all other considerations. He surmised with reason, that having him
in their power, the Indians would endeavor to overcome the colonists,
whose natural incapacity to take care of themselves would be enhanced
by the belief that their leader was dead. He was racking his brain
to devise some means of communicating with them, when chance threw
an opportunity to him. It seems that in the encounter preceding his
surrender to Opechancanough Smith had seriously wounded one of the
Indians. He was now called upon to cure his victim and replied that he
might be able to do so if in possession of certain medicine which could
be obtained from Jamestown. The Chief agreed that two messengers should
bear a letter to the settlement, although he could not believe that
a few lines scrawled upon paper would convey any meaning, much less
elicit the desired response.
The messengers journeyed to the fort with all speed, and as they were
not permitted to approach closely, left the note in a conspicuous place
and there received the reply. Of course Smith took the opportunity
to warn the settlers of the projected attack, and prayed them to
be constantly on their guard. He also suggested that some show of
strength, as a salvo from the big guns, might have a salutary effect
upon the messengers. The latter, after they had received the medicine
requested, and turned homewards, were treated to such a thunderous
discharge of cannon and musketry that they ran for miles in terror of
their lives and arrived at the village well-nigh scared out of their
wits. Their account of this terrible experience decided the Indians
not to attempt a descent upon Jamestown and their respect increased
for a man who could convey his thoughts and wishes by means of such a
mysterious medium as a letter appeared to them to be.
Although the Indians had Smith unarmed and completely in their power,
they were not at all satisfied of his inability to harm them, and the
question seems to have caused them considerable anxiety. The medicine
men of the tribe undertook by incantations and other species of
deviltry to ascertain whether the captive’s intentions towards them
were good or otherwise. Smith was led in the morning to a large house
in the centre of which a fire burned. Here he was left alone, and
presently to him entered a hideous creature making unearthly noises in
his throat to the accompaniment of a rattle, whilst he danced about the
astonished Englishman in grotesque antics. This merry-andrew’s head was
decorated with dangling snake-skins and his body painted in a variety
of colors. After a while he was joined by three brother-priests who
set up a discordant chorus of shrieks and yells, whirling and skipping
about the house the while. They were painted half in black and half
in red with great white rings round their eyes. Shortly these were
joined by three more medicine men equally fantastic in appearance
and actions. The ceremony was maintained by these seven throughout
the day, much to the disgust of Smith, who soon found it tiresome and
uninteresting and particularly so as it involved an absolute fast from
dawn to sundown. In the evening women placed great mounds of food
upon the mats of the house and invited Smith to eat, but the priests
refrained from doing so until he had finished.
This performance was repeated on the two successive days, but we are
not told what conclusion was reached by all the fuss.
XVII.
POCAHONTAS TO THE RESCUE
After a weary circuit of the Indian villages Smith is brought to
Werowocomico--He is received by Powhatan in the “King’s House”--The
chiefs in council decide to put him to death--He is bound and laid out,
preparatory to being killed--Pocahontas intervenes at the critical
moment--Powhatan’s dilemma and Opechancanough’s determination--“The
Council has decreed the death of the paleface”--“I, Pocahontas,
daughter of our King, claim this man for my brother”--The Indian maiden
prevails--Smith is reprieved and formally adopted into the tribe--They
wish him to remain with them and lead them against his own people.
One morning, shortly after the episode of the medicine men, Captain
Smith learned, to his great relief, that commands had been received
for his removal at once to the capital. He had no idea what, if any
fate had been determined upon for him, but he was heartily tired of the
weary wanderings and suspense of the past weeks and ready to face the
worst rather than prolong the uncertainty. Werowocomico, the principal
seat of the “Emperor” Powhatan, was short of a day’s journey distant,
and Opechancanough, with his illustrious prisoner, reached the town
as the early winter night was setting in. The capital of the Werowance
consisted of about thirty large wigwams, or “houses,” as the earlier
writers called them, and a number of smaller ones. These for the nonce
were reinforced by the tepees, or tents, of the many Indians who had
come in from distant villages for the occasion which was no ordinary
one. The large wigwams were made in the form of the rounded tops of the
wagons called “prairie schooners,” which in the days before railroads
were used upon the continent of North America for long-distance travel.
These wagon tops were sometimes taken off and placed upon the ground
to serve as tents, when the occupants would be lying in a contrivance
exactly like the ancient wigwam in shape. The latter was commonly big
enough to contain a whole family and sometimes harbored an entire band
of fifty or sixty natives. In that case it had two rows of apartments
running along the sides and a common hall in the middle. The structure
was composed of a framework of boughs covered with the bark of trees or
with skins--sometimes a combination of both.
Smith’s captors approached the capital in triumphal fashion, chanting
their song of victory and flourishing their weapons in exultant pride.
The town was prepared to give them the reception usually accorded
to victorious warriors returning from battle. Great fires burned at
frequent points illuming the scene with a garish light in which the
bedaubed and bedizened savages looked doubly hideous. Chiefs and people
were attired in all their fantastic finery and even the children made
some show of tawdry ornament. The women had prepared food with even
more than ordinary profusion and had laid the mats in anticipation
of the prospective feasting. A double line of fully armed and foully
painted warriors--“grim courtiers,” Smith calls them--formed an avenue
to the “King’s house” along which the captive passed into the presence
of the great Werowance, whilst the spectators “stood wondering at him
as he had been a monster.”
At the farther end of the wigwam, upon a platform, before which a
large fire blazed, reclined the aged but still vigorous chieftain,
upon a heap of furs. On either side of him stood the principal chiefs
and medicine men of the tribe, whilst the women of his family grouped
themselves behind. Two dense walls of warriors lined along the sides of
the wigwam leaving a space in the centre which was covered by a mat.
Upon this Smith took his stand and calmly surveyed the scene which
was not without an element of rude beauty. A loud shout had greeted
his entrance. In the profound silence that followed, two women--“the
Queen of Appamatuck and another”--came forward with food which they
placed before him and signed to him to eat. Our hero’s appetite and his
curiosity never failed him under any circumstances. He had a habit of
living in the present moment and not concerning himself unduly about
the uncertain future. So, in this crisis, when the ordinary man would
have been too much preoccupied with the thought of his fate to attend
to the needs of his stomach, Smith addressed himself in leisurely
fashion to the pile of food and at the same time studied the details
of his surroundings with a retentive eye. Meanwhile, the savages stood
silent and stock still as statues until he had finished.
When at length our hero rose refreshed and ready to face his fate,
Powhatan also stood up and beckoned to him to approach the royal dais.
Powhatan was arrayed in his state robe of raccoon skins. A band of
pearls encircled his brow and a tuft of eagle’s feathers surmounted his
head. Smith was impressed by the dignity and forcefulness of the old
chief who addressed him in a deep bass voice.
“The paleface has abused the hospitality of Powhatan and requited his
kindness with treachery,” said the chieftain in slow and solemn tones.
“The paleface and his brethren came to Powhatan’s country when the
summer was young and begged for food and land that they might live. My
people would have slain them but I commanded that grain be given to
the palefaces and that they be allowed to live in peace in the village
which they had made. Was this not enough? Did not Powhatan thus prove
his friendship and good will to the strangers in his land?”
We know that all this was a mixture of falsehood and sophistry. As
such Smith recognized it, of course, but, as he did not wish to arouse
the chief’s anger by contradicting him, he decided to keep silence and
an immovable countenance. After a pause, during which he endeavored
without success to read the effect of his words in the prisoner’s face,
Powhatan continued:
“Powhatan’s people have given the palefaces abundance of food--venison
and fowls and corn. They have furnished them with warm furs. They have
shown them the springs of the forest. They have taught them to trap the
beasts and to net the fish. And the palefaces, scorning the kindness of
Powhatan and his people, turn their fire-machines upon them and slay
them. You--their werowance--they send to spy out the land of Powhatan
so that they may make war upon his villages in the night time. Now my
people cry for your blood. What shall I say to them? How shall I again
deny my warriors whose brothers you yourself have slain?”
“The Powhatan mistakes the purpose of myself and my people,” replied
Smith. “It is our wish and intent to treat our red brothers with
justice and friendliness. If we have killed some it hath been in
defence of our own lives. Our fire-machines have spoken only when the
bow was drawn against us. It is not in our minds to make war upon the
great Powhatan nor yet to rob him of his lands. Whatsoever we ask at
his hands we are ready to pay for. If the great Werowance allows the
clamor of his warriors for my life to override his own good judgment,
so be it. But I would warn Powhatan and his chiefs that my death will
be the signal for relentless war against their people, for I am the
subject of a mighty king whose rule extends over lands many times
greater than those of Powhatan, whose soldiers are as numerous as the
stars in the heavens and whose ships sail the seas in every direction.
He will surely avenge my death with a bitter vengeance.”
Smith had no idea of committing himself to an argument and wisely
contented himself with a brief statement of the facts, adding a
threat that he hoped might give the savages pause. It was clear from
Powhatan’s remarks that he was determined to place the prisoner in the
wrong, and contradiction could have no good effect. Finding that his
captive had nothing more to say, the Werowance sent him to a nearby
wigwam with instructions that he should be made comfortable and allowed
to rest. Meanwhile, the chiefs went into council over his fate.
Smith’s words had made a strong impression upon Powhatan, who was
the most sagacious Indian of his tribe. He was altogether averse to
putting the prisoner to death because he was forced in his mind to
acknowledge the white men as superior beings with whom it would be
dangerous to evoke a war. Doubtless they would soon send another chief
to replace Smith and more would be gained by holding him for ransom
than by killing him. But Powhatan’s wise conclusions were not shared by
the other members of the council. With hardly an exception they were
in favor of Smith’s death by the usual torturous methods. One of the
chiefs was a brother of the man who had died as the result of a pistol
wound inflicted by Smith in the skirmish preceding his capture. He was
implacable in the demand for the usual satisfaction of a life for a
life, and was warmly supported by Opechancanough who, to the day of his
death at their hands, maintained an unappeasable hatred for the whole
race of white men. Now Opechancanough was, after the great Werowance,
the most influential chief in the tribe, and rather than incur his
displeasure and that of the others, Powhatan yielded against his better
judgment. He did this, however, only after having expressed his opinion
to the contrary, and the real respect which he felt for Smith led him
to stipulate that the captive should not be put to the torture but
should be executed by the more humane and speedy means employed by the
savages with members of their own tribe.
This conclusion of the council having been reached, Smith was brought
again into the king’s house and informed of it. He bowed with courage
and dignity to the decision which he felt that it would be futile
to protest against and calmly held out his arms to the warriors who
came forward to bind him. Whilst these tightly bound his hands to his
sides and tied his feet together, others rolled into the centre of
the wigwam a large stone. When this had been placed, the prisoner was
required to kneel and lay his head upon it. This he did with the serene
self-possession that had not been shaken in the least during this
trying ordeal. At the same time he silently commended his spirit to his
Maker, believing that the next moment would be his last on earth. The
executioners stood, one on either side, their clubs poised ready for
the signal to dash out his brains.
Powhatan was in the act of raising his hand in the fatal gesture that
would have stamped our hero’s doom, when a young girl, as graceful as
a doe and not less agile, burst through the throng that surrounded
the Werowance and sprang to the prisoner’s side. Waving back the
executioners with the haughty dignity derived from a long line of noble
ancestors, she drew her slim and supple figure to its full height and
faced the group of chieftains with head erect and flashing eyes.
“Pardon, Powhatan! Pardon, my father!” she cried in a rich voice
quivering with emotion. “Pocahontas craves the life of the captive, and
claims the right to adopt him as a brother according to the immemorial
custom of our tribe.”
Powhatan was in a quandary. Pocahontas was his favorite daughter, his
pet, and the comfort of his old age. He had never denied her anything,
nor ever thought to do so. He had a strong inclination to grant her
request, but as he looked round the circle of angry faces and heard the
subdued mutterings of his chiefs he hesitated to incur their discontent.
“The Council has decreed the death of the paleface. It can not be, my
daughter,” he said. But there was an unusual trace of indecision in his
voice.
“It _must_ be, my father!” cried the girl, with spirit. “Is a princess,
and your child, to be denied the right that every woman of our tribe
enjoys? Any woman of the Powhatans may redeem a condemned prisoner by
adopting him, and I--I, Pocahontas, daughter of our king, claim this
man for my brother.”
Powhatan was deeply moved by the dignified and earnest plea of the
girl and was about to accede to it when Opechancanough leaned forward
and whispered in his ear. The words of the Chief of the Pamaunkes,
whatever they were, seemed to be decisive, for Powhatan, with a gesture
of mingled annoyance and regret, signed to the executioners to perform
their task. The eyes of Pocahontas had been anxiously fixed upon her
father during this pause in the proceedings and, as she saw his sign of
submission to the argument of the Pamaunke, she threw herself upon the
head of Smith and entwined her arms about his neck.
She had nothing further to say, realizing that words would have no
effect, but, with the quick wit of a woman, she had advanced an
argument which was unanswerable. The executioners dropped their clubs
and looked perplexedly towards the Werowance. The assembled warriors
gazed expectantly in the same direction. The affair had reached an
_impasse_. None there dared lay a hand on the girl save the Powhatan,
and he had no thought of doing so. He gazed at her with proud
satisfaction for a few moments, whilst a presentiment took possession
of his mind that this slip of a girl had unwittingly saved her tribe
from a world of possible troubles.
“Let be!” he said with an air of weariness. “The paleface shall be
adopted into the tribe to make hatchets for me and beads for his little
sister.”
With that Smith was unbound and taken to a wigwam where they brought
him food and left him to wonder at the marvellous workings of
Providence and pass a peaceful night.
The next morning our hero was led to one of the larger houses which
was divided in the middle by a partition. Smith was instructed to seat
himself and to await events. Presently, from the other side of the
screen came the most hideous howls and shrieks he had ever heard, but
Smith had got beyond the point of being disturbed by anything that
might occur. For half an hour or more the strange sounds continued,
when Powhatan and his chiefs entered, accompanied by Smith’s old
friends the noisy medicine men. He was informed that the ceremony
which had just taken place was that of his adoption into the tribe
and Powhatan formally addressed him as “son.” From this time Smith
was treated with the utmost consideration and those who had been
the most eager for his death, with the exception of the implacable
Opechancanough who departed to his village in high dudgeon, now vied
with each other in efforts to secure his good-will. Powhatan and Smith
held many conferences together in which each learned a great deal from
the other and grew to regard his erstwhile enemy with feelings of
respect and friendship.
The savages had entertained the hope that after the adoption Smith
would remain with them and they even thought to induce him to lead
them against Jamestown. It is needless to say that he firmly declined
to do either. Powhatan being at length convinced of Smith’s friendly
intentions agrees to his return but, in satisfaction of his own desire
as well as to appease the disappointment of his people, he exacts
a ransom to consist of two of the largest guns in the fort and the
biggest grindstone.
XVIII.
FIRE AND STARVATION
Powhatan by excessive greed overreaches himself--Smith is allowed to
return to the settlement--He finds the colonists, as usual, disturbed
by dissensions--Arrives just in time to prevent Ratcliffe and others
from deserting--Newport arrives with the “first supply”--The Indians
continue to treat Smith as a tribal chief--Fire destroys Jamestown
completely--Newport and Smith visit Powhatan--The purple beads
“fit only for the use of Kings”--The astute Indian Chief meets his
match in Captain John Smith--The settlers are smitten with the gold
fever--Captain Newport sails for England with a wonderful cargo.
Had Powhatan been less specific in his demand, or less greedy in his
desire, Captain Smith might have found it difficult to agree to his
proposal. But, when the Werowance made a point of exacting the “two
largest guns and the biggest grindstone” in the fort, Smith had no
hesitation in saying that he would permit Powhatan’s messengers to
carry away the articles mentioned. This point having been settled to
their mutual satisfaction, the Chief detailed twelve men to guide and
guard our hero on the road to Jamestown which, being but twelve miles
from Werowocomico, they reached by easy marches. The Indian escort was
treated with all the kindness Smith could command for them. Each was
given a present and they were charged with the delivery of a package to
Powhatan, containing a number of the things most highly prized by the
savages. When the time for their departure came they asked for the guns
and grindstone which they were to carry back to their Chief.
“Certes! They be yours if you can carry them,” replied Smith, pointing,
with a quizzical smile, at two demi-culverins each weighing more than
four tons and a huge grindstone which four men could hardly raise
on edge. The baffled savages looked on these ponderous things with
dismay and had to admit that they could not be carried to Werowocomico
though the whole tribe came after them. Smith was not willing that his
visitors should leave without gaining some impression of the power as
well as the size of the ordnance and so he loaded one of the guns with
small stones and discharged it into the trees where the icicle-laden
boughs were thickest. The smoke and racket that followed filled the
Indians with terror and they took their leave hurriedly, doubtless glad
that the roaring, fire-spitting monster was not to accompany them.
The great majority of the settlers welcomed Captain Smith, whom they
had never expected to see again, with genuine joy. Once more he had
arrived just in the nick of time, for the affairs of the colony had
been going from bad to worse during his absence and were now on the
point of a crisis that, had it not been averted, would have probably
effected the ruin of the colony. There had been no improvement in the
government. Ratcliffe had become justly unpopular in the presidency and
Archer, a pettifogging lawyer and mischief-maker, had been admitted
to the Council. Martin, feeble in health and mind, had fallen under
the complete domination of the other two and with them and other
malcontents had entered into a conspiracy which the return of Captain
Smith was just in time to frustrate. He no sooner heard of their plot
to sail to England in the pinnace and desert the settlement than he
bearded them in the Council room.
“So,” he cried, indignation and contempt showing in every tone and
gesture. “So! These be the gallant gentlemen who contended among
themselves for leadership of our enterprise! By my halidame! A fine
pack of leaders--tufftaffaty humorists rather! Ye mind me of one
Falstaffe--a cowardly, gluttonous braggart he--I once saw depicted
at the Globe playhouse. Not one of you has hazarded his skin beyond
musket-shot of the fort but now, having fattened and reposed yourselves
through the winter, ye would return to England and brag of your brave
deeds and feats of arms. But--and I mistake not--we shall find a
different conclusion for your plot. I hold the King’s commission to
maintain the flag of England in this country and whilst my arm and
brain serve me that will I do in good faith and count all such as
oppose the commands of His Most Gracious Majesty, enemies of the realm
and traitors to their country. Take heed then how ye proceed in this
matter, for I will see to it that the guns are manned day and night by
good and true men with instructions to sink the pinnace at the first
show of sinister design.”
With that Smith clapped his hat upon his head and strode out of the
Council room.
If the conspirators had entertained any thought of pursuing their
project in the face of Captain Smith’s opposition, the ringing shout
with which he was greeted by the waiting crowd outside was sufficient
to banish it. Word of what was going forward had drawn the settlers to
the Council House and much of Smith’s harangue, delivered in a voice
strong with anger, had penetrated to them. They were almost to a man
in sympathy with him, for the cowardly plotters belonged exclusively
to the “gentleman” class among the colonists, men who arrogated to
themselves superior privileges and rights whilst unwilling to bear even
their share of hardship and toil. These poor creatures should not be
considered representative of the gentlemen of England, who in those
stirring times produced many of the bravest and most self-sacrificing
leaders in the chronicles of Christendom.