Left to their own resources, the colonists began to look with gloomy
apprehension upon the prospect before them. While the ships remained,
they enjoyed sea-stores, which to them were real luxuries, but now they
had little whereupon to feast, except a miserable compound of wheat and
barley boiled with water, and even to the larger portion of this the
worms successfully laid claim. Crabs and oysters were sought with
indolent greediness, and this unwholesome fare, with the increasing heats
of the season, produced sickness, which preyed rapidly on their strength.
The rank vegetation of the country pleased the eye, but it was fatal to
the health. In ten days hardly ten settlers were able to stand. Before
the month of September fifty of their number were committed to the grave,
and among them we mark, with sorrow, the name of Bartholomew Gosnold. The
gallant seaman might have passed many years upon the stormy coasts of the
continent, but he sank among the first victims who risked their lives for
colonization.
To this scene of distress and appalling mortality the president Wingfield
lived in sumptuous indifference. His gluttony appropriated to itself the
best provisions the colony could afford--"oatmeal, sacke, oyle, aqua
vitae, beefe, egges, or whatnot"--and, in this intemperate feasting, it
seemed as though his valueless life were only spared that he might endure
the disgrace he so richly merited.
Pages:
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618