When the sealed box was opened, the appointed council was found to be Bartholomew Gosnold, Edward Maria Wingfield, Christopher Newport, John Ratcliffe, John Martin, George Kendall, and their prisoner John Smith. These were to elect their own President for one year. Later they elected Wingfield.[12] He and the Council were invested with the government; affairs of moment were to be examined by a jury, but determined by the Council. The first presidential election in the United States of America was held April 26, 1607.
Seventeen days were spent in quest of a place of settlement, sailing up and down the river, on the banks of which the Indians were clustered like swarming bees. Sundry adventures of small moment introduced them rather favourably to the Indians, who seemed, Percy thought, "as goodly men" as any he had "ever seen of savages, their prince bearing himself in a proud, modest fashion with great majesty." What they thought of the English had already been expressed in an unequivocal manner. They, however, offered no further violence.
Memorial erected by Clergy of the Episcopal Church at Jamestown Island.
Copyright, 1906, by Jamestown Official Photo. Corp'n.
According to instructions in their locked box, the colonists were admonished not to settle too near the bay because of the Spaniards, nor away from the highway—the river—because of the Indians. At last they found a peninsula which impressed them favourably. It was on the north side of the river Powhatan, as James River was called by the savages, and fifty-eight above the Virginia capes.[13] The peninsula, now an island, was small, only two and three-fourths miles long and one-fourth of a mile wide. It was connected with the mainland by a little isthmus, apparent only at low tide; and this was the spot selected for the settlement which was named, in honour of the King, Jamestown.
They could hardly have made a worse selection. The situation was extremely unhealthful, being low and exposed to the malaria of extensive marshes covered with water at high tide. The settlers landed, probably in the evening because of the tide, on the 13th of May, 1607.[14] This was the first permanent settlement effected by the English in North America, after a lapse of one hundred and ten years from the discovery of the continent by the Cabots, and twenty-two years after the attempt to colonize it under the auspices of Sir Walter Raleigh. Upon landing, the Council took the oath of office; Edward Maria Wingfield, as we have seen, was elected President, and Thomas Studley, Cape-Merchant or Treasurer. Smith was excluded from the Council upon some false pretences. Dean Swift says, "When a great genius appears in the world, the dunces are all in confederacy against him."
One reason for the selection of the low peninsula was the fact that the water was deep enough near the banks of the river for the ships to be moored close to the land and tethered to the trees, thus facilitating the transportation of the cargo. These trees presented a novel appearance to the Englishmen. The Indians had stripped them of their lower branches as high as a man could reach, for they had no axes to aid them in collecting fuel. All the tangled undergrowth had been cleared away and burned. A horseman could safely ride through them. The grove was like a great cathedral with many columns, its floor tiled with moss and sprinkled with flowers. We may be sure that good Master Hunt gathered his flock around him without delay, and standing in their midst under the trees uttered, for the first time in the western world, the solemn invocation:
"The Lord is in His Holy Temple;
Let all the earth keep silence before Him."
The new land had been claimed for an earthly potentate; he now claimed it for the King of kings. Immediately "all hands fell to work." Every article, every utensil, was removed from the ships, which were to be no longer the homes of the colonists. The stores were brought on land and covered with old sails; a hasty barricade was thrown up for defence against the savages; tents were set up; but we are told that the soft May air was so delicious, the men elected to lie upon the warm earth; and there, having set their watch to "ward all the night," with nothing but the whispering leaves between them and the stars, they slept the sweet sleep of weariness of body and contentment of soul.
CHAPTER VI
When the colonists looked around them on the first day in their new home, they beheld a scene which will never again in the history of this world be spread before the eyes of man.
Before them lay a vast land just as God made it. No furrow had followed the plough or wheel of civilization. The earth had been pressed by nothing sterner than the light hoof of the reindeer or the moccasined foot of the Indian. No seed had ever drifted hither on the winds, or been brought by a bird wanderer from a distant country. The land was bounded by vast, untravelled seas. The earth had been stirred in cultivation only by the hands of women and children, unaided by any implement of steel or iron. In the forests and fields the great mystery of birth and death and birth again had silently gone on unmarked for countless ages. There was literally no known past, no record of a yesterday which might explain the problems of to-day.
Of course the English colonist would be keenly curious as to the fauna and flora of the new land. There were "such faire meadowes and goodly tall trees," says Percy,[15] "with such Fresh-waters running through the woods, as I was almost ravished at the first sight thereof. My selfe and three or foure more walking into the Woods, by chance we espied a path-way like to an Irish pace. We were desirous to knowe whither it would bring us. Wee traced along some foure miles, all the way as wee went having the pleasantest Suckles, the ground all bespred and flowing over with faire flowers of sundry colours and kindes as though it had been any Garden or Orchard in England."
Mute witnesses to the truth of Percy's picture will be found at the opening of our coming celebration, if our guests can find a convenient forest. In it will be seen just the flowers that so ravished his soul: the white honeysuckles, the scarlet trumpet creeper, the clematis, white and purple tipped, the sweetbrier, violets, swamp roses, red swamp lilies.
"There be many Strawberries," continues Percy, "and other fruites unknowne. Wee saw the Woods full of Cedar and Cypresse Trees with other trees (out of) which issues our sweet Gummes like to Balsam, and so wee kept on our way in this Paradise." There were not many "fruits unknown." One of these, highly esteemed, was "maracocks"—the seed-pod of the passionflower,[16] which was not dismissed from the list of Virginia fruits until the middle of the last century. Until then it was cultivated in gardens for its fruit as well as its flowers. There was also another new fruit, still prized by the Virginia schoolboy, and still found by him to "draw a man's mouth awrie with much torment" if incautiously meddled with when green or yellow. Only when red is it ripe and "as delicious as an Apricocke." Need we say this is the Virginia persimmon—a corruption of the "putchamin" of the Indian? There were no peaches or apples, only two kinds of plums, grapes, and berries,—strawberries, mulberries, and whortleberries or "hurts." All other fruits were introduced by the English. There were no sheep, oxen, goats, or horses, no chickens or other domestic poultry. There were wild turkeys, none domesticated. The deer was king, but never used as a beast of burden. Bears, rabbits or hares, squirrels, the otter and the beaver; birds without number (their king the eagle)—these were indigenous to the new land, planted there when God made it, their flesh the food of man, their skins his garment.
And there, too, was man as God made him. To this day nothing is known of the origin of the North American Indian—whence he came, or what his early history. There he was—having evolved little for