Amongst these Brothers, _Madok_, a Prince of a milder disposition, weary of such unnatural Dissentions, threw up his share, better contented to seek new Fortunes abroad; whereupon there were many soon perswaded to venture their lives with him, where ever he would please to Transport: So Rigging a small Fleet, he Sail’d Westward, far beyond _Ireland_, where at last he discover’d an unknown and un-inhabited Countrey, but wondrous pleasant, the Air being temperate, and the Soyl most fertile: Glad of this good success (as the Story says) he returning, spreading the Fame of this his New-Found-Land, which they might exchange for a barren Soyl, hatter’d and harass’d with an endless Civil-War. No small number flock’d to these Summons, as a most acceptable Undertaking; so that soon after he was able to send forth ten good Ships, Freighted only with Men, Women, and Children, and all other Materials fit for a new Plantation; which not long after Landed in _Acuzamil_, a Countrey in the North of _America_, as _Francis Lopez de Gomara_ believes, because there he onely found some remaining Tracks of Christianity, a People that worshipp’d the Cross, but knew no reason why or wherefore they ador’d that sign of our Redemption. Now, some will say, that this Worship of the Cross is no argument to prove, that the _Brittish_ Christians first Planted in the North of _America_; but what will not time and change of place do, where Transplanted People keep no Records, so they forget not onely Religion, Laws, and Customs, but who they were, and from whence they came, Oblivion first mutilating, and at last swallowing up all; of which, take this one late president. [Sidenote: Strange occasion of _De la Roche_.] _Anno 1598._ The Duke _De La Roche_ obtain’d leave of the _French_ King, to transport a Colony of Volunteers to _New France_; in his way he Landed fifty Men on the Island _De Sable_, to rest his Passengers, and that he might the better, and with more ease explore the Countrey, and when resolv’d where to settle, then to fetch them off; who accordingly, as design’d, soon after, returning thither, was met with so violent a Storm, that not being able to Weather the Isle of _Sable_, where he left his People, he lost his whole Expedition, and was driven back to a _French_ Harbor, where no sooner arriv’d, he was so highly charg’d, that he was cast into Prison, when those he had left neglected upon the Isle, were not once so much as thought of; in this interim, they never expecting to hear more of their Captain, liv’d in a wild and miserable condition, feeding upon Fish, and sometimes wild Swine, without Bread, Drink, or Salt.