ginia, the true leader who first planted the Saxon race within the borders of the United States. His judgment had been ever clear in the midst of general despondency. He united the highest spirit of adventure with consummate powers of action. His courage and self-possession accomplished what others esteemed desperate. Fruitful in expedients, he was prompt in execution. Though he had been harassed by the persecutions of malignant envy, he never revived the memory of the faults of his enemies. He was accustomed to lead, not to send, his men to danger; would suffer want rather than borrow, and starve sooner than not pay. He had nothing counterfeit in his nature; but was open, honest, and sincere. He clearly discerned that it was the true interest of England not to seek in Virginia for gold and sudden wealth, but to enforce regular industry. 'Nothing,' said he. 'is to be expected thence but by labor.'"[1]
This illustrious man never revisited Virginia, although he was several times in New England in the service of the Plymouth Company. His death occurred in 1631, at London, in the fifty-second year of his age. Mr. Hillard, in his well-written biography of Captain Smith, thus sums up the obligations which America owes to him:—"The debt of gratitude due to him is national and American, and so should his glory be. Wherever upon this continent the English language is spoken, his deeds should be recounted, and his memory hallowed. His services should not only be not forgotten, but should be freshly remembered. His name should not only be honored by the silent canvass, and the cold marble, but his praises should dwell living upon the lips of men, and should be handed down by fathers to their children. Poetry has imagined nothing more stirring and romantic than his life and adventures, and history, upon her ample page, has recorded few more honorable and spotless names."[2]
On the departure of Smith the colony speedily plunged into misery and wretchedness. Their supply of provisions soon failed; the Indians refused further aid, and murdered numbers; in less than six months a horrible famine, remembered long after in Virginia, as the "starving time," brought the colony to the last point; out of five hundred persons left by Smith in the colony, only sixty remained; and indolence, vice, and famine had so reduced these, that had relief been delayed ten days longer they also must have perished.
But succor arrived in season to prevent so sad a catastrophe. Gates and Somers, who had been shipwrecked on the Bermudas, but without losing a single life, had fortunately succeeded in preserving their provisions and stores; and while the colonists of Virginia had suffered the pinchings of want, the spontaneous bounties of nature had richly supported them for many months. Anxious to rejoin their companions, they constructed two crazy
