The storm that broke on St. James's Day, scattering the ships of the third
supply, drove the Sea Adventure here and there at will. Upon her watched
Gates and Somers and Newport, above a hundred men, and a few women and
children. There sprang a leak; all thought of death. Then rose a cry "Land
ho!" The storm abated, but the wind carried the Sea Adventure upon this
shore and grounded her upon a reef. A certain R. Rich, gentleman, one of
the voyagers, made and published a ballad upon the whole event. If it is
hardly Shakespearean music, yet it is not devoid of interest.
. . . The Seas did rage, the windes did blowe,
Distressed were they then;
Their shippe did leake, her tacklings breake,
In daunger were her men;
But heaven was pylotte in this storme,
And to an Iland neare,
Bermoothawes called, conducted them,
Which did abate their feare.
Using the ship's boats they got to shore, though with toil and
danger. Here they found no sprites nor demons, nor even men, but
a fair, half-tropical verdure and, running wild, great numbers of
swine.
And then on shoare the iland came
Inhabited by hogges,
Some Foule and tortoyses there were,
They only had one dogge,
To kill these swyne, to yield them foode,
That little had to eate.
Their store was spent and all things scant,
Alas! they wanted meate.
They did not, however, starve.
A thousand hogges that dogge did kill
Their hunger to sustaine.
Ten months the Virginia colonists lived among the "still-vex'd Bermoothes.
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