James's Town, intending to oblige her father, king Powhaton, to come to
what terms he pleased for the deliverance of his daughter. Though the
king loved her tenderly, yet he would not do any thing for her sake which
he thought was not for his own and the nation's interest; nor would he be
prevailed upon to conclude a firm treaty of peace till he heard his
daughter, who had turned a Christian, was christened Rebecca, and married
to Mr. John Rolfe, an English gentleman, her uncle giving her away in the
church.
Powhaton approved of the marriage, took it for a sincere token of
friendship, and was so pleased with it, that he concluded a league with
the English in the year 1613.
Some time after, Sir Thomas Dale going for England, took Mr. Rolfe and
his wife Pocahonta with him, and arrived at Plymouth.
Captain Smith, hearing the lady who had been so kind to him was arrived
in England, and being engaged at that time in a voyage to New England,
which hindered his waiting on her himself, petitioned queen Anne, consort
to king James, on her behalf, setting forth the civilities he had
received from her, and obligations she had laid upon the English, by the
service she had done them with her father.
The queen received this petition very graciously; and before Captain
Smith embarked for New England, Mr. Rolfe came with his wife from
Plymouth to London. The smoke of the city offending her, he took
lodgings for her at Brentford, and thither Captain Smith went with
several friends to wait on her.
Pocahonta was told all along that Captain Smith was dead, to excuse his
not coming to Virginia again; from which he had been diverted by settling
a colony in New England. Wherefore, when this lady saw him, thinking the
English had injured her in telling her a falsity, which she had ill
deserved from them, she was so angry that she would not deign to speak to
him: but at last, with much persuasion and attendance, was reconciled,
and talked freely to him: she then put him in mind of the obligations she
had laid upon him, and reproached him for forgetting her, with an air so
lively, and words so sensible, that one might have seen nature abhors
nothing more than ingratitude--a vice that even the very savages detest.
She was carried to court by the Lady Delaware, and entertained by ladies
of the first quality, towards whom she behaved herself with so much grace
and majesty, that she confirmed the bright character Captain Smith had
given of her. The whole court was charmed with the decency and grandeur
of her deportment so much, that the poor gentleman, her husband, was
threatened to be called to an account for marrying a princess royal
without the king's consent; though in that king James showed a very
notable piece of kingcraft, for there was no likelihood that Mr. Rolfe,
by marrying Pocahonta, could any way endanger the peace of his dominions;
or that his alliance with the king of Wicomaco could concern the king of
Great-Britain; indeed, we are told, that upon a fair and full
representation of the matter, the king was pleased to be satisfied.
The lady Pocahonta, having been entertained with all manner of respect in
England, was taken ill at Gravesend, where she lay in order to embark for
Virginia; she died there with all the signs of a sincere Christian and
true penitent.
She had one son by Mr. Rolfe, whose posterity are at this day in good
repute in Virginia, and inherit lands by descent from her.
The language of the Indians is lofty, but narrow; the accent and emphasis
of some of their words are great and sweet, as Okorocston, Rancoce,
Oriston, Shakameton, Poquiffin, all names of places, and as sonorous as
any in Attica; then for sweetness they have their _anna_, mother,
_issimus_, brother, _nelapsin_ and _usque oret_, very good, _pone_,
bread, _morridge walk_, a burying-place, _scaw_, a woman, _salop_, a man,
_pappoes_, a child.
The captains acquainted Mr. Carew, that the unfriendly Indians were not
the only enemies he had to fear, for he must expect to encounter with
great dangers and difficulties, as rattle-snakes, horn-snakes,
black-snakes, lions, leopards, bears, wolves, and wild cats. However
this did not dishearten our hero, for he was resolved to attempt
regaining his liberty, let the consequence be what it would. The
captains then gave him a pocket-compass to steer by, a steel and
tinder-box, a bag of cakes, a cheese, and some rum, telling him, he must
leave the three-notched road a little way off, and steer to his left
hand; (in Maryland they distinguish the roads by letters or notches cut
on the trees;) that he must travel by night, and lie concealed in the
day, for forty miles, and then he would come to a part of the country
quite uninhabited; from thence he would enter the Indian country. They
likewise told him, that all the wild beasts were afraid of fire, so that
his best defence would be to strike a light and kindle some sticks
whenever he was apprehensive of being attacked by any of them.
Our hero having received these and some other necessary instructions, and
having returned his generous benefactors many thanks for their kindness,
bidding them farewell with tears, set out on his dangerous journey about
three o'clock in the afternoon. He had not travelled far, before he
began to reflect on his melancholy condition, alone, unarmed,
unacquainted with the way, galled with the heavy yoke, exposed every
moment to the most imminent dangers, and dark tempestuous night
approaching with all its horrors, increased its terrors; his ears were
now assailed with the dismal yells and crying of wild beasts of different
sorts, but, remembering the instructions he had received from the
captains, he soon struck fire, and kindled some sticks, and was obliged
the whole night to swing a fireband round his head; the sight of which
kept the wild beasts from coming near, for, though they often came and
looked at him, yet they soon turned tail again, seeing the fire.
However it was with great joy he saw day-light appear, at first dawn of
which he was quite freed from those troublesome guests; he had nothing to
do but to seek the thickest tree he could find, and, climbing up into it,
he took some refreshment of sleep, which he had great need of, having
travelled hard all night. He afterwards eat sparingly of his cheese and
biscuit, fearing they might not last till he could get a fresh supply,
and then took a very large dram of rum, with which, finding his spirits
much refreshed, and night coming on, he began his journey again,
travelling in the same manner as the preceding night, with a firebrand
whirling round his head. In this manner travelling by night, and
concealing himself by day, he went on four days, when he reached the Blue
Mountains, where he thought himself out of all danger of pursuit, or
being stopped for want of a pass. He now travelled by day, meeting with
great multitudes of buffaloes, black bears, deer, wolves, and wild
turkeys, the latter being so large as to weigh thirty or forty pounds;
none of these creatures offered to attack him; but walking one day on the
side of a small rivulet, almost lost in thought, he was suddenly alarmed
by something he heard plunging into the water, and turning his head to
the side from whence the noise came, he was struck with the sight of a
great white bear, which, being likewise disturbed, raised itself
immediately and made towards him. Our hero now thought there was no way
to escape; however, with great presence of mind, he stepped aside to a
furze bush, and, striking a light with all the haste he could, set it on
fire; at the sight of which the bear, who was now within a very small
distance of him, turned about, and went away roaring hideously.
Some time after this he was comically alarmed by an inoffensive animal;
as he was walking along a deer-track, he chanced to spy a very fine
tortoise-shell box, as he imagined, though he could not conceive how it
could be dropped there; and, thinking he might make good advantage of it
among the Indians, claps it into his pocket; he had not gone far before
he heard a hissing noise, which seemed to be very near; he immediately
thought it to be some venomous snake, and endeavoured to avoid it by
going out of the path he was in; but still the noise seemed to pursue
him; at last looking down, he sees a little ugly black head peeping out
of his pocket, which he found came out of what he had picked up for a
box: he with much ado slips his fingers into his pocket, takes out his
supposed box, and flings it to the ground, when the creature, opening the
upper from the under shell, marched away; this was, as he afterwards
found, no other than a land-tortoise.
He found his journey very often obstructed by rivers and rivulets, which
he was obliged either to wade through or swim over. At length, after
many days' tiresome travel, being grievously galled by his yoke, or
collar, he discovered several tracks of the Indians. Never did more
different passions agitate the breast of any man than did the breast of
our hero at this time; on the one side he was overjoyed at the sight of
the track of any human creature, thinking he should now get rid of his
heavy collar, as well as get some refreshment of provisions, his own
having been exhausted for almost two days past; but he had not pleased
himself long with this reflection before the idea of the barbarous and
unfriendly Indians struck into his mind, for he was quite uncertain
whether the footsteps he discovered might lead him to the good and
friendly Indians, or to those barbarous and inhuman wretches; he now
represented himself as set upon by these, against whom he had no arms to
defend himself, cruelly tormented, and at last slain as a victim in some
of their bloody sacrifices.
It was about the evening when he discovered these footsteps, and he
passed the whole night in this tormenting suspense. Very early in the
morning he discovered five Indians at a distance; his fears represented
them in the most frightful colours; they seemed of a gigantic stature,
that he thought he could perceive their faces to be very flat and broad,
which was the characteristic or mark of the unfriendly Indians. This
struck him with unusual dread, and he now gave himself over for lost,
when he saw they had espied him, and were making towards him: they coming
nearer, he perceived them to be clothed in deer skins, their hair to be
exceeding long, hanging down a great way over their shoulders; and, to
his inexpressible joy, he distinguished they had guns in their hands,
which was a sure sign they were the friendly Indians. This raised his
spirits, and he approached them in a suppliant manner, making signs that
he craved their assistance. The Indians accosted him with clapping their
hands on their heads, and crying _hush me a top_, which in their language
signifies good-morrow; then taking hold of his collar, they repeated one
to another, in broken English, a runaway! a runaway! Presently after
came up two more Indians, one of whom was a person of fine majestic
appearance, whose dress was by far more magnificent than any of the
others. His habit being a most beautiful panther's skin faced with fur:
his hair was adorned with a great variety of fine feathers, and his face
painted with a great many colours. By these marks of distinction, Mr.
Carew supposed him to be their king or prince, and indeed such he was; he
spoke very good English, and accosted him as the others had done before.
He then brought him to the wigwam, which is a name they give their
houses, which are no more than stakes driven into the ground, covered
over with deer or other skins. Here, observing that our hero was
grievously hurt by his collar, this good king immediately set himself
about freeing him from it; but, as he had no proper tool for that
purpose, he was at a great loss how to execute it; but at last, taking
the steel of Mr. Carew's tinder-box, he jagged it into a kind of saw,
with which he cut off his collar, but not without much labour, his
majesty sweating heartily at the work. He then carried him into his own
wigwam, which appeared very handsomely furnished. Here he ordered some
Indian bread, and other refreshments, to be set before Mr. Carew, who ate
very heartily. During this the prince acquainted him his name was George
Lillycraft; that his father was one of those kings who were in England in
the reign of Queen Anne; and then showed him some fine laced clothes,
which were made a present of to him by the late king George of England
(meaning his late majesty king George the First); he expressed a great
affection for his brother kings of England, as he called them, and for
the English nation in general. Soon after came in the queen, dressed in
a short jacket, leading in her hand a young prince, who both repeated the
word runaway twice.
Next day the king presented him to the wisos, or chief men of the town,
who received him with a great deal of civility, and tokens of high
esteem. He ate every day at the king's table, and had a lodging assigned
to him in his wigwam, and grew every day more and more in esteem among
them, being consulted in all matters of difficulty. Thus sudden are the
scenes of life shifted and changed; for a brave man will never despair
under whatsoever misfortunes; for our hero, who but a few weeks before
was treated like a beast of burden, heavily loaded, cruelly whipped,
coarsely fed, and all by the insolence and inhumanity of his own
countrymen, is now seated, in a strange country, with kings and princes,
and consulted by a whole nation.
King Lillycraft, who was a man of very good natural sense, used to
discourse with, and ask Mr. Carew many questions of the customs and
manners of his brother kings in England. Being told one day that the
king of England never stirred abroad without being surrounded with a
great number of armed men, whom he paid for defending him, and fighting
for him, he very simply asked whom he was afraid of? or whether he was
constantly at war with any neighbouring king, who might fall upon him
unawares? Being told to the contrary, he expressed very great surprise,
and could not conceive of what use these armed men were, when the king
had no enemy, adding, when I am at war, my people are my guard, and fight
for me without being paid for it, and would each of them lay down his
life to defend mine; and when I am at peace, I can fear no evil from my
own people, therefore I have no need of armed men about me. Being told
another time that the king of England kept himself generally in his
wigwam, or palace, surrounded by certain officers, who permitted no one
to come near him but by their permission, which was the greatest
difficulty in the world to obtain, and that not a thousandth part of the
people, who lived in the town where the palace was, had ever seen him in
their lives, he turned away from Mr. Carew in a passion, telling him, He
was certain he deceived him, and belied his good brother of England: for
how, added he, can he be the king of a people whom he hath no knowledge
of? or how can he be beloved by his subjects who have never seen him? how
can he redress their grievances, or provide for their wants? how can he
lead his people against their enemies? or how know what his subjects
stand in need of, in the distant parts of the kingdom, if he so seldom
stirs out of his wigwam? Being told that the king of England was
informed of, and transacted all this by means of the officers that were
about him, he replied, It might be so; but if he should ever chance to go
to England, he should talk with his good friend the king upon these
matters, as he could not clearly apprehend how they could be. For my
part, added he, I know and am known by all my subjects. I appear daily
among them, hear their complaints, redress their grievances, and am
acquainted with every place in my kingdom. Being told the people of
England paid their king, yearly, vasts sums out of the profits of their
labour, he laughed, and cried, O poor king! adding, I have often given to
my subjects, but never received any thing from them.
Hunting being the principal employment and diversion of the Indians, at
which they are very expert, Mr. Carew had an opportunity of gratifying,
to the utmost, his taste for this diversion, there scarcely passing a day
but he was a party amongst them at some hunting match or other, and most
generally with the king himself. He was now grown into such great
respect among them, that they offered him a wife out of the principal
families of the place, nearly related to the king; but our hero,
notwithstanding these honours, could not forget his native country, the
love of which glowed within his breast; he had therefore, for some time,
formed the design of leaving them, and, very soon after, found an
opportunity of doing so.
One day, being out a hunting, they chanced to fall in company with some
other Indians, near the river Delaware. When the chase was over, they
sat down to be merry together, and having got some rum amongst them, they
drank pretty freely, and fell to singing and dancing after their country
fashion.
Mr. Carew took this opportunity of slipping away, and, going down to the
river side, seized one of the canoes. Though he was entirely
unacquainted with the method of managing them, he boldly pushed from
shore, landing near Newcastle in Pennsylvania; the place he crossed over
being called Duck's Creek, which communicates with the great Delaware.
Mr. Carew being now got, as it were, among his countrymen again, soon
transformed himself into a quaker: pulling off the button from his hat,
and flapping it on every side, he put on as demure and precise a look, as
if his whole family had been quakers, and he had never seen any other
sort of people. Here, reader, it will be necessary to remark, that, as
our hero is no longer amongst simple honest Indians, neither polite,
lettered, nor deceitful, but among polished people, whose knowledge has
taught them to forget the ways of nature, and to act every thing in
disguise; whose hearts and tongues are as far distant asunder, as the
North from the South pole, and who daily over-reach one another in the
most common occurrences of life; we hope it will be no disgrace to our
hero if among such he appears polished as the best, and puts on a fresh
disguise as often as it suits his convenience.
The first house he went to was a barber's, of whose assistance he had
indeed need enough, not having shaved his beard since he left the ship:
here he told a moving story, saying his name was John Elworth, of
Bristol; that he had been artfully kidnapped by one Samuel Ball, of the
same place, and gone through great hardships in making his escape. The
good barber moved by his tale, willingly lent his assistance to take off
his beard; during the operation, he entered into a good deal of chat,
telling him his father was of Exeter; and, when he went away, gave him a
half-crown bill, and he recommended him to Mr. Wiggil, a quaker of the
same place. Here he told his moving story again, and got a ten-shilling
bill from Mr. Wiggil, with recommendations to the rest of the quakers of
the place, among whom he got a great deal of money. When he took his
leave, he was recommended by them to the quakers of a town called
Castile. Here he found a great deal of favour, and made the best of his
way to Brandywine-Ferry, in which is room enough to lay up the whole
royal navy of England; and from thence to Chester, so called, because the
people who first settled there came for the most part from Cheshire. It
contains above a hundred houses, and a very good road for shipping, the
Delaware, on which it stands, being about three miles over. Here are a
court-house and a prison. This place is also called Upland, and has a
church dedicated to St. Paul, with a numerous congregation of those whom,
exclusive of all other Christians, we call orthodox. Mr. Carew came here
on Sunday, staid all the night, and the next morning he enquired out one
Mrs. Turner, a quaker, who formerly lived at Embercomb, by Minehead, in
Somersetshire; from her he got a bill, and a recommendation to some
quakers at Derby, about five miles further, where she told him he would
find Mr. Whitfield. On hearing this, he set out for Derby; but, before
he reached there, was overtaken by hundreds of people going to hear Mr.
Whitfield preach. Friend, says he to one of them, where are you going so
fast? Hast thou not heard, friend, says the other, the second Christ is
come? He then joined them, and they all proceeded to Derby, where he
found Mr. Whitfield preaching in an orchard, but could not get near
enough to hear his discourse, by reason of the great concourse of people;
however, he seemed to be affected with it, and strictly imitated the
quakers in all their sighs, groans, lifting up of the eyes, &c. Leaving
them, he went to the sign of the ship, and enquiring where Mr. Whitfield
lodged that night, was told at the justice's, who was a miller; he then
asked if he could have a bed there that night, and being told that he
might, he passed the evening very cheerfully.
In the morning he asked for pen, ink, and paper, soon drew up a moving
petition in the name of John Moore, the son of a clergyman, who had been
taken on board the Tiger, Captain Matthews, and carried into the
Havannah, from whence he had got his redemption by means of the governor
of Annapolis; that he was in the most deplorable circumstances, having
nothing to help himself with, and hoped he would commiserate his
condition. Having finished his petition, away he went to the miller's
house, where Mr. Whitfield lodged, and found a hundred people waiting at
the door to speak to that gentleman. Looking narrowly around, he espied
a young lad, whom he found belonged to Mr. Whitfield, and going up to him
very civilly, he begged he would do an unfortunate man the kindness to
present that paper (giving him his petition) to Mr. Whitfield: and as
soon as they perceived him, the quakers pressed round him, one crying,
Pray thee, friend, come and pray by my dear wife; and another, Pray thee,
friend, come and see my dear brother. Mr. Whitfield made his way through
them all, as well as he could, towards Mr. Carew, whom the young lad
pointed out to him. When he came up to him, he kindly said that he was
heartily sorry for his misfortunes, but that we were all liable to them,
that they happened by the will of God, and therefore it was our duty to
submit to them with patience and resignation; then, pulling out his
pocket-book, he gave him three or four pounds of that county paper-money.
Mr. Carew returned him thanks with all the marks of the most lively
gratitude, and Mr. Whitfield wishing him well to England, went away
singing psalms with those that were about him; and we make no doubt but
Mr. Carew joined with them in the melody of the heart for the good
success he had had with Mr. Whitfield.