanced his pursuers. When he reached the 
 camp, he fell, completely exhausted. 
 
 The party, now cut down to three, was in a 
 little time reduced to two. From some cause or 
 other, they could not tell what — possibly the sad 
 story jf Stewart's death, and the fear of like trou- 
 bles — the companion who had come out with 
 Squire Boone determined upon returning to North 
 
44 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Carolina. Very soon, therefore, he left them alone 
 in the wilderness.* 
 
 It is not strange that, being thus deserted, Squire 
 Boone felt restless and dissatisfied ; the wonder is, 
 that Daniel was not dissatisfied likewise. But he 
 was happy and contented, and often struggled to 
 call up the same feelings in his brother. " You 
 see," he would often say, " how little nature re- 
 quires, to be satisfied. Happiness, the companion^ 
 of content, is rather found in our own breasts than 
 in the enjoyment of external things. I firmly be- 
 lieve it requires but a little philosophy to make a 
 man happy in whatsoever state he is. This con- 
 sists in a full resignation to the will of Providence ; 
 and a resigned soul finds pleasure in a path strewed 
 with briars and thorns." This was good counsel, 
 my young friends, and I hope you will bear it with 
 you through life. It will serve to comfort you as 
 much as it did Squire Boone. 
 
 To be idle, was to allow time for this mel- 
 ancholy, and Daniel Boone kept his brother 
 constantly busy. The Indians, they were certain, 
 
 * It is said by some that this man did not thus leave ihem. 
 Their story is, that the three started out upon a hunt ; that this 
 man was separated from the Boones, and became entangled in 
 a swamp. The Boones searched for him, but could not find 
 him. Afterward, they found fragments of his clothes, which 
 convinced them that the poor man had been torn to pieces by 
 wolves. 
 
 Daniel Boone, however, tells a different story. He says that 
 the man left them, " and returned home by himself j" and I 
 have prefeired his statement to any other. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 •45 
 
 knew where their present camp was, and therefore 
 they resolved to make another. After choosing 
 their spot, they employed themselves industriously 
 in erecting another cabin, which might serve to 
 shelter them through the coming winter. This 
 being finished, they went to their old sport, wan- 
 dering through the woods, admiring the country, 
 and bringing down now and then a buffalo or a deer 
 with their rifles. At night, they would return to 
 their camp, raise a fire, cook their supper, and sit 
 till long after midnight, talking of their old home 
 on the Yadkin. Squire forgot his loneliness, and 
 became quite satisfied. In tliis way time rolled 
 off until the winter had passed away, and spring 
 appeared. Strangely enough, they had been un- 
 disturbed ; they had met not even Avith one Indian. 
 They had learned in the wilderness to dispense 
 well nigh with all comforts ; food and sleep were 
 all they expected. But their powder and shot were 
 now beginning to run low, and without these they 
 could not long procure food. It was necessary, 
 therefore, to make some arrangement whereby they 
 might obtain a fresh supply. Their plan was soon 
 settled : Squire Boone was to go back to North Car- 
 olina, and return with ammunition. They supposed 
 horses would be valuable, also, and he w^as like- 
 wise to bring with him two of these. Perilous as 
 the plan was. Squire agreed to bear his part in it, 
 and Daniel as cheerfully consented to his. Accord- 
 
46 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 mgly, on tlie first day of May, Squire set off for 
 the Yadkin ; and, as if nothinj^ was to be wanting 
 to leave Daniel in perfect loneliness, their only 
 dog followed Squire as h« started. 
 
 Here, then, Daniel Boone was left entirely alone. 
 Here he was a sort of Robinson Crusoe in the wil- 
 derness — with this difference, that Robinson was 
 shipwrecked, and had no choice ; while Boone 
 chose the wilderness as his home. He was now 
 completely the " man of the woods" — far away, 
 hundreds of miles from any white settlement. For 
 the first time in his life, according to his own con- 
 fession, he felt lonely. His mind was filled with 
 the remembrance of his wife and children, and the 
 thought that he should never see them again. He 
 knew, however, that sad thoughts, when indulged 
 in, will grow very rapidly, and therefore dismissed 
 them. 
 
 For safety's sake now, he changed his camp 
 every night, that he might avoid the Indians. Some- 
 times he slept in the canebrake ; sometimes he 
 laid himself by the side of a stream ; sometimes in 
 the caves of the rocks. By day he was surrounded 
 by his old companions the buffaloes and deer, and at 
 night was not unfrequently disturbed by the howl- 
 ing of the wolves. He roamed over many a beau- 
 tiful tract of country. Now he would ascend a 
 hill, and look down upon the scene spread like a 
 map before him ; now he would trace some stream 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 47 
 
 to its source, or, following the well-tramped roads 
 of the buffaloes, would find some spring bubbling 
 in the forest. In this way he moved over a 
 large part of the country. At one time, he struck 
 the Ohio river, and wandered for days on the banks 
 of that noble stream. It is said, that in his 
 rambles, he one day stood upon the spot where the 
 city of Louisville now stands. He learned to love 
 the woods more than ever. Long after this, he 
 used to declare, that " no crowded city, with all 
 its commerce and noble buildings, could give him 
 as much pleasure as the beauty of Kentucky at 
 that time afforded him." 
 
 Fortunately, he met no Indians. x\t one time 
 he came in sight of a roving party, but man- 
 aged to escape from them. The mode in which 
 he escaped will show you his perfect self-posses- 
 sion. He had stopped one day to rest under the 
 shade of a tree, when suddenly he spied the 
 party in the distance. This was enough for him. 
 He immediately commenced his course through 
 the forest, hoping that they had not seen him, and 
 therefore would not pursue. From time to time he 
 would look back through the woods ; and at length 
 became convinced, to his sorrow, that if they had 
 not seen him, they had marked his tracks, and 
 were now on his trail. He pushed on for more 
 than two miles, trying in various ways to break the 
 trail, and thus put them out ; still, as he looked 
 
48 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 back, he could see that they were followmg him. 
 He was puzzled to know what to do. A happy 
 thought now struck him. He had just passed the 
 brow of a small hill ; the heavy grape-vines were 
 hanging from the trees all around him. He seized 
 one of these, and, bracing himself against the tree 
 with his feet, threw himself as far as he could. 
 This broke the trail, and he now kept directly on 
 from the spot where he landed, in a different direc- 
 tion. The Indians came up, tracking him as far 
 as the tree : were then lost, and gave up the chase. 
 Another adventure is told of him during his 
 lonely wanderings, more perilous even than this. 
 One day he heard a strange noise in the woods ; 
 he could see nothing, but stood ready with his rifle. 
 Presently an immense she-bear was seen approach- 
 ing him. Surrounded by her young cubs, she was 
 doubly fierce. As she came near, Boone levelled 
 his rifle and fired. Unfortunately, his steady eye 
 failed this time ; the ball did not strike as he 
 had aimed, and the animal pressed forward, the 
 more enraged. It was impossible to load again : 
 the bear was upon Mm ; he had only time to draw 
 his hunting-knife from his belt. The bear laid her 
 paws on him, and drew him toward her. The rifle 
 in his left hand was a sort of guard, while with his 
 right he poiii.ted the knife directly for the heart of 
 the animal. As she grasped him, the knife entered 
 her body, and she fell dead. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 49 
 
 As the time drew near for the return (as he 
 hought) of his brother, Boone went back to the 
 old camp where they had lodged together, to meet 
 him. Here day after day he kept his lookout — ■ 
 day after day he was disappointed. He began 
 now to be very sad. He did not doubt his broth- 
 er's fidelity ; he knew he would not desert him ; 
 but there were many dangers by the way, and 
 perhaps he had perished. Then he thought, 
 too, of his wife and little ones. If that brother 
 had perished, he likewise must die without seeing 
 them. Without ammunition to procure food, or 
 defend himself, what could he do ? He must die, 
 there in the wilderness. His brother had been 
 absent now nearly three months : surely it was 
 time for his return. Another day of disappoint 
 ment was now drawing to a close, as Boone sat, 
 sick at heart, by the door of his cabin. A sound 
 broke on his ear ; he rose and stood listening, with 
 his hand on the lock of his rifle. It was the tread 
 of horses. The next moment he saw his brother 
 through the forest leading two horses heavily la- 
 den. Here was abundance of ammunition and 
 other comfort. The evening of the 27th of July 
 was long after this remembered by Daniel Boone 
 as one of the most joyous of his life. 
 
 A fire was soon made, their supper cooked, and 
 long after midnight they sat talking. Thousands 
 of questions were asked and answered, until, 
 5 
 
50 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 wearied out, at last they lay down to sleep. The 
 sun was high in the heavens when they waked in 
 the morning. 
 
 After breakfast, Daniel Boone proposed a new 
 plan to his brother. Much as he loved the woods, 
 he felt that two men could hardly be safe in the 
 neighborhood of so many Indians. Moreover he 
 longed to see his family : the stories of Squire 
 had called up fresh recollections in his heart. 
 The plan therefore was, to select a suitable spot 
 for their home, then return to Carolina and bring 
 out his family. Squire readily assented to this ; 
 and now they employed themselves for several 
 days in hunting and laying in a supply of provis- 
 ions. This being done, they went to the Cumber- 
 land river, and wandered for some time along the 
 stream without finding a place to please them. 
 Roaming about now, they found many new streams, 
 to which, as the first discoverers, they gave names. 
 Anxious as they were to return to the Yadkin, 
 they were in no such hurry as to neglect making 
 a full survey. The whole winter passed away 
 before they pleased themselves. At length they 
 came upon the Kentucky river. Here the lands 
 delighted them. On the banks of this stream they 
 determined to make their settlement, and now 
 (March, 1771) turned their faces homeward. As 
 he left the chosen spot, Boone says that " he felt 
 it was a second paradise, and was resolved, at the 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 51 
 
 rsk of his life and fortune, that his family should 
 have a home there." • 
 
 As they journeyed eastward from the Kentucky 
 river, they occasionally blazed their pathway (as 
 huntsmen say) that they might find their way 
 back. It was necessary thus to leave some track 
 through the forest wilderness, that they might 
 again reach their chosen spot.* Fortunately they 
 met with no Indians. 
 
 We hear of but one adventure on their way 
 homeward. After travelling quietly several days, 
 they were one morning startled by a noise. Pres- 
 ently a herd of buffaloes came rushing and tear- 
 ing through the forest ; they seemed frantic. The 
 cause of all this was soon seen. A panther, seated 
 upon the back of one of the buffaloes, had plunged 
 his claws and teeth into him. The blood was 
 streaming down his sides, and the poor animal, 
 struggling to shake him off, rushed into the midst 
 of the herd. This frightened the rest, and they 
 went bellowing and dashing through the woods. 
 Daniel Boone raised his rifle, and sent a ball 
 through the panther. He fell dead. Not far off 
 they met a pack of wolves, following as usual in 
 
 * This mode of marking their track is often practised by 
 hunters in the woods. As they pass through the forest, they 
 mark the trees by cutting off a small piece of the bark. This 
 enables them again to find the same pathway, and is commonly 
 called " blazing the track." 
 
52 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the track of the buffaloes. For the fun of seeing 
 them scatter, Squire no\Y fired his rifle, and away 
 they went, scampering in all directions. 
 
 In due time they came to the mountains. After 
 trying to ascend in various places, at length they 
 found a narrow and rugged gap, through which 
 with great difficulty they made their way. It was, 
 however, the best pass they could discover, and 
 they blazed their track, that they might find 
 it again. In a little time now, Daniel Boone 
 was again in his cabin on the banks of the Yad- 
 kin. I need hardly say there was a joyous meet- 
 ing ; he was once more happy in the bosom of his 
 family. He had been absent nearly two years. 
 
 Amid the joys of home, however, he did not 
 forget his chosen spot in Kentucky ; his heart was 
 filled with the thought that his happy home might 
 be happier there. As this was to be his final 
 move, it was necessary to settle all his business 
 on the Yadkin ; and as he had tried the wilder- 
 ness, he felt that a few trusty companions would 
 be invaluable in that new region. He com- 
 menced, therefore, making what he thought proper 
 preparations for a return. To beat up such neigh- 
 bors as they desired, he and Squire gave glowing 
 accounts of the new country ; the rich lands, the 
 forests, the streams, the flowers, and the game, 
 were all talked of. They saw only, and conse- 
 quently spoke only, of the bright side of the pic- 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 53 
 
 ture. But there were numbers of people to talk 
 of difficulties ; these spoke of the folly of the 
 Boones, in thinking of making such a country 
 their home, and the madness of any man who 
 should think of following them ; the country was 
 wild, and all who settled there must suffer many 
 privations : then, too (according to their story), it 
 was afflicted with terrible diseases, and they might 
 all expect to die there, or, if they escaped the 
 climate, they must fall into the hands of the fierce 
 and cruel Indians who roamed through those for- 
 ests ; the place they declared was so dangerous 
 that it was known, wherever it was known, as 
 " the dark and bloody ground." With these sad 
 stories floating about continually, it is not wonder- 
 fid that the Boones found difficulty in beating up 
 companions, and that more than two years passed 
 away before they were ready for a start. At the 
 end of that time they found that, while many were 
 opposed to them, and others wavering as to what 
 they would do, there were some, prompted by a 
 spirit of bold adventure, ready to join them. Five 
 families were willing to go with them to Ken- 
 tucky. 
 
 Daniel Boone now sold his farm, and all things 
 being made ready, on the 25th of September, 1 773, 
 the little company bade farewell to their friends 
 and started for the west, driving before them their 
 flocks and their herds. In their route, not a great 
 5* 
 
54 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 way from the Yadkin, was tlie settlement of Pow- 
 el's valley. The story of their plan had spread 
 through the neighborhood, and when they reached 
 this spot they were delighted to find that the peo- 
 ple were not so timid as those on the Yadkin : 
 forty men here joined the party. Now they trav- 
 elled on in high spirits ; the whole body, old and 
 young, numbering between seventy and eighty 
 souls. 
 
 In a little time they came to the mountains, and 
 found the pathway blazed by the Boones. In less 
 than a fortnight they passed the first ridge of the 
 Alleganies, known as " Powel's range," and were 
 now quietly descending the second, known as 
 " Walden's range," when sorrow overtook them. 
 They were in a dark and narrow gap, when the 
 wild yell of Indians broke upon their ears. The 
 savages rushed into the gap behind them, and let 
 fly their arrows. Six of the party fell dead, a 
 seventh was wounded. The men rallied around 
 the women and children ; the first discharge of 
 their rifles scattered the savages. But the mis- 
 chief was done ; the sudden attack of the Indians 
 was like a flash of lightning ; they were seen 
 only for an instant ; yet, like the lightning, they 
 had done their work : there were the dead, and 
 alas ! among them was the oldest son of Daniel 
 Boone 
 
 The party, a little time before so happy, was 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 55 
 
 now in deep sorrow. What was to be done ? 
 The Indians had not only killed their companions, 
 but their flocks and herds had all fled in fright, 
 and could not be again gathered together. In 
 dismay, the greater part were for retreating in- 
 stantly to the nearest white settlement ; this was 
 upon the Clinch river, forty miles behind them. 
 The Boones begged them to keep on their way — 
 not to think of turning back ; but it was all to no 
 purpose ; most of them insisted on retreating, and 
 they at length yielded to the general desire. Ac- 
 cordingly, the dead were decently buried, and in 
 great sadness they all traced their way back to 
 Clinch river. 
 
 Here Daniel Boone remained with his family 
 eight months. At the end of that time he was 
 requested by Governor Dunmore, of Virginia, to 
 go to the falls of the Ohio, to serve as a guide to 
 a party of surveyors who had been sent there 
 some months before. The western country was 
 now beginning to attract attention, and the Indians 
 were becoming very hostile to the whites. Ac- 
 cordingly, on the 6th of June, 1774, he started 
 (with one man, Michael Stoner), and without any 
 accident reached the point at which he aimed — 
 the spot where Louisville now stands. The ser- 
 vice for the surveyors was promptly performed, 
 and they were enabled to complete their work, 
 while Boone was at liberty to return to his fam- 
 
56 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 ily. It is remarkable that he made this journey on 
 foot, a distance of eight hundred miles, through a 
 trackless wilderness, in the short period of sixty- 
 two days. 
 
 He was not allowed to remain quiet long ; soon 
 after his return, the Indians northwest of the Ohio, 
 especially the Shawanese, made open war upon 
 the whites. Governor Dunmore felt bound to 
 protect his countrymen, and, among other acts 
 for their defence, sent Daniel Boone, with the title 
 of captain, to take command of three garrisons. 
 This service was likewise well performed ; mat- 
 ters were soon more quiet, the soldiers were dis- 
 charged, and Boone was relieved from his post. 
 
 He had not been a wanderer in the woods in 
 vain ; his fame had gone abroad, and his services 
 were in the following spring sought again. A 
 company of gentlemen in North Carolina — the 
 principal man of whom was Colonel Richard Hen- 
 derson — were attempting to purchase the lands on 
 the south side of the Kentucky river, from the 
 Cherokee Indians.* They had agreed to hold a 
 treaty with the Indians, at VVataga, in March, 
 1775, to settle the boundaries of their intended 
 purchase, and they now desired Boone to attend 
 that treaty, and manage their business. In com- 
 pliance wiih their wish, he went to Wataga, and 
 
 • It is said that it was by Daniel Boone's advice that they 
 first thought of making this purchase. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 57 
 
 performed their service so well, that they gave him 
 further employment. He was now requested to 
 mark out a road from their settlement, through the 
 wilderness, to Kentucky river. This was a work 
 of great labor. It was necessary to make many 
 surveys to find the best route, and when the best 
 was found, it was, much of it, over mountains 
 and rugged regions. With a number of laborers, 
 he commenced the work. He met with two at- 
 tacks from the Indians by the way, in which four 
 of his men were killed, and five wounded. Un- 
 daunted, he pushed resolutely on, and, in the 
 month of April, reached the Kentucky river. To 
 guard themselves from the savages, they immedi- 
 ately commenced the building of a fort at a salt 
 lick, about sixty yards from the south bank of the 
 stream. The Indians annoyed them from time to 
 time, while they were thus engaged, but fortu- 
 nately killed but one man. On the 14th day of 
 June the fort was finished, and Boone started 
 back for his family on Clinch river. As an honor 
 to him, the party gave to this first settlement in 
 the wilderness of Kentucky the name of Boones- 
 borough. 
 
 He reached his family without accident, and, as 
 rapidly as he could, retraced his way with them 
 through the forest. The fort consisted of several 
 cabins, surrounded by pickets ten feet high, plant- 
 ed firmly in the ground. In one of these, Daniel 
 
58 THE ADVENTURES OP 
 
 Boone found a shelter for his family. The long 
 desire of his heart was at last gratified : he had a 
 home in Kentucky. lie was the first settler of 
 that region, and (as he proudly said) his " wife 
 and daughter the first white women that ever 
 stood on the banks of Kentucky river." 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 59 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 T was now the season of 
 autumn ; the trees had not yet 
 shed their leaves, and the for- 
 ests were still beautiful. Mrs. 
 Boone felt happy as she look- 
 ed upon her new home . Win- 
 ter came, and glided rapidly 
 and joyously away. Wiih 
 their axes and rifles, the men in the 
 settlement brought in constant and 
 ample supplies of fuel and game, 
 and around the blazing hearth of 
 Daniel Boone there was not one in the 
 family who sighed for the old home on 
 the Yadkin. Boone naturally supposed 
 that a fear of the Indians would be the 
 trouble with his wife ; and well she 
 might dread them, remembering the loss of her 
 son formerly in the pass of the mountains. For- 
 tunately, however, she did not see an Indian 
 through the season. But one white man was 
 killed by them during the winter, and he lost his 
 
60 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 life by unfortunately wandering away from the 
 fort unarmed. After this, the other settlers were 
 more prudent ; they never went without the pick 
 ets for fuel without taking their rifles. 
 
 When spring opened, they were soon very busy. 
 A small clearing without the pickets was first 
 made for a garden-spot. Mrs. Boone and her 
 daughter brought out their stock of garden-seeds, 
 and commenced cultivating this, while the men 
 went on earnestly in the work of preparing for 
 their fields. They were calculating that they 
 were making their homes for life. Day after day 
 the neighborhood resounded with the crash of fall- 
 ing tress, as these hardy men levelled the forests. 
 While they were thus engaged, they were made 
 happy by a new arrival. Colonel Calloway, an 
 old companion of Boone's, led by the desire of 
 finding his old friend and a new country, came out 
 to the settlement this spring, and brought with him 
 his two young daughters. Here, then, were com- 
 panions for Boone's daughter. The fathers were 
 happy, and the mother and girls delighted. 
 
 Spring had not passed away, however, before 
 they were in sorrow about these children. When 
 the wild flowers began to bloom in the woods, 
 the girls were in the habit of strolling around the 
 fort and gathering them to adorn their humble 
 homes. This was an innocent and pleasant occu- 
 pation ; it pleased the girls as well as their parents. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 61" 
 
 They were only cautioned not to wander far, for 
 fear of the Indians. This caution, it seems, was 
 forgotten. Near the close of a beautiful day in 
 July, they were wandering, as usual, and the 
 bright flowers tempted them to stroll thoughtlessly 
 onward. Indians were in ambush ; they were 
 suddenly surrounded, seized, and hurried away, in 
 spite of their screams for help. They were car- 
 ried by their captors to the main body of the In- 
 dian party, some miles distant. Night came, and 
 the girls did not return ; search was made for 
 them, and they were nowhere to be found. The 
 thought now flashed upon Boone that the children 
 were prisoners ; the Indians had captured them. 
 The parents were well nigh frantic : possibly the 
 girls were murdered. Boone declared that he 
 would recover his child, if alive, if he lost his own 
 life in the effort. The whole settlement was at 
 once roused : every man offered to start off with 
 the two fathers in search of the children. But 
 Boone would not have them all ; some must re- 
 main behind, to protect the settlement. Of the 
 whole number he chose seven ; he and Calloway 
 headed them ; and, in less time than I have been 
 telling the story, laden with their knapsacks and 
 rifles, they were off in pursuit. 
 
 Which way were they to go ? It was a long 
 time before they could find a track of the party. 
 The wily Indians, as usual, had used all their cun- 
 6 
 
62 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 ning in hiding their footprints and breaking theif 
 trail. Covering their tracks with leaves ; walking 
 at right angles occasionally from the main path ; 
 crossing brooks by walking in them for some time, 
 and leaving them at a point far from where they 
 entered : all this had been practised, and I pre- 
 sume that the fathers never would have got on the 
 track if the girls had not been as cunning as their 
 captors. After wandering about for some time, 
 they came at length to a brook, and waded along it 
 for a great while in search of footprints. They 
 looked faithfully far up and down the stream, for 
 they knew the Indian stratagem. Presently Cal- 
 loway leaped up for joy. " God bless my child !" 
 cried he ; " they have gone this way." He had 
 picked up a little piece of riband which one of 
 his daughters had dropped, purposely to mark the 
 trail. Now they were on the track. Travelling 
 on as rapidly as they could, from time to time they 
 picked up shreds of handkerchiefs, or fragments 
 of their dresses, that the girls had scattered by 
 the way. Before the next day ended, they were 
 still more clearly on the track. They reached a 
 soft, muddy piece of ground, and found all the 
 footprints of the party ; they were now able to tell 
 the number of the Indians. The close of the next 
 day brought them still nearer to the objects of 
 their search. Night had set in ; they were still 
 wandering on, when, upon reaching a small hill; 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 63 
 
 they saw a camp-fire in the distance. They were 
 now delighted ; this surely was the party that had 
 captured the girls. Everything was left to the 
 management of Boone. He brought his men as 
 near the fire as he dared approach, and sheltered 
 them from observation under the brow of a hill. 
 Calloway and another man were then selected 
 from the group ; the rest were told that they might 
 go to sleep : they were, however, to sleep on their 
 arms, ready to start instantly at a given signal. 
 Calloway was to go with Boone ; the other man 
 was stationed on the top of the hill, to give the 
 alarm, if necessary. The two parents now crept 
 cautiously onward to a covert of bushes not far 
 from the fire. Looking through, they saw fifteen or 
 twenty Indians fast asleep in the camp ; but where 
 were the girls ? Crawling to another spot, they 
 pushed the bushes cautiously aside, and, to their 
 great joy, saw in another camp the daughters 
 sleeping in each other's arms. Two Indians 
 with their tomahawks guarded this camp. One 
 seemed to be asleep. They crept gently around 
 in the rear of this. They were afraid to use 
 their rifles : the report would wake the other 
 camp. Calloway was to stand ready to shoot the 
 sleeping Indian if he stirred, while Boone was to 
 creep behind the other, seize, and strangle him. 
 They were then to hurry off with the children. 
 Unfortunately, they calculated wrong : the Indian 
 
64 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 whom they supposed to be sleeping was wide 
 awake, and, as Boone drew near, his shadow was 
 seen by this man. He sprang up, and the woods 
 rang with his yell. The other camp was roused ; 
 the Indians came rushing to this. Boone's first 
 impulse was to use his rifle, but Calloway's pru- 
 dence restrained him. Had he fired, it would have 
 been certain destruction to parents and children. 
 They surrendered themselves prisoners, pleading 
 earnestly at the same time for their captive daugh- 
 ters. The Indians bound them with cords, placed 
 guards over them, and then retired to their camp. 
 The poor girls, roused by the tumult, now saw 
 their parents in this pitiable condition. Here they 
 were, likewise made captives, for their love of 
 them. 
 
 There was no more sleep in the Indian camp 
 that night. Till the dawn of the day they were talk- 
 ing of what should be done to the new prisoners : 
 some were for burning them at the stake ; others 
 objected to this. Boone and Calloway were to be 
 killed, but they were too brave to be killed in this 
 way. Some proposed making them run the gaunt- 
 let. At last it was decided (in pity for the girls, it 
 is said) that the parents should be killed in a more 
 decent and quiet way. They were to be toma- 
 hawked and scalped, and the girls were still to be 
 kept prisoners. With the morning's light they 
 started out to execute the sentence. That the 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 65 
 
 p0 3r girls might not see their parents murdered., 
 the men were led off to the woods, and there lashed 
 to two trees. Two of the savages stood before 
 them with their tomahawks, while the rest were 
 singing and dancing around them. At length the 
 tomahawks were lifted to strike them ; at that instant 
 the crack of rifles was heard, and the two Indians 
 fell dead. Another and another report was heard : 
 others fell, and the rest fled in dismay. Boone's 
 companions had saved them. All night long they 
 had waited for the signal : none had been given ; 
 they had heard the Indian yell ; they feared that 
 they were taken. They had watched the camp 
 with the greatest anxiety, and now had delivered 
 them. They were instantly untied ; the girls were 
 quickly released, and in the anus of their parents ; 
 and they all started joyously homeward. Mrs. 
 Boone was delighted to see them. The party had 
 been so long gone, that she feared her husband 
 and child were alike lost to her for ever. 
 
 It is not surprising that when men found out that 
 a settlement had been made in Kentucky, others 
 were soon ready to start off for that fertile region. 
 Accordingly, we find many arriving this year, and 
 settling themselves in the country. Harrod, Lo- 
 gan, Ray, Wagin, Bowman, and many other fear- 
 less spirits, now threw themselves, like Boone, 
 into the heart of the wilderness, and made their 
 forts, or stations, as they were called. These 
 6* 
 
66 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 were just like the home of Boone — nothing more 
 than a few log cabins, surrounded by pickets. In- 
 deed, the country began now to assume so much 
 importance in the eyes of men, that the Governor 
 of Virginia thought proper to take some notice 
 of it. When the legislature met, he recommended 
 that the southwestern part of the county of Fin- 
 castle — which meant all the large tract of country 
 west of the Alleganies now known as Kentucky 
 — should be made into a separate county, by the 
 name of Kentucky. The legislature thought it 
 well to follow his advice. The new county was 
 made, and had the privilege of sending two mem- 
 bers to the Virginia legislature. 
 
 Nor is it surprising that the Indians began now 
 to be more violent than ever in their enmity. They 
 had been unwilling before that a white man should 
 cross their path as they roamed over their hunting- 
 grounds ; but now, when they saw clearings made, 
 and houses built, they felt that the whites meant 
 to drive them for ever from that region. Their 
 hatred consequently increased now every hour. 
 Another circumstance at this time served to 
 rouse them the more against the settlers. If 
 you will think of the period of which I am 
 speaking (the year 1776), perhaps you may guess 
 what it was. The colonists of America in that 
 year, you will remember, declared themselves in- 
 dependent of Great Britain. In the war which 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 67 
 
 followed (known among us always as the Revolu- 
 tionary War), England struggled hard to subdue 
 them ; nor was she always choice as to the means 
 which she used for the purpose. She did not hes- 
 itate even to rouse the red men of the forests, and 
 give them arms to fight the colonists. They were 
 not only turned loose upon them with their own 
 tomahawks and scalping-knives, but were well 
 supplied with British rifles and balls. All the new 
 settlements in the land were troubled with them, 
 and Kentucky had to bear her part of the sorrow. 
 These Indians would scatter themselves in small 
 parties, and hang secretly for days and nights 
 around the infant stations. Until one is acquaint- 
 ed with Indian stratagems, he can hardly tell how 
 cunning these people are. By day they would 
 hide themselves in the grass, or behind the stumps 
 of trees, near the pathways to the fields or springs 
 of water, and it was certain death to the white 
 man who travelled that way. At night they would 
 creep up to the very gateway of the pickets, and 
 watch for hours for a white man. If any part of 
 his person was exposed, he was sure to catch a 
 rifle-ball. It was impossible to discover them, 
 even when their mischief was done. They would 
 lie in the grass flat on their bellies for days, al- 
 most under the very palisades. Sometimes an In- 
 dian yell would be heard near one point of the fort, 
 startling all the settlers — a yell raised only to draw 
 
68 THE ADVEN'TURES 07 
 
 them all in one direction, Avliile the Indians did 
 their mischief in another In this sneaking mode 
 of warfare, men, women, and children, were killed 
 in many places ; and not unfrequently whole droves 
 of cattle were cut off. 
 
 At length, to the great joy of the settlers', the 
 Indians began to show themselves more boldly : 
 for anything was better than these secret ambushes 
 of the savages ; an open enemy is not so much to 
 be dreaded as a secret one. Boonesborough and 
 Harrodsburgh (a settlement made by James Har- 
 rod, a bold adventurer from the banks of the Mo- 
 nongahela) were now the principal stations. Tow- 
 ard these, new emigrants were from time to time 
 moving, and against these stations, as being the 
 strongest, the Indians felt the greatest hatred, and 
 directed their principal attacks. Early in the 
 spring of 1777, a party was moving toward Har- 
 rodsburgh : fortunately, the Indians attacked them ; 
 for, though two whites were killed, the attack 
 probably saved the settlement. It was only four 
 miles from the place, and the Indians were now 
 on their way there. One young man escaped in 
 the midst of the fight to give the alarm at Harrods- 
 burgh. The station was instantly put in a state 
 of defence. Ere long, the Indians appeared. A 
 brisk firing at once commenced on both sides ; the 
 savages saw one of their men fall, and finding that 
 they were not likely to gain any advantage, soon 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 69 
 
 Bcattered for the woods. The whites lost one man 
 also, and three were slightly wounded. 
 
 On the 15th of April, a party of one hundred 
 savages appeared boldly before Boonesborough. 
 Every man of them was armed with his gun, as 
 well as bow and arrows. Boone, however, was 
 prepared for them, and gave them a warm recep- 
 tion—so warm, that they soon gladly retreated. 
 How many of their men were killed it was im- 
 possible to tell, for they dragged away their dead 
 with them. In the fort one man was killed, and 
 four were badly wounded. 
 
 Their loss this time only served to make them 
 more revengeful. In July following they again 
 came against Boonesborough, resolved upon ven- 
 geance. They numbered this time more than two 
 hundred. To prevent any of the white settlements 
 from sending aid to Boonesborough, they had sent 
 off small parties to molest them, and keep them 
 busy. The savages now commenced their attack, 
 and for two days a constant firing was kept up. 
 At last, finding their efforts again idle, they raised 
 a loud yell, and returned to the forests. The 
 whites could now count their slain and wounded 
 as they dragged them off: seven were killed, and 
 numbers wounded, while in the fort only one white 
 man was slain. In spite of their numbers and 
 their cunning, they did but little harm : for Boone 
 was never found sleeping ; he knew that Indians 
 
70 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 were his neighbors, and he was always ready for 
 them. After this, they learned to dread him more 
 than ever. He now went by the name of the 
 " Great Long Knife:' 
 
 Attacks of this kind were made from time to 
 time openly against the settlements, but especially 
 against these two principal stations. They all 
 ended very much in the same way, and it would 
 only weary you if I should attempt to speak of 
 them. It is enough for you to know that the 
 whites were always on the lookout, and that 
 Boone was regarded as their principal leader and 
 protector. We will pass on, therefore, to some- 
 thincr more interesting. 
 
 I have already stated that the stations of these 
 settlers were usually built, for comfort's sake, in 
 the neighborhood of salt licks or springs ; and near 
 such a lick, as you will remember, Boonesborough 
 stood. The supply of salt, however, was not suf- 
 ficient ; new settlers were often arriving, and it 
 became necessary to seek a place which would 
 afford more of that article. Boone was the father 
 of the settlement, and he undertook to find it. 
 Having selected thirty men as his companions, on 
 the 1st of January, 1778, he started for the Blue 
 Licks, on Licking river — a stream, as you know, 
 emptying itself into the Ohio opposite where Cin- 
 cinnati now stands. Upon reaching this spot, the 
 thirty men were soon very busy in making salt. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 71 
 
 Boone, having no taste for the work, sauntered off 
 to employ himself in shooting game for the com- 
 pany. He had wandered some distance from the 
 river one day, when suddenly he came upon two 
 Indians armed with muskets. It was impossible for 
 him to retreat, and the chances were against him 
 if he stood. His usual coolness did not forsake 
 him ; he instantly jumped behind a tree. As the 
 Indians came within gun-shot, he exposed himself 
 on the side of the tree : one savage immediately 
 fired, and Boone dodged the ball. One shot was 
 thus thrown away, and this was just what he de- 
 sired. Exposing himself immediately in precisely 
 the same way, the other musket was discharged 
 by the other Indian, to as little purpose. He now 
 stepped boldly out ; the Indians were trying hard 
 to load again ; he raised his rifle, and one savage 
 fell dead. He was now on equal terms with the 
 other. Drawing his hunting-knife, he leaped for- 
 ward and placed his foot upon the body of the dead 
 Indian ; the other raised his tomahawk to strike ; 
 but Boone, with his rifle in his left hand, warded 
 off" the blow, while with his right he plunged his 
 knife into the heart of the savage. His two foes 
 lay dead before him. If you should ever visit 
 Washington city, you will see a memorial of this 
 deed. The act is in sculpture, over the southern 
 door of the rotundo of the capitol. 
 
 After this he continued his hunting excursions, 
 
72 THE ADVENTURES OP 
 
 as usual, for the benefit of his party ; but he was 
 not so fortunate the next time he met with Indians. 
 On the 7th of February, as he was roaming through 
 the woods, he saw a party of one hundred savages 
 on their way to attack Boonesborough. His onlj 
 chance for escape now w^as to run. He instantly 
 fled, but the swiftest warriors gave chase, and be- 
 fore a great while he was overtaken and made a 
 prisoner. He was, of all men, the one whom they 
 desired to take ; they could now gain, as they 
 thought, some information about Boonesborough. 
 They now carried him back to the Blue Licks. 
 As they drew near, Boone, knowing that it was 
 idle to resist, made signs to the salt-makers to sur- 
 render themselves, 'i'his they did, and thus the 
 savages soon had in their possession twenty-eight 
 captives. Fortunately for themselves, three of the 
 men had started homeward with a supply of salt, 
 and thus escaped. j^ 
 
 Now was the time for the savages to have at- 
 tacked Boonesborough ; for, with the loss of so 
 many men, and Boone their leader, we may readily 
 suppose that the station might have surrendered. 
 Flushed., however, with the capture of their pris- 
 oners, they seem not to have thought of it any 
 longer. 
 
 The prisoners were marched immediately to Old 
 Chilicothe, the principal Indian town on the Little 
 Miami, where they arrived on the 18th. There 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 73 
 
 was great rejoicing over them when they reached 
 this old settlement of the savages, though Boone 
 says they were " treated as kindly as prisoners 
 could expect." Early in the next month Boone 
 with ten of his men was marched off to Detroit 
 by forty Indians. Here Governor Hamilton, the 
 British commander of that post, treated them with 
 much kindness. The ten men were soon deliv- 
 ered up for a small ransom. But when the 
 Governor offered them one hundred pounds to 
 give up Boone, that he might allow him to return 
 home, they refused to part with him ; they looked 
 upon him as too dangerous an enemy to be allowed 
 to go free upon any terms. Several English gen- 
 tlemen were moved with pity when they saw Boone 
 thus a helpless prisoner, and offered to supply his 
 wants. He thanked them for their feeling, but re- 
 fused to receive any aid, stating that he never ex- 
 pected to be able to return their kindness, and 
 therefore was unwilling to receive it. The truth 
 was, he was not disposed to receive assistance 
 from the enemies of his country. 
 
 With no other prisoner than Boone, the party 
 now started again for Old Chilicothe. As they 
 drew near, after a very fatiguing march, Boone 
 thought he understood why they had refused to 
 part with him. Before they entered the village, 
 they shaved his head, painted his face, and dressed 
 him like themselves ; they then placed in his 
 7 
 
74 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 hands a long white staff, ornamented with deers* 
 tails. The chief of the party then raised a yell, 
 and all the warriors from the village answered it, 
 and soon made their appearance. Four young 
 warriors commenced singing as they came toward 
 him. The two first, each bearing a calumet, took 
 him by the arms and marched him to a cabin in 
 the village ; here he was to remain until his fate 
 was made known to him. Of all strange customs 
 of the Indians (and he had seen many of them), 
 this was the strangest to him. It is not wonder- 
 ful that he thought he was now to die. 
 
 Yet this was a common custom (it is said) among 
 the Shawanese, who inhabited this village. Pris- 
 oners were often thus carried to some cabin, and 
 then the Indian living in the cabin decided what 
 should be done — whether the prisoner should die, 
 or be adopted into the tribe. It happened that in 
 this cabin lived an old Indian woman, who had 
 lately lost a son in battle. She, of course, was to 
 decide Boone's fate. She looked at him earnestly, 
 admired his noble bearing and cheerful face, and 
 at length declared that he should live. He should 
 be her son, she said ; he should be to her the son 
 whom she had lost. The young warriors instantly 
 announced to him his fate, and the fact was soon 
 proclaimed through the village. Food was brought 
 out and set before him ; and every effort, which In- 
 dian love could think of, was used to make him 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 75 
 
 happy. He was fairly one of the tribe ; and the 
 old woman who was to be his mother was espe- 
 cially delighted. 
 
 He was now as free as the rest ; his only sor- 
 row Avas that he had to live among them. He 
 knew, too, that if he should be caught trying to 
 make liis escape, it would be certain death to him. 
 He pretended, therefore, to be cheerful and hap- 
 py ; and fortunately his old habits enabled him to 
 play his part well. Like them, he was a man of 
 the woods, and as fond of hunting as any of them. 
 They all soon became attached to him, and treated 
 him with the utmost confidence. 
 
 Sometimes large parties would go out to try 
 their skill at their sports of racing and shooting at 
 a mark. Boone was always with them ; he knew, 
 however, that in trials of this kind the Indians 
 were always jealous if they were beaten, and 
 therefore he had to act very prudently. At racing, 
 they could excel him ; but at shooting, he was 
 more than a match for any of them. Still, when 
 the target was set up, he was always certain to be 
 beaten. If he shot too well, they would be jeal- 
 ous and angry ; if he shot badly, they would hold 
 him in contempt : and therefore he would manage 
 to make good shots, and yet never be the success- 
 ful man. He knew too much of Indians not to 
 conduct himself properly. 
 
 Sometimes they would start out upon hunting- 
 
76 THE ADVEXXrRES OF 
 
 parties. Here Boone was at home ; there was no 
 jealousy when he brought down a buffalo or a deer 
 with his rifle-hall. lie might do his best ; they 
 were true hunters themselves, and were delighted 
 with every successful shot. Returning to the vil- 
 lage, Boone would always visit the Shawanese 
 chief, and present him a portion of his game. By 
 this kindness and civility he completely won the 
 heart of the chief, and was notunfrequently consult- 
 ed by him oh important matters. Thus he passed 
 his time, joining in all their modes of living; he 
 was beloved by the old woman, the chief, and all 
 the tribe : and none suspected that he was not 
 contented and happy. 
 
 On the 1st of June, a large party was starting 
 from the village for the salt-licks on the Scioto, to 
 make salt. Boone pretended to be indifferent 
 whether he went or not. The truth was, how- 
 ever, that he was very anxious to go, for he thought 
 it would afford a fine opportunity for him to escape. 
 He seemed so indifferent about the matter, that the 
 party urged him to accompany them, and off he 
 started. For ten days most of them were busy 
 making salt, while Boone and two or three of the 
 best marksmen hunted for the benefit of the rest. 
 He watched his chance for escape, but none oc- 
 curred ; he was closely observed ; it was impossi- 
 ble for him to attempt it. To his great sorrow, he 
 was forced to return home with the salt-makers. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 77 
 
 They liad scarcely got back, when the whole 
 village was summoned to the council-he use, to at- 
 tend a council of war. Boone, as belonging to 
 one of the principal families, went to this council. 
 Here he met four hundred and fifty armed Indians, 
 all gayly painted. One of the oldest warriors then 
 struck a large drum, and marched with the war- 
 standard three times round the council-house : this 
 was the sure signal that they were about to make 
 war upon some enemy. But who was the enemy ? 
 What was Boone's surprise when it was announced 
 that they meant to attack Boonesborough ! He re- 
 solved now that he would escape, even at every 
 hazard, and alarm the settlement. Still his pru- 
 dence did not forsake him. 
 
 The old warriors at once commenced gathering 
 together a supply of parched corn, and beating up 
 more recruits for the expedition. All the new 
 men (Boone among the rest, for he was forced to 
 join them) were then marched off to the " winter- 
 house" to drink the war-drink. This was a mix- 
 ture of water and bitter herbs and roots, and was 
 to be drank steadily for three days, during which 
 time no man was to eat a morsel. Even if a deer 
 or buffalo passed by, no man was to kill it ; the fast 
 must be kept. In fact, no man was allowed even 
 to sit down, or rest himself by leaning against a 
 tree. This was done by the old men to purify 
 "the young warriors, as they said, and to gain the 
 7* 
 
78 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 favor of the Great Spirit. All this was a common 
 practice with the tribe before they went to battle ; 
 and the more strictly the fast was kept, the greater 
 (as they supposed) were the chances of success. 
 During these three days, Boone, like the rest, kept 
 the fast, drank the war-drink, and did not even 
 leave the " medicine-ground." 
 
 The fast being over, they fired their guns, 
 yelled, danced, and sang ; and in the midst of this 
 noise the march commenced. The leading war- 
 chief, bearing the medicine-bag, or budget (as it 
 was called), went before ; the rest followed in 
 single file. Nothing but shouting and yelling, and 
 the noise of gims, was heard, as they passed 
 thiough the village. When they reached the 
 woods, all the noise ceased ; they were fairly on 
 their march, and that march was to be made after 
 the Indian fashion, in dead silence. For several 
 days this dead march was kept up, Boone looking 
 every hour for his chance of escape. At length, 
 early one morning, a deer dashed by the line. 
 Boone leaped eagerly after him, and started in 
 pursuit. No sooner was he out of sight of the 
 Indians, than he pressed for Boonesborough. He 
 knew they would give chase, and therefore he 
 doubled his track, waded in streams, and did every- 
 thing that he could to throw them off his trail. 
 Every sound startled him ; he thought the Indians 
 were behind him. With no food but roots and 
 
DAVIF.T BOONE 79 
 
 berries, and scarcely time to devour these, he 
 pushed through swamps and thickets for his old 
 home. Now or never was his chance for liberty, 
 and as such he used it. At length, after wan- 
 dering nearly two hundred miles, on the fourth day 
 he reached Boonesborough in safety. 
 
bO 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 EFORE we go on, let me 
 tell you of some of the cu- 
 rious customs which Boone 
 noticed among the Indians, 
 during his captivity. He had 
 a fine opportunity for observa- 
 tion, and I think these strange 
 customs will interest you. 
 It is not wonderful that Indian 
 .men and women are so hardy ; they 
 are trained to it from their youth : 
 and Boone tells us how they are 
 trained. When a child is only eight 
 o years old, this training commences ; he 
 kj? is then made to fast frequently half a 
 day ; when he is twelve, he is made to 
 tast a whole day. During the time of this fast, 
 the child is left alone, and his face is always 
 blacked. This mode of hardening them is kept 
 up with girls until they are fourteen — with boys 
 until they are eighteen. At length, when a boy 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 81 
 
 has reached the age of eighteen, his parents tell 
 him that his education is completed, and that he is 
 old enough to be a man. His face is now to be 
 blacked for the last time. He is taken to a soli- 
 tary cabin far away from the village ; his face is 
 blacked, and then his father makes to him a 
 speech of this kind : " My son, the Great Spirit 
 has allowed you to live to see this day. We have 
 all noticed your conduct since I first began to 
 black your face. All people will understand wheth- 
 er you have followed your father's advice, and 
 they will treat you accordingly. You must now 
 remain here until I come after you." The lad is 
 then left alone. His father then goes off hunting, 
 as though nothing had happened, and leaves his 
 boy to bear his hunger as long it is possible for 
 him to starve and live. At length he prepares a 
 great feast, gathers his friends together, and then 
 returns. The lad is then brought home, his face 
 is washed in cold water, his hair is shaved, leav- 
 ing nothing but the scalp-lock ; they all commence 
 eating, but the food of the lad is placed before him 
 in a separate dish. This being over, a looking- 
 glass and a bag of paint are then presented to him. 
 Then they all praise him for his firmness, and tell 
 him that he is a man. Strange as it may seem, a 
 boy is hardly ever known to break his fast when 
 he is blacked this way for the last time. It is 
 looked upon as something base, and they have a 
 
83 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 dread that the Great Spirit will punish them if 
 they are disobedient to their parents. 
 
 Another curious habit which surprised Boone 
 was that of continually changing names. A white 
 man carries the same name from the cradle to the 
 grave, but among these people it was very differ- 
 ent. Their principal arms, as you know, are the 
 tomahawk and scalping-knife, and he who can 
 take the greatest number of scalps is the greatest 
 man. From time to time, as warriors would re- 
 turn from an attack upon some enemy, these new 
 names would begin to be known. Each man 
 would count the number of scalps he had taken, 
 and a certain number entitled him to a new name, 
 in token of his bravery. It is not wonderful that 
 they were revengeful, when they were stimulated 
 by this sort of ambition. Besides this, they be- 
 lieved that he who took the scalp of a brave man 
 received at once all his courage and other good 
 qualities ; and this made them more eager in their 
 thirst for scalps. In this way, names of warriors 
 were sometimes changed three or four times in a 
 year. 
 
 Marriages in this tribe were conducted very de- 
 cently. When a young warrior desired to marry, 
 he assembled all his friends, and named the wo- 
 man whom he wished for his wife. His relations 
 then received his present, and took it to the parents 
 of the young woman. If they were pleased with 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 83 
 
 the proposal, they would dress the young woman 
 in her gayest clothes, and take her, with bundles 
 of presents, to the friends of the warrior ; then, if 
 she pleased, she was to be married. There was 
 no compulsion in the matter. If she was not sat- 
 isfied, she had only to return his present to the 
 young warrior, and this was considered a refusal. 
 
 Their mode of burying their dead was very 
 much like that of all the Indians. The dead body 
 was sometimes placed in a pen made of sticks and 
 covered over with bark ; sometimes it was placed 
 in a grave, and covered first with bark, and then 
 with dirt ; and sometimes, especially in the case 
 of the young, it was placed in a rude cofhn, and 
 suspended from the top of a tree. This last was 
 a common mode of infant burial, and the mother 
 of the child would often be found, long after, 
 standing under the tree, and singing songs to her 
 babe. 
 
 Boone witnessed, too, the mode in which war- 
 parties start off for war. The budget, or medicine- 
 bag, is first made up. This bag contains some- 
 thing belonging to each man of the parly — some- 
 thing usually representing some animal, such as 
 the skin of a snake, the tail of a buffalo, the horns 
 of a buck, or the feathers of a bird. It is always 
 regarded as a very sacred thing. The leader of 
 the party goes before with this ; the rest follow in 
 single file. When they come to a stand, the 
 
84 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 budget is laid down in front, and no man may 
 pass it without permission. To keep their thoughts 
 upon the enterprise in which they are engaged, no 
 man is allowed to talk of women or his home. At 
 night, when they encamp, the heart of whatever 
 animal has been killed during the day is cut into 
 small pieces and then burnt. During the burning 
 no man is allowed to step across the fire, but must 
 always walk around it in the direction of the sun. 
 When they spy the enemy, and the attack is to be 
 made, the war-budget is opened. Each man takes 
 out his budget, or totem^ and fastens it to his 
 body. After the fight, each man again returns his 
 totem to the leader. They are all again tied up, 
 and given to the man who has taken the first 
 scalp. He then leads the party in triumph home. 
 Boone had not long been a prisoner among them 
 when a successful war-party returned home and 
 celebrated their victory. When the party came 
 within a day's march of the village, a messenger 
 was sent in to tell of their success. An order 
 was instantly issued that every cabin should be 
 swept clean, and the women as quickly commenced 
 the work. When they had finished, the cabins 
 were all inspected, to see if they wxre in proper 
 order. Next day the party approached the village. 
 They were all frightfully painted, and each man 
 had a bunch of white feathers on his head. They 
 were marching in single file, the chief of the party 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 85 
 
 leading the way, bearing in one hand a branch of 
 cedar, laden with the scalps they had taken, and 
 all chanting their war-song. As they entered the 
 village, the chief led the way to the war-pole, 
 which stood in front of the council-house. In this 
 house the council-fire was then burning. The 
 waiter, or Etissu of the leader, then fixed two 
 blocks of wood near the war-pole, and placed up- 
 on them a kind of ark, which was regarded by 
 them as one of their most sacred things. The 
 chief now ordered that all should sit down. He 
 then inquired whether his cabin was prepared, and 
 everything made ready, according to the custom 
 of his fathers. They then rose up and commenced 
 the war-whoop, as they marched round the war- 
 pole. The ark was then taken and carried with 
 great solemnity into the council-house, and here 
 the whole party remained three days and nights, 
 separate from the rest of the people. Their first 
 business now was to wash themselves clean, and 
 sprinkle themselves with a mixture of bitter herbs. 
 While they were thus in the house, all their fe- 
 male relatives, after having bathed and dressed 
 themselves in their finest clothes, placed them- 
 selves in two lines facing each other on each side 
 of the door. Here they continued singing a slow mo- 
 notonous song all day and night ; the song was kept 
 up steadily for one minute, with intervals of ten 
 minutes of dead silence between. About once in 
 8 
 
86 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 three hours the chief would march out at the head of 
 his warriors, raise the war-whoop, and pass around 
 the war-pole, bearing his branch of cedar. This 
 was all that was done for the whole three days and 
 nights. At length the purification was ended, and 
 upon each of their cabins was placed a twig of the 
 cedar with a fragment of the scalps fastened to it, 
 to satisfy the ghosts of their departed friends. All 
 were now quiet as usual, except the leader of the 
 party and his waiter, who kept up the purification 
 three days and nights longer. When he had fin- 
 ished, the budget was hung up before his door for 
 thirty or forty days, and from time to time Indians 
 of the party would be seen singing and dancing 
 before it. When Boone asked the meaning of all 
 this strange ceremony, they answered him by a 
 word which he says meant hoJy. 
 
 As this party had brought in no prisoners, he 
 did not now witness their horrible mode of torture. 
 Before he left them, however, he saw enough of 
 their awful cruelty in this way. Sometimes the 
 poor prisoner would be tied to a stake, a pile of 
 green wood placed around him, fire applied, and 
 the poor wretch left to his horrible fate, while, 
 amid shouts and yells, the Indians departed. 
 Sometimes he would be forced to run the gauntlet 
 between two rows of Indians, each one striking 
 at him with a club until he fell dead. Others 
 would be fastened between two stakes, their arms 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 87 
 
 and legs stretched to each of them, and then quick- 
 ly burnt by a blazing fire. A common mode was 
 to pinion the arms of the prisoner, and then tie one 
 end of a grape-vine around his neck, while the 
 other was fastened to the stake. A fire was then 
 kindled, and the poor wretch would walk the circle ; 
 this gave the savages the comfort of seeing the 
 poor creature literally roasting, while his agony 
 was prolonged. Perhaps this was the most popu- 
 lar mode, too, because all the women and children 
 could join in it. They were there, with their bun- 
 dles of dry sticks, to keep the fire blazing, and 
 their long switches, to beat the prisoner. Fearful 
 that their victim might die too soon, and thus es- 
 cape their cruelty, the women would knead cakes 
 of clay and put them on the scull of the poor suf- 
 ferer, that the fire might not reach his brain and 
 instantly kill him. As the poor frantic wretch 
 would run round the circle, they would yell, dance, 
 and sing, and beat him with their switches, until 
 he fell exhausted. At other times, a poor prisoner 
 would be tied, and then scalding water would be 
 poured upon him from time to time till he died. 
 It was amazing, too, to see how the warriors 
 would sometimes bear these tortures. Tied to the 
 stake, they would chant their war-songs, threaten 
 their captors with the awful vengeance of their 
 tribe, boast of how many of their nation they had 
 scalped, and tell their tormentors how they might 
 
88 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 increase their torture. In the midst of the fire 
 they would stand unflinching, and die without 
 changing a muscle. It was their glory to die in 
 this way ; they felt that they disappointed their 
 enemies in their last triumph. 
 
 While Boone was with them, a noted warrioi 
 of one of the western tribes, with which the Shaw- 
 anese were at war, was brought in as a captive. 
 He was at once condemned, stripped, fastened to 
 the stake, and the fire kindled. After suffering 
 without flinching for a long time, he laughed at his 
 captors, and told them, they did not know how to 
 make an enemy eat fire. He called for a pipe and 
 tobacco. Excited by his bravery, they gave it to 
 him. He sat down on the burning coals, and com- 
 menced smoking with the utmost composure ; not 
 a muscle of his countenance moved. Seeing this, 
 one of his captors sprang forward and cried out 
 that he was a true warrior. Though he had mur- 
 dered many of their tribe, yet he should live, if 
 the fire had not spoiled him. The fire had, how- 
 ever, well nigh done its work. With that, he de- 
 clared that he was too brave a man to suffer any 
 longer. He seized a tomahawk and raised it over 
 the head of the prisoner : still a muscle did not 
 move. He did not even change his posture. 
 The blow was given, and the brave warrior fell 
 dead. 
 
 While among them, Boone also witnessed the 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 89 
 
 mode in which the Shawanese make a treaty of 
 peace. The warriors of both tribes between which 
 the treaty was to be made, met together first, ate 
 and smoked in a friendly way, and then pledged 
 themselves in a sacred drink called cussena. The 
 Shawanese then waved large fans, made of eagles' 
 tails, and danced. The other party, after this, 
 chose six of their finest young men, painted them 
 with white clay, and adorned their heads with 
 swans' feathers ; their leader was then placed on 
 what was called the " consecrated seat." After 
 this they all commenced dancing, and singino- 
 their song of peace. They danced first m a bend- 
 ing posture ; then stood upright, still dancing, and 
 bearing in their right hands their fans, while in 
 their left they carried a calabash, tied to a stick 
 about a foot long, and with this continually beat 
 their breasts. During all this, some added to the 
 noise by rattling pebbles in a gourd. This being 
 over, the peace was concluded. It was an act 
 of great solemnity, and no warrior was considered 
 as well trained, who did not know how to join in 
 every part of it. 
 
 Many other strange things were seen by Boone 
 among these people, but these are enough to show 
 you that he was among a strange people, with 
 habits very unlike his own. It is not wonderful 
 thai; he sighed to escape, when he looked upon 
 their horrid tortures. Independently of his love 
 8* 
 
90 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 for Boonesborough, he did not know but that such 
 tortures might be his at any moment, when they 
 became excited. Fortunately, as we have seen, 
 he did escape, and we will now go on with his 
 story. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 91 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HEN Boone reached Boones- 
 borough, the object he most 
 loved was not to be found. 
 His poor wife, wearied with 
 waiting for him, and naturally 
 concluding that he was lost to 
 her for ever, had returned to 
 her friends on the Yadkin. 
 The settlers had begged her to re- 
 main, and offered her every kind- 
 ness ; but her husband was gone : 
 she was heart-sick, and longed to 
 return to her friends in Carolina. 
 Disappointed as he was, however, he 
 had no time to waste in sorrow. The 
 , Wj ' Indians were approaching, and Boones- 
 borough was well nigh defenceless. Just before 
 his return, a Major Smith had taken charge of the 
 post, and been busy in strengthening it, but much 
 was still to be done. Boone's energies were now 
 at work, and in a little time the station was ready 
 for an attack. A white man now came into the set- 
 
y* THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 tlement with news. He had escaped from the In- 
 dians. The party from which Boone had escaped 
 had postponed their attack for three weeks, and 
 gone back to strengthen themselves. They felt 
 that Boone had reached home — the alarm was 
 given, the place fortified — and that it was idle to 
 attack it at this time. 
 
 Boone determined at once to improve the mean 
 season. With nineteen men, he started off 
 to surprise the Indians at Paint Creek Town, a 
 small village on the Scioto. When he came with- 
 in four miles of the place, he met a party of the 
 savages on their way to join the large body march- 
 ing against Boonesborough. The fight instantly 
 commenced : one Indian fell dead, several were 
 wounded, and the rest were forced to retreat ; their 
 horses and all their baggage fell into the hands of 
 Boone. Two men were now sent to reconnoitre 
 the town. They found no Indians there ; they 
 had all left. After setting fire to the village, they 
 returned, and Boone immediately hurried home- 
 ward. 
 
 He had scarcely entered the station, and closed 
 the gates, when an army of four hundred and forty- 
 four Indians, led on by a Frenchman named Du- 
 quesne, appeared before the settlement. They 
 soon sent in a flag, demanding, in the name of the 
 King of Great Britain, that the station should in- 
 stantly surrender. A council was immediately 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 93 
 
 held in the fort. With such a force before them, 
 Smith was in favor of meeting their proposal ; 
 Boone opposed it ; the settlers backed him in this 
 opposition ; and he sent back for an answer to the 
 Indians that the gates should never be opened to 
 them. Presently another flag of truce was sent 
 in, with a message that they had a letter for Colonel 
 Boone from Governor Hamilton, of Detroit. Upon 
 hearing this, it was thought best that Boone and 
 Smith should go out and meet them, and hear what 
 they had to say. 
 
 Fifty yards from the fort they were met by three 
 chiefs, who received them very cordially, and led 
 them to the spot where they were to hold the par- 
 ley. Here they were seated upon a panther's 
 skin, while the Indians held branches over their 
 heads to protect them from the sun. The chiefs 
 then commenced talking in a friendly way, and 
 some of their warriors now came forward, ground- 
 ed their arms, and shook hands with them. Then 
 the letter of General Hamilton was read ; he invi- 
 ted them to surrender and come at once to Detroit 
 ■where they should be treated with all kindness. 
 Smith objected to this' proposal, declaring that it 
 was impossible for them, at this time, to move 
 their women and children ; but the Indians had 
 an answer ready : they had brought forty hor- 
 ses with them, they said, expressly to help them 
 in removing. After a long and friendly talk, the 
 
94 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 white men returned to the fort, for the purpose, as 
 they said, of considering the proposal. They 
 now informed the settlers that the Indians had no 
 cannon, and advised them never to think of sur- 
 rendering. Every man thought the advice good. 
 The Indians now sent in another flag, and ask- 
 ed what treaty the whites v^ere ready to make. 
 Boone, who had suspected treachery all the time, 
 at once sent a reply, that if they wished to make 
 a treaty, the place for making it, must be within 
 sixty yards of the fort. This displeased them at 
 first, but at last, they consented. He then sta- 
 tioned some of his men, with their guns, in one 
 angle of the fort, with orders to fire if it became 
 necessary, and, with Smith, started out to meet 
 them. After a long talk with thirty chiefs, terms 
 were agreed upon, and the treaty was ready to be 
 signed ; the chiefs now said that it was custom- 
 ary with them, on such occasions, for the Indians 
 to shake hands with every white man who signed 
 the treaty, as a token of the warmest friendship. 
 Boone and Smith agreed to this, and the shaking 
 of hands commenced ; presently, they found them- 
 selves seized in the crowd — the Indians were 
 dragging them ofi"; a fire from the fort now lev- 
 elled the savages who grasped them ; the rest 
 were in confusion, and, in the confusion, Boone 
 and Smith escaped and rushed into the fort. In 
 the struggle Boone was wounded, though not dan- 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 95 
 
 gerously. It was a narrow escape for both of 
 them. 
 
 There was no more chance for deception now ; 
 the Indians were disappointed, and the whites 
 were provoked at their treachery. A brisk firino- 
 now commenced on both sides ; Duquesne ha- 
 rangued the Indians and urged them on, while the 
 whites shouted from the fort, upbraided them as 
 treacherous cowards, and defied them. The at- 
 tack was furious, the firing was kept up till dark, 
 and many an Indian fell that day before Boones- 
 borough. The whites, sheltered by their pickets, 
 made easy havoc among them. 
 
 When night came, the exasperated Indians 
 crawled under the pickets and began to throw 
 burning materials into the fort, hoping to set all 
 on fire ; but in this they were disappointed — there 
 were ample supplies of water inside, and the fire 
 was put out as fast as it fell. 
 
 The next day the firing was resumed, and day 
 after day it continued, the Indians failing to make 
 any impression. They were too far from the fort 
 — the first day's work had taught them not to 
 come near. At last they formed a wiser plan for 
 doing mischief. Boonesborough, as you will re- 
 member, v/as only sixty yards from the river, and 
 they determined, by the advice of the Frenchman, 
 to let the water in and force the settlers out. In 
 the night, they commenced the work of digging a 
 
96 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 trench under ground, from the river. In the morn- 
 ing Boone looked out upon the river, and perceiv- 
 ing that it was muddy, instantly guessed the cause. 
 He immediately set his men to the work of cut- 
 ting a trench inside the fort, to cross the subterra- 
 nean passage of the Indians. The savages saw 
 what was doing, for Boone's men were constantly 
 shovelling dirt over the pickets, but they persever- 
 ed earnestly in their design. At last, however, 
 they were forced to stop, for the dirt caved in 
 as fast as they dug ; disappointed in this, they 
 now summoned the station once more to a treaty. 
 But Boone laughed at them. " Do you suppose," 
 said he, " we would pretend to treat with such 
 treacherous wretches 1 Fire on, you only waste 
 your powder ; the gates shall never be opened to 
 you while there is a man of us living." Taking 
 his advice, they commenced their firing again ; at 
 last, on the ninth day of the siege, wearied with 
 their fruitless labor, they killed all the cattle they 
 could find, raised a yell, and departed. This was 
 a terrible siege for the Indians ; it is said that they 
 lost tw^o hundred men ; Boone counted thirty-sev- 
 en chief warriors ; while the whites, defended by 
 their pickets, had but two killed and four wounded. 
 You may judge, too, how industrious the savages 
 had been, when I tell you that the whites who 
 wanted lead, commenced gathering their balls af- 
 ter they left, and succeeded in picking out of the 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 97 
 
 logs, and from the ground, one hundred and twenty- 
 five pounds. 
 
 Boone having thus successfully defended his 
 settlement, determined now to go in search of his 
 wife. Accustomed to travelling through the woods, 
 he soon made his lonely journey to the Yadkin. 
 They were amazed as he entered the house of 
 Mr. Bryan, his wife's father. The appearance of 
 one risen from the grave could not have surprised 
 them more than that of Boone — the lost man was 
 among them, and great was their rejoicing. He 
 now remained here with his family for some time, 
 and here we will leave him for a little while, to 
 talk of what happened in Kentucky during his 
 absence. 
 
 The Kentuckians, roused by the Indian hostil- 
 ity and treachery, determined soon after he left to 
 inflict punishment upon them ; against the Shawa- 
 nese they were most provoked ; it was among them 
 that most of the plots against the whites were 
 formed, and the attack, therefore, was to be made 
 upon them. An army of one hundred and sixty 
 men was soon collected, and the command was 
 given to a brave man named Colonel Bowman ; 
 they were to march directly against old Chilicothe, 
 the den of the savages. 
 
 In July of this year (1779), they started and 
 reached the home of the Indians, without being 
 discovered. At daylight, the fight commenced and 
 9 
 
98 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 continued till ten o'clock. Bowman's men fought 
 bravely, but the Indians had every advantage. 
 Knowing all the woods about their settlement, 
 while one party fought openly, the other, conceal 
 ed behind the grass and trees, poured in a deadly 
 fire upon the whites. He was forced at last to 
 retreat as rapidly as possible to a distance of thirty 
 miles ; but the Indians pursued him here, doing 
 more mischief than before. The savages fought 
 desperately. His men were falling around him, 
 and but for Colonel Harrod, every man of them 
 might have been killed. Seeing the slaughter 
 that was continually increasing, he mounted a 
 body of horsemen and made a charge upon the 
 enemy ; this broke their ranks, they were thrown 
 into confusion, and Bowman, with the remnant of 
 his men, was enabled to retreat. 
 
 This attack only exasperated the Indians. In 
 the course of the next summer (after doing much 
 mischief in a smaller way in the meantime), they 
 gathered together to the number of six hundred, 
 and led on by Colonel Bird, a British officer, came 
 down upon Riddle's and Martin's stations, at the 
 forks of Licking river. They had with them six 
 cannons, and managed their matters so secretly, 
 that the first news of their approach was given to 
 the settlers by the roar of their guns. Of course 
 it was of no use to resist ; the pickets could not de- 
 fend them from cannon-balls : the settlers were 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 99 
 
 forced to surrender. The savages rushed into the 
 station and instantly killed one man and two wo- 
 men with their tomahawks ; all the others, many of 
 whom were sick, were now loaded with baggage 
 and forced to march off with the Indians. It was 
 certain death to any one, old or young, male or fe- 
 male, who became, on the march, too weak and 
 exhausted to travel farther ; they were instantly 
 killed with the tomahawk. 
 
 Flushed with success, the Indians were now 
 more troublesome than ever; it was impossible 
 for the whites to remain in the country if matters 
 were to go on in this way. The inhabitants at 
 last threw themselves upon the protection of Col- 
 onel Clarke, who commanded a regiment of United 
 States soldiers at the falls of the Ohio. At the 
 head of his men and a large number of volunteers, 
 he marched against Pecaway, one of the principal 
 towns of the Shawanese ; numbers of the savages 
 were killed, and the town was burnt to ashes. 
 This was a triumph, but it was a triumph gained 
 by the loss of seventeen of his men. 
 
 In 1780, Boone again returned to Boonesborough 
 with his family, bringing with him also a younger 
 brother. The elder brother (who had been in 
 Kentucky before, as you will remember) now re- 
 turned also, and made his home at a spot not faV 
 from the place where the town of Shelbyville now 
 stands. The settlers were all delighted to see 
 
100 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 their old friend Daniel Boone once more among 
 them J they now felt that their leader was on the 
 ground. Mrs. Boone too felt happy. Though she 
 was again on " the dark and bloody ground,'' her 
 husband was with her. 
 
 In a little time his services were again especial- 
 ly needed. The want of salt, their old trouble 
 was upon them, and they looked to Boone to pro- 
 cure it. Ever ready, he started off with his young- 
 er brother to the Blue Licks, the place of his for- 
 mer trouble ; here he was destined to meet with 
 trouble again. They had made as much salt as 
 they could carry, and were now returning to 
 Boonesborough with their packs, when they were 
 suddenly overtaken by a party of savages ; the 
 Indians immediately fired, and Boone's brother fell 
 dead. Daniel Boone turned, levelled his rifle at 
 the foremost Indian, and brought him down ; with 
 a loud yell the party now rushed toward him. He 
 snatched his brother's rifle, levelled another, and 
 then ran. The Indians gave chase, but he managed 
 to keep ahead, and even found time to reload his 
 rifle. He knew that his only chance for escape 
 was to distance them, and break his trail. He 
 passed the brow of a hill, jumped into a brook 
 below, waded in it for some distance, and then 
 struck off at right angles from his old course. 
 Upon looking back he found, to his sorrow, that 
 he had not succeeded — the Indians were still on 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 101 
 
 his track. Presently, he came to a grape-vine, and 
 tried his old experiment at breaking the trail. This 
 was to no purpose, he found the savages still fol- 
 lowing him. After travelling some distance farther, 
 upon looking round he saw the cause of his 
 trouble ; the Indians had a dog with them, and this 
 dog, scenting his track, kept them for ever on his 
 course. His rifle was loaded— the dog was far 
 ahead of the party— and Boone sent a rifle ball 
 through him. He now pushed on, doubling his 
 course from time to time ; the Indians lost track 
 of him, and he reached Boonesborough in safety. 
 
 In spite of the continued annoyance of the Indians, 
 the white settlements had continued to grow, and 
 there were now so many white men in the coun- 
 try, that in the fall of this year (1780), Kentucky 
 was divided into the three counties of Jefferson, 
 Fayette, and Lincoln. Our friend, Daniel Boone, 
 was appointed to command the mihtia in his coun- 
 ty, and William Pope, and Benjamin Logan, two 
 brave men, were to have the command in theirs. 
 
 The winter of this year soon set in, and it proved 
 a hard one. The settlers, however, bore it cheer- 
 fully, for they were accustomed to hardships. 
 Hard as it was, too, it proved mild to the next that 
 followed. The winter of 1781 was long remem- 
 bered as " the cold winter" in Kentucky. To make 
 it harder, the Indians, after doing much mischief 
 through the summer, had destroyed most of the 
 9* 
 
102 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 crops the preceding fall, and the settlors had small 
 supplies of food. But the forest was around them ; 
 Boone and Harrod were among them, and these 
 two men found food enough. Every day they went 
 out in the winters storms — every night they came 
 in laden with deer and buffaloes. The people 
 learned to live on nothing but meat. Boone and 
 Harrod drove away all thoughts of starvation. 
 They had, however, this one comfort : the cold 
 weather kept the Indians at home. They had no 
 disturbances throughout the winter from them. 
 
 When spring opened, however, the savages 
 showed themselves more furious, if possible, than 
 ever. Their plans of mischief were better laid ; 
 they seemed to have been feeding their revenge 
 fat. Open and secret war was all around the set- 
 tlers. It would be idle for me to attempt to give 
 details of the doings of the savages. Ashton's, 
 Hoy's, M'Afee's, Kincheloe's, and Boone's sta- 
 tion, near Shelbyville, were all attacked. Men 
 were shot down in the open fields, or waylaid in 
 every pathway. The early annals of Kentucky 
 are filled with stories of many a brave white man 
 at this time. There were Ashton, Holden, Lyn, 
 Tipton, Chapman, White, Boone, Floyd, Wells, 
 the M'Afees, M'Gary, Randolph, Reynolds, and 
 others, some of whom were killed, and all of whom 
 had their hard struggles. The history of that 
 spring is only a story of burnings, captures, and 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 103 
 
 murders, on the part of the savages. It was a 
 dark period for the white men ; even Boone, with 
 all his vigor and fearlessness, thought it the dark- 
 est period he had known in that region. The 
 savages seemed bent upon a war of extermination. 
 
 Not satisfied with such mischief as they had al- 
 ready done, in the early part of the summer the 
 savages held a grand council at Old Chilicothe, to 
 arrange their plans for further destruction. There 
 were chiefs there from the Cherokees, Wyandots, 
 Tavvas, Pottawattomies, and most of the tribes bor- 
 dering on the lakes. Two notorious white villains 
 — whose names will never be forgotten in Ken- 
 tucky — were there also, to aid them with their 
 counsels. These were Girty and M'Kee, infamous 
 men, who lived among the Indians, and lived only 
 by murdering their own countrymen. Their plan 
 was soon settled. Bryant's station, near Lexing- 
 ton, was known to be a strong post, and this was 
 to be attacked. This station had within it forty 
 cabins, and here it was thought they might make 
 the greatest slaughter. The warriors were to 
 gather as rapidly as possible for the enterprise. 
 
 In a little time, five hundred of them rallied at 
 Girty's cabin, ready for their departure. The 
 white rascal then made a speech to them. He 
 told them that " Kentucky was a beautiful hunting- 
 ground, filled with deer and bufTaloes, for their 
 comfort ; the white men had come to drive thera 
 
104 THE ADVEXTURES OF 
 
 away ; the ground was now red with the blood of 
 the red men that had been slain. But vengeance 
 they would have^ — now, before the whites were 
 yet fastened in the country, they would strike a 
 blow, and drive them ofT for ever." Then he talked 
 of the plan before them. He advised them to de- 
 scend the Miami in their canoes, cross the Ohio, 
 ascend the Licking, and then they might paddle 
 their boats almost to the station. His speech was 
 answered by a loud yell from the Indians, and 
 they all started off for their boats — Simon Girty, 
 with his ruffled shirt and soldier coat, marching at 
 their head. 
 
 On the night of the 15th of August, they arrived 
 before the station. In the morning, as the gates 
 were opened, the men were fired at by the sav- 
 ages, and this was the first news to the whites of 
 the approach of the enemy. It was fortunate that 
 they had shown themselves thus early : in two 
 hours more, most of the men were to have started 
 off to aid a distant feeble station. As soon as the 
 whites found they were besieged, they managed to 
 send off the news to Lexington. 
 
 The Indians now, as usual, commenced their 
 stratagems. The large body concealed themselves 
 in the grass near the pathway to the spring, while 
 one hundred went round and attacked the southeast 
 angle of the station. Their hope was to draw the 
 whites all to that quarter, while they forced an en- 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 105 
 
 trance on the other side. But the white men under- 
 stood this sort of cunning ; they had lived among the 
 Indians toolongto be caught by such tricks : instead 
 of noticing the attack, they went on quietly with the 
 work of repairing and strengthening their pali- 
 sades. 
 
 But water, one of the necessaries of life, was 
 soon wanting. The whites, as they looked at the 
 tall grass and weeds near the spring, felt that In- 
 dians were lurking there. The women now came 
 forward and insisted upon it that they would go 
 and bring water. " What if they do shoot us ?" 
 they said ; " it is better to lose a woman than a 
 man at such a time." With that, they started 
 out, and, strange to tell, went back and forth, 
 bringing supplies of water, without any difficulty. 
 Some of the young men now went out upon the 
 same purpose. They had scarcely left the sta- 
 tion, when they were fired upon. Fortunately, the 
 Indians were too far to do any mischief ; the men 
 retreated rapidly within the palisades. The In- 
 dians, finding their stratagem fruitless, now rushed 
 forward, and commenced a tremendous attack. 
 The whites received them with a steady fire, and 
 many of them fell. Enraged the more, they now 
 discharged their burning arrows into the roofs of 
 the houses ; some of the cabins were burnt, but an 
 east wind was blowing at the time, and that saved 
 the station. 
 
106 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 The enemy now fell back into the grass. They 
 had found out, in some way, that help was expect- 
 ed from Lexington, and they were preparing to 
 cut it off. In a little time, all was still. Present- 
 ly sixteen horsemen, followed by thirty-one foot- 
 soldiers, were seen coming ; these were the men 
 from Lexington. Thinking only of the distress 
 of their friends, they were hurrying along, when 
 the Indians opened a fire upon them. The horse- 
 men galloped off in a cloud of dust, and reached 
 the station in safety. The soldiers on foot, in 
 their eflbrt to escape, plunged into the cornfields 
 on either side of the road, only to meet the ene- 
 my. A desperate fight commenced on both sides : 
 two soldiers were killed ; the rest — four of them 
 having dangerous wounds — reached the pickets. 
 The exasperated Indians, disappointed at the es- 
 cape of this party, now wreaked their vengeance 
 by killing all the cattle they could find. 
 
 Finding all their efforts to enter the station idle, 
 Simon Girty now came near enough to be heard, 
 mounted a stump, and holding in his hand a flag 
 of truce, began to talk. " Surrender promptly," 
 cried Simon ; " if you surrender promptly, no 
 blood shall be shed ; but if you will not surren- 
 der, then know that our cannons and reinforce- 
 ments are coming. We will batter down your 
 pickets as we did at Riddle's and Martin's ; every 
 man of you shall be slain ; two are dead already — 
 
DAXIEL BOONE. 107 
 
 four are wounded ; every man shall die." This 
 language was so insolent, that some of the settlers 
 cried out, " Shoot the rascal !" No man, however, 
 lifted his ritle ; the flag of truce protected him. 
 " I am under a flag of truce," cried Simon ; " do 
 you know who it is that speaks to you ?" 
 
 Upon this, a young man named Reynolds leaped 
 up and cried out, " Know you ! know you 1 yes, 
 we know you well. Know Simon Girty ! yes : he 
 is the renegado, cowardly villain, who loves to mur- 
 der women and children, especially those of his 
 own people. Know Simon Girty ! yes : his fa- 
 ther must have been a panther, and his mother a 
 w^olf. I have a v/orthless dog that kills lambs : 
 instead of shooting him, T have named him Simon 
 Girty. You expect reinforcements and cannon, 
 do you ? Cowardly wretches like you, that make 
 w^ar upon women and children, would not dare to 
 touch them off", if you had them. We expect re- 
 inforcements, too, and in numbers to give a short 
 account of the murdering cowards that follow you. 
 Even if you could batter down our pickets, I, for 
 one, hold your people in too much contempt to 
 shoot rifles at them. I would not waste powder 
 and ball upon you. Should you even enter our 
 fort, I am ready for you ; I have roasted a number 
 of hickory switches, with which we mean to whip 
 you and your naked cut-throats out of the coun- 
 try !" 
 
108 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Simon was now furious ; cursing and swearing, 
 he went back to his friends, amid the loud laughs 
 and jeers of the whites. In a little time, the firing 
 was renewed ; it was all to no purpose : no white 
 man suffered, and every Indian who came within 
 gun-shot of the fort was sure to fall. In the course 
 of the night the whole party sneaked off, and their 
 tracks indicated that they had started for the Blue 
 Licks. They left behind them thirty of their 
 number slain. 
 
DANIEL BOONE 
 
 J 09 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OLONEL TODD,of Lexing. 
 ton, instantly despatched news 
 of this attack on Bryant's sta- 
 tion, to Colonel Boone, at 
 Boonesborough, and Colonel 
 Trigg, near Harrodsburgh. In 
 a little time, one hundred and 
 seventy-six men were collect- 
 ed under these three officers, to 
 march in pursuit. Majors M'Gary 
 and Harland now joined them, de- 
 termined that they would have a 
 part in the punishment of the sav- 
 ages. It was known, too, that Colonel 
 Logan was collecting a force, and a 
 council of officers was at once held, to 
 determine whether they should march on, or wait 
 for him. They were all so eager to be off, that 
 It was thought bpst to march immediately. The 
 march was therefore commenced forthwith. 
 10 
 
110 THE ADVEXrURES OF 
 
 Following on in the trail of the Indians, they 
 had not gone far, when Boone saw enough to con- 
 vince him that the Indians would not only be wil- 
 ling, but glad to meet them. No effort had been 
 made to conceal their trail ; the trees were even 
 marked on their pathway, that the whites might 
 follow on ; and they had tried to conceal their 
 numbers, by treading in each other's footsteps. 
 He called the attention of his companions to this,, 
 but still they proceeded onward. 
 
 They saw no Indians until they came to the 
 Licking river, not far from the Blue Licks. A 
 party was now seen on the other side of the stream, 
 leisurely crossing a hill. A council was at once 
 held, and the officers all turned to Boone for ad- 
 vice. His advice was given frankly : he was for 
 waiting till Logan should arrive with his men. 
 The Indian party, he felt assured, was at the least 
 from four to five hundred strong, and the uncon- 
 cerned mode in which the Indians crossed the 
 hill showed that the main body was near, and their 
 design was to draw them over the river. More- 
 over, he was acquainted with all that region of the 
 country. After they crossed the ford, they would 
 come upon deep ravines not far from the bank, 
 where, no doubt, the Indians were in ainbush. If, 
 however, they were determined not to wait for 
 Logan, he advised that the country might at least 
 be reconnoitred before the attack was made. A 
 
DANIEL BOONE. Ill 
 
 part of the men, he thought, might cross the stream, 
 and move up cautiously on the other side, while 
 the remainder would stand where they were, 
 ready to assist them at the first alarm. Todd and 
 Trigg thought the advice good, and were disposed 
 to heed it ; but, just at this moment, Major M'Gary, 
 more hot-headed than wise, spurred his horse into 
 the water, gave the Kentucky war-whoop, and cried 
 out, "All those that are not cowards will follow 
 me ; I will show them where the Indians are." 
 The men were roused by this show of bravery, 
 and they all crossed the ford. 
 
 The banks were steep on the other side, and 
 many of them now dismounted, tied their horses, 
 and commenced marching on foot. M'Gary and 
 Harland led the way. They had not proceeded 
 far when they came to one of the ravines. It was 
 just as Boone had supposed ; the savages were in 
 ambush. A deadly fire was now poured in upon 
 the whites ; the men staggered and fell in every 
 direction. The fire was returned, but to little pur- 
 pose, for the enemy was completely concealed ; a 
 retreat was all that was left. The whites hurried 
 back toward the river ; the Indians pursued ; and 
 now commenced the slaughter with the tomahawk. 
 The ford was narrow, and multitudes were slaugh- 
 tered there. Some were trying to get to their 
 horses ; others, more fortunate, were mounted and 
 flying ; and some were plunging into the stream. 
 
112 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 In the midst of all this confusion, the Indians were 
 doing their work of destruction. 
 
 A man by the name of Netherland (who had 
 been laughed at for his cowardice) had never dis- 
 mounted his horse, and was the first to reach the op- 
 posite shore. In a little time, some of his comrades 
 were around him. He now turned, and, looking 
 back, saw the massacre that was going on. This 
 was more than he could bear. " Halt ! fire on the 
 Indians," cried he ; " protect the men in the river." 
 With this, the men wheeled, fired, and rescued 
 several poor fellows in the stream, over whom the 
 tomahawk was lifted. 
 
 Reynolds, the man who answered Girty's inso- 
 lence, made a . narrow escape. Finding, in the 
 retreat, one of the officers wounded, he gave him 
 his horse, and was soon after taken by three In- 
 dians. They were now over him, ready to de- 
 spatch him, when two retreating white men rushed 
 by. Two of the savages started in pursuit ; the 
 third stooped for an instant to tie his moccasin, 
 when Reynolds sprang away from him and es- 
 caped. 
 
 This was a terrible battle for the white men. 
 More than sixty of their number were slain, and 
 among them were most of their officers : Colonels 
 Todd and Trigg, Majors Harland and Bulger, Cap- 
 tains Gordon and M'Bride, and a son of Colonel 
 Boone, were all among the dead. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 113 
 
 Those who had regained the other shore, not 
 having strength to rally, started homeward in great 
 sadness. On their way they met Colonel Logan. 
 He had gone to Bryant's station with his five hun- 
 dred men, and was greatly disappointed when he 
 found they had all started without him ; he pushed 
 on, however, as rapidly as he could, hoping to 
 overtake them before they made their attack on 
 the savages. The sad story of the defeat was soon 
 told. All that remained to be done now was to go 
 back, and, if possible, bury the dead. Upon this 
 sad business Logan continued his march. Upon 
 reaching the ground, the spectacle was awful : the 
 dead bodies were strewn over it just as they had 
 fallen, the heat was intense, and birds of prey 
 were feeding upon the carcasses. The bodies 
 were so mangled and changed, that no man could 
 be distinguished ; friends could not recognise their 
 nearest relatives. The dead were buried as rap- 
 idly as possible, and Logan left the scene in great 
 sorrow. 
 
 Nor was this all the carnage. The Indians, af- 
 ter the defeat, had scattered, and it was soon found 
 that on their way homeward they had swept 
 through several settlements, carrying destruction 
 before them. Emboldened by their triumph, no 
 man could tell what they might next attempt. 
 
 It was no time for the whites to be idle. They 
 soon rallied in large numbers at Fort Washington, 
 10* 
 
114 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the present site of the city of Cincinnati. General 
 Clarke was at once made commander-in-chief, and 
 Colonel Logan was placed next under him in com- 
 mand. Clarke immediately started with a thou- 
 sand men to attack the Indian towns on the Miami. 
 On his way he came upon the cabin of Simon 
 Girty ; it was fortunate for Simon that a straggling 
 Indian spied Clarke's men coming, in time to let 
 him escape. The news was now spread every- 
 where that an army of white men was coming 
 from Kentucky. The consequence was, that as 
 Clarke approached the towns, he found them all 
 deserted ; the Indians had fled to the woods. His 
 march, however, was not made for nothing. The 
 towns of Old and New Chilicothe, Pecaway, and 
 Wills' Town, were all reduced to ashes. One 
 old Indian warrior was surprised, and surrendered 
 himself a prisoner. This man, to the great sor- 
 row of General Clarke, was afterward murdered 
 by one of the soldiers. 
 
 Notwithstanding this punishment, Indian mas- 
 sacres still went on. Stories of savage butchery 
 were heard of everywhere ; every station that they 
 dared approach felt their fury, and the poor settler 
 who had built his cabin away from any station was 
 sure to be visited. 
 
 General Clarke started out again, against the In- 
 dians on the Wabash. Unfortunately, his expedi- 
 tion failed this time, for the want of provisions for 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 115 
 
 his men. Another expedition of Colonel Logan, 
 against the Shawanese Indians, was more success- 
 ful. He surprised one of their towns, killed many 
 of their warriors, and took many prisoners. 
 
 The war had now become so serious, that in 
 the fall of 1785 the General Government invited 
 all the lake and Ohio tribes of Indians to meet at 
 the mouth of the Great Miami. It was hoped that 
 in this way matters might be settled peaceably. 
 But many of the tribes were insolent and ill-na- 
 tured ; they refused to come in, giving as an ex- 
 cuse that the Kentuckians were for ever molesting 
 them. Emboldened by the very invitation, they 
 continued the warfare more vigorou ly than ever. 
 They not only assaulted the settlements already 
 made, but made an attempt to guard the Ohio river, 
 to prevent any further settlers from reaching the 
 country in that direction. Small parties placed 
 themselves at different points on the river, from 
 Pittsburgh to Louisville, where they laid in am- 
 bush and fired upon every boat that passed. Some- 
 times they would make false signals, decoy the 
 boat ashore, and murder the whole crew. They 
 e . an went so far at last as to arm and man the 
 boats they had taken, and cruise up and down the 
 river. 
 
 I must tell you of a very bold defence made on 
 the Ohio about this time by a Captain Hubbel, who 
 w^s br'no-inff ^ par*y of emiscrint.*? from Vermont* 
 
116 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 His party was in two boats, and consisted in all 
 of twenty. As Hubbel came down the river, he 
 fell in with other boats, was told of the Indian 
 stratagems, and advised to be careful. Indeed, 
 the inmates of some of the boats begged that he 
 W(mld continue in their company, and thus they 
 would be able to meet the Indians better if they 
 should be attacked ; the stronger the party, the 
 better, in such a condition. But Hubbel refused 
 to do this, and proceeded onward. He had not 
 gone far, when a man on the shore began to make 
 signs of distress, and begged that the boat might 
 come and take him off. Hubbel knew well enough 
 that this was an Indian disguised as a white man, 
 and therefore took no notice of him. In a little 
 time, a party of savages pushed off in their boats, 
 and attacked him fiercely. The fight was hot on 
 both sides. The savages tried to board Hubbel's 
 boat, but the fire was too hot for this. Hubbel re- 
 ceived two severe wounds, and had the lock of his 
 gun shot off by an Indian ; still he fought, touch- 
 ing ofT his broken gun from time to time with a 
 firebrand. The Indians found the struggle too 
 hard, and were glad to paddle off. Presently they 
 returned, and attacked the other boat ; this they 
 seized almost without an effort, killed the captain 
 and a boy, and took all the women as prisoners to 
 their own boats. Now they came once more 
 against Hubbel, and cunningly placed the women 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 117 
 
 on the sides of their boats as a sort of bulwark. 
 But this (lid not stop Hubbel : he saw that his balls 
 must strike the women ; but it was better that they 
 should be killed now, rather than suffer a death of 
 torture from the savages, and the fire was at once 
 opened upon them again. They were soon driven 
 off once more. In the course of the action, how- 
 ever, Hubbel's boat drifted near the shore, and five 
 hundred savages renewed the fire upon them. One 
 of the emigrants, more imprudent than the rest, 
 seeing a fine chance for a shot, raised his head to 
 take aim, and was instantly killed by a ball. The 
 boat drifted along, and at length reached deep wa- 
 ter again. It was then found, that of the nine men 
 on board, two only had escaped unhurt ; two were 
 killed, and two mortally wounded. A remarkable 
 lad on board showed great courage. He now asked 
 his friends to extract a ball that had lodged in the 
 skin of his forehead ; and when this was done, he 
 begged that they would take out a piece of bone 
 that had been fractured in his elbow by another 
 ball. His poor frightened mother, seeing his suf- 
 fering, asked him why he had not complained be- 
 fore ; to which the little fellow replied that he had 
 been too busy, and, besides that, the captain had 
 told them all to make no noise. 
 
 It was idle to attempt now to settle matters 
 peaceably. The general government had tried 
 that and the plan had failed. The war was now 
 
118 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 to be carried on to a close, come what might. An 
 expedition was accordingly planned, against all the 
 tribes northwest of the Ohio. The Indians were 
 to be brought out, if possible to a general tight ; or, 
 if that could not be done, all their towns and cab- 
 ins on the Scioto and Wabash, were to be destroy- 
 ed. General Harmar was appointed commander 
 of the main expedition, and iMajor Hamtranck was 
 to aid him with a smaller party. 
 
 In the fall of 1791, Harmar started from 
 Fort Washington with three hundred and twenty 
 men. In a little time he was joined by the Ken- 
 tucky and Pennsylvania militia, so that his whole 
 force now amounted to fourteen hundred and fifty- 
 three men. Colonel Hardin, who commanded the 
 Kentucky militia, was now sent ahead with six 
 hundred men, principally militia, to reconnoitre the 
 country. Upon reaching the Indian settlements, 
 the savages set fire to their houses and fled ; to 
 overtake them, he pushed on with two hundred 
 of his men. A party of Indians met and attacked 
 them. The cowardly militia ran off, leaving their 
 brave companions to be slaughtered. It was a 
 brave struggle, but almost all were cut down ; only 
 seven managed to escape and join the main army. 
 
 Harmar felt deeply mortified! He commenced 
 forthwith his return to Fort Washington, but deter 
 mined that, on the way, he would wipe ofT this 
 disgrace from his army. Upon coming near Chili- 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 119 
 
 cothe he accordingly halted, and in the night des- 
 patched Colonel Hardin once more ahead, with 
 orders to find the enemy and draw them into an 
 engagement. About daybreak Hardin came upon 
 them, and the battle commenced. It was a des- 
 perate fight on both sides. Some of tlj^ militia 
 acted badly again, but the officers behaved nobly. 
 The victory was claimed on both sides, but I think 
 the Indians had the best of it. Three gallant offi- 
 cers, Fontaine, Willys, and Frothingham,were slain, 
 together with fifty regulars and one hundred militia. 
 
 Harmar now moved on to Fort Washington. So 
 much was said about his miserable campaign,that he 
 requested that he might be tried by a court-martial. 
 Accordingly he was tried and honorably acquitted. 
 
 A new army was soon raised, and the command 
 was now given to Major-General Arthur St. Clair. 
 His plan was to destroy the Indian settlements 
 between the Miamies, drive the savages from that 
 region, and establish a chain of military posts 
 there, which should for ever keep them out of the 
 country. All having rallied at Fort Washington, 
 he started off in the direction of the Miami towns. 
 It was a hard march, for he was forced to cut his 
 roads as he passed along. Upon arriving near the 
 Indian country, he built forts Hamilton and Jef- 
 ferson and garrisoned them. This left him nearly 
 two thousand men to proceed with. In a little 
 time some of the worthless militia deserted. This 
 
120 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 was a bad example to the rest, and St. Clair in 
 stantly sent Major Hamtranck, with a regiment, in 
 pursuh of them, while he continued his march. 
 When he arrived within fifteen miles of the Mia- 
 mi villages he halted and encamped ; he was soon 
 after joiped by Major Hamtranck, and St. Clair 
 proposed now immediately to march against the 
 enemy. 
 
 But the enemy had already got news of them, 
 aud had made ready. They were determined to 
 have the first blow themselves. At daybreak the 
 next morning, the savages attacked the militia and 
 drove them back in confusion. These broke 
 through the regiilars, forcing their way into the 
 camp, the Indians pressing hard on their heels. 
 The officers tried to restore order, but to no pur- 
 pose : the fight now became general. This, how- 
 ever, was only a small part of the Indian force — 
 there were four thousand of the party; they had 
 nearly surrounded the camp, and sheltered by the 
 trees and grass as usual, were pouring in a deadly 
 fire upon the whites. St. Clair and all his officers 
 behaved with great courage. Finding his men 
 falling fast around him, he ordered a charge to be 
 made with the bayonet. The men swept through 
 the long grass driving the Indians before them. 
 The charge had no sooner ceased than the In- 
 dians returned. Some forced their way into the 
 camp, killed the artillerists, wounded Colonel But- 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 121 
 
 ler, and seized the cannon. Wounded as he was, 
 Butler drove them back and recovered the guns. 
 Fired with new ardor, they returned again, once 
 more entered the camp — once more had posses- 
 sion of the cannon. All was now confusion among 
 the whites — it was impossible to restore order — 
 the Indians brought them down in masses — 
 a retreat was all that remained. But they were 
 so hemmed in, that this seemed impossible. Col- 
 onel Darke was ordered to charge the savages be- 
 hind them, while Major Clarke with his battalion 
 was commanded to cover the rear of the army. 
 These orders were instantly obeyed, and the dis- 
 orderly retreat commenced. The Indians pursued 
 them four miles, keeping up a running fight. At 
 last their chief, a Mississago, who had been train- 
 ed to war by the British, cried out to them to stop 
 as they had killed enough. They then returned 
 to plunder the camp and divide the spoils, while 
 the routed troops continued their flight to Fort Jef- 
 ferson, throwing away their arms on the roadside 
 that they might run faster. The Indians found in 
 the camp seven pieces of cannon, two hundred 
 oxen, and several horses, and had a great rejoi- 
 cing. Well might the Mississago chief tell his 
 people they had killed enough : thirty-eight com- 
 missioned ofhcers were slain, and five hundred 
 and ninety-three non-commissioned officers and 
 privates. Besides this, twenty-one officers and 
 11 
 
122 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 two hundred and forty-two men were wounded, 
 some of whom soon died of their wounds. 
 
 This was a most disastrous battle for the whites, 
 the most disastrous they had yet known. The 
 triumphant Indians were so delighted that they 
 could not leave the field, but kept up their revels 
 from day to day. Their revels, however, were at 
 length broken up sorrowfully for them. General 
 Scott, hearing of the disaster, pushed on for the 
 field with one thousand mounted A^olunteers from 
 Kentucky. The Indians were dancing and sing 
 ing, and riding the horses and oxen in high glee 
 Scott instantly attacked them ; two hundred wer» 
 killed, their plunder retaken, and the whole body 
 of savages driven from the ground. 
 
 When Congress met soon after this, of course 
 this wTetched Indian war was much talked of. It 
 was proposed at once to raise three additional 
 regiments. Upon this a hot debate sprang up, the 
 proposal was opposed warmly ; the opponents said 
 that it would be necessary to lay a heavy tax up- 
 on the people to raise them, that the war had been 
 badly managed, and should have been trusted to 
 the militia in the west under their own officers, 
 and, moreover, that no success could be expected 
 so long as the British continued to hold posts in 
 our own limits, and furnish the Indians with arms, 
 ammunition, and advice. 
 
 On the other hand, it was declared that the war 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 123 
 
 was a just and necessary one. It was shown that 
 in seven years (between 1783 and 1790), fifteen 
 hundred people in Kentucky had been murdered 
 or taken captives by the savages ; while in Penn- 
 sylvania and Virginia matters had been well nigh 
 as bad ; that everything had been done to settle 
 matters peaceably but all to no purpose. In 1790, 
 when a treaty was proposed to the Indians of the 
 Miami, they asked for thirty days to deliberate — 
 the request was granted — during those thirty days 
 one hundred and twenty persons had been killed 
 or captured, and at the end of the time the sav- 
 ages refused to give any answer to the proposal. 
 At last the vote was taken — the resolution passed 
 — the war was to be carried on — the regiments 
 were to be raised. 
 
 General St. Clair now resigned the command 
 of the army, and Major General Anthony Wayne 
 was appointed to succeed him. This appointment 
 gave great joy to the western people ; the man 
 was so well known among them for his daring and 
 bravery, that he commonly v/ent by the name of 
 " Mad Anthony." 
 
 After much delay, the regiments were at last 
 gathered together. Some still opposed this war 
 and in order to prove to them that the government 
 was willing to settle matters peaceably, if possible, 
 two officers — Colonel Hardin and Major Truman, 
 were now sent off to the Indians with proposals 
 
124 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 of peace. They were both seized and murdered 
 by the savages. 
 
 Wayne now started out upon his expedition. In 
 a little time he passed Fort Jefferson, took posses- 
 sion of St. Clair's fatal field, and erected a fort 
 there which he called Fort Recovery. He now 
 learned the truth of the stories about the British. 
 A number of British soldiers had come down from 
 Detroit, and fortified themselves on the Miami of 
 the lakes. It was rumored too, that in some of the 
 Indian fights and massacres, the English were 
 seen amonsf them, fighting and urging them on. 
 
 The General continued his march, and early ir 
 August reached the confluence of the Miami of 
 the Lakes and the Au Glaize. This was one of 
 the finest countries of the Indians, it was about 
 thirty miles from the British post, and he discov- 
 ered here, that two thousand warriors were near 
 that post ready to meet him. Wayne was glad to 
 hear this ; his army was quite as strong, and he 
 longed to meet the savages. As he drew near, 
 however, he determined once more to have peace 
 if possible, without shedding blood. A message 
 was sent to the Indians, urging them not to follow 
 the advice of bad men, to lay down their arms, to 
 learn to live peaceably, and their lives and their 
 homes should be protected by the government. 
 An insolent answer, was all that was received in 
 reply. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 125 
 
 Wayne's army now marclied on in columns — a 
 select battalion, under Major Price, moving in front 
 to reconnoitre. After marching about five miles, 
 Price was driven back by the fire of the Indians. 
 As usual, the cunning enemy was concealed ; 
 they had hid themselves in a thick wood a little 
 in advance of the British post, and here Price had 
 received their fire. 
 
 Wayne had now found out precisely where 
 they were, and gave his orders accordingly. The 
 cavalry under Captain Campbell were commanded 
 to enter the wood in the rear of the Indians, be- 
 tween them and the river, and charge their left 
 flank. General Scott, with eleven hundred mount- 
 ed Kentucky volunteers, was to make a circuit in 
 the opposite direction, and attack the right. The 
 infantry were to advance with trailed arms, and 
 rouse the enemy from their hiding-places. All 
 being ready, the infantry commenced their march. 
 The Indians were at once routed at the point of 
 the bayonet. The infantry had done the whole ; 
 Campbell and Scott had hardly the chance of do- 
 ing any of the fighting. In the course of an hour, 
 they had driven the savages back two miles ; in 
 fact, within gim-shot of the British post. 
 
 Wayne had now the possession of the whole 
 
 ground, and here he remained three days, burning 
 
 their houses and cornfields above and below the 
 
 fort. One Englishman suflJered, too, in this work 
 
 11* 
 
126 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 of destruction. Colonel M'Kee was known as a 
 British trader, for ever instigating the Indians against 
 the Americans, and Wayne did not scruple to 
 burn all his houses and stores likewise. Major 
 Campbell, who commanded the British fort, re- 
 monstrated at this, but Wayne gave him a bold and 
 determined answer in reply, and he had no more 
 to say. A few words from him would only have 
 caused Wayne to drive him from the country. 
 
 The army now returned to Au Glaize, destroy- 
 ing all the houses, villages, and crops by the way. 
 It was one complete work of destruction ; within 
 fifty miles of the river everything was destroyed. 
 In this campaign, W^ayne had lost one hundred and 
 seven men, and among them were two brave offi- 
 cers — Captain Campbell and Lieutenant Towles, 
 but still he had gained a glorious victory. In his 
 track, too, he had not forgotten to build forts, to 
 guard against the savages in future. 
 
 The story of the victory soon spread, and struck 
 terror to the hearts of the Indians north and south. 
 They were restless and dissatisfied, but w^ar was 
 sure destruction to them ; they felt that it was idle 
 to attempt it further, and were ready to be quiet. 
 In less than a year from this time, Wayne con- 
 cluded a treaty, in behalf of the United States, 
 with all the Indian tribes northwest of the Ohio. 
 The settlers at last had peace — a blessing which 
 they had long desired. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 127 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ITH the return of peace, the 
 settlers were very happy. 
 They could now go out, fell 
 the forests, and cultivate their 
 fields in safety. There was 
 no longer any wily savage to 
 lay in ambush, and keep them 
 in perpetual anxiety. No man 
 among them was happier than 
 Boone. He had been harassed by 
 constant struggles ever since he 
 came to Kentucky, and these strug- 
 gles with the savages had made him 
 a warrior rather than a hunter ; but he 
 could now return to his darling pas- 
 ^/j sion. While others cultivated the 
 
 ground, he roamed through the wilderness with 
 his rifle ; he was now a hunter indeed, spending 
 weeks and months uninterruptedly in the forests. 
 By day he moved where hr, pleased, and at night 
 made his camp fearlessly wherever the shades of 
 
128 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 night overtook him. His life was now happier 
 than ever. 
 
 Ere long, however, a cloud came over this hap- 
 piness. Men began again to crowd too closely 
 upon him. In spite of all the early struggles with 
 the savages in Kentucky, emigrants had continued 
 to flow into that country. As early as 1783, Ken- 
 tucky had been laid off into three counties, and 
 was that year formed into one district, and called 
 the District of Kentucky. In 1785, a convention 
 was called at Danville, and a memorial was ad- 
 dressed to the legislature of Virginia, proposing 
 that Kentucky should be erected into an indepen- 
 dent State. In 1786, the legislature of Virginia 
 took the necessary steps for making the new State, 
 if Congress would admit it into the Union. In 
 1792, Kentucky was admitted into the Union as 
 one of the United States of America. And now 
 that peace had come to aid the settlers, emigration 
 flowed in more rapidly. Court-houses, jails, judges, 
 lawyers, sheriffs, and constables, began necessa- 
 rily to be seen. Kentucky was becoming every 
 day a more settled and civilized region, and Boone's 
 heart grew sick. He had sought the wilderness, 
 and men were fast taking it away from him. He 
 began to think of moving. 
 
 Another sorrow now came over him, and soon 
 fixed in him the determination to seek a new home. 
 Men began to dispute with him the title to his 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 129 
 
 land. The State of Kentucky had not been sur- 
 veyed by the government, and laid off into sections 
 and townships, as the lands north of the Ohio river 
 liave since been. The government of Virginia 
 had issued certificates, entitling the holder to locate 
 where he pleased the number of acres called for. 
 To actual settlers, who should build a cabin, raise 
 a crop, &c., pre-emption rights to such lands as 
 they might occupy were also granted. Entries 
 of these certificates were made in a way so loose, 
 that different men frequently located the same 
 lands ; one title would often lap over upon anoth- 
 er ; and ahnost all the titles conferred in this way 
 became known as " the lapping, or shingle titles." 
 Continued lawsuits sprang out of this state of 
 things ; no man knew what belonged to him. 
 Boone had made these loose entries of his lands : 
 his titles, of course, were disputed. It was curi- 
 ous to see the old man in a court of law, which he 
 thoroughly despised, fighting for his rights. He 
 was greatly provoked ; he had explored and re- 
 deemed the wilderness, as he said, borne every 
 hardship with his wife and children, only to be 
 cheated at last. But the law decided against him ; 
 he lost his lands, and would now no longer remain 
 in that region. 
 
 Hearing that buffaloes arid deer were still plenty 
 about the Great Kanhawa river, he started thither 
 with his wife and children, and settled near Point 
 
130 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Pleasant. Here lie remained several years. Ho 
 was disappointed in not finding game as he expect- 
 ed, and was more of a farmer here than ever be- 
 fore ; he turned his attention earnestly to agricul- 
 ture, and was very successful in raising good 
 crops. Still he was dissatisfied ; he longed for 
 the wilderness. Hunting and trapping were the 
 constant thoughts of his life. 
 
 While living here, he met accidentally with a 
 party of men who had been out upon the upper 
 waters of the Missouri. These men talked of the 
 beauty of that region : they had stories to tell of 
 grizzly bears, buffaloes, deer, beavers, and otters — 
 in fact, the region was in their eyes " the paradise 
 for a hunter." Fired by these stories, Boone re- 
 solved to go there. Accordingly, he gathered to- 
 gether all that he possessed, and with his wife and 
 family started for Missouri, driving his herds and 
 cattle before him. It was strange to see an old 
 man thus vigorous in seeking a new home. He 
 was an object of surprise to everyone. When he 
 reached Cincinnati, on his route, some one, mark- 
 ing his age, and surprised at his adventure, asked 
 him how, at his time of life, he could leave all the 
 comforts of home, for the wilderness. His answer 
 shows his whole character : " Too much crowded, 
 too much crowded," said he ; " I want more elbow- 
 room." Travelling on, he at length reached Mis- 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 131 
 
 soiiri, and, proceeding about fifty miles above St. 
 Louis, settled in what is now St. Charles county. 
 
 Here everything pleased Boone. The country, 
 as you know, was then in the possession of the 
 French and Spanish, and the old laws by which 
 their territories were governed were still in force 
 there. They had no constitution, no king, no 
 legislature, no judges, lawyers, or sheriffs. An 
 officer called the commandant, and the priests, ex- 
 ercised all the authority that was needed. The 
 horses, cattle, flocks, and herds of these people all 
 grazed together upon the same commons ; in fact, 
 they were living here almost in primitive sim- 
 plicity. Boone's character for honesty and cour- 
 age soon became known among them, and he was 
 appointed by the Spanish commandant the com- 
 mandant over the district of St. Charles. 
 
 Boone now had the satisfaction of settling all 
 his children comfortably around him, and in the 
 unbroken wilderness his hunting and trapping was 
 unmolested. In his office of commandant he gave 
 great satisfaction to every one, and continued 
 to occupy it until Missouri was purchased by 
 our government from the French. When that 
 purchase was made, American enterprise soon 
 came upon him again — he was once more crowd- 
 ed by his fellow-men. His old office of command- 
 ant was soon merged in the new order of things 
 — his hunting-grounds were invaded by others, 
 
132 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Nothing remained for him now, but to submit to his 
 fate ; he was too old to move again, nor indeed did 
 he know where to go. He continued his old hab- 
 its, as well he might. He would start out with his 
 rifle, now marked with a paper sight to guide his 
 dim eye, and be absent from his home for weeks. 
 Nearly eighty years had passed over him, yet he 
 would lie in wait near the salt-licks, and bring 
 down his bufl^alo or his deer, and as bravely and 
 cheerily as in his younger days, would he cut down 
 bee-trees. As the light-hearted Frenchmen swept 
 up the river in their fleets of periogues on their 
 hunting excursions, Boone would cheer them as 
 they passed, and sigh for his younger days that 
 he might join their parties. He was a complete 
 Nimrod, now almost worn out. 
 
 It was while he was living here, I think, that 
 he was met by that A-^ery interesting man, Mr. Au- 
 dubon, the natural historian of our continent. He 
 was struck with the man, and has given the 
 story of his interview with Boone. It is so illus- 
 trative of the charactor of the hunter, that I give 
 it to you in Mr. Audubon's words. 
 
 " Daniel Boone, or as he was usually called in 
 the western country. Colonel Boone, happened to 
 spend a night under the same roof with me, more 
 than twenty years ago. We had returned from a 
 shooting excursion, in the course of which his 
 extraordinary skill in the management of a rifle 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 133 
 
 had been fully displayed. On retiring to the room 
 appropriated to that remarkable individual and my- 
 self for the night, I felt anxious to know more of 
 his exploits and adventures than I did, and accord- 
 ingly took the liberty of proposing numerous ques- 
 tions to him. The stature and general appear- 
 ance of this wanderer of the western forests, ap- 
 proached the gigantic. His chest was broad and 
 prominent ; his muscular powers displayed them- 
 selves in every limb ; his countenance gave indi- 
 cation of his great courage, enterprise, and perse- 
 verance ; and when he spoke, the very motion of 
 his lips brought the impression, that whatever he 
 uttered could not be otherwise than strictly true. 
 I undressed, while he merely took ofl' his hunting 
 shirt, and arranged a few folds of blankets on the 
 floor ; choosing rather to lie there, as he observed, 
 than on the softest bed. When we had both dis- 
 posed of ourselves, each after his own fashion, he 
 related to me the following account of his powers 
 of memory, which I lay before you, kind reader, 
 in his own words, hoping that the simpUcity of his 
 style may prove interesting to you. 
 
 " I was once," said he, " on a hunting expedi- 
 tion on the banks of the Green river, when the 
 lower parts of this (Kentucky) were still in the 
 hands of nature, and none but the sons of the soil 
 were looked upon as its lawful proprietors. We 
 Virginians had for some time been waging a war 
 12 
 
134 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 of intrusion upon them, and I, among the rest, ram- 
 bled through the woods, in pursuit of their race, 
 as I now would follow the tracks of any ravenous 
 animal. The Indians outwitted me one dark night, 
 and I was as unexpectedly as suddenly made a pris- 
 oner by them. The trick had been managed with 
 great skill ; for no sooner had I extinguished the 
 fire of my camp, and laid me down to rest, in full 
 security, as I thought, than I felt myself seized by 
 an indistinguishable number of hands, and was 
 immediately pinioned, as if about to be led to the 
 scaffold for execution. To have attempted to be 
 refractory, would have proved useless and danger- 
 ous to my life ; and I suffered myself to be re- 
 moved from my camp to theirs, a few miles dis- 
 tant, without uttering even a word of complaint. 
 You are aware, I dare say, that to act in this man- 
 ner, was the best policy, as you understand that 
 by so doing, I proved to the Indians at once,, that 
 I was born and bred as fearless of death as any 
 of themselves. 
 
 *' When we reached the camp, great rejoicings 
 were exhibited. Two squaws, and a few pap 
 coses, appeared particularly delighted at the sight 
 of me, and I was assured, by very unequivocal 
 gestures and words, that, on the morrow, the mor- 
 tal enemy of the red-skins would cease to live. I 
 never opened my lips, but was busy contriving 
 some scheme which might enable me to give the 
 
DANIEL BOONE, 135 
 
 rascals the slip before dawn. The women imme- 
 diately fell a searching about my hunting-shirt for 
 whatever they might think valuable, and fortunately 
 for me, soon found my flask, filled with Mononga- 
 hela (that is, reader, strong whiskey). A terrific 
 grin was exhibited on their murderous counten- 
 ances, while my heart throbbed with joy at the 
 anticipation of their intoxication. The crew im- 
 mediately began to beat their bellies and sing, as 
 they passed the bottle from mouth to mouth. How 
 often did I wish the flask ten times its size, and 
 filled with aquafortis ! I observed that the squaws 
 drank more freely than the warriors, and again 
 my spirits were about to be depressed, when 
 the report of a gun was heard at a distance. 
 The Indians all jumped on their feet. The 
 singing and drinking were both brought to a 
 stand ; and I saw with inexpressible joy, the men 
 walk off" to some distance, and talk to the squaws. 
 I knew that they were consulting about me, and I 
 foresaw, that in a few moments the warriors would 
 go to discover the cause of the gun having been 
 fired so near their camp. I expected the squaws 
 would be left to guard me. Well, sir, it was just 
 so They returned ; the men took up their guns 
 and walked away. The squaws sat down again, 
 and in less than five minutes they had my bottle 
 up to their dirty mouths, gurgling down their 
 throats the remains of the whiskey. 
 
136 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 " With what pleasure did I see them becoming 
 more and more drunk, until the liquor took such 
 hold of them that it was quite impossible for these 
 women to be of any service. They tumbled down, 
 rolled about, and began to snore ; when I, having 
 no other chance of freeing myself from the cords 
 that fastened me, rolled over and over toward the 
 fire, and after a short time burned them asunder. 
 I rose on my feet ; stretched my stiffened sinews ; 
 snatched up my rifle, and, for once in my life, 
 spared that of Indians. I now recollect how de- 
 sirous I once or twice felt to lay open the sculls 
 of the wretches with my tomahawk ; but when I 
 again thought upon killing beings unprepared and 
 unable to defend themselves, it looked like murder 
 without need, and I gave up the idea. 
 
 " But, sir, I felt determined to mark the spot, 
 and walking to a thrifty ash sapling, I cut out of 
 it three large chips, and ran off. I soon reached 
 the river ; soon crossed it, and threw myself deep 
 into the canebrakes, imitating the tracks of an In- 
 dian with my feet, so that no chance might be left 
 for those from whom I had escaped to overtake 
 me, 
 
 " It is now nearly twenty years since this hap- 
 pened, and more than five since I left the whites' 
 settlements, which I might probably never have 
 visited again, had I not been called on as a wit- 
 ness in a lawsuit that was pending in Kentucky 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 137 
 
 and which, I really believe, would never have been 
 settled, had I not come forward, and established 
 the beginning of a certain boundary line. This 
 is the story, sir, 
 
 " Mr. moved from old Virginia into Ken- 
 tucky, and having a large tract granted to him in 
 the new state, laid claim to a certain parcel of land 
 adjoining Green river, and as chance would have 
 it, he took for one of his corners the very ash tree 
 on which I had made my mark, and finished his 
 survey of some thousands of acres, beginning, as 
 it is expressed in the deed, * at an ash marked by 
 three distinct notches of the tomahawk of a white 
 man.* 
 
 " The tree had grown much, and the bark had 
 covered the marks ; but, some how or other, Mr. 
 
 heard from some one all that I have already 
 
 said to you, and thinking that I might remember 
 the spot alluded to in the deed, but which was no 
 longer discoverable, wrote for me to come and try 
 at least to find the place on the tree. His letter 
 mentioned, that all my expenses should be paid ; 
 and not caring much about once more going back 
 
 to Kentucky, I started and met Mr. . After 
 
 sonys conversation, the aflfair with the Indians 
 came to my recollection. I considered for a while, 
 and began to think that after all, I could find the 
 very spot, as well as the tree, if it was yet stand- 
 ing. • 
 
 12* 
 
138 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 " Mr. and I mounted our horses, and off 
 
 we went to the Green river bottoms. After some 
 difficulties, for you must be aware, sir, that great 
 changes had taken place in these woods, I found 
 at last the spot where I had crossed the river, and 
 waiting for the moon to rise, made for the course 
 in which I thought the ash tree grew. On ap- 
 proaching the place, I felt as if the Indians were 
 there still, and as if I was still a prisoner among 
 them. Mr. and I camped near what I con- 
 ceived the spot, and waited till the return of day. 
 
 " At the rising of the sun I was on foot, and 
 after a good deal of musing, thought that an ash 
 tree then in sight must be the very one on which 
 I had made my mark. I felt as if there could be 
 no doubt of it, and mentioned my thought to Mr. 
 
 . ' Well, Colonel Boone,' said he, ' if you 
 
 think so, I hope it may prove true, but we must 
 have some witnesses ; do you stay hereabout, and 
 I will go and bring some of the settlers whom I 
 
 know.' I agreed. Mr. trotted off, and I, to 
 
 pass the time, rambled about to see if a deer was 
 still living in the land. But ah! sir, what a won- 
 derful difference thirty years make in the country ! 
 Why, at the time when I was caught by the Jn- 
 dians, you would not have walked out in any di- 
 rection for more than a mile without shooting a 
 buck or a bear. There were ten thousands of buf- 
 faloes on the hills in Kentucky ; the land looked 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 139 
 
 as if it would never become poor ; and to hunt in 
 those days was a pleasure indeed. But when 1 
 was left to myself on the banks of the Green riv- 
 er, I dare say for the last time in my life, a few 
 sig}is only of deer were to be seen, and as to a 
 deer itself, I saw none. 
 
 " Mr. returned, accompanied by three gen- 
 tlemen. They looked upon me as if I had been 
 Washington himself, and walked to the ash tree 
 which I now called my own, as if in quest of a 
 long lost treasure. I took an axe from one of 
 them and cut a few chips off the bark. Still no 
 signs were to be seen. So I cut again, until I 
 thought it time to be cautious, and I scraped and 
 worked away with my butcher knife, until I did 
 come to where my tomahawk had left an impres- 
 sion in the wood. We now went regularly to 
 work, and scraped at the tree with care, until three 
 hacks, as plain as any three notches ever were, 
 could be seen. Mr. and the other gentle- 
 men were astonished, and, I must allow, I was as 
 much surprised as pleased, myself. I made affi- 
 davit of this remarkable occurrence in the presence 
 
 of these gentlemen. Mr. gained his cause. 
 
 I left Green river, for ever, and came to where 
 we now are ; and, sir, I wish you a good night." 
 
 Here, too, it was that he resided, when Mr. As- 
 tor attempted to carry out his magnificent design, 
 of settling Astoria on the western coast of our 
 
140 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 continent, and belting the earth with his com- 
 merce. When you are older, you can read the 
 beautiful history of that attempt, written by our 
 distinguished countryman Mr. Irving. As the par- 
 ty, bound for the far west, moved up the Missouri, 
 Boone stood upon the banks of the stream, looking 
 anxiously after them. It was just the adventure 
 to please him. There the old man stood, leaning 
 upon his rifle, his dim eye lighted up as he gazed 
 upon them, and his heart heavy with sorrow, be- 
 cause he was too old to press with them, beyond 
 the mountains.* 
 
 Other sorrows than those of age, now crept up- 
 on him. His wife, who had been to him all that 
 was good, was now taken from him, and the old 
 man was left widowed. With a sad heart he now 
 went to the home of his son, Major Nathan Boone. 
 
 The last war with England now broke out, too, 
 and penetrated even the wilds of Missouri. It 
 was the worst of all warfare — the savages were 
 let loose upon them. Boone was too old to act 
 the part of a soldier, but he sent off many substi- 
 tutes in his sons. 
 
 When peace returned, the spirit of the old man 
 rallied ; his ruling passion was still with him. 
 The woods were again his home, his rifle his com- 
 panion ; and thus he lived on, through a vigorous 
 old age, with a passion as strong as ever, a hunter 
 
 * See Irvinff's Astoria. 
 
DANIEL BOOXE. 141 
 
 almost to the very day of his death. For when, in 
 1818, death came upon him, he had but little no- 
 tice of its approach. With no disease but old age, 
 which had seemed comparatively vigorous almost 
 to the day of his departure, he died in his eighty- 
 fourth year. His mind was unclouded and he 
 passed from this world calmly and quietly. 
 
 I have but one thing more to say. You remem- 
 ber Daniel Boone's schoolboy days, of which I 
 have spoken. He left school a perfectly ignorant 
 lad. Some say that he afterward learned to write, 
 and produce as an evidence, a little narrative of his 
 wanderings in Kentucky, supposed to be written 
 by himself. I believe, however, that to the day of 
 bis death, he could not write his name. The narra- 
 tive spoken of, was, I think, dictated in some de- 
 gree by him, and written by another. At all events, 
 the story is interesting and curious, and, as such, 
 I have placed it for your benefit, as an appendix to 
 this volume. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF COLONEL D^iNIEL BOONE, 
 
 FORMERLY A HUNTER; 
 
 CONTAINING A NARRATIVE OF THE WARS OF KENTUCKY, 
 
 AS GIVEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 URIOSITY is natural to the 
 soul of man, and interesting 
 objects have a powerful influ- 
 ence on our affections. Let 
 f?^ these influencing powers ac- 
 tuate, by the permission or 
 disposal of Providence, from 
 selfish or social views, yet in 
 time the mysterious will of Heaven 
 is unfolded, and we behold our con- 
 duct, from whatsoever motives ex- 
 cited, operating to answer the im- 
 portant designs of Heaven. Thus 
 we behold Kentucky, lately a howling 
 wilderness, the habitation of savages 
 and wild beasts, become a fruitful field ; 
 this region, so favorably distinguished by nature, 
 
144 APPENDIX. 
 
 now become the habitation of civilization, at a pe- 
 riod unparalleled in history, in the midst of a 
 raging war, and under all the disadvantages of 
 emigration to a country so remote from the inhab- 
 ited parts of the continent. Here, where the hand 
 of violence shed the blood of the innocent ; where 
 the horrid yells of savages and the groans of 
 the distressed sounded in our ears, we now hear 
 the praises and adorations of our Creator ; where 
 wretched wigwams stood, the miserable abodes 
 of savages, we behold the foundations of cities 
 laid, that, in all probability, will equal the glory 
 of the greatest upon earth. And we view Ken- 
 tucky, situated on the fertile banks of the great 
 Ohio, rising from obscurity to shine with splendor, 
 equal to any other of the stars of the American 
 hemisphere. 
 
 The settling of this region well deserves a place 
 in history. Most of the memorable events I have 
 myself been exercised in ; and, for the satisfaction 
 of the public, will briefly relate the circumstances 
 of my adventures, and scenes of life, from my first 
 movement to this country until this day. 
 
 It was on the first of May, in the year 1769, 
 that I resigned my domestic happiness for a time, 
 and left my family and peaceable habitartion on 
 the Yadkin river, in North Carolina, to wander 
 through the wilderness of America, in quest of 
 the country of Kentucky, in company with Jolia 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 145 
 
 Finley, John Stewart, Joseph Holden, James Mo- 
 nay, and William Cool. We proceeded success- 
 fully, and after a long and fatiguing journey through 
 a mountainous wilderness, in a westward direc- 
 tion, on the 7th day of June following we found 
 ourselves on Red river, where John Finley had 
 formerly been trading with the Indians, and, from 
 the top of an eminence, saw with pleasure the 
 beautiful level of Kentucky. Here let me observe 
 that for some time we had experienced the most 
 uncomfortable weather, as a prelibation of our fu- 
 ture sufferings. At this place we encamped, and 
 made a shelter to defend us from the inclement 
 season, and began to hunt and reconnoitre the 
 country. We found everywhere abundance of 
 wild beasts of all sorts, through this vast forest. 
 The bufialo were more frequent than I have seen 
 cattle in the settlements, browsing on the leaves 
 of the cane, or cropping the herbage on those ex- 
 tensive plains, fearless, because ignorant, of the 
 violence of man. Sometimes we saw hundreds 
 in a drove, and the numbers about the salt springs 
 were amazing. In this forest, the habitation of 
 beasts of every kind natural to America, we prac- 
 tised hunting with great success until the 22d day 
 of December following. 
 
 This day John Stewart and I had a pleasing 
 ramble, but fortune changed the scene in the close 
 of it. We had passed through a great forest, on 
 13 
 
146 APPENDIX. 
 
 which stood myriads of trees, some gay with blos- 
 soms, and others rich with fruits. Nature was 
 here a series of wonders, and a fund of delight. 
 Here she displayed her ingenuity and industry in 
 a variety of flowers and fruits, beautifully colored, 
 elegantly shaped, and charmingly flavored ; and we 
 were diverted with innumerable animals present- 
 ing themselves perpetually to our view. In the 
 decline of the day, near Kentucky river, as we 
 ascended the brow of a small hill, a number of 
 Indians rushed out of a thick canebrake upon us, 
 and made us prisoners. The time of our sorrow 
 was now arrived, and the scene fully opened. 
 The Indians plundered us of what we had, and 
 kept us in confinement seven days, treating us 
 with common savage usage. During this time we 
 discovered no uneasiness or desire to escape, 
 which made them less suspicious of us ; but in 
 the dead of night, as we lay in a thick canebrake 
 by a large fire, when sleep had locked up their 
 senses, my situation not disposing me for rest, I 
 touched my companion, and gently awoke him. 
 We improved this favorable opportunity, and de- 
 parted, leaving them to take their rest, and speedily 
 directed our course toward our old camp, but found 
 it plundered, and the company dispersed and gone 
 home. About this time my brother. Squire Boone, 
 with another adventurer, who came to explore the 
 country shortly after us, was wandering through 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 147 
 
 the forest, determined to find me if possible, and 
 accidentally found our camp. Notwithstanding 
 the unfortunate circumstances of our company, and 
 our dangerous situation, as surrounded with hos- 
 tile savages, our meeting so fortunately in the 
 wilderness made us reciprocally sensible of the 
 utmost satisfaction. So much does friendship tri- 
 umph over misfortune, that sorrows and sufferings 
 vanish at the meeting not only of real friends, but 
 of the most distant acquaintances, and substitute 
 happiness in their room. 
 
 Soon after this, my companion in captivity, John 
 Stewart, was killed by the savages, and the man 
 that came with my brother returned home by him- 
 self. We were then in a dangerous, helpless sit- 
 uation, exposed daily to perils and death among 
 savages and wild beasts^— not a white man in the 
 country but ourselves. ^ 
 
 Thus situated, many hundred miles fro|||-our 
 families in the howling wilderness, I believe few 
 would have equally enjoyed the happiness we ex- 
 perienced. I often observed to my brother, " You 
 see now how little nature requires, to be satisfied. 
 Felicity, the companion of content, is rather found 
 in our own breasts than in the enjoyment of ex- 
 ternal things ; and I firmly believe it requires but 
 a little philosophy to make a man happy in what- 
 soever state he is. This consists in a full resig- 
 nation to the will of Providence ; and a resigned 
 
148 APPENDIX. 
 
 soul finds pleasure in a path strewed with briera 
 and thorns." 
 
 We continued not in a state of indolence, but 
 hunted every day, and prepared a little cottage to 
 defend us from the winter storms. We remained 
 there undisturbed during the winter ; and on the 
 1st day of May, 1770, my brother returned home 
 to the settlement by himself, for a new recruit of 
 horses and ammunition, leaving me by myself, 
 without bread, salt, or sugar, without company of 
 my fellow-creatures, or even a horse or dog. I 
 confess I never before was under greater neces- 
 sity of exercising philosophy and fortitude. A 
 few days I passed uncomfortably. The idea of a 
 beloved wife and family, and their anxiety upon 
 the account of my absence and exposed situation, 
 made sensible impressions on my heart. A thou- 
 sand dreadful apprehensions presented themselves 
 to nM| view, and had undoubtedly disposed me to 
 melancholy, if further indulged. 
 
 One day I undertook a tour through the country, 
 and the diversity and beauties of nature I met 
 with in this charming season, expelled every 
 gloomy and vexatious thought. Just at the close 
 of day the gentle gales retired, and left the place 
 to the disposal of a profound calm. Not a breeze 
 shook the most tremulous leaf. I had gained the 
 summit of a commanding ridge, and, looking round 
 with astonishing delight, beheld the ample plains, 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 149 
 
 the beauteous tracts below. On the other hand, 
 I surveyed the famous river Ohio that rolled in 
 silent dignity, marking the western boundary of 
 Kentucky with inconceivable grandeur. At a vast 
 distance I beheld the mountains lift their venera- 
 ble brows, and penetrate the clouds. All things 
 were still. I kindled a fire near a fountain of 
 sweet water, and feasted on the loin of a buck, 
 which a few hours before I had killed. The sul- 
 len shades of night soon overspread the whole 
 hemisphere, and the earth seemed to gasp after 
 the hovering moisture. My roving excursion this 
 day had fatigued my body, and diverted my im- 
 agination. I laid me down to sleep, and I awoke 
 not until the sun had chased away the night. I 
 continued this tour, and in a few days explored a 
 considerable part of the country, each day equally 
 pleased as the first. I returned again to my old 
 camp, which was not disturbed in my absence 
 I did not confine my lodging to it, but often reposed 
 in thick canebrakes, to avoid the savages, who, I 
 believe, often visited my camp, but, fortunately for 
 me, in my absence. In this situation I was con- 
 stantly exposed to danger and death. How un- 
 happy such a situation for a man tormented with 
 fear, which is vain if no danger comes, and if it 
 does, only augments the pain ! It was my happi- 
 ness to be destitute of this afl^icting fission, with 
 which I had the greatest reason to be affected. 
 13* 
 
150 APPENDIX. 
 
 The prowling wolves diverted my nocturnal hours 
 with perpetual howlings ; and the various species 
 of animals in this vast forest, in the daytime, were 
 continually in my view. 
 
 Thus I was surrounded by plenty in the midst 
 of want. 1 was happy in the midst of dangers 
 and inconveniences. In such a diversity, it was 
 impossible I should be disposed to melancholy. 
 No populous city, with all the varieties of com- 
 merce and stately structures, could afford so much 
 pleasure to my mind as the beauties of nature I 
 found here. 
 
 Thus, through an uninterrupted scene of sylvan 
 pleasures, I spent the time until the 27th day of 
 July following, when my brother, to my great fe- 
 licity, met me, according to appointment, at our 
 old camp. Shortly after, we left this place, not 
 thinking it safe to stay there longer, and proceeded 
 to Cumberland river, reconnoitring that part of the 
 country until March, 1771, and giving names to 
 the different waters. 
 
 Soon after, I returned home to my family, with 
 a determination to bring them as soon as possible 
 to live in Kentucky, which I esteemed a second 
 paradise, at the risk of my life and fortune. 
 
 I returned safe to my old habitation, and found 
 my family in happy circumstances. I sold my 
 farm on the Yadkin, and what goods we could not 
 carry with us ; and on. the 25th day of September, 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 151 
 
 1773, bade a farewell to our friends, and proceed- 
 ed on our journey to Kentucky, in company with 
 five families more, and forty men that joined us in 
 Powel's Valley, which is one hundred and fifty 
 miles from the now settled parts of Kentucky. 
 This promising beginning was soon overcast with 
 a cloud of adversity ; for, upon the 1 0th day of 
 October, the rear of our company was attacked 
 by a number of Indians, who killed six, and 
 wounded one man. Of these, my eldest son was 
 one that fell in the action. Though we defended 
 ourselves, and repulsed the enemy, yet this un- 
 happy affair scattered our cattle, brought us into 
 extreme difficulty, and so discouraged the whole 
 company, that we retreated forty miles, to the set- 
 tlement on Clinch river. We had passed over 
 two mountains, viz., Powel's and Walden's, and 
 were approaching Cumberland mountain when this 
 adverse fortune overtook us. These mountains 
 are in the wilderness, as we pass from the old 
 settlements in Virginia to Kentucky, are ranged 
 in a southwest and northeast direction, are of a 
 great length and breadth, and not far distant from 
 each other. Over these, nature hath formed pas- 
 ses that are less difficult than might be expected, 
 from a view of such huge piles. The aspect of 
 these cliffs is so wild and horrid, that it is impos- 
 sible to behold them without terror. The specta- 
 tor is apt to imagine that nature had formerly suf- 
 
152 APPENDIX. 
 
 fered some violent convulsion, and that these are 
 the dismembered remains of the dreadful shock : 
 the ruins, not of Persepolis or Palmyra, but of the 
 world ! 
 
 I remained with my family on Clinch until the 
 6th of June, 1774, when I and one Michael Stoner 
 were solicited by Governor Dunmore of Virginia 
 to go to the falls of the Ohio, to conduct into the 
 settlement a number of surveyors that had been 
 sent thither by him some months before ; this coun- 
 try having about this time drawn the attention of 
 many adventurers. We immediately complied 
 with the Governor's request, and conducted in the 
 surveyors — completing a tour of eight hundred 
 miles, through many difficulties, in sixty-two 
 days. 
 
 Soon after I returned home, I was ordered to 
 take the command of three garrisons during the 
 campaign which Governor Dunmore carried on 
 against the Shawanese Indians ; after the conclu- 
 sion of which, the militia was discharged from 
 each garrison, and I, being relieved from my post, 
 was solicited by a number of North Carolina gen- 
 tlemen, that were about purchasing the lands lying 
 on the south side of Kentucky river, from the 
 Cherokee Indians, to attend their treaty at Wataga, 
 in March, 1775, to negotiate with them, and men 
 tion the boundaries of the purchase. This I ac- 
 cepted ; and, at the request of the same gentle- 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 153 
 
 men, undertook to mark out a road m the best 
 passage from the settlement through the wilder- 
 ness to Kentucky, with such assistance as I 
 thought necessary to employ for such an impor- 
 tant undertaking. 
 
 I soon began this work, having collected a num- 
 ber of enterprising men, well armed. We pro- 
 ceeded with all possible expedition until we came 
 within fifteen miles of where Boonesborough now 
 stands, and where we were fired upon by a party 
 of Indians that killed two, and wounded two of 
 our number ; yet, although surprised and taken at 
 a disadvantage, we stood our ground. This was 
 on the 20th of March, 1775. Three days after, 
 we were fired upon again, and had two men killed, 
 and three wounded. Afterward we proceeded on 
 to Kentucky river without opposition ; and on the 
 1st day of April began to erect the fort of Boones- 
 borough at a salt lick, about sixty yards from the 
 river, on the south side. 
 
 On the fourth day, the Indians killed one of our 
 men. We were busily employed in building this 
 fort until the 14th day of June following, without 
 any further opposition from the Indians ; and hav- 
 ing finished the works, I returned to my family, on 
 Clinch. 
 
 In a short time I proceeded to remove my family 
 from Clinch to this garrison, where we arrived 
 safe, without any other difficulties than such as 
 
154 APPENDIX. 
 
 are common to this passage ; my wife and daugh- 
 ter being the first white women that ever stood on 
 the banks of Kentucky river. 
 
 On the 24th day cf December following, we 
 had one man killed, and one wounded, by the In- 
 dians, who seemed determined to persecute us for 
 erecting this fortification. 
 
 On the 14th day of July, 1776, two of Colonel 
 Calaway's daughters, and one of mine, were taken 
 prisoners near the fort. I immediately pursued 
 the Indians with only eight men, and on the 16th 
 overtook them, killed two of the party, and recov- 
 ered the girls. The same day on which this at- 
 tempt was made, the Indians divided themselves 
 into different parties, and attacked several forts, 
 which were shortly before this time erected, doing 
 a great deal of mischief. This was extremely 
 distressing to the new settlers. The innocent 
 husbandman was shot down, while busy in culti- 
 vating the soil for his family's supply. Most of 
 the cattle around the stations were destroyed. 
 They continued their hostilities in this manner 
 until the 15th of April, 1777, when they attacked 
 Boonesborough with a party of above one hundred 
 in number, killed one man, and wounded four. 
 Their loss in this attack was not certainly known 
 to us. 
 
 On the 4th day of July following, a party of 
 about two hundred Indians attacked Boonesbo- 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 155 
 
 rough, killed one man, and wounded two. They 
 besieged us forty-eight hours, during which time 
 seven of them were killed, and, at last, finding 
 themselves not likely to prevail, they raised the 
 siege, and departed. 
 
 The Indians had disposed their warriors in dif- 
 ferent parties at this time, and attacked the dif- 
 ferent garrisons, to prevent their assisting each 
 other, and did much injury to the distressed in- 
 habitants. 
 
 On the 19th day of this month, Colonel Logan's 
 fort was besieged by a party of about two hundred 
 Indians. During this dreadful siege they did a 
 great deal of mischief, distressed the garrison, in 
 which were only fifteen men, killed two, and 
 wounded one. The enemy's loss was uncertain, 
 from the common practice which the Indians have 
 of carrying off their dead in time of battle. 
 Colonel Harrod's fort was then defended by only 
 sixty-five men, and Boonesborough by twenty-two, 
 there being no more forts or white men in the 
 country, except at the Falls, a considerable dis- 
 tance from these : and all, taken collectively, were 
 but a handful to the numerous warriors that were 
 everywhere dispersed through the country, intent 
 upon doing all the mischief that savage barbarity 
 could invent. Thus we passed through a scene 
 of sufferings that exceeds description. 
 
 On the 25th of this month, a reinforcement of 
 
156 APPENDIX. 
 
 forty-five men arrived from North Carolina, and 
 about the 20th of August following, Colonel Bow- 
 man arrived with one hundred men from Virginia. 
 Now we began to strengthen ; and hence, for the 
 space of six weeks, we had skirmishes with 
 Indians, in one quarter or other, almost every- 
 day. 
 
 The savages now learned the superiority of the 
 Long Knife, as they call the Virginians, by expe- 
 rience ; being outgeneralled in almost every battle. 
 Our affairs began to wear a new aspect, and the 
 enemy, not daring to venture on open war, prac- 
 tised secret mischief at times. 
 
 On the 1st day of January, 1778, I went with 
 a party of thirty men to the Blue Licks, on Lick- 
 ing river, to make salt for the different garrisons 
 in the country. 
 
 On the 7th day of February, as I was hunting 
 to procure meat for the company, I met with a 
 party of one hundred and two Indians, and two 
 Frenchmen, on their march against Boonesborough, 
 that place being particularly the object of the 
 enemy. 
 
 They pursued, and took me ; and brought me 
 on the 8th day to the Licks, where twenty-scA'-en 
 of my party were, three of them having previously 
 returned home with the salt. I, knowing it was 
 impossible for them to escape, capitulated with 
 the enemy, and, at a distance, in their view, 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 157 
 
 gave notice to my men of their situation, with 
 orders not to resist, but surrender themselves 
 captives. 
 
 The generous usage the Indians had promised 
 before in my capitulation, was afterward fully 
 complied with, and we proceeded with them as 
 prisoners to Old Chilicothe, the principal Indian 
 town on Little Miami, where we arrived, after an 
 uncomfortable journey in very severe weather, on 
 the 18th day of February, and received as good 
 treatment as prisoners could expect from savages. 
 On the 10th day of March following, I and ten of 
 my men were conducted by forty Indians to De- 
 troit, where we arrived the 30th day, and were 
 treated by Governor Hamilton, the British com- 
 mander at that post, with great humanity. 
 
 During our travels, the Indians entertained me 
 well, and their affection for me was so great, that 
 they utterly refused to leave me there with the 
 others, although the Governor offered them one 
 hundred pounds sterling for me, on purpose to give 
 me a parole to go home. Several English gen- 
 tlemen there, being sensible of my adverse for- 
 tune, and touched v/ith human sympathy, gener- 
 ously offered a friendly supply for my wants, 
 which I refused, with many thanks for their kind- 
 ness — adding, that I never expected it would be 
 in my power to recompense such unmerited gen- 
 erosity. 
 
 14 
 
158 APPENDIX. 
 
 The Indians left my men in captivity with the 
 British at Detroit, and on the 10th day of April 
 brought me toward Old Chilicothe, where we ar- 
 rived on the 25th day of the same month. Thia 
 was a long and fatiguing march, through an ex- 
 ceeding fertile country, remarkable for fine springs 
 and streams of water. At Chilicothe I spent my 
 time as comfortably as I could expect ; was adopt- 
 ed, according to their custom, into a family, where 
 I became a son, and had a great share in the af- 
 fection of my new parents, brothers, sisters, and 
 friends. I was exceedingly familiar and friendly 
 with them, always appearing as cheerful and sat- 
 isfied as possible, and they put great confidence in 
 me. I often went a hunting with them, and fre- 
 quently gained their applause for my activity at 
 our shooting-matches. I was careful not to ex- 
 ceed many of them in shooting ; for no people are 
 more envious than they in this sport. I could 
 observe, in their countenances and gestures, the 
 greatest expressions of joy when they exceeded 
 me ; and, when the reverse happened, of envy. 
 The Shawanese king took gre?.t notice of me, and 
 treated me with profound respect and entire friend- 
 ship, often intrusting me to hunt at my liberty. I 
 frequently returned with the spoils of the woods, 
 and as oft on presented some of what I had taken 
 to him, expressive of duty to my sovereign. My 
 food and lodging were in common with them ; not 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 159 
 
 SO good, indeed, as I could desire, but necessity 
 made everything acceptable. 
 
 I now began to meditate an escape, and care- 
 fully avoided their suspicions, continuing with 
 them at Old Chilicothe until the 1st day of June 
 following, and then was taken by them to the salt 
 springs on Scioto, and kept there making salt ten 
 days. During this time I hunted some for them, 
 and found the land, for a great extent about this 
 river, to exceed the soil of Kentucky, if possible, 
 and remarkably well watered. 
 
 When I returned to Chilicothe, alarmed to see 
 four hundred and fifty Indians, of their choicest 
 warriors, painted and armed in a fearful manner, 
 ready to march against Bounesborough, I deter- 
 mined to escape the first opportunity. 
 
 On the 16th, before sunrise, I departed in the 
 most secret manner, and arrived at Boonesbo- 
 rough on the 20th, after a journey of one hun- 
 dred and sixty miles, during which I had but one 
 meal. 
 
 I found our fortress in a bad state of defence ; 
 but we proceeded immediately to repair our flanks, 
 strengthen our gates and posterns, and form double 
 bastions, which we completed in ten days. In 
 this time we daily expected the arrival of the In- 
 dian army ; and at length, one of my fellow-pris- 
 oners, escaping from them, arrived, informing us 
 that the enemy had, on account of my departure, 
 
160 APPENDIX. 
 
 postponed their expedition ;hree weeks. The 
 Indians had spies out viewing our movements, and 
 were greatly alarmed with our increase in num- 
 ber and fortifications. The grand councils of the 
 nations were held frequently, and with more de 
 liberation than usual. They evidently saw the 
 approaching hour when the Long Knife would 
 dispossess them of their desirable habitations ; 
 and, anxiously concerned for futurity, determined 
 utterly to extirpate the whites out of Kentucky. 
 We were not intimidated by thijir movements, but 
 frequently gave them proofs of our courage. 
 
 About the first of August, I made an incursion 
 into the Indian country with a party of nineteen 
 men, in order to surprise a small town up Scioto, 
 called Paint Creek Town. We advanced within 
 four miles thereof, where we met a parly of thirty 
 Indians on their march against Boonesborough, 
 intending to join the others from Chilicothe. A 
 smart fight ensued between us for some time ; at 
 length the savages gave way and fled. We had 
 no loss on our side ; the enemy had one killed, 
 and two wounded. We took from them three 
 horses, and all their baggage ; and being informed, 
 by two of our number that went to their town, that 
 the Indians had entirely evacuated it, we proceed- 
 ed no further, and returned with all possible expe- 
 dition to assist our garrison against the other 
 party. We passed by them on the sixth day, 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DAXIEL BOONE. 161 
 
 and on the seventh we arrived safe at Boonesbo- 
 rough. 
 
 On the 8th, the Indian army arrived, being four 
 hundred and forty-four in number, commanded by 
 Captain Duquesne, eleven other Frenchmen, and 
 some of their own chiefs, and marched up within 
 view of our fort, with British and French colors 
 flying ; and having sent a summons to me, in 
 his Britannic Majesty's name, to surrender the 
 fort, I requested two days' consideration, which 
 was granted. 
 
 It was now a critical period with us. We were 
 a small number in the garrison — a powerful army 
 before our walls, whose appearance proclaimed 
 inevitable death, fearfully painted, and marking 
 their footsteps with desolation. Death was prefer- 
 able to captivity ; and if taken by storm, we must 
 inevitably be devoted to destruction. In this situ- 
 ation we concluded to maintain our garrison, if 
 possible. We immediately proceeded to collect 
 what we could of our horses and other cattle, and 
 bring them through the posterns into the fort ; and 
 in the evening of the 9th, I returned answer that 
 we Avere determined to defend our fort while a 
 man was living. " Now," said I to their com- 
 mander, who stood attentively hearing my senti- 
 ments, " we laugh at your formidable preparations ; 
 but thank you for giving us notice and time to 
 provide for our defence. Your efforts will not 
 14* 
 
162 APPENDIX. 
 
 prevail ; for our gates shall for ever deny you ad- 
 mittance." Whether this answer affected their 
 courage or not I can not tell ; but, contrary to our 
 expectations, they formed a scheme to deceive us, 
 declaring it was their orders, from Governor Ham- 
 ilton, to take us captives, and not to destroy us ; 
 but if nine of us would come out, and treat with 
 them, they would immediately withdraw their 
 forces from our walls, and return home peaceably. 
 This sounded grateful in our ears ; and we agreed 
 to the proposal. 
 
 We held the treaty within sixty yards of the 
 garrison, on purpose to divert them from a breach 
 of honor, as we could not avoid suspicions of the 
 savages. In this situation the articles were for- 
 mally agreed to, and signed ; and the Indians told 
 us it was customary with them on such occasions 
 for two Indians to shake hands with every white 
 man in the treaty, as an evidence of entire friend- 
 ship. We agreed to this also, but were soon con- 
 vinced their policy was to take us prisoners. 
 They immediately grappled us ; but, although sur- 
 rounded by hundreds of savages, we extricated 
 ourselves from them, and escaped all safe into the 
 garrison, except one that was w^ounded, through a 
 heavy fire from their army. They immediately 
 attacked us on every side, and a constant heavy 
 fire ensued between us, day and night, for the 
 space of nine days. 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE> 163 
 
 In this time the enemy began to undermine our 
 fort, which was situated sixty yards from Ken- 
 tucky river. They began at the water-mark, and 
 proceeded in the bank some distance, which we 
 understood, by their making the water muddy with 
 the clay ; and we immediately proceeded to dis- 
 appoint their design, by cutting a trench across 
 their subterranean passage. The enemy, discov- 
 ering our counter-mine, by the clay we threw out 
 of the fort, desisted from that stratagem : and ex- 
 perience now fully convincing them that neither 
 their power nor poUcy could effect their purpose, 
 on the 20th day of August they raised the siege 
 and departed. 
 
 During this siege, which threatened death in 
 every form, we had two men killed, and four wound- 
 ed, besides a number of cattle. We killed of the 
 enemy thirty-seven, and wounded a great number. 
 After they were gone, we picked up one hundred 
 and twenty-five pounds weight of bullets, besides 
 what stuck in the logs of our fort, which certainly 
 is a great proof of their industry. Soon after this, 
 I went into the settlement, and nothing worthy of 
 a place in this account passed in my affairs for 
 some time. 
 
 During my absence from Kentucky, Colonel 
 Bowman carried on an expedition against the 
 Shawanese, at Old Chilicothe, with one hundred 
 and sixty men, in July, 1779. Here they arrived 
 
164 APPENDIX. 
 
 undiscovered, and a battle ensued, which lasted 
 until ten o'clock, A. I\I., when Colonel Bowman, 
 finding he could not succeed at this time, retreat- 
 ed about thirty miles. The Indians, in the mean 
 time, collecting all their forces, pursued and ovei- 
 took him, when a smart fight continued near two 
 hours, not to the advantage of Colonel Bowman's 
 party. 
 
 Colonel Harrod proposed to mount a number 
 of horse, and furiously to rush upon the savages, 
 who at this time fought with remarkable fury. 
 This desperate step had a happy effect, broke 
 their line of battle, and the savages fled on all 
 sides. In these two battles we had nine killed, 
 and one wounded. The enemy's loss uncertain, 
 only two scalps being taken. 
 
 On the 22d day of June, 1780, a large party of 
 Indians and Canadians, about six hundred in num- 
 ber, commanded by Colonel Bird, attacked Rid- 
 dle's and IMartin's stations, at the forks of Licking 
 river, with six pieces of artillery. They carried 
 this expedition so secretly, that the unwary inhab- 
 itants did not discover them until they fired upon 
 the forts ; and, not being prepared to oppose them, 
 were obliged to surrender themselves miserable 
 captives to barbarous savages, who immediately 
 after tomahawked one man and two women, and 
 loaded all the others with heavy baggage, forcing 
 vhem along toward their towns, able or unable to 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 165 
 
 inarch. Such as were weak and faint by the way, 
 they tomahawked. The tender women and help- 
 less children fell victims to their cruelty. This, 
 and the savage treatment they received afterward, 
 is shocking to humanity, and too barbarous to 
 relate. 
 
 The hostile disposition of the savages and theii 
 allies caused General Clarke, the commandant at 
 the Falls of the Ohio, immediately to begin an ex- 
 pedition with his own regiment, and the armed 
 force of the country, against Pecaway, the princi- 
 pal town of the Shawanese, on a branch of Great 
 Miami, which he finished with great success, took 
 seventeen scalps, and burnt the town to ashes, 
 with the loss of seventeen men. 
 
 About this time I returned to Kentucky with 
 my family ; and here, to avoid an inquiry into my 
 conduct, the reader being before informed of my 
 bringing my family to Kentucky, I am under the 
 necessity of informing him that, during my cap- 
 tivity with the Indians, my wife, who despaired 
 of ever seeing me again — expecting the Indians 
 had put a period to my life, oppressed with the 
 distresses of the country, and bereaved of me, her 
 only happiness — had, before I returned, transport- 
 ed my family and goods, on horses, through the 
 wilderness, amid a multitude of dangers, to her 
 father's house in North Carolina. 
 
 Shortly after the troubles at Boonesborough, I 
 
166 APPENDIX. 
 
 went to them, and lived peaceably there until this 
 time. The history of my going home, and return- 
 ing with my family, forms a series of difficulties, 
 an account of which would swell a volume ; and, 
 being foreig;n to my purpose, I shall purposely 
 omit them. 
 
 I settled my family in Boonesborough once 
 more ; and shortly after, on the 6th day of Octo- 
 ber, 1780, I went in company with my brother to 
 the Blue Licks ; and, on our return home, we were 
 fired upon by a party of Indians. They shot him, 
 and pursued me, by the scent of their dog, three 
 miles ; but I killed the dog, and escaped. The 
 winter soon came on, and was very severe, which 
 confined the Indians to their wigwams. 
 
 The severity of this winter caused great diffi- 
 culties in Kentucky. The enemy had destroyed 
 most of the corn the summer before. This neces- 
 sary article was scarce and dear, and the inhab- 
 itants lived chiefly on the flesh of bufi'alo. The 
 circumstances of many were very lamentable : 
 however, being a hardy race of people, and accus- 
 tomed to difficulties and necessities, they were 
 wonderfully supported through all their sufferings, 
 until the ensuing autumn, when we received 
 abundance from the fertile soil. 
 
 Toward spring we were frequently harassed by 
 Indians; and in May, 1782, a party assaulted 
 Ashton's station, killed one man, and took a 
 
THE ADVENTURKS OF DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 167 
 
 negro prisoner. Captain Ashton, with twenty- 
 five men, pursued and overtook the savages, and 
 a smart fight ensued, which lasted two hours ; but 
 they, being superior in number, obliged Captain 
 Ashton's party to retreat, with the loss of eight 
 killed, and four mortally wounded ; their brave 
 commander himself being numbered among the 
 
 dead. 
 
 The Indians continued their hostilities ; and, 
 about the 10th of August following, two boys were 
 taken from Major Hoy's station. This party was 
 pursued by Captain Holder and seventeen men, 
 who were also defeated, with the loss of four men 
 killed, and one wounded. Our affairs became 
 more and more alarming. Several stations which 
 had lately been erected in the country were con- 
 tinually infested with savages, stealing their horses 
 and killing the men at every opportunity. In a 
 field, near Lexington, an Indian shot a man, and 
 running to scalp him, was himself shot from the 
 fort, and fell dead upon his enemy. 
 
 Every day we experienced recent mischiefs. 
 The barbarous savage nations of Shawanese, Cher- 
 okees, Wyandots, Tawas, Delawares, and several 
 others near Detroit, united in a war against us, 
 and assembled their choicest warriors at Old 
 Chilicothe, to go on the expedition, in order to 
 destroy us, and entirely depopulate the country. 
 Their savage minds were inflamed to mischief by 
 
168 APPENDIX. 
 
 two abandoned men, Captains M'Kee and Girty. 
 These led them to execute every diabolical scheme, 
 and on the loth day of August, commanded a parly 
 of Indians and Canadians, of about five hundred in 
 number, against Bryant's station, five miles from 
 Lexington. Without demanding a surrender, they 
 furiously assaulted the garrison, which was hap- 
 pily prepared to oppose them ; and, after they had 
 expended much ammunition in vain, and killed the 
 cattle round the fort, not being likely to make 
 themselves masters of this place, they raised the 
 siege, and departed in the morning of the third 
 day after they came, with the loss of about thirty 
 killed, and the number of wounded uncertain. 
 Of the garrison, four were killed, and three 
 wounded. 
 
 On the 18th day, Colonel Todd, Colonel Trigg, 
 Major Harland, and myself, speedily collected 
 one hundred and seventy-six men, well armed, 
 and pursued the savages. They had marched 
 beyond the Blue Licks, to a remarkable bend of 
 the main fork of Licking river, about forty-three 
 miles from Lexington, where we overtook them 
 on the 19th day. The savages observing us, gave 
 way ; and we, being ignorant of their numbers, 
 passed the river. When the enemy saw our pro- 
 ceedings, having greatly the advantage of us in 
 situation, they formed the line of battle, from one 
 bend of Licking to the other, about a mile from 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 169 
 
 the Blue Licks. An exceeding fierce battle im- 
 mediately began, for about fifteen minutes, when 
 we, being overpowered by numbers, were obliged 
 to retreat, with the loss of sixty-seven men, seven 
 of whom were taken prisoners. The brave and 
 much-lamented Colonels Todd and Trigg, Major 
 Harland, and my second son, were among the 
 dead. We were informed that the Indians, num- 
 bering their dead, found they had four killed 
 more than we ; and therefore four of the pris- 
 oners they had taken were, by general consent, 
 ordered to be killed in a most barbarous manner 
 by the young warriors, in order to train them 
 up to cruelty ; and then they proceeded to their 
 towns. 
 
 On our retreat we were met by Colonel Logan, 
 hastening to join us, v^^ith a number of well-armed 
 men. This powerful assistance we unfortunately 
 wanted in the battle ; for, notwithstanding the 
 enemy's superiority of numbers, they acknowl- 
 edged, that, if they had received one more fire 
 from us, they should undoubtedly have given way. 
 So valiantly did our small party fight, that, to the 
 memory of those who unfortunately fell in the 
 battle, enough of honor can not be paid. Had 
 Colonel Logan and his party been with us, it is 
 highly probable we should have given the savages 
 a total defeat. 
 
 I can not reflect upon this dreadful scene, but 
 15 
 
170 APPENDIX. 
 
 sorrow fills my heart. A zeal for the defence of 
 their country led these heroes to the scene of ac- 
 tion, though with a few men to attack a powerful 
 army of experienced warriors. When we gave 
 way, they pursued us with the utmost eagerness, 
 and in every quarter spread destruction. The 
 river was difficult to cross, and many were killed 
 in the flight — some just entering the river, some 
 in the water, others after crossing, in ascending 
 the cliffs. Some escaped on horseback, a few on 
 foot ; and, being dispersed everywhere in a few 
 hours, brought the melancholy news of this un- 
 fortunate battle to Lexington. Many widows were 
 now made. The reader may guess what sorrow 
 filled the hearts of the inhabitants, exceeding 
 anything that I am able to describe. Being rein- 
 forced, we returned to bury the dead, and found 
 their bodies strewed everywhere, cut and man- 
 gled in a dreadful manner. This mournful scene 
 exhibited a horror almost unparalleled : some 
 torn and eaten by wild beasts ; those in the 
 river eaten by fishes ; all in such a putrefied con- 
 diti(m, that no one could be distinguished from 
 another. 
 
 As soon as General Clarke, then at the Falls 
 of the Ohio — who was ever our ready friend, and 
 merits tlie love and gratitude of all his country- 
 men — understood the circumstances of this unfor- 
 tunate action, he ordered an expedition, with all 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 171 
 
 possible haste, to pursue the savages, which was 
 so expeditiously effected, that we overtook them 
 within two miles of their towns : and probably 
 might have obtained a great victory, had not two 
 of their number met us about two hundred poles 
 before we came up. These returned quick as 
 lightning to their camp, with the alarming news 
 of a mighty army in view. The savages fled in 
 the utmost disorder, evacuated their towns, and 
 reluctantly left their territory to our mercy. We 
 immediately took possession of Old Chilicothe 
 without opposition, being deserted by its inhabit- 
 ants. We continued our pursuit through five 
 towns on the Miami rivers, Old Chilicothe, Peca- 
 way, New Chilicothe, Will's Towns, and Chili- 
 cothe — burnt them all to ashes, entirely destroyed 
 their corn, and other fruits, and everywhere 
 spread a scene of desolation in the country. In 
 this expedition we took seven prisoners and 
 five scalps, with the loss of only four men, two 
 of whom were accidentally killed by our own 
 army. 
 
 This campaign in some measure damped the 
 spirits of the Indians, and made them sensible of 
 our superiority. Their connexions were dissolved, 
 their armies scattered, and a future invasion put 
 entirely out of their power ; yet they continued to 
 practise mischief secretly upon the inhabitants, in 
 the exposed parts of the country. 
 
172 APPENDIX. 
 
 In October following, a party made an excur- 
 sion into that district called the Crab Orchard ; 
 and one of them, being advanced some distance 
 before the others, boldly entered the house of a 
 poor defenceless family, in which was only a 
 negro man, a woman, and her children, terrified 
 with the apprehensions of immediate death. The 
 savage, perceiving their defenceless situation, 
 without offering violence to the family, attempted 
 to capture the negro, who happily proved an 
 overmatch for him, threw him on the ground, and, 
 in the struggle, the mother of the children drew 
 an axe from a corner of the cottage, and cut his 
 head off, while her little daughter shut the door. 
 The savages instantly appeared, and applied their 
 tomahawks to the door. An old rusty gun-barrel, 
 without a lock, lay in a corner, which the mother 
 put through a small crevice, and the savages, per- 
 ceiving it, fled. In the mean time, the alarm 
 spread through the neighborhood ; the armed men 
 collected immediately, and pursued the ravagers 
 into the wilderness. Thus Providence, by the 
 means of this negro, saved the whole of the poor 
 family from destruction. From that time until the 
 happy return of peace between the United States 
 and Great Britain, the Indians did us no mischief. 
 Finding the great king beyond the w^ater disap- 
 pointed in his expectations, and conscious of the 
 importance of the Long Knife, and their own 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF DAXIEL BOONE. 173 
 
 wretchedness, some of the nations immediately de- 
 sired peace ; to which, at present [1784], they 
 seem universally disposed, and are sending am- 
 bassadors to General Clarke, at the Falls of the ' 
 Ohio, with the minutes of their councils. 
 
 To conclude, I can now say that I have verified 
 the saying of an old Indian who signed Colonel 
 Henderson's deed. Taking me by the hand, at 
 the delivery thereof — " Brother," said he, " we 
 have given you a fine land, but I believe you will 
 haA^ much trouble in settling it." My footsteps 
 have often been marked with blood, and therefore 
 I can truly subscribe to its original name. Two 
 darling sons and a brother have I lost by savage 
 hands, which have also taken from me forty valu- 
 able horses, and abundance of cattle. Many dark 
 and sleepless nights have I been a companion for 
 owls, separated from the cheerful society of men, 
 scorched by the summer's sun, and pinched by 
 the winter's cold — an instrument ordained to settle 
 the wilderness. But now the scene is changed : 
 peace crowns the sylvan shade. 
 
 What thanks, what ardent and ceaseless thanks 
 are due to that all-superintending Providence which 
 has turned a cruel war into peace, brought order 
 out of confusion, made the fierce savages placid, 
 and turned away their hostile weapons from our 
 country ! May the same Almighty Goodness ban- 
 ish the accursed monster, war, from all lands, with 
 
174 APPENDIX. 
 
 her hated associates, rapine and insatiable ambi- 
 tion ! Let peace, descending from her native 
 heaven, bid her ohves spring amid the joyful na- 
 'tions ; and plenty, in league with commerce, scatter 
 blessings from her copious hand ! 
 
 This account of my adventures will inform the 
 reader of the most remarkable events of this coun- 
 try. I now live in peace and safety, enjoying the 
 sweets of liberty, and the bounties of Providence, 
 with my once fellow-sufferers, in this delightful 
 country, which I have seen purchased with a vast 
 expense of blood and treasure : delighting in the 
 prospect of its being, in a short time, one of the 
 most opulent and powerful states on the continent 
 of North America ; which, with the love and grati- 
 tude of my countrymen, I esteem a sufficient reward 
 for all my toil and dangers. 
 
 DANIEL BOONE. 
 Fayette County, Kentucky. 
 
 THE END. 
 
J {)ny .s y\ \'v ii . 
 
 .\,)|.l>Hoii.,<r (••: N'.nr V..rk 
 
CHAPTER I. f 
 
 The birth of John Smith — His boyish restlessness 
 — His early adventures and wanderings — 
 His return home — His wanderings resumed — 
 ^fter strange adventures^ he enlists as a soldier 
 against the Turks — His brilliant exploits as a 
 soldier — He is taken captive at last and sold as 
 a slave to the Bashaw Bogal — He sends him to 
 Constantinople. 
 
 In the life of Henry Hudson* Captain John 
 Smith is spoken of as his " earliest and most 
 cherished companion." Of all the remarkable 
 men, who visited this new world for the purpose 
 of planting colonies, and subduing the wilder- 
 ness, there was none more remarkable than John 
 Smith. His life was a perfect romance, filled 
 with wild and roving adventures ; and I think 
 my young countrymen will be both instructed 
 and pleased by reading his history. Here, there- 
 fore, it is. 
 * See volume I. of A Library for my Young Countrymen, 
 
 2 
 
14 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 Unfortunately, we knew but little of the early 
 days of Hudson ; but Smith we can follow from 
 his boyhood up. He was born in Willoughby, 
 in the county of Lincolnshire, in England, of 
 respectable parents, in the year 1579, and, from 
 the earliest boyhood, began to shew his restless, 
 roving disposition. He was sent to school, a 
 very young lad, and soon distinguished himself 
 among his school-fellows for his bold, manly, 
 and adventurous sports. But books and schoolboy 
 confinement did not please him. Scarcely yet 
 thirteen years old, he sold his satchel, books, 
 and whatever other articles he could part with, 
 to raise money, that he might go to sea. All 
 this was unknown, at the time, to his friends, 
 and he would probably have succeeded in get- 
 ting away, had not the death of his father oc- 
 curred at the time, and thereby prevented it. 
 Now he was left in the hands of guardians. At 
 the age of fifteen they placed him as an ap- 
 prentice to a merchant at Lynn, hoping that this 
 might suit his turn of mind, and prove both 
 profitable and pleasant to him. Smith seems at 
 first to have liked this, for his thoughts were 
 still upon the ocean, and he hoped from time to 
 time that his master would send him to sea in 
 his ser\ice. But at last, disappointed in this, the 
 
JOHN SMITH. 15 
 
 I 
 
 counting-house became wearisome to him, and 
 he resolved to leave. With only ten shillings 
 in his pocket, therefore, which he says was 
 given to him by his friends " to get rid of him," 
 he left his employer. It was not long before 
 young Smith began to fear he had made a sad 
 mistake. Afraid to report himself to his guard- 
 ians, and fearful that, if he remained in England, 
 they would find him, and put him to some other 
 employment, it is said, he wandered about in 
 his poverty, scarcely knowing what to do ; his 
 heart resolved only upon this one thing, to start 
 abroad as soon as he could. He was a boy of 
 too much principle to steal, and yet he was too 
 poor to carry out his wishes. The story runs, 
 that in this sad state of mind, after wandering 
 another weary day, he was fortunate enough, in 
 stopping at a pubUc-house, to meet with a noble- 
 man who was about embarking for France, and 
 Smith was made happy, when he was allowed 
 to enter his train, and go along with him. They 
 journeyed on together now, until they reached Or- 
 leans, in France, but here, from some cause, they 
 parted. Whether the nobleman (as has been 
 said) found Smith wild and ungovernable, or 
 whether it was that he no longer had need of 
 his services, here he dismissed him. Yet he 
 
16 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 treated him with great generosity, foj he gave 
 him money, that he might return to England, 
 and hve among his friends. 
 
 Yet Smith had no thought of returning home, 
 and now it was that his travels fairly com- 
 menced. He first went to Paris, and after 
 spending a httle time there, he started for Hol- 
 land. There was in him always a love of 
 military life, a sort of military ardor; and 
 I have supposed that he moved toward the 
 "Low Countries," because, at that time, this 
 was the battle-ground of Europe. A struggle 
 was then going on between this country and 
 Spain. Certain it is, that he had scarcely reach- 
 ed the country, when he enlisted as a soldier; and 
 now, for some time, he served in the army, 
 greatly delighted with his new occupation. His 
 restless spirit, however, grew weary at last, even 
 of this. Meeting with a Scotch gentleman, (Mr. 
 David Hume,) he was supplied by him with 
 money, and letters to his friends in Scotland, 
 and advised to go with him to that country. 
 The principal inducement for his going was, (as 
 his Scotch friend assured him,) that he would 
 there find friendship and favor at the hands of 
 King James. Now, then, he embarked for Scot- 
 land. After suffering frr^m shipwreck, and a 
 
JOHN SMITH 17 
 
 violent fit of sickness, he at length arrived there, 
 and delivered his letters. These letters procured 
 for him kind attention, and he was treated with 
 great hospitality — though as far as the king 
 was concerned, he met with little patronage and 
 encouragement. His heart, therefore, began to 
 turn homeward, and he soon started off for his 
 native town, Willoughby. 
 
 Upon his arrival, his friends were all delighted 
 to see him, and were greatly pleased to hear him 
 i-ecount his travels. But this being over, he soon 
 tired of the companions around him : and now 
 he went to the woods and built him a httle 
 booth, where he might hve alone to himself. 
 Here he became very industrious in pursuing 
 his studies. His fondness for a soldier's hfe 
 set him upon the study of military history and 
 tactics ; and from time to time he would amuse 
 himself with sports of hunting and horseman- 
 ship. His books, his horse, and his lance were 
 almost the only objects that interested him. Af- 
 ter a time, it became generally known that 
 he was living in this quiet way : his strange 
 habits were much talked of, and this induced an 
 Italian gentleman, who was himself a great 
 horseman, to visit him. He soon made the ac- 
 quaintance of Smith, (for their tastes were alike,) 
 2* 
 
18 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 and at length persuaded him to leave his retire- 
 ment, and come back into the world. His little 
 lodge, therefore, was now deserted. 
 
 His restless spirit soon prompted him again 
 to roam. He now had the means of travelling, 
 (for he had received his portion of his father's 
 estate,) and in spite of the remonstrances and 
 entreaties of his friends, he resolved upon start- 
 ing pnce more. Again led, I suppose, by his mili- 
 tary ardor, he embarked for Flanders, hoping to 
 play the part of a soldier against the Turks. But 
 here his plans were altered. Accidentally meet- 
 ing with four Frenchmen, (one of whom passed 
 for a nobleman, and the other three for his attend- 
 ants,) he was persuaded to join them, and travel 
 with them into France. These men were vil- 
 lains, who noticing the youth and inexperience 
 of Smith, (for he was now only nineteen, some 
 say seventeen, years of age,) had resolved upon 
 robbing him. They all accordingly embarked for 
 France. It was a dark night -when they arrived 
 at St. Valery, in Picardy ; and now these im- 
 postors had made so much of a friend of their 
 captain, who w^as a villain like themselves, that 
 they were prepared to carry their plan into ex- 
 ecution. Accordingly, these four Frenchmen, 
 with the captain at their head, now went ashore 
 
JOHN SMITE. . 19 
 
 in the boat, taking with them the trunks of 
 Smith. The next morning the captain returned 
 with the boat. Upon being asked why he had 
 been gone so long, he stated, that he had been 
 prevented from returning by the high sea : but 
 the truth was, he had delayed only that his 
 thievish companions might escape with their 
 plunder before it was possible to overtake them. 
 The crew suspected the villany of the com- 
 mander, (for the luggage of Smith was now 
 missed,) and it is said that they proposed to 
 Smith to kill him, and seize the vessel and car- 
 go. This, however, he very properly refused to 
 do, and thus went ashore, poor and friendless. 
 Indeed, his poverty Avas now so great, that he 
 sold part of his clothing to pay his passage. 
 
 One of the sailors now took compassion upon 
 him, and paying his expenses, they travelled to- 
 gether as far as Mortaine, where the villains 
 lived, (for this sailor, it seems, knew them.) His 
 journey proved useless, as far as his trunks were 
 concerned, for being poor and without friends, 
 he found it impossible to recover any part of his 
 property. His desolate situation, however, called 
 out the sympathy of many good people, and he 
 was invited to their homes, kindly treated, and 
 supplied with further sums of money. 
 
20 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 Still eager to pursue his travels, and unwilling 
 to remain, receiving favors which he could not 
 return, he resolved upon leaving this place. 
 With a light heart, therefore, he started on foot 
 toward the sea-shore, hoping, in some one of 
 the seaport towns, to find a ship in w'hich he 
 might embark. In his wanderings, his money 
 was soon again exhausted. It was during this 
 journey that he accidentally met one day, near 
 Dinan, one of the villains who had robbed him. 
 Without saying a word, they both instantly drew 
 their swords. A crowd gathered "around them ; 
 Smith had wounded him, and he forced the 
 Frenchman to confess his guilt before the whole 
 multitude. This, however, was all he obtained, 
 for he found none of his property. Before he 
 reached the sea-shore, he suffered many priva- 
 tions. It is said, that after wandering one day 
 through a forest, he was so much exhausted to- 
 ward evening, by fatigue and exposure, that he 
 threw himself down by a fountain, expecting to 
 die there ; and would probably have died, had 
 not a kind farmer discovered him, and once more 
 supplied his Avants. 
 
 He now remembered an old friend, whom he 
 had seen before, (the Earl of Ployer,) and knew, 
 if he could reach him, he would receive sympathy 
 
JOHN SMITH. 21 
 
 and assistanct. Accordingly, he managed to 
 reach the home of this friend, and found all his 
 hopes realized. The Earl treated him with 
 marked kindness, and furnished him with money 
 for his journey. He now travelled along the 
 French coast to Bayonne, and thence crossed 
 over to Mai-seilles, noticing particularly, by the 
 way, any and every thing that fed his passion 
 for naval and military exploits. At Marseilles 
 he found a ship ready to sail for Italy. 
 
 In this ship it happened that there were a 
 number of pilgrims, going to Rome. Smith, 
 however, took passage with them, and new 
 troubles soon met him on the voyage. A storm 
 at first drove the vessel into the harbor of Tou- 
 lon : after the tempest had passed away, and 
 they were again on their voyage, head winds 
 ere long met them, and they were forced to an- 
 chor under the little island of Saint Mary, off 
 Nice, in Savoy. Here the pilgrims began to 
 murmur and complain. Their bigotry and mad- 
 ness induced them to suppose that Smith was 
 the cause of their troubles, because he was what 
 they called a heretic. They abused him, because 
 he was a Protestant, and Queen Elizabeth of 
 England, because she was known to protect 
 the Protestant religion : and they were scarcely 
 
22 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 again under way, when their madness carried 
 them so far, that they seized Smith, and without 
 any mercy, threw him overboard. What became 
 of the pilgrims, I cannot say, but a merciful 
 Providence watched over Smith, and sustained 
 him throuo;h the strus^g-le of swimmino- back to 
 the island. Weak and exhausted, he was in a 
 pitiable condition. He found no one near him—* 
 yet, with a heart of hope, he raised signals, 
 trusting that some ship passing by might mark 
 his distress. Fortunately, next day, a ship of 
 Saint Malo put in at the island for shelter, and 
 doubly fortunate he was when he found that the 
 commander of this ship was Captain La Roche, 
 a friend and neighbor to his old friend, the Earl 
 of Ployer. Of course. Smith now" met Avith every 
 attention. In a little time the vessel proceeded 
 on her voyage to Alexandria, in Egypt. Thence 
 she coasted the Levant. On her return home- 
 ward, she fell in wuth a Venetian vessel. The 
 French captain tried to speak her, but was an- 
 swered only by " a broadside," (the French ship 
 being mistaken, I suppose, for a pirate.) A 
 sharp action now commenced — Smith bearing 
 a bold part in it. After a hard contest, the 
 Venetian ship was taken, and found to be very 
 richly laden. All that was valuable was seized, 
 
JOHN SMITH. 23 
 
 and the conquerors divided the spoils. Smith, 
 for his valor, received as his share, a box con- 
 taining a thousand sequins, (about two thousand 
 dollars.) At his own request now^ he w-as landed 
 on the shore of Piedmont, and, with abundance 
 of money, travelled through Italy, marking every 
 thing that was interesting. His desire for mili- 
 tary glory Avas, however, still uppermost in his 
 heart, and crossing the Adriatic, he travelled on 
 till he came to Gratz, in Styria, the seat of Fer- 
 dinand, the Archduke of Austria. War \vas at 
 this time raging between the Germans and the 
 Turks ; and Smith, finding two of his country- 
 men at the place, was soon introduced to Lord 
 Eberspaught, Baron Kizel, Count Meldritch, 
 and other officers of distinction. He at once en- 
 listed as a volunteer, to serve in the army against 
 the Turks. 
 
 It w^as not long now, before his genius had 
 full scope to shew itself. The Turkish army, 
 (twenty thousand strong,) under Ibrahim Pasha, 
 having ravaged the neighboring country, were 
 now laying siege to the strong town of Olym- 
 pach. Lord Eberspaught was here, shut up with 
 his army, and cut off from all supplies and com- 
 munication with his friends. Smith served in 
 Baron Kizel's army, who was endeavoring to 
 
24 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 help Eberspaught in his perilous condition. De- 
 sirous of sending a message to him, and finding 
 it impossible, Smith now proposed to try his 
 plan for communicating with him — a plan of 
 which he had formerly talked with Eberspaught. 
 This was by means of a telegraph, which he had 
 invented. . Kizel consented, and Smith now went 
 at night with a guard, to a hill in sight of the 
 town, yet far enough to be unobserved by the 
 Turkish army. Raising his signals, he conveyed 
 to Eberspaught this message : " Thursday night 
 I will charge on the east ; at the alarm sally 
 thou" The signal was understood, and the an- 
 swer came back, " / will."* Making ready for 
 Thursday night, he prepared a number of 
 matches on a string, which he extended in a 
 line, in a certain direction. Just on the eve of 
 the attack, these matches were fired, and ex- 
 ploded like a roar of musketry. The Turks, 
 thinking they were attacked in that quarter, sal- 
 lied out to meet the enemy. Kizel, with his 
 army, rushed upon them at the moment — the 
 
 • Smith's method of communicating was by means of 
 torches. Each letter from A to L was designated by shew- 
 ing one torch as many times as corresponded to the letter's 
 place in the alphabet — each letter, from M to Z, was desig- 
 nated by shewing two torches after the same manner. The 
 end of a word was signified by shewing three lights. 
 
JOHN SMITH. 25 
 
 men in the garrison moved at the same time — 
 the Turks were routed, numbers of them were 
 slain, numbers driven into the river and drown- 
 ed, and two thousand of Kizel's men enter- 
 ed the garrison. The next day, the enemy 
 Avas glad to abandon the siege. This gallant 
 action gained great applause for Smith, and he 
 was at once appointed to the command of a troop 
 of two hundred and fifty horse, in the regiment 
 of Count Meldritch. 
 
 Flushed with success, the Emperor of Ger- 
 many now resolved to prosecute the war boldly, 
 and for this purpose three large armies were 
 raised. Smith served in that commanded by the 
 Archduke Matthias, the Emperor's brother. The 
 principal command of this force, how^ever, devolv- 
 ed upon the lieutenant, the Duke Mercury, and 
 Smith seems to have shared his particular confi- 
 dence. Ere long, they laid "siege to Alba Re- 
 galis, in Hungary. This was a town strongly 
 fortified by the Turks. Smith's skill here an- 
 noyed the enemy greatly, for he managed to 
 throw bombs from a sling, in the midst of them, 
 and two or three times succeeded in setting the 
 place on fire. After an obstinate resistance, this 
 place was taken with great loss to the Turks. 
 So unexpected was this result, that the Turks 
 3 
 
26 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 could hardly believe themselves routed : and it 
 is said, that one of their Bashaws, upon hearing 
 the sad news, would eat nothing the whole day, 
 but threw himself upon the ground, and con- 
 tinued to pray to Mahomet to deliver his coun- 
 trymen. The Sultan, however, could not rest 
 satisfied with this defeat, and sent an army of 
 sixty thousand men to recapture the place. The 
 Duke Mercury, hearing of the approach of this 
 vast number, was not dismayed, though his num- 
 bers were comparatively small. He marched 
 out to meet them, and, after a desperate battle, 
 defeated the Turks once more. The fight must 
 have been tremendous, for six thousand of the 
 Turks (it is said) were left dead upon the field. 
 Smith bore himself as usual, gallantly, through 
 the whole, escaping narrowly with his life. His 
 horse was shot under him, and he was severely 
 wounded. 
 
 In a little time, he was again at the head of 
 his own company, and with Count Meldritch, 
 marched into Transylvania. Here the Turks 
 were committing their ravages, and the Count 
 felt peculiarly excited against them, because his 
 family possessions lay in that region. A strong 
 body of Turks, after scouring the country, had 
 now fortified themselves in the town of Regal, 
 
JOHN SMITH. 27 
 
 among the mountains of Transylvania, and here 
 they felt, secure. With eight thousand men 
 Meldritch laid siege to this place. Fortunately, 
 he was soon after joined by Prince Moyses, with 
 nine thousand more. The place was so strong by 
 nature, and so strongly garrisoned, that the siege 
 proved long, and seemed, indeed, almost useless. 
 The Turks, feehng their strength, began to grow 
 insolent. At length one of their number, the 
 Lord Turbishaw, (for the purpose, as was 
 said, of amusing the Turkish ladies,) sent a chal- 
 lenge to any man of the Christian troops, who 
 dared come out to fight him. Lots w^ere now 
 cast, to see w^ho should accept this challenge ; 
 and the lot fell upon Smith. The time for the 
 meeting approached, and the battlements of the 
 town were Hned with ladies to witness it. Lord 
 Turbishaw, elegantly dressed in a magnificent 
 suit of armor, which blazed with gold, silver, 
 and jewels, now rode out into the field. Three 
 men attended him, one bearing his lance, and 
 two others moving by the side of his horse. 
 Smith rode out to meet him, attended only by a 
 page, who bore his lance. The trumpets now 
 sounded, (as the signal for battle,) and the 
 conflict commenced. It was soon ended; for 
 Smith, with his lance, thrust the Turk through 
 
28 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 the head, and he fell dead from his horse. Great 
 was the shout of joy now raised by the Christian 
 troops; and loud the lamentations among the 
 Turkish ladies. The conqueror now cut off the 
 head of Turbishaw, and bore it back in triumph 
 among his comrades, leaving his dead body ly- 
 ing upon the ground. This defeat was more 
 than the Turks could well bear, and a particular 
 friend of Turbishaw's, named Grualgo, was in- 
 flamed with rage. Burning to revenge the death 
 of his friend, he sent now a special challenge to 
 Smith, to meet him. The challenge was at once 
 accepted, and the next day fixed for the meet- 
 ing. It was agreed this time that the conqueror 
 should have the horse and the armor of the de- 
 feated. In the morning they met. At their first 
 attack, their lances were shivered — their pistols 
 were then discharged, and both were wounded, 
 Smith slightly, the Turk severely, in the arm. 
 Smith now had the advantage. The Turk, from 
 the wound in his arm, being: unable to manao^e 
 his horse, was easily slain; his head was also 
 taken from his body, and carried triumphant- 
 ly to the Christian troops. His horse and his 
 armor too, were now the trophies of the con- 
 queror. Proud of his success, in a haughty 
 spirit, Smith (by permission of his commander) 
 
JOHN SMITH. 29 
 
 now sent his challenge to the Turks. If the 
 ladies, he said, still desired amusement, and 
 would choose their champion, he would add his 
 head to the number he had taken, or lose his 
 own. A champion was soon found in the per- 
 son of a ferocious Turk, named Bonamolgro — 
 the challenge accepted, and terms agreed upon. 
 As Bonamolgro was the challenged person, and 
 had the choice of arms, having seen Smith's 
 skill in using the lance, he avoided this, and se- 
 lected for the weapons, pistols, battle-axes, and 
 swords. The next day they met ; their pistols 
 were first fired, without injuring either party, 
 and then they fought with battle-axes. The 
 Turk was more skilled than Smith in the use of 
 this ; and dealing him a heavy blow, he un- 
 horsed him, while his battle-axe fell from his 
 hand. The ramparts now rung with the shouts 
 of ladies, who supposed Smith was discomfited. 
 But Smith was a fine horseman, and this saved 
 him. In an instant, he rallied from the blow, 
 remounted his horse, and by dexterous manage- 
 ment of the animal, succeeded, not only in avoid- 
 ing the blows aimed at him by the Turk, but at 
 a favorable moment ran him through with his 
 sword. Bonamolgro fell to the ground, and his 
 head was also taken. The Turks were no dis- 
 3* 
 
30 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 heartened, and ere long the town was cap- 
 tured. 
 
 The triumph of the Christian forces was now 
 great ; but Smith's triumph was greater, for he 
 was the special hero of the occasion. He was 
 conducted to the pavilion of his general by a 
 military procession of six thousand men. Be- 
 fore these were led three horses, and in front of 
 all were the three Turks' heads, borne on the 
 points of .three lances. Here he was received 
 with great honor. The general embraced him 
 warmly, presented him with a horse, richly ca- 
 parisoned, a cimeter and belt, worth three hun- 
 dred ducats ; and, best of all, in Smith's estima- 
 tion, made him the major of a regnnent of men. 
 Nor was the honor of his exploits yet ended ; for 
 afterwards, when the Prince of Transylvania 
 heard of his valor, he presented to Smith his 
 picture, set in gold ; gave him a pension of three 
 hundred ducats a year, and granted him a coat 
 of arms, bearing three Turks' heads in a shield. 
 The motto of the coat of arms was this : " Fm- 
 cere est vivereJ' His fame was soon known at 
 home, as W' ell as abroad ; for this patent of the 
 Prince was afterwards admitted and recorded, in 
 the College of Heralds, in England, by Sir Henry 
 Segar, garter king at arms. Smith (it is said) 
 
JOHN SMITH. 31 
 
 always remembered this occasion w^th great ex- 
 ultation, and to the last day of his life was proud 
 of this motto. 
 
 His passion for a soldier's life naturally enough 
 grew stronger as he advanced in distinction, and 
 he was soon again in active service. In Wallachia, 
 which was at this time a Turkish province, the 
 inhabitants revolted against the reigning prince, 
 and proclaimed a new one Pressed with a 
 hard struggle, they applied to the Emperor of 
 Germany to aid them, and he at once took ad- 
 vantage of their position, and met their entreaty. 
 Count Meldritch, Smith, and other officers, with 
 an army of thirty thousand men, w^ent to the 
 assistance of the new prince. The deposed 
 prince, resolute upon maintaining his place, had 
 gathered together his forces, and now met them 
 with an army of forty thousand Turks and Tar- 
 tars. A desperate and bloody struggle followed : 
 the army of the Turks w^as routed, and only fif- 
 teen thousand made good their retreat. Twenty- 
 five thousand Turks (it is said) lay dead or 
 wounded upon the field, and the province was 
 now subject to the Emperor. 
 
 With a strong heart, the deposed prince was 
 still bent upon holding his place. He gathered 
 his troops again together, and was ere long heard 
 
32 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 of in the province of Moldavia. Count Meldritch 
 and Smith again met him. After several skilful 
 and successful skirmishes against him, they seem 
 to have been flushed with pride; and now pressing 
 eagerly on in a narrow^ and mountainous pass, near 
 the town of Rottenton, they were surprised by an 
 ambuscade. Here an army of forty thousand 
 men rushed suddenly upon them ; the Christian 
 troops fought boldly and desperately, but to little 
 or no purpose. They w^ere overpow^ered by num- 
 bers, and all w^ere slain or wounded, except 
 about thirteen hundred men, who, with Count 
 Meldritch at their head, escaped by swimming a 
 river. In this unfortunate struggle, Smith was 
 badly w^ounded, and left (as his friends sup- 
 posed) dead upon the field. In this, however, 
 they were deceived. The Turks discovered him, 
 bleeding among the heaps of the dead, and the rich- 
 ness of his dress and armor, as it turned out, saved 
 his life. Supposing him to be a man of rank 
 and distinction, they were too cruel to despatch 
 him, but saved him, that he might suffer a more 
 lingering and degrading torment than death. 
 His wounds were dressed, and after he had suffi- 
 ciently recovered, he, with many others of the 
 poor prisoners, were taken to a Turkish town, 
 and there sold as slaves, in the market-place. 
 
JOHN SMITH. 3b 
 
 It was Smith's lot to be purchased by the Ba- 
 shaw Bogal ; and he now sent him as a present 
 to his mistress, Tragabigzanda, in Constantino- 
 ple, accompanying the present with this false- 
 hood, that Smith was a Bohemian nobleman, 
 whom he had made prisoner in war 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Smith escapes from his captivity — He wanders 
 through Russia and Poland, a7id is kindly 
 entertained — Cordial meeting with his old 
 friends, in Transylvania — He journeys to 
 France, Spain, and Morocco — Returns to 
 England — Happiness of his friends at meet- 
 ing him — Meets with Bartholomew Gosnold, 
 and determines to sail for the JVew World — 
 Patent of King James for settling Virginia — 
 Their ships sail — Unkind treatment of Smith on 
 the voyage — The Colonists reach Jamestown — 
 Smith is refused his place as one of the 
 Council. 
 
 Smith fared fortunately in the hands of his 
 Turkish mistress. Being able to speak Italian, 
 and struck with the manly and noble bearing of 
 the captive, she from time to time held con- 
 versations with him, and learned the utter false- 
 hood of the Bashaw's message to her. Instead of 
 a Bohemian nobleman, she discovered that the 
 prisoner was an Englishman of good family, and 
 
JOHN SMITH. 35 
 
 promising prospects ; that he was a soldier of 
 fortune, who had fallen into his present position 
 in the struggle near Rottenton, and had never 
 seen the Bashaw, till they met in the market- 
 place. Smith now told her the whole story of his 
 wanderings, and the lady was captivated by the 
 man, and his adventures. Finding her heart 
 drawn toward him, and fearing that he might 
 be ill-used, or again sold, she resolved to do 
 what she could for his protection. She sent him 
 therefore to her brother Timour, the Bashaw of 
 Nalbraitz, who lived in the country of the Cam- 
 brian Tartars, on the borders of the Sea of 
 Azoph. To secure his good treatment, she sent a 
 letter with him, requesting her brother to treat 
 him kindly, and frankly teUing him, that she felt 
 a deep attachment for the prisoner. Her letter, 
 however, instead of helping Smith, as she de- 
 signed, only outraged her brother. He w^as 
 greatly indignant at the thought, that his sister 
 should love a Christian slave. In an hour after 
 his arrival, he was stripped of all his clothing — 
 his head and beard were shaved — an iron collar 
 was fastened round his neck — and clothed in a 
 suit of hair cloth, he was sent out to hard labor 
 among other poor Christian slaves. 
 
 Smith's situation was now pitiable enough 5 
 
36 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 but his bold spirit was unconquered. His com- 
 panions in misery were sad and in despair ; yet 
 he, though well nigh driven to despair, had ever 
 the hope of being again free, and watched every 
 opportunity of making his escape. He thought 
 first of running away, but he found that he was 
 watched so closely, that he could not move with- 
 out being seen. Day after day, therefore, he la- 
 bored on, but with a heart of hope, that he 
 should one day be rid of his bondage. How 
 long he was in captivity here, I cannot say, but 
 he at last made his escape in the following 
 manner. 
 
 He was employed one day in threshing corn, 
 at a farm-house, in a field, about three miles 
 from the place where his tyrannical master liv- 
 ed. The master was in the habit, at times, of 
 visiting the laborers at their work, and at such 
 times, not unfrequently, treated them with great 
 cruelty. On this occasion he visited the farm- 
 house, and having a personal dislike to Smith, 
 was not satisfied wdth abusing him, but beat 
 him and kicked him violently. This was more 
 than the proud spirit of Smith could endure. 
 Watching his opportunity, therefore, when no 
 one was present, he gave him a blow wdth his 
 threshing flail, and laid him senseless at his feet. 
 
JOHN SMITH. 37 
 
 No time was now to be lost. He at once dressed 
 himself in the Bashaw's clothes, hid his body un- 
 der the straw, filled a bag with corn, closed the 
 doors, mounted the Bashaw's horse, and gallop- 
 ed off into the wilderness. He was now free, but 
 in the midst of a wild desert, ignorant of his way. 
 In this desert he wandered for two or three 
 days, not knowing whither he was going, and 
 fortunately meeting no one who might have 
 marked his iron collar, known him as a slave, 
 and possibly recaptured him, or given notice, at 
 least, of his flight. At length it was his good 
 fortune to reach a cross-road, where a sign-post 
 directed him, on the main road to Russia. Keep- 
 ing this road, at the end of sixteen days, (dur- 
 ing which time his bag supplied him with his 
 only food,) he reached Ecopohs, upon the river 
 Don, where there was a garrison of the Russians. 
 The commander of the garrison, learning he was 
 a Christian, treated him with great kindness ; 
 his iron collar was taken off, and letters were 
 given to him, introducing him very kindly to the 
 other governors in that region. He now travelled 
 on through Russia and Poland, meeting every 
 where with kind attention. It was in some part 
 of this journey that he met with the lady Calla- 
 mata, who took a deep interest in him, and of 
 4 
 
38 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 whom Smith ever speaks with the utmost grati- 
 tude. At length he reached Transylvania. Here 
 he was welcomed with the greatest enthusiasm. 
 His fame was well known, and his old comrades 
 crowded around him, rejoicing once more to see 
 a friend, whom they supposed lost to them for 
 ever. At Leipsic he had a joyful meeting with 
 his old commander. Count Meldritch ; and the 
 Prince of Transylvania, (it is said,) hearing of 
 his arrival, sent for him, and gave him a present 
 of fifteen hundred ducats, to repair his losses. 
 Smith seems to have been so touched with this 
 kindness, that he was almost ready to listen to 
 the entreaties of these friends, and make his 
 home in their country. One thing alone pre- 
 vented, and that was the longing desire, which 
 naturally enough rested in his heart, to visit 
 once more his native land. Who loves not the 
 spot where he was born, and where he played in 
 his boyhood ? With a sad heart, therefore, he 
 tore himself from these friends, and journeyed 
 on. He passed through France, Germany, and 
 Spain, observing, as was his custom, every thing 
 attentively on his way. Now he was turned 
 aside from going directly home, by his old passion 
 for military life. Learning that a civil war had 
 broken out, in the kingdom of Morocco, he im- 
 
JOHN SMITH. 39 
 
 mediately sailed for that country, with the in- 
 tention of embarking in the struggle. Upon his 
 arrival, however, not being pleased with either 
 of the contending parties, he determined to take 
 no part in it whatever, and ere long set sail for 
 England. Strange adventures were still in his 
 way : for in his homeward course, he bore his 
 part in another naval battle. The ship in which 
 he sailed was attacked by two Spanish vessels 
 of war, and, after a desperate and bloody fight, 
 they were driven off. He soon now made his 
 landing in England, having (it is reported) in 
 his possession one thousand ducats, which, in ad- 
 dition to some property which he held in Eng- 
 land, enabled him, for the time, to feel quite in- 
 dependent. 
 
 Great was the joy between Smith and his 
 friends now, in his native land. While he glad- 
 ly told the story of his travels, they forgot the 
 sorrows of his exile in the delight of hearing 
 him. Their joy, however, was soon again over- 
 cast, for his untired spirit began to pant for 
 other adventures, and they knew that it was idle 
 to attempt to restrain him. The circumstances 
 which now roused his spirit, are circumstances 
 in w^hich we, as Americans, are nearly in- 
 terested 
 
40 JOHN S^nTH. 
 
 At this time, well nigh all Europe was filled 
 with a desire for maritime discoveries, and no- 
 w^here was this desire more ardent than in Eng- 
 land. Several voyagers had now crossed the 
 western waters, and seen portions of that New 
 World which had been discovered by Columbus. 
 Returning home, they had marvellous stories to 
 tell of its richness and beauty. More than this 
 had been done. Attempts had been made to 
 colonize a part of the new continent. The bold 
 genius of that noble Englishman, Sir Walter 
 Raleigh, had (even during the reign of the pre- 
 ceding sovereign, Queen Elizabeth) attempted 
 to plant a group of adventurers upon Roanoke 
 Mand, off the coast of Carolina; and though 
 this effort, with others, had failed, the desire for 
 the same sort of adventure was still strongly felt 
 in England; and as new tidings came from 
 time to time of the beauty of the new world, this 
 desire only increased. It happened about the 
 time of Smith's return home, that Bartholomew 
 Gosnold (who, in 1602, had made a voyage to 
 New England) was talking largely of the pros- 
 pects of the new world, and was himself desir- 
 ous and ready to make another adventure there, 
 for the purpose of planting a colony and sub- 
 •luing the Avilderness. Meeting with Smith, he 
 
JOHN SMITH. 41 
 
 found one ready to listen to his story and plans; 
 a strong friendship was soon formed between 
 them, and they determined to link their hopes 
 together in this new undertaking. They now 
 set resolutely to work, to secure sufficient patron- 
 age to carry out their design. Other voyagers 
 returning home, confirmed from time to time the 
 statements of Gosnold, and animated them the 
 more in their efforts. Ere long, they found sev- 
 eral noblemen and gentlemen, of like feeling 
 with themselves, (among whom we should espe- 
 cially remember Edward Maria Wingfield, a 
 merchant, Robert Hunt, a clergyman, and Rich- 
 ard Hackluyt,) and now they asked of King 
 James a royal patent, for making new dis- 
 coveries, and planting a colony in Virginia. 
 
 The king met these proposals, and on the 10th 
 of April, 1606, issued his letters patent to Sir 
 Thomas Gates, Sir George Somers, Richard 
 Hackluyt and others. By these letters, they 
 were allow^ed to possess all the territories in 
 North America, lying between the thirty-fourth 
 and forty-fifth degrees of north latitude, and all 
 islands within the same latitudes, wdthin one hun- 
 dred miles of the shore. These adventurers, I 
 believe, had asked the privilege of establishing 
 two colonies. At all events, they were divided 
 4* 
 
42 JOHN symi. 
 
 into two companies — one known as the London 
 or South Virginia Company — the other, as the 
 Plymouth Company. The two companies were 
 lo make their settlements within the territory 
 granted — one in tjie southern, the other in the 
 northern part of it, and their colonies were to be 
 kept one hundred miles apart These colonies 
 were to be governed by two councils, as they 
 were called, both selected by the king — one coun- 
 cil to reside in England, while the other resided 
 in the colony, and all laws made by the Colo- 
 nial Council were to be subject to repeal or al- 
 teration by the king or Supreme Council at home. 
 These terms were the best the petitioners could 
 obtain, and the London Company resolved at 
 once to act under them. 
 
 Some little delay w^as experienced in making 
 all ready, so that the 19th of December arrived, 
 before their ships w^ere ready to sail from Eng- 
 land. On that day three ships, one of one hun- 
 dred, another of forty, and another of twenty 
 tons, under the command of Captain Christopher 
 Newport, fell down the Thames, bound on a 
 voyage for Virginia. Of course, they were well 
 stocked with men and provisions for a colony. 
 Among the leaihng men on board, were Barthol 
 omew Gosnold, Captain Smith, Edward Wing- 
 
JOHN SMITH 43 
 
 field the merchant, and Robert Hunt the clergy- 
 man. They had with them, among other things, 
 a sealed box, containing " orders for government 
 in Virginia," which box was not to be opened 
 until their arrival there. 
 
 The ships were now detained for more than 
 six* weeks off the coast of England, by head 
 winds; and murmurings and complaints arose 
 among the adventurers. These, however, were 
 allayed, in some degree, by the affection and per- 
 severance of the good clergyman, Mr. Hunt. 
 Though a sick man, he forgot his own troubles 
 to make them happy. There w^ere some on 
 board who hated (it seems) him, and his profes- 
 sion, yet " all this" (we are told) " could never 
 force from him so much as a seeming desire to 
 leave the business, but he preferred the service 
 of God in so good a voyage, before any affection 
 to contest with his Godless foes, whose disastrous 
 designs (could they have prevailed) had even 
 then overthrown the business, so many discon* 
 tents did then arise, had he not with the water 
 of patience, and his Godly exhortations, (but 
 chiefly by his true devoted examples,) quenched 
 those flames of envy and dissension."* At 
 
 ♦ Smith's Virgiaia— Vol. I., page 150. 
 
44 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 length, with a fair wind, they shaped their 
 course for the new world, by the old route of the 
 Canaries and West India Islands. They had 
 scarcely reached the Canaries, when their mur- 
 murings became louder than ever, and it seems 
 now that poor Smith was unconsciously the prin- 
 cipal cause of them. His bold and manly bear- 
 ing, together with his conversation, had excited 
 the suspicion and jealousy of some of his com- 
 panions. They declared that he had the desire 
 and intention of murdering the council, and 
 making himself king of Virginia, and that he 
 had conspirators among the crew for that pur- 
 pose. Smith was too proud to make any expla- 
 nation, when he felt perfectly innocent, and the 
 consequence w^as, that he w^as now seized and 
 confined as a prisoner for the rest of the voyage. 
 They were also, it is said, outraged with Mr. 
 Hunt as his friend, and I presume his profession 
 and prudence alone saved him from the same 
 fate. They now steered from the Canaries, to 
 the West Indies. Among these islands they 
 spent three weeks, recruiting for their farther 
 voyage, and seem to have been much pleased 
 with the appearance of this new and strange 
 region. Thence they moved off for Virginia. 
 Visited with unsteady weather, for some tim^ 
 
JOHN SMilR. 45 
 
 they made but little progress— and having at one 
 time lost their reckoning for three days, many 
 of them became dissatisfied again, and urged 
 strongly a return to England. Fortunately, a 
 fine breeze relieved them in this time of discon- 
 tent, and on the 26th day of April, 1607, they 
 saw land, and entered Chesapeake Bay. The 
 land first seen was on the north side of the en- 
 trance to the bay. To this they gave the name 
 of Cape Henry, and to the point on the south side 
 of the entrance, the name of Cape Charles, both 
 in honor of the sons of King James. They sailed 
 into the first broad river which opened before 
 them, naming it after their king, James River. 
 For seventeen days now, they busied themselves 
 in findimr a convenient spot for their settlement, 
 and during this period landed several times, and 
 met the savages of the country. The first land- 
 ing was at Cape Henry, where thirty of the ad- 
 venturers went ashore. Here they found on 
 the flats abundance of oysters " laying as thick 
 as stones," and the land was covered with wild 
 flowers and fine strawberries. They were at- 
 tacked by five savages, and two of their number 
 badly wounded, before they drove them off with 
 their muskets. Again they landed at Point 
 Comfort, on the north side of the mouth of James 
 
4S JOHN SMITH. 
 
 River, (a place so named by themselves because 
 they found good anchorage there, which gave 
 them great comfort.) They met now some In- 
 dians, who at first were frightened, but upon one 
 of the white men's laying his hand upon his 
 neart, the savages felt that their intentions were 
 peaceable, and came directly to them, inviting 
 them to visit their 'town Kecoughtan, the place 
 where Hampton is now built. The invitation 
 was accepted, and when they reached the town, 
 both parties were well pleased. The Indians 
 feasted the strangers on cakes of Indian corn, 
 and entertained them with tobacco and a dance, 
 while the whites, in their turn, presented to them 
 beads and other trinkets. Then the chief of the 
 Rappahannas, hearing of them, sent a messenger 
 to invite them to come and see him, and to guide 
 them to his home. This invitation was also ac- 
 cepted, and they were received in great state by 
 the chief and his people. They stood upon the 
 banks of the river to meet them as they landed. 
 As soon as they were ashore, the chief came be- 
 fore them at the head of his train, " playing on 
 a flute made of a reed, with a crown of deer's 
 hair colored red, in fashion of a rose, fastened 
 about his knot of hair, and a great plate of cop- 
 per on the other side of his head, with two long 
 
JOHN SMITH. 47 
 
 feathers in fashion of a pair of horns, placed in 
 the midst of his crown. His body was painted 
 all with crimson, with a chain of beads about 
 his neck ; his face painted blue besprinkled with 
 silver ore ; his ears all behung with bracelets of 
 pearl, and in either ear a bird's claw through it, 
 beset with fine copper or gold." He now had 
 his mat spread upon the ground, and while his 
 people all stood around him, sat down and smok- 
 ed his pipe of tobacco. This being over, he 
 made signs to the whites to follow him to his 
 town. He went first, leading the way, the 
 Indians and whites all following, and after pass- 
 ing through beautiful woods and rich fields of 
 corn, they at length ascended a steep hill, and v/ere 
 at the palace of the chief of the Rappahannas. 
 Here they w^ere treated with great hospitality. 
 Ascending the river, they afterwards saw a body 
 of Indians, standing on the shore all armed, and 
 their chief, Apamatica — holding in one hand his 
 bow and arrow, and in the other his pipe of to- 
 bacco — boldly demanded what they had come 
 for. They made signs of peace, and were again 
 kindly entertained by him. Still passing on, at 
 the distance of thirty-two miles from the mouth 
 of the river, they found the shore on the north 
 side bold, and covered with heavy timber ; and 
 
48 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 the water near by being six fathoms deep, they 
 were enabled to moor their ships to the trees on 
 the land. The appearance of this spot pleased 
 them more than any they had seen j and upon 
 being visited by the chief of the Pashipays, who 
 offered them as much land as they needed for 
 their purpose, and gave them a deer for their en- 
 tertainment, they determined here to make their 
 settlement. It was now the 13th of JNIay — they 
 went ashore, pitched their tents, and gave to the 
 spot the name of Jamestown. When the sealed 
 box containing their orders was opened, it was 
 found that Bartholomew Gosnold, John Smith, 
 Edward M. Wingfield, Christopher Newport, 
 John Ratcliff, John Martin, and George Kendall, 
 were named as the council for the colony. Their 
 instructions were to choose a president from 
 among their number, for one year, and he, with 
 the help of the other counsellors, was to manage 
 the affairs of the colony. Matters of importance 
 were to be " examined by a jury, but determined 
 by the major part of the council, in which the 
 president had two voices." Edward M. Wing- 
 field was at once chosen president, and with all 
 the others, except John Smith, sworn into office. 
 They were still jealous and suspicious of this 
 man, (from no good cause whatever, as we shall 
 
JOHN SMITH. 49 
 
 see,) and thus refused him the place to which 
 he had been appointed. In fact, they even 
 went so far as to set forth a declaration to the 
 whole colony, shewing why he was not admitted 
 to his office. 
 
50 
 
 CHAPTER m. 
 
 J^oble conduct of Smith — Beginning of James- 
 town — WingfieWs imprudence in not prepar- 
 ing afort^ and having the men drilled to mil- 
 itary exercises — Smith visits the chief Powha- 
 tan — Attack upon Jamestown by the savages — 
 Smith demands a trial, and is acquitted — JVew- 
 port sails for England — Sufferings of the col- 
 ony — Selfishness of Wingfield — He tries to 
 escape from the colony, is preveiited, and de- 
 posed from the Presidency — Ratcliff is made 
 President — Being a weak man, the care of the 
 colony falls upon Smith — His excursion to 
 Kecoughtany to obtain supplies — His adven- 
 tures up the Chickahomony river — Is made 
 a prisoner by the hidians — His treatment by 
 the savages — Presents his compass to Opecan- 
 chanough, and saves his life thereby — Writes to 
 Jamestown — Is led about among various tribeSy 
 and at last brought to WerowcomocOy the resi- 
 dence of Powhatan. 
 
 The injustice done to Smith formed good 
 ground for a quarrel, (and he had some friends 
 among the colonists,) but his own magnanimity 
 
JOHN SMITH. 51 
 
 prevented it. They were all in a wilderness, 
 and much was to be done ere they could call 
 themselves at home. He forgot his own trouble, 
 therefore, in thinking of the good of the colony. 
 All hands now set resolutely to work. Some 
 went to clearing the forests, some to digging and 
 preparing garden-spots, some to making nets, 
 fixing up their fishing-tackle, &c. The Council 
 planned a fort, but from some cause; President 
 Wingfield did not desire a regular fortification, 
 and to please him, the fort was made to consist 
 only of the boughs of trees, loosely laid together 
 in the shape of a half moon. Some of the Coun- 
 cil, too, were in favor of having the men regular- 
 ly drilled to mifitary exercises, that they might 
 be ready at any time to meet an attack from the 
 savages, which attack they thought not unlikely 
 to take place ; but this too was thought idle by 
 President Wingfield, and consequently was neg- 
 lected. 
 
 Desirou* of learning something of the coun- 
 try, Newport and Smith were despatched with 
 twenty men, to discover the head of the river. 
 They passed, as they went up, many small 
 habitations, and on the sixth day reached the 
 falls of the river, where they erected a cross, 
 and took possession of the country in the name 
 
52 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 of King James. Near by, they visited the famous 
 Indian town, Powhatan. This consisted only of 
 twelve houses, pleasantly situated upon a sloping 
 hill, and was at the time the residence of the cele- 
 brated chief after whom it w^as named. Powhatan 
 (whose name rang through that region as the 
 greatest of Indian chiefs) received them with 
 great kindness, and was greatly delighted with 
 a hatchet, which was presented to him by Cap- 
 tain Newport. Some of his men seem to have 
 been suspicious of the English, and murmured 
 at their coming among them ; but Powhatan re- 
 buked them, saying, " Why should we be of- 
 fended ? they hurt us not, nor take any thing 
 by force : they want only a little ground, which 
 we can easily spare." The English now left 
 him and retm-ned to Jamestown. 
 
 Great w^as their surprise, on reaching home, 
 to find that the colony had been attacked by the 
 savages-— seventeen of their companions wound- 
 ed, and one boy killed. It was foitunate too 
 that they heard nothing worse than this : for the 
 whole company came near being massacred. 
 The colonists had not looked for the attack, and 
 were all unarmed, and the only thing that saved 
 them was, that " a cross-barre shot from the ships 
 struck down a bough of a tree in the midst of 
 
JOHN SMITH. 53 
 
 the Indians, and caused them to retire." The 
 president now saw his foily — the fort was at 
 once pahsadoed — five pieces of artillery were 
 mounted upon it ; and it was ordered that, after 
 this, the men should be armed and drilled 
 to their exercises. A re^lar guard was estab- 
 lished at night, also in the settlement, and the 
 men were cautioned about straggling into the 
 forests. 
 
 Six wrecks had passed away, and the ships 
 were well nigh laden for a return to Eng- 
 land. The accusers of Smith now came for- 
 ward, and, in pretended mercy, offered to send 
 his case home, to be judged by the Council in 
 England. They were unwilhng to try him them- 
 selves, (they said,) because they did not wish to 
 blacken his reputation, and perhaps take away 
 his life. Conscious of his innocence. Smith 
 spurned their proposal. He knew that his whole 
 conduct had been uniformly for the good of the 
 colony, and he now demanded that it should be 
 rigidly looked to — that he should be tried upon 
 the spot. The witnesses were brought for- 
 ward. Falsehood after falsehood was soon de- 
 tected among them. Some of them were convicted 
 of perjury, and the whole company at once saw 
 his innocence. His accusers were now con- 
 
54 TOHN SMITH. 
 
 founded. It was seen that Wingfield's jealousy 
 of Smith had urged false witnesses against him, 
 and it was decided that the president should pay 
 him two hundred pounds for the injury he had 
 done him. His property was at once seized, and 
 the two hundred pouiftls raised and paid over to 
 Smith, who immediately placed it in the pubhc 
 treasury, for the good of the colony. Thus, 
 after a patient imprisonment of thirteen weeks, 
 he triumphed over his enemies ; and his generous 
 and noble conduct had made him the most 
 popular man in the colony. He was now ad- 
 mitted to his place in the council, and by his in- 
 fluence and that of the good preacher, Mr. Hunt, 
 other little difficulties, which had arisen among 
 the colonists, were soon settled. The next Sun- 
 day they all went in harmony to the communion : 
 the neighboring Indians soon after came in, de- 
 siring terms of peace, and on the 22d of June, 
 Captain Newport was enabled to sail home- 
 ward, bearing good news along with him. He 
 left behind him, at Jamestown, one hundred and 
 four souls, and promised to be back among them 
 in twenty weeks, with fresh supplies. 
 
 Thus left, the colonists ere long began to suf- 
 fer for the want of provisions ; indeed, the want 
 (it is said) was felt at times before, and had been 
 
JOHN SMITH. 55 
 
 relieved at such times, by such supplies from the 
 ships' stores as the sailors could furnish. Some, 
 from this circumstance, have supposed that the 
 company at home was at fault, in not fitting out 
 the expedition better, and supplying it with ampler 
 provisions ; but this censure would hardly seem to 
 be just. The truth is, the colonists, instead of a 
 voyage of two months, (as was calculated,) had 
 made one of five, and consumed during this time 
 a large part of their stores; and then they had ar- 
 rived in Virginia too late for the spring plant- 
 ing, and thus failed in another expectation. 
 This seems to have caused the difficulty. Be 
 this as it may, the want occurred, and they were 
 now reduced to a regular daily allowance of a 
 half pint of barley, and a half pint of wheat. 
 To make their fare worse, the grain, from 
 having been so long in the ship's hold, was 
 filled with insects. Yet this diet they gladly 
 received, adding to it, from time to time, such 
 fish as they could take from the river. They 
 still kept on with their labors, however, exposed 
 as they were to the scorching rays of the sun by 
 day, and lying upon the ground, with a poor 
 shelter over them, at night. As might have 
 been expected, starvation, exposure, and anxiety, 
 brought on disease before the end of the fall 
 
56 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 season. By the end of September, fifty of their 
 number had died, among whom was Bartholo- 
 mew Gosnold. The rest w^ere now divided into 
 three watches, (for they still kept up the pre- 
 caution of a watch,) and of these not more than 
 five in each watch w^ere fit for duty at one 
 time. During this period of sad distress, the presi- 
 dent (it is said) thought only of himself. He 
 was well through the whole of it; and is charged 
 with having seized and secreted provisions for 
 his own use. His after conduct seems to con- 
 firm the charge — at least it shews that he had 
 but little sympathy with the sufferers. He, 
 with Kendall, was soon detected in a plan which 
 they had formed for seizing the pinnace, which 
 belonged to the colony — deserting the settle- 
 ment, and escaping to the West Indies. The 
 settlers w^ere now enraged, and at once took 
 from him the presidency, and banished Kendall 
 from the council. John RatclifF was chosen 
 president in his place, and he, with Martin and 
 Smith, were now the only members of the coun- 
 cil left. 
 
 RatclifF and Martin were men of little courage 
 or resolution, and thus the management of the 
 colony fell almost altogether upon Smith ; nor 
 could it have fallen upon a better or abler man. 
 
JOHN SMITH. 57 
 
 The first thing to be done was to obtain supphes, 
 and these they soon had without any difficulty. 
 Fortunately, their Indian neighbors proved friend- 
 ly, and came in, bringing such quantities of food 
 as they could spare. Their hearts were now 
 cheered ; and Smith, knowing that it was neces- 
 sary to make preparations for the approaching 
 winter as rapidly as possible, at once set the 
 men to work, resolutely leading the way himself. 
 His words and his example encouraged them 
 They commenced cutting timber for building 
 houses, and mowing and binding thatch for cov- 
 ering them ; so that in a little time, Jamestown 
 was a comfortable village, in which every man 
 had a shelter and home, except Smith himself. 
 The stock of provisions which the Indians had 
 brought in being now nearly exhausted, it was 
 necessary to look out for more. He chose, there- 
 fore, five or six of the best men as his compan- 
 ions, and, well armed, they went down the river 
 in the shallop to Kecoughtan, the place where 
 Hampton now stands. Here they found but lit- 
 tle good feehng toward them. The Indians, 
 knowing their necessity, and the starving state 
 of the colony, treated them with great contempt. 
 When they offered to trade with them, the sava- 
 ges would give them only an ear of corn for a 
 
58 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 sword, a musket, or one of their garments Pro- 
 voked by such conduct, and finding that they 
 were not likely to obtain anything by kind and 
 gentle treatment, Smith now resolved upon a 
 bold experiment. He ordered the boat to be 
 drawn ashore, and his men to fire their muskets. 
 The frightened Indians now fled to the woods for 
 shelter : and the party immediately went to their 
 houses, searching for corn. Of this they found 
 an abundance : but Smith would not allow them 
 yet to touch it. Fearing the treachery of the In- 
 dians, he supposed they would soon appear again 
 and make a general attack upon him. He there- 
 fore made ready for them : nor was he disap- 
 pointed. In a little time some sixty or seventy 
 of them, painted of different colors, were seen 
 advancing in the form of a hollow square, bring- 
 ing their idol Okee in the midst of them. This 
 idol was nothing more than a figure made of 
 skins, stufTed with moss, and ornamented with 
 chains of copper. The savages were armed 
 with clubs, bows and arrows, and approached in 
 great confidence, singing and dancing. Smith 
 and his men again discharged their muskets, 
 bringing many of them to the ground, and 
 with them their idol Okee. The battle was at 
 once over ; the rest now fled to the woods, and 
 
JOHN SMITH. 59 
 
 soon after sent some of their number to beg for 
 peace, and to recover their idol. Smith, now tri- 
 umphant, was in a condition to make his own 
 terms. He agreed that if six of them, unarmed, 
 would come and load his boat with corn, he 
 would return their idol, be their friend, and give 
 them presents of beads, hatchets, and copper. 
 The terms were faithfully performed on both 
 sides ; indeed, the Indians w^ere so much pleased, 
 that they brought, besides, venison, turkeys, and 
 other game, and kept up their singing and danc- 
 ing until the white men left for Jamestown. 
 
 Finding himself so successful in this enterprise, 
 Smith now, from time to time, as provisions were 
 needed, continued his excursions — sometimes on 
 foot, sometimes in the boat. He discovered most 
 of the branches of the James river, and explored 
 the country extensively. In one of his excur- 
 sions, he was particularly struck with the fertile 
 banks of the Chickahomony river, and marked 
 it as a region where, in time of want, he might 
 probably obtain plentiful supplies from the In- 
 dians. But his efforts at aiding the colony were 
 continually thwarted by bad management during 
 his absence. Ratcliff and Martin were weak 
 men, and allowed the stores to be wasted, which 
 he with so much labor procured. They suffered 
 
60 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 too, the natives to come into the settlement from 
 time to time, trading, and the whites in their bar 
 gains outbidding one another at times, soon 
 taught the savages to set a high value upon all 
 their articles, and to complain if they did not 
 always receive the highest prices. Thus, a dis- 
 contented spirit soon prevailed among them. 
 Troubles, too, were continually fostered by bad 
 men in the colony. Wingfield and Kendall, dis- 
 satisfied at their treatment, made loud complaints, 
 and at one time, during Smith's absence, plotted 
 to steal the shallop, (which had been made 
 ready for a trading voyage,) and make their 
 escape to England. Smith returned in time, how- 
 ever, to prevent this, though it was done with 
 difficulty. ■ It was necessary to do it forcibly, and 
 Kendall was killed. Soon after this, Ratcliff, 
 with a man named Archer, equally dissatisfied, 
 attempted the same thing, but these also were 
 prevented from carrying out their plans. Yo; 
 perceive, therefore, what struggles Captain Smith 
 had to encounter He had enemies around him 
 in the savages, and enemies at home in the colo- 
 ny, while almost from day to day he had to pro- 
 vide for the wants of his well nigh starving 
 countr}^men. Yet he was resolved to keep pos- 
 session of the country, and difficulties only roused 
 
JOHN SMITH. C^l 
 
 nim the more, to carry out this strong resolution 
 Fortunately, as winter approached, a plentiful 
 supply of wild fowl were taken, and making 
 friends of the Indians from time to time, they 
 brought him quantities of corn, beans, and pump- 
 kins. He was in fact now the father of the 
 colony : the people turned to him in all theii 
 troubles, and by looking closely to their wants, 
 he managed to secure most of them as warm 
 friends to himself. 
 
 It is well nigh impossible to please all men : 
 and Smith soon found that some few were com- 
 plaining of him, that he had not done all that he 
 could for their relief. He had, as I have told 
 you, discovered the Chickahomony river — and 
 the complaint now was, that w^anting resolution, 
 he had not explored it to its source, made friends 
 of the Indians there, and opened the way for a 
 continued supply from them. Resolved that such 
 a complaint, however groundless, should no lon- 
 ger exist, he now fitted up the boat, and taking 
 some of the men, started for that river. He went 
 so high up the stream this time, that he was forced 
 to cut the trees that had fallen into the river, that 
 the boat might pass through. At length, having 
 moved up as high as the boat would float, she 
 was dragged ashore to a safe place, and the men 
 6 
 
62 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 were ordered to remain there \vith her, until he 
 should come back. Taking now two of his 
 men, with two Indians as guides, he moved up in 
 an Indian canoe, to the meadows at the head of 
 the river. Here he left his two men with the 
 canoe, and with the guides passed on for many 
 miles over the meadows.^ Smith's men disobey- 
 ed his orders, and consequently brought trouble 
 upon the whole party. Instead of remaining 
 with the boat, they went straggling into the 
 "woods, and ere long were discovered by a party 
 of three hundred Indians. These Indians were 
 commanded by Opechancanough, the brother of 
 Powhatan. The crew all escaped with great 
 difficulty, except one man, who w^as made pris- 
 oner. The Indians now forced him to tell all 
 that he knew, and particularly where Captain 
 Smith was, and then put him to death. Follow- 
 ing the stream in search of him, they came, be- 
 fore a great while, to the two men left with the 
 canoe. These poor fellows were sleeping by a 
 fire which they had kindled, and were instantly 
 murdered. Ere long they discovered Smith in 
 the meadows, and immediately let fly their ar- 
 rows at him. One of these struck him in the 
 leg, and wounded him badly. His situation was 
 perilous enough, but he did not for a moment 
 
JOHN SMITH. 63 
 
 lose his presence of mind. He instantly seized 
 one of his Indian guides, and tied him with his 
 garter to his left arm. This man h^ used as his 
 shield ; and having his gun wi^h him, he kept up 
 a fire upon them as fast as he could. Three of 
 them fell dead, and several were wounded. For- 
 tunately, his gun carried farther than their bows, 
 and they kept at some distance. During all this 
 time, he was retreating as rapidly as he could to- 
 ward the canoe ; but watching his enemies, and 
 not marking his footsteps, he w^ith his guide sunk 
 to the middle in a hole in the meadow, and 
 stuck fast in the mud. His courage had so 
 amazed the Indians, that they dared not approach 
 him, helpless as he was, and incapable now of 
 doing them any injury. At last, almost dead 
 with cold, he threw away his arms, and begged 
 that he might be taken. They now came up, 
 dragged him out, and led him to the fire. Here 
 he saw the dead bodies of his two countrymen, 
 and knew at once what would probably be his 
 fate. Still he was calm. The Indians chafed 
 his cold limbs, and he now called for their chief 
 Opechancanough. Knowing that to beg for his 
 life was only to lose it, when the chief came be- 
 fore him he drew from his pocket his ivory 
 compass and dial, which he carried to guide him 
 
64 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 in his wanderings, and presented it to him. The 
 chief and his people were greatly pleased. The 
 motions of the needle, which they could see but 
 not touch, delighted and astonished them. Smith 
 had been in the country long enough to know 
 something of then- language, and marking their 
 feelings, he now began to explain to them the 
 use of the compass — the discoveries that had been 
 made by means of it — to talk " of the earth, the 
 skies, sun, moon, and stars, and how the sun did 
 chase the night round about the world continually, 
 the greatness of the land and sea, the diversity of 
 nations, variety of complexions,"* &c., while the 
 savages stood amazed with admiration. 
 
 In a little time, however, their astonishment 
 was over, and they were ready to execute him. 
 They now tied him to a tree, and prepared with 
 their bows and arrows to despatch him. Just at 
 this time, the chief held up the ivory compass, 
 the savages threw down their arms, and forming 
 themselves into a military procession, led the 
 poor captive in triumph toward their village 
 Orapaxe. They were very particular in arrang- 
 ing the order of this triumphal march. They 
 ranged themselves in single file, their chief or 
 king being in the midst, and before hun were 
 
 * Smith's Virginia— Vol. I., page 158. 
 
JOHN SMITH. 65 
 
 borne the swords and muskets taken from Smith 
 and his companions. Next to the chief came 
 Smith, hekl by three of the stoutest of their 
 number, aad on each side a file of six archers. 
 When they arrived at the village, the old men, 
 women, and children came out to meet them, 
 and were greatly amazed and delighted when 
 they saw the prisoner. Some strange manoeu- 
 vres were now performed by the warriors, and 
 at length they formed themselves into a circle 
 around Smith and their chief, and commenced 
 dancinsf and singino;. Their looks and sounds 
 were strange enough to Smith. They were all 
 painted, dressed up in furs and feathers, and be- 
 sides yelling, made a great noise by brandishing 
 their rattles, which were made of the tails of rat- 
 tlesnakes. This circular dance was performed 
 three times, and Smith was then conducted to a 
 long hut, and forty men placed there to guard 
 him. Here he was feasted so bountifully with 
 Indian bread and venison, that he began to think 
 they were fattening him only to kill and devour him. 
 Kindness will win the heart of almost any 
 man, and Smith now perceived the effect of it 
 upon the heart of a savage. One of the Indians, 
 to whom it seems he had formerly given some 
 green beads, and other trifling trinkets, now came, 
 6* 
 
66 JOHN sanTH. 
 
 presenting to him a garment of furs, to protect 
 him from the cold. The name of this man was 
 Maocassater, and it deserves to be remembered. 
 Very different from this was the conduct of 
 another Indian, an old man, who tried to kill 
 him, because his son was dying. Whether it was 
 that he supposed that Smith, by some enchant- 
 ment, had made his boy sick, or whether the son 
 had been wounded in battle, we are not told. 
 At all events, the old man's revenge was curbed, 
 and the prisoner was conducted by his guard to 
 the dying youth. He now told them that he had 
 a medicine, at Jamestown, that would cure him, 
 if they would allow him to go and bring it, but 
 this they refused to do. They were unwilling 
 to part with him, for they were all making 
 ready for an attack upon Jamestown, and cal- 
 culated upon great assistance from him. They 
 needed him as a guide, and now they made 
 large offers to secure his services. They promised 
 him his life, liberty, and as much land as he 
 should wish for, if he would only aid them. Smith 
 told them of the great difficulty of the under- 
 taking, talked to them of the guns, mines, and 
 other defences of the place. All this terrified 
 them, but did not dissuade them from their in- 
 tention. He was now permitted to write a note 
 
JOHN SMITH. 
 
 67 
 
 to Jamestown, asking for the medicine, and 
 some other things that he desired, and some of 
 the Indians were to deliver it. Taking advantage 
 of this, he tore a leaf from his pocket-book, and 
 wrote the note, asking for what he needed, 
 telling his countrymen of his situation, of the 
 designs of the savages, and the best way of 
 frightening the messengers, when they should 
 arrive there. Through frost and snow the mes- 
 sengers made their way, and ere long came near 
 Jamestow^n. The whites, seeing them, sallied 
 out to meet them, and the frightened Indians, 
 dropping their note, ran away. At night, tak- 
 ing courage, they returned, and discovered all 
 the articles which Smith had sent for, on the 
 very spot w^here he told them they would find 
 them. Gathering them up, they now returned 
 homeward, telling their countrymen of the mar- 
 vellous sights that they had seen ; and wonder- 
 ing, most of all, at the power of the speaking 
 leaf, which had secured for Smith the articles 
 sent for. 
 
 What they had seen, induced the savages to 
 give up the thought of an attack upon James- 
 town, and looking upon Smith as a wonderful 
 man, they now led him about the country, mak- 
 ing a show of hhn. They passed with him 
 
68 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 through seTeral tribes of Indians, on the Rap- 
 pahannoc and Potowmac rivers, and at length 
 brought him to Pamunkee, the home of Ope- 
 chancanough. Haltiiig here, they performed a 
 strange ceremony, the design of which (as they 
 said) was to find out whether Smith's feehngs 
 toward them were those of a friend or enemy. 
 The ceremony was as follows : 
 
 " Early in the morning a great fire was made 
 in a long house, and a mat spread, on the one 
 side as on the other; on the one they caused 
 him to sit, and all the guard went out of the 
 house, and presently came skipping in a great 
 grim fellow, all painted over with coal, mingled 
 with oil ; and many snakes, and weasels' skins, 
 stuffed with moss, and all their tails tied together, 
 so as they met on the crown of his head in a 
 tassel ; and round about the tassel was a coronet 
 of feathers, the skins hanging round about his 
 head, back, and shoulders, and in a manner 
 covered his face; with a hellish voice, and a 
 rattle in his hand. With most strange gestures 
 and passions, he began his invocation, and en- 
 vironed the fire with a circle of meal : which 
 done, three men, like devils, came lushing in, 
 with the like antic tricks, painted half black, 
 half red; but all their eyes were painted white 
 
JOHN SMITH. 69 
 
 and some red strokes, like mustachios, along 
 their cheeks : round about him, these fiends 
 danced a pretty while, and then came in three 
 more as ugly as the rest, with red eyes and white 
 strokes over their black faces ; at last they all 
 sat down right against him ; three of them on 
 the one hand of the chief priest, and three on 
 the other. Then all, with their rattles, began 
 a song ; w^hich ended, the chief priest laid down 
 five wheat corns : then straining his arms and 
 hands with such violence that he sweat, and his 
 veins swelled, he began a short oration : at the 
 conclusion, they all gave a short groan, and 
 then laid down three grains more. After that 
 began their song again, and then another ora- 
 tion, ever laying down so many corns as before, 
 till they had twice encircled the fire ; that done, 
 they took a bunch of little sticks, prepared for 
 that purpose, continuing still their devotion, and 
 at the end of every song and oration, they laid 
 down a stick between the divisions of corn. Till 
 night, neither he nor they did eat or drink, and 
 then they feasted merrily, with the best pro- 
 visions they could make. Three days they used 
 this ceremony : the meaning whereof, they told 
 him, was to know if he intended them well or 
 no. The circle of meal signified the country, 
 
70 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 the circle of com the bounds of the sea, and the 
 sticks his country. They imagined the world to 
 be flat and round, like a trencher, and they in 
 the midst."* Smith, of course, did not under- 
 stand the meaning of all this, nor did he know, 
 at the end of it, whether they discovered him to 
 be a friend or foe. 
 
 This ceremony being over, they brought him 
 a bag of gunpowder, telling him that they 
 should mingle it with their corn, and plant it the 
 next season. He was now invited by Opitcha- 
 pan (one of the brothers of Powhatan) to come 
 and visit him. He went to his home, and was 
 welcomed "with platters of bread, fowl, and 
 wild beasts 3" but, as usual, not one of the savages 
 would eat with him. After this they brought 
 him to Werowocomoco, the residence of their 
 great Emperor Powhatan 
 
 • Smith's Virginia, vol. i. page 161. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Smith is received by Powhatan in great state — 
 The savages propose to kill him — His life is 
 saved by the Princess Pocahontas — He is re- 
 leased and returns to Jamestown — Troubles at 
 Jamestown — He soon restores order — Kindness 
 of Pocahontas — Arrival of Captain Js'^ewport, 
 in 1607 — His visit to Powhatan — Strange 
 trajjicking — Fire at Jamestown — Sufferings 
 in the colony — J\''ewport sails homeward — 
 Smith rebuilds the town — Arrival of Captain 
 Jfelson — Disturbance between Smith and Pow- 
 hatan — Bold conduct of Smith — Peace is re- 
 stored — JSfelson sails for England. 
 
 Werowocomoco, the home of Powhatan, is 
 stated to have been " on the north side of York 
 River, in Gloucester county, about twenty-five 
 miles below the fork of the river." When 
 Smith arrived in this village, more than two 
 hundred savages came around him, gazing at 
 him as " though he had been a monster." He 
 was not yet brought into the presence of their 
 
72 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 chief, until due preparations had been made 
 for receiving him. All being ready, he at 
 length came before Powhatan. In a long hut, 
 m the midst of which there was a large fire, he 
 found him seated upon a sort of throne, while 
 his two young daughters sat on either side of 
 him. He was dressed in a heavy robe of rac- 
 coon skins. On each side of the hut there were 
 two rows of men, and behind them as many 
 women, with their heads and shoulders painted 
 red. Some had their heads decked off with the 
 white down of birds, and some had strings of 
 white beads around their necks. When Smith 
 came in, .they all gave a great shout. The 
 queen of Apamatox brought him water to wash 
 his hands — while another damsel brought him a 
 bunch of feathers, to serve as a towel to dry 
 them. After this, they feasted him with their 
 best provisions, and then they consulted among 
 themselves, as to what should be done with him 
 Smith soon understood his fate, when, at the 
 end of this consultation, two large stones were 
 brought in, placed before Powhatan, and he 
 seized and dragged toward them. His head 
 was laid upon them, and now the savages raised 
 their clubs to beat out his brains. The king's 
 daughter, Pocahontas, (it seems,) had entreated 
 
JOHN SMITH. 73 
 
 that bis life might be spared, but all her en- 
 treaties had proved useless. Just at this mo- 
 ment, she rushed toward the captive, folded his 
 head in her arms, and laid her own upon it. In 
 an instant more, poor Smith Avould have been 
 despatched. The king's heart was now^ soften- 
 ed : he consented that the prisoner should hve, 
 to make hatchets for him, and bells and beads 
 for his daughter. 
 
 "Whether farther entreaties of Pocahontas pre- 
 vailed or not, we are not told ; but certain it is, 
 that in a little time the king w^as even more 
 generous to the prisoner. Two days after this, 
 he caused Smith to be carried to " a great house 
 in the woods," and there to be left, seated alone 
 apon a mat, before a large fire. " Not long 
 .ifte;, f:oro behind a mat that divided the house, 
 vzs ir.dde the most doleful noise he ever heard :" 
 .-ind in rushed Powhatan, painted black, and 
 disguised " in a fearful manner," followed by 
 two hundred other savages, as black as him- 
 self. The chief now told him that they were 
 friends, and that he might return to Jamestown. 
 He had but one favor to ask of him, which was, 
 that he would send him " two great guns, and 
 a grindstone," and he promised, in return, to 
 *^give him the country of Capahowosick, and 
 7 
 
74 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 to esteem him for ever as his son, JVantaqmud.'' 
 So, with twelve guides, Smith was started home- 
 ward. Night came on, and " they quartered in 
 the woods. Smith expecting (as he had done all 
 this long time of his imprisonment) every hour 
 to be put to one death or other ; but Almighty 
 God (by his divine providence) had mollified the 
 hearts of those stern Barbarians with compassion." 
 Early the next morning they reached James- 
 town, and Smith treated his guides with great 
 hospitality. He now shewed to Rawhunt, the 
 trusty servant of Powhatan, (who was one of 
 the guides,) the two large guns and the grind- 
 stone for his master. The Indians tried to lift 
 them, but found they were too hea\7. Smith 
 now had the guns loaded with stones, and dis- 
 charo-ed at a tree covered wdth icicles. The 
 loud report, and the rattling of the icicles, fright- 
 ened the savages, and they ran away. In a ht- 
 tle time, however, they came back, and after 
 being loaded with trinkets and other presents, 
 for Powhatan and his daughter, they left him. 
 
 It was well that Smith came home just at 
 this time. His presence, of course, had been 
 missed, and all was now confusion at James- 
 town. The men had got to quarieUing, and a 
 large party had seized the pinnace determined 
 
JOHN SMITH. 75 
 
 to leave the country. At the risk of his hfe once 
 more, he checked this plot. He brought his 
 guns to bear, and threatened to sink the pin- 
 nace, if they attempted to move off. Inflamed 
 with anger, these discontented men (the presi- 
 dent among the number) now conspired against 
 his life. They said he deserved to die, because 
 he had caused the death of the two poor fellows 
 who had been murdered at the canoe, in the 
 meadows. Their design proved idle, for they 
 knew in their hearts that he was an innocent 
 man, and they soon had the worst of this effort; 
 for we are told, " he quickly took such order 
 with such lawyers, that he laid them by the 
 heels, till he sent some of them prisoners for 
 England." 
 
 After this a better spirit soon prevailed. Smith 
 now cheered his countrymen, by telling them of 
 the rich domains of Powhatan, the plentiful 
 supplies that might be obtained there, and the 
 great kindness and liberality of the chief. He 
 spoke, too, of the generosity of Pocahontas, and 
 what aid they might expect from her. They 
 soon learned for themselves to understand her 
 fidelity. From time to time, she would come, 
 with her train of female attendants, to James- 
 town, bringing them stores of provisions to re- 
 
76 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 lieve their wants. Smith had made warm friends, 
 also, of other Indians. The savages would now 
 come in bringing presents to him, and trading 
 with him at such prices as he fixed. ]\Iany of 
 them had learned (it is said) to look upon him 
 as a supernatural being. 
 
 In the latter part of the year 1607, two ships 
 sailed from England to the colony — the one 
 commanded by their old friend Captain New- 
 port, the other by Captain Nelson. Nelson, (it 
 appears,) after coming as far as Cape Henry, 
 had his ship dismasted, and contrary winds now 
 drove him in distress to the West Indies. New- 
 port, more fortunate, arrived in safety. It hap- 
 pened, that Smith had predicted his arrival about 
 this time, and while the colonists of course were 
 happy upon his return, the Indians looked upon 
 Smith as a prophet. They knew that Smith 
 w^orshipped the God " who created all things," 
 and now they would talk of the " God of Captain 
 Smith." 
 
 Whether it was that some of the council were 
 foolishly jealous of Smith's influence over the 
 Indians, or whe^er it was only imprudence, 
 certain it is, that they were in the strange habit 
 of giving the Indians higher prices for their ar- 
 ticles than Smith had fixed ; and now, when the 
 
JOHN SMITH. 77 
 
 sailors arrived, they were allowed to trade with 
 the savages just as they pleased. The conse- 
 quence was, that it was soon found impossible to 
 obtain as much for a pound of copper, as had 
 been before procured for an ounce. Newport, 
 too, in sailor-like style, was very lavish in his 
 dealings with the natives, and especially in 
 making rich presents to Powhatan, w^hom he 
 desired to impress with an idea of his greatness 
 The arrival of the ship, therefore, made some 
 little trouble. 
 
 Smith had talked much of Newport, and his 
 conversations, together with the presents, had 
 made Powhatan very desirous of seeing him again. 
 The boat was therefore now made ready, and 
 Captain Smith, Captain Newport, and a Mr. 
 Scrivener, (a gentleman who had come out on 
 the last voyage of Newport, and was now a 
 member of the council,) together with a guard 
 of forty chosen men, started on a visit to the 
 chief. When they arrived at Werowocomoco, 
 Newport, w^ho was unacquainted with the coun- 
 try, began to suspect treachery on the part of the 
 savages. This place, you know, had been the 
 home of Powhatan, but thinking it too near to 
 the English, he had removed now to the village 
 Orapaxe. Smith tried to convince him that his 
 7^ 
 
78 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 fears were idle, but finding it impossible, under- 
 took with twenty men to go on alone. But he 
 began ere long to suspect mischief himself. He 
 had to pass many creeks and streams, and find- 
 ing the bridges over these to be made only of 
 poles, with bark thrown over them loosely, sup- 
 posed that they might be only traps or snares for 
 the white men. It seems, however, that he had 
 some Indian guides, and he made them pass over 
 first, to assure himself of safety. Thus he passed 
 on, until he was at length met by a party of 
 three hundred savages, who kindly conducted 
 him to the home of the chief Entering the 
 village, he was received with great shouts of joy, 
 and then a splendid feast was prepared for him. 
 Powhatan again received him in great state. 
 Smith found him clothed in a fine robe of skins, 
 seated " upon his bed of mats, his pillow of 
 leather embroidered after their rude manner, 
 with pearl and white beads," while " at his head 
 and feet sat a handsome young woman." Other 
 women stood around, having their heads and 
 shoulders painted red, and strings of white beads 
 hanging about their necks. Before these sat 
 " some of his chiefest men." He was welcomed 
 heartily by the chief, as an old friend. A guard 
 of five hundred men was appointed to attend 
 
JOHN SMITH. 79 
 
 upon him, and the king's proclamation was is- 
 sued, that no Indian should do harm to Smith or 
 any of his followers, under penalty of death. 
 Then the savages commenced anew their feast- 
 ing, with dancing and singing ; and when night 
 came, the party quartered with Powhatan. 
 
 The next day Captain Newport arrived, and 
 was also treated with great kindness. He had 
 with him an English boy, named Thomas Sal- 
 vage, whom he gave to Powhatan, calhng 
 him his son. In return, Powhatan gave 
 him JVamoiitack, one of his trusty servants. 
 Now they commenced again their dancing and 
 feasting. Three or four days were spent in this 
 way, together with trading, for Newport had 
 brought along with him many articles of traffic. 
 Powhatan bore himself like a chief, and the 
 whites admired him very much ; but before the 
 visit was over, he proved himself to be a cunning 
 old man, and would have outwitted them all, but 
 for the superior cunning of Captain Smith. I 
 will tell you of his stratagem. 
 
 While Newport was trading with him, the old 
 chief became greatly dissatisfied, at what he 
 thought bargaining and trafficking in a small 
 way. He said therefore to him, " Captain New- 
 port, it is not agreeable to my greatness, in this 
 
80 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 peddling manner to trade for trifles ; and 1 es- 
 teem you also a great Werowance. Therefore, 
 lay me down all your commodities together : 
 what I like I will take, and in recompense give 
 you what I think fitting their value." Captain 
 Smith was acting as interpreter between them, 
 and seeing at once the cunning of the chief, ad- 
 vised Newport not to agree to it. But Newport, 
 desirous of making a display, and thinking he 
 could manage the matter himself, immediately 
 consented, and spread out all his wares. Pow- 
 hatan instantly selected such articles as pleased 
 him, but when he came to making payment for 
 them, set such a high value upon his corn, that 
 Newport did not receive four bushels " where he 
 expected twenty hogsheads." Smith was natu- 
 rally enough provoked at Newport's folly, and 
 determined that, if possible, the savage should 
 be no gainer by it. He now took out some 
 wares of his own : among other things, some 
 blue glass beads, which, as if accidentally, he 
 placed where Powhatan might see them. The 
 king was at once struck with them, and greatly 
 desired to have them. But Smith could not con- 
 sent to part with them. They were made (he 
 said) '"' of a rare substance of the color of the 
 skies, and not to be worn but by the greatest 
 
JOHN SMITH. 81 
 
 kings in the world." This only increased the 
 desire of the chief: but the more he longed for 
 them, the more unwilling was Smith to let them 
 go. At last, as a favor, he allowed the king to 
 trade for some of them, and now, for his glass 
 beads, he received two or three hundred bushels 
 of corn. After this, they parted good friends, 
 and the party went off to see Opechancanough, 
 king of Pamunke. Here they made another 
 good bargain with their blue beads. Indeed, 
 blue beads became now of such high value, that 
 they were all bought up at almost any price, and 
 none but the kings, their wives, or their daugh- 
 ters allowed to wear them. 
 
 They now returned to Jamestown, well laden 
 with provisions. Scarcely, however, had they 
 stored them away, when unfortunately a fire 
 broke out in the town, and consumed well 
 nigh everything. Their houses, made of wood, 
 and thatched with reeds and straw, were like 
 tinder for the flames, and quantities of arms, 
 bedding, clothing, and provisions were alike de- 
 stroyed. In this fire, their clergyman, Mr. Hunt, 
 " lost all his library, and all he had but the 
 clothes on his back, yet none ever heard him 
 repine at his loss." Indeed, most of the colonists 
 appear to have borne the calamity as well as 
 
82 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 could have been expected. They saved "what 
 provisions they could from the flames, and by 
 prudent management, there might still have been 
 enough for present wants, but for the delay of the 
 ship. Instead of returning homeward promptly, 
 Newport and his crew were seized with a " gold 
 fever." They were busy every day in digging 
 the earth, and loading the ship Avith what they 
 thought so much treasure. Thus they delayed sail- 
 ino; for fourteen weeks, durino- all which time there 
 were of course so many more mouths to be filled 
 in the colony. Smith and Scrivener were both 
 sensible men, and looked upon all this search for 
 gold as idle; but still they could not induce 
 Newport to leave earlier. At length the ship 
 w^as ready to sail, and the poor half-starving set- 
 tlement had to furnish supplies ere she could 
 move off. They w^ere furnished cheerfully, for 
 her departure was regarded as a blessing. Wing- 
 field and Archer, too, to the great joy of the de- 
 cent part of the colony, were sent home in her. 
 Upon reduced allowances, their sufferings now 
 increased. The winter was a very severe one, 
 many of the men houseless, and though Smith 
 did all that he could for their relief, before the 
 cold season was ended, more than half of them 
 had died. 
 
JOHN SMITH. 83 
 
 As the spring approached, Smith and Scriv* 
 ener set resolutely to the work of rebuilding 
 Jamestown. A new church was erected, the 
 storehouse and pahsadoes were repaired, and 
 new dwelling-houses put up. The fields, too, 
 were prepared under their direction, and corn 
 was planted. While they were engaged in all 
 this, to their surprise. Captain Nelson arrived in 
 the Phoenix, from the West Indies. He had 
 spent his winter there, (after being driven, as 
 you will remember, from the coast of Virginia,) 
 and now, to their great joy, came laden with am- 
 ple provisions for the colony, for six months. 
 
 Nelson was a man of good spirit ; his heart 
 was touched with the sorrows of his country- 
 men, and he kindly served them in any way that 
 he could. He moved freely among them, en- 
 couraging them by his words and actions, and 
 rousing their drooping spirits. In this way he 
 succeeded in awakening a spirit of enterprise, 
 even in the inefficient president; for he now 
 urged Smith " to discover and search the com- 
 modities of the Monacan's country, beyond the 
 falls of James river," that he might profitably 
 relade the ship for a return homeward. Sixty 
 men were allotted to him for this adventure, 
 and in six days, Smith had so drilled them to 
 
84 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 their arms, that they were ready for the enter- 
 prise. He was for loading the vessel with cedar, 
 while Martin and some others, were foolishly in- 
 tent upon filling her also with " golden dirt." 
 Just as he was about starting, a difficulty oc- 
 curred, which kept him at home. The difficulty 
 was this. 
 
 When Newport was on the point of starting, 
 Powhatan had sent him as a present, twenty 
 turkeys, and in return, asked that he might re- 
 ceive twenty swords. Newport had imprudent- 
 ly given them to him ; and now the chief sent a 
 like present to Smith, making a similar demand. 
 Smith refused to meet it, and the chief set his 
 men at once upon various stratagems, to seize 
 the arms of the colonists. Sometimes they 
 would enter Jamestown, and take them by force, 
 or steal them — then they would surprise the 
 men at their work, and annoy them in every 
 possible way. Notwithstanding this insolence, 
 nothing was done in return, until they meddled 
 with- Smith. The colonists had orders from 
 home, to keep peace with Powhatan and his 
 people, and they were desirous of obeying. But 
 their insolence had now touched him, and Smith 
 at once " took the matter into his own hands." 
 He saUied out with a party, seized some of 
 
JOHN SMITH. 85 
 
 the Indians and whipped them, and then re^ 
 turned, bringing with him seven prisoners, as 
 hostages for their good behavior. But good 
 behavior was not in them. They, in return, 
 finding two straggling soldiers, seized them as 
 prisoners: and now" they advanced ahnost to 
 the fort, in strong numbers, demanding their 
 seven countrymen, and threatening immediate 
 death to the whites, if they were not dehvered up. 
 Smith instantly sallied out amongst them again, 
 and, in less than an hour, so completely cured 
 their insolence, that they surrendered the two 
 wtoe men, and were glad to sue for peace. In 
 making terms of peace, he forced them to 
 tell their intentions. They declared, that what 
 they had done was by order of Powhatan, and 
 that his design was to get possession of their 
 weapons, that he might destroy the whites. 
 Powhatan soon finding his plans discovered, sent 
 his favorite daughter, Pocahontas, with presents 
 to Smith, begging that he would excuse all in- 
 juries that might have been done by any of his 
 " untoward subjects," and assuring him of his 
 love for ever. But Smith was not to be deceived 
 in this w^ay. He punished the savages, there- 
 fore, as he thought they deserved; and then 
 delivered up the prisoners, declaring, that it 
 8 
 
86 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 was merely for the sake of the princess that he 
 spared their lives. 
 
 The Council, fearful that all this might make 
 an enemy of Powhatan, were dissatisfied with 
 Smith; but in a httle time. they perceived their 
 error. The truth was, it was the only w^ay of 
 teaching the savages not to molest the settle- 
 ment; and when they soon after discovered, 
 that instead of " having peace and war twice 
 in a day," (as had been the case for some time,) 
 they enjoyed uninterrupted quiet, they were per- 
 fectly contented. 
 
 The ship was soon sent home, laden with 
 cedar, as Smith advised ; and Martin, instead of 
 loading her with " golden dirt," as he desired, 
 was himself allowed to return home in her. He 
 had proved himself to be a weak and almost 
 useless man in the colony, and they were well 
 pleased at his departure. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 The adventures of Captain Smith during two 
 voyages made in an open boat ^ for the purpose 
 of exploring Chesapeake Bay, 
 
 Order being somewhat restored. Smith now 
 prepared for further adventures. His design 
 was to explore the lands on Chesapeake Bay, 
 and become acquainted with the inhabitants. 
 As the ship hoisted sail, therefore, on the second 
 day of June, with fourteen men he embarked in 
 an open barge, and moved down the river. 
 Parting with the ship at Cape Henry, they 
 passed directly across the mouth of the bay, 
 and discovered, to the east of Cape Charles, a 
 group of islands, to which they gave the name 
 of " Smith's Isles:' This name, I believe, they 
 still bear. Soon after, in turning the last men- 
 tioned cape, they saw two savages, who boldly 
 demanded who they were, and what they came 
 for. Presently they seemed more friendly, and 
 directed them to Accomack, the home of their 
 
88 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 chief. Upon reaching him, they were received 
 with great kindness. Leaving him, they coasted 
 along the eastern shore of the bay, " searching 
 every inlet fit for harbors and habitations." 
 Sometimes they landed upon the main land, and 
 then upon the low islands which skirted the 
 shores, to one group of which they gave the 
 name of " RussePs Isles/^ in honor of Doctor 
 Russel, their surgeon. This group is now known, 
 I think, by the name of the Tangier Islands. 
 Suffering now for a supply of fresh water, they 
 procured such as they could, and moving still 
 farther north, were ere long, as they came near 
 another group of islands, visited by a violent 
 tempest. Their mast and sail were blown over- 
 board, and with great labor they kept their 
 barge from sinking. These islands, now known 
 as Watt's Islands, received from them the strange 
 name of Limho, on account of their disaster 
 Here they were forced to remain two days. At 
 length, the storm abated, and having repair- 
 ed the sail with their shirts, they passed over 
 to the eastern shore, and entered the river 
 Wicomico. The natives, seeing them, " ran 
 amazed in troops from place to place, and 
 divers got into the tops of trees." Regarding 
 them as enemies, they discharged volleys of ar- 
 
JOHN SMITH. 89 
 
 rows at them, but the barge was anchored too 
 far from them, to suffer any injury. The next 
 day the party landed, and entering their deserted 
 huts, left copper trinkets, beads, and looking- 
 glasses. When the savages found these, they 
 were greatly pleased, and- soon became friendly. 
 Here, upon this river, we are told,* lived " the 
 people of Sarapinagh, Nause, Arseek, and Nan- 
 taquak, the best merchants of all other sav- 
 ages." 
 
 " Finding this eastern shore shallow broken 
 isles, and for most part without fresh water," 
 they determined to pass over to the western 
 shore of the bay. Proceeding some distance 
 further north without discovering any thing 
 remarkable, they crossed, and came coasting 
 down the western side, marking all the creeks 
 and rivers. To the first large river which they 
 entered on this side, they gave the name of 
 Bolus, because " the clay, in many places, did 
 grow up in red and white knots, as gum out of 
 trees," which made them "think it hole am- 
 moniac.^^ The river is now known by the Indian 
 name Patapsco. Here the crew commenced 
 murmuring. Their bread had been damaged by 
 the rain; in an open boat, exposed to all weather, 
 
 * Smith's Virginia, vol. i. page 175. 
 
 8* 
 
90 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 they had spent twelve or fourteen days toiling 
 at the oar, and they now urged Smith to return 
 homeward. But he was for making farther 
 discoveries, and answered them in the following 
 words, which at once shew his spirit and reso- 
 lution : — 
 
 " Gentlemen, if you would remember the 
 memorable history of Sir Ralph Lane, how his 
 company importuned him to proceed in the dis- 
 covery of ^loratico, alleging they had yet a 
 dog, that being boiled with sassafras leaves, 
 would richly feed them in their return : then 
 what a shame would it be for you, (that have 
 been so suspicious of my tenderness,) to force 
 me to return, with so much provision as we 
 have, and scarce able to say where we have 
 been, nor yet heard of that we were sent to 
 seek 1 You cannot say but I have shared with 
 you in the worst which is past; and for what 
 is to come of lodging, diet, or whatsoever, I am 
 contented you allot the worst part to myself. 
 And for your fears, that I will lose myself in 
 these unknown large waters, or be swallowed 
 up in some stormy gust : abandon these childish 
 fears, for worse than is past is not likely to happen, 
 and there is as much danger to return as to pro- 
 ceed. Regam, therefore, your old spirits, for re- 
 
JOHN SMITH. 91 
 
 turn I will not, (if God please,) tiP I have seen 
 the Massavv'omeks, found Patawomek, or the 
 head of this water you conceit to be endless."* 
 Some of the discontented were now ashamed, 
 Dut others who w^ere half sick, still complain- 
 ed, and to please them, Smith reluctantly 
 started homeward. Passing southwardly, ere 
 long they fell in with the mouth of the river 
 Potomac. As the stream came rolling broad 
 and beautiful into the bay, the spirits of the men 
 revived, and now they " were all content to 
 take some pains to know the name of that seven 
 mile broad stream." They sailed thirty miles 
 up the river, without finding any inhabitants. At 
 length, seeing two savages, they w^ere conducted 
 by them up a little creek, where they soon dis- 
 covered multitudes of the natives. The truth was, 
 it was an ambuscade. Three or four thousand 
 savages were lying in wait here, ready to in- 
 snare them ; and now they came forward with 
 hideous yells, making threatening gestures to- 
 ward them. Smith was not frightened, but pre- 
 pared very coolly for an encounter. As an an- 
 swer to their threats, he commanded his men to 
 discharge their muskets over the w^ater. This 
 was sufficient. The grazing of the balls upon 
 
 • Smith's Virginia, vol. i. pages 176, 177. 
 
92 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 the water, and the loud echo of the report 
 through the woods, terrified the natives. They 
 threw down theu* bows and arrows, sued for 
 peace, and at once exchanged hostages. James 
 Watkins (one of Smith's party) was now sent 
 six miles higher up, to the residence of their 
 king. In a little time these Indians became un- 
 usually friendly, and frankly told Smith thwr 
 whole plan. They had for some time been ^'- 
 ing in wait for the party, in the hope of cutting 
 them off. To this deed they had been excited 
 by Powhatan, who had heard of Smith's in- 
 tended expedition up the bay, through some of 
 the worthless and discontented men at James- 
 town. These miserable men, because Smith 
 had prevented them from deserting the colony, 
 had thus, in revenge, attempted a plot for his 
 destruction. 
 
 They now moved up the river as far as their 
 boat would float. In their progress they some- 
 times met Indian canoes, laden with bear's any 
 deer's flesh, and readily obtained supplies ; then 
 again they would fall in with hostile and threat- 
 ening savages, or others whose character then 
 doubted ; but Smith's prudence and courage were 
 ample always for this kmd of difliculty. He 
 had one regular mode of proceeding. \\'lien he 
 
JOHN SMITH. 93 
 
 met the savages, he always put on a bold face : 
 if they seemed to desire peace, he would at 
 once demand their bows and arrows, and one 
 or two of their children, as pledges for their sin- 
 cerity. If they complied with the demand, he 
 regarded them as friends ; if they refused, they 
 were looked upon as enemies, and treated ac- 
 cordingly. 
 
 Having frequently heard of a rich mine in 
 this neighborhood, Smith determined to visit 
 it. An Indian guide was procured, and in a 
 little time some of the party reached it. They 
 commenced digging the earth, and soon filled 
 several bags with just such stuff as Newport had 
 taken home for so much silver ore, but w^hich 
 proved utterly worthless. The Indians thought 
 much of this mine. It produced a substance 
 *' like antimony," which, after washing, they 
 used as paint, to beautify themselves and their 
 idols. This paint (w^e are told) only " made 
 them look like blackamoors, dusted over with 
 silver," but they thought it very beautiful. The 
 party, though they discovered no mineral trea- 
 sures, found some profit in this adventure, for 
 they returned to the barge w^ell laden with ot- 
 ter's, 1 ear'?, and martin's skins, which they ob- 
 tained from a straggling party of savages. 
 
94 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 They now came down the Potomac, seeing no- 
 thing farther, worthy of remark, except the great 
 quantities of fish in the water. 
 
 The men being now in better humor, Smith 
 was in no hurry to return homeward, and 
 therefore resolved to move up the Rappahan- 
 nock, and visit his old Indian acquaintances, 
 where he had once been in captivity. As the 
 barge came near the mouth of the stream, she 
 ran aground, and while they were waiting for 
 the flood tide to take her off*, the men amused 
 themselves by catching fish in a curious way. 
 Quantities of them had been left by the tide upon 
 the flats, and sticking them with the points of 
 their swords, they " took more in an hour than 
 they could eat in a day." Sporting in this way, 
 Smith met w^ith an accident, which alarmed him 
 and all his friends, and at once gave a name to 
 the place, w^hich it still bears. Having stuck 
 his sword into a stingray, (a curious fish, with 
 a long tail, having stings at the end of it,) the 
 fish raised his tail, and struck him on the wrist. 
 No blood followed the w^ound, but in a little 
 time he was seized with the most violent pain, 
 and in four hours, his hand, arm, and shoulder 
 were so much swollen, that Smith himself, as 
 well a^ his companions, supposed he was dying 
 
JOHN SMITH. 95 
 
 With great calmness, he directed where they 
 should bury his body, and with sorrowful hearts 
 they '^ prepared his grave in an island hard by." 
 Their sad labors, however, proveftl unnecessary. 
 The surgeon. Dr. Russel, having probed the 
 wound, by means of a certain oil so far relieved 
 the pain and swelling, that Smith, as night ap- 
 proached, was so much better that he was able 
 to eat a part of the fish for his supper. The 
 point of land where this occurred, took the name 
 of Stingray Point. 
 
 It was the twenty-first of July when they 
 reached Jamestown ; having been absent more 
 than six weeks. As they came near the town, 
 Smith determined to frighten old President Rat- 
 clifFe. The old man was known to be weak and 
 inefficient, and the crew were all ready to enjoy 
 the frolic. With the colored earth from their 
 bags, they painted the barge and decked her off 
 with strange streamers in such a way, that they 
 succeeded admirably. The terrified old man 
 roused the colonists, supposing that a party of 
 Spaniards were approaching to attack him. 
 When they landed and shewed themselves, they 
 all enjoyed a hearty laugh. 
 
 As usual, Smith found that his absence had 
 produced confusion in the colony. The presi- 
 
96 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 dent had been rioting upon the public stores, and 
 was now engaged in building for himself a house 
 in the woods, where, living alone, he might es- 
 cape the murmurs of the people. Even the poor 
 colonists who were sick had been neglected ; 
 this added to the discontent, and now the gener- 
 al cry was, that Ratcliffe w'as not fit for presi- 
 dent, and ought to be deposed. He was conse- 
 quently turned out of his office, and Smith chosen 
 to fill his place. The captain had not yet ex- 
 plored the bay as thoroughly as he desired, and 
 his design was to be off again as soon as possible. 
 He remained therefore but three days at James- 
 town, cheering the men by the story of his ad- 
 ventures, dividing provisions amongst them, and 
 making other arrangements for their comfort ; 
 and then appointing Mr. Scrivener to act as his 
 deputy during his absence, was ready for his 
 departure. 
 
 On the twenty-fourth of July, with twelve 
 men, he again started. Contrary winds detained 
 them for two or three days at Kecoughtan, where 
 the savages treated them with great hospitality. 
 To amuse them in return, they set off at night a 
 few rockets, which alarmed the natives, and gave 
 them a wonderful idea of their greatness. The 
 wind now changing, they proceeded on their 
 
JOHN SMITH. 97 
 
 voyage, and anchored at night off Stingray Point. 
 The next day they crossed the mouth of the Po- 
 tomac, and reached as far as the river Bolus, or 
 Patapsco. Hastening onward, they came ere 
 long to the head of the bay. Here they dis- 
 covered four streams, all of which they explored 
 as far as their boat could sail, and found inhabi- 
 tants on the banks of two of them only. As 
 they crossed the bay, they spied seven or eight 
 canoes filled with Indians, who proved to belong 
 to the tribe of the Massawomeks, a warlike 
 people of whom Smith had often heard. It 
 seems that only six men in the barge were now 
 able to stand ; (the rest being sick ;) yet as these 
 Indians shewed signs of hostility. Smith prepared 
 to meet them. The whites dropped their oars, 
 and under a press of sail soon came near them. 
 To give them the appearance of strength in the 
 eyes of the Indians, they now resorted to a strat- 
 agem. The hats of the sick men were hoisted 
 upon sticks, and between every two sticks, a 
 man was stationed with two muskets. The 
 savages, counting the hats, were readily deceived 
 as to the number of men, quickly paddle^ ^-^r 
 the shore, and there stood gazing at the barge. 
 It was a long time, before any of them could be 
 induced to come on board. At length they sent 
 9 
 
98 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 two of their number unarmed in a canoe, while 
 the rest all followed, to help them if it became 
 necessary. Their fears were soon over. When 
 the two reached the barge, upon bells and other 
 trinkets being presented to them, they persuaded 
 their companions to come on board. In a little 
 time they were trading freely, and by means 
 of signs talking freely with the whites. Veni- 
 son, bears' flesh, fish, bows, arrows, clubs, tar- 
 gets, and bear-skins, were readily exchanged for 
 such things as the whites could spare. They were 
 at war with the Tockwoghe Indians, (a people 
 living upon the Tockwoghe, or what is now 
 known as the Sassafras River,) and these Mas- 
 sawomeks were just returning from a battle, 
 with their wounds still bleeding. 
 
 Soon after, upon entering the Tockwoghe 
 River, they found the barge surrounded by fleets 
 of canoes " filled with fierce looking warriors." 
 These were Tockwoghes. Fortunately, one of 
 these Indians could speak the language of Powha- 
 tan, and he persuaded his companions " to hold a 
 friendly parley" with the whites. Upon coming 
 iiwc»., and seeing Smith's party in possession of 
 some of the weapons of the Massawomeks, they 
 at once concludea that they had been at war 
 with that nation ; and now they conducted them 
 
JOHN SMITH. 99 
 
 in triumph, to their strong pallisadoed town. 
 Here, mats were spread for them to sit upon, 
 and they were entertained with songs, dancing, 
 and feastinsf. These Indians had hatchets, knives, 
 and pieces of iron and brass, which they said they 
 received from the Susquehanocks, a tribe hving 
 on the Susquehanock River, " two days' journey 
 higher than the barge could pass." This tribe 
 they reported to be, hke themselves, " mortal 
 enemies to the Massawomeks." Smith was de- 
 sirous of seeing these people, and prevailed upon 
 the Tockwoghes to send an interpreter, to invite 
 them to come and visit him. In answer to this 
 invitation, in three or four days, sixty of them 
 came down, laden with presents of venison, bask- 
 ets, targets, bows and arrows. A curious scene 
 now occurred with these men, which will at once 
 show the proper habits of Smith, and the light 
 in which they regarded him. 
 
 It was his daily custom to have " prayers and 
 a psalm" with his men. The poor savages, 
 marking his devotions, were struck with wonder, 
 and soon commenced theirs. " They began in 
 a most passionate manner to hold up their hands 
 to the sun, with a most fearful song : then em- 
 bracing the captain, they began to adore him in 
 like manner : though he rebuked them, yet they 
 
100 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 proceeded till their song was finished : which 
 done, with a most strange furious action, and a 
 hellish voice, began an oration of their loves ; 
 that ended, with a great painted bear's skin they 
 covered him ; then one ready with a great chain 
 of white beads, weighing at least six or seven 
 pounds, hung it about his neck ; the others had 
 eighteen mantels, made of divers sorts of skins 
 sewed together ; all these with many other toys 
 they laid at his feet, stroking their ceremonious 
 hands about his neck, for his creation to be their 
 governor and protector, promising their aid, 
 victuals, or what they had, to be his, if he would 
 stay with them, to defend and revenge them of 
 the IMassawomeks." Their promises and en- 
 treaties did not prevail, and in a little time Smith 
 with his party moved off from the Tockwoghe 
 River, leaving them " very sorrowful for their 
 departure." 
 
 Coming down the bay, they continued ex- 
 ploring every inlet and headland, and giving 
 names to them in honor of some of their compa- 
 ny. To mark their right of possession as dis- 
 coverers, after moving up the streams as far as 
 their barge would float, they would erect crosses, 
 or boring holes in the trees, would deposite 
 in them notes or crosses of brass. The Patuxent 
 
JOHN SMITH. 101 
 
 River was particularly explored, and they again 
 visited the Potomac, on both of which streams 
 they were treated kindly by the inhabitants. 
 
 Ere long they entered the Rappahannock. 
 Here they met a friendly people known as the 
 Moraughtacunds, and among them an old Indian 
 acquaintance. This was a man by the name of 
 Mosco — a curious looking fellow who had served 
 as their guide to the mine on the Potomac, on 
 their former visit. Unlike most of his country- 
 men, this man had a black bushy beard, of which 
 he was very proud, and thinking he resembled 
 the whites, was very happy to call them " his 
 countrymen." His home (I believe) was on the 
 Potomac, but like most Indians, he was a wan- 
 derer. Mosco was very kind, and urged Smith 
 in no case to visit the Rappahannocks, stating 
 that they were a hostile people, and would pro- 
 bably kill them for being friends to the Moraugh- 
 tacunds. These Moraughtacunds, it appeared, 
 had lately stolen three women from the chief of 
 the Rappahannocks, and the tribes were on no 
 friendly terms. Mosco's words weighed little 
 with Smith. He supposed that his whole state- 
 ment, was only a cunning story invented to 
 keep his men trading where they were, and 
 therefore passed on up the river. Mosco, ac- 
 9* 
 
102 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 corapanied him, still repeating what he had said, 
 and this induced Smith to take one precaution. 
 The IVIassawomeks, you will remember, had given 
 them, among other things, some targets. These 
 were nothing more than shields " made of little 
 small sticks, woven betwixt strings of their 
 hemp and silk grass, as is our cloth, but so firm- 
 ly that no arrow can possibly pierce them." These 
 targets were now set up as a sort of breast- work 
 in the bow of the boat, in case of danger. Pre- 
 sently the danger was at hand. Upon coming 
 near a little creek, they discovered some canoes 
 at the shore, and upon seeing the savages, offer- 
 ed to exchange hostages. The Indians, after 
 consultation, readily consented. Five of them 
 now walked out in the stream to the barge, 
 bringing their man, and proposing to receive one 
 of the whites in return. They came without 
 clubs, bows, or arrows, and seemed in every way 
 friendly. The caution of Smith, however, in 
 duced him to send one of his men (Anas Tod 
 kill) ashore, to observe if there were any signs 
 of an ambuscade. The man performed his part 
 well, though he came near losing his life. Upon 
 landing, he said he wished to go over the land 
 to bring some wood. The Indians refused to 
 allow him to go, unless the barge would enter the 
 
JOHN SMITH. 103 
 
 creek, and come near the shore. This seemed 
 strange; but Todkill, being a resolute man, 
 started onward. Now he perceived their cun- 
 ning. He had not gone far, when he discovered 
 some two or three hundred Indians lurking 
 behind the trees. He turned back, calling to 
 his countrymen that they were betrayed. The 
 hostage in the barge instantly leaped into the 
 water, but was instantly killed. The savages 
 pursued Todkill with clouds of arrows ; the party 
 in the barge discharged their muskets, and pull- 
 ed for the shore. Todkill fell wounded, but his 
 countrymen were now on the land and rescued 
 him. Thus Mosco's words had proved true; 
 and to reward him for his fidelity, Smith, after 
 gathering and breaking all the arrows that could 
 be found, presented to him the canoes of the 
 Rappahannocks. 
 
 Notwithstanding this unkind reception. Smith 
 was resolved to proceed up the river. The rest 
 of the day, therefore, was spent in fixing the 
 barge in better condition for any farther attack. 
 Targets were now raised along the sides, making 
 a thorough breast- work all around the barge. 
 The next morning they started, and in a little 
 time felt the benefit of this prudence. As they 
 reached a narrow pass in the river, they heard 
 
104 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 the sudden twang of bowstrings, and arrows 
 fell fast around them. Mosco fell flat in the 
 boat, crying out "the Rappahannocks." Upon 
 looking out they saw no enemy. The banks of 
 the stream were lined with beautiful green 
 bushes : all was still, and they w^ere at a loss to 
 understand where an enemy could be. Ere long 
 they saw the branches moving, and discovered 
 the stratagem. It seems that thirty or forty 
 Rappahannocks had " so accommodated them- 
 selves w^ith branches as to look like little bushes 
 growling among the sedge." The whites in- 
 stantly discharged their muskets j the savages 
 fell down in the sedge, and the barge moved on. 
 After passing on about half a mile, upon looking 
 back they saw these enemies, w^ho now showed 
 themselves openly, " dancing and singing very 
 merrily." Thus Mosco's w^ords were verified a 
 second time. 
 
 In their farther ascent up this river, they 
 met nothing but kindness. Some of the men 
 (w^ho from exposure had been sick) now re- 
 covered, with the exception of one, a worthy 
 man, w'hose death w^as much lamented by his 
 comrades. This was Richard Fetherstone. On 
 the shore of a " little bay" his companions dug 
 his grave, and in honor of his good character 
 
JOHN SMITH. 105 
 
 and services, as his body was laid in the ground, 
 the gims were fired over him, and the place 
 marked as " Fetherstone's Bay." 
 
 Being now at the falls of the river, they went 
 ashore, and some commenced setting up crosses 
 and marking their names upon trees, while others 
 wandered about in search of " stones, herbs, and 
 springs of water." They had taken the precau- 
 tion to post a sentinel on duty, and as an arrow 
 fell by him, he gave the alarm. Scarcely had 
 they rallied and seized their arms, when they 
 were attacked by a hundred savages. Sheltered 
 behind the trees, the Indians kept up the fight 
 for a half hour and then retreated. JMosco's 
 services here, proved very valuable in bringing 
 about this retreat. He discharged his arrows 
 among them so rapidly, that the retreating men 
 imagined that a body of Indians was in league 
 with the whites, and that their position was des- 
 perate. After the skirmish was over, upon look- 
 ing around, they discovered one of the enemy 
 lying upon the ground, bleeding freely. He 
 had been badly wounded by a ball, and Mosco, 
 savage like, would soon have despatched him 
 by beating out his brains. From this cruelty, 
 however, he was restrained. The poor fellow's 
 wounds were dressed by Dr. Russel the surgeon, 
 
106 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 and in an hour or two, he was able to eat and 
 speak. Mosco now questioned him, to know 
 who he was. He said he belonged to the tribe 
 of Hassininga, one of the four composing the 
 nation of the Mannahocks. When asked w^hy 
 his people had in this manner attacked the whites 
 who came among them in peace and kindness, 
 he answered that they had heard the whites 
 " were a people come from under the world to 
 take their world from them." Mosco asked him 
 how many worlds there were. He replied that 
 " he knew no more but that which was under 
 the sky that covered him, which belonged to the 
 Powhatans, the Monacans, and the Massawo- 
 meks that were higher up in the mountains." 
 When asked what there w^as beyond the moun- 
 tains, his answer was, " the sun." " The Mona- 
 cans," he said, " w^ere their neighbors and friends, 
 and did dwell as they, in the hilly countries by 
 small rivers, living upon roots and fruits, but 
 chiefly by hunting. The Massawomeks did dwell 
 upon a great w^ater, and had many boats, and so 
 many men that they made war w^ith all the 
 world.* For their kings, they were gone every 
 one a several Avay w^ith their men on hunting • 
 
 • Stithj in liis history of Virginia, supposes these Massawo« 
 meks may have been the same as the '• Six Nations." 
 
JOHN SMITH. 107 
 
 but those with him came thither a fishing till 
 they saw us, notwithstanding they would be all 
 together at night at Mahaskahod.^'* After this, 
 the whites presented him with many toys, and 
 persuaded him to go along with them. JNlosco 
 now urged that they should immediately leave 
 this region, for he suspected treachery. But 
 the captive begged that they would stay till night, 
 and see the kings of the Mannahocks. who would 
 befriend them for their kind usage of him. la 
 spite of the remonstrances of Mosco, they de- 
 termined to remain, and he, shewing that he still 
 had his own thoughts, busied himself all day in 
 preparing his arrows. 
 
 All this time the chief of Hassininga was mov- 
 ing among his countrymen, and consulting as to 
 what should be done. At night the English de- 
 parted, and ere long they were attacked from the 
 banks by the Mannahocks. They followed them 
 all night, yelling, and hallooing, and shooting their 
 arrows. They could be brought to no terms of 
 peace, for their noise was so loud that the voice 
 of their countryman in the barge could not be 
 heard. When morning dawned, the barge an- 
 chored, and Amoroleck, (this was the name of 
 their captive countryman,) shewing himself,, was 
 
 * Smith's Virginia— Vol. I., page 187 
 
108 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 able to speak to them. He told them that he 
 had been used very kindly ; that there was one 
 of the Potomacs along who would have killed 
 him, but the whites had saved him; that he 
 could have his liberty if they would be friends 
 lo the whites, and even if they chose rather to 
 be enemies, they could do them no possible harm. 
 Upon this, they all hung their bows and quivers 
 upon the trees, and two now came swimming to 
 :he barge, the one bringing upon his head a bow, 
 the other a quiver of arrows. These were pre- 
 sented to Captain Smith in token of submission. 
 He treated them very kindly, and told them that 
 if the other three kings w^ould do the same thing, 
 he would be a friend to their nation. This was 
 hardly demanded, before it was assented to. The 
 parties now went ashore upon a low point of 
 land near by, the acts of submission were per- 
 formed, and Amoroleck was delivered up to his 
 countrymen. The whites Avere soon again on 
 their way, leaving upon the shore four or five 
 hundred Indians, singing, dancing, and making 
 loud rejoicings. 
 
 As they came down the river, they found 
 all the friendly Indians greatly rejoiced to hear 
 of their success over the Mannahocks, for these 
 people were not looked upon as friends by 
 
JOHN SMITH. 109 
 
 any of the tribes on the river. WTien the^ 
 reached the Moraughtacunds, they began strange- 
 ly to urge Captain Smith to make peace with 
 the Rappahannocks. This was probably^flone 
 in the hope, that they (who, you will remem- 
 ber, were not on good terms with the Rap- 
 pahannocks) might profit by whatever Smith 
 should do. After much entreaty. Smith agreed 
 to make peace with them upon certain condi- 
 tions. They had twice attacked him without 
 any cause, (he said,) yet he would forgive these 
 injuries, and be to them a friend, if the chief of 
 the Rappahannocks would deliver to him his bow 
 and quiver in token of submission ; agree never 
 to come armed into his presence, to live in friend- 
 ship with the Moraughtacunds, and, last of all. 
 to give up his son as a pledge for the faithful 
 performance of these terms. A message was 
 immediately sent to the chief, and he came, readi- 
 ly assenting to all the terms but the last. He 
 had but one son, and his heart (he said) would 
 break at parting with him. Instead of the boy^ 
 he was willing to deliver up the three women 
 whom the Moraughtacunds had stolen. Smith 
 assented to this, and now the chief, in the pre- 
 sence of many, laid down his bow and arrows, 
 and then the three women were brought forward. 
 10 
 
110 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 To the chief of the Rappahannocks Smith gave 
 the first choice, that he might select her he loved 
 best ; to the chief of the Moraughtacunds the se- 
 cond, and the faithful Mosco took the remainino- 
 one. Thus the treaty was ended, and all parties 
 were pleased. The men, women, and children 
 all joined in feasting, dancing, and singing. 
 Mosco was so much pleased with this new ar- 
 rangement made by the captain, that, to shew 
 his love for the whites, he changed his name. 
 They were usually known as " the strangers,^^ 
 and he took, therefore, the name UttasantasoKgh, 
 meaning the stranger. The savages, in their joy, 
 promised also to plant corn purposely for their 
 benefit, and the English, in return, agreed to pro- 
 vide hatchets, beads, and copper for them. Then 
 discharging their fire-arms, the barge pushed ofif 
 amid the loud shouts and cries of the Indians. 
 
 Next, they entered the Piankatank River, and 
 explored that as far as the barge would float. 
 They found on the banks of this stream only 
 some old men, women, and children, the younger 
 men being all out upon hunting excursions. 
 They were treated with kindness, and soon left 
 them. 
 
 In passing down the bay, a little to the south 
 of York River, they were struck by a squall in 
 
JOHN SMITH. Ill 
 
 the night, and with great difficulty escaped ship- 
 wreck. The wind blew violently toward the 
 shore, and, in the darkness, their little barge 
 more than once nearly stranded, but a flash of 
 lightning would from time to time disclose their 
 perilous position, and keeping clear of the land 
 as well as they could, they were at length ena- 
 bled, by God's mercy, to reach Point Comfort, 
 where they anchored. 
 
 The next morning Smith determined, before 
 he returned home, to visit certain neighbors of 
 whom he had often heard. These were the 
 Chesapeakes and Nandsamonds. Setting sail 
 therefore for the southern shore, he soon entered 
 the narrow river, known then as the Chesapeake. 
 This is now the Elizabeth River, upon which 
 Norfolk is situated. The river " had a good 
 channel, but some shoals about the entrance." 
 They sailed up six or seven miles, and saw 
 two or three httle garden plots, with houses, and 
 the shores overgrown with the largest pines 
 they had ever seen in the country ; but neither 
 seeing or hearing any people, and the river be- 
 ing very narrow, they returned back, and coast- 
 ed the shore towards Nandsamond. "At the 
 mouth of the Nandsamond," they spied some six or 
 seven Indians making weirs for fishing, who fled 
 
112 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 as soon as they were discovered. The party went 
 ashore, and leaving many toys and trinkets 
 where the Indians had been working, returned 
 to the barge. In a Httle time the Indians re- 
 turned, and began to dance and sing, and call 
 them back. One of them, without fear, came 
 out to the barge, and invited them to come up 
 the river, and visit him at his house. The in- 
 vitation was accepted, and they moved onward. 
 They observed the banks of the stream lined with 
 fine fields of corn, and ere long approached an 
 island, which seemed to be richly cultivated. 
 This island was the home of their host. Here 
 they went ashore, and were treated by him with 
 great kindness, and in return gave many toys to 
 his wife and children. Other Indians now came, 
 inviting them higher up the river to their houses. 
 The party, accepting their invitation also, were 
 moving on in good faith, when suddenly their 
 suspicions were aroused. Some six or eight 
 canoes were seen behind them, filled with armed 
 men. The stratagem was soon at work. They 
 had reached a narrow pass in the river, and now 
 the attack commenced. An ambuscade of three 
 or four hundred Chesapeakes and Nandsamonds 
 poured their arrows from the land, while clouds 
 of arrows came from the canoes in the rear 
 
JOHN SMITH, 113 
 
 The Massawomek targets covered the men in the 
 barge, while with their muskets they answered 
 this assault. The savages leaped from the ca- 
 noes and swam for the shore, while the barge 
 dropped down into a broader part of the stream, 
 the men on board keeping up a perpetual fire. 
 Now beyond the reach of their arrows, they con- 
 tinued the war upon their enemies on the land, 
 until they were all glad to disperse. Fortu- 
 nately, not one of the party in the barge was 
 hurt. 
 
 Smith resolved upon vengeance. He seized 
 all their deserted boats, and determined at 
 night to burn every thing upon the island. In 
 the mean time, his men commenced breaking the 
 canoes. The poor Indians, seeing this, threw 
 down their arms, and sued for peace. Smith 
 made his own terms. He commanded them 
 to bring the chief's bow and arrows, a chain of 
 pearl, and four hundred baskets of corn, other- 
 wise he would destroy all that they had. The 
 Indians "most joyfully" agreed to the con- 
 ditions, and " flocking down in great numbers, 
 with their baskets, soon loaded the boat with 
 corn." 
 
 The party now started homew^ard. They 
 met with no farther adventures by the w^ay, 
 10* 
 
114 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 and at length, on the seventh of September, ar- 
 rived at Jamestown in great " joy and trimnph." 
 In the two voyages together. Smith had been ab- 
 sent from the colony a little more than three 
 months, with the exception of the three days 
 which you will recollect he spent at James- 
 town.* 
 
 * Captain Smith made a map of Chesapeake Bay and the 
 countries which he explored upon its banks or tributary 
 streams. This map will be found published m his History ol 
 Virginia. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ^mith enters upon his new duties as President 
 — Arrival of Captain Kewport — His plan for 
 finding the South Sea — Brings presents to 
 Powhatan — Smith opposes the project — The 
 project goes on — Smith'' s visit to Powhatan — 
 Tells him of the presents — His haughty reply — 
 The presents are brought to the chief — He is 
 crowned — Jfewport attempts to find the South 
 Sea and fails — Employment of the men — ■ 
 Smith's mode of breaking up the bad habit of 
 swearing among his men — Bad conduct of the 
 sailors — Departure of the ship — Letter of the 
 Council in England to Smith — His reply — 
 Smith goes to J^andsamond and obtains supplies 
 — He afterwards attempts to seize Powhatan 
 and his stores — Is betrayed — The friendship 
 of Pocahontas prevents his being captured. 
 
 Smith was grieved to find, upon his return, 
 that many of the poor colonists had died, but 
 dehghted to discover that Mr. Scrivener had 
 proved faithful, and administered all affairs well. 
 
116 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 Ratcliff, the old president, had again made trou- 
 ble, and was now a prisoner, under the charge 
 of mutiny. In three days Smith was regularly 
 invested with the office of president, and set to 
 work with his usual energy. " The church was 
 repaired, the store-house new covered, and a 
 place made ready for the reception of the sup- 
 plies they daily expected from England. The 
 fort was reduced into form, the order of the 
 w^atch was renewed, the troops trained at each 
 setting of the watch, and the whole company 
 every Saturday exercised in the plain toward 
 the w^est, which was prepared for that purpose, 
 and called Smithfield ; where sometimes above 
 an hundred Indians would stand in amazement, 
 to behold how a file would batter a tree, when 
 the president had made them a mark to shoot 
 at."* As it was the time of gathering corn 
 wath the Indians, the boats also were made 
 ready for a trading voyage, and sent off under 
 the command of Lieutenant Percy. On their 
 way, to their great joy, they met Captain Newport 
 returning with the second supply, and they all 
 came back with him to Jamestown. 
 
 Newport had brought out with him this time 
 many people of consequence, among whom were 
 
 • Stith's Virginia, page 76. 
 
JOHN SMITH. l-* ' 
 
 Captams Peter Wynne and Richard Waldo, (two 
 old soldiers,) as new members of the council. 
 Aboard the ship also were Mrs. Forest and her 
 maid Ann Burras, the first English women ever 
 seen in Virginia. Some Poles and Germans had 
 likewise been sent along, « to make pitch, tar 
 Mass, mills, and soap ashes." He had received 
 from the company at home the strange and 
 foolish instruction, "not to return without a 
 lump of gold, or finding the South Sea, or dis- 
 covering one of the lost company sent out m 
 former years by Sir Walter Raleigh." For the 
 purpose of aiding him in this South Sea scheme, 
 he had with him a barge, made to be taken m 
 pieces, carried beyond the falls of the river, re- 
 constructed, and there launched for the adven- 
 ture To secure the friendship of Powhatan m 
 his great enterprise, he had brought rich pre- 
 sents for him. These consisted of a basin and 
 ewer, bed and bedstead, a chair of state, a suit 
 of rich clothing, and a crown. 
 
 When Newport talked of his plans. Smith op- 
 posed him strongly. He was a man of too much 
 good sense to give in to any such scheme of folly. 
 He said plainly, that instead of sending the men 
 off upon any such expedition, they should be em- 
 ployed in procuring provisions for the commg 
 
118 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 winter. But Newport at once promised to make 
 this a part of the enterprise, stating that he 
 would bring supplies of corn back with him. 
 In addition, too, he promised large supplies from 
 the ship — a promise which was so little veri- 
 fied, that before the ship sailed, the poor colo- 
 nists had to spare three hogsheads of corn to 
 victual her homeward. Smith objected, too, to 
 making such rich presents to Powhatan. It 
 was now easy (he said) to satisfy him at any 
 time with a present of beads and other trinkets ; 
 but after receiving such gifts as these, Powhatan 
 would ever be proud and insolent. Newport 
 was before this jealous of Smith, and this oppo- 
 sition made him the more so. He declared that 
 the council were all ready for the enterprise, 
 and that Smith alone prevented it ; that the 
 cause of this opposition arose from two cir- 
 cumstances: first, that he was desirous of 
 making the discovery himself for his own glory ; 
 and next, that he knew his former cruelty to the 
 Indians, by provoking their hostility to the ex- 
 ploring party, would be the only cause pre- 
 venting success. Far from being angry. Smith 
 determined at once to prove the utter falsehood 
 of such statements, by aiding the mad scheme, 
 as far as he could. Accordingly, he resolved 
 
JOHN SMITH. 119 
 
 to visit Powhatan, and invite him to com.e to 
 Jamestown and receive the presents. 
 
 With Captain Waldo, and three more as his 
 companions, he walked twelve miles, and then 
 passed over the river in an Indian canoe to 
 Werowocomoco, where he hoped to find the 
 chief. Powhatan, however, was thirty miles 
 farther in the country, and messengers were im- 
 mediately sent for him. The princess Pocahon- 
 tas was here, and while they waited for her father, 
 she, with her women, entertained them wuth 
 dancing and feasting, " after a curious manner." 
 
 A large fire was made in the open plain, and 
 the party seated before it. Suddenly, such a 
 noise was heard in the woods, that they supposed 
 they were betrayed. Instantly they sprang to 
 their arms, and seized three old men as hostages 
 for their security. Upon this, Pocahontas came 
 running to Smith, and offered to be killed her- 
 self, if any harm should happen to him or his 
 companions. Pacified by this, they seated them- 
 selves quietly again In a little time thirty girls 
 came forward, richly painted of different colors, 
 and each one wearing a girdle of green leaves. 
 " Their leader had a pair of buck's horns on her 
 head, an otter's skin as her girdle, and another 
 on one arm : a bow and arrow in the other hand. 
 
120 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 and a quiver at her back." Some carried wood 
 en staffs in their hands. Forming themselves in 
 a ring, for an hour they kept up their dancing, 
 singing, and shouting. After this the feast com- 
 menced, and the Indian girls waited upon them 
 as they ate. At night, they were conducted to 
 their lodgings by the hght of fire-brands. 
 
 The next morning Powhatan arrived, and 
 Smith came before him with his message. After 
 telling him of Newport's arrival and plans, and 
 that he had brought for him rich presents from the 
 king of the English, who was ready to assist him 
 in his war against the jMonacans, he invited him 
 to come at once to Jamestown and receive the 
 gifts. To this invitation, the chief gave him this 
 proud answer : " If your king has sent me a 
 present, I also am a king, and am on my own 
 land. I will stay here eight days. Your father 
 must come to me ; I will not go to him, nor to 
 your fort. As for the Monacans, I am able to 
 revenge myself If you have heard of salt water 
 beyond the mountains from any of my people, 
 they have deceived you." Then with a stick, 
 he drew upon the ground plots of that region of 
 country, and Smith started homeward with his 
 answer. 
 
 The aoswer being delivered, the presents were 
 
JOHN SMITH. 121 
 
 now sent around by water, while Smith and 
 Newport went across by land with a guard of 
 fifty men. All having met at Werowocomoco, 
 the next day wa appointed for crowning the 
 chief. In the morning the presents were brought 
 forward — the basin and ewer were placed before 
 him, and the bed and furniture set up. His 
 scarlet clothes were brought in, but there was 
 some difficulty in inducing the old man to put 
 them on, nor would he do it until the Indian boy 
 Namontack (who, you will remember, had been 
 given to Newport, and had been in England 
 with him) assured him that they could not hurt 
 him. The hardest part was yet to come, for it 
 was impossible to make him kneel, that the crown 
 might be placed upon his head. " He neither 
 knew the majesty of a crown, nor the meaning 
 of bending the knee, which obliged them to use 
 so many persuasions, examples, and instructions, 
 as tired them all." At last, by leaning hard on 
 his shoulders, he stooped a little, and then being 
 ready with the crown, they put it on his head. A 
 pistol was now fired as a signal to the boats, and 
 instantly a volley of musketry was heard, in 
 honor of the crowned chief. The man most 
 honored, least understood it He started alarmed, 
 supposing that there was a plot to destroy him, 
 11 
 
122 JOHN S:\IITH. 
 
 in " the midst of his glory." Being assured that 
 no harm was intended, he became satisfied, and 
 began to return -what he thought suitable kind- 
 nesses. His old fur mantle and deer skin shoes 
 were delivered to Newport for his king, and to 
 " his father Newport" was given for himself " an 
 heap of ears of corn, containing perhaps some 
 seven or eight bushels." Newport having talked 
 largely of going to the salt water, and visiting 
 the reo-ion of the Monacans, the last counsel of 
 the old man at parting was, that he should not 
 attempt it ; but if he was determined to try it, 
 he would allow him no guides but the Indian boy 
 Namontack. 
 
 Thus the ceremony with Powhatan had end- 
 ed, and now they were again in Jamestown, with 
 little hope of any help from him in finding the 
 South Sea, after all their trouble. Still, New- 
 port was resolved upon the effort. Accordingly, 
 with one hundred and twenty chosen men, led 
 by Captain Waldo, Lieutenant Percy, Captain 
 Wynne, Mr. W^est, and Mr. Scrivener, he set 
 forward. Smith remained behind with eighty 
 or ninety feeble men, to prepare for relading the 
 ship. Ascending the James River as far as the 
 falls, they passed on thirty or forty miles over 
 land, through " a fair^ fertile, and well-watered 
 
JOHN SMITH. 123 
 
 country." Two towns of the Monacans were 
 discovered on the south side of the river, where 
 the people took Httle notice of them ; yet they 
 seized one of the petty kings, and took him 
 along as a guide on their way. In a little time 
 they became wearied, and sickening over the 
 adventure, started homeward. They had taken 
 with them " certain refiners," to seek mineral 
 treasures, and after visiting, therefore, what 
 they thought gold mines, and gathering some 
 shining dirt, they at length reached James- 
 town, " half sick, and all complaining, being 
 sadly harassed with toil, famine, and discon- 
 tent." 
 
 The expedition had ended precisely as Smith 
 expected. He w^ell understood, however, that 
 the best mode of quieting their complaints, 
 was to give them some useful employment. 
 Some of the mechanics were set to making 
 glass, while others were employed in making 
 tar, pitch, and potash. Leaving these under the 
 direction of the council at Jamestown, he started 
 with thirty others down the river, to teach them 
 " to cut down trees, make clapboards, and he in 
 the woods." Some of these were gentlemen, 
 unaccustomed to such work, and found it, of 
 course, hard; but he was determined to make 
 
124 JOHN S:\IITH. 
 
 them independent in a new c(»untr}', by teach- 
 ing them how to labor. He led the way in 
 the work, and in a little time they were like 
 " old wood-choppers." But he not only cured 
 their habits of idleness. The bad habit of 
 swearing prevailed among them at times, and 
 this did not please the captain. A remedy for 
 this was, therefore, applied. He caused every 
 man's oaths to be noticed during the day, and 
 when night came the whole were assembled, 
 and for every oath a man had used, a can of 
 vater was poured down his sleeve. This was a 
 strange punishment, but it seems to have pro- 
 duced the desired effect. In a short time the 
 bad practice was discontinued. Having drilled 
 them sufficiently in the woods, he returned with 
 them to Jamestowm. 
 
 He found that business had been neglected 
 again, that provisions were running low, and 
 that it was necessary to undertake an expe- 
 dition in search of corn. With eighteen men 
 he at once embarked in the barge, and leaving 
 orders that Lieutenant Percy should follow him 
 in a boat, w^ent up the Chickahomony river. 
 The Indians learning his wants were surly 
 and out of humor, and insolently refused to 
 trade on any terms. Smith was not to be driven 
 
JOHN SMITH. 125 
 
 oif in this way. He told them that he had not 
 come among them so much for corn, as for the 
 purpose of revenging his own captivity, and the 
 death of some of his countrymen. Then prompt- 
 ly landing his men, he prepared for battle. The 
 savages instantly fled. Presently some of them 
 returned, bringing presents of corn, fish, and fowl, 
 sueing earnestly for peace. They stated that 
 their corn that year was not abundant, and their 
 own wants great; yet they loaded the barge 
 with one hundred bushels ; and when Lieutenant 
 Percy soon after arrived, he received as much 
 more. Returning home, they were received with 
 great joy at Jamestown, for the supply was much 
 needed. Yet, while he was thus laboring abroad 
 for the good of the colony, some enemy was al- 
 Avays busy at home trying to injure him. " Such 
 was the malice and envy of some, (as it is writ- 
 ten,) that they had rather hazard a starving, 
 than that Smith's endeavors should prove so 
 much more effectual than theirs." Newport and 
 Ratcliffe had been planning, not only to depose 
 him from the presidency, but even to keep him 
 from, entering the fort, under the pretence that 
 he had left the place without their permission. 
 Their efforts, however, were so ridiculous and 
 wicked, that the people revolted, and they them- 
 
126 JOH>! SMITH. 
 
 selves very narrowly escaped " a greater mis- 
 chief." 
 
 The delay of the ship too, as on a former oc- 
 casion, produced trouble. A constant traffick- 
 ing was all the while going on between the 
 sailors and the Indians, in which, of course, the 
 former took care of their own private interests, 
 rather than those of the colony. Indeed, (it is 
 said,) they would sometimes steal articles from the 
 public stores, to trade with the Indians for their 
 furs and baskets. Certain it is, that of two or 
 three hundred axes, hoes, pickaxes, and other 
 instruments brought out for the use of the colony, 
 twenty only could be found at the end of six or 
 seven weeks. Thus these poor vagabonds preyed 
 upon the colony, and yet these were the men 
 who were soon to return to England to tell 
 what stories they pleased of Virginia — to talk 
 of the abundance there, and prevent supplies 
 ^om being sent out by the council. It was 
 Newport's business to check all this, yet it was 
 not done. Smith was greatly indignant, and 
 the ship being nearly ready to sail, he threatened 
 to send her home, and detain Newport a year in 
 the colony, that he might learn from experi- 
 ence what their real sufferings were. But 
 Newport became alarmed, acknowledged his 
 
JOHN SMITH. 
 
 127 
 
 fault, and was pardoned. At length, to the great 
 joy of the colony, the ship sailed homeward, 
 laden with " specimens of tar, pitch, turpentine, 
 potash, clapboards, and wainscot." On her 
 way out, she met at Point Comfort with Mr. 
 Scrivener, who had been up the Paraunkey 
 river in search of corn. He had with him a 
 quantity of pocones, (a red root used ill dying,) 
 and these were given to Newport, as farther spe- 
 cimens of the products of the country. 
 
 Among other strange things taken to Eng- 
 land by this ship, was a letter from Captain 
 Smith to the Council at home. It seems that 
 the Council in England had strange ideas of the 
 New Workl, and supposed that every adventure 
 would return them ample supplies of gold and 
 silver. In this thought they had of course been 
 disappointed, and therefore had readily listened 
 from time to time, to the enemies who murmured 
 against the colonial settlements. Under the in- 
 fluence of this feeling, they had sent by New- 
 port a letter to Captain Smith, making com- 
 plaints against the colony in Virginia. The 
 principal complaints were, of the hopes that had 
 been fed, only to be disappointed ; of the quar- 
 rels and divisions among the colonists, and a 
 foolish project about dividing the country, of 
 
128 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 which the late president had "written to the Earl 
 of SaHsbury ; and the whole concluded with a 
 threat, that " unless the charge of this voyage, 
 amounting to about two thousand pounds, was 
 defrayed by the ship's return, they should be de- 
 serted, and left to remain there as banished 
 men." It was in reply to this that Smith now 
 returned them a bold letter containing a fail 
 statement of facts. 
 
 As to their complaints, he denies that he had 
 ever fed them with vain hopes, or that he knew 
 or had ever heard before, any thing about the 
 project for dividing the country. As for quar- 
 rels among the colonists, they were caused (in 
 spite of his efforts at peace) by bad and dis- 
 orderly men, of whom Ratcliffe and Archer were 
 the chief, and that he now sent them home to get 
 rid of them. In fact, the people were so pro- 
 voked against Ratcliffe that it was necessary to 
 send him home to save his life, for many of them 
 were ready to cut his throat. 
 
 Next he brings his complaints against them ; 
 that they had listened to idle complaints from 
 enemies of the colony, (of whom he suspected 
 Newport to be the greatest,) and had not at- 
 tempted properly to aid them ; that they had 
 sent out a parcel of idlers or useless manufac- 
 
JOHN SMITH. 129 
 
 turers into the settlement, from time to time, in- 
 stead of sending such men as were needed. He 
 begged them, hke sensible men, to dismiss all 
 thoughts of getting rich immediately through 
 the colony, and to send to him carpenters, gar- 
 deners, fishermen, blacksmiths, and masons. 
 Thirty of these (he stated) would be w^orth more 
 in Virginia than all their fine gentlemen. 
 
 He then complains of the last adventure of 
 New^port ; that they had sent him to the country 
 with a foolish project in his head for finding the 
 South Sea, and laden him with rich presents for 
 Powhatan ; that he himself had opposed this 
 plan, because he thought it idle, but when the 
 Council approved it, he had joined them heart 
 and hand ; that every facihty had been offered 
 to Newport for the etTort, and he had completely 
 failed, as he knew he w^ould ; that Pow^hatan had 
 been crowned, and the presents delivered to him, 
 from which he expected nothing but trouble for 
 the colony. As for the two thousand pounds 
 which the voyage had cost, the colony had not 
 received the benefit of one hundred ; that New- 
 port and his sailors were only a tax to them, for 
 they had to furnish them wdth supplies homeward. 
 These, with many other direct charges, w^ere in 
 the letter ; and in conclusion, (that they might 
 
130 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 see he had not been i<lle,) he stated that he sent 
 them by the ship some stones, which he sup- 
 posed might contain iron ore, with the places 
 marked where they were found, together with his 
 map of Chesapeake Bay, and his description of 
 the countries he had discovered. * 
 
 The ship having departed, he commenced 
 again gathering supplies. With Captain Wynne 
 and Mr. Scrivener as his companions, he set out 
 immediately for the Nandsamond river. It seems 
 the Indians on that river had promised to give 
 him four hundred baskets of corn. This they 
 were now unwiUing to do, and even refused to 
 trade with him in any way. They tried to ex- 
 cuse themselves, by saying, that " their corn 
 was almost all spent," and that Powhatan had 
 commanded them not to part with what they 
 had, nor to allow the English to enter the river. 
 Smith at once resolved to use force. He com- 
 manded his party to discharge the muskets, and 
 the Indians fled without shooting an arrow. 
 Then marching up to their houses, they set fire 
 to the first they came to. The savages, see- 
 ing this, came to terms. They proposed to 
 give them half the corn they had, and to plant 
 corn purposely for them the next year, if they 
 would spare their houses. Before night the boats 
 
JOHN SMITH. 131 
 
 were loaded, and ere long they weie again in 
 Jamestown with provisions. They reached home 
 in time to attend the first wedding in Virginia, 
 when John Laydon was married to Anne Burras. 
 
 In a little time, he was off again in company 
 with Captain Waldo, with two barges in Chesa- 
 peake Bay. Corn w^as again his object, but the 
 Indians all fled at the sight of him. At length 
 he found friends upon the Appamatox river, 
 among that tribe of Indians. They had but lit- 
 tle corn, yet they divided it cheerfully with him, 
 and in return he gave them " copper, and such 
 other toys as fully satisfied them." 
 
 All this, however, was but a present supply, 
 and some of the men w^ere soon out upon like 
 excursions ; sometimes wdth and often without 
 success. They had some hardships, which w^ere 
 accounted light, because they had before them a 
 heavier one in the fear of starvation. The sea- 
 son was a severe one, but in their long excur- 
 sions they '' camped out cheerfully at night." 
 The ground w^as covered with snow, yet they 
 would dig it away, make a fire upon the earth 
 to warm it, clear away the ashes, and then 
 spread their mats for sleeping. When the ground 
 became cold again, they w^ould at once, without 
 a murmur, prepare another spot in the same 
 
132 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 way. It is said that these hardy adventurers 
 were the heahhiest men in the colony. 
 
 To make an end of this perpetual anxiety 
 about food, Smith resolved upon the bold ex- 
 periment of seizing Powhatan and all his stores. 
 He called together some members of the council, 
 and confidentially told them of his intention. 
 Waldo was greatly in favor of the attempt, 
 but Wynne and Scrivener warmly opposed it. 
 Nevertheless, his mind was bent upon it. It 
 seems that Powhatan had some stratagem at 
 work in his own mind at this time ; for now, 
 strangely enough, he sent inviting Smith to 
 come and see him, and promising to load his 
 barge with corn upon certain conditions. These 
 were, that " he would send some workmen to 
 build him a house, and would orive him a orlnd- 
 stone, fifty swords, some muskets, a cock and a 
 hen, with much copper and beads.'* Instantly 
 taking advantage of this message. Smith sent off 
 two Englishmen and four Germans, to build his 
 house. Unfortunately, however, as it turned out 
 for his enterprise, he gave these men certain in- 
 structions as to their behavior, and told them of 
 his whole plan. He at once commenced mak- 
 ing preparations to follow them. As the enter- 
 prise was perilous, he urged no man to go, but 
 
JOHN SMITH. 133 
 
 left all to volunteer for themselves, if they pleas- 
 ed. His crew, gathered in this way, consisted 
 of forty-six persons, besides Captain Waldo. 
 Leaving Mr. Scrivener to manage during his 
 absence, and taking with him the necessary pro- 
 visions for a few days, on the twenty-ninth of 
 December he departed with the bark and two 
 barges. 
 
 The first night they stopped at the Indian vil- 
 lage, WarraskoyaCk, not far from Jamestown. 
 Here they were treated with great kindness by 
 the chief of the settlement, and received ad- 
 ditions to their supplies. Upon learning that 
 Smith was going on a visit to Powhatan, he 
 tried to dissuade him from it ; finding him re- 
 solute in his intention, he at last said to him, 
 " Captain Smith, you shall find Powhatan to use 
 you kindly, but trust him not; and be sure he 
 have no opportunity to seize on your arms, for 
 he has sent for you only to cut your throats." 
 Thanking him for his advice. Smith asked to be 
 furnished with a guide to the Chawonocks, a na- 
 tion dwelling between the Nottaway and Me- 
 herrm rivers, in Carolina, as he desired to make 
 a friend of the king of that people. The guide 
 was found, and one of the company (Michael 
 Sicklemore, an honest and faithful man) was 
 12 
 
134 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 sent with h'lm, bearing presents, and instructions 
 to search .for silk-grass, and some one of the 
 lost colony of Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 The next night they lodged at Kecoughtan. 
 Here they were detained six or seven days by 
 the wind and rain. During this time they were 
 entertained merrily by the natives, and feasted 
 with them upon their oysters, fish, and wild-fowl. 
 At length, after several accidents, they arrived 
 on the twelfth of January at Werowocomoco 
 They found the river frozen nearly half a mile 
 from the shore ; but Smith, breaking the ice, ran 
 one of his barges up as far as he could, until he 
 was " left by the ebb upon the oozy shoals." Di- 
 recting two men to remain with the barge, and 
 w^hen she should float to put her aboard the 
 bark, cold as it was, he leaped into the water. 
 His men followed his example, and through the 
 mud and ice they waded to the shore. They 
 quartered in the first cabin which they found, 
 and at once sent to Powhatan for provisions. 
 He immediately supphed them with " plenty of 
 bread, turkeys, and venison," and they spent the 
 night in tolerable comfort. 
 
 The day following, Powhatan feasted them 
 in fine style, and after this asked them '^ when 
 they were going away." Neither he nor his 
 
JOHN SMITH. 135 
 
 people (he said) had expected them, and if 
 it was corn they were in search of, they had 
 none to spare. Smith rephed, that this was very 
 strange, and instantly produced the messengers 
 who had brought to him Powhatan's invitation 
 and offer. The wily chief, thus confronted, 
 endeavored to turn off his falsehood with a 
 laugh, and asked the Captain to " shew him his 
 commodities." After looking at many things, 
 he seemed to value nothing but the guns and 
 swords. As for the copper which was shewn to 
 him, he told Smith plainly that he " valued a 
 basket of corn higher than a basket of copper." 
 The Captain was of course indignant at such 
 behavior, and spoke to the chief quite as plain- 
 ly in return. He told him that he might have 
 procured provisions, in many places, but relying 
 on his promises, had neglected to do so; and that 
 at his request he had at once sent men to build 
 his houses, while his own w^ere unfinished. He 
 then charged him boldly with keeping back his 
 people's corn- and forbidding them to trade, 
 '' thmking by consuming time to consume them ;" 
 that as for swords and guns, he had none to 
 spare, and that he must be aware that those he 
 had could keep him from starving. Yet, he de- 
 clared, he would neither rob nor wrong him, nor 
 
136 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 in any way break the friendship between them 
 unless he was compelled to do so by unkind 
 treatment. The king listened attentively to all 
 he said, and promised that he and his people 
 should spare him all the corn they could part with, 
 and that he should receive it in two days. "But 
 I have some doubt (said he) about the reason of 
 your coming hither. I am informed from many 
 hands, that you come, not to trade, but to invade 
 my people, and to possess my country. This 
 makes me less ready to relieve you, and frightens 
 my people from bringing in their corn. And 
 therefore, to ease them of that fear, leave your 
 arms aboard, since they are needless here, where 
 we are all friends, and for ever Powhatans." 
 
 Smith was not aware that Powhatan knew 
 his intentions, nor did he, until six montlis after- 
 wards, learn that at that very instant the chief 
 understood his w^hole design. The truth was, 
 the Germans had betrayed him. These men, 
 perceiving the abundance of Powhatan, had con- 
 cluded that it was better to have the friendship 
 of such a chief, than to hang on to a half starv- 
 ing colony, and had therefore opened the whole 
 design of the English. This baseness was not 
 at all suspected, for Smith had great confidence 
 in these Germans, and had especially charged 
 
JOHN SMITH. 
 
 137 
 
 one of them, before leaving Jamestown, to act 
 as a spy upon Powhatan. 
 
 After this, while waiting for the people to 
 come in, he managed to purchase of the chief 
 about eighty bushels of corn, with an old copper 
 kettle. Smith declared that the kettle was 
 worth far more, but, considering the scarcit}^, 
 agreed to part with it, provided that Powhatan 
 would promise to give him as much more corn 
 the next year. This promise he readily gave, 
 and the trade was made. 
 
 But Powhatan still continued to urge him to 
 lay aside his arms. " Captain Smith, (said he,) 
 I am a very old man, having seen the death of 
 three of the generations of my people. None of 
 these is now living except myself, and I know 
 the difference between peace and war better 
 than any in my country. But now I am old, 
 and ere long must die, and my brethren, Opit- 
 chapan, Opechancanough, and Kekataugh, and 
 my two sisters, and their daughters, must suc- 
 ceed me. I wish their experience no less than 
 mine, and your love to them no less than mine 
 to you. But the rumor that has reached us, 
 that you are come to destroy my country, has 
 frightened my people, and they dare not visit 
 you. What will it profit you to take by force 
 12* 
 
138 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 what you may quickly have by love, or to de- 
 stroy them that provide you food ? What can 
 you get by war, when we can hide our pro- 
 visions and fly to the woods? whereby you 
 must famish by wronging us your friends. And 
 why are you so suspicious of our loves ? seeing 
 that we are unarmed, and ready to feed you with 
 that you cannot get but by our labors. Do 
 you think I am so simple as not to know it is 
 better to eat good meat, lie well, and sleep 
 quietly with my women and children, laugh and 
 be merry with you, have copper, hatchets, or 
 what I want, being your friend, than to be forced 
 as your enemy to fly from all ; to lie cold in the 
 woods, to feed upon acorns, roots, and such trash, 
 and be so hunted by you, that I can neither rest, 
 eat, nor sleep, but my tired men must watch, 
 and, if a twig but break, every one cries out, 
 ' There comes Captain Smith ;' then I must fly 
 I know not whither, and thus with miserable 
 fear end my miserable life. Be assured then, of 
 our loves. Every year Ave can supply you with 
 corn, and now too we are ready to give it, if 
 you would only come into our country in a peace- 
 ful way. We are not your enemies, therefore 
 lay aside your arms." 
 
 To this speech Captain Smith answered in the 
 
JOHN SMITH. 139 
 
 following words : " Since you will not rightly 
 understand our words, we must strive to make 
 you know our thoughts by our deeds. The vow 
 I made you of my love, both myself and my 
 men have kept ; as for your promise, I find it 
 every day violated by s6me of your subjects. 
 Yet we have never been ungrateful for your 
 kindness, and for your sake only have we curbed 
 our revenge ; else they had known as well the 
 cruelty we use to our enemies, as our true love 
 and courtesy to our friends. You must under- 
 stand, as well by the adventures we have un- 
 dertaken, as by the advantage we have by our 
 arms, that had we intended you any injury, we 
 could long since have effected it. Your people 
 coming to Jamestown bring their bows and ar- 
 rows, and no complaint is made. It is our cus- 
 tom to wear our arms as our apparel. As for 
 the danger of our enemies, in such wars consist 
 our chiefest pleasure ; and for your riches, we 
 have no use. As to your flying to the woods 
 and hiding your provisions, that would not hurt 
 us, for we have a way of finding hidden things 
 which you do not understand." 
 
 They soon now began to trade; but Powhatan 
 finding that he could not have his own way — 
 that Smith Avas still obstinate, and would not al- 
 
140 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 low his men to put away their arms, broke out 
 again. " Captain Smith, I never used any chief 
 so kindly as yourself; yet, from you, I receive 
 the least kindness of any. Captain Newport 
 gave me swords, copper, clothes, or whatever 
 else I desired, ever accepting what I offered 
 him, and would send away his guns when re- 
 quested. No one refuses to lie at my feet, or to 
 do what I demand, but you only. Of you I can 
 have nothing, but what you value not, and yet 
 you have whatever you please. Captain New- 
 port you call father, and so you call me ; but I 
 can see, in spite of us both, you will do what you 
 will, and we must both study to humor and 
 please you. If you intend so friendly as you say, 
 send away your arms." 
 
 Smith now perceived that Powhatan was only 
 trifling, that he might gain time to get him in 
 his possession. He therefore procured some In- 
 dians to break the ice, that his boat might come 
 in to take away his corn, and at the same time 
 gave secret orders for more men to come ashore 
 to surprise the king. In the mean time, to allay 
 all suspicion, he entertained the chief with much 
 good humored talk, promising the next day to 
 lay aside his aims, and to shew, by trusting in 
 his word, that he loved him, and confided in him 
 
JOHN SMITH. 141 
 
 as a father. But hearing that they were break- 
 ing the ice, Powhatan became alarmed, and 
 hurried away with his women, children, and 
 luggage. Yet, to avoid suspicion, he left two 
 or three of his women talking with the Captain, 
 while he secretly ran off, and in a little time his 
 warriors as secretly surrounded the house where 
 they were talking. As soon as Smith discovered 
 this, he sallied out with his pistol, sword, and 
 shield. " At his first shot, those next him tum- 
 bled one over another, and the rest fled nimbly 
 off, some one way, some another." Thus, with- 
 out any injury, he fought his way to the main 
 body of his men. 
 
 Finding that he had escaped in spite of their 
 efforts, an attempt was now made on the part 
 of the savages to excuse this strange treatment. 
 An old warrior was sent to him by Powhatan, 
 bearing a large bracelet and chain of pearl, 
 who delivered to him the following message : 
 *'■ Captain Smith, our king has fled for fear of 
 your guns. Knowing, when the ice was open, 
 there would come more men ashore, he sent the 
 warriors, whom you assaulted, to guard your corn 
 from being stolen, which thing might happen 
 without your knowledge. Some of our men 
 have been hurt by your mistake, yet Powhatan 
 
142 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 is still your friend, and wi.l for ever continue so. 
 He now desires that (since the ice is open) you will 
 send away your corn; and if you expect his 
 company, that you will also send away your 
 guns, which so frighten his people, that they 
 are afraid to bring in their corn as he promised 
 they should." 
 
 Baskets were now cheerfully provided for the 
 English to carry the corn to the boat. The savages 
 kindly offered to guard their arms while they 
 were thus employed, but this of course was not 
 allowed. Smith had other business for them. 
 They were a cowardly set, easily frightened " at 
 the sight of the English cocking their matches," 
 and in a little time were all at work, with the 
 baskets on their shoulders, cheerfully and rapidly 
 loading the boats themselves. This being finish- 
 ed, Smith found that he must wait till late in the 
 evening for the next tide, before his boat could 
 move off, and in the mean time he, with his men, 
 repaired to their old quarters at the cabin. 
 
 Powhatan was still eager to have him in his 
 possession ; he thought, if he could seize him, the 
 colony was at once destroyed, and was prepar- 
 ing that night to surprise and take him. The 
 treacherous Germans also desired it, and were 
 ready to assist him in any plot. The plan was 
 
JOHxV SMITH. 143 
 
 to send at night some strong men with the pre- 
 sent of a rich supper from the chief to Smith ; 
 while he was eating, these men were to seize 
 him. If they failed in doing this, Powhatan, 
 with his forces, was to come down and take 
 him. The night proved dark and dismal, as if 
 to aid this stratagem. But the providence of 
 God had raised for Smith a friend, who would 
 not wiUingly see him destroyed. The friend- 
 ship of Pocahontas again served him. In the midst 
 of the darkness she came alone through the 
 woods, and told Smith of the whole plan. " Good 
 cheer (she said) would be sent to them soon; 
 but that Powhatan, with all the forces he could 
 raise, would soon come to kill them all, if those 
 who brought the victuals could not effect it with 
 their own arms while they were at supper." As 
 they valued their lives, therefore, she " begged 
 them to be o-one." Grateful for her noble-hearted 
 generosity. Smith offered her many presents, but 
 she refused them all. With tears running down 
 her cheeks, she declared that she could not re- 
 ceive them ; that she dared not be seen with 
 them, for if her father should in any way dis- 
 cover that she had opened his plot, he would in- 
 stantly kill her — " and so she ran away by her- 
 self as she came." 
 
144 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 Within less than an hour, ten strong men 
 came down, bringing large platters of venison 
 and other victuals. Spreading them before Smith, 
 they invited him and his companions to sit down 
 and eat ; begging them at the same time to put 
 out their matches, the smoke of w^hich (they said) 
 made them sick. But Smith made them taste 
 of every dish, to see if it was poisoned, and then 
 sent some of them back to Powhatan, telling 
 him " to make haste, for he w^as ready for his 
 coming." Soon after more messengers came 
 do\vn to learn the news, and not long after others; 
 but the English kept up a steady watch through 
 the night, and Powhatan's plan w^as defeated. 
 Not one of his men dared strike a blow\ 
 
 At high water the boat departed, leaving the 
 vagabond Germans still behind, (whose treachery 
 was not yet suspected,) to complete the house of 
 the crafty chief. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Powhatan by stratagem obtains arms at James- 
 town — Smith visits Opechancanough — Treach' 
 ery of the chief — Fearless behavior of Smith-^ 
 Accident at Jamestown — Returns home — Re- 
 bukes the colonists for idleness, and sets them 
 to work — Treachery of four Germans — Smith 
 attempts to seize one of them — Is attacked by 
 the chief of the Pashiphays — After a hard 
 struggle captures the chief and puts him in 
 chains — The chief escapes — Meets the Paship- 
 hays — Speech of Okaning — Incidents at James- 
 town — Industry of the colonists — Want of 
 food — Kindness of Powhatan — Mutinous con- 
 duct of some of the colonists — Smith checks it 
 — Plot to destroy Jamestown — Is discovered 
 and stopped — Arrival of Captain Argall. 
 
 They had scarcely set sail when Powhatan 
 
 despatched two of the Germans to Jamestown. 
 
 These plaj-ed their parts well for him. They 
 
 pretended to Captain Wynne that all things 
 
 13 
 
146 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 -were well, but that Captain Smith had need for 
 more arms, and therefore desired he would send 
 them, together with some spare tools and changes 
 of clothing. As their treachery was not sus- 
 pected, the articles were of course delivered to 
 them. Then they set to work privately to beat 
 up recruits among the colonists, and by talking 
 of the greatness of Powhatan, and the poor pros- 
 pects of the colony, managed to draw off some 
 six or seven. These, however, were worthless 
 men, and no loss to the colony. Yet they were 
 of great service to Powhatan, for being expert 
 thieves, they managed to steal for him fifty 
 swords, eight muskets, eight pikes, and a quan- 
 tity of powder and shot. Indians were always 
 lurking around the settlement, and the articles 
 being delivered to them, were readily carried 
 oflf. At the same time Powhatan kept one of 
 the Germans (who was a blacksmith) very busy 
 at Werowocomoco, working at his trade. Three 
 hundred tomahawks were made by him, and 
 these, together with the weapons that had 
 been stolen, gave to the king quite a supply of 
 arms. 
 
 In the mean time Captain Smith had gone with 
 his party to Pamunkey, the home of Opechanca- 
 nough. He was received kindly by this chief, 
 
JOHN SMITH. 147 
 
 and entertained with hospitality. A day was 
 soon set apart for their trading. At the ap- 
 pointed time, Smith, with fifteen others, went up 
 to the house of Opechancanough, in the village, 
 which was a quarter of a mile from the river. 
 They found here " nothing but a lame man and 
 a boy ;" all the houses having been stripped of 
 every thing and deserted. Presently the chief 
 came, and after him several of his people, laden 
 principally with bows and arrows. They had 
 with them some articles of traffic, but these 
 were so trifling, and offered at such high prices, 
 that Smith at once told Opechancanough, that 
 the professions of his tongue were proved by 
 his actions to be mere deceit. "Last year 
 (said he) you kindly freighted my vessel, but 
 have now treacherously invited me here to 
 famish and destroy me. You are not ignorant 
 of my wants, rveither am I ignorant of your 
 plenty, of which, by some means, I will have a 
 part. You should remember, that it is proper for 
 kings, above all others, to keep their promises. 
 I offer you all my commodities — you may take 
 your choice — the rest I will divide fairly among 
 your people." Opechancanough seemed kindly 
 to accept his offer, and, to cover his designs, at 
 once sold Smith all that he then had at his own 
 
148 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 prices, and promised to meet him the next day 
 with more people and more articles 
 
 At the appointed time Smith, with the same fif- 
 teen men, marched up to the king's house, where 
 he found four or five Indians just arrived, each 
 with a large basket. Soon after the king came in, 
 and began, with apparent cheerfulness, to tell 
 what great trouble he had taken to keep his 
 promise. This talk was suddenly cut short, 
 when Mr. Russel, one of the party, came run- 
 ning in, telling Smith that the house w^as 
 surrounded by seven hundred armed savages. 
 Some of his men were alarmed and began to 
 look pale, but Smith was undaunted. Rally- 
 ing them, he addressed them in the following 
 w^ords : 
 
 " Worthy countrymen, I feel far less concern 
 at the number and danger of the enemy, than at 
 the malicious representations which the Council 
 and their open mouthed minions will make in 
 England, about my breaking the peace. I, 
 alone, was once assaulted by three hundred sav- 
 ages, and, had it not been for an accident, w^ould 
 have made my way good among them all. We 
 are now sixteen, and the enemy but seven hun- 
 dred at the most. I desire, therefore, that you 
 will fight like men, and not die like sheep. If 
 
JOHN SMITH. 149 
 
 }'0u dare follow my example, and do as I do, I 
 doubt not, by God's assistance, to extricate you 
 out of the present difficulty and danger." 
 
 The men were instantly roused and ready to 
 brave any danger. They all vowed " to do 
 whatever he attempted or die." Then turning 
 to the chief, he said, " I see, Opechancanough, 
 your plot to murder me, but I am not afraid. As 
 yet your men and mine have done no harm, but 
 by our direction. Let us decide this matter by 
 single combat. Take, therefore, your arms — 
 you see mine — my body shall be as naked as 
 yours — you may choose your Aveapons. The 
 isle in your river is a fit place for the fight, if 
 you please. Let your men bring baskets of 
 corn. I will stake their value in copper, and 
 the conqueror shall be lord and master of all the 
 men and all the commodities." 
 
 This bold challenge was declined by Opechan- 
 canough. He had no idea of losing the ad- 
 vantage that he had. Still pretending friend- 
 ship, he urged Smith to go with him outside of 
 the door, and there receive a present which his 
 people had brought for him. This was done 
 only to draw him out, where two hundred men 
 stood, with their arrows resting in their bows, 
 ready to despatch him. Smith, perceiving the 
 13* 
 
150 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 treachery, instantly seized the king by bis scalp- 
 lock, and presenting his pistol, ready cocked, to 
 bis breast, dragged " him trembling and half 
 dead with fear," into the midst of his people. 
 Startled that any one should be bold enough to 
 use their king in this manner, the savages at 
 once threw down their bows and arrows, and 
 Opechancanough was glad to save himself by de- 
 livering: all his armor in token of submission. 
 Still holding the trembling chief by the hair^ 
 Smith thus addressed his people : " I see ye, 
 Pamunkeys, the great desire you have to kill 
 me, and that, my long suffering hath emboldened 
 you to this insolence. The reason I have for- 
 borne to punish you, is the promise I made you, 
 (before the God I serve,) that I would be your 
 friend, till you gave me just cause to be your 
 enemy. If I keep this vow, my God will keep 
 me — you cannot hurt me ; but if I break it, he 
 will destroy me. But if you shoot one arrow, to 
 shed one drop of blood of any of my men, or steal 
 the least of these beads, or this copper, I will take 
 such revenge (if I once begin) that you shall not 
 hear the last of me while there is a Pamunkey 
 alive. I am not now half drowned in the mire, as 
 when you took me prisoner. If I be the mark you 
 aim at, here I stand — shoot he that dares. You 
 
JOa^ SMITH. 151 
 
 promised to load my bark with corn; and 
 so you shall, or I will load her with your dead 
 carcasses. Yet, if as friends you will trade, I 
 once more promise that I will not trouble you, 
 unless you give me good cause ; and your king 
 shall be free and be my friend, for I am not 
 come to hurt him or any of you." 
 
 This speech made a wonderful impression. 
 The Indians were suddenly disposed to be great 
 friends. Men, women, and even children brought 
 to him their articles of traffic, and " for three 
 hours so thronged around him and wearied him," 
 th?t at last he was forced, in self-defence, to re- 
 tire into the house, that he might rest, leaving 
 others to trade and receive their presents. He 
 soon now fell asleep. While sleeping, some 
 fifty Indians, armed with clubs and swords, man- 
 aged to get into the house, evidently with the 
 design of murdering him. Roused by the noise, 
 he sprang up, seized his sword and target, and 
 soon drove them out faster than they came in. 
 Opechanranough, with some of the old warriors, 
 endeavored, in a long talk, to excuse this con- 
 duct. " The rest of the day was spent with 
 much kindness, the Indians renewing their pre- 
 sents, and feasting the English with their best 
 provisions." 
 
152 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 While these things were going on, a sad ac- 
 cident had happened at the fort, of which Smith 
 now heard. It seems that Mr. Scrivener had 
 received letters from England by the last ship, 
 which gave him a great idea of his own import- 
 ance ; and though Smith loved him as a brother, 
 Scrivener had learned to dislike him. These 
 letters (it is said) "made him conceited and 
 headstrong." On a cold and boisterous day, he 
 determined to visit Hog Island, not far from 
 Jamestown, and in spite of all remonstrance, 
 persuaded Captain Waldo and nine others to 
 accompany him in the skiff. She was so 
 overloaded that she could scarcely have lived 
 in calm weather; as it w^as, she sunk, and all 
 on board were drowned. It was difficult to 
 find any one to carry the sorrowful news to 
 the President, until at last INIr. Richard Wiffin 
 undertook to do it. He encountered many 
 difficulties and dangers as he passed toward 
 W^erowocomoco, where he expected to find 
 him. Here his danger was greater, for he 
 found the people engaged in preparation for 
 war, and escaped being seized only by the kind- 
 ness of Pocahontas. She managed to hide him, 
 at the same time " sending those who were in 
 search of him a contrary way." After three 
 
JOHN SMITH. 153 
 
 day's travel he now reached Smith at Pamun- 
 key, and gave him the melancholy tidings. He 
 was very sad, but prudently took from Wiffin a 
 promise that he would not tell his men. Hid- 
 ing his grief as well as he could through the 
 day, when night came he set Opechancanough 
 at liberty, as he had promised, and went with 
 his men on board the bark. 
 
 Smith's heart was still bent on seizing Pow- 
 hatan, and he watched for his opportunity as he 
 now returned down the river. It seems that 
 Powhatan was equally anxious to secure him, 
 and had threatened some of his men with death, 
 if they did not kill him. Both parties conse- 
 quently being on the look out, no harm was done 
 on either side. The Indians (it is said) so 
 dreaded Captain Smith that they were afraid to 
 attack him, even at the command of Powhatan, 
 and were loading him with presents if he seemed 
 the least angry. Some of them, however, made 
 an effort to despatch him in a quiet way by 
 poisoning him. Fortunately he was only made 
 sick, and threw the poison from his stomach. 
 In a little time he caught Wecuttanow, (the In- 
 dian who had brought him the poisoned food as 
 a present,) and whipped him severely. 
 
 On the way between Werowocomoco and 
 
154 JOHN sMrrH. 
 
 Jamestown they met four or five of the colonists, 
 \vlio were in league wath the treacherous Ger- 
 mans, then on their way to Powhatan. The traitors, 
 to avoid suspicion, at once agreed to return with 
 them to the fort. They were soon quietly 
 moored at Jamestown, where, to the great joy 
 of the colony, they delivered over to the keeper of 
 the public stores two hundred pounds of deer's 
 suet, and four hundred and seventy-nine bushels 
 of corn. They had gained so much by their 
 perilous adventures. 
 
 As usual, Smith's presence was needed at James- 
 town. The provisions there had been much in- 
 jured by the rain, rats, and worms, and many of 
 their tools had been stolen and carried off by the 
 Indians. These things, together with the loss 
 of Scrivener and his party, had much discouraged 
 the people. The supplies w^hich Smith had 
 brought home, together with the damaged pro- 
 visions, (which w^ere not to be thrown away,) 
 were found ample to sustain them for one year 
 All fears of starving, therefore, for the present 
 being dismissed, he at once commenced vigor- 
 ously attending to other matters. 
 
 As he looked upon idleness as one great cause 
 of their trouble, he now called them all before 
 him, and told them, " that their late experience 
 
JOHN SMITH. 155 
 
 and misery were sufficient to persuade every one 
 to mend his ways; that they must not think 
 that either his pains or the purses of the adven- 
 turers at home would for ever maintain them in 
 sloth and idleness; that he knew that many de- 
 served more honor and a better reward than was 
 yet to be had, but that far the greatest part of 
 them must be more industrious or starve ; that it 
 was not reasonable that the labors of thirty or forty 
 honest and industrious men should be consumed, 
 to maintain one hundred and fifty loiterers ; and 
 that, therefore, every one that would not work 
 should not eat ; that they had often been screen- 
 ed and protected in their disobedience to his just 
 and necessary commands by the authority of the 
 council, but that now all being either dead or 
 gone, except Captain Wynne and himself, that 
 whole power rested, in effect, solely in him. He 
 therefore advised them not to feed themselves up 
 with the vain presumption that his authority was 
 but a shadow, and that his life must answer for 
 theirs ; for the letters patent and other powers 
 would prove the contrary, and should every 
 week be read to them; and every one that of- 
 fended might assuredly expect his due punish- 
 ment." 
 
 He then divided them all into companies. 
 
156 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 Six hours of each clay were to be spent in labor, 
 the rest in pastime and amusement. To encour- 
 age them the more, he kept a book, in which he 
 registered every man's daily conduct, that he 
 might animate the good, and spur on the rest by 
 shame. Most of them, after this, became very 
 industrious. 
 
 They still, however, missed arms and tools 
 from time to time, and at length discovered that 
 they were continually stolen by some of the 
 friends of the Germans, and carried to Pow- 
 hatan. You will remember that Smith and his 
 party had brought back, on their return, some 
 men, then on their way to Werowocomoco. 
 These had been expected by the Germans there, 
 and wondering what had become of them, one 
 of the Germans (by the advice of Powhatan) had 
 disguised himself as an Indian, and come down 
 as far as the glass-house, to learn, if possible, 
 what had delayed them. This glass-house was 
 about a mile from Jamestown, and was the 
 common place of meeting for these villains. 
 Smith, hearing of this, started with twenty 
 chosen men to arrest him, while some forty In- 
 dians, in some way learning that he was com- 
 ing, lay in ambush to seize him. Arriving at 
 the glass-house, he found that the German had 
 
JOHN SMITH. 157 
 
 escaped, and sent his men after him to take nim 
 before he should reach Powhatan. In the mean 
 time, armed only with his sword, he started alone 
 toward Jamestown. In his way he met the 
 chief of the Pashiphays, a man of great size and 
 strength. At first he endeavored to draw the 
 captain into the ambush, but failing in that, 
 tried to shoot him. Seeing this. Smith instantly 
 closed in and grappled with him. It was im- 
 possible for either of them to use weapons. It 
 was a bare contest of strength, and the Indian 
 being the strongest, dragged him into the river, 
 hoping to drown him. They had now a fierce 
 struggle in the water, until at last Smith got 
 hold of the savage's throat, and almost strangled 
 him. Then " disengaging himself, he drew his 
 sword," and would have killed him, but the poor 
 chief begged piteously for his life, and he con- 
 sented to spare him. He led him, however, as 
 a prisoner to Jamestown, and put him in chains. 
 In the mean time his men had taken the Ger- 
 man, and brought him in also as a prisoner, and 
 his treachery was at once made known by the 
 confession of the captive chief. Upon this, 
 Smith sent a message to Powhatan, offering im- 
 mediately to release the chief, if he would sur- 
 render the treacherous Germans. But this he 
 14 
 
158 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 was as unwilling to do, as the Germans were tc 
 come to Jamestown. While this was going on, 
 the chief of the Pashiphays managed to make 
 his escape. Efforts were made to recapture 
 him, but to no purpose. Captain W'^nne and 
 Lieutenant Percy, however, to punish him and 
 his tribe for his insolence, marched with a body 
 of fifty men into their country, slew many of the 
 peoplej burnt their houses, and took their canoes 
 and fishing weirs. Returning to Jamestown, they 
 set up these weirs for their own benefit. 
 
 Not long after this, as Smith was passing on 
 his way to the Chickahominy River, he was 
 assaulted by the Pashiphays; but as soon as 
 they knew him, they threw down their bows 
 and arrows, and sued for peace. One of 
 them (a young fellow named Okaning) came 
 forward and thus addressed him : — '* Captain 
 Smith, the chief, my master, is here among us. 
 He attacked you, mistaking you for Captain 
 Wynne, who has pursued us in war and injured 
 us. If he has offended you by escaping from 
 prison, I beg you will consider that the fish swim, 
 the fowls fly, and the very beasts strive to esca}>e 
 the snare and live; then blame not him, being 
 a man. Remember what pains he took to save 
 your life, when you were a prisoner. If he has 
 
JOHN SMITH. 159 
 
 injured you since, you have been amply revenged, 
 to our great loss. We know that you are de- 
 termined to destroy us, but we are here to entreat 
 your friendship, and beg that we may enjoy our 
 houses and plant our fields. You shall share the 
 fruits ; but if you drive us off, you will be the 
 worse for our absence. Though it may cost us 
 more labor, we can plant anywhere ; but we 
 know^ you cannot live unless you have our har- 
 vests to supply your wants. If you promise us 
 peace we will believe you : if you proceed in 
 revenge, we will quit the country." Smith at 
 once promised peace if they w^ould do no farther 
 injury, and bring in provisions to the fort. To 
 this they gladly agreed, and then parted good 
 friends. This friendship continued (it is said) 
 till Smith left the country. 
 
 Upon his return to Jamestown, an incident 
 occurred, which served to make him a still greater 
 man among the Indians. A pistol, it seems, had 
 been stolen by one of the Chickahominy tribe, 
 and the thief had escaped, while his two bro- 
 thers, who were known to be his companions, 
 were seized. Retaining one as a hostage. 
 Smith sent the other in search of the pistol, 
 telling him if he did not return with it in 
 twelve hours, his brother should be hanged. 
 
160 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 As the weather was cold, a charcoal fire was 
 made in the dungeon where the prisoner was 
 confined. The gas from the coal caused him to 
 faint away, and when his brother in a little time 
 returned with the pistol, he was in great agony, 
 supposing him to be dead. To comfort him, 
 Captain Smith told him, that if he would steal 
 no more, he would recover his brother. By the 
 use of brandy and vinegar, he soon began to 
 shew signs of life : but then he seemed crazy, 
 and this distressed his brother even more than 
 his death. The captain agreed to cure him of 
 this also. He knew that his delirium was caused 
 only by the liquor he had swallowed : and di- 
 recting that he should not be disturbed, a sound 
 sleep soon brought him to his senses. After 
 this. Smith gave presents to each of them, and 
 they returned homeward, telhng everywhere, by 
 the way, that " Captain Smith could bring the 
 dead to life," and his fame rang the louder 
 throughout all that region. 
 
 About the same time, another Indian at Wero- 
 wocomoco had managed to get a large bag of 
 gunpowder, and the back-piece of a suit of ar- 
 mor. He had sometimes seen the soldiers at 
 Jamestown drying their powder over the fire, 
 and he now undertook to do the same thing by 
 
JOHN SMITH. 161 
 
 spreading it out upon this piece of armor. His 
 companions stood anxiously peeping over him to 
 see his skill, when suddenly the powder explod- 
 e<l, killed three upon the spot, and inju ed 
 several others. The Indians learned now more 
 than ever to fear " the white men's gunpow- 
 der." " These, with some other accidents, so 
 frightened and amazed Powhatan and his people, 
 that they flocked from all parts, and with pre- 
 sents desired peace — returning many stolen 
 things, which had never been demanded or 
 thought of by the English. And ever after, 
 during the remainder of Captain Smith's admin- 
 istration, both Powhatan and his people would 
 send back to Jamestown such as had been taken 
 stealing, to receive their punishment; and the 
 whole country became as absolutely free and 
 safe to the English as to themselves."* 
 
 Now the colonists pursued their business with 
 industry and success. They made quantities of 
 tar, pitch, and potash, succeeded in making a 
 fair sample of glass, dug a well of excellent 
 water in the fort, which, till then, was wanting, 
 built about twenty houses, put a new roof on 
 the church, provided nets and weirs for fishing, 
 
 • Stith's History of Virginia, page 97. 
 
 14* 
 
162 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 and to stop the disorders of the thieves and In- 
 dians, erected a block house on the " neck of the 
 island." Here the trade of the Indians was to 
 be received, and soldiers were stationed, so that 
 no man (either Indian or colonist) should pass 
 and repass without an order from the president. 
 " Thirty or forty acres of ground were broken up 
 and planted." Another block house was built 
 upon Hog Island, and a garrison stationed there 
 to give prompt notice of the arrival of any ships. 
 For their exercise, at leisure times, " they made 
 clapboard and wainscot." In the midst of all 
 this industry and good order, Captain Wynne 
 died. He was the only remaining member of 
 the council, and now the whole government de- 
 volved upon Captain Smith. 
 
 This happy state of things was soon interrupt- 
 ed again by a general fear of starvation. Upon 
 an examination of their supplies, they found half 
 their corn rotten, and the rest badly damaged 
 by the rats. All ordinary work was stopped, 
 and the people employed themselves diligent- 
 ly to procure provisions. The Indians were 
 very kind, bringing in from day to day, squir- 
 rels, turkeys, and deer, and Powhatan even di- 
 vided his stock of corn with them. Notwith- 
 standing this friendship. Smith found it necessary 
 
JOHN SMITH. 163 
 
 to send sixty of his men down the river to hve 
 upon oysters. Twenty were sent to the falls 
 with Mr. West, and as many more to Point 
 Comfort with Lieutenant Percy, that they might 
 catch fish. Many were billeted among the In- 
 dians, who proved in every w^ay friendly. Quan- 
 tities of sturgeon w^ere taken, which " being dried 
 and pounded, and then mingled with sorrel and 
 wholesome herbs," made good food. Some 
 gTithered (we are told) as much Tuckahoe root 
 in a day as would make them bread for a week. 
 Notwithstanding their pinching wants, some 
 of the men (about 150) were worthless vaga- 
 bonds, unwilling to make any effort w^hatever 
 These fellows tormented Smith continually, beg- 
 ging him that he would sell their tools, iron, 
 swords, guns, and even their houses and ordnance 
 to the savages, for such food as they would give. 
 They went farther than this — even demanding 
 clamorously that he w^ould desert the country. 
 This w^as more than the captain could endure. 
 Seizing one of the w^orst of these lazy grumblers, 
 he caused him to be severely punished, and then 
 spoke to the rest as follows : " Fellow soldiers, 
 I little thought any so false as to report, or so 
 many so simple as to be persuaded, that I either 
 intend to starve you, or that Powhatan at this 
 
l64 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 time hath corn for himself, much less for you, or 
 that I would not have it if I knew where it were 
 to be had. Neither did I think any so malicious 
 as I now see many are ; yet it shall not provoke 
 me even from doing my best for the very worst 
 among you. But dream no longer of any help 
 from Powhatan : nor that I will any longer for- 
 bear to force the idle to work, and punish them 
 if they complain. If I find any one of you try- 
 ing to escape to Newfoundland in the pinnace, I 
 wdll certainly hang him at the gallows. You 
 cannot deny but that many a time I have saved 
 your lives at the hazard of my o^^•n ; when (if 
 your counsels had prevailed) you would all have 
 starved. I protest by the God that made me, 
 that since necessity will not force you to gather 
 the fruits of the earth for yourselves — you shall 
 not only gather for yourselves, but for those alsc 
 that are sick. You know I have fared with the 
 worst of you, and that my extra allowance has 
 always been divided amongst the sick. The sick 
 shall not starve, but share all our labors. He 
 that does not gather every day as much as I do, 
 the next day shall be put over the river, and be 
 banished from the fort as a drone, until he shall 
 mend his ways or starve." This speech caused 
 at first a great clamor and outcry. Every one, 
 
JOHN SMITH. 165 
 
 however, knew that Smith would do as he 
 threatened, and no man was bold enough open- 
 ly to disobey him. Most of them now set dili- 
 gently to work to help themselves. Some few, 
 still anxious to do nothing, and hearing that 
 those who had been billeted among the Indians 
 had been kindly treated, stole away from James- 
 town to make their homes with the savages. 
 But the Indians were so friendly to Smith, that 
 they at once caught them and brought them 
 back, where the poor WTetches were properly 
 punished for playing runaways. 
 
 You w^ill remember that Sicklemore had been 
 sent off to look for silk grass, and to find some 
 one of Sir Walter Raleigh's lost colony. He 
 now returned unsuccessful. As the council in 
 England, however, were particularly anxious 
 about this lost colony, Smith again sent two of 
 his men (Nathaniel Powel and Anas Todkill) to 
 inquire about them of the Mangoags, a tribe of 
 Indians dwelling upon some of the upper branches 
 of the Roanoake River in Carolina. Furnished 
 with suitable guides, they departed, but ere long 
 came back to Jamestown equally unsuccessful. 
 
 The treacherous Germans beginning again to 
 make trouble. Smith sent one of the Zionists (a 
 Swiss named Volday) to try to persuade them to 
 
166 JOIL\ SMI'IH. 
 
 come home. But this fellow, while pretending 
 to hate the villany of these deserters, was in 
 fact as great a traitor as any one of them. He 
 had scarcely reached them when he becran to 
 conspire with them to destroy the colony. Know- 
 ing the distress at Jamestown ; that the colonists 
 were mostly wandering about in search of food, 
 and the fort consequently but slightly guarded, 
 he went to Powhatan and offered, if he would 
 lend him forces, not only to burn the town 
 and seize the bark, but to make most of the 
 colonists his slaves. This plot was made known 
 to certain discontented fellows at the fort, in the 
 hope of receiving their aid ; but two of them 
 Avere so smitten with horror at the thought of it, 
 that they instantly revealed it to Smith. Such 
 was the rage and indignation now towards these 
 conspirators, that several volunteered to go to 
 "Werowocomoco immediately 'and kill them in 
 the very presence of the king. Two of them 
 (Mr. Wiffin and Jeffery Abbot) were at length 
 despatched expressly for the purpose. But the 
 Germans, upon their arrival, deceived Abbot with 
 a fair story, and Wiffin was not willing to at- 
 tempt the business alone ; so the villains escaped. 
 Powhatan'^acted very properly in this matter. 
 As soon as he heard of the business upon which 
 
JOHN SMITH. 167 
 
 Wiffin and Abbot had come, he sent word to 
 Smith that he would neither protect the Ger- 
 mans, nor prevent his men from executing his 
 design upon them, for he would entertain no 
 man who was his enemy. One of these Germans 
 afterwards returned to Jamestown on a promise 
 of pardon. The others who remained at Wero- 
 wocomoco could make no farther mischief, so far 
 as Smith was concerned, for he was rever- 
 enced by Powhatan and the surrounding tribes 
 to such an extent, that they instantly informed 
 him of any intended plot. 
 
 Heavier troubles, however, were soon to fall 
 upon Smith, and all the colony. Captain Samuel 
 Argall now arrived from England, with the pur- 
 pose of trading with the colony and fishing for stur- 
 geon. His ship was well laden with wine and pro- 
 visions. " This was a prohibited trade, but Argall 
 being a kinsman to Sir Thomas Smith, the trea- 
 surer, it was overlooked. The necessities of the 
 colony obliged them to take his provisions, by 
 which his voyage was lost ; but they revictual- 
 led him when their next supply arrived, and 
 sent him to England with a full account of the 
 state of their affairs. By this ship they received 
 letters, which taxed the president for his hard 
 usage of the natives, and for not returning the 
 
168 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 ships freighted. And now also they first had an 
 account of the alterations in England, and of the 
 great preparations and large supply to be sent 
 by the Lord Delaware, appointed Captain Gen- 
 eral and Governor in chief of Virginia."* 
 
 * Stith's Virginia, page 100. 
 
CHAPTER Vm. 
 
 JVew charter granted by the king to the Virginia 
 Company — Smith is deposed^ and Lord Dela- 
 ware made governor of Virginia — Seven ships 
 arrive at Jamestown — Confusion in the colony 
 — 'Courage and services of Smith — Frieridship 
 of the Indians toward him — Is seriously in- 
 jured by an accident — Conspiracy to murder 
 fiiffi — Friendship of his old soldiers — Returns 
 to England — State of the colony at his depar- 
 ture — His loss is felt severely in the colony. 
 
 It seems strange that after all the struggles 
 of Smith, the council in England should have 
 been dissatisfied with him. Their conduct, how- 
 ever, is explained when you remember that they 
 were continually looking for returns of gold and 
 silver from Virginia, and were continually dis- 
 appointed. Newport's last arrival from the colo- 
 ny had disappointed them more than ever ; 
 Smith's letter had provoked them, and Newport, 
 acting a miserable part, had wilfully misrepre- 
 sented the condition of the colony. He seems 
 15 
 
170 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 to have been a weak but ambitious man, willing 
 to elevate himself in any way, however mean. 
 The council, therefore, asked the kinor for a new 
 charter for the colony, which was readily grant- 
 ed. This charter is dated the 23d of May, 1609. 
 By it. Lord Delaware was made Captain General 
 of Virginia ; Sir Thomas Gates his Lieutenant 
 General ; Sir George Somers, Admiral ; Captain 
 Newport, Vice Admiral ; Sir Thomas Dale, 
 High Marshal, and Sir Ferdinando Wainman, 
 General of the Horse. The powers of the old 
 President and Council in Virginia were set aside, 
 and the colonists were commanded at once to 
 render obedience to these new officers. 
 
 The council at once commenced making pre- 
 parations for an enterprise toward the new world, 
 and in a little time Sir Thomas Gates, Sir George 
 Somers, and Captain Newport, were ready with 
 nine ships and five hundred people. It was 
 agreed in the council that whichever of these 
 three officers should reach Virginia fiist, he was 
 to govern the colony, until the arrival of Lord 
 Delaware. Jealous of the possible authority of 
 each other, to settle this matter, they agreed to 
 embark in the same ship. On the last of May, 
 thf^ whole fleet sailed from England. On the 
 25l1i of July they were visited by a hurricane, 
 
JOHN SMITH. 171 
 
 which separated the ship, bearing the officers 
 from the fleet, and drove her ahnost a wreck 
 among the Bermuda Islands. Unfortunately, 
 there were on board this vessel, besides one hun- 
 dred and fifty of the emigrants, " all the bills of 
 lading, all the instructions and directions, and 
 the best part of their provisions." Another 
 smaller ship was wrecked in the same tempest, 
 while the other seven, riding out the storm, ar- 
 rived safely at Jamestown. 
 
 The guard on duty at the block house, mark- 
 ing their approach, gave notice, and immediately 
 the whole colony w^as under arms. Smith, sup- 
 posing that it was a fleet of Spaniards coming 
 to invade them, called the men to their duty, and 
 the Indians, in their love for him, volunteered to 
 assist in fighting the expected battle. Their 
 fears, however, w^ere soon over, when they dis- 
 covered that the fleet w^as manned by their coun- 
 trymen. 
 
 A battle with Spaniards, however, w^as pre- 
 ferable to what soon occurred. In the ships 
 that arrived were three w'orthless men, well 
 known in the colony. These were Ratcliflfe, 
 Archer, and Martin. Hating Smith as they did, 
 they had busied themselves during the whole 
 voyage, in telling falsehoods, and endeavoring 
 
172 JOHN SMITH 
 
 to make enemies for him. They had, in a good 
 degree, succeeded : and now the new comers 
 \vere scarcely ashore, before their temper and 
 bearing toward him began to be seen. No new 
 commission had as yet arrived to set aside his 
 authority, yet they refused to obey him, and pre- 
 tended first to set up one governor and then an- 
 other, until the whole colony was one scene of 
 confusion. The old settlers, who knew their 
 captain's worth, stood by him firmly, but he, 
 disgusted with the madness of these new comers, 
 allowed them for a time to have their own way 
 and do as they pleased. 
 
 The German too, who had returned under 
 promise of pardon, proved traitor again. Seeing 
 the distraction of the colony, and hearing the 
 loud talk of the new adventurers, he again went 
 over to Powhatan, promising to do " wonders for 
 him upon the arrival of Lord Delaware." The 
 Germans still at Werowocomoco joined the fel- 
 low in his promises, but Powhatan understood 
 too well the value of such friends. Knowing 
 that treason is base, and that the men who would 
 betray Smith, might one day be as ready to be- 
 tray him, he ordered his men to seize them and 
 beat out their brains. Void ay was the only 
 traitor of the old gang left, and that you may 
 
JOHN SMITH. 173 
 
 see the full reward of iniquity, I may as well tell 
 you at once, that he managed to escape to Eng- 
 land before this, made great promises of what 
 he would do for the council, and was sent back 
 with Lord Delaware to carry out his fine pur- 
 poses. In a little time he was found to be a 
 mere impostor, and died in misery and disgrace. 
 Wearied and disgusted with the confusion at 
 Jamestown, Smith began now to think of return- 
 ing to England. But the madness of the new 
 comers had reached such a pitch, that the sober 
 men among them saw that their only safety 
 was to be found in securing his protection. They 
 therefore w^ent to him, begging that he would 
 remember that no new governor had arrived, that 
 his commission had not yet expired, and entreat- 
 ing him to abandon the thought of leaving them, 
 and to restore order in the colony. Ever rea- 
 dy to sacrifice his own feelings for the pub- 
 lic good, Smith consented to remain, and set 
 himself courageously to the task of reforming 
 abuses, even at the point of his life. He seized 
 RatclifFe, Archer, and other leaders of the riot, 
 and cast them into prison, until a leisure time 
 should come for their fair trial. Thoroughly to 
 break up the plots of the conspirators, he thought 
 it best to divide them. Martin was sent with 
 15* 
 
174 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 one hundred and twenty men to make a set- 
 tlement at Nansamond, while Mr. West was 
 despatched with the same number to make a 
 settlement at the falls. Each was supplied with 
 a good stock of provisions. Before Martin left. 
 Smith, by one act, gained still greater popularity. 
 He offered to resign in his favor, and allow him 
 to act as governor. But Martin, though a weak 
 man, knew he was not fit for the place, and de- 
 clined it — preferring to take his men to Nansa- 
 mond. 
 
 His settlement at Nansamond, however, proved 
 a perfect failure. The Indians w^ere very kind, 
 but such was " his jealousy of them, that he sur- 
 prised the poor naked king, and his monuments 
 and his houses, with the island wherein he lived, 
 and there fortified himself." This outrag^ed the 
 savages. Gathering in numbers, they attacked 
 him, killed several of his men, released theii 
 king, and carried off a thousand bushels of corn. 
 He was so frightened that he made but little 
 effort to oppose them ; but sent off to James- 
 town for thirty soldiers. These were immedi- 
 ately sent, but seeing Martin's cowardice, came 
 back, refusing to serve under such a leader. He 
 soon followed them, leaving his poor company 
 to shift for themselves. 
 
JOHN SMITH. 175 
 
 West was equally imprudent at the falls, and 
 his settlement did not fare much better. It was 
 made upon a point of land which was frequently 
 inundated by the river. Smith, feeling much 
 anxiety about this settlement, had taken a leisure 
 moment to visit it. On his way he met Mr. West 
 returning: to Jamestown to seek his advice. 
 Learning the state of things, he at once pur- 
 chased of Powhatan the place on the river 
 called by his name, and w^ent up to remove the 
 settlement there. The men at the falls proving 
 insolent and resisting his authority, he (with the 
 five men who were with him) seized some of the 
 ringleaders and cast them into prison. But the 
 riot only increased — their numbers proved too 
 strong for him, and he was glad to escape in a 
 boat with his life. The Indians now came to 
 him complaining that these men at the falls 
 " were w^orse than the Monacans themselves" — 
 that they stole their corn, robbed their gardens, 
 beat them, and put them in prison ; but that 
 they w^ould endure these things no longer. They 
 had borne with them " out of love for him, but 
 hereafter they desired pardon if they defended 
 themselves." As he himself had been injured 
 by these men, they offered at once to fight for 
 him if he would lead them on. After spending 
 
176 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 nine clays in the neighborhood, hoping in vain 
 that these rioters would come to their senses, he 
 started for Jamestown. His barge had moved 
 off only about half a league, when she grounded. 
 This was a fortunate circumstance for the men 
 at the falls, for Smith had scarcely left them, 
 when twelve Indians, finding some of them strag- 
 gling in the woods, murdered them, and then 
 violently assaulted the settlement. The fright- 
 ened men (too cowardly to protect themselves) 
 now sent for Smith, offering to do as he desired 
 if he would come back. He immediately return- 
 ed, and after punishing six or seven as examples 
 to their companions, removed them all to Poav- 
 hatan. There w^as no reason in their not going 
 there before. Here they had dry houses and 
 lodgings, near tw^o hundred acres of land cleared 
 and ready for planting, besides a fort which had 
 formerly been erected by the savages. The 
 place, too, was strong by nature, having been 
 once selected as his home by the skilful eye of 
 Powhatan, and now they were so much pleased 
 wnth it, that they gave it the name of Nonesuch 
 Yet, before Smith had fairly settled them. 
 West, who w^as dissatisfied with this movement, 
 began to make discord among them, and some 
 of them were soon again discontented. They be* 
 
JOHN SMITH. 177 
 
 gan to complain, and as Smith had no disposition 
 to quarrel with West, and no means of stopping 
 their insolence, he at once started for Jamestown, 
 leaving them to do as they pleased. In a little 
 time, under the persuasions of West, they de- 
 serted this place with all its advantages and went 
 back to the falls. 
 
 Passing down the river. Smith met with a very 
 serious accident. Being asleep in the boat, a 
 bag of powder exploded near him, tearing his 
 flesh and burning him dreadfully. To quench 
 the fire (his clothes were all in a blaze) he leap- 
 ed into the water, and with great difficulty was 
 rescued by his men from drowning. In " this 
 piteous state" he arrived at Jamestown. RatcliiFe 
 and Archer with the other prisoners w^ere soon 
 now to be brought to trial. Dreading the result, 
 (for they knew their guilt,) they basely conspired 
 to take advantage of his condition, and murder 
 him in his bed. But the wretch who was en- 
 gaged to despatch him, was not equal to this 
 deed of cruelty. His heart failed him, even with 
 the pistol in his hand. Disappointed in this, 
 these villains then endeavored to usurp the go- 
 vernment, thereby to escape their punishment. 
 The old soldiers of the captain w^ere now enrag- 
 ed almost to desperation. Flocking around him, 
 
178 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 they declared that if he would only say the word, 
 they would fetch him the heads of the boldest 
 villains thus trying to injure him. But he, de- 
 sirous of having no farther disturbance in the 
 colony, persuaded them to be quiet. Suffering 
 from his wounds, and sick at heart, he resolv- 
 ed to return to England. His old friends 
 crowded around him, entreating him to stay, even 
 w'ith tears in their eyes ; but he could not be 
 persuaded. He fancied that he should never re- 
 cover except in England, and he mourned " to 
 see his authority suppressed, he knew not why ; 
 himself and his soldiers to be rewarded for their 
 past labors and dangers, he knew not how; and 
 a new commission granted to, he knew not 
 whom." Moreover, he thought himself useless 
 in his present condition, and this was reason 
 enough with him for his departure. It was ear- 
 ly in the autumn of 1609, that he was carried 
 aboard ship, and departed from Virginia never 
 again to see it. 
 
 In spite of all difficulties, the colony was in a 
 tolerably prosperous condition. He left behind 
 him near five hundred colonists, one hundred of 
 whom were well trained soldiers of his own, 
 three ships, seven boats, twenty-four pieces of 
 ordnance, three hundred muskets, with other 
 
JOHN SMITH. 179 
 
 arras and ammunition for the men, nets for fish- ^ 
 ing, tools for working, a good supply of clothing, 
 large stores of provisions, and an abundant stock 
 of domestic animals. 
 
 It may serve to shew the littleness of some 
 enemies left behind, when we are told that, " at 
 one time the ships were delayed from sailing 
 for three weeks, that complaints might be looked 
 up against him and sent to England ;" and the 
 real excellence of his character is well seen, 
 when it is known how, in less than six months 
 after his departure, friends and enemies sighed 
 for his presence in Virginia. When the famine, 
 known as " the starving time," swept over the 
 colony, and after eating roots, the skins of their 
 horses, and at last the dead bodies of their com- 
 panions, the five hundred left by the captain w^as 
 reduced to the little band of sixty, men, women, 
 and children ; at that time they knew how to 
 value him. It was then that they sighed for 
 their old leader and fellow-sufferer in every diffi- 
 culty. Captain Smith. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Smith s first voyage to J^ew England in 1614 — 
 Treachery of Captain Hunt — Smith makes a 
 m.ap of the coast, and upon his return presents 
 it to Prince Charles — Sails a second time for 
 JSTew England — Is taken by French pirates 
 and carried a prisoner to Rochelle — Makes his 
 escape during a storm — jSt length arrives in 
 his 0W71 country — Publishes his description of 
 JSTew England — Goes through the western part 
 of England distributing copies of his book — 
 Circumstances which brought the Princess 
 Pocahontas to England in 1616 — She meets 
 with Smith — Touching interview — Embassy of 
 Vttamaiomakkin — Pocahontas dies in Eng- 
 land, leaving an infant son — Kews of Ope- 
 chancanougW s massacre at Jamestown in 1622 
 — Smith proposes to revenge the death of his 
 countrymen — In 1623, appears before King 
 Jameses commission for reforming abuses in 
 Virginia — In 1631, dies at London, in the 
 fifty-second year of his age. 
 
 Five years now pass away before we hear 
 again of Captain Smith and of course I can tell 
 
JOHN SMITH. 181 
 
 you nothing of his employments during that time. 
 At length, in the year 1614, we find him busy 
 in London, making arrangements with some 
 merchants there for an expedition to New Eng- 
 land. Attempts had before this been made to 
 plant colonies in that region, but they had failed, 
 and greatly discouraged the people of England ; 
 but Smith's energy now roused these merchants 
 to a new adventure. Two ships were made 
 ready, and to save the expenses of the voyage, 
 he was to employ himself and crew in searching 
 for mines and capturing whales. If he failed 
 in these two purposes, he w^as to bring home a 
 cargo of such fish and furs as he could procure. 
 In tlie month of March the ships departed — 
 one commanded by Smith, the other by Captain 
 Thomas Hunt. They arrived, on the last day of 
 April, at the Island of Monahigon, off the coast 
 of Maine. Here, after building seven boats, 
 some went inland to look for the mines, while 
 others set to work to capture the whales. They 
 were busy in these efforts without success for two 
 months,when Smith, thinking it was idle to waste 
 any farther time, set them to taking and curing 
 cod fish, of which there was an abundance on the 
 coast. While they were thus employed, taking 
 with him eight men in a small boat, he ranged 
 16 
 
182 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 the coast from Penobscot to Cape Cod, gathering 
 furs from the Indians. During this time, as usual, 
 he observed everything closely, gave names to 
 many of the places that he passed, and made a 
 map of the whole coast. The month of August 
 having now arrived, and his ship being laden, 
 he sailed for England, leaving Hunt behind him, 
 (whose ship was not yet laden,) with directions 
 to complete his cargo of fish as rapidly as he 
 could, and sail for Spain, where he would find a 
 good market. 
 
 This Hunt proved to be an unprincipled man. 
 Smith had scarcely left, when he managed to 
 get twenty-four Indians on board his ship, 
 seized them, and sailing directly to Malaga 
 in Spain, sold them as slaves. It is said 
 that this act of wickedness w^as prompted by 
 the desire to make the savages on the coast, 
 enemies to his countrymen ; hoping thereby to 
 prevent the planting of a colony, that his own 
 private gains might be the greater. Be this as 
 it may, certain it is that he succeeded in making 
 them enemies; for long after this, the w^hites 
 were made to suflfer for his iniquity. 
 
 Upon his return to England, Smith put in at 
 the port of Plymouth. Here he commenced 
 telhng of his adventures, and meeting with Sir 
 
JOHN SMITH. 183 
 
 Ferdinando Gorges, was at once introduced by 
 him to the Plymouth Company of Adventurers. 
 This was the company making efforts (as you 
 will remember) to settle New England or North 
 Virginia, as it was then called, and they imme- 
 diately engaged his services. Passing over to 
 London now, he found the London Company 
 (which he had formerly served) anxious to em- 
 ploy him, but could not meet their wishes, ow- 
 ing to his engagement at Plymouth. Their 
 wish, however, serves to shew how much the 
 man was valued, after all the complaints and 
 murmurs that had been made against him. 
 
 While in London, he presented to Prince 
 Charles (afterwards King Charles the First) his 
 map of the new region — with a request (as some 
 say) that he would give a name to the country 
 — and the king called it New England. Others 
 assert that Smith gave it this name himself. It is 
 certain, however, that the prince altered various 
 names upon the map. Cape Tragabigzanda (call- 
 ed by Smith after his Turkish mistress) was chang- 
 ed to Cape Ann, and the islands near the cape, 
 which Smhh called the" Turks' Heads," in honor 
 of his victory over the three Turks, lost also 
 their name. Cape Cod was called by the prince 
 Cape James, in honor of his father, though we 
 
1S4 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 still retain the first name — and thus the cod-fish 
 on the coast have succeeded better than a prince 
 in giving a name to that point. What are now 
 known, too, as the Isles of Shoals, were upon 
 Smith's map marked as " Smith's Isles." I do not 
 know, however, that we are indebted to the 
 prince for this last change. 
 
 It was in the month of January, 1615, when 
 Smith left London to keep his engagement W'ith 
 the Plymouth Company. They had promised 
 to provide him with four ships for an adventure ; 
 but upon his arrival, he was greatly disappointed 
 to find they were not ready. The truth is, the 
 company was again discouraged. In June (it 
 seems) a ship had sailed for New England, and 
 owing to the wickedness of Hunt, had met with 
 a very unkind reception upon the coast, from 
 the savages. She had now^ returned, and the 
 crew of course had &dd stories to tell of their 
 trials. Smith was determined that his enter- 
 prise should not fail. By the help of Sir Fer- 
 dinando Gorges and other friends, after an en- 
 ergetic and untiring struggle, he managed to 
 have two ships equipped and ready for his 
 voyage. The one (of one hundred tons) was to 
 be commanded by himself: the other (of fifty 
 tons) was to be commanded by Captain Thomas 
 
JOHN SMITH. 185 
 
 Dermer. Sixteen emigrants were to embark foi 
 the purpose of making a permanent settlement. 
 
 In the month of March they set sail. The 
 ships kept together for about one hundred and 
 twenty leagues, when a storm separated them. 
 Dermer pursued his voyage, but Smith, after 
 losing both his masts, was forced to put back 
 under a jury-mast to Plymouth. He was de- 
 tained some little time in making new arrange- 
 ments. Having at length put his stores on board 
 a small bark of sixty tons, manned by thirty men, 
 he again set sail. 
 
 His voyage now was only a voyage of mis- 
 fortunes. In a little time he fell in with an 
 English pirate. His frightened crew begged 
 that he would surrender ; but this he refused to 
 do, though he carried but four guns, and the 
 pirate thirty-six. There was no fight, however, 
 for upon hailing her. Smith found that the cap- 
 tain and some of the crew were his old friends 
 and comrades; that they had run away with the 
 ship from Tunis, and were now in great want of 
 provisions. In their distress they begged to put 
 themselves under his command, but this Smith 
 refused, and kept on his voyage. Ere long, he 
 came in sight of two French pirates. His cow- 
 ardly crew again begged that he would at once 
 16* 
 
186 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 surrender. Smith was now angry. He threat- 
 ened to blow up the ship sooner than do this. 
 The pirates chased him, but keeping up a brisk 
 running fight, he made his escape. Soon after 
 he met four French men-of-war, that were out 
 upon a cruise, having orders from the French 
 king to seize any pirates they might find. Smith 
 went aboard one of the ships and shewed his 
 commission, to prove that he was no pirate. But 
 the French commander was unwilfing to believe 
 him. The truth was, that the French had set- 
 tlements in North America, and were jealous of 
 all efforts of the English toward the same pur- 
 pose. Smith's ship w^as therefore plundered, 
 manned with Frenchmen, and his crew taken 
 aboard the French ships. Strangely enough, 
 however, in a little time they delivered his vessel 
 to him, and he prepared to continue his voyage 
 for New England, amid the loud murmurs of his 
 men, who now begged that they might return to 
 Plymouth. The poor cowards had been so often 
 frightened, that they were unwilling to be longer 
 at sea. Smith refused to hearken to their com- 
 plaints, yet they managed to carry out their wish. 
 I will tell you how it was brought about. 
 
 The admiral of the French fleet pretended 
 (before the ships parted) that he was desirous of 
 
JOHN SMITH. 
 
 1S7 
 
 seeing Smith, and sent for him to come on board 
 his ship. The captain accepted the invitation 
 and went. Whether Smith's own crew had 
 engaged the admiral in a stratagem, or whether 
 it was a natural accident, it so happened that 
 while he was aboard, a strange sail was seen 
 and the admiral gave chase. Thus Smith was 
 separated from his men : the next night, they 
 turned the ship's head homeward, and after some 
 difficulty reached Plymouth. Some have said 
 that these Frenchmen, knowing the character of 
 Smith, and that he was the very life and soul 
 of the Enghsh colonies in the new world, were 
 especially jealous of him, and therefore thus 
 kidnapped him. 
 
 The admiral's ship (separated from the rest) 
 kept on her way, and Smith found that he was 
 in the midst of a lawless set of fellows. The 
 Frenchmen now pretended to keep him as a 
 prisoner, declaring that he was the man who 
 had broken up the French settlements at Port 
 Royal the year before, (which thing in fact had 
 een done by Captain Argall.) The ship had 
 a prosperous cruise, so far as plunder was con- 
 cerned. Sometimes she would meet and plunder 
 English ships, upon which occasions Smith was 
 always kept below 5 but when the ships of other 
 
188 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 nations were encountered, he was always made 
 to do his part of the fighting. At length, the 
 cruise being over, she sailed for the port of 
 Rochelle. The Frenchmen seem to have been 
 conscious that they were guilty men for thus 
 treating him, for before reaching port they pro- 
 mised to repay him for all his sufferings and 
 losses, by giving him his part of the plunder. 
 Having arrived in port, however, they broke 
 their promise and kept him as a prisoner in the 
 ship in the harbor. Here they tried to force from 
 him a written discharge of all demands against 
 them. This he refused to give, and a kind Pro- 
 vidence soon released him from his captivity. 
 A sudden storm arose, and drove the crew of the 
 ship below. Smith waited until night came on, 
 and then taking the boat, with a half pike which 
 served as an oar, pushed off for the shore. The 
 current being strong, his little boat drifted to sea, 
 and for twelve hours he was tossed about upon 
 the ocean, expecting every moment to perish. 
 Fortunately, *' the turn of the tide" at length 
 threw him upon a low marshy island, where he 
 was found in the morning by some fowlers, al- 
 most dead from cold and huno^er. He agreed 
 to give them his boat if they would take him to 
 Rochelle. Upon his arrival there he learned 
 
JOHN SMITH. 1S9 
 
 that the effects of the storm had been tremen- 
 dous. The ship in ^vhich he had been confined, 
 with one of her prizes, had been wrecked upon 
 the shore, and the captain with half the crew 
 had perished. 
 
 He now made complaint to the judge of the 
 admiralty of the cruel treatment he had received, 
 and brought forward many of the sailors to prove 
 the truth of his statements. It seems he found 
 no remedy ; but the judge, having some idea of 
 justice, gave him a certificate, stating that he 
 believed his story to be true. In his misfortune, 
 he met with many friends at Rochelle, and after- 
 wards at Bourdeaux, upon presenting the letter 
 of the judge to the English ambassador, found 
 many more. After some hardships, he once 
 more returned to England. 
 
 It seems he had not been idle while he was 
 a captive on board the French ship. During 
 this time he had written an account of his two 
 last voyages, with descriptions of the country of 
 New England, " with its many advantages, and 
 the proper methods of rendering it a valuable 
 acquisition to the English dominions." Return- 
 ing home, he published this, together with his 
 map of New England, and in his ardent de- 
 sire to rouse the energies of his countrymen to- 
 
190 JOHN s^nxH. 
 
 wards colonizing that country, wandered over 
 all the western parts of England, giving away 
 copies of his book. In this way (it is said) he 
 distributed seven thousand copies. He found the 
 people greatly discouraged by the different fail- 
 ures that had occurred already, though some of 
 them " made many fair promises" about a new 
 effort. The Plymouth Company, as some reward 
 for his services, now honored him with the title 
 of Admiral of New England. 
 
 In the spring of the next year," (16 16,) to his 
 great surprise and joy, he met with his former 
 friend, the princess Pocahontas. As everything 
 connected with this noble-hearted woman has 
 an interest for my countrymen, I must tell you 
 the circumstances which brought about the 
 meeting. 
 
 After Smith left Virginia, the friendship of 
 Pocahontas for the whites still continued. It 
 w^as .not so with her father Powhatan. From 
 tim'e to time, he w^as busy in stratagems against 
 them. In 1610, the friendship and animosity of 
 both parties were well proved, when Powhatan 
 cut off Ratcliffe and a party of thirty men, while 
 Pocahontas managed to save a boy named Henry 
 Spilman. From some cause or other, (possibly 
 the cruelty of Powhatan towards the whites,) 
 
JOHN SMITH. 191 
 
 Pocahontas at length left her father's house, and 
 made her home among the Potomacs. In one 
 of his trading voyages in 1612, Captain Argall 
 learned from the chief of the Potomacs that 
 she Avas there, and determined to make her a 
 prisoner. He thought that if he could get pos- 
 session of the daughter, Powhatan, in his love 
 for her and his desire to release her, would make 
 peace on any terms. Accordingly he bribed the 
 old chief ( Japazaws) with the promise of a cop- 
 per kettle, to aid him in carrying out his plan. 
 
 The design was to get the princess on board 
 Argall's ship, and a curious stratagem was re- 
 sorted to. Old Japazaws and his wdfe made a 
 visit to Pocahontas, and the wife (as she had 
 been instructed to do) expressed a great desire 
 to visit " the Englishman's ship." The chief re- 
 fused to allow her to go, and threatened to beat 
 her for having such a wish. She (still act- 
 ing her part) began to weep and howl, and then 
 the old hypocrite Japazaws, pretending to re- 
 lent, consented that she might go if Pocahontas 
 would accompany her. The amiable princess 
 at once assented, and they went on board. 
 The captain received them very kindly, and en- 
 tertained them in the cabin, where the old chief 
 kept from time to time, treading on his toe to 
 
192 JOHN S:\I1TH. 
 
 reininf] h:r£i the.t he had done his part. After 
 this Pocahontas " was decoyed into the gun 
 room" for a time; that Japazaws might receive 
 his reward without her knowing anything of his 
 treachery. The kettle and many toys being 
 given to him and his wife, Pocahontas at length 
 was called by the captain, and told she was 
 a prisoner — that she should not be harmed in 
 any way, but was to be the means of peace be- 
 tween her father and the English. The princess 
 was greatly overcome, and wept bitterly, while 
 the old hypocrites Japazaws and his wife set up 
 a most hideous howling. She was at- length 
 pacified and consented to go to Jamestown, 
 (where it seems she had not been since Smith 
 left the country,) and the old chief and his wife 
 were sent ashore, greatly pleased, yet bitterly 
 waihng. 
 
 Upon the arrival of the ship at Jamestown, a 
 message was immediately sent to Powhatan, 
 telling him of the captivity of his daughter, and 
 offering to deliver her up to him if he would sur- 
 render all the prisoners whom he had taken, and 
 all the guns and tools of the English that he had 
 stolen. The news made the old man very sad, 
 for he loved his daughter, and he liked the guns. 
 He seems not to have known what to do, and 
 
JOHN SMITH. 
 
 193 
 
 consequently, for three months, returned no an- 
 swer. At the end of this time, he sent back 
 seven English prisoners, each bringing a worn 
 out musket, with a message that " when they 
 should deliver his daughter, he M^ould make full 
 satisfaction for all injuries, gh-e them four hun- 
 dred bushels of corn, and be their friend for ever." 
 The English answ-ered " that Lis daughter should 
 be well used ; but as they could not believe that 
 the rest of their arms were either lost or stolen 
 from him, they would keep her till he had sent 
 them all back." This vexed him so much that 
 for a long time they heard no more from him. 
 At length Sir Thomas Dale, taking with him 
 Pocahontas, and one hundred and fifty men, 
 sailed up the river in one of the ships to Wero- 
 wocomoco. Upon his arrival, Powhatan would 
 not see him. Dale spoke, however, to some of 
 his men, telling them that he had come for the 
 purpose of delivering up the king's daughter if 
 he would surrender the men and arms belonging 
 to the colony. The savages received this only 
 -with threats, telling him if he and his men came 
 io fight they were welcome. Then, with cool 
 impudence, they advised him to be off if he valued 
 the lives of his men, otherwise they would all 
 meet with the fate of Ratcliffe's party. This 
 17 
 
194 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 was more than could well be borne. The whites 
 at once commenced burning their houses, and 
 destroying everything they could find, until at 
 length, after an idle resistance, the savages seem- 
 ed disposed to come to terms. They said that 
 their prisoners had run away, fearing that they 
 would be hanged, but that some of Powhatan's 
 men had gone to bring them back. This was 
 only a stratagem to gain time, which Dale very 
 well understood, and' therefore told them that 
 he would remain quiet until the next day at 
 noon, when, if they were not ready to meet his 
 demands, and were willing to fight, they might 
 know when to begin by the sound of his drums 
 and trumpets. In other words, a truce was 
 agreed upon until noon of the next day. In the 
 mean time two brothers of Pocahontas came on 
 board the ship to see her, and were greatly pleas- 
 ed to find her (contrary to their expectations) 
 well and happy. They now promised to use 
 their efforts to persuade their father to ransom 
 her, and to be for ever friends to the English. 
 At the same time, Mr. John Rolfe and Mr. Sparks 
 had been sent ashore to Powhatan, to inform 
 him (if he could be found) of the business upon 
 which they had come. But the old chief would 
 not admit them to his presence. They could only 
 
JOHN SMITH. 195 
 
 speak with Opechancanough, (his brother,) who 
 promised to do his utmost with Powhatan, " to 
 indine him to peace and friendship with the 
 colony." The truce ended, and nothing was 
 done ; yet the whites were disposed to do nothing 
 more at present, (owing, perhaps, to the fair 
 promises of the kinsmen of Powhatan.) Another 
 reason prompting them to w^aste no more time 
 in the matter w^as, the desire to oe at home to 
 plant their lands ; so the Avhole party returned 
 to Jamestown, 
 
 In a little time, Pow^iatan became a warm 
 friend to the w^hites, but it w^as hardly owing to 
 the efforts of Opechancanough or his sons. It 
 seems that Mr. Rolfe had formed an attachment 
 for Pocahontas, while she had returned his love 
 as warmly, and had spoken to one of her brothers 
 of her feelings. When Powhatan heard of this 
 he was greatly pleased, and instantly consented 
 to their marriage. Within ten days he sent his 
 brother Opachisco and two of his sons to attend 
 the w^edding, acting as his deputies in all that 
 might be necessary. The parties w^ere duly 
 married in April, 16 13, and ever after this, there 
 was a strong and lasting friendship between 
 Powhatan and the colony. 
 
 It was in the spring of 1616, that she arrived 
 
196 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 in England with her husband. She was then 
 about twenty -two years of age, and is said to 
 have been " very graceful, and her manners gen- 
 tle and pleasing." Living at Jamestown, she 
 had learned to speak the English language, and 
 embracing the Christian religion, had been bap- 
 tized by the name of Rebecca.* She had heard 
 in some way that her old friend Captain Smith 
 was dead, and did not learn that he was living 
 until she arrived in England. 
 
 As soon as Smith heard of her arrival, he sent 
 a letter to the queen, setting forth the character 
 of Pocahontas, and her great kindness to himself 
 and the colony in Virginia. This was done in 
 gratitude by the captain, but it was well nigh 
 useless, for her fame had reached England long 
 before this. She was introduced to the queen 
 by the Lady Delaware, and received with great 
 courtesy and kindness by all the royal family. 
 In a little time Smith came to see her, and the 
 
 * The author was ignorant of the real name of Pocahontas, 
 until he accidentally discovered in Stith's Virginia the follow- 
 ing: " Her real name, it seems, was originally Matoax, which 
 the Indians carefully concealed from the English, and chang- 
 ed it to Pocahontas, out of a superstitious fear, lest they, by 
 the knowledge of her true name, should be enabled to do hei 
 some hurt. She was the first Christian Indian in »hese parts 
 and perhaps the sincerest and most worthy that has eve- 
 been since." — Stith's Virginia, page 136. 
 
JOHN SMITH. 197 
 
 interview between them was very touching At 
 the first sight of him, after a modest salutation, 
 she turned away, hid her face, and for two hours 
 did not utter a v/ord. After this she spoke to 
 him, and called him father, and because Smith 
 did not at once salute her as his child, she hid 
 her face again and wept bitterly. She did not 
 remember that she was the daughter of a king, 
 and now in a land where kings were honored, 
 and that Smith, perhaps, felt some delicacy for 
 that reason in calling her his child. When re- 
 minded of this, (it is said,) " she despised such 
 affectation." She declared that she loved him 
 as a father, that she had treated him as a father 
 in her own country, and would be his child for 
 ever. Then looking upon him again, she cried, 
 *• They did tell us always you were dead, and I 
 knew no other till I came to Plymouth : yet 
 Powhatan did command Uttamatomakkin to seek 
 you and know the truth." 
 
 This savage (one of the trusty friends of Pow- 
 hatan) had been sent out by the chief for three 
 purposes — he was to learn if Smith was alive, 
 and if alive to see him — to see the Englishman's 
 God, and their king and queen — and to count the 
 people of England. Upon meeting Smith, he 
 desired, in his ignorance, to see his God. Then 
 17* 
 
198 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 he asked to see the king and queen. It seeins 
 he had seen the king, and Smith told him so, 
 promising that in due time he would shew him 
 the queen. The poor savage could hardly be 
 persuaded that he had seen the king, because 
 the person whom they called king had given 
 him nothing. Turning to Smith, he said, " You 
 gave Powhatan a white dog, but your king has 
 given me nothing, and I am better than your 
 white dog." As to numbering the people, he 
 had managed that in a curious way. Upon his 
 arrival at Plymouth, being unable to count the 
 multitudes, he procured a long stick, and made 
 a notch for every person Tiiat he met. It is said 
 that upon his return home, when Powhatan ask- 
 ed him how many people there w^ere in England, 
 his answer was, " Count the stars in the sky, the 
 leaves on the trees, and the sands upon the sea 
 shore : for such is the number of the people in 
 England." 
 
 It was the fate of the princess Pocahontas 
 never to return to Virginia. In the early part 
 of 1617, as she was preparing to embark with 
 her husband, she was at Gravesend suddenly 
 taken sick, and died leaving one son, her infant 
 boy, Thomas Rolfe. Her character proved good 
 
JOHN SMITH. 
 
 199 
 
 to the last, for we are told that " she died calm- 
 ly like a Christian."* 
 
 We hear no more of Captain Smith now, un- 
 til the year 1622, Avhen news reached England 
 of Opechancanoiigh's dreadful massacre of the 
 colonists at Jamestown. The tidings were sad 
 to all, but sadder to none than Smith. In his 
 indignation at this savage butchery of his coun- 
 trymen, he proposed at once to the company, that 
 if they would give him one hundred soldiers and 
 thirty sailors, with the necessary provisions and 
 arms, he would go to Virginia, "range the 
 country, keep the natives in awe, and protect 
 the planters." The company was divided. Some 
 were for hearkening to, others for opposing his 
 project. At length, after consultation, they gave 
 him this pitiful answer: " that the charges would 
 be too great; that their stock was reduced; that 
 the planters oup-ht to defend themselves ; but 
 that if he v ^.u go at his own expense, they 
 would give him leave, provided he would give 
 them one half of the pillage.'' He rejected their 
 proposal with scorn. 
 
 * Her son, Thomas Rolfe, after being for some time intrust- 
 ed to his uncle in London, at length came to Virginia, and 
 became somewhat distinguished. He married and left an only- 
 daughter, and now some of the most reputable families in Vir. 
 ginia are her descendants, and, through her, the descendants 
 01 ner grand-mother, the princess Pocahontas. 
 
200 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 The sad state of affairs in Virfrinia at lenorth 
 induced King James (in 1623) to issue a com- 
 mission, appointing certain persons to examine 
 into the causes of the difficulties, and report a 
 plan for the better management of the colony. 
 'This commission, aware of the knowledge of 
 Smith, was wise enough to send for him. He 
 told them all that he knew of the colony, and 
 gave them his advice as to the best way of 
 proceeding to remedy matters, and make the 
 colony happy and profitable. 
 
 For some years now his life 'was more quiet. 
 He busied himself from time to time in writing 
 accounts of his travels, and struggling to call up 
 in his countrymen a spirit for colonizing America. 
 It w^as not his privilege, however, to see the 
 country for which he had struggled, and where 
 he had endured so many hardships, all that he 
 desired. He only in a measure foresaw, what 
 the American plantations might become under 
 proper management. Could he now look upon 
 this beautiful land of ours, and see what his little 
 colony has grown to, how would he be startled 
 to find the richest calculations of his bold spirit 
 more than realized ? 
 
 I have no more to say, except that this won- 
 derful man died at London in the year 1631, in 
 
JOHN SMITH. . 201 
 
 the fifty-second year of his age, and to add his 
 own melancholy story after all his struggles. 
 "I have" (says he) " spent five years and more 
 than five hundred pounds in the service of Vir- 
 ginia and New England, and in neither of them 
 have I one foot of land, nor the very house I 
 built, nor the ground I digged with my own 
 hands ; but I see those countries shared before 
 me, by those who know them only by my de- 
 scriptions." 
 
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