AS civilization advances there develops
in the heart of man a higher
appreciation of the past, and the
deeds of preceding generations
come to be viewed with a calm
criticism which denudes those
deeds of false splendor and increases
the lustre of real accomplishment.
Man cannot see into the future and
acquire the prescience of coming events which
would make him infallible, but he can remove the
veil from the past, contemplate the mistakes and
successes of those who have lived before him, and
who struggled with the same problems which now
confront him. The results of their efforts are recorded
in history, and inspired by high ideals he can
study the past, and by feeding his lamp of wisdom
with the oil of their experiences he secures a
greater light to guide his own activities. Man
remains a slave to Fate until Knowledge makes
him free, and while all true knowledge comes
from experience, it need not necessarily be personal
experience.
In studying the past, deeds come to be estimated
more with reference to their ultimate results and as
factors in universal progress, and less as personal
efforts; just as more and more the personal merges
into the universal in all lines of endeavor. Viewed
in this light of ultimate results an imperishable and
increased lustre envelops the name of Sir Walter
Raleigh as the pioneer and faithful promoter of
English colonization in America. The recognition
of his services by the people who reap the reward
of his labors has ever been too meagre. A portrait
here and there, the name of the capital city in
a State, a mention among other explorers on a
tablet in the National Library, the name of a battleship,
and a few pages in history, help to remind us
of his association with this nation. Perhaps a few
may recognize his personal colors—red and white—in
the binding in this book, and his Coat of Arms
in the heraldic device which ornaments the cover,
and which are mentioned "lest we forget" one we
should honor.
The present and ever increasing greatness of
these United States is due to the efforts of this
remarkable man, who so wondrously combined in
one personality the attributes of statesman, courtier,
soldier, scientist, poet, explorer, and martyr. Isabella
of Spain offered her jewels to aid Columbus,
and the deed has been lauded and celebrated as of
international value, yet it contained no touch of
personal sacrifice. She was never deprived of her
jewels, and while her generous offer proved her
faith in the theories and ability of Columbus, it
brought to her no suffering. On the other hand,
the efforts of Sir Walter Raleigh were at his own
expense, and entailed financial disaster on him in
the end. That he sought to extend the power of
England must be admitted by those who correctly
estimate his character; yet no one will deny that
he was the most important factor in the colonization
of America by the English. Spain, France, and
England contended long for supremacy in the New
World, but France failed to gain any permanent
power, and Spanish dominance, as illustrated in
South America and Mexico, was followed by slow
progress. It was the English race, led by Raleigh,
which has become the leading power and modern
strength of America. Colony after colony he sent
to the new land, and desisted not, even after the
death of his half-brother and coadjutor, Sir Humphrey
Gilbert. Disaster could not daunt so brave
a spirit, and with unsurpassed enterprise and perseverance
he continued to send expeditions year after
year to what is now the coast of North Carolina, but
which was then called Virginia, and recognized as
Raleigh's possessions. Much money was required,
and when his own fortune was exhausted he transferred
to what is known as the London Company
his rights to the land, and by his advice they avoided
his mistakes and made the next settlement at Jamestown
instead of Roanoak Island.
These facts have been temporarily obscured by
the moss of neglect, but they cannot be destroyed.
They will ever remain the foundation-stones of the
great structure known and respected among nations
as the United States of America, and were laid by
Sir Walter Raleigh at Roanoak Island, on the coast
of North Carolina, which was then called Virginia.
The intervening years have brought great results,
those early struggles have ripened into success and
greatness beyond Raleigh's most sanguine dreams.
A new race has arisen, yet bearing the characteristics
of the race from which it sprung. Our English
ancestors, our heritage of English law and custom,
of religion and home life, of language and ideals,
all tempered by the development of new characteristics,
bind us through him to England.
Sir Walter Raleigh was not an ordinary man.
He was one of the most remarkable of a coterie of
remarkable men whom a remarkable queen (Elizabeth)
gathered around her, and to whom she owed
much of the grandeur of her remarkable reign.
Elizabeth's greatest gift was a capacity for discerning
and using great minds, and she had the good
fortune to find many around her at that period of
time. Raleigh won her favor, and received from
her many benefits, among which was the honor of
knighthood with its emoluments, which she conferred.
In the end her favor cost him dear, because
his heart had the courage to be true to itself in love.
Elizabeth never forgave him for loving, marrying,
and being true until death to her maid of honor,
the beautiful Elizabeth Throckmorton. That vain
and jealous queen permitted no rivals, and she
wished to reign over the heart of this man, who,
handsome, brave, gallant, intelligent, and romantic,
made an ideal courtier. His life at court was brilliant
but brief. Love anchored a soul attuned to
loftier deeds, and after his marriage his career as a
courtier was eclipsed by his later exploits as a statesman,
warrior, explorer, and author. He planned
and participated in many expeditions which brought
benefit to his queen and added to his own fortune,
yet none of his expeditions have borne such an
ever-increasing harvest of results as those he sent to
America. He began that work in 1584, and continued
to send expeditions in 1585-1586-1587, until
the invasion of England by the Spanish Armada
forced him to other activities, and even then he sent
two expeditions to the relief of the colonists, which,
because of the exigencies of war, failed to reach
America. In fact, the attitude of Spain towards
England at that time was the greatest obstacle which
militated against the success of his colonies. His
ships and his valor were necessary to suppress and
check the insolence and ambition of Spain, who designed
to conquer England and become mistress of
the world. By his valor, loyalty, and wisdom Raleigh
was largely instrumental in bringing about the failure
of those plans and in defeating the Spanish fleet,
which had been boastingly named The Invincible
Armada. Again his zeal and cool daring won for
England the great victory of Cadiz, which has
always ranked as the most remarkable achievement
in the annals of naval warfare. With only seven
ships he dashed in and destroyed a large Spanish
fleet (fifty-five ships) in its own harbor with a dexterity
and valor not surpassed even by Dewey at
Manila nor by Schley at Santiago.
Spain was always his foe because she feared him,
and it seems like the Nemesis of fate that three hundred
years later the death-blow of Spain as a world
power was dealt in Manila Bay by the nation which
Raleigh strove so hard to plant, himself all unconscious
of what the years were to bring. On that
famous morning when Dewey startled the world
and chastised Spain for her insolence and cruelty,
the ship which fired the first shot in a battle destined
to change the rating of two nations, the
ship which first replied to the fire of the Spanish
forts, as if answering the challenge of an old-time
foe,—that ship was the Raleigh, named in honor
of that great man by the nation he had fostered,
and in that battle Raleigh's foe was humbled,
Raleigh's fame perpetuated, and Raleigh's death
avenged.
After the death of Elizabeth the star of Raleigh
set. He whose most valiant work had been the
defense of England against the attacks of Spain was
falsely charged with treasonable negotiations with
Spain, and after a farce of a trial was thrown into
prison, where he remained more than twelve years.
The only mitigations of the horrors of prison life were
the presence of his devoted wife and his books. He
had always been a student, and he spent the weary
hours of his long confinement in that companionship
which is known only to those who really love books,
and to such minds they prove a panacea for sorrow
and injustice. During that imprisonment he wrote
his famous "History of the World," marking the
eventful epoch by writing a history of the Old World
at the same time that he was opening the gates of
the future by planting English colonies in the New
World. As soon as he was released from prison his
mind returned to schemes of exploration. He made
a voyage to South America, where new disasters
befell him, and where his oldest son was killed.
Shattered by grief and misfortune he returned to
England, where his enemies had planned his certain
downfall. Again he was sent to prison, but not for
a long time, for soon his princely head paid the penalty
which true greatness has too often paid to the
power of a weak king. As a subject he was loyal
and valiant, as a husband faithful and devoted, as a
father affectionate and inspiring, as a scholar distinguished
in prose and poetry, as a soldier he won
fame and fortune, as a statesman he contributed to
the renown of his sovereign's realm, and as a man
he lived and died guided by the highest ideals.
This was the man who spent a fortune trying to
establish English colonies in North America, and
who sent repeated expeditions to the island of
Roanoak, situated where the waters of the Albemarle
and Pamlico Sounds meet, on the coast of
North Carolina, but which was then called Virginia.
The island wears a cluster of historic jewels which
should endear it to all patriotic Anglo-Americans.
To them it should be the most sacred, the best
loved spot in all the United States. There the first
English settlements were made which led to English
supremacy in the New World. There the first home
altar was reared and the first child of English
parents in the United States was born and baptized.
There the blood of Englishmen first dyed the sod
of North America, and there the first attempts at
English agriculture were made. There was enacted
the tragedy of American colonization, the disappearance
of Raleigh's Lost Colony, and there the
sacrament of baptism was first administered in the
United States. Roanoak Island is a beautiful place,
with fertile soil and wild luxuriance of vine-covered
forests which are enveloped in a deep solitude which
has become dignity. Restless waters ebb and flow
by its side, restless winds kiss its bare sand dunes,
a genial sun brings to maturity its wealth of tree
and vine and shrub. Protected from the storms
which ravage the ocean beyond, it sleeps in quiet
beauty, content with its heritage of fame as the first
home of the English race in America.
Its isolated position, its wild beauty, its tragic
associations, its dignified repose, all seem to have
set it aside from the rush of modern progress that it
might become a shrine for the homage of a patriotic
people.
The wonderful fertility of the soil of this island
seemed a marvel to the early explorers, all of whom
have testified to it. Ralph Lane, governor of the
colony of 1585, in writing to Raleigh of the island
and the surrounding country, declared it to be "the
goodliest soil under the cope of heaven," and that
"being inhabited with English no realm in Christendom
were comparable to it;" every word of which
is true now, provided that the English who inhabit
it follow the suggestions of nature and adopt horticulture
as the developing means. The surrounding
country as well as Roanoak Island has a wealth of
climbing vines and clustering grapes which point
instinctively to grape culture. Amadas and Barlowe
(1584) wrote that they found the land "so full of
grapes as the very beating and surge of the sea overflowed
them, of which we found such plenty, as well
there as in all places else, both on the sand and on
the green soil, on the hills as on the plains, as well
as on every little shrub as also climbing towards the
top of high cedars, that I think in all the world the
like abundance is not to be found."
A Scuppernong Vineyard, Roanoak Island
Surely no other such natural vineyard was ever
found outside the fabled Garden of the Gods!
Even in this generation an old resident of the
Banks, an ante-bellum pilot on these waters, has
testified that his grandfather could remember the
time "when if a vessel were stranded on any of the
beaches the crew could crawl to land on the grapevines
hanging over where now there is only a dry
sand beach." Throughout the eastern part of that
State (North Carolina) the grape riots in natural
luxuriance and is luscious and fragrant. Many
varieties remain wild, while others have been improved
by cultivation. The three finest native
American grapes, the Catawba, the Isabella, and the
Scuppernong, are all indigenous to the soil of North
Carolina. The Catawba, native to the banks of the
river Catawba, from which it takes its name, is still
found wild in North Carolina, while it has become
celebrated at the North as a table-grape, and in
Ohio as a wine-grape. In its adopted home it has
revolutionized land values because of the money
value of the product. The Isabella grape, so
generally cultivated for table use, is thought to be a
hybrid between the Burgundy and the native fox-grape
of the Carolinas. The tradition runs that
the Burgundy was brought to South Carolina by the
Huguenots, and that cuttings from this hybrid were
brought to North Carolina and successfully propagated.
Mrs. Isabella Gibbs, for whom this well-known
grape was named, carried a vine from North
Carolina to Long Island, where it attracted attention
because of its hardiness.
To the people of the South Atlantic coast the
Scuppernong is by far the most important of the
native grapes, for while it refuses to flourish away
from its native home, yet its great possibilities as a
wine-grape are beginning to be appreciated. All
the early explorers gave it special mention. Hariot
in his famous Narrative wrote, "There are two kinds
of grapes that the soil does yield naturally, the one
is small and sour, of the ordinary bigness of ours in
England; the other far greater and of himself luscious
sweet. When they are planted and husbanded as
they ought, a principal commodity of wines by them
may be raised." (Hakluyt, 1586.) Lawson in his
history (1714) describes several varieties, and dwells
on the abundant supply of grapes and the great
tangles of green vines. He wrote of a native white
grape, which many in that day thought existed only
in his imagination; but it was a reality and was the
now well-known Scuppernong, whose fame history
and tradition both perpetuate, and whose real worth,
greater than its legendary fame, is now being recognized
and appreciated. There are several varieties
of the Scuppernong, all luscious and yielding rich
juices, and when ripe they fill the air with a fragrance
unknown to any other grape.
Old "Mother" Scuppernong Vine.
The first Scuppernong vine known to history was
found on the mainland of the North Carolina coast
by Amadas and Barlowe on their first voyage (1584).
Tradition relates that they transplanted this vine to
Roanoak Island. On this island there still flourishes
an old vine, which despite its gnarled body and
evident age continues to bear fruit. It is claimed
that it is the same vine Amadas and Barlowe planted.
Some insist that it was planted by Sir Walter Raleigh
himself, but as that famous knight did not realize his
wish to visit his new possessions in North America,
the honor of having planted the vine must revert to
Amadas and Barlowe. It seems to be endowed
with perennial youth, and the harvest from its
branches is an annual certainty.
What the early explorers testified as to the abundant
supply of grapes on the Carolina coast, and the
propitious conditions existing for the propagation of
the vine, is equally true to-day. The manifest destiny
of North Carolina as the rival of Southern France
in the production of wines seems to be inevitable.
The marvel is how it has been so long delayed after
Hariot's special mention of such possibilities. Hariot
was a close observer with a practical mind, and the
presence of an indigenous supply of material to sustain
an important industry suggested to him that the
people coming to this grape-laden land might establish
such an industry to their advantage. The delay
of the development of grape-culture in its native
home can only be explained on the theory that when
nature boldly invites, man becomes shy. This indifference
to grape-culture is peculiar to America, for
in Europe all the aristocracy who are land-owners,
where the climate makes it possible, are cultivators
of the grape, take great pride in their wines, boast
of their rare and fine vintages, and hold the making
of wine as one of the fine arts.
The original Scuppernong has white skin, white
pulp, white juice, and makes a white wine. Other
varieties have dark purple skins and yield a reddish
juice which makes a red wine. The dark varieties
are said to be seedlings from the original white variety,
and tradition explains the metamorphosis in
this way.
Among the Scuppernongs.—A Modern Vineyard.
In the magic spring made famous in the legend
of The White Doe, after the blood of Virginia Dare
had melted from the silver arrow into the water of
the spring, then the water disappeared. As the
legend says:
"Dry became the magic fountain,
Leaving bare the silver arrow."
Then while O-kis-ko looked on in wonderment he
saw
"a tiny shoot with leaflets
Pushing upward to the sunlight."
Tradition says that this "tiny shoot with leaflets"
was a young seedling of the Scuppernong which had
sprouted in the edge of the water, and it was not
seen by O-kis-ko until all the water had disappeared.
Then he saw it and immediately associated its appearance
with the magic arrow, and so left it "reaching
upward to the sunlight." After many days he
returned to the spot-drawn by an irresistible longing,
and covered the fatal arrow, which had brought
him so much woe, with earth and leaves to hide
it from his sight. The earth and leaves furnished
the necessary nourishment to the tiny vine, which
reached out with strength and vigor, and finding
friendly bushes upon which to climb, it soon made a
sheltering bower above the spot where had bubbled
the magic spring. This tiny green bower became the
favorite retreat of O-kis-ko, where he would linger to
cherish thoughts of his lost love, Virginia Dare, and
marvel on the wonders of her death. Then it came
to pass that when fruit came upon this vine, lo! it
was purple in hue instead of white like the other
grapes, and yielded a red juice. Full of superstition,
and still credulous of marvels, O-kis-ko imagined
the change to be due to the magic arrow buried
at its root. He gathered the grapes and pressed the
juice from them, and lo! it was red—it was the semblance
of blood, Virginia Dare's blood, absorbed
from the water (in which it had melted from the
arrow) by the vine, and yet potent for good. Surely
it held some unseen power, for it combined in some
mystic way through the mysterious earth at his feet
all the power of the magic spring, the power of the
silver arrow, and the power of human blood consecrated
through human love. He reverently drank
the juice of this new vine, believing that it would in
some way link him with the spirit of her he had
loved and lost. Year after year he drank this juice
and fed his soul on thoughts of love, making unconsciously
a sacrament, and finding happiness in the
thought that the blood of the maiden would feed his
spirit and lead him to her at last. To become good
like her and to go to her became his highest hope.
Aspiration had been born in his soul, and quickened
by love it could not die, but led him blindly to strive
to reach her, and such striving is never in vain.
A "Virginia Dare" Vineyard.
Another fact that should be enshrined in the
hearts and perpetuated in the memorials of the
nation, is that on Roanoak Island the first Christian
baptism in the United States was administered. By
order of Sir Walter Raleigh, Manteo, the friendly
Indian chief, was baptized soon after the arrival of
the colony under Governor White, and the following
Sunday Virginia Dare, the granddaughter of Governor
White, was baptized, both events being officially
reported to Raleigh. In this day of religious freedom
any enforced adoption of religious forms shocks
our pious instincts. Yet baptism has always been
considered necessary to salvation, and in the past
the zeal of Christians for the salvation of their fellow-men
often assumed the form of mild force. We read
where the Spaniards, always religious fanatics, administered
the Holy Sacrament to thousands in
Central America and Mexico at the point of the
sword; their zeal misleading them to force upon
those less enlightened than themselves the hope of
that heaven which they believed to be accessible
only through certain Christian rites. So to order
the baptism of an Indian chief seems a simple,
kindly thing, and most probably Manteo desired it
done. The only other Indian who received baptism
in those early settlements was Pocahontas, in 1614.
She was a captive at the time and held as a hostage
to induce Powhatan to comply with certain demands
of the colonists at Jamestown.
Despite the fact that Virginia Dare was baptized
twenty-seven years earlier than Pocahontas, yet it is
the Indian Princess who is figured in the painting
on the walls of the dome of the Capitol at Washington
as receiving the first baptism in the colonies.
Buried in the annals of that time lies the fact that
twenty-seven years before any colonist even came
to Jamestown, Virginia Dare was born and baptized,
as the sequence of Christian birth and as the
child of Christian parents. Virginia Dare was not a
myth. She was a living, breathing reality, a human
creature of good English descent, the granddaughter
of the governor of the colonies, the daughter of
the assistant governor, and a sharer in the mysterious
fate of Raleigh's Lost Colony. The historical
facts of her life and the legend of her fate and
death are contained in the pages of "The White
Doe."
Her baptism would not have been mentioned in
the records if it had not been official and proper.
In a new land, surrounded by dangers and difficulties,
with strange environment to divert the mind
to other channels, it would have been easy and
natural for her baptism to have been delayed if not
altogether neglected amid the stress of events. Her
prompt baptism and the official report of the event
to Sir Walter Raleigh is convincing testimony to
the presence of a chaplain at Roanoak.
How naturally the scene rises before us. The
young mother, her heart thrilling with the mysteries
of love and life, and elated with the joy of motherhood,
alert to the dangers of the new land, and suspicious
of the strange people among whom her
blue-eyed treasure must live, yet yielding cheerfully
to the busy smiling English women who had crossed
the ocean with her, and now with womanly intuition
ministered to her needs. We can picture them
making tidy the confused household, and stilling the
cries of the infant as they prepare her to receive
the sign of the cross. We can almost picture them
deliberating over a choice from among their limited
supply of vessels of one worthy to become the receptacle
of the water to be used. It was on the
Sabbath-Day, and the dedication to God of the
wee creature who had so newly come among them
was a fitting observance of the day. The solemn
words of the ritual of the English Church, never
before spoken in that primeval forest, must have
awakened mysterious vibrations which linger yet
and give to Roanoak Island that atmosphere of
perpetual repose which envelops it. There must
have come to those who witnessed the scene that
holy Sabbath-Day, just as it comes now to those
who view it from afar, a deep realization that the
God of the English and the Great Spirit of the Indian
are one and the same, then, now, and evermore.
The One God to whom in baptism Virginia
Dare was brought and in whose name Manteo the
savage was signed with the cross and given the
promise of salvation, and who remains the God of
the millions of English-speaking people who now
worship in the land which was then and there dedicated
to the service of Christ.
The mist of oblivion fades before the light of
Truth, and Virginia Dare will be a shining jewel in
the Chaplet of Memories which some day Christian
America will place upon the tomb of the Past.