Doubtless a fragment of the population of England and a fragment of the English in Virginia saw in a pearly dream the red man baptized, clothed, become Christian and English.

At the least, it seemed that friendliness and peace might continue.
In the spring of 1622 a concerted Indian attack and massacre fell like a bolt from the blue.

Up and down the James and upon the Chesapeake, everywhere on the same day, Indians, bursting from the dark forest that was so close behind every cluster of log houses, attacked the colonists.
Three hundred and forty-seven English men, women, and children were slain.

But Jamestown and the plantations in its neighborhood were warned in time.

The English rallied, gathered force, turned upon and beat back to the forest the Indian, who was now and for a long time to come their open foe.
There followed upon this horror not a day or a month but years of organized retaliation and systematic harrying.