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CHAPTER XXI

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after the departure of captain smith the colony went back to its old habits of laziness and mutiny. in august four of the nine vessels sent out from england arrived with the dreaded plague on board. then did death outstrip the indian. fever-stricken victims by the hundred lay dead and dying, and the bodies of the dead were dug up and eaten by the starving.

captain george percy, ill and feeble, tried vainly to stem the rising tide of disaster, but no mortal hand could prevent the starving time setting its fangs in the bodies of the remaining colonists. when the wrecked voyagers who had been on the ill-fated sea venture arrived from the island of bermuda there were only sixty gaunt, wild-eyed settlers to greet them. among these living skeletons were george percy, john laydon, his wife anne, and adam clotworthy.

desolation and death, famine and plague! no heart was courageous enough to brave them.

“home! take us home from this place of pestilence,” begged the stricken ones.141 “not one happy day have we ever enjoyed here.”

brave admiral somers listened to their pleadings. jamestown was to be abandoned to its savage owners again. not a tear was shed as they sailed away from the ruinous settlement.

“home to england, where i can see again the brimming cups of sack and haunch of roasted beef,” came in a low whisper from the emaciated adam, lying upon the deck of the patience. “john, do you think i will ever live to get there?”

they had proceeded but a few miles down the james when they were met by a boat rowed at full speed.

“stop, turn back! lord de la warre, governor of jamestown, is lying at point comfort, and commands your return,” cried captain brewster. “he has full store of provisions and all things needful.”

reader, have you ever passed through some ordeal that racked the body and unbalanced the mind until it was like a loosened rock clinging to the side of a toppling crag? have you ever been delivered from this ghastly position, only to find yourself plunged into the blackness of some unfathomable abyss? then you can understand142 the feelings of these miserable wretches on this june day in the year 1610. they were forced to return to jamestown, for military law ruled and a life could be easily taken.

back to the dismantled fort, to rotting cabins and filthy streets, they sorrowfully went. the cannon were dug up from near the gate of the palisade and some preparation hastily made for the reception of the governor, who arrived on sunday.

under his strict though kindly rule they repaired the cabins, built more, and refurnished the church with cedar pews, ebony altar, and font. the streets were cleaned, the gardens cleared, and comfort reigned once more. sunshine again shone out among the fast fleeting clouds, but a small cloud, no bigger than a man’s hand, still hung low down on the horizon.

the untiring efforts of the governor received a sudden check. sickness racked his frame—sickness that would not loose its hold. back to england went lord de la warre, leaving george percy again in charge.

up rose the small cloud on the horizon with lightning speed, and swelled in volume as it came. anarchy, mutiny, murder by the savages once more held full sway. then143 came captain argall, a second ratcliffe, and added to the trouble. after a year of mutiny under his governorship, governor dale arrived to take the helm of state.

the storm was over. its last rugged edges were swept away under the rigid rule of this stern old governor. each day he presided over the court to mete out punishment for the infraction of his laws.

“this man, your excellency, was caught railing against your commands,” said a soldier who did police duty.

“take him to the smithy and bore a hole in his tongue. that will silence him for a while,” ordered the governor.

“charles anderson says he is not religiously inclined and refuses to go to church, your worship.”

“bread and water and daily whipping until he is in a proper frame of mind,” ordered the governor.

“say, john,” said adam clotworthy, meeting laydon on the street, “things begin to wear as fair a look as they do in old england. yesterday i was over to master john rolfe’s plantation at varina. he has started to grow tobacco on a large scale. i wouldn’t be surprised if it does not become our staple commodity, now that governor dale has abolished the common144 storehouse and given every man a house and land that he can call his own.”

“he has solved the problem of the settlement of jamestown,” said laydon. “even those who were the ringleaders in mutiny have settled down into sober and industrious farmers. give a man some object in life and the good will surely come uppermost. you know james hutchinson, the wildest rake in the colony? i came by his bit of land just now and saw him weeding his cotton patch. well, i must be moving. i have to hill up my corn. i hope to get at least fifty good bushels this year.”

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