fortune had to break the way before judicious merchants would invest their capital in dubious speculations beyond the unknown sea. If among the forerunners who first caught glimpses of England's unique mission and feared not the hazards of adventure, one must be taken by way of illustration, the choice may very well fall upon Walter Raleigh, son of a country gentleman, knighted for service by Queen Elizabeth.
For the great undertaking in colonization, Raleigh's temper and early experience fitted him in a peculiar fashion. Alive to all the important interests of his age, he was fascinated by the multiplying tales of exploration and discovery. Humble geographers were among his friends. The sea dogs, Drake, Hawkins, and Frobisher, had respect for him; he was of their kind. In red scenes of battle, he had showed his daring, helping the Dutch to defy the rule of Spain and England's gallant sailors to send the Armada to the bottom of the ocean. Given to brooding upon high enterprise, he pondered upon the destinies of nations, sketching in fact during his later years a grand plan for a philosophic history of the world. Such was the first architect of English colonial fortune who saw in his dreams the American wilderness subdued by the people of his native land.
Unshaken by the fate of his brave half-brother, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, who, returning from one of his voyages of exploration, had perished in a storm, exclaiming as tradition has it, "we are as near to heaven by sea as by land," Sir Walter Raleigh determined to plant under mild skies on southern shores the beginning of a second England. Cautious at first, he sent out at his own expense a scouting expedition under Amadas and Barlowe who brought back reports of a paradise along the Carolina coast. Then Sir Walter sought the help of his sovereign and secured from Elizabeth a wine monopoly yielding him revenues for experimentation, supplementing a grant of land in America that promised to make him a feudal lord over a princely
