In December, 1608, there were two hundred men within the palisades at
Jamestown; already, although the weather was delightful, "affrighted with
famine." The little wooded peninsula, small and marshy as it was, might
with proper foresight and industry have yielded corn and garden products,
but as Captain Smith in his "Rude Answer" had stated: "The one-half of us
are sicke, the other little better. Our diet is usually a little meale
and water, and not sufficient of that. Though there be fish in the sea,
fowles in the aire, and beasts in the woods, their bounds are so large,
they so wilde, and we so weake and ignorant, we cannot trouble them. And
we must long lodge and feed the men you send before they can be made
good for anything. In over-toyling our weake unskilful bodies, we can
scarce recover ourselves from one supply to another. If you would send
out carpenters, husbandmen and diggers-up of trees' roots, they would be
worth more than a thousand of such as we have."
It was always the old "question of bread and cheese," which has settled
adversely many a good cause. Smith, however, did his best with the
effeminate gentlemen who had come in Newport's latest ship. He himself
shrank from no toil, no exposure. Neither danger nor labour discouraged
his manhood, and with his example before them--grappling as he did with
the hardest tasks--his followers were deprived of all excuse for complaint
or discontent. Two very choice "gallants"--Gabriel Beadle and John
Russell, "both proper gentlemen," were among the thirty whom he invited
to join him in the noble art of wood-craft--felling trees, splitting
them with wedges, and shaping them with hatchets into clapboards for
the additional shelter needed by themselves. Meantime they were to lie
in the woods at night. The _Mary & Margaret_ had brought over six mares
and a horse, so these new "gentlemen" would not be forced, as were their
predecessors, to bear this timber on their backs out of the forest.
The novelty had its charm of pleasurable excitement.[48] "Strange were
these pleasures to their conditions, yet lodging, eating, drinking,
working or playing, they doing but as the President, all these things
were carried so pleasantly as within a weeke they became Masters; making
it their delight to heare the Trees thunder as they fell. But the Axes so
oft blistered their tender fingers that commonly every third blow had a
lowd Oath to drowne the Echo."
Captain Smith rarely indulged in the courtly luxury of profane swearing,
and was not inclined to grant privileges to others he did not allow
himself. He resolved to have none of it in his Majesty's colony. As for
himself he did not need it. He could command vigorous English without it;
and so he set about the reformation of the "Gallants and proper Gentlemen"
lately come from the English court. He adopted, as a remedial agent, a
novel punishment. "He had every man's Oathes numbered, and at night for
every Oath a Kan of water was powered down his Sleeve, with which every
Offender was so washed (_himselfe and all_) that a man should scarce
heare an Oath in a Weeke." And so, we gather, the Captain was after all
sometimes overtaken, as well as other people.
The narrator of this incident, Richard Pots, wishes us to make no mistake.
"By this," he continues, "let no man thinke the President or these
Gentlemen spent their times as common Wood-hackers at felling Trees or
such like labours: or that they were pressed to anything as hirelings
or common slaves; for what they did (beeing but once a little inured) it
seemed they conceited it only a pleasure and a recreation. Yet thirty or
forty of such Gentlemen would doe more in a day than one hundred of the
rest that must be prest by compulsion."
This was doubtless due to their President's excellent humour and judgment.
Had he played the martinet with his volunteers, he might have had their
axes about his ears. Doubtless he was highly pleased with his "Gallants
and proper Gentlemen," but he afterwards confessed that "twentie good wor
men had been better than them all."
The haze of the Indian summer (when "the sun looks back with regret") was
hanging over river and forest, and softening the outlines of the hills.
Smoke from many fires in the woods mingled with the purple haze. These
fires were under the kettles of the Dutchmen who were making potash by
evaporating the lye obtained from leaching wood ashes. Alkalis were in
great demand in England, hence the quantity of soap ashes with which
the early ships were freighted. Soap itself was a forbidden article of
domestic use. There was a severe penalty against throwing soap suds in the
open street. The dreadful Oriental plague had appeared in London, and it
was thought then that "not only soap-boilers and vendors of soap, but all
the washerwomen and all they whose business it was to use soap--nay they
who only wore shirts washed with soap--presently died of the Plague."[49]
All hands were called from the forest and the kettles early in December
to attend the first English marriage in Virginia. Of course pretty Ann
Burras found many admirers in a colony of two hundred men, and equally, of
course, she could accept but one. Her bridegroom, John Laydon, Carpenter,
was twenty-seven. They were all young men. Captain Smith and George Percy
were not yet thirty, and they were among the elders.
The ceremony was performed, doubtless, in the church, and by good Master
Hunt, who was soon to be called to the reward of a noble Christian life.
It is altogether probable that Pocahontas was present. "She came as freely
to the fort as to her father's house, bringing corn and game and whatever
she could get for Captain Smith." She was known by all as the "Deare &
Darling Pocahontas," and when a wedding was to the fore we may be sure
she was apprised of it.
Little Ann Burras brought good fortune to her honest carpenter. More
than once they were given land in Virginia, at one time as much as five
hundred acres. She bore many children. There was a Catharine, an Alice,
and a Margaret; but the first child was named "Virginia." The family lived
long, and survived all the hard times--the starvation, the sickness, and
the great massacre of 1622. How different was the fate of Ellinor Dare,
and her hapless little Virginia!
One is tempted to linger in the sweet Indian summer time, and listen to
the wedding bells and cheery talk of the woodsmen in the forest--for these
were the last "good times" these hapless colonists were to know for many
a long day. Just at the moment they were happily unconscious that war,
pestilence, and famine stood hand in hand at their door.
Autumn lingers long on the banks of the lower James. There, near
Jamestown, I have gathered roses on Christmas Day. One peculiarity of the
climate is that summer can depart in an hour,--the sun hidden in darkness
and the face of the earth thickly blanketed under snow. This had not yet
happened, however, and the newcomers rejoiced in the belief that they
had fallen upon a heavenly climate. Captain Smith, George Percy, and the
survivors of the first winter knew better.
They were dependent upon the Indians for corn, as usual, but Powhatan had
evinced no friendship since he perceived that the colony was regularly
reënforced from abroad. Indeed, his attitude was distinctly hostile.
Captain Smith attempted to draw supplies from the Nansemond Indians, but
was repulsed with the message that the emperor had not only forbidden
them to surrender their corn, but ordered them not to allow the English
to enter their river. Whereupon Smith put a torch to one of their houses,
and signified that such should be the fate of all unless the grain were
forthcoming. The argument was answerable in but one way. They made haste
to load his boats, and he set out on his return to the fort. That night
the untimely snow came and covered them in their open barge, so they
landed, dug a space in the deep snow, and built a fire. When the heat had
sufficiently dried the spot, they threw off the fire, swept the ground,
and covering it with a mat, "slept as if it had been a palace." "To keepe
us from the winde we made a shade of another mat; and the winde turned,
we turned our shade; and when the ground grew cold, we renewed the fire.
Thus many a cold winter night have we laine in this miserable manner: yet
those that most commonly went upon these occasions were always in health,
lusty and fat."
Scarcely had the Captain brought his captured supplies in safety to
Jamestown, than he was off upon another foraging expedition. Percy also
set forth with Scrivener on a similar quest, but returned disheartened,
having procured nothing. Powhatan's orders had been general.
But the President, "whom no perswasions could perswade to starve," was
full of resource. There was no time to lose. All nature was now shrouded
in a heavy mantle of snow, and there were few stores in the fort. The
common kettle held only coarsely crushed corn, which was boiled into a
thick porridge. There was absolutely nothing more, except dried sturgeon
and of this a limited supply. The colonists huddled together behind their
palisade, sorely "affrighted" at the thought of famine.
Their President called his Council together--George Percy, Captain Waldo,
Scrivener, and Francis West, brother to Lord Delawarre. He had a plan,
daring beyond precedent; but desperate men are capable of desperate
measures. He proposed to take a number of armed men to Werowocomoco, and
by stratagem or force capture Powhatan, hold him for ransom, and thus
extort supplies. His scheme was thoroughly approved, and the Council set
about the preparation of the pinnace and two barges.
Powhatan was also snow-bound, and he, too, had a plan. If he could
slay Captain Smith, and secure some arms, the rest would be easy. But
he must do everything by cunning. His arrows, in open combat, availed
little against the Englishman's firearms. He now professed to covet
sundry domestic comforts. He sent an invitation to Captain Smith with a
request for men to build him a house,--the four-poster had inspired his
ambition,--and to come himself and "bring him a Grindstone, fiftie Swords,
some Peeces, a Cocke and a Henne, with Copper and Beads, and he would load
Smith's ship with corne."
The Captain, although "not ignorant of his devices," fell neatly into
the trap. He immediately despatched four of his eight Dutchmen overland
to build the house, promising to come by water as soon as he could get
his pinnace ready. But first he wished to reconnoitre a little and to
that end visited on his way the friendly chief of Weraskoyack.[50] The
chief endeavoured to dissuade him from his journey, "advising him in
this manner: Captaine Smith, you shall find Powhatan to use you kindly
but trust him not; and be sure he have no opportunitie to seize on your
armes for he hath sent for you only to cut your throats." This was not a
popular view to take of the situation. Smith thanked him for his counsel,
and departed, leaving his page, Samuel Collier, with the friendly savage
to learn the Indian language. He then, mindful of the express orders from
London, detached from his company a soldier, Michael Sicklemore, gave
him guides and directions to search for the lost company of Sir Walter
Raleigh, and also to "find Silke Grasse,"[51] and set forth on his voyage.
The route was a circuitous one, down the James, around Point Comfort,
then some distance up the bay to the mouth of York River, and thence up
the river to Werowocomoco, nearly opposite to Jamestown. It was the 12th
of January (they had set sail the 29th of December), when their barge
broke the ice at ebb tide opposite Powhatan's settlement. "Master Russell
(whom none could perswade to stay behind) being somewhat ill and exceeding
heavie, so over-toyled himselfe as the rest had much adoe (ere hee got
ashore) to regain his benummed spirits," so they rested in the first house
they could find, and sent to Powhatan for provisions! The next day they
had audience of the emperor, who surprised Smith by coolly enquiring when
they proposed to leave the country, and why[52] had they come to visit
him at the present time?--adding that if provision was the object he had
little corn and his people less, nevertheless for forty swords he would
sell forty bushels.
Smith answered by showing him the men there present who had brought him
the invitation, whereat the king concluded the matter with merry laughter:
asking, however, for "Gunnes and swordes, and valueing a basket of Corne
more precious than a Basket of Copper, saying hee could eate his Corne
but not his Copper."
After more sparring, the truth came out. "Captaine Smith," saith the king,
"some doubt I have of your comming hither, that makes me not so kindly
seeke to releeve you as I would; for many doe informe mee your comming is
not for Trade, but to invade my people and possesse my Country; who dare
not come to bring you corne seeing you thus armed with your men. To cleere
us of this feare leave aboord your weapons for here they are needlesse,
we being all friends and Powhatans."
The captain answered that he had many courses to have made provision, but
had neglected everything to oblige his Majesty in the matter of the Cock
and Henn, Beads, and copper; and also had neglected the building of his
own house to send his carpenters for Powhatan's building. As to swords
and guns, he respectfully reminded his Majesty that he long ago told him
he had none to spare, etc., etc.
As our captain had no stenographer, we are amazed at the great length,
minuteness of detail, and apparent accuracy of the long harangues that
filled all that day and the next. His memory was good. His enemies have
argued that his imagination was better. He undoubtedly laid himself
open to this criticism, but although we may indulge ourselves in the
hope that so great a man betrayed no foible, still we are all human; and
which of us, having a good story to tell, can resist the temptation to
embroider it a little? Does not Talleyrand say that he who can suppress a
_bon mot_ deserves canonization? Is not a gorgeous bit of history worth
more than a poor little _bon mot_? The brave Captain has suffered much
at the hands of his stern, truth-loving fellow-man. But if we must take
something _cum grano_, must we reject all? "No one thinks Herodotus a liar
because he relates in minute detail conversations which no man could have
remembered." Smith lived in an age of bewilderment, and amid scenes of the
wildest intoxication. No doubt he had his dreams, visions, and exaggerated
fancies. It is hard, but if a historian sees men in buckram in a moment
of hallucination, he may really meet and overthrow an army with banners,
and a wicked world will remember those men in buckram!
Powhatan and our captain may have made all those long speeches, which
were so creditable to the latter. At the conclusion of every one of the
emperor's utterances, he demanded that the English should come to him
unarmed. One of Smith's speeches--nay, all of them, I should like to
repeat here, but one of them pleases me more than the rest. At the end of
two days' travail the Captain sums up:--
"Powhatan, you must knowe as I have but one God, I honour but one King;
and I live not here as your subject, but as your friend (!) to pleasure
you with what I can. By the gifts you bestowe on me you gaine more than
by trade; yet would you visit mee as I doe you, you should knowe it is
not our customes to sell our courtesie as a vendible commoditie."
The story is too long to relate here. The struggle was between an angry,
jealous savage and a very hungry Englishman. It ended in Smith's attempt
to carry out his plan and capture Powhatan, in the flight of the latter,
in two or three perilous positions in which Smith came near falling
into traps set for him and losing his life,--and finally, in a scheme of
Powhatan's to make friends again, load the pinnace with corn, and invite
all the visiting party to a series of merry entertainments, feasting, and
dancing. A great banquet was to follow this merriment. At this banquet
every white man was to be massacred. It is a peculiarity of the Indian
that when he means mischief he feeds his victim with one hand and brains
him with the other.
[Illustration: "'Powhatan comes to kill you all.'"]
"The eternal all-seeing God did prevent Powhatan, and by a strange meanes.
For Pocahontas, his dearest jewell and daughter, in that darke night came
through the irksome woods, and tolde our Captaine great cheare should be
sent by and bye: but that Powhatan and all the power he could make, would
after come and kill us all, if they that brought it could not kill us with
oure owne weapons when we were at supper. Therefore, if we would live,
shee wished us presently to be gone.
"In requital for this information, our President would have given her such
things as she delighted in, but with teares running downe her cheekes,
she said she durst not be seene to have any; for if Powhatan should know
it she were but dead; and so she ranne away as she came."[53]
Touching as is this proof of the devotion of the Indian girl to Captain
Smith, one cannot but pity the old emperor. He had just declared himself
the sole survivor of three generations of his people--generations who were
lords of the inherited lands of their fathers. The stranger from across
the seas was slowly but surely increasing in strength and numbers. He
could hope for nothing while the intruder fought behind those terrible
things with eyes of lightning and a voice of thunder. Possessing these,
the Indian might be the peer of the white man, and drive the usurper from
the country. Evil as were the designs of this savage, cruel as were his
methods of revenge, his instincts were perfectly natural; instincts born
of a consciousness of his own rights and desire to protect them which in
civilized rulers have ever been reckoned noble.
We can but sympathize with this King Lear of the western world, betrayed
in his old age by his "dearest jewell, his darling daughter." Well might
he exclaim with the ancient Briton:--
"How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child!"
Of course it is not for us to blame Pocahontas for her humane treason.
She, too, had her instincts. The man she adored was about to be murdered
in her father's house. It is useless to affect that the devotion she
constantly expressed was for the colony. She never set foot in Jamestown
after Captain Smith left it! She never brought corn in that terrible time,
the winter after he sailed away. It was for his sake, I am constrained to
believe, that she hid Wyffin, and rescued Henry Spelman.
Smith's next attempt was to wrest his supplies from Opechancanough, and
here he succeeded by seizing the chief by his scalp-lock, and with a
pistol pressed to his bosom, held him thus until the corn was forthcoming.
So in the end his "plan" was not wholly unsuccessful, while that of the
subtle savage seemed to fail utterly. He too was partially successful,
however. He availed himself of the perfidy of Adam and Francis, two of
the house-building Dutchmen, and sent them quickly overland to the fort,
to say that the interview had ended happily, but that Captain Smith,
having need of all the arms he could get, had sent for a supply from
the fort. These two men, Adam and Francis, had confederates there, and
savages waited outside to carry the arms away. A great number of swords,
pikes, pieces, etc., were stolen and sent to Powhatan. Another consort,
"Samuel," who had remained with the emperor, had also acquired three
hundred hatchets, fifty swords, and eight pikes. These Dutchmen persuaded
Powhatan that he was not safe at Werowocomoco, and advised him to leave
the building of his house and move to Orapakes, one of his interior seats.
Before Captain Smith could reach home, a bearer of bad news sought him
at Werowocomoco. Scrivener, Antony Gosnell, and eight others had been
drowned near Hog Island. The messenger Wyffin perceived such "preparation
for warre at Werowocomoco that he did assure himselfe [the President not
being there] that some mischief was intended. Pocahontas hid him for a
time, and sent them who pursued him the cleane contrary way to seeke him,
and by her meanes and extraordinary bribes and much trouble in three days
travell" at length he found the President with Opechancanough, "in the
middest of turmoyles."
"And so," continues our historian (Wyffin, or Abbot, or Phettiplace, or
Todkill, we know not which, for all sign it), "the President finding his
intent frustrated and that there was nothing now to be had and an unfit
time to revenge abuses, sent Master Michael Phettiplace to Jamestown,
whither we sayled with all the speed we could; wee having in this journey
kept 46 men six weeks, and for 40 lbs. of Iron and Beads, and 25 lbs. of
Copper, we got neere 200 lbs. of deere suet [which was used as butter]
and delivered to the Cape Merchant 479 Bushels of Corne." They arrived at
Jamestown February 8, 1609.