Part 10

When Berkeley was called back to England in disgrace, none of the Virginians were sorry to see him leave. But the new governor sent out by the owners was no better, for he laid such heavy taxes upon the people that the king finally had to take back the gift he had made to his friends. Virginia, therefore, once more became a royal province. But shortly after, King Charles died, and his Catholic brother, James, had to put down a rebellion in England before he could occupy the throne in peace. James was very resentful; so many of those who had taken up arms against him were sentenced by a harsh English judge to be shipped to Virginia and sold there as slaves for a term of ten years.

But although both king and judge had decreed that none of these poor prisoners should be allowed to buy their freedom, the Virginians generously set them at liberty as soon as they landed. The governor, seeing it would make trouble if he tried to oppose the Virginians in this, made no great objection, and after that no white men were ever sold as slaves in America.

Before long, too, another improvement was made; for the Virginians, feeling that it was necessary to have a college of their own, sent a messenger to England for a charter. Although the king's ministers swore at this man at first, and told him that Virginians ought to think of nothing but tobacco, permission was finally granted, on condition that two copies of Latin verse should be sent to England every year. The college thus founded--the second in our country--was called William and Mary, in honor of the king and queen who succeeded James II. in 1688.

Some years later, Governor Spots´wood built himself a beautiful house in Virginia, which he ornamented with large mirrors. But the woods were still so thick there that we are told a deer strayed into the parlor one day. Catching a glimpse of his reflection in a tall mirror, he rushed up to the glass and dashed it to pieces with his horns!

This same Spotswood was of an adventurous turn of mind, and wishing to see what lay beyond the Blue Ridge Mountains, he once set out on a journey of exploration. It is said that he and his jolly companions crossed both the Blue Ridge and the Al´le-gha-nies, coming home after a ride of about one thousand miles, delighted with the beautiful country they had found on the other side of the mountains.

They sent such a glowing account of this journey to King George I. that he knighted Spotswood, giving him a coat of arms bearing a golden horseshoe. Some writers add that, in memory of this long ride, Spotswood founded an order of knighthood in Virginia, which included all those who had made part of the expedition, and their direct descendants.

XLIV. THE CAROLINA PIRATES.

You remember, do you not, how Raleigh tried and failed to plant a colony on Roanoke Island, in what is now North Carolina? For about seventy-five years after this, that part of the country was left to the Indians and the few settlers who strayed there from Virginia. But in 1663 Charles II. gave a large tract of land to several of his favorites, who were called the lords proprietors. To flatter the king, they named the country Carolina, the very name which the French had given it many years before, in honor of their monarch, Charles IX.

Now, the lords proprietors wanted to make this colony different from all the rest by placing all the power in the hands of the rich and noble, as was arranged by a code of laws drawn up by John Locke. But these laws could never be used, and to induce people to settle in Carolina at all, the lords proprietors had to promise them large tracts of land, freedom of thought, and a share in making the laws.

This granted, Quakers, Huguenots, Puritans, Scotch, Irish, English, Swiss, Germans, and Dutch came there in great numbers. In the north, the colonists devoted themselves to lumbering, tobacco-raising, and the production of tar, pitch, and turpentine; but in the south, they grew a great deal of rice, indigo, and tobacco, and many sweet potatoes.

At first, the French Huguenots tried to raise silkworms in their new colony; but they soon had to give up this attempt, because the climate proved too damp. Still, although unfavorable for silkworms, Carolina proved just right for the growing of rice. The first seed was brought to the governor of Charles´ton by a Mad-a-gas´car ship captain, who bade him plant it in marshy soil. There the rice grew so well that before long all the swamps were turned into rice fields, and Carolina rice is now famous in all parts of the country.

Some fifty years later, a planter's daughter tried to raise indigo. After several failures, she succeeded in doing so, and indigo was raised in Carolina until the time came when cotton paid better. Thanks to its rice, tobacco, indigo, and marine supplies, Carolina became so rich and prosperous that, although it was the twelfth English colony, it soon outstripped several of the rest. The Carolina planters, growing rich, bought many negroes to work their large tracts of land, and spent the greater part of the year at Charleston, where they led a gay life and entertained a great deal.

Carolina was also noted for her bold seamen, for all along the coast there were many small harbors, in which pirates could hide. They sailed out of these places to attack vessels on their way to and from the West Indies, and often secured much booty. The best known of all the Carolina pirates was Blackbeard. Like Captain Kidd of New England, he is supposed to have buried great treasures in the sand along the coast, and there are still people foolish enough to try to find them.

The Spaniards, who still held Florida, had always been jealous of the English. When the latter came to settle in Carolina and Georgia, the Spaniards, hoping to drive them away, stirred up the Indians to war against them, and sometimes took part in the fights themselves. Besides, many disputes arose about the boundaries, both parties being equally inclined to claim all the land they could.

In 1729 the lords proprietors ceased to have any control over their lands, which, divided into North and South Carolina, became two royal provinces. These prospered much during the following years, and by the time the Revolutionary War began, North Carolina ranked fourth in importance among the colonies.

We have now seen how twelve of the English colonies were planted on our coast, and before traveling northward once more, to see how New England was getting along, you shall hear how the thirteenth and last colony was founded, in 1733.

James O´gle-thorpe, a kind-hearted Englishman, perceiving the suffering of debtors, who were then imprisoned like criminals, longed to give them a chance to begin life over again. Thinking they could best do this in the New World, he asked George II. for a tract of land there, promising to hold it in trust for the poor. This territory was called Georgia, in honor of the king; and Oglethorpe, having assembled his colonists, sailed for America.

Arriving at Charleston, he went southward and founded the city of Sa-van´nah. Before doing so, however, he had an interview with the Indians of that section, from whom he bought the land. In exchange for his gifts, they presented him with a buffalo robe lined with eagle feathers, saying: "The eagle signifies swiftness, and the buffalo strength. The English are swift as a bird to fly over the vast seas, and as strong as a beast before their enemies. The eagle's feathers are soft, and signify love; the buffalo's skin is warm, and means protection: therefore, love and protect our families."

An attempt to cultivate olive trees and breed silkworms proved as great a failure in Georgia as in Carolina; but rice soon became one of the staples of the colony, and the first fine cotton was raised there from seed brought from India. Oglethorpe, wishing to give his colony a good start, said that neither rum nor slaves should be allowed within its limits. But some of his colonists were displeased at this, although both Oglethorpe and John Wesley--the founder of the Methodist Church--tried to convince them that they would be far better off if they did their own work and kept sober. Shortly after the visit of the Wesley brothers, White´field also came out to visit the Georgia colony, where he supported the first orphan asylum built in our country.

In 1739, war having broken out between England and Spain, Oglethorpe led a small army of Georgians into Florida, to besiege St. Augustine. To punish the Georgians for this attempt to take their city, the Spaniards invaded their land three years later, but only to be defeated at the battle of Fred-er-i´ca. When these troubles came to an end, Oglethorpe went back to England. But even before his departure people began to change the laws, and in a few years they introduced both rum and slavery. Although Oglethorpe gave up Georgia to the king in 1752, he took a great interest in the settlement he had founded, and as he lived to be very old, he saw it join the other colonies in 1776, for it was one of the famous thirteen.

XLV. CHARTER OAK.

After King Philip's War was over in New England, Charles II. turned his attention to the colony of Massachusetts Bay, where four things did not suit him. The Navigation Law, which applied to all the colonies, was not kept in Massachusetts; there were many quarrels between that colony and the settlements in Maine; Massachusetts would not have an Episcopal church; and it had coined money. To punish the colony for these things, Charles took away its charter (1679), and said that thereafter New Hampshire should form a separate royal province.

The Massachusetts people were, of course, angry at being deprived of their charter; still, they managed to keep the money they had minted. These coins bore on one side a rudely stamped pine tree. Charles having asked to see one of them, the man who showed it to him carefully explained that the picture represented the Royal Oak, whose branches had concealed the king when Cromwell's soldiers were seeking for him. This clever explanation so amused the merry monarch that he allowed Massachusetts to retain its "pine-tree shillings." We are also told that the mint master was allowed a certain number of these coins as pay. When his daughter married, he made her sit down in one scale, filled the other with "pine-tree shillings" till the scales balanced, and gave her with this dowry to his new son-in-law, telling him he now had a wife who was really worth her weight in silver.

When James II. came to the throne, he sent Governor An´dros to rule over New England and New York. This man, wishing to make sure all the power would be in his hands, tried to get hold of the charters of the colonies. But when he asked the people of Rhode Island to give up theirs, they gravely answered they did not have any.

Next, he went to Hartford and asked the Connecticut Assembly to surrender their charter. The people, unwilling to give it up, argued about the matter until it grew so dark that candles had to be brought into the room. Seeing that the governor would yet compel them to obey his orders, a patriot, Captain Wadsworth, suddenly flung his cloak over the candles, and taking advantage of the darkness and confusion, seized the charter, which he cleverly hid in a hollow oak. This tree stood in Hartford until 1856, when it blew down; but the spot where the Charter Oak once stood is now marked by a monument.

As there were no matches in those days, it took time to relight the candles; but as soon as that was done, Andros again demanded the charter. No trace of it could now be found. Andros, in a rage, then called for the record books of the colony, and writing _Finis_ ("The End") at the bottom of the page, declared he would rule Connecticut without any charter at all.

He next proceeded to Boston, where he made the people equally angry by insisting upon holding Episcopal services in the Old South Church, by laying extra taxes upon them to pay for the building of a fine new chapel, and by trying to assume all the power. His tyrannical ways finally made the Bostonians so indignant that they put him in prison.

Some of the governor's friends, who were called Tories, because they sided with the king, now tried to rescue him. They cleverly smuggled women's garments into the prison, and Governor Andros, dressed like a lady, would have gotten out of prison safely had not his big feet roused the suspicions of the guard. Shortly after, he was sent to England to be tried, and although he later governed Virginia, he never came back to New England. His master, James II., being as much disliked in England as Andros was in the colonies, had meanwhile been driven out of the country, where his son-in-law and daughter, William and Mary, came to reign in his stead (1688).

The New England people, like most of the English, were delighted with this change of masters. They had cause to be, for Connecticut and Rhode Island were now allowed to keep their old charters, while Massachusetts received a new one, by which the Plymouth colony and Maine were added to it, and by which the right to vote and partly govern themselves was assured to the people.

But we are told that Governor Fletcher, who ruled over Connecticut after Andros, had so little respect for its charter that he once went to Hartford to assume command over the militia there. He, too, was met by Captain Wadsworth, who, having called out his men as requested, bade them beat the drums every time the governor tried to have his orders read.

This scene must have been very funny; for while the governor roared, "Silence!" Wadsworth loudly cried, "Drum! drum, I say!" Finally the captain laid his hand on his sword, saying very firmly: "If I am interrupted again, I will make the sun shine through you in a minute." Frightened by this threat, Governor Fletcher returned in haste to New York, and never made another attempt to tamper with the Connecticut charter.

At about the same time an interesting meeting was held by several Connecticut ministers at New Haven. They had decided they needed a new school, so each man brought a few books, which he laid down on the table, saying they were his contribution to the new institution. This school was held in different places at first, but in 1718 it took the name of Yale College, because a man of that name gave some books and money for its use.

A few of the old Tories, both in England and America, remained faithful to the banished James, and among them was the governor of New York. When William and Mary were proclaimed rulers, this governor fled, leaving the colony without any head. Leīs´ler, a patriotic citizen, knowing the French and Indians in the north would take advantage of this state of affairs to invade the province, now rallied his friends around him, and with their help began to govern for William and Mary.

But as Albany at first refused to obey Leisler, there was some trouble and bloodshed. Soon a messenger came over from England, to say that the king and queen were going to send over a new governor, named Sloughter. This messenger bade Leisler, in the meantime, give up the power to him; but the patriot refused to do so, and surrendered it only to Sloughter when he finally came.

Because of this refusal, Leisler and eight of his friends were accused of treason, and sentenced to death. But Sloughter, feeling that the trial had been hardly fair, would not sign their death warrants, so they could not be put to death. Leisler's foes, therefore, had to wait until a dinner party took place, when they made the drunken governor sign the papers, and hanged Leisler. A few years later, the whole affair was brought before Parliament, which declared that Leisler had died innocent, and paid his family a certain sum of money because he had been wrongfully accused and killed.

XLVI. SALEM WITCHES.

About four years after the Revolution of 1688, in England, arose the Salem witchcraft delusion, which you will now hear about. In olden times, as you have seen, people had very few and poor chances of learning, compared with what you have now. Almost everybody then believed in witches. These were supposed to be persons who had sold their souls to Satan, could ride through the air on broomsticks, make others ill by looking at them with an evil eye, cast a spell upon cattle, houses, or furniture, and, in short, do all sorts of impossible things.

As you know, some children have very lively imaginations, and hearing people talk of such things as seriously as if they were quite true, a few children in Salem, Massachusetts, began to fancy they must be bewitched, because they were not quite well and had fits. The grown-up people, who should have known better and merely given the children medicine to cure their illness, believed these youngsters, and anxiously inquired who could have cast a spell upon them.

The children, remembering that their elders often spoke of the witches as old, first began to talk of such and such a woman who had looked at them crossly or threatened to beat them with her staff when they played tricks upon her. These poor old creatures, who were really in their second childhood, and not responsible for what they said or did, were put into prison, and tortured in many cruel ways, so as to force them to confess that they were witches. Bewildered, and hoping to get free, some of the poor old creatures finally acknowledged that they were witches.

Almost everybody believed in witchcraft at that time, and for many years supposed witches had been treated with great cruelty in Europe. When persons accused of witchcraft refused to confess, some people thought that the only way to find out the truth was to throw them into the water. If the victims sank, it was said they could not be witches, but if they swam, it was considered a sure sign that they had sold themselves to the Evil One, and they were sentenced to death, either by hanging, burning, or torture. But this was, after all, only a choice of deaths, for the poor creatures who sank were allowed to remain under water so long, to make sure they were innocent, that they were generally dead when taken out.

Persons who were only suspected of witchcraft were put in the stocks, fastened to the pillory, whipped at the cart tail, or placed on the ducking stool, or had their ears chopped off. These were punishments often applied to criminals in those days, and if you care to see pictures of pillory, stocks, and ducking stool, you can find them in any large dictionary. Both men and women were accused of witchcraft in Salem, and one of the men was put to death by a torture called _peine forte et dure_, by which he was slowly crushed under a thick door, upon which tremendous weights were laid. He was, fortunately, the only person in our country who was ever punished in this inhuman way.

Nearly one hundred and fifty people of all kinds were arrested for witchcraft in Salem, and nineteen of them, after being tried by a court, were found guilty and put to death. But people finally saw that it was all folly, and even the learned minister, Cotton Math´er, who had believed in witches just like the rest, had to own that he had been mistaken. The children were now punished when they pretended to be under a spell, and the Salem witchcraft delusion came to an end. Ever since then, no one with a grain of sense has believed in witches; but you will often hear people speak of the terrible time they had in Salem while the belief in them lasted. The building shown in the picture was one of the houses of Salem at that time; and it is still pointed out there as "the witch house."

Mather, the famous "Patriarch of New England," who believed in witches, was a very learned man. He wrote more books than there are days in the year, and was so busy that he wrote over his door, "Be short," so that people should not take up his time with idle talk. In one of his books he once read that smallpox could be prevented by vaccination. He told this to Boylston, a Boston doctor, who tried it on his own son and servants. But when the Bos-to´ni-ans first heard of it, they were so indignant that they wanted to kill Boylston.

In time, however, people saw that the doctor was right, and ever since vaccination has been practiced, few people have died of the disease which once swept away whole families. Because Boylston went ahead and did what was right, in spite of people's threats, he is now greatly honored, and a fine street in Boston bears his name.

XLVII. DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI.

While the English were planting thirteen colonies along the Atlantic seaboard, between Nova Scotia and Florida, the French were equally busy farther north. As we have seen, Breton fishermen visited the banks of Newfoundland early in the sixteenth century, and gave their name to Cape Breton Island. Verrazano and Cartier both crossed the Atlantic in behalf of the French, Cartier naming the St. Lawrence, Canada, and Montreal, and claiming all Acadia (the land east of Maine), together with New France, which was situated in the basin of the Lakes and the St. Lawrence River.

Religious troubles had, as we have also seen, led Coligny to try to plant colonies in Carolina and Florida. But the Huguenot settlers were murdered by the Spaniards, and the attempt of De Monts (mawN) to establish a colony in Maine proved equally unsuccessful. The first real settlement of the French was made at Port Royal (Annapolis), in Acadia (Nova Scotia), in 1604. This colony, composed of thrifty people, in time became prosperous, and the Acadians lived in peace and comfort in their new homes, being on excellent terms with all the neighboring Indians.

In 1608, Champlain (sham-plān´), the "Father of New France," a noble, brave, and good Frenchman, crossed the Atlantic for the fourth time. He sailed far up the St. Lawrence, and made a settlement at Quebec, which soon became the chief French town in America. Champlain explored the country for hundreds of miles around there. He was the first European to behold the lake which bears his name, the same year that Hudson sailed up the river to Albany (1609). During these explorations of New France, Champlain made friends with the Al-gon´quin Indians, the great foes of the Ir-o-quois´ (or Five Nations), who occupied all the central part of what is now New York state.

The Algonquin Indians, being at war with the Iroquois, persuaded Champlain to help them. His presence in armor in the next battle, and the report of European firearms, so terrified the Iroquois that they were badly beaten on the shore of Lake Champlain. This ever after made them hate the French as cordially as they did their lifelong enemies, the Algonquin Indians. To be able to cope with the latter, who easily got firearms from French traders, the Iroquois began to buy guns from the Dutch; for their usual weapons, tomahawk and bow and arrows, were far less effective than firearms.

The French had come to Quebec with two great purposes in view: the first, to trade for furs, and the second, to convert the Indians. The colonists were, therefore, either trappers, traders, or missionaries. The former went about from place to place to set their traps or trade with the Indians, and were therefore called _voyageurs_ (travelers), or _coureurs de bois_ (wood rangers). Finding the European dress unsuited to the rough life they led, these men soon adopted a half-Indian costume of soft deerskin, and learned many of the woodland ways of the redskins.