In 1614 Captain John Smith, whom we have known already so favourably in Virginia, and who had long asserted, with a sagacity unusual in that age, that colonisation was the true policy of England, entered this abandoned field of enterprise, and with two ships, the private venture of himself and four merchants of London, set sail for the northern coast of the lands included in the Virginia patent. “Captain John Smith,” says the early chronicle of Charlestown, in Massachusetts, “having made a discovery of some parts of America, lighted, amongst other places, upon the opening betwixt Cape Cod and Cape Ann, situate in 71° of west longitude and 42° 20′ of north latitude; where by sounding and making up he fell in amongst the islands, and advanced up into the Massachusetts Bay, till he came up into the river between Mishawum, afterwards called Charlestown, and Shawmutt, afterwards called Boston, and having made discovery of the land, rivers, coves, and creeks in the said bay, and also taken some observations of the manners, dispositions, and sundry customs of the numerous Indians, or nations inhabiting the same, he returned to England, where on his arrival he presented a map of the Massachusetts Bay to the king; and the prince, afterwards King Charles I., called the river Charles River.” The name of New England, which Smith gave to the country, was also confirmed by the monarch, but the northern promontory of Massachusetts Bay, which he had called Tragabigzanda, in remembrance of the Turkish lady whose slave he had been at Constantinople, was changed by Prince Charles into Cape Ann, from regard to his mother, and by this appellation it is still known; the name of the Three Turks’ Heads which he gave to three islands at the entrance of the Bay, has also been changed, and a cluster of islands which he had called after himself is now known as the Isle of Shoals. Smith having successfully accomplished the purposes of his voyage, set sail homeward, leaving the second ship, commanded by one Thomas Hunt, to complete its lading and follow; but, as had been so often the case before, no sooner was Smith gone than mischief befell. Hunt, under pretence of trade, decoyed four-and-twenty Indians on board, and carried them away to Malaga, where he sold most of them for £20 a man as slaves, and would have sold them all, had not, says Cotton Mather, “the friars in those parts, learning whence they came, took away the rest of them, that so they might nurture them in the Christian religion.” This base action so incensed the natives, that for some time it was dangerous to the English to touch upon the shore; nevertheless, God, who frequently allows good to be produced from evil, overruled this outrage to the subsequent benefit of his people. Squanto, one of the poor Indians, escaping from bondage, fled to London; and after five years being restored to his country, became useful to the colonists as an interpreter.