no desire to go on board the vessel? This was indeed a problem, and,
after thinking the matter over for some time, he decided that he would
make use of a little strategy in order to gain his end. So he offered
an old Indian, called Japazaws, the irresistible bribe of a copper
kettle, if he would bring Pocahontas to the ship. This was too much
for the old Indian to withstand. With the aid of his wife, who begged
her husband to allow her to go aboard, he managed to get Pocahontas
to visit the anchored vessel, an accomplishment which was effected by
appealing to the tender heart of the Indian girl, who was so moved
to pity when she saw Japazaws refuse to take his wife aboard unless
she had some female with her, that she offered to accompany her to
the English ship. The old Indian and his wife were highly pleased at
the success of their stratagem; so much so, that all through dinner
they kept treading on the toes of Captain Argall and laughing aloud.
But after supper the Captain sent Pocahontas to the gun room while
he pretended to have a private conversation with Japazaws. He soon
recalled the Indian Princess and told her that she must remain with him
and that she could not again see her father, Powhatan, until she had
effected a peace between his noble sire and the English. Japazaws and
his wife immediately set up a great howling and crying, but Pocahontas
was exceedingly pensive and downcast. She even shed a few tears as the
old people who had betrayed her were rowed to shore, happy, smiling,
and holding tightly their copper kettle and other trinkets which the
witty Captain had given them.
Soon afterwards the English sent an Indian messenger to Powhatan
and informed him that his dear daughter Pocahontas was a prisoner,
and that, if he would send home the Englishmen whom he had detained
in slavery with such arms and tools as his subjects had stolen, and
also a great quantity of corn, then his daughter would be restored
to him; otherwise she would be kept and treated with kindness and
consideration. Powhatan loved his daughter dearly, but he apparently
had still greater love for the English weapons that he possessed, for,
although he replied that he would perform the conditions laid down by
the English so that he might regain his daughter, he did not do so, and
it was a very long time before anything was heard of him.
After three months of silence seven Englishmen were sent to the
Governor of Jamestown, three muskets, a broad-axe, a whip-saw, and a
canoe full of corn, and, accompanying them was a message to the effect
that if Pocahontas were returned, a large quantity of corn would be
dispatched to the Colonists. But this did not entirely meet with the
approval of Argall.
"Your daughter shall be well used, but we cannot believe that the
rest of our arms are either lost or stolen from you, and, therefore,
till you send them we will keep Pocahontas with us," said he to the
emissaries.
To this answer the sagacious Powhatan did not reply, and it was a long
time before anything was again heard of him. Finally, as he remained
silent for such a length of time, Sir Thomas Dale, with one hundred
and fifty men, embarked in the Colonists' vessels for a visit to the
Emperor. Pocahontas was taken along, and when the party sailed up the
York River, Powhatan was not to be found, while those followers of his
who did appear received them with scornful threats, taunts, and open
hostility. The English replied with musket shots, and, after a sharp
fight, some of the Indian houses were burned to the ground.
This angered Powhatan greatly, and when they asked why it had been
done, the English answered by asking why they had shot at them with
their arrows. To this the savage replied that they had meant no harm,
that they were the white man's friends, and that the blame lay upon
some straggling savage. A peace was, therefore, declared and messengers
were sent to Powhatan in the persons of Mrs. John Rolfe and Mrs.
Sparks, who were kindly received and hospitably entertained, but were
not admitted to the great Sachem's presence. Instead, his brother
Opechancanough saw them and promised to do the best that he could to
persuade Powhatan to negotiate a treaty, and that "all might be well."
This was slight satisfaction indeed, but, as it was now April and time
to sow corn, the English were obliged to return to Jamestown.
Pocahontas went with them with great unwillingness and not without
tears. For a year she was a prisoner at Jamestown, and, as her feelings
had always been warm for the white strangers, they treated her with the
greatest friendliness and kindness. She was now about eighteen years
of age, with an oval, pleasant, interesting face, large black eyes and
straight, black hair. Mr. John Rolfe--a young Colonist of honesty and
purpose--took a great interest in her, and, in the endeavor to convert
her to Christianity, fell in love with this sweet and simple Indian
Princess. Pocahontas adopted Christianity, and, when marriage was
suggested by good John Rolfe, readily accepted his proposal. Powhatan,
himself, seemed to be well pleased with the match when informed of it,
and within ten days of this announcement an old Uncle of Pocahontas
and two of her brothers arrived at Jamestown as deputies from Powhatan
to witness the marriage of his daughter and to show the amiability of
the father. Pocahontas was first baptized, was christened Rebbeca,
and, as she was a King's daughter, was known sometimes thereafter as
the Lady Rebbeca, sometimes as the Lady Pocahontas. The ceremony took
place about April the first, 1618. In the little Colonial Church at
Jamestown, with its wide-open windows, the cedar pews, and its plainly
hewed pulpit, with a canoe-like front, the copper-hued Princess was
united in marriage to John Rolfe, while Colonists and three Indians
looked on in solemn but cheerful silence, amid the scent of wild
flowers, the trilling of birds, and the soft wind-gusts from the river.
From now on friendly intercourse and trade was re-established with
Powhatan and his people. Thus the marriage was of great import
to the Colonists, for it relieved them from worry and alarm. And
in another way, also, the marriage of this sweet Indian maiden
benefitted the colony, for the nearest neighbors of the English--the
Chickahominys--were powerful, free from the yoke of Powhatan, and had
taken advantage of the feud between the Colonists and the Great Sachem
to keep independent of both. Now they began to have doubts of their own
liberty, when the English were at peace with Powhatan, so they sent a
deputation to Sir Thomas Dale, and concluded a treaty with him, to the
effect that they would furnish three hundred men in case of a Spanish
attack upon the Colony, bring a tribute of corn at harvest time (for
which they were to receive payments in hatchets) and that each of the
eight of their chief men, who were to see to the performance of this
treaty, should have a red coat and a copper chain with the picture of
King James upon it, and be called the King's noblemen.
The marriage of the good Pocahontas to John Rolfe seems to have put
an end to aggressive interference with the Colonists on the part of
Powhatan. From that moment until his death, a few years later, Indian
warfare was at an end, and serious difficulty between the white
settlers and the savages did not again break out until the reign of
Opechancanough, King of Pamunkies, and Powhatan's successor. The Indian
tribes are democracies and he who rules must acquire and sustain his
influence by his absolute ability and energy. The head Sachem had to
be brave, hardy, patient, indefatigable, and had to show talents for
controlling the fortunes and commanding the respect of the community
which he governed. Powhatan had every requisite for success, and
Opechancanough, who succeeded him, possessed the same characteristics.
Numerous sons of the great chief could have stepped into his shoes,
had they had sufficient ability to do so.
Powhatan exacted implicit obedience from his subjects, and, as an old
writer says, "His will was law and had to be obeyed." His followers
esteemed him not only as a king, but as half a God. What he commanded
they dare not disobey in the least. At his feet they presented whatever
he gave orders for, and, at the least frown of his brow their great
spirits trembled for fear. He possessed great tact and diplomacy,
and his long and artful conversations with Captain Smith in order to
gain time; the promptness with which he refused the proposal to march
with the English against the Monocans; and his refusal to listen to
the proposal of two German deserters who fled to him from Jamestown
with the offer of bringing Captain Smith to him securely bound; shows
him to have been a man of no small honesty. To the Germans he replied
that, "Men who betrayed their captain would betray their emperor," and
forthwith ordered the scoundrels to be dispatched with war clubs.
It is on record that no acts of thieving or aggression against the
white settlers at Jamestown were done by the Powhatans, until Smith,
driven to use aggression upon his own part because starvation stared
him in the face, intimidated the Indians by a show of armed force,
and made them give him boatloads of corn by threatening an attack
unless they delivered the much-needed provisions. From then on the
Indians became more suspicious of the whites, more aggressive, and more
troublesome. There is no doubt that the more hot-headed spirits would
have openly attacked the settlers on more than one occasion, had not
Powhatan's restraining voice held them in check. At the beginning of
the settlement at Jamestown the savages could have put an end to every
white man in Virginia had they so wished and had Powhatan so ordered.
But these Indians met the whites peaceably, gave them, at first,
plenty of provisions, and not until they appreciated that the men with
"thundering-sticks" (muskets) had come to remain among them and to
gradually despoil them of their land, did they show that resentment,
vindictiveness, or cruelty, which afterwards characterized their
actions toward the settlers. And, as has always occurred, the red men
gave way before the all-compelling advance of the whites.
When Sir Thomas Dale, who had been governor of Virginia for five
years, left for England, he took with him Pocahontas, John Rolfe--her
husband--and Tomocomo, one of Powhatan's chief men, who had been
told by the Emperor to count the people of England and give him an
exact idea of their strength. The Great Indian Emperor had a strong
suspicion, also, that England had no corn or lumber, because great
shiploads of both these commodities continually left the James River
for the Mother Country, and so Tomocomo was requested to observe
whether or no the white men had trees or grain fields. The vessel
reached Plymouth on June 12th, 1616, and, on leaving the vessel,
Tomocomo prepared a long stick upon which he was to cut a notch
whenever he saw a man. He kept this up for a day and then said, "Ugh!
Ugh! Too many! Stick not long enough." He also saw that England was
not lacking in either lumber or grain fields.
The popular interest in Pocahontas was very great. Persons followed
her about for hours, and crowds attended her every appearance. She
was presented at Court to King James Ist, and his Queen, and made a
most satisfactory impression; for all were charmed by her kindness,
simplicity, and sweetness of manner. But the noise, confusion and smoke
of London tired the timid Indian girl, so she was moved to Brentford,
where Captain John Smith--who had returned to England because of a
wound--went to see her very often and talked to her of Virginia, of
Powhatan, and of the great sweeping waters of the Chesapeake Bay. It
could be easily seen that the kind-hearted Princess was homesick. After
the birth of a son, whom they christened Thomas Rolfe, she longed to
return to her native land and to once more see her people, her father,
and the waving cornfields of the Powhatans, the Potomacs and the
Pamunkies. So preparations were made for her journey. She accompanied
her husband to Gravesend where a vessel was being fitted for Virginia,
but, catching a severe cold, she died on the very eve of her departure,
and at the early age of twenty-two. No one showed more sorrow at her
unexpected demise than did the gallant Captain Smith whom she had
saved, whose followers she had often warned of impending danger, and
whose kind intervention in behalf of the starving Colonists had, on
many occasions, moved the fierce distrust of Powhatan to compassion and
to concessions of the life-sustaining and much needed corn.
One year later, in 1618, her father--the Great Powhatan--also went
to "the happy hunting grounds," as the Indian says of those who have
departed to another world. Peace reigned in Virginia; his own tribe was
on friendly terms with both the neighboring Indians and with the white
settlers, who were gradually taking possession of plantations upon
the James; his cornfields were being well tilled; and his people were
contented and happy. As a warrior he undoubtedly had been of superior
mettle in his youth, for without this he could never have arisen to
the position which he held. As a counsellor, director, and advisor of
the destinies of his people, the fact that he kept them contented,
rich, and prosperous, is sufficient tribute to his ability as a great
Sachem. His dealings with the English were not treacherous, save
where he expected aggression on the part of the whites; and honesty,
integrity and intellectuality governed his words and public utterances.
For an Indian he was notable, and, had he been brought up in the same
civilization and refinement which surrounded the white invaders of his
territory, there is no doubt that he would have been as much respected
by the first settlers at Jamestown as he was by his own people, who
gave full credit to the talents of any man of superior ability. His
self-command and chivalrous courtesy were quite worthy of the best of
Englishmen, and thus his title to greatness is secure.
OPECHANCANOUGH:
THE SCOURGE OF VIRGINIA
Sir George Yeardley, Governor of the Virginia Colony in 1616,
stood before the door of his cabin at Jamestown, busily engaged in
conversation with a stout yeoman, who was clad in rough clothes, with a
breastplate upon his chest, and a round iron helmet upon his head.
"We are in need of corn, Captain Brown," said he, "and we must, as
heretofore, collect it from the Indians."
"But they have refused to give it to us," answered his military
companion. "They are growing insolent and disrespectful."
"Have you tried Opechancanough?"
"Yea, and he had put me off with smiles and grimaces."
"Have you tried the Chickahominies?"
"Yea, and they have refused, point blank, to aid us."
"Then we must collect it by force or we shall starve. Therefore gather
one hundred soldiers. We will march upon them tomorrow, and if they
will stand, we will give them a right smart drubbing. At any rate, corn
we must have and corn we shall get."
Next morning a force of soldiers marched out from the stockade and soon
filled the many canoes, near by, by means of which they were carried
up the river. They were armed with long swords, muskets, and knives.
Their bullet pouches were well filled, their breastplates were newly
polished, and the sun gleamed from their shining helmets and steel
weapons. They laughed and chatted gayly, for they knew that the affair
could have but one outcome, and that would be in their favor.
After a merry journey, the homes of the Chickahominies were seen in the
distance, and, forming for the assault, the soldiers were soon beset
by hundreds of painted warriors, whose yelping and screeching sounded
wildly through the leafy thickets. "You dare not come on," cried one
of the braves who had learned to speak English upon his visits to
Jamestown, and as he spoke he fired an arrow at the oncoming whites,
which struck one of the men full in the breastplate. "On, on," shouted
Sir George Yeardley. "Give these red devils a lesson which they will
not soon forget. Move cautiously, my men, and do not charge among these
wild fellows until I give the signal." So, carefully and steadily, the
troops moved forward in regular alignment, firing at intervals, and
occasionally striking one of the screeching, jumping Indians with a
bullet. They soon drove them beyond the village, seized enough corn
to satisfy their needs, and turning toward home, beat a safe and slow
retreat through the forest, being repeatedly fired upon by the savages.
As they neared Jamestown, Opechancanough--the younger brother of
Powhatan--met them in the forest. He had succeeded to the position of
Chief Sachem which his relative had held before him, and was apparently
upon as friendly terms with the whites as his honored brother had
been. With much show of warm friendship, he approached the leader of
this successful foraging party, and, bending to the ground, said:
"You now have been fighting with the Chickahominies. I see that you
have gathered much corn. You will need to make peace with them, now,
or there will be much fighting. Ugh! Ugh! Let me make peace with these
people for you. They are a great nation. They can do you much harm. Let
me see that the peace pipe is smoked between you."
"Your suggestion is a good one," answered Yeardley. "I shall think it
over," and motioning for his men to proceed, they were soon on their
way to Jamestown.
Not many days after this, Opechancanough--with Yeardley's consent--went
to the Chickahominies to secure a peace. He pretended that he had used
great pains and solicitation to secure this, and so impressed this fact
upon these Indians, that they proclaimed him king of their nation, and
flocked from all sides with beads and copper presents to give to the
new Sachem. From this time on the brother of Powhatan was content to be
called the King of Chickahominy, and thus--of their own free will--a
brave and resolute people came to be his subjects. For many years they
had made a successful resistance to all attacks of other Indian tribes,
and had frequently given the English a stout fight.
Opechancanough saw that the whites were increasing in Virginia in
alarming proportions, and in his heart began to smoulder a longing to
drive them out of the country of his forefathers. He was polite and
civil to the settlers whenever he saw them, and no one could tell by
talking to him that he meditated any attack upon the Colonists, but
he was brooding over the situation at all times, and was determined
that, when the time was ripe, he would take upon himself the duty of
expelling the English from Virginian soil. No better preparation for
war could have been made on his part than he effected when he secured
the submission of the Chickahominies to his rule. It has even been
thought that he, himself, stirred them up to open rebellion when the
English had demanded corn from them, so that his own influence over
them would be greater. For they knew of his hostile feelings towards
the whites, and marvelled, when they appreciated that he could still be
on such friendly terms with them that he was admitted to their councils.
In 1618 these Indians murdered several settlers, and although
Opechancanough was asked to give satisfaction, he did not do so. He
was requested to send in the heads of the offenders as a proof that
they had met the fate which was due them, but although he promised
to acquiesce to this demand, the English waited for months, and no
word came from him. Thus a few of the more cautious of the Colonists
began to fear that trouble was brewing with the politic, shrewd, and
diplomatic King of the Chickahominies.
These fears had no evidence of being well grounded, from the actions of
Opechancanough, for the artful Chieftain gave the English no open cause
of offense, or any evidence of hostility. It is true that the white men
suspected treachery, for one of the Jamestown Colonists writes, in
1620, "Now Opechancanough will not come to treat with us which causes
us to greatly suspect his former promises that he is friendly to us
and to our interests." But this slight uneasiness was soon forgotten,
for when Sir Francis Wyatt succeeded Governor Yeardley a few years
later messengers were sent to the Chief of the Chickahominies, and he
received them with kindness, expressed the hope that the new President
would have a pleasant time in Virginia, and renewed his former league
with the colony, with apparent cheerfulness.
"I am much pleased to hear that the English are inhabiting this
country," said he to one of the messengers, "and I think it would be
well if some of your white families would settle among my people, and
some of my Indians should settle at Jamestown. I confess that my own
religion is not as perfect as that of you English, and I shall be glad
to be baptized into the Christian faith. God loves you whites better
than he does the red men, and he has given you knowledge of guns which
spit fire, which we have never had. In proof of my love for my white
brothers I shall give you guides to show you to rich mines far up the
river, where you can get precious metals to send to your Mother Country
in exchange for sheep, oxen, and provisions."
The English were naturally delighted with such talk, and, without the
least suspicion that this wily Sachem was plotting murder in his heart,
sent some of their best men to him to be guided to the mines. While
they were away upon this expedition, Opechancanough dispatched a few
of his followers to the eastern shore of the Chesapeake Bay to secure
a quantity of poisonous herbs which grew there and which he wished to
use in getting rid of the English. "We would know your feelings towards
these whites," said his ambassadors to the red inhabitants of this
country. "Are you friendly to these English invaders, or would you care
to see them exterminated?"
"We are friendly. We need their trade. They do not harm us, nor do we
intend to harm them," answered the spokesman of the Indians of the
eastern shore.
"But they will soon take all the land which you have inherited from
your forefathers, and will drive you into the sea. Come, join with us
in exterminating these white invaders."
"No, no. We will remain at peace," said the men of the eastern shore,
and so there was no hope of their aid in the insurrection which
Opechancanough was planning. The storm was slowly gathering, and it
was to soon burst upon the unsuspecting settlers like the tempestuous
current of Niagara.
The white settlers had taken up plantations over a vast area of
land, and some of them had farms at a considerable distance from the
river, from each other, and from the stockade at Jamestown. Here, in
fancied peace and seclusion, they tilled the soil, grew corn, wheat,
and tobacco, and began to prosper in the wilderness. Their women and
children were with them, the rough-hewn barns were full of cows,
horses, and sheep, while--piled near their log houses--the ploughs and
other imported implements of agriculture showed that the civilization
of the whites was soon to bend the wilderness to its will, and make
the virgin soil produce. There was no suspicion of an Indian attack.
The red men loitered lazily about the cabins of the settlers, played
with the dogs, slept in the sun, and bartered a few skins, which they
had trapped, for grain and provisions. Apparently there was no thought
or idea of violence. Opechancanough was friendly; his warriors were
busy with fishing and hunting; and peace breathed its security over the
soil of Virginia.
But the tempest of hatred and revenge, which had been gathering since
the death of Powhatan, was to now break upon the devoted colony.
Hiding his true intentions behind an aspect of friendliness and
kindness, Opechancanough had made every preparation to exterminate
the Colonists from England. He had silently passed the word to his
warriors to make an attack upon the settlements upon the twenty-second
day of March, 1622, and so carefully was the secret kept that not a
word of the terrible news escaped to warn the defenseless whites.
The various tribes, who banded themselves together for the attack,
were stationed in the vicinity of several places where an advance
against the settlements would be easy and swift. They were directed
by Opechancanough to march with all speed to these stations--the day
before the massacre--and, although the braves had to walk for great
distances through a dense forest (guided only by the stars and moon),
not a single straggler deserted the ranks of the Indians, nor did a
single mistake occur. One by one--in single file--the warriors silently
passed through the Virginian thickets, and, halting at short distances
from the settlements, waited in the underbrush for the signal to
advance.