The church that was burned in the Jamestown fire of January 17, 1608, was the wretched affair of logs, sedge, and dirt, built by the colonists to take the place of the awning between two trees under which they first worshipped. In a map of the Virginia settlement sent by ZuÑiga to Philip the Third in September, 1608, the site of a church is indicated enclosed within the fort. Captain Newport employed his mariners in rebuilding this church, "all which works they finished cheerfully and in short time." The time, it appears, was short indeed. Anas Todkill and his collaborators assert that it was "little need they should stay and consume victuall for fourteene days, that the Mariners might say they built such a golden Church, that we can say the raine washed neere to nothing in fourteene days."

Our "docteur of Divinitie" duly records that when Newport departed "Captain Smith and Master Scrivener divided betwixt them the rebuilding Jamestown, the repairing our Pallizadoes, the cutting down trees, preparing our fields for planting our Corne and rebuilding our Church." This, at best only a flimsy affair, was the second Church (we suppose the mariners' work was mended, not destroyed), and the good preacher, Master Hunt, was still alive. The day of his death is not known. He was certainly living in December, 1608, for somebody—and doubtless in the church—then married John Laydon to Ann Burras; and we know of no minister who came over until 1610. In the interval between his death and the arrival of Mr. Bucke, daily prayers, and homilies on Sunday, were said in the church, although there was no minister. We are aware that it behooves us to be pretty careful in this matter of churches, now that the shovels and picks of the Association for the Preservation of Virginia Antiquities are busy with the foundations of the Jamestown churches. They will never find the foundation of the first one, nor of the second, for the very good reason that they had none.

The 20th of April all hands were at work hewing down trees and planting corn, when an alarum from the guard caused every man to drop axe and hoe and take up arms, each one expecting an assault from the savages. But presently a trumpet blast reached the ear, and a ship was seen sailing up the James with the red cross of St. George flying from the masthead. This was the Phoenix, a marine phoenix, rising from the sea after "many perrills of extreame storms and tempests." This happy arrival of Captain Nelson, "having been three months missing after Captain Newport's arrivall, being to all our expectations lost, having been long crossed with tempestuous weather and contrary winds, did so ravish us with exceeding joy that now wee thought ourselves as well fitted as our harts could wish both with a competent number of men as also for all other needful provisions till a further supply could come to us." Captain Francis Nelson, "an honest man and expert mariner," turned his back on the "fantastical gold," and freighted his ship for her return voyage with cedar; and when he sailed for home he took with him the gold-hunting Captain Martin, and Smith's "True Relation of Virginia,"—the first book written by an Englishman in America,—which was printed at the Greyhound in Paul's Churchyard in London.

Our colonists were living so near the Indian Court, that stirring incidents were constantly occurring to prevent indulgence in peace and security. Powhatan soon sent Captain Smith a present of twenty turkeys, upon condition he should in return receive twenty swords. Smith knew that Newport had been most imprudent in putting arms in the Indians' hands, so he accepted the turkeys and returned the usual gifts,—copper kettles, toys, etc.,—at which his Savage Majesty was hugely displeased. He had sent his "Christian" boy, Thomas Savage, with the turkeys, but certain indications of Powhatan's treachery induced Smith to keep the boy. An Indian was captured and frightened into disclosure of Powhatan's plot to murder the English as soon as the Indian Namontack should be returned by Newport. Thefts of spades, shovels, swords, and tools were continually occurring, and it was discovered that Powhatan had received these stolen goods. Finally several Paspaheghans were arrested and imprisoned in the fort. The Indians could never suffer the capture of their men, but would always ransom them with fair words, presents, and promises.

Powhatan, hearing that his braves were detained, "sent his Daughter a child of tenne years old," accompanied by "Rawhunt, exceeding in deformitie of person, but of a subtil wit and crafty understanding," to beg their release. The little girl, he knew, would be refused nothing by the man whose life had been spared for her sake. She had crossed the York in a canoe, and walked twelve miles through the woods. We can see Captain Smith, delighted with the sight of her pretty face and graceful, childish figure, and refreshing her with the best of the dainties Captain Nelson had left. His sympathy with children we have already noticed. Indeed, there is no doubt that Pocahontas was a high favourite with all the colony. No other female, child or woman, ever visited it until Madame Forrest and Ann Burras arrived in the following December,—nearly two years after the coming of the English.

"Rawhunt" (says Smith, whose words are always better than mine), "with a long circumstance told mee how well Powhatan loved and respected mee; and in that I should no doubt any way of his kindnesse, he had sent his child which he most esteemed to see me; a Deare and bread besides for a present: desiring me that the Boy [Savage] might come againe which he loved exceedingly. His little Daughter hee had taught this lesson also, not taking notice at all of the Indeans that had beene prisoners three daies, till that morning that she saw their fathers and friends come quietly, and in good tearmes to entreate their libertie. In the afternoon we guarded them to the Church, and after prayer gave them to Pocahontas, the King's Daughter, in regard of her father's kindnesse in sending her. After having well fed them, as all the time of their imprisonment, we gave them their bowes, arrowes or what else they had and with much content sent them packing. Pocahontas also we requited with such trifles as contented her, to tell that we had used the Paspaheyans very kindly in releasing them."[42] The "Boy" evidently was not returned. The ambassador of a subtle wit and crafty understanding, failed, it appears, to accomplish everything.

I give the age of the little princess as Smith gives it. Other historians have advanced it two years.[43] Yet another class of her admirers fondly hope she was fourteen years of age, for then she would have been old enough to fall in love with Captain Smith, pine at his coldness, break her heart at finding him after her marriage alive, and broken-hearted die in England. I am personally anxious to believe she could have been not more than ten or eleven years old when she came with Rawhunt to beg for the release of the prisoners. Smith says "tenne years old."

It must have been during this summer that she came so often to Jamestown. Strachey, our learned, reliable historian, describes the dress of Indian maids and matrons, and informs us that girls before twelve years of age wore none at all in summer. He says, "the before-mentionde Pocahontas, a well-featured, but wanton young girle, Powhatan's daughter, sometymes resorting to our fort, of the age then of eleven or twelve years; would get the boyes forth with her to the market place, and make them wheele, falling on their hands, turning their heeles upwards; whome she would follow and wheele soe herselfe, naked as she was, all the fort over."

This could not have happened had she been older than eleven or twelve, nor could it have happened in winter. The next summer she would have been too old for such a pastime and such attire. A recent journal tells us that Alphonso of Spain was fond of this sport (wheeling on hands and feet) the summer he went a-wooing before his marriage. I might, therefore, imagine it to be an amusement of royalty, had I not seen little negroes in Virginia excel in it. Evidently it was not given us, by the Indians, along with corn and tobacco. Those wild English "boyes" at the fort taught it to our little American princess, and if Strachey failed to admire her,—to find Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt,—he was unfortunate, besides being wofully in a minority. All the other Englishmen delighted in her, whatever she did; and she cordially liked them, and dearly loved the captain who taught her to call him "father."

We may be sure that she could not have visited the fort so familiarly without attracting the notice and interest of the good missionary and clergyman. An Indian boy named "Chanco" was also a favourite with the colonists, and was the means, like Pocahontas, of rendering essential service to them. Like her he became a Christian; and I can but think that both were taught in their early years by that holy man of God, Robert Hunt. But here the similitude ceases. She saved the life of John Smith, and perhaps one other: he saved the lives of all the colonists at Jamestown. She is justly to be immortalized in bronze on the soil that but for him would have been bathed in Christian blood; yet no statue of Chanco will tell the world of his heroic action.

"There was a little city and few men within it, and there came a great king against it.... Now there was a poor man and he delivered the city—yet no man remembered that poor man."