The sky was blue, the water bluer still, the
leaves bright-colored, the wind blowing; only the enshrouding
forest, wrapped in haze, seemed as dim, unreal, and far away as a
last year's dream.
The Governor's gilt armchair had been brought from the church,
and put for him upon the bank of turf at the upper end of the green.
By his side sat my Lady Temperance, while the gayly dressed
dames and the men who were to play and to watch were
accommodated with stools and settles or with seats on the green
grass. All were dressed in holiday clothes, all tongues spoke, all
eyes laughed; you might have thought there was not a heavy heart
amongst them. Rolfe was there, gravely courteous, quiet and
ready; and by his side, in otterskin mantle, beaded moccasins, and
feathered headdress, the Indian chief, his brother-in-law, - the
bravest, comeliest, and manliest savage with whom I have ever
dealt. There, too, was Master Pory, red and jovial, with an eye to
the sack the servants were bringing from the Governor's house; and
the commander, with his wife; and Master Jeremy Sparrow, fresh
from a most moving sermon on the vanities of this world.
Captains, Councilors, and Burgesses aired their gold lace, and their
wit or their lack of it; while a swarm of younger adventurers,
youths of good blood and bad living, come from home for the weal
of England and the woe of Virginia, went here and there through
the crowd like gilded summer flies.
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