Now that the _Ph[oe]nix_ had left food enough to sustain the colony all
summer, Captain Smith had leisure to heed the restless stirrings of his
adventurous spirit. He had long wished to explore the great bay, and he
now accompanied the _Ph[oe]nix_ as far as the capes. As the ship "bore
up the helm," and entered her long path on the great sea, he turned the
prow of his little barge northward to the mysterious unexplored waters of
the Chesapeake. Relying upon Indian information, he had sent, by Captain
Newton, almost a pledge that he would find the outlet to the South Sea
through the northern waters, rather than the James or Chickahominy rivers.
Personally, he had nothing to gain, the crown would be sure to claim
everything; but it behooved him to satisfy the London Company. Christians
and patriots had swelled his sails with pæans and prayers when he left
England, but he had reason to fear that the existence of the colony did
not depend upon the Christian who thought of nothing but the coming of
God's Kingdom on earth; nor upon the patriot who sought only the honour
of old England; but upon a king and company seeking the present gold, and
a path whereby gold-bearing regions might be reached in future.
The colonists had always been reluctant to cultivate food products, and
were by consequence always starving. This was, in part, because they
were not allowed to plant on their own account, except upon condition
of contributing part of their crops and one month's service annually for
the benefit of the London Company. Neither could they leave the country
without special permission. Private letters from England were constantly
intercepted. It is narrated that a passport from the King for the return
of one of the colonists was sewed in a garter to ensure its delivery. The
settlers were, as a matter of fact, slaves and prisoners, chained hand and
foot to a life of privation and peril. Their true position was concealed
for a while from the English people, but the secret was kept for a short
time only. Banishment to Virginia was worse than death. Scott makes his
profligate apprentice consider the alternative of suicide or life in
Virginia. "I may save the hangman a labour or go the voyage to Virginia,"
said "Jin Vincent." Three thieves, under sentence of death, were offered
pardon and transportation to Virginia. One of the three preferred hanging.
The other two were sent to the long-suffering colonists. "The first
country in America," says Stith, "is under the unjust scandal of being
another Siberia, fit only for the vilest of people."
Captain Smith's voyage, made in an open barge, was full of adventure. He
explored every river, every inlet. He visited the site of the future city
of Baltimore, and rowed close under the hill known to-day as Mt. Vernon.
He was sometimes assailed by the arrows of the Indian, and sometimes
adored by him as a god. His adventures were peculiar and thrilling, and it
is my readers' loss that I cannot relate them all in this modest volume.
Perhaps no one of them is more dramatic than the picture he draws of the
dusky crowd that once gathered around him; when, according to his daily
custom, he offered a prayer for God's protection and guidance, and joined
with his comrades in a psalm of praise. All at once the savages turned
their faces eastward, and raising their hands with passionate gestures,
"began a fearful song," and ended by embracing Captain Smith. Poor
fellows! They too had a god! They recognized in the strange white man a
brother!
In these two voyages (for the explorers returned for food once) Smith
sailed about three thousand miles. They returned to Jamestown early
in September (1608), having encountered a terrible hurricane near the
peaceful spot they had named Point Comfort when they first passed between
the capes. Smith made haste to draw his wonderfully accurate map of
Virginia. This map was the recognized authority for many years, and
indeed survives in the maps of to-day. All subsequent researches have only
expanded and illustrated Smith's original view.[44]
He had not found the passage to the South Sea, nor the gold mine that
Powhatan's people had led him to expect. The rainbow still spanned the
continent, and the pot of gold was still at the end of the rainbow, and
there, sure enough, it was found, more than two hundred years afterward!
While this expedition was in progress, the golden dreams of the colonists
were finally dispelled. They awaked to all the miseries of the preceding
summer, sickness, scarcity, disappointment, and discontent. Smith returned
to reanimate their drooping spirits, and refresh their physical wants by
provisions he collected on his voyage.
The chronicles written by one of our trusty "first planters" sums up the
situation at Jamestown, "The silly President (Ratcliffe) had notoriously
consumed the stores, and to fulfill his follies about building a house
for his pleasure in the woods, had brought them all to that misery that
had we not arrived they had as strangely _tormented him with revenge_."
We are left to imagine the grim inventions of the mutineers. The "strange
torment," however, was prevented by Smith, who strove to be a peacemaker;
but the colonists were inexorable. Again was their President deposed, or
allowed to resign; and John Smith, by a popular election, became President
of Virginia.
And now in October an unexpected ship appears on the broad bosom of the
James. The London Company has hurriedly fitted out the _Mary & Margaret_,
and sent Newport back to hasten Smith's discovery of the northward passage
to the South Sea. As the ship approaches, the keen eyes of the crowd on
shore discern something besides the red cross of St. George fluttering in
the autumn breeze. What means this white pennon like a flag of truce? The
amazed watchers rub their eyes and gaze again. "It looks like--but no,
that cannot be--it certainly _looks_ like--yes, _it is_--an APRON!"
Sure enough, on the forward deck a small slip of a maiden stands beside
a matron in ruff and farthingale, and the little maid's apron signals
a greeting to the shore. This is little fourteen-year-old Ann Burras.
Her brother, "John Burras, Tradesman," is on board. She is going to be
a famous woman very soon, young as she is. She is going to marry John
Laydon, and hers will be the first marriage, and her little daughter will
be the first English child born in Virginia, and the London Company will
be proud of her and look to her dower; and so she and her John will found
the genuine "first family" in Virginia. She is very unconscious of all
this as she stands in her ruff and short petticoat, beside her mistress,
Madame Forrest, who is brave in a farthingale, long, pointed bodice, lace
ruff, and broad-banded hat. Her husband, "Thomas Forrest, Gentleman," is
on board, but the "Gentleman" and his Madam signify very little beside
the rosy English maiden who serves them.
The news brought by Newport this time was too exciting to leave room
for interest in Zuñiga's hysterics and the court happenings. Ratcliffe
had written home by the last mail that Smith and his followers intended
to seize the country and divide it among themselves. This the Right
Honourables were ready and willing to believe, having been enlightened,
doubtless, by the disgraced Wingfield. The orders were now explicit. There
were to be no more evasions, no more apologies, no more subterfuge. The
Virginia colonists were to discover and return one of the lost Roanoke
men, to send back a lump of gold, and to find the South Sea--eastward or
northward, or beyond the mountains. Moreover, the returning ship was to be
freighted with goods, the sale of which would reimburse the company for
its present outlay. Failing in obedience to these orders, the settlers
must "consider themselves an abandoned colony," and "remain in Virginia
as banished men." In order to facilitate the progress to the South Sea,
the company had kindly sent out a barge in sections, to be borne on the
men's backs across the intervening mountains, and to be pieced together
when the river running into the South Sea should be reached.
Captain Smith suspected Newport of having instigated these orders, and
a violent quarrel ensued. Smith threatened to send the _Mary & Margaret_
home, and keep Newport for a year, put him to work, and let him see for
himself how matters stood at Jamestown. However, differences were smoothed
over for the present.
King James the First had foolishly amused himself by causing a trumpery
crown of copper to be made for Powhatan the First, and sent it with
instructions for a formal coronation ceremony. Sundry presents were to
accompany the crown--a bedstead, scarlet cloak, ewer, and basin. Smith
was sent overland to invite the Emperor to come to Jamestown for his
coronation.
When he arrived at Werowocomoco, he found Powhatan gone on a journey to
one of his several country houses. A messenger was despatched to fetch
him. Meanwhile a great fire was kindled in a field near a wood, and
before it mats were spread for the party of Englishmen. They were probably
smoking comfortably, after the manner of tired men, when they heard such
a "Hideous noise and shrieking that the five Englishmen betook themselves
to their arms and seized two or three old men by them, supposing Powhatan
with all his power was come to surprise them. But presently Pocahontas
came, willing them to kill her if any hurt were intended; and the
beholders, which were men, women, and children, satisfied the Captain
there was no such matter."[45]
In all our descriptions of Indian ceremonies hitherto, as well as now, it
must not be forgotten that we describe the fashions of the Sylvan Court,
or, if you please, the Court Barbarian. Masques were in high vogue at
this time at the Court of St. James. Here, also, in the western wilderness
was to be a masque, the melodrama to be produced by an amateur company in
private theatricals.
"Presently," says our historian, "thirty young women came naked out of
the woods (only covered before and behind with a few greene leaves), their
bodies all painted, some white, some red, some black, some parti-colour;
but every one different. Their leader had a faire paire of stagge's hornes
on her head, and an otter skinne at her girdle, another at her arme, a
quiver of arrowes at her backe, and bow and arrowes in her hand. The next
held in her hand a wooden sword; another a club; another a pot-stick: all
horned alike. The rest every one with their severall devises.
"These fiends, with most hellish cries and shouts rushing from amongst
the trees, cast themselves in a ring about the fire, singing and dauncing
with excellent ill varietie, or falling into their infernall passions and
then solemnly again to sing and daunce. Having spent neere an hour in this
maskarado; as they entered in like manner they departed.
"Having re-accomodated themselves, they solemnly invited Smith to their
lodging; but no sooner was hee within the house, but all these nimphes
more tormented him than ever with crowding and pressing and hanging upon
him, most tediously crying '_Love you not mee? Love you not mee?_'
"This salutation ended the feast was set consisting of fruit in baskets,
fish and flesh in wooden platters: beans and pease there wanted not (for
twenty hogges), nor any Salvage daintie their invention could devise; some
attending, others singing and dancing about them. This mirth and banquet
being ended, with fire-brands (instead of torches), they conducted him to
his lodging."[46]
The next day Powhatan arrived. There were no more "antics," no more mirth.
Diplomacy and cunning ruled the hour. As to the "maskarado," the less we
say perhaps the better, seeing it was meant in kindness. It could hardly
have been an improvised entertainment! Pocahontas had possibly been drawn
to the fort by news of the arrival of the two ships, and had learned of
Smith's proposed visit. It is stated by one of the chroniclers that _she_
was the leader. We will give her the benefit of a doubt. Perhaps she had
already met Madame Forrest and Ann Burras, and been given some Christian
garments; and having ordered the dramatic performance, was seated in
grave dignity among the spectators. We think this is possible. There is no
reason, because she wheeled on hands and feet the last summer, she should
go this length in the autumn.
I can hardly imagine a more brilliant _mise en scène_; the forest in its
gorgeous autumnal splendour, the brightly painted, party-coloured young
girls with deer's antlers on their dusky brows, the fitful footlights of
a blazing fire, the shimmering curtain of smoke! The audience seated in
picturesque groups on the mats of reeds fill in the picture.
Smith was coldly received by the emperor, nor was the latter softened
by the promise of presents, the invitation to Jamestown, and the return
of Namontack. He curtly replied: "If your King have sent me presents, I
also am a King, and this is my land. 8 days will I stay to receive them.
Your father is to come to me, not I to him; nor yet to your fort: neither
will I bite at such a bate. As for the Monacans, I can revenge my owne
injuries; as for the place where you say your brother was slain, it is a
contrary way from those parts you suppose it. As to any salt water beyond
the mountains, the relations you have from my people are false."[47]
This was decisive and squarely to the point; so Newport sent the presents
by water, and he, with fifty of the best shot, went himself by land and
awaited the arrival of the barge.
[Illustration: "The newly crowned potentate started with terror."]
All things ready, a day was fixed for the coronation. The basin and ewer
were presented, the bedstead set up (probably a great four-poster), and
the scarlet cloak with much ado put upon the emperor, "being persuaded by
Namontack they would do him no hurt." But kneel to receive the crown his
Majesty would not. He positively refused to bend his knee. Finally, by
leaning hard on his shoulders, he was made to stoop a little, and Newport
hastily clapped the crown on his head, when at the signal of a pistol
shot, the boats fired such a volley that the newly crowned potentate
started with terror, and could with difficulty be reassured. Regaining
his wonted serenity, he gravely presented his old shoes and his mantle of
raccoon skins trimmed with raccoon tails to Captain Newport. After some
complimental kindness on both sides, he also presented Newport with a
heap of wheat ears, that might when winnowed yield seven or eight bushels;
wherewith the coronation party returned to the fort. There the consensus
of opinion may be briefly stated: "As for the Coronation of Pawhatan, and
his presents, they had been better spared than so ill spent. This stately
kind of soliciting made him so much overvalue himselfe that he respected
us as nothing at all." It was an absurd piece of folly on the part of "the
wisest fool in Christendom."
This was the only order of the company that Newport was able to carry out.
He travelled far in the Monacan country, where the "Stoics of the woods"
received him in an impassive, noncommittal manner. He hunted up and down
for Raleigh's men, for gold, for the South Sea. He found none of these
things, and so, having no greater treasures than pitch, tar, glass, and
soap ashes wherewith to satisfy the Company for its outlay of two thousand
pounds, he was fain to sail away, leaving behind none to regret him.
The colony had suffered much from the presence of the two ships. The
sailors, as usual, consumed a large part of the supplies, and they also
engaged in an illicit traffic with the Indians and men "of the baser sort"
in the colony.
The latter traded "chisels, hatchets, pickaxes, and mattocks with the
sailors for butter, cheese, beefe, porke, aqua vitæ, beere, bisket, and
oatmeale." Out of three hundred hatchets, not twenty could be found when
the ship sailed. And these implements, so much coveted by the Indians,
had been traded again with them for "furres, baskets, muscaneekes [?] and
young beasts." One mariner boasted that he had collected enough furs to
sell for thirty pounds, having paid, probably, a hatchet for them. The
young beasts were great curiosities in England. The Earl of Southampton
in a letter to the Earl of Salisbury wrote in 1609:--
"MY LORD,
"Talkinge with the King by chance I tould him of the Virginia
squirrills which they say will fly, whereof there are now divers
brought into England, and hee presently and very earnestly asked
mee if none of them was provided for him, sayinge that hee was
sure you would gett him one of them. I would not have trobled you
with this but that you know so well how he is affected by these
toyes, and with a little enquiry of any of your folkes you may
furnish yourself to present him att his comminge to London which
will not bee before Wensday next: the Monday before Theobald's
and the Saterday before that to Royston. Your lordships most
assuredly,
"to doo your service,
"H. SOUTHAMPTON."
Captain Smith indulged himself in writing an imprudent, sharp letter
to the "Right Honourables" in London. He entitled his epistle "A Rude
Answer," in which he exhibited in caustic terms the preposterous folly of
expecting a present profitable return from Virginia. As to gold, he had
from the first discouraged all hope of it. The pieced barge for the South
Sea? That, at least, was a feasible project. True, it could not be borne
many hundreds of miles and over mountains on the backs of his men, but he
could burn it and have the ashes carried over in a bag!
He then rallies the company for its prodigality in giving Newport a
hundred pounds a year for carrying news, and informs them that he sends
Ratcliffe home lest the colonists should cut his throat.
All this did but little good to our captain, as he had cause to realize
afterward. "Had Newport suspected the character of the Rude answer," says
Cooke, "it is probable he would have dropped it into the Atlantic. But he
duly took it to England and the Right Honourables no doubt gasped at its
truculence."