While away from Virginia Smith had kept up with its happenings, if
Virginia had not of his own. He kept talking it up with missionary
fervor as a place of settlement. "The mildness of the air, the fertility
of the soil, and the situation of the rivers are so propitious to the
nature and the use of man as no place is more convenient for pleasure,
profit and man's sustenance." In England he could chuckle at the
complaints against other leaders. Since he had been blamed for rigid
discipline, he was amused at Dale's martial law. The death penalty was
given for telling lies, blasphemy, gaming or even picking a flower in
another's garden, or in one's own if on the Sabbath. Failing to attend
church or trade with the Indians was as severely punished, but lesser
offenses got merely whipping or mutilation. He could have told them that
a fine gentleman such as Delaware would not stick it out over there. It
seemed to him that neither he nor his men had had a fair chance in
Virginia, for after two years of toil and trials, they had no gold,
silver, nor quantity of fur, tar, pitch and hemp, and little glass. Yet
they had gone without women, drink and entertainment, wealth, even food
and shelter at times, and they had seen their companions drowned,
scalped or starved.
Yes, Smith was very much alive on his side of the great salt waters,
Powhatan to the contrary. He still yearned for Virginia. When he had
left he had been cut to the quick that his righteous authority was
questioned by the sending over of his former enemies--captains all--and
the haughty governor, and other new officers to follow. His pride was
sorer than his burns.
Denied southern Virginia, he began to crave the northern coast which
stretched to the present Nova Scotia. While fifteen voyages had traced
it already, the plan outlined by the second company had not been
successful. "As I liked Virginia well, though not their proceedings, so
I desired to see this country and spend some time in trying what I could
find." He scurried about Plymouth and London until he found backing and
two ships were loaded and manned for him. In spite of his short stature,
and mediocre lineage, he was every inch their commander as he took his
stand high on the poop deck, although he allowed another to run the
ship. He had a high brow, his long hair sweeping back from the temples.
Easily annoyed, furrows soon wrinkled his forehead. A hint of scorn ran
in the line from flaring nostril to mouth. He could be tough or tender,
furious, or exultant, but never niggardly nor lugubrious. His features
have engraved themselves facilely on the American mind, as hero, and
founding father, although his enemies begrudged him the honor.
After two eventful voyages to the Northern coast, he wrote _The
Description of New England_. His boyhood friend and patron, the present
Lord Willoughby, lived with the royal family and Smith easily secured
the help of Prince Charles. Smith indulgently let the Prince give
English names to the coast which he had already decided to name "New
England." On the title page of the book he was heralded as "Admirall of
New England."
Just as his book appeared Smith heard in London that a letter from Sir
Thomas Dale declared that Dale and his party from Virginia were in
Plymouth awaiting a favorable wind before continuing to London. Captain
Argall had brought them over on the _Treasurer_. So ... Smith's colorful
past had caught up with him, and he recognized this as good luck. The
exciting arrival from the other side of the world was a windfall for
him, even if he could not get to either of the Virginias. Publicity
would be opportune for the sale of his book.
He was not entirely mercenary, and he was deeply grateful to Pocahontas
who had saved his life, and the perilous colony besides. Now it could
all be told. He must advise Queen Anne, King James' wife, that it would
help the Virginia plantation if Pocahontas was received like royalty.
Londoners had known of the marriage for a year, but they had never
heard of Pocahontas and John Smith--only of Pocahontas and John Rolfe.
When the council for Virginia in London heard of that marriage they had
debated solemnly whether Rolfe should be tried for treason. Smith was
possibly jealous that Rolfe had hit upon a practical export from
Virginia, if not because he had married Powhatan's daughter. An
idealist, and a soldier-adventurer, he scorned financial success, at
least when it was not his own, and that was usually.
Actually John Rolfe was the independent and industrious colonist for
whom Smith had longed, wanting such a one to stay busy in Jamestown
while he, Smith, did the exploring. Both had been essential to the
colony, the one as path-finder, and the other as planter and producer.
Pocahontas, who loved both, would have been baffled by their
incompatibility had the two men been thrown together, but fate kept them
out of each other's way, and denied both for long to hers, or to the
colony's.
Smith found it easier to make England bow to the Rolfes than to himself.
Pocahontas became the most distinguished visitor of the year in England.
While she could not speak the King's English glibly, she could conduct
herself as the daughter of a king. London gentlemen of the court sent
engravings of her picture to friends around the world, as if to say with
a flourish: "Look whom we have here!"
Uttamatomakkin preferred to impress the English with diabolic antics.
People at the landing in Plymouth and also in London thought the savages
a circus, but not so the stately Pocahontas.
From the moment she walked off the boat, she moved with a strange new
majesty that baffled her own husband as much as others. How could a mere
man explain the unaccountable poise which a clever woman could affect in
the most unfamiliar setting?
In their own modest lodgings, Rolfe could scarcely keep off curiosity
seekers, especially fine lords in elaborate dress who cantered into the
cobblestone court and called for Madame Rolfe.
John Rolfe bowed low, contending that Madame was indisposed after her
trip, and could not see strangers, no matter of what importance. He
would not have them mocking his strange, proud wife. Yet when she met
the same lords at balls, he was surprised to find himself in an humble,
obscure place in the background. A snobbish Britisher, he was secretly
proud of her, though his eyes smouldered occasionally with resentment at
some snobbery to himself. It was enough to turn the impressionable
woman's head, but he told himself she was at heart a sincere sweet
thing.
John Rolfe heard that the King thought that he had aspirations to become
Powhatan's heir, and as such James's rival over there, and for that
reason was snubbing him to keep him in his place.
John Smith, very much alive after all, was just out of three weeks in
jail where he had been put for fancying himself king of Virginia.
Because he should show his gratitude, he thought that England should
show hers, and that the latter was good business, he wrote a "little
book" to the Queen telling her how things were. Now, for the first time
he told her of the rescue, hitherto kept secret by his discretion. Queen
Anne just must do the right thing by Powhatan's girl.
He wrote of how, when he had but eighteen men with him, Pocahontas came
to warn him of her father's plot, and "the dark night could not affright
her from coming through the irksome woods and with watered eyes, gave me
intelligence with her best advice to escape his fury, which had he
known, he had surely slain her. Jamestown with her wild train, she as
freely frequented as her father's habitation; and during the time, two
or three years, she, next under God, was still the instrument to
preserve this colony from death, famine, and utter confusion."
The queen was duly persuaded, commanding, "Bring her on." All the court
was as keen as the people in the street to get a close-up view of the
tamed Pocahontas and her wild retinue. Fastidious Anne saw that these
kept their distance, but she offered her plump, white, jewelled hand to
Pocahontas.
"What do you mean, Mr. Rolfe," King James scolded John, "by marrying a
princess of the blood, you, a mere commoner?"
Royal society tittered behind its hands. Was the king pulling poor
John's leg, or was he really jealous of his share of Powhatan's realm?
After all, John Smith had been put in jail recently. Rolfe had imported
quite a fortune in tobacco, and he had been no fool in marrying
Powhatan's daughter who did him honor as Lady Delaware presented her.
"Captain Smith wrote me of your indispensable aid to our forlorn colony,
my Lady Rebecca, and I thank you for all my people. For myself, I would
say, now that I see how pretty you are, I wonder that John did not speak
for himself."
"I was a child when I saved the brave Captain," murmured Pocahontas
modestly.
She felt here like the princess whose fairy-tale had come true in
climactic palace scenes. There was more of a kind to come because she
was now the fashion--having her portrait painted, and numerous
engagements sought after. The Bishop of London gave a masquerade ball in
her honor, at which she danced with court celebrities. The Bishop, John
King, whom Queen Elizabeth had called the "king of preachers," never
honored a lady more. Her brother-in-law Tacomoco looked on with more
pride than Rolfe, who was too much of a provincial Puritan to enjoy
court circles, especially those at which he was improperly snubbed. He
was repeatedly confounded by his wife's poise. They went to "Twelfth
Night," other theatrical occasions, and one masqued ball after another.
Pocahontas's acquiline features were as inscrutable as Mona Lisa's.
Powdered and painted, dressed up like an English lady in small tailored
hats, and billowing swishing skirts, she kept her face the very mask of
fashion, concealing its Indian thoughts.
"The Masque of Christmas" was attended by King James, Queen Anne and
Pocahontas. There the queen danced with the Earl of Buckingham and the
Earl of Montgomery and Pocahontas had her noble partners too.
In February she would attend the "Masque of Lovers Made Men" as would
the King and Queen. The Lord Mayor would be there as well as the Duke
of Lenox and Lord Hay, the entertainment being in honor of the French
ambassador.
Rolfe, piqued at his own unimportance at these festive occasions, wrote
a political and economic treatise on the colony. Pocahontas objected to
any plans for an early return home.
The Lady Rebecca liked London, even though the foggy climate was giving
her a hacking cough that worried Rolfe, who wanted her to get on to the
country to meet his family. Neither rolling wagons and carriages on the
cobblestone street, nor roistering revellers downstairs beneath their
lodgings disturbed her, she said.
Naive, ordinary Indians did not admit themselves so pleased as she was.
John Smith ran into Uttamatomakkin in London.
"Powhatan did bid me to find you out to show me your God, the King,
Queen, and Prince, you so much told us of."
"God is not to be seen by human eye. The King you have seen. And the
rest you shall see when you choose."