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.

"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:—

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.