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of permanent prosperity. Although politically united, each acted independently of the other from the close of the seventeenth century; and both made a steady advance in population and wealth and in all the arts of refined society.

The settlers of North Carolinia turned their attention to the richer lands back from the sea; and hunters trapped the beaver and otter in the waters far in the interior along the streams and among the hills. Before the advance of civilization, the Indians had begun to lade like a romantic but terrible dream. The powerful Hatteras tribe, which, at the time of Lane's expedition, numbered about three thousand, in the year 1700 could muster but fifteen warriors, while another tribe on the Chowan had entirely disappeared. The remainder of the savages in that region had been defrauded of their lands and driven back into the deep forests, where they and their brethren perished, by the vices and diseases of the white man. No wonder the North American Indians saw, even thus early, that they were doomed to pass away before the powerful white race. Powhatan, the emperor of Virginia, had said:

"They only want a little land; they will do us no harm."* He did not understand the whites. He lived to know that he had made a grievous

* See "Pocahontas, a Story of Virginia," page 83.

mistake, for the Indians had fed an insect which in time had become a devouring dragon.

In 1704, the freedom of the North Carolinians —" every one of whom," it was said, "did what was right in his own eyes, paying tribute to neither God nor Caesar"—was disturbed by an attempt to establish there the ecclesiastical dominion of the Church of England. The Carolinians at this time were almost utter strangers to any sort of public worship. They had among them Presbyterians, Independents, Lutherans and Quakers, men who drew their politics, their faith, and their law from the light of nature. According to the royalists, the majority "were Quakers, atheists, deists and other evil-disposed persons." It was among such people that the pious zeal or bigotry of the proprietaries selected Robert Daniel as deputy governor, a fit instrument to rule the colonies and establish the Church of England. The legislature chosen without reference to this end, after much opposition, acceded to the design, and further enacted that no one, who would not take the oath prescribed by law, should hold a place of trust in the colony. Thus did North Carolinia first gain experience of disfranchisement for opinion's sake, and first heard of glebes and a clergy, while churches were ordered erected at the public cost; but the people had too long drunk at the fountain of freedom to yield. The laws could not be enforced. Six years afterward, "there was but one clergyman in the whole country." The Quakers, led by their faith, were foremost in their opposition. They were " not only the principal fomenters of the distractions in Carolinia; but the governor of the Old Dominion complained that they made it their business to instil like pernicious notions into the minds of his majesty's subjects in Virginia, and to justify the mad actions of the rabble by arguments destructive to all government."

When there occurred a vacancy in the office of governor, in 1705, anarchy prevailed. The northern colony had usually been governed by a deputy, appointed by the governor of South Carolinia, and Thomas Cary was commissioned as such deputy in the usual form. The proprietaries disapproved the appointment, and gave leave to the little oligarchy of their own deputies to elect a chief magistrate. They selected one William Glover; and the colony was forthwith rent with divisions. On the one side were churchmen and royalists, the immediate friends of the proprietaries; on the other, according to their statement, "a rabble of profligate persons," meaning Quakers and other dissenters, and that majority of the people which was unconsciously swayed by democratic instincts. Each party had its governor, and each elected its house of representatives. Both were failures. One wanted a legal sanction, and the other popular favor. It had been the common practice for North Carolinia to resist and imprison her governor, until, according to writers of the day, they came "to look upon that as lawful which had been so long tolerated," and the party of the proprietaries was easily "trodden under foot." The Quakers were a numerous people there and, having been fatally trusted with a large share in the administration of that government, were resolved to maintain themselves therein.

In the hope of restoring peace and order where only confusion and anarchy had reigned, Edward Hyde was dispatched to govern the province; but he was to receive his commission as deputy from Tynte, the governor of the southern division, and, as Tynte had already fallen a victim to the climate, Hyde had no authority to act save private letters from the proprietaries. He tried to organize a government, even convened a legislature; but it was elected under forms, which, in the eyes of his opponents, tainted the action with illegality, and it showed no desire to heal by prudence the distraction of the country, but, blinded by zeal for revenge, made passionate enactments, "of which they had not power to enforce the execution," and which, in Virginia, even royalists condemned as unjustifiably severe. At once, "the true spirit of Quakerism appeared" in open disobedience to unjust laws. With some of his friends, Cary took up arms, and it was rumored that they were ready for an alliance with the Indians. The governor of Virginia, an experienced soldier named Spotswood, was summoned by Hyde as an ally.

Governor Spotswood was embarrassed. He thought the country could not be safe so long as such incendiary spirits as swayed Carolinia were permitted to go unpunished; but the difficulty of marching troops into a country so cut up with rivers rendered the thought almost madness; besides, there were no troops but militia, the common people, or citizen soldiers, and as so many of them were in sympathy with the Carolinians, he readily saw the folly of such an attempt. The governor of Virginia might as well have attempted a military expedition against foxes and raccoons, or tried to enforce religious uniformity among the colonies, as to employ methods of invasion against men whose dwellings were so sheltered by creeks, so hidden by forests, so protected by solitudes as to be inapproachable by any regular army.

The insurgents played a high hand, obstructing the course of justice, demanding the " dissolution of the assembly, and the repeal of all laws they

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