The President and Council are established and a settlement made at Jamestown—Newport and Smith go on an exploring expedition—They meet Powhatan, the great Werowance of the country—They are feasted and fÊted by the old Chief—A quick return to Jamestown and a timely arrival—The Indians attack the settlers and take them unawares—Gallant stand made by the gentlemen adventurers—The appearance of Newport and his men prevents a massacre—A fort and stockade are hurriedly erected—Smith is tried on a charge of treason and triumphantly acquitted—Captain Newport returns to England with the two larger ships.

It was, indeed, a fair land to which the white men had journeyed from over the seas. Smith says of it: “Heaven and earth never agreed better to frame a place for man’s habitation. Here are mountains, hills, plains, rivers, and brooks, all running most pleasantly into a fair bay, compassed, but for the mouth, with fruitful and delightsome land.” The country was covered, for the most part, with virgin forest. Here and there a small clearing afforded a site for a cluster of wigwams around which lay fields of maize or other cereals. The birds and animals that we prize most highly as table delicacies abounded in the wilds, and the waters swarmed with fish.

A very small proportion of the land was occupied. The Indian villages were few and miles apart. The country round about the Jamestown settlement was in the possession of the Algonquin tribe, divided into many bands, generally numbering not more than a few hundred souls, each band under its own chief and all owning allegiance to a king or werowance named Powhatan. There was constant intercourse between the villages, and their men joined together for purposes of war, or the chase. Rough forest trails formed the only roads between the different centres, whilst blazed trees marked by-paths that led to springs, favorite trapping grounds, or other localities of occasional resort.

The royal orders permitted the opening of the box of instructions as soon as the colonists should have reached Virginia, and they lost no time in satisfying their anxiety to learn the membership of the Council. It appeared that the King had selected for that distinction and responsibility, Edward Wingfield, Bartholomew Gosnold, Christopher Newport, John Ratcliffe, George Kendall and John Smith. The last named was still in irons and his fellow-councilmen were, with the possible exception of Newport, unfriendly to him. It was decided that he should not be admitted to the body, and the remaining members proceeded to elect Wingfield, Smith’s arch-enemy, to the position of President.

For the next two weeks and more, the colonists remained upon the ships. Meanwhile they explored the surrounding country for a favorable site on which to settle. The Indians with whom they came in contact during this time treated them with the utmost kindness, freely furnishing food and tobacco, which latter few of the settlers had ever smoked, although Raleigh had introduced the leaf into England some years earlier. Everything was so strange to the adventurers, many of whom were absent from their native land for the first time, that they forgot for a while their discontent and jealousies in the interest and wonder excited by new sights and scenes.

We can imagine, for instance, the mixed sensations of the strangers when a band of Rappahonacks marched towards them, headed by their chief playing upon a reed flute. They were all fantastically trimmed, we will say, for their only dress was a coat of paint. The chief, as befitted his rank, was the most grotesque figure of all, but the effect was equally hideous and awesome and the Englishmen were divided between merriment and fear. On one side of his head the chief wore a crown of deer’s hair dyed red and interwoven with his own raven locks; on the other side, which was shaven, he wore a large plate of copper, whilst two long feathers stood up from the centre of his crown. His body was painted crimson and his face blue. Around his neck was a chain of beads, and strings of pearls hung from his ears which were pierced to hold bird’s claws set in gold. He and his followers each carried a bow and arrows and a tomahawk with stone head.

At length it was decided to settle upon a little peninsula jutting into the river. There was a great deal of disagreement about this site. Smith favored it, mainly because its comparative isolation made it easier to defend than a location further inland, but he was allowed no voice in the selection. It was, however, an unfortunate choice, for the ground was low and marshy and no doubt a great deal of the later mortality was due to the unhealthy situation of the infant settlement of Jamestown. Here, however, the colonists landed on the thirteenth day of May and set up the tents in which they lived for some time thereafter. There is too much to be done to justify the absence of an available strong arm and Smith, although virtually a prisoner still, is allowed to join in the general labor and this he does cheerfully without any show of resentment on account of his past treatment.

The President gave evidence of his incapacity from the very outset. Relying implicitly upon the friendly attitude of the Indians he refused to allow any defences to be considered, and even went so far as to decline to unpack the arms which had been brought from England, declaring that to do so would be a display of distrust which the savages might resent. The latter, who were permitted to go in and out of the camp with their weapons, were no doubt for a time divided in mind as to whether the white men were superhuman beings invulnerable to arrows or only a species of foolish and confiding fellow-creatures such as they had never known. Wingfield had most of his men busy felling trees and making clapboards with which to freight the vessels on their return, for it must be understood that these colonists were practically employees of the company that had been at the expense of sending them out and which expected to make a profit on the investment. It was necessary therefore to secure cargoes for shipment to England, but the position should have been fortified and houses erected before all else.

Newport was anxious to have more extensive information of the country to report to his employers who entertained the belief—absurd as it seems to us—that by penetrating one or two hundred miles farther westward the settlers would come upon the Pacific and open a short route to India. Newport therefore organized an expedition to explore the river. He took twenty men and was glad to include Smith in the party. There was no opposition on the part of the Council to the arrangement. Indeed, it was entirely to their liking. None of them was over keen to penetrate the unknown with its possible dangers and each was reluctant to leave the settlement for the further reason that he distrusted his fellow-members of the Council and was jealous of them. As to Smith, they had made up their minds to send him back to England a prisoner, to be tried on charges of treason, conspiracy, and almost anything else their inventive minds could conceive.

So Captain Newport and his party proceeded slowly up the river in their shallop, greeted kindly by the Indians in the various villages along the banks and feasted by them. The travellers in their turn bestowed upon their entertainers presents of beads, nails, bottles, and other articles, trifling in themselves but almost priceless to the savages who had never seen anything of the kind. At length the party arrived at a village named Powhatan. It was located very near the present situation of Richmond, and perhaps exactly where the old home of the Mayo family—still called “Powhatan”—stands. This village was governed by a son of the great Werowance. The capital of the latter was at Werowocomico, near the mouth of the York River, but he happened to be at Powhatan at the time of Newport’s arrival. I say that he happened to be there, but it is much more likely that he had been informed of the expedition and had gone overland to his son’s village with the express intention of meeting the strangers, about whom he must have been keenly curious.

Powhatan was the chief of all the country within a radius of sixty miles of Jamestown, and having a population of about eight thousand, which included two thousand or more warriors. Although over seventy years of age, he was vigorous in mind and body. His tall, well-proportioned frame was as straight as an arrow. His long gray hair flowed loose over his shoulders and his stern and wrinkled countenance expressed dignity and pride. The English learned to know him for a keen and subtle schemer, to whom the common phrase, “simple savage,” would be altogether misapplied. He was sufficiently sagacious to realize from the first that in the white men he had a superior race to deal with and he made up his mind that the most effective weapon that he could use against them would be treachery.

On this occasion, he dissembled the feelings of anger and fear that he must have felt against the intruders and received them with every sign of amity. To his people, who began to murmur at their presence and displayed an inclination to do them harm, he declared:

“They can do us no injury. They desire no more than a little land and will pay us richly for it. It is my pleasure that you treat them kindly.”

In the meanwhile, his keen penetrating glance was taking in every detail of his visitors’ appearance, scrutinizing their weapons and dress, and closely examining their faces as they spoke, for the settlers had picked up a little of the language.

When the voyagers, after being feasted and fÊted at the village of Powhatan, continued their journey up the river, the “Emperor,” as the early writers call him, furnished them with a guide, whose chief duty doubtless was to act as spy and report their movements to him. Newport proceeded up the river until it became too shallow to admit of further progress. He then turned and commenced the descent. He had not gone many days’ journey when he began to notice a change in the attitude of the Indians which prompted him to hasten on to the settlement with all speed. It was well that he did so for the settlers were in a critical situation.

We have seen that Wingfield altogether neglected to place the colonists in a position to defend themselves from attack. During the absence of the exploring expedition he had so far departed from his foolish attitude as to permit Captain Kendall to erect a paltry barricade of branches across the neck of the little peninsula, but this was the only measure of safety he could be induced to take. The Indians were permitted to come and go as freely as ever and the arms were left in the packing cases. Of course it was only a matter of time when the Indians would take advantage of such a constantly tempting opportunity to attack the newcomers.

One day, without the slightest warning, four hundred savages rushed upon the settlement with their blood-curdling war-whoop. The colonists were utterly unprepared and most of them unarmed. Seventeen fell at the first assault. Fortunately the gentlemen habitually wore swords, these being part of the every-day dress of the time, and many of them had pistols in their belts. They quickly threw themselves between the unarmed settlers and the Indians and checked the latter with the fire of their pistols. Wingfield, who though a fool was no coward, headed his people and narrowly escaped death, an arrow cleaving his beard. Four other members of the Council were among the wounded, so that only one of them escaped untouched.

The gallant stand made by the gentlemen adventurers only checked the Indians for a moment, and there is no doubt that every man of the defenders must have been slain had not the ships created a diversion by opening fire with their big guns. Even this assistance effected but temporary relief, for the Indians would have renewed the attack at nightfall, with complete success in all probability, but the appearance of Newport at this juncture with his twenty picked and fully armed men put a different complexion on affairs. The reinforcement sallied against the attacking savages and drove them to retreat.

It is hardly necessary to state that all hands were now engaged with feverish zeal in erecting a fort and stockade. Some demi-culverins were carried ashore from the ships and mounted. The arms were uncased and distributed and certain men were daily drilled in military exercises, whilst a constant guard was maintained throughout the day and night. From this time the intercourse between the whites and Indians was marked on both sides by caution and suspicion.

When the defences had been completed, Captain Newport made preparations for an immediate departure and then the Council informed Smith that he was to be returned to England a prisoner for trial. Fortunately for the future of the colony, our hero rebelled against such an unjust proceeding, saying, with reason, that since all persons cognizant of the facts were on the spot, it was on the spot that he should be tried, if anywhere. His contention was so just, and the sentiment in his favor so strong, that the Council was obliged to accede to his demand. He protested against a moment’s delay, declaring that, if found guilty by a jury of his peers, he would willingly return to England in chains with Captain Newport and take the consequences.

The trial resulted in a triumphant acquittal. There was not one iota of real evidence adduced against the prisoner. Wingfield and others had nothing but their bare suspicions to bring forward. It did transpire, however, in the course of the proceedings that the President had not only been moved by malice but that he had endeavored to induce certain persons to give false evidence against his enemy. On the strength of these revelations, the jury not only acquitted Captain Smith but sentenced the President to pay him two hundred pounds in damages, which sum, or its equivalent, for it was paid in goods, our hero promptly turned into the common fund.

Smith accepted his acquittal with the same calm indifference that had characterized his behavior since his arrest and showed a readiness to forget past differences and encourage harmony among the leaders. Mr. Hunt also strove to produce peace and goodwill in the settlement but the efforts were useless. When Newport left them in June, the colony was divided into two factions, the supporters of Wingfield and those of Smith, who was now of course free of his seat at the Council board. And so it remained to the end of our story—jealousy, meanness, incompetence and even treachery, hazarding the lives and the fortunes of the little band of pioneers who should have been knit together by common interests and common dangers.