The _Sea Venture_ which had left England with one hundred and fifty
passengers on June 2, 1609, had not only Sir Thomas Gates aboard, but an
ordinary Englishman named John Rolfe and his wife. The lull after the
storm which wrecked the ship off the Bermuda Isles was such a relief
that they named their baby born there "Bermuda" after the island. She
was baptized by the Reverend Richard Buck, who was to stand by John
Rolfe on many occasions in the future. The burial of the baby was the
next of these. Their sojourn on the healthy islands was a blessing to
most of the refugees, although they were supposed dead by the Jamestown
colonists, few of whom were surviving themselves during their "Starving
Time" that winter and early spring.
Praying only for a safe arrival in Jamestown before long, they looked
only that far ahead. John Rolfe did not anticipate that his wife would
die soon. Sir George Somers did not foresee that he would come to an
inglorious end on this very island many months hence from eating a
surfeit of pig; and Sir Thomas Gates, the first absolute Governor of
Virginia, did not know that his desperate decision on arrival at
Jamestown would nearly end the colony, making it disappear in the
mysterious trail of Roanoke Island, Elizabeth Island and St. George's
Fort.
Resolutely these sanguine refugees saw that boats were built out of
salvaged timbers from the wrecked ship, along with fresh and strong
cedar from the Islands, and they put faith if not wind into the sails of
the aptly named _Patience_ and _Deliverance_.
The forlorn colonists at Jamestown could scarcely believe their eyes as
the stalwart ships came up the river with their castaways a May morning
in 1610. The sixty survivors on the shore were too weak to fall in with
any brave plans at this point, for plague, starvation and Indian enmity
had had their will of them.
Gates landed with high hopes and high orders. He intended to establish a
colony at a higher and healthier spot. He was going to keep looking for
the Roanoke colonists, and yes, for gold, too, until the tottering ruin
of Jamestown appalled him. People had gnawed on molded bread, eaten rats
and snakes, and perhaps corpses. Listening to their tales of woe, he
promised to take them away, for his food would only sustain them all for
sixteen days here. Palisades were torn down, ports opened, gates ripped
from their hinges, the church ruined--and it would have been bitterly
deserted if it had been habitable. Gates declared martial law. The
survivors with their pitiful possessions and small arms were gotten on
board to the militant beating of drums. He saw that the heavier cannon
were buried, and he was himself the last to board the ship, being afraid
that the sullen colonists would set fire to what remained. He considered
himself a good housekeeper, leaving his premises tidy for any who should
come after, never dreaming that that would be of all people--himself.
He had sent the pinnace _Virginia_ to pick up the guard at Point
Comfort. After making six miles, they stopped for the night at Hog
Island. In the morning they had travelled but eight more miles when they
were baffled at sight of the white sails of the _Virginia_, which was
heading toward them with an important message which reversed the course
of western history. Lord Delaware was on his way with one hundred and
fifty men to their rescue, and they must go meekly back to await his
orders. They met this news with bad grace, but followed the directions.
Gates had his company duly standing in arms, and William Strachey, then
Secretary of State, let his colors fall at his lordship's feet, as
Delaware entered from the river that Sunday afternoon, falling on his
knees to pray silently, on the threshold of the fort at the south gate.
He passed on to the church where the Reverend Richard Buck preached.
Delaware was a man who got things done on week days as well as on
Sundays, although he fastidiously kept to his quarters on the ship
after a look about at rotting Jamestown. He got houses mended, having
rails put on leaking roofs, and Indian mats hung over drafty huts. He
dealt with the Indians with short shrift, and he sent to seek gold once
again. Not since John Smith's day had such an efficient leader hustled
lazier men.
The chapel was made the most exalted place of worship yet seen over
here. Pews, pulpit, and chancel were built of pungent cedar, and the
deeper fragrance of fresh flowers cheered the colonists. The Communion
table was built of walnut. Fifty men in bright red livery sat on either
side of Delaware, or behind him, as he attended services. Two preachers
took turns for two services on Sundays and for another on Thursday. Two
bells in the west end of the chapel called all to prayer daily at ten
and at four. Everybody and everything seemed on the mend but his
lordship himself.
He did not have the stamina to endure this unhealthy climate. The flux,
cramp, gout, scurvy and general debility sickened him so that he fled to
the Island of Nevis for the cure, wanting to prescribe for himself in as
modern and salubrious a manner as he had for the ailing colony. His cure
was due to be sunshine, hot baths, balmy climate, oranges and lemons, a
far cry from any at poor Jamestown, but winds and waves swept him to
London sooner than he had planned.
He was briefly succeeded by Sir Thomas Dale, a grim disciplinarian. Dale
was disgusted with the carefree bowling in the streets. He would have
been more so a few years back had he seen the naked Pocahontas turning
cart-wheels in these streets while the serving boys whirled in her
trail, never quite keeping up with her--nor would he have liked the tall
tobacco growing rampant in these streets, a few years hence at a time
when food crops were needed. Dale believed in all work and no
play--never mind dull boys. Houses, the storehouse, and the church
needed repairs. Besides he ordered new buildings: a stable, a munition
house, a powder house, fishhouse, a barn, a smith's forge, a clean well,
and a wharf for landing goods.
He also built up two new towns. Bermuda City he named for the haven
which the _Sea Venture_ survivors had appreciated after the tempest.
After Gates became governor in 1611, Dale preferred to live in
Henricopolis, which was situated on a higher and drier site than
Jamestown enjoyed. It had three streets of well-framed houses, several
having brick first stories. They had gardens and orchards, and more
space than those in Jamestown.
By Christmas there was a pretty street in Jamestown itself which had a
London look. There were "two fair rows of framed timber houses with
upper garrets corn-loft high." Some had plaster on the lower framing and
some weather boarding, while still others had shingle tiles which were
hung from the battens across the posts. There was a blockhouse outside
of town, the town itself being enclosed with a palisade.
Sir Thomas Gates who had arrived again in August of 1611 with six
vessels and three hundred men, replacing Dale, had the "Country House"
for governors built. It had a commanding view of the river, outside of
the town limits.
Fine as these buildings were, they were constantly needing repair. A
jealous Spanish spy declared in 1613 that the whole settlement could be
kicked over. Spanish spies had been captured outside of Jamestown in
1611 and were kept there for several years.
Until 1612 Sir Thomas Smith, who was no kin of John, but who gave
prestige to the name, being the most powerful merchant in London, had
managed the colony by remote control, along with his docile council in
England. Then a joint stock company began, being composed of the "court
party" which urged martial law and the "patriot party." Sir Thomas Smith
gradually veered from the patriot to the court party, leaving the former
to brilliant Sir Edwin Sandys.
Samuel Argall, a cousin of Thomas Smith, had landed with Delaware
earlier. In 1613 he was sent to capture fifteen Frenchmen who had left
Nova Scotia to try a settlement in Mount Desert, Maine, and he brought
them as prisoners to Jamestown.
That same year Argall became a frequent figure in the Pocahontas story.
V
Pocahontas, whose frantic questions had to be hushed with the lie that
Smith was no more, now shunned the colony, and her pent-up adoration
became a resentment against his people. It was as if he had been adopted
into her tribe as well as her heart. A red woman, when she has given her
heart, does not take it back. Her moods were more dark than bright,
although with the braves and girls her own age she smiled and danced
once in a while, like sunlight that would out in darkest woods at noon.
A lovely maiden cannot remain woebegone too long, and Powhatan's people,
especially those eager for his favor, did their merriest to scatter her
dark moods.
She was visiting in the house of Chief Japazaws when he made a deal with
the English of which she was not aware. Captain Argall, whose ship was
anchored nearby, had dangled a copper kettle so temptingly in front of
Japazaws and his greedy squaw that they could not wait until it spewed
steam on their hearth. Captain Argall wanted Pocahontas as a hostage to
exchange for English prisoners whom Powhatan had detained too long. That
would be easy, agreed Japazaws, for she used to like the English and was
grieving even now for their John Smith. After some pouting, she would be
happy as a lark sailing down the river with the English in their great
canoe.
"I have never been on a ship in my life," the artful squaw begged her
spouse. "Captain said he would show it to me."
"Go where you like," shrugged Japazaws.
"Why don't you?" added Pocahontas indifferently.
"Not by myself--the only woman! Besides, I do not know those palefaces.
You used to know them right well, Pocahontas. Come along."
Pocahontas complied, but she appeared listless as she went over the ship
while the squaw squealed with delight at everything she saw. At dinner
Pocahontas did not notice that drunken Japazaws pressed gleefully on
Argall's toes. "She's as good as yours."
Afterwards she was looking over the guns in the gun-room, and thinking
how Powhatan would have coveted them, when she was told that the chief
and his squaw had skipped off of the ship, guiltily swinging their
kettle between them.
When she found herself a prisoner, she pulled such a long face, that the
English gentlemen felt quite contrite, and every man of them henceforth
did his best to cheer her, especially John Rolfe.
John Rolfe was not beholden to the Company for bringing him here, and he
carried his own weight in all general endeavors, as well as in his
personal projects. He was a far cry from the pampered aristocrats whose
idling and futile digging for fool gold had annoyed Captain John Smith.
He hailed from the sturdy British farming class, which could come
through a Bermuda ship-wreck or a Jamestown disaster in that time, as
well as they could a Dunkirk or a "blitz" in the twentieth century.
Having arrived with Gates in a prudently salvaged ship, he left with
Gates when the Jamestown outpost seemed untenable. He also returned with
Gates at Delaware's reinforcement. He, for one, determined to make a go
of it, although after his wife's death he was the loneliest of all the
bachelor colonists. He sublimated his grief in hard work, and soon in a
shrewd project which was to be of value to the colony as well as to his
personal fortunes.
He knew instinctively the wisdom of the dying farmer who told his sons
that they could dig for their heritage and treasure in the lands on
which they lived. If others had heeded such a fable, they would have
warmed on the trail of wealth for the colony. In Rolfe's case this was
not merely profitable production of the land, but of the specific and
prime crop for Virginia--tobacco. He put his finger on the business
pulse of the new world. Here was the pot of gold at the foot of
Columbus's rainbow; here was the gold for which the laziest colonists
had wasted time prospecting elsewhere. For most of the next two
centuries tobacco would be virtually coin of the realm. With it a man
would pay the preacher, buy a wife, set her up in fine style, and then
be taxed according to the degree of that style, paying in tobacco.
Rolfe was the first tobacconist. In 1610 an excellent plant was imported
from Trinidad. Later, another from Venezuela was transported here, and
cross-breeding was tried. He had seeds from Bermuda, and he was willing
to learn from Indians about what they knew of the soil, and its
cultivation. Like a good cook he savored his own product. He sensed that
the Indians had none of the earnest industry of his own thrifty family
who made the most of every tended acre in England, for they craved only
so-so tobacco for their own pipes. This "apooke" was harsh, and English
smokers preferred the West Indies product. He was going to improve it
until England clamored for its import. Tobacco was a better crop than
corn, a more valuable export than mica, lumber, iron, pitch, tar, walnut
or cedar. It was more profitable than the mulberry trees which were
supposed to produce silk. Rats ate the silk worms, and neither foreign
teachers nor statutes could make the silk business succeed. The Glass
House never satisfied investors. Yes, tobacco was the thing, and he was
keenly on its scent. Within two years he and his neighbors were sending
their product to England.
Meanwhile he "looked around," and was one of those Johns who could speak
for himself. He could not do without a woman, any more than John Smith
could have done with one. When he saw the slim and pensive prisoner,
Pocahontas, he was susceptible at first glance, although he admitted
that there were plenty of Christians more pleasing to the eye, and he
tried to convince himself that he was more concerned for her soul than
for her heart. Like an eighteen-year-old schoolgirl she was learning the
language and the catechism from the Reverend Alexander Whitaker, and as
a devout layman Rolfe was happy to enlighten her.
Three months after she had been taken as a hostage Powhatan did return
the seven Englishmen and three muskets and he promised five hundred
bushels of corn. The English did not want to give Pocahontas up until
they got more arms from Powhatan, and Rolfe and Whitaker did not want to
surrender her until they were sure of her becoming the first convert on
this side of the world.
Rolfe craved her in marriage with an intensity that troubled his mind no
less than his heart, and his conscience was more sorely beset than
either, for no one else had risked marriage with the alien race, so why
should he of all people, the most religious and ambitious man in the
lot? His course seemed brave to him--"to sweep and make clean the path
wherein I walk, from all suspicions and doubts." He wrote to Governor
Dale about the "grounds and principal agitations which thus should
provoke me to be in love."
He still had no compunctions about being impure. "Nor am I in so
desperate an estate that I regard not what becometh of me, nor am I out
of hope one day to see my country, not so void of friends, nor mean in
birth, but there to obtain a match to my great content." Rolfe believed
that he was not "led with unbridled desire of carnal affection; but for
the good of this plantation; for the honor of our country; for the glory
of God; for my own salvation; and for the converting to the true
knowledge of God and Jesus Christ, an unbelieving creature, namely
Pocahontas, to whom my heart is and best thoughts are, and have a long
time been so entangled, and inthralled in so intricate a labyrinth, that
I was ever awearied to unwind myself thereout."
Rolfe confessed his heart's erring with the local preacher as well as
the Governor. Both surprised him by thinking it a good thing. Governor
Dale thought it would be a love match between the races.
The preacher said: "Don't worry about being unequally yoken with an
unbeliever. That one is easy. Convert the heathan." He thought that it
would be a feather in his cap to baptize, and later to marry the girl to
Rolfe, and not too flamboyant a feather in Rolfe's to marry her.
Powhatan would be immensely pleased, although he would never admit it.
All these doubts that had tormented the distraught John made him more
bewilderingly in love with this dusky sweetheart. It was April, and
redbud blushed through the forest, promising another spring. What that
dogwood drifted tardily along in its trail, pure white, and sure of
itself? For most men dogwood is synonymous of spring in Virginia, but to
him redbud bloomed first, and the more persuasively of spring. To John
Rolfe, this comely maid with gentler manners than habitual in her race,
yet with warm bloom belonging to this land and this moment, seemed
enchanting.
As for Pocahontas, having grieved for that other John two winters, how
could she think of another? She had been immature then and destiny had
moved him beyond her reach, indeed if he had ever been within it. This
man, too, had known grief. The English, unlike Indian men, desired and
valued but one woman. There was an empty place in his life now that she
would fill, for she too was lonely.
Sir Thomas Dale had sailed up the York River with Captain Argall, hoping
to retrieve arms from Powhatan, but without success. John Rolfe was now
sent to deal with Powhatan but he got no closer to him than his brother,
Opechancanough.
While they were arguing with the Indians, John Rolfe's friend, Ralph
Hamor, handed Rolfe's long letter to Dale explaining his confusing love
for the Indian princess. Meanwhile Pocahontas went ashore and told a few
choice Indians of her new romance. She said that if her father had loved
her, he would value her more than old swords and axes. Therefore she
would live instead with the English, who loved her. If there had been a
flag for bold romance it should have whipped in the breeze along the
James River, together with the red cross of St. George at the masthead.
Now the fanfaron was of trumpets, drums, guns, and clapping hands, but
soon wedding-bells would call the tune.
Pocahontas considered herself a grown woman now, and free to go her own
way. This marriage would be an omen of peace, a union of peoples as well
as persons. She anticipated it happily, knowing that it would be an
exciting affair for her own people, and a nostalgic one for the
colonists, who had seen but little romance here. She was baptized and
given the Christian name of "Rebecca" the week before the nuptials.
It was as she surmised. Powhatan was gratified and he could scarcely
keep from showing it, but he did not deign to come to Jamestown for such
a foreign ceremony. If he had not gone to get himself crowned, why
should he go to see his daughter married? Nevertheless, he sent his
brother Apachisco to represent him, for Opechancanough would not flatter
the English by attending, eager as he was to see the goings-on. Powhatan
also sent two of his sons and some other young people to participate,
and these added a colorful note to the scene.
The wedding itself was the most paintable scene yet staged in the
wilderness, and an idealistic picture of it has hung in American homes
ever since. In the wooden church stood guests of international prestige.
The picture shows Don Diego de Molina, a Spanish grandee and Argall's
French prisoners. Governor Dale, ranking highest, wore full regalia:
doublet, ballooning breeches, and stockings with ribbon at the knee. The
strange and haunting romance of the scene lingers with those not there,
for Pocahontas herself was the most romantic figure in American history.
Her sleek black hair dropped upon an Indian mantle which was embroidered
in the native fashion, but the dress was of demure white muslin. Her
tawny skin had a ruddy glow, and her eyes, as they met Rolfe's showed
shining trust, for they intended to live together "civilly and
lovingly."
The couple went to live at Varina which was named for the strain of
tobacco which Rolfe raised there. He was the sort of bridegroom, who
soon forgot the honeymoon, and measured his love in support and proud
surroundings.
Governor Dale, impressed with their success, sent an emissary to
Powhatan. His house was surrounded by two hundred bowmen, but he offered
a friendly pipe of peace, and asked why the messenger did not wear the
pearl chain, due to be worn by any messenger between the two leaders.
"How is my brother?" he asked. "How do my daughter and her husband live,
love and like?"
"Your brother is well, and your daughter is so contented that she would
not live again with you." Answering why he had come, the messenger said:
"Sir Thomas Dale hath sent you two pieces of copper, five strings of
blue and white beads, five wooden combs, two fish-hooks, a pair of
knives, and when you will send for it, he will give you a grindstone."
Glad to live on their own ample acres provided by Powhatan, but left to
themselves, the couple were happy and prosperous. Pocahontas swam,
fished, hunted, and roamed her woods. Housekeeping was easier for her
than for other squaws, for she had not only a solicitous and helpful
husband, but English household goods. Their son Thomas was born in 1615,
and he too thrived here.
After a while she became piqued with her preoccupied spouse, who kept
planting, and improving tobacco crops, having advanced beyond the rugged
Indian agriculture which she had taught him. Indians planted merely
enough for their own pipes, and those of a circle of friends, while John
Rolfe wanted a bigger and better crop each year. The seedlings were
transplanted, thinned and cured as Pocahontas had taught but with added
pains that made the product sweet rather than bitter. Soon hogsheads of
tobacco were being rolled off his wharf for shipment to England, which
rewarded him for his thrifty work. When he got coin of the realm in
exchange, he intended to heap it in her aproned lap, but the ex-Princess
was tired of aprons, and craved something else besides coin out of
England.
If tobacco of the Rolfe plantation rolled the seas, why not its charming
young mistress, who was eager to see the land of John Smith? As she
hoped, Sir Thomas Dale invited the Rolfes to come along on his trip,
thinking they would make a fine advertisement for the London Company.
Just in case they looked too fine, he also took along a savage troop.
Powhatan was more dubious about this than he had been about the
marriage, wanting to keep his bold daughter where he could keep an eye
on her. But finally he consented, provided that she have several of her
own along, and her sister, her brother-in-law Tacomoco, and
Uttamatomakkin. Powhatan told this man to make notches on sticks for
every white he saw over there. He was not too hospitable a host over on
this side, and he would like to get an idea of how many guests were to
be expected in his western world, just in case there was a wholesale
exodus from England.