by James Otis
A TIME OF SICKNESS AND DEATH
The first who went out from among us, was John Asbie, on the sixth ofAugust. Three days later George Flowers followed him. On the tenth ofthe same month William Bruster, one of the gentlemen, died of a woundgiven by the savages while he was searching for gold, and two otherslaid down their lives within the next eight and forty hours.
Then the deaths came rapidly, gentlemen as well as serving men orlaborers, until near eighty of our company were either in the grave, orunable to move out of such shelters as served as houses.
A great fear came upon all, save that my master held his head as highas ever, and went here and there with Master Hunt to do what he mighttoward soothing the sick and comforting the dying.
It was on the twentieth day of August when Captain Bartholomew Gosnold,one of the Council, died, and then Master Wingfield forgot all else savehis own safety. More than one in our village declared that he was makingready the pinnace that he might run away from us, as if the Angel ofDeath could be escaped from by flight.
It was starvation brought about by sheer neglect, together with lyingupon the bare ground and drinking of the river water, which by this timewas very muddy, that had brought us to such a pass.
Save for the king, Powhatan, and some few of the other savages inauthority, we must all have died; but when there were only five in allour company able to stand without aid, God touched the hearts of theseIndians. They, who had lately been trying to kill us, suddenly cameto do what they might toward saving our lives after a full half of thecompany were in the grave.
They brought food such as was needed to nourish us, and within a shorttime the greater number of us who were left alive, could go about, butonly with difficulty. It was a time of terror, of suffering, and ofclose acquaintance with death such as I cannot set down in words, foreven at this late day the thought of what we then endured chills myheart.
When we had been restored to health and strength, and were no longerhungry, thanks to those who had been our bitter enemies, the chief menof the village began to realize that my master had not only given goodadvice on all occasions, but stood among them bravely when the Presidentof the Council was making preparations to run away.
CAPTAIN SMITH GAINS AUTHORITY
There was but little idle talk made by the members of the Council indeciding that Master Wingfield should be deprived of his office, andMaster Ratcliffe set in his place. Captain Smith was called upon to takehis proper position in the government, and, what was more, to him theygave the direction of all matters outside the town, which was much thesame as putting him in authority over even the President himself.
It was greatly to my pleasure that Captain Smith lost no time inexercising the power which had been given him. Nor was he at all gentlein dealing with those men who disdained to soil their hands by working,yet were willing to spend one day, and every day, searching for gold,without raising a finger toward adding to the general store, but at thesame time claiming the right to have so much of food as would not onlysatisfy their hunger, but minister to their gluttony.
Nathaniel and I heard our master talking over the matter with thepreacher, on the night the Council had given him full charge ofeverything save the dealings which might be had later with the LondonCompany, therefore it was that we knew there would be different doingson the morrow.
Greatly did we rejoice thereat, for Jamestown had become as slovenly andill kempt a village as ever the sun shone upon.
Now it must be set down that these gentlemen of ours, when not searchingfor gold, were wont to play at bowls in the lanes and paths, that theymight have amusement while the others were working, and woe betide theserving man or laborer, who by accident interfered with their sports.
On this day, after the conversation with Master Hunt, all was changed.Captain Smith began his duties as guardian and director of the villageby causing it to be proclaimed through the mouth of Nicholas Skot, ourdrummer, that there would be no more playing at bowls in the streetsof Jamestown while it was necessary that very much work should beperformed, and this spoken notice also stated, that whosoever dared todisobey the command should straightway be clapped into the stocks.
DISAGREEABLE MEASURES OF DISCIPLINE
Lest there should be any question as to whether my master intended tocarry out this threat or no, William Laxon, one of the carpenters, wasforthwith set to work building stocks in front of the tent where livedMaster Ratcliffe, the new President of the Council. Nor was this theonly change disagreeable to our gentlemen, which Captain Smith broughtabout. No sooner had Nicholas Skot proclaimed the order that whosoeverplayed at bowls should be set in the stocks, than he was commanded toturn about and announce with all the strength of his lungs, so thatevery one in the village might hear and understand, that those who wouldnot work should not have whatsoever to eat.
Verily this was a hard blow to the gentlemen of our company, who pridedthemselves upon never having done with their hands that which wasuseful. One would have thought my master had made this rule for his ownparticular pleasure, for straightway those of the gentlemen who couldleast hold their tempers in check, gathered in the tent which MasterWingfield had taken for his own, and there agreed among themselves thatif Captain Smith persisted in such brutal rule, they would overturn allthe authority in the town, and end by setting the Captain himself in thestocks which William Laxon was then making. It so chanced that MasterHunt overheard these threats at the time they were made, and, like atrue friend and good citizen, reported the same to Captain Smith.
Whereupon my master chose a certain number from among those of thegentlemen who had become convinced that sharp measures were necessary ifwe of Jamestown would live throughout the winter, commanding that theymake careful search of every tent, cave, hut or house in the village,taking therefrom all that was eatable, and storing it in the log housewhich had been put up for the common use.
Then he appointed Kellam Throgmorton, a gentleman who was well able tohold his own against any who might attempt to oppose him, to the officeof guardian of the food, giving strict orders that nothing whatsoeverwhich could be eaten, should be given to those who did not present goodproof of having done a full day's labor.
Of course the people who lay sick were excused from such order, andMaster Hunt was chosen to make up a list of those who must be fed, yetwho were not able to work by reason of illness.
SIGNS OF REBELLION
Now it can well be understood that such measures as these caused nolittle in the way of rebellion, and during the two hours Nicholas Skotcried the proclamation through the streets and lanes of the village,the gentlemen who had determined to resist Captain Smith were in a finestate of ferment.
It was as if a company of crazy men had been suddenly let loose amongus. Not content with plotting secretly against my master, they mustneeds swagger about, advising others to join them in their rebellion,and everywhere could be heard oaths and threats, in such language as waslike to cause honest men's hair to stand on end.
For a short time Nathaniel Peacock and I actually trembled with fear,believing the house of logs would be pulled down over our heads, for noless than a dozen of the so called gentlemen were raging and stormingoutside; but disturbing Captain Smith not one whit. He sat there,furbishing his matchlock as if having nothing better with which tooccupy the time; but, as can well be fancied, drinking in every word ofmutiny which was uttered.
Then, as if he would saunter out for a stroll, the captain left thehouse, which was much the same as inviting these disorderly ones toattack him; but they lacked the courage, for he went to the fort withoutbeing molested.
THE SECOND PROCLAMATION
It seemed to me as if no more than half an hour had passed beforeNicholas Skot was making another proclamation, and this time to theeffect that whosoever, after that moment, was heard uttering profanewords, should have a can full of cold water poured down his sleeve.
On hearing this, the unruly ones laughed in derision and straightwaybegan to shout for
th such a volley of oaths as I had never heard duringa drunken brawl in the streets of London.
It was not long, however, that they were thus allowed to shame decentpeople. Down from the fort came Captain Smith, with six stout men behindhim, and in a twinkling there was as hot a fight within twenty paces ofMaster Ratcliffe's tent, as could be well imagined.
And the result of it all was, much to the satisfaction of Nathanieland myself, that every one of these men who had amused themselves byuttering the vilest of oaths, had a full can of the coldest water thatcould be procured, poured down the sleeve of his doublet.
The method of doing it was comical, if one could forget how serious wasthe situation. Two of my master's followers would pounce upon the fellowwho was making the air blue with oaths, and, throwing him to the ground,hold him there firmly while the third raised his arm and carefullypoured the water down the sleeve.
Now you may fancy that this was not very harsh treatment; but Iafterward heard those who had been thus punished, say that they wouldchoose five or six stout lashes on their backs, rather than take againsuch a dose as was dealt out on that day after John Smith was madecaptain and commander, or whatsoever you choose to call his office, inthe village of Jamestown.
BUILDING A FORTIFIED VILLAGE
There is little need for me to say that these were not the only reformswhich my master brought about, after having waited long enough for ourlazy gentlemen to understand that unless they set their hands to laborthey could not eat from the general store.
He straightway set these idle ones to work building houses, declaringthat if the sickness which had come among us was to be checked, ourpeople must no longer sleep upon the ground, or in caves where themoisture gathered all around them.
He marked out places whereon log dwellings should be placed, in suchmanner that when the houses had been set up, they would form a square,and, as I heard him tell Master Hunt, it was his intention to have allthe buildings surrounded by a palisade in which should be many gates.
Thus, when all was finished, he would have a fort-like village, whereinthe people could rest without fear of what the savages might be able todo.
By the time such work was well under way, and our gentlemen laboring ashonest men should, after learning that it was necessary so to do unlessthey were willing to go hungry, Captain Smith set about adding to ourstore of food, for it was not to be supposed that we could depend forany length of time upon what the Indians might give us, and the winterwould be long.
TRAPPING TURKEYS
The wild turkeys had appeared in the forest in great numbers, but fewhad been killed by our people because of the savages, many of whom werenot to be trusted, even though the chiefs of three tribes professed tobe friendly. It was this fact which had prevented us from doing much inthe way of hunting.
Now that we were in such stress for food, and since all had turnedlaborers, whether willingly or no, much in the way of provisions wasneeded. Captain Smith set about taking the turkeys as he did about mostother matters, which is to say, that it was done in a thorough manner.
Instead of being forced to spend at least one charge of powder for eachfowl killed, he proposed that we trap them, and showed how it might bedone, according to his belief.
Four men were told off to do the work, and they were kept busy cuttingsaplings and trimming them down until there was nothing left save polesfrom fifteen to twenty feet long. Then, with these poles laid one abovethe other, a square pen was made, and at the top was a thatching ofbranches, so that no fowl larger than a pigeon might go through.
From one side of this trap, or turkey pen, was dug a ditch perhaps twofeet deep, and the same in width, running straightway into the thicketwhere the turkeys were in the custom of roosting, for a distance oftwenty feet or more. This ditch was carried underneath the side of thepen, where was an opening hardly more than large enough for one turkeyto pass through. Corn was scattered along the whole length of the ditch,and thus was the trap set.
The turkeys, on finding the trail of corn, would follow hurriedly along,like the gluttons they are, with the idea of coming upon a largerhoard, and thus pass through into the pen. Once inside they were trappedsecurely, for the wild turkey holds his head so high that he can neversee the way out through a hole which is at a level with his feet.
It was a most ingenious contrivance, and on the first morning after ithad been set at night, we had fifty plump fellows securely caged, whenit was only necessary to enter the trap by crawling through the top, andkill them at our leisure.
It may be asked how we made shift to cook such a thing as a turkey,other than by boiling it in a kettle, and this can be told in very fewwords, for it was a simple matter after once you had become accustomedto it.
A CRUDE KIND OF CHIMNEY
First you must know, however, that when our houses of logs had beenbuilt, we had nothing with which to make a chimney such as one finds inLondon. We had no bricks, and although, mayhap, flat rocks might havebeen found enough for two or three, there was no mortar in the wholeland of Virginia with which to fasten them together.
Therefore it was we were forced to build a chimney of logs, laying it upon the outside much as we had the house, but plentifully besmearing itwith mud on the inside, and chinking the crevices with moss and clay.
When this had been done, a hole was cut for the smoke, directly throughthe side of the house. The danger of setting the building on firewas great; but we strove to guard against it so much as possible byplastering a layer of mud over the wood, and by keeping careful watchwhen we had a roaring fire. Oftentimes were we forced to stop in thetask of cooking, take all the vessels from the coals, and throw waterupon the blazing logs.
The chimney was a rude affair, of course, and perhaps if we had hadwomen among us, they would have claimed that no cooking could be done,when all the utensils were placed directly on the burning wood, or hungabove it with chains fastened to the top of the fireplace; but when ladslike Nathaniel and me, who had never had any experience in cooking withproper tools, set about the task, it did not seem difficult, for we wereaccustomed to nothing else.
COOKING A TURKEY
And this is how we could roast a turkey: after drawing the entrails fromthe bird, we filled him full of chinquapin nuts, which grow profusely inthis land, and are, perhaps, of some relation to the chestnut. An oakenstick, sufficiently long to reach from one side of the fireplace to theother, and trimmed with knives until it was no larger around than theramrod of a matchlock, forms our spit, and this we thrust through thebody of the bird from end to end. A pile of rocks on either side of thefireplace, at a proper distance from the burning wood, serves as restsfor the ends of the wooden spit, and when thus placed the bird willbe cooked in front of the fire, if whosoever is attending to the laborturns the carcass from time to time, so that each portion may receive anequal amount of heat.
I am not pretending to say that this is a skillful method of cooking;but if you had been with us in Jamestown, and were as hungry as we oftenwere, a wild turkey filled with chinquapin nuts, and roasted in suchfashion, would make a very agreeable dinner.
We were put to it for a table; but yet a sort of shelf made from a plankroughly split out of the trunk of a tree, and furnished with two legs oneither end, was not as awkward as one may fancy, for we had no chairson which to sit while eating; but squatted on the ground, and this lowbench served our purpose as well as a better piece of furniture wouldhave done.
When the captain was at home, he carved the bird with his hunting knife,and one such fowl would fill the largest trencher bowl we had among us.
Nor could we be overly nice while eating, and since we had no napkins onwhich to wipe our fingers, a plentiful supply of water was necessary tocleanse one's hands, for these wild turkeys are overly fat in the monthsof September and October, and he who holds as much of the cooked fleshin his hand as is needed for a hearty dinner, squeezes therefrom aconsiderable amount in the way of grease.
We were better off for vessels in
which to put our food, than in manyother respects, for we had of trencher bowls an abundance, and theLondon Company had outfitted us with ware of iron, or of brass, or ofcopper, until our poor table seemed laden with an exceeding rich store.
CANDLES OR RUSHLIGHTS
To provide lights for ourselves, now that the evenings were grownlonger, was a much more difficult task than to cook without properconveniences, for it cost considerable labor. We had our choice betweenthe candle wood, as the pitch pine is called, or rushlights, which lastare made by stripping the outer bark from common rushes, thus leavingthe pith bare; then dipping these in tallow, or grease, and allowingthem to harden. In such manner did we get makeshifts for candles,neither pleasing to the eye nor affording very much in the way of light;yet they served in a certain degree to dispel the darkness when byreason of storm we were shut in the dwellings, and made the inside ofthe house very nearly cheerful in appearance.
To get the tallow or grease with which to make these rushlights, wesaved the fat of the deer, or the bear, or even a portion of the greasefrom turkeys, and, having gathered sufficient for the candle making,mixed them all in one pot for melting.
The task of gathering the candle wood was more pleasing, and yetoftentimes had in it more of work, for it was the knots of the treeswhich gave the better light, and we might readily fasten them upon aniron skewer, or rod, which was driven into the side of the house forsuch purpose.
