The Pocahontas-John Smith Story Part 5

"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 j.a.pazaws.

"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 j.a.pazaws 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 st.u.r.dy British farming cla.s.s, 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 Gla.s.s 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 princ.i.p.al 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 G.o.d; for my own salvation; and for the converting to the true knowledge of G.o.d 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 ash.o.r.e 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 antic.i.p.ated 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 partic.i.p.ate, 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 ap.r.o.ned lap, but the ex-Princess was tired of ap.r.o.ns, 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 advertis.e.m.e.nt 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.

VI

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 quant.i.ty of fur, tar, pitch and hemp, and little gla.s.s. 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 p.o.o.p 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 n.i.g.g.ardly 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 t.i.tle 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.