troubles at home. That the forces banded against the Lord's anointed
would prove victorious must at this time have appeared preposterously
unlikely to the fiery Governor and the ultra-loyal Virginia whom he led.
The Puritans and Independents in Virginia--estimated a little earlier
at "a thousand strong" and now, for all the acts against them, probably
stronger yet--were to be found chiefly in the parishes of Isle of Wight
and Nansemond, but had representatives from the Falls to the Eastern
Shore. What these Virginians thought of the "unkind differences" does
not appear in the record, but probably there was thought enough and
secret hopes.

In 1644, the year of Marston Moor, Virginia, too, saw battle and sudden
and bloody death. That Opechancanough who had succeeded Powhatan was
now one hundred years old, hardly able to walk or to see, dwelling
harmlessly in a village upon the upper Pamunkey. All the Indians were
broken and dispersed; serious danger was not to be thought of. Then,
of a sudden, the flame leaped again. There fell from the blue sky a
massacre directed against the outlying plantations. Three hundred men,
women, and children were killed by the Indians. With fury the white men
attacked in return. They sent bodies of horse into the untouched western
forests. They chased and slew without mercy. In 1646 Opechancanough,
brought a prisoner to Jamestown, ended his long tale of years by a shot
from one of his keepers. The Indians were beaten, and, lacking such
another leader, made no more organized and general attacks. But for long
years a kind of border warfare still went on.

Even Maryland, tolerant and just as was the Calvert policy, did not
altogether escape Indian troubles. She had to contend with no such able
chief as Opechancanough, and she suffered no sweeping massacres. But
after the first idyllic year or so there set in a small, constant
friction. So fast did the Maryland colonists arrive that soon there was
pressure of population beyond those first purchased bounds. The more
thoughtful among the Indians may well have taken alarm lest their
villages and hunting-grounds might not endure these inroads. Ere long
the English in Maryland were placing "centinells" over fields where men
worked, and providing penalties for those who sold the savages firearms.
But at no time did young Maryland suffer the Indian woes that had vexed
young Virginia.

Nor did Maryland escape the clash of interests which beset the
be