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 "no, no,! slat him not! he shall not die!"' 
 
POCAHONTAS 
 
 A STORY OF VIRGINIA 
 
 BY , 
 
 JOHN R/MUSICK 
 
 AUTHOB OP "COLUMBIA, " " ESTEVAN, " "ST. AUGUSTINE, " 
 ETC., ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS BY P. A. CARTER 
 
 !Neto ¥orfc 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY 
 London and Toronto 
 
 1894 
 Printed in the United States. 
 
f\A-^l5^| 
 
 COPYKIGHT, 1892, BY THE 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY 
 
 [Registered at Stationers' Hall, London, Eng.1 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 In this story the author has followed the plan of 
 the preceding volumes of the series. Fiction is 
 made subordinate to history. The Spanish Este- 
 vans are transformed into the English Stevens, or 
 the Spanish name anglicized, and the story brings 
 the history of the United States dowrj to the coloni- 
 zation of Virginia and the dissolution of the Lon- 
 don Company. Though from the standpoint of a 
 novel Philip Stevens is the hero, yet the real hero 
 is Captain John Smith. Any impartial student of 
 the life and times of Captain Smith will accord 
 him a place among the great men of the world. 
 But Smith was a failure rather than a success. 
 Prejudiced, unprincipled, and envious men contin- 
 ually thwarted him, even when his success insured 
 their happiness. Smith was patriotic, brave, and 
 unselfish. He had no desire to rule for the mere 
 sake of power, but for the welfare of others. He 
 did not succeed in establishing and ruling the 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 colony in Virginia as lie wished. He did not suc- 
 ceed in returning with the army for their protec- 
 tion in 1622. He planned well, executed promptly, 
 but, because of the interference of narrow-minded 
 meddlers, failed. He went through life handi- 
 capped, and justice was never done him, until long 
 after he was beyond praise or condemnation. Smith 
 was unsuccessful in love as well as in business. A 
 careful study of his books and the works of con- 
 temporaneous authors leads one to believe that he 
 passionately loved Pocahontas. That she loved 
 him no one can doubt. That she was deceived by 
 Rolfe and believed Smith dead there can be no 
 question. On her first meeting with Smith after 
 her marriage it required two hours for her to com- 
 pose herself, and then she said: 
 
 " They did tell us always that you were dead, 
 and I knew no better until I came to Plymouth." 
 
 Cheated of her love and deceived by the man 
 who had married her, the poor girl did not long 
 survive the knowledge that Smith lived, but died 
 of a broken heart at Gravesend. 
 
 John R. Musick. 
 
 Kirksville, Mo. , April . 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ie Pirate's Prize 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 4.leigh's Dream 22 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 tflLY, . ... .43 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LMESTOWN, . , , 62 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Fool's Errand, .87 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 \.ptain Smith Captured 16 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 3CAHONTAS, ... . 112 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ENGEANCE OF FRANCIS, ... . 127 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 ie Little Angel 146 
 
Crowning a Forest Emperor, . 
 
 CHAPTER 33. 
 The Traitors, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 The Glass-House Conspiracy, 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 The Fatal Spark, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 The Young Prisoner, 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 The Rose of England and the Totem of Virginia, 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 Death of Pocahontas, 
 
 CHAPTER XVH. 
 Wretched Acadia, 
 
 CHAPTER XVin. 
 From the Dark Continent 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 The Price of a Wife, ...... 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 Conclusion, * . 
 
 Historical Index, 
 
 Chronology, 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "No, no! Slay him not! He shall not die I" (See 
 
 page 121), Frontispiece 
 
 Head-piece, Pocahontas and Captain Smith, . . 1 
 
 "Have you any gold or silver in the house?" . . 8 
 
 Sir Francis Drake, 13 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh 22 
 
 " I did not want to go to sea I" 39 
 
 "Philip, do you know you have a very cruel 
 
 master?" . 46 
 
 The runaway, 51 
 
 "Who are you?" 57 
 
 " I am Captain John Smith, " 68 
 
 Queen Elizabeth, 70 
 
 It was folly to think of holding out longer, . . 103 
 
 " Fire ! fire ! The granary is on fire !" . . . 145 
 
 It was the most undignified coronation on record, . 173 
 
 These men were the chronic grumblers of the colony, 183 
 
 A wild scene of confusion followed, . . . 199 
 He seized one of his hands and drew Captain Smith 
 
 into the boat, . . . 225 
 He watched the shores of Virginia, until they faded 
 
 out of sight 235 
 
 Marriage of Pocahontas, 268 
 
 " Nay, verily, I will not wed my grandfather, " . 331 
 
 Philip and Emily, . . .... 337 
 
 "To the rescue!" cried Philip 345 
 
 Jack o' the Feather, . ..... 350 
 
 Map of the period 296 
 
 vii 
 
^™c^ t i°^ 
 
 CHAPTEE T. 
 
 THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 
 
 Oh, what a set of vagabundos, 
 
 Sons of Neptune, sons of Mars, 
 Raked from Todos Otros Mundos, 
 
 Lascars, Gascons, Portsmouth tars, 
 Prison mate and dock-yard fellow, 
 
 Blades to Meg and Molly dear, 
 Off to capture Porto Bello, 
 
 Sailed with Morgan the Buccaneer ! 
 — E. C. Stedman, in Harper's 
 
 In the forenoon of the 28th of May, 1586, the 
 fleet of Sir Francis Drake, the famous sea rover, 
 who the year before had heen sent from England 
 to attack the Spaniards in America, having ravaged 
 the West Indies, was sailing up the coast of Florida, 
 which he supposed to be uninhabited. Drake 
 hated the Spaniards with a national, patriotic hatred. 
 Considering the cruelty of the age, and the arro- 
 gance of Philip II. of Spain, who, as the husband of 
 1 1 
 
2 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Mary, half sister of the reigning queen of England, 
 had attempted to domineer over the proud Britons, 
 one can hardly blame Drake for hating the Span- 
 iards. Added to the insults of the Spanish monarch 
 was the difference in religion, and a national jeal- 
 ousy over the disputed possessions in the New- 
 World. 
 
 Notwithstanding he sailed under authority of 
 his queen, Drake was no better than a legalized 
 pirate. His business was to devastate Spanish col- 
 onies, sack cities, and destroy fleets, dividing the 
 plunder among his followers, and by this sudden 
 acquisition of wealth causing the sailors to despise 
 the ordinary pay of a seaman. Drake was a terror 
 to the Spaniards everywhere, and long after his 
 death, in 1595, Spanish nurses used the name of 
 Drake as a bugaboo to frighten children, represent- 
 ing him as a devouring dragon. Although he is 
 honored for his enterprise and the glory he won 
 for England, being the founder of the Eoyal Navy, 
 Sir Francis Drake is regarded by all historians as 
 only a daring pirate. He was so regarded by some 
 of the best people of the time, for Camden says, 
 " Nothing troubled him more than that some of the 
 chief men at court refused to accept the gold which 
 he offered them, as gotten by piracy." 
 
 Such was the man whom we find in command of 
 the large fleet sailing along the Florida coast. He 
 
THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 8 
 
 knew that the French Huguenots had, a little over 
 twenty years before, planted a colony at some place 
 called Carolina in Florida; but he had not heard 
 that the Spaniards had come and swept the Hu- 
 guenots into eternity, and subsequently that the 
 French, under the fiery Gascon de Grourges, had 
 suddenly appeared on the coast and in turn swept 
 away the Spaniards. Here the story ended so far 
 as Sir Francis Drake's knowledge went. He little 
 dreamed that in that vast wilderness, along which 
 he was sailing, there were people, forts, houses, 
 and towns. He knew not that men and women of 
 his own complexion dwelt there; that within those 
 everglades beat warm hearts; that kind parents, 
 beautfiul maids, gallant lovers, and ambitious 
 'politicians were hidden beneath the dense tropical 
 foliage. He scarce gave the wilderness a passing 
 thought, and never suspected that it would one 
 day become a part of a mighty nation. 
 
 Suddenly the lookout called the attention of Sir 
 Francis to an object on the coast near an inlet or 
 mouth of a river. The strange object was discov- 
 ered by half the fleet at once, and everybody knew 
 it could not be an Indian structure, or a thing of 
 natural growth. The admiral gave orders for his 
 fleet to stand into shore until he investigated it, 
 and soon he was near enough to discover that the 
 strange object was a scaffold arranged on four high 
 
4 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 masts; evidently a lookout station from which the 
 inhabitants had a view of the sea. 
 
 Drake at once signalled the fleet to lay to, and 
 summoned aboard his vessel Vice- Admiral Martin 
 Frobisher and Eear-Admiral Francis Knolles, to 
 consult in regard to the discovery. People could 
 be seen running about the shore in great haste, as if 
 excited, and there was little doubt that they had 
 unexpectedly come upon a Spanish colony. 
 
 " I supposed that the Spaniards had abandoned 
 Florida," said Drake; "but such is not the case. 
 On this river there is a settlement, and, perchance, 
 there may be other Spanish settlements on other 
 parts of the coast, all of which we must destroy; 
 for as we have colonies in Virginia, it is not good 
 that they should have such near Spanish neigh- 
 bors." 
 
 Frobisher and Knolles both entertained his 
 views, and Drake ordered the pinnaces to make a 
 reconnoisance. Consequently, loaded with armed 
 men and led by Martin Frobisher, the pinnaces en- 
 tered the inlet or mouth of the San Juan, now St. 
 John Eiver, and came in full view of the fort called 
 San Juan de Pinos, formerly St. Mattheo, by the 
 Spanish, and originally known as Fort Carolinia 
 by the French Huguenots, which a little more than 
 twenty years before had been drenched with blood. 
 
 From the walls of the fort came the flash of cul- 
 
THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 5 
 
 verins, and iron balls went whizzing over the heads 
 of the English sailors. The thunder of artillery 
 seemed only to inspire them to greater deeds of 
 daring. With their muskets they leaped on shore 
 and opened fire on the fort, aided by two or three 
 pieces of artillery from the pinnaces. The Span- 
 iards in San Juan or Mattheo were panic-stricken at 
 the approach of the English, and from the first it 
 became evident that they would not make a stand. 
 At the head of his musketeers, Erobisher boldly 
 advanced on the fort, from which the inhabitants 
 fled. The very name of Drake seemed to unnerve 
 them. In the fort were found fourteen brass 
 cannons, and about two thousand pounds sterling 
 in gold, which, with such other valuables as could 
 be hastily gathered together, were transferred to 
 Drake's fleet. 
 
 From two prisoners captured at San Juan, Drake 
 learned that the inhabitants had fled to St. Augus- 
 tine, on the river of that name, and thither he de- 
 termined to pursue them. Consequently his fleet 
 changed its course and steered for St. Augustine. 
 Being favored by wind and tide they soon appeared 
 before the town. Though their appearance was 
 rather sudden, their visit was not wholly unlooked 
 for. Drake sailed into the mouth of the river and 
 sent the pinnaces to the attack; but the resistance 
 was so stubborn that he was compelled to send 
 
6 . POCAHONTAS. 
 
 heavier guns and a larger force to the work. The 
 ships were hauled close in, and proceeded to bom- 
 bard the town. 
 
 The exasperated English admiral ordered Fro- 
 bisher to land below with a thousand picked men, 
 suddenly fall on the Spaniards from the rear, and 
 sweep them from existence. 
 
 Frobisher hastened to do Drake's bidding, and, 
 with a thousand picked men, landed below the 
 town to make the final assault. All the while 
 there was a constant cannonading from the ships. 
 The walls of the fort were crumbling, houses were 
 falling, and one or two were on fire. Suddenly, by 
 a preconcerted signal which the beleaguered people 
 could not understand, the firing from the ships 
 ceased. While the amazed Spaniards were in 
 doubt whether to expect victory or defeat, there 
 suddenly burst on their ears a yell that seemed to 
 shake the earth, and a band of daring soldiers 
 rushed on them with death-dealing guns and flash- 
 ing swords. They fled without further resistance. 
 Men, women, and children, all who could fly, 
 rushed from the town. In their mad flight the 
 most selfish nature of mankind was displayed. 
 Husbands forgot their wives, and mothers their 
 children, and all was confusion and horror. 
 
 When Drake and Frobisher entered the town it 
 presented a sad appearance. Here and there lay a 
 
THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 7 
 
 mangled form. Occasionally they came upon a 
 house that was battered down, or smoking ruins 
 marked where another had burned. 
 
 "While his men were plundering the town, Drake 
 was attracted to a small but neat house which stood 
 apart from the others. One or two cannon-shot 
 had passed through the roof, but the walls had es- 
 caped the shot of the English. It was evidently 
 the home of a poor man, for there was nothing 
 elegant about it, yet with all its plainness it was 
 neat, cozy, and home-like. Perhaps it was the 
 quiet unostentatiousness of the house itself, which 
 attracted the attention of the great English seaman. 
 With sword in hand he advanced to the door and 
 pushing it open, entered. The internal appearance 
 was in keeping with the exterior, neat and comfor- 
 table. On the wall hung a matchlock, sword, 
 buckler, and casque. A halberd leaned in one 
 corner of the room. There were other than war- 
 like appearances in the apartment, for it bore evi- 
 dences of neat, careful housewifery, though no 
 wife or husband was visible. 
 
 The house was not uninhabited however. Upon 
 a low bed in one corner of the room was a small 
 child about two years old, trying to hide his ter- 
 rified face in the bed-clothes, while at his side 
 stood a little fellow three years his senior, with 
 large black eyes, long curly hair, and handsome 
 
POCAHONTAS. 
 
 face. He seemed undaunted by the scenes of car- 
 nage about him. He fixed his great eyes for a 
 moment on the admiral, and then allowed them to 
 droop to the floor, realizing that he was confronted . 
 by an enemy whom he was powerless to resist. 
 For a moment Sir Francis Drake gazed at the oc- 
 cupants of the room, and then, mustering up all the 
 Spanish he knew, asked: 
 
 "Are you alone?" 
 
 For a moment the eldest boy raised his great, 
 dark eyes to the admiral's face, then letting his 
 glance once more fall to the floor, answered: 
 
 "We are." 
 
 "Where are your parents?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 "Have you any gold or silver in the house?" 
 
 Again the child raised his curly head, pointed 
 to a large oak chest which stood in a corner of the 
 room, and turned to soothe his frightened brother. 
 
 "You are a bright little fellow," said Drake 
 after giving the chest a glance, lifting one end of it 
 with his hand, and finding it quite heavy. "Yes, 
 you are a pretty boy, tell me your name?" 
 
 The little fellow, who no doubt expected death 
 at the hands of his stern conqueror, answered, in 
 an unfaltering voice: 
 
 "Philip Estevan." 
 
 "And is this your brother?" 
 
'HAVE YOU ANY GOLD OK SILVER IN THE HOUSE?' 
 
THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 9 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " What is his name?" 
 
 "Mattheo Bstevan." 
 
 "Can you tell me your father's name?" 
 
 At this Philip seemed to hesitate before he an- 
 swered: 
 
 "Francisco Estevan." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 " Did he leave at our approach, or during the 
 attack?" 
 
 Shaking his head the child answered: 
 
 "He went before." 
 
 "And you know not where?" 
 
 The little boy looked as if he did not fully com- 
 prehend the question of Drake. The admiral 
 then asked: 
 
 "Do you know why he went?" 
 
 The little face brightened with intelligence, and 
 he answered that his father was sent away with 
 others by the governor, to relieve some fugitives 
 from San Juan de Pinos on their way to St. Au- 
 gustine. 
 
 "And your mother, when did she go away?" 
 
 The little fellow, having overcome his embarrass- 
 ment, answered that his mother had accompanied 
 his father, for some of the women, driven from San 
 Juan de Pinos, were lying sick in the woods and 
 
10 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 required nursing. It took considerable time to get 
 all this from the child, who was averse to talking. 
 
 "Did you ever hear of Drake?" asked the ad- 
 miral. The little fellow nodded his head. " What 
 do you think of him?" 
 
 "He is a bad man." 
 
 "Would you like to see him?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You must." 
 
 " I don't want to see him," the child said. " He 
 is a bad, cruel .man." 
 
 "I am Drake, that cruel monster who your old 
 women say devours people." 
 
 At this the younger child began to cry and call 
 for his parents, who, far away on an errand of 
 mercy, little dreamed of danger threatening their 
 loved ones at home. The elder brother, unmoved 
 by fear, sought to soothe Mattheo by assurances 
 that he should not be harmed. Even the stern, 
 cruel Drake was touched by the love and courage of 
 the elder brother, and the confiding trust of Mat- 
 theo, who ceased to sob, and clung to Philip's neck. 
 For a single moment a smile played on the face of 
 the stern, bold man, and then he asked: 
 
 "How would you like to go away with me?" 
 
 "I do not wish to go," Philip answered. 
 " Father and mother would not find me when they 
 come home." 
 
THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 11 
 
 "You must go." 
 
 "I cannot leave my little brother." 
 
 "I will take him also." 
 
 At this Mattheo began to scream and cry, say- 
 ing that he would be devoured by the terrible 
 Drake. 
 
 "Silence!" roared the admiral. "You shall 
 both go with me to England, and learn that Drake 
 is not the devouring dragon your people have rep- 
 resented him." 
 
 The youngest child, trembling with dread, clung 
 to his brother and ceased to cry, while Philip 
 stood with his great, sad eyes on the floor. 
 
 Drake turned again to the old oak chest, in 
 which the oldest boy had intimated there was gold, 
 and again lifted one end of it. Letting down the 
 end he had raised, he said: 
 
 "It is very heavy; there must be great treasure 
 in there." 
 
 Going to the door of the house, he saw his men 
 running about the town, pillaging public and pri- 
 vate houses. Calling to four stout sailors, he bade 
 them come and carry the chest on board his ship, 
 while he led the two little captives to the boat 
 and sent them aboard. 
 
 St. Augustine was plundered, many of the 
 houses burned, and the once prosperous settlement 
 laid waste. Sir Francis Drake went aboard of his 
 
12 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 vessel and there held a consultation with his rear- 
 and vice-admirals. 
 
 "Have you learned of any other Spanish settle- ■ 
 ments?" he asked. 
 
 "I have," Frobisher answered. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "There is one twelve leagues up the coast." 
 
 " How did you learn of it?" asked Drake. 
 
 "From a wounded Spaniard." 
 
 "What is the name of the settlement?" 
 
 "St. Helena." 
 
 "We will destroy it also. I will never cease to 
 war with the Spaniards while one of them remains 
 in the New World." 
 
 Orders were issued for the fleet to repair without 
 delay to St. Helena, and Drake went to his cabin 
 to study his imperfect map of the coast. On open- 
 ing the door he espied the Spanish children clasped 
 in each other's arms, Philip bravely striving to 
 soothe the fears of his little brother. Drake 
 scarce gave them a thought. He cared not what 
 the grief of the unhappy parents might be, when, 
 on their return from alleviating the suffering of 
 others, they would find that the despoiler had en- 
 tered their quiet home in their absence and borne 
 away their darlings. 
 
 " Stop your howling, or I will fling you over- 
 board," he growled, and little Mattheo clung to 
 
THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 
 
 18 
 
 his brother and shut his eyes so that he could not 
 see the terrible monster. So long did he keejj 
 them shut that he fell asleep, and the old ship 
 rolled on over the waves bearing them far from 
 home and loving parents. After a few hours 
 beating against head-winds and adverse tides, Sir 
 Francis again summoned 
 his vice admiral and 
 ashed : 
 
 " Have we a pilot who 
 can conduct us safely 
 through these intricate 
 and dangerous shoals to 
 St. Helena?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then we must aban- 
 don the expedition. This 
 is the most dangerous 
 part of the coast, and 
 without a pilot acquainted with it, we might 
 wreck the entire fleet." 
 
 "What; course have you determined on, ad- 
 miral?" asked Frobisher. 
 
 " We will steer for Eoanoke, where the queen 
 directs us to relieve Sir Walter Ealeigh's colony." 
 
 Martin Frobisher went to his own ship, and in 
 half an hour the entire fleet was sailing up the 
 coast toward the island of Eoanoke. 
 
 Sib Francis Drake. 
 
14 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 No permanent English settlement, up to this 
 period, had been established in America. There 
 had been various voyages to the New World, and 
 Sir Walter Raleigh had succeeded in planting a 
 colony on the island of Eoanoke, where it was ex- 
 isting precariously under Ealph Lane, a man of 
 considerable distinction, and so much esteemed for 
 his services as a soldier that he was afterward 
 knighted by Queen Elizabeth. The colonists at 
 Eoanoke, like all other emigrants to America in 
 those days, were mad for gold, and a wily savage 
 lured them by such tales as that the Eiver Eoanoke 
 gushed from a rock near the Pacific where a surge 
 of the ocean sometimes dashed into its fountain- 
 head, and that its banks were inhabited by a nation 
 skilled in the art of refining rich ore with which 
 the country abounded. The walls of their cities 
 were described as glittering with pearls. To one 
 who studies the traditions of the Indians along the 
 Atlantic seaboard, this story may not appear to be 
 wholly an invention of the savages of Eoanoke. 
 Nearly every tribe on the Atlantic coast made ref- 
 erence to some great tribe, either in the interior 
 or on the South Sea, who possessed gold, lived in 
 houses, and enjoyed many comforts unknown to 
 them. It is quite probable that the Indians of the 
 Atlantic coast had reference to the Aztecs of 
 Mexico. 
 
THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 15 
 
 Lane was so credulous as to believe the Indian's 
 story, and made an effort to ascend the rapid cur- 
 rent of the Boanoke, which journey was prosecuted 
 till their stores of provisions were exhausted and 
 they were compelled to kill and eat their dogs. 
 They advanced no further than the present village 
 of Williamstown, Va. , when compelled by famine 
 to return. The sudden return of Lane and his 
 party frustrated a well-laid plan of the Indians, to 
 fall upon the English colony during his absence 
 and destroy it. Finding that they dare not attack 
 the white foe, the Indians next conceived the plan 
 of leaving their lands unplanted, in order that, as 
 the whites depended on them for food, famine 
 might compel their departure. This suggestion 
 was defeated by the moderation of one of their 
 aged chiefs, though the feeling of enmity was not 
 in the slightest abated. The English, fearing that 
 the natives were forming a grand alliance to destroy 
 them by a general massacre, asked an audience 
 with "Wingina, the most active among the native 
 chiefs, and Lane and his attendants were readily 
 admitted to his presence, on the 1st of June, 1580. 
 Although there was no sign of hostile interition 
 by the Indians, at a preconcerted signal the Eng- 
 lishmen fell on the unhappy king and his principal 
 followers and put them to death. This atrocious 
 <deed profited them nothing, as it seemed to only 
 
16 POCAHONTAS- 
 
 rouse the indignation of the Indians and make them 
 more hostile. 
 
 Lane's colony was a failure and his explorations 
 inconsiderable. To the South they only extended 
 to the Secotan, in the present county of Craven, 
 between the Pamlico and Neuse. At the north 
 they reached the river Elizabeth, which joins the 
 Chesapeake Bay at Hampton Roads; while in the 
 interior, the Chowan had been examined beyond 
 the junction of the Meherin and Nottoway. Some 
 general results of importance had been obtained, 
 however. The climate proved so healthful that 
 during the year not more than four died, and 
 of these three brought the seeds of their disease 
 with them from Europe. The hope of finding bet- 
 ter harbors at the north was confirmed, and the 
 Chesapeake Bay, though long since discovered by 
 the Spanish, was first made known to the English 
 by the expedition of Lane up the Roanoke. The 
 colonists began to despond, looking in vain toward 
 the ocean for supplies from England. They were 
 sighing for their native land, when on the 8th day 
 of June, seven days after the cruel assassination of 
 Wingina and his followers, it was rumored that a 
 monster fleet of twenty-three sail was beating up the 
 coast against adverse winds and tides. So slowly 
 did the fleet approach, that it was three days after 
 being sighted before Sir Erancis Drake anchored 
 
THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 17 
 
 his vessels outside of Roanoke Inlet in "the wild 
 road of their bad harbor." 
 
 Sir Francis Drake went on shore and was greeted 
 with demonstrations of joy by the colonists, who 
 regarded him as their deliverer from starvation. 
 "When Lane had escorted the admiral to his house, 
 Drake inquired: 
 
 "How are you getting along?" 
 
 " Badly enough, Sir Francis. The Indians re- 
 fuse to supply us with food, and, having received 
 none from home, we began to fear we should per- 
 ish of hunger." 
 
 "I have brought you an abundance," said 
 Drake. "And in addition will leave with you a 
 vessel, pinnaces, and small boats, with two or three 
 experienced sea-captains to explore the bays and 
 river." 
 
 "Where have you been, Sir Francis?" Lane 
 asked. 
 
 " To the West Indies, humbling the Spaniards. 
 I also destroyed two of their colonies in Florida, 
 one at San Juan de Pinos, the other at St. Augus- 
 tine. We now believe we have driven them com- 
 pletely out of Virginia." 
 
 "Did you take any prisoners?" 
 
 "A few, and among them are two children, 
 taken at St. Augustine, whom I had quite for- 
 gotten." 
 2 
 
18 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Sir Francis had not yet examined the chest 
 brought from the house of Estevan; but he deter- 
 mined to do so at his first opportunity. That 
 night, as he went on board, curiosity prompted him 
 to take a peep into the room occupied by the little 
 captives. Philip sat on the side of the bunk, 
 holding the head of his infant brother on his knee. 
 Mattheo had sobbed himself to sleep. If Drake 
 had not possessed a heart of stone the sight of the 
 children would have moved him to pity. Poor 
 mother! how she mourned the loss of her curly- 
 haired darlings, doomed to a fate worse than death ! 
 But as Joseph sold into slavery was destined to 
 become a character in the history of subsequent 
 national events, so were these Spanish children. 
 
 Leaving the children, Drake went to his state- 
 room, and was about to commence an examination 
 of the mysterious chest, when they were struck by 
 one of those sudden squalls, which threatened the 
 whole fleet, so they were compelled to weigh anchor 
 and stand out to sea. When the tempest was over, 
 nothing could be found of the boats and vessel set 
 apart for the colony. Drake returned to Roanoke 
 and offered to supply Lane and the colonists with 
 another vessel and means for continuing their dis- 
 coveries; but Lane shared the despondency of his 
 men, and Drake yielded to their unanimous desire 
 to embark in his ship for England. This ter- 
 
THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 19 
 
 minated the first English settlement in America, if 
 it can be called one, The exiles of twelve months 
 had learned something of the country and the 
 habits and customs of the Indians, and had acquired 
 the habit of using tobacco, which soon became quite 
 popular in Europe. Had they remained a few 
 days longer ample supplies and recruits would have 
 arrived, and perhaps the settlement at Roanoke 
 would have become permanent. 
 
 Drake's fleet bore away to England, where the 
 colonists were sent to their friends, and the two 
 children captured at St. Augustine taken to Ply- 
 mouth. Here Drake for the first time examined 
 the oak chest, and the result was disappointing. 
 It contained but very little gold or silver, a few 
 family relics, and a manuscript in Spanish pur- 
 porting to be the "Narrative and Discourses of 
 Francisco Estevan." Out of curiosity Drake had 
 the manuscript translated, and read a wild strange 
 story about a young Spaniard born at San Jago, 
 Cuba, who was designed by his parents for a priest. 
 He went to Spain to study for the cloister, and 
 while on a voyage to Eome was wrecked on the 
 coast of France and rescued by a Huguenot maiden, 
 with whom he fell in love. Then came long years 
 of wild thrilling adventures, the fall of Fort Caro- 
 linia in Florida, a long struggle between love and 
 duty, and the final marriage and settlement of the 
 
20 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 priest at St. Augustine. It was a strange, romantic 
 story; but to an active manlike Sir Francis Drake, 
 it could not have much interest. 
 
 For a time he was at a loss how to dispose of his 
 little prisoners. There was not money and jewels 
 enough in the chest to pay the expense of bringing 
 the children to England. Their Spanish name 
 Estevan was anglicized to Stevens. Mattheo 
 Estevan, or Mathew Stevens, was apprenticed to 
 Mr. John Eobinson, an excellent gentleman, and a 
 Puritan of noted piety, who paid the little fellow's 
 passage to prevent his falling into worse hands. 
 He also bought the old oak chest, which he thought 
 at some time might be valuable to the child. As 
 our story has nothing to do with Mathew, we will 
 state here that he could not have fallen into better 
 hands. He was soon reconciled to his new state, 
 and came to love his foster-parents as he had his 
 real father and mother. 
 
 A harder fate awaited poor Philip. He was 
 disposed of before Mr. Eobinson came to take 
 Mathew away, to a man named Henry Francis, a 
 Hollander by birth, who had come to live in Eng- 
 land. Francis was on Drake's ship on the voyage 
 to the West Indies. He was a miserly, unscrupu- 
 lous villain, whose name is connected with the early 
 history of Virginia in a most unenviable way. 
 He was naturally cruel, and at an early age Philip 
 
THE PIRATES' PRIZE. 21 
 
 was apprenticed by this hard master to "White, a 
 sea-captain, and sent off on a voyage to a new 
 colony planted at Eoanoke. 
 
 "He shall early learn to earn the bread he eats," 
 Francis declared. 
 
 As the child saw the shores of England, where 
 he had left his little brother, fade away, and came 
 to realize that in all probability he would never 
 see him again, tears silently coursed down his 
 young, tender cheeks. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Who in time knows whither we may vent 
 The treasures of our tongue? To what strange shores 
 This gain of our best glory shall be sent 
 T' enrich unknown nations with our stores? 
 What worlds, in th' yet unformed Occident, 
 May come refine with th' accents that are ours. 
 
 —Daniel. 
 
 England was slow to take possession of the New 
 World after its discovery. There were many causes 
 
 for the backwardness of 
 ;, that country which has 
 
 ' since become the mistress 
 
 ■y 
 
 of the sea. While Co- 
 lumbus was pleading his 
 cause (for a while without 
 effect) at the throne of 
 Ferdinand and Isabella, 
 
 his brother Bartholomew 
 Sib Walter Ralejgh. wag ^ for Mm the 
 
 same favor from Henry VII. of England. The 
 king listened to his proposition with a more favor- 
 able ear than could have been expected from a 
 
RALEIGH'S DREAM. 23 
 
 cautious, distrustful prince, averse by habit as well 
 as temper to new and hazardous enterprises. He 
 was induced more easily to approve a voyage for 
 discovery proposed by some of his own subjects, 
 soon after the return of Christopher Columbus. 
 
 Though the English had spirit enough to form 
 the scheme, they had not at that period attained to 
 such skill in navigation as qualified them for carry- 
 ing it into execution. In the infancy of naviga- 
 tion, Henry could not commit the conduct of an 
 armament, destined to explore unknown regions, to 
 his own subjects. He invested Giovanni Gaboto, 
 a Venetian adventurer who had settled in Bristol, 
 with the chief command, and issued a commission 
 to him and his three sons, empowering them to 
 sail under the banner of England, toward the east, 
 north, or west, in order to discover countries un- 
 occupied by any Christian state, to take possession 
 of them in his name and to carry on an exclusive 
 trade with the inhabitants, under condition of pay- 
 ing one-fifth of the free profit on every voyage to 
 the crown. This commission was granted on 
 March 5th, 1495, less than two years after the re- 
 turn of Columbus from America; but Cabot, for 
 that is the name he assumed in England and by 
 which he is best known, did not set out on his 
 voyage for two years. With his second son, Sebas- 
 tian, he embarked at Bristol on board a ship fur- 
 
24 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 nished by the king, and was accompanied by four 
 small barks fitted out by the merchants of that 
 city. 
 
 Like all other navigators of the period, the 
 Cabots were imbued with the idea of opening a 
 new and shorter passage to the East Indies by hold- 
 ing a direct western course. The opinions which 
 Columbus had formed concerning the islands he 
 had discovered were universally received. They 
 were supposed to lie contiguous to the great conti- 
 nent of India and to constitute a part of the vast 
 countries comprehended under the general name. 
 Cabot accordingly deemed it probable that, by. 
 steering to the northwest, he might reach India by a 
 course shorter than Columbus had taken, and he 
 hoped to fall in with the coast of Cathay, or China, 
 of whose fertility and opulence the descriptions of 
 Marco Polo had excited high ideas. His first dis- 
 covery was Newfoundland, where he landed, ex- 
 amined the country and products, and carried away 
 three of the natives. Then he sailed westward, 
 reaching the continent of North America and sail- 
 ing along the coast from the fifty-sixth to the 
 thirty-eighth degree of latitude, from the coast of 
 Labrador to Virginia; but as he was seeking that 
 northwestern passage to India, which has so long 
 been an unsolved problem to navigators, it appears 
 that he did not land. 
 
RALEIGH'S DREAM. 25 
 
 Had Henry VII. prosecuted the design of the 
 commission given to Cabot, he could have taken 
 possession of the countries discovered by the 
 Cabots, as his subjects were undoubtedly the first 
 to discover the country; but on his return to Eng- 
 land Cabot found the king's inclination and state 
 of affairs changed. Henry was involved in a war 
 with Scotland, which engrossed much of his atten- 
 tion and energies. An embassador from Ferdi- 
 nand of Arragon was then in London, and as 
 Henry set a high value upon the friendship of that 
 monarch, for whose character he professed much 
 admiration, and was trying to strengthen their 
 union by a marriage betwen his eldest son and the 
 Princess Catharine, which afterward took place, he 
 was cautious not to give any offence to a prince 
 jealous of all his rights. From the position of the 
 islands and continent which Cabot had discovered, 
 it was evident that they lay within the limits of 
 the ample donation which the bounty of Pope 
 Alexander VI. had conferred upon Ferdinand 
 and Isabella. No ' person in that age questioned 
 the validity of a papal grant. Theology, like 
 a cast-iron machine, was utterly inflexible. It 
 fashioned social life in its most minute details. 
 The people were simply passive portions of that 
 machine, obedient to the ecclesiastical movers. 
 The monastery governed the throne and its subjects 
 
26 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 as a rigid master, and for centuries there had been 
 very little improvement in the condition of the 
 inhabitants. During the reign of Henry VII. 
 America belonged to Spain; but at last the' light 
 of that moral volcano which suddenly burst out in 
 Germany shot across western Europe, and awoke 
 the sluggish British mind from repose. Blind 
 faith gave place to reason. The secular revolt as- 
 sumed formidable proportions, and at the close of 
 the same year, when the right of private judg- 
 # ment was proclaimed at Spires, the English House 
 of Commons presented a petition to Henry VIII. 
 containing the germs of the English Reformation. 
 It accused the clergy of disloyalty and immorality, 
 and attributed the disorder which affected the realm 
 to the malign influence of the ecclesiastics. The 
 king presented the petition to 'the bishops for 
 answer, and received one arrogant and offensive 
 to the House of Commons. The latter stood firm 
 in the position of the accuser and champion for the 
 laity, and waged a bitter war with the clergy. 
 Henry VIII., stimulated by his love for Anne 
 Boleyn, and angered by the opposition of the 
 church to his unholy scheme of divorcement from 
 his queen, united with the Commons and employed 
 the resolute Thomas Cromwell to lead a move- 
 ment for the disseverance of the civil government 
 of England from the controlling spiritual power 
 
RALEIGH' 8 DREAM. 27 
 
 of Rome. Cromwell, sanctioned and assisted by 
 Parliament, did so with a high. hand. Parliament 
 suppressed all the monasteries in the kingdom, 
 confiscated their property, and compelled the eccle- 
 siastics to work for their own sustenance. 
 
 "Go spin, jades! go spin!" was the answer of 
 Cromwell to some aged nuns, when asked how they 
 would support themselves. By law, Henry was 
 made the supreme head of the church in Eng- 
 land — a pontiff of a church in rebellion — and so 
 was established the principle that common or ec- 
 clesiastical laws must be subordinate to the civil 
 laws. 
 
 On his marriage with Catharine, the daughter of 
 Ferdinand and Isabella, Henry VIII. surrendered 
 to his father-in-law the services of Sebastian Cabot; 
 but by sundering his political connection with Spain 
 he opened up the New World to English rivalry. 
 There is an account of an expedition, in 1536, con- 
 ducted by Hore of London, and assisted by the 
 good countenance of Henry VIII. The voyagers 
 only reached Newfoundland, and the expedition 
 was of little consequence; 
 
 The accession of Edward, in 1547, and the con- 
 sequent ascendency of Protestantism mark, the era 
 when England began to foreshadow her maritime 
 superiority. In the first year of Edward's reign, 
 the council advanced a hundred pounds for Cabot, 
 
28 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 " a pilot to come out of Hispain to serve and in- 
 habit England." In the second year a special act 
 was obtained making the Newfoundland fisheries, 
 which had begun to grow in importance, free. 
 While Cabot sought in vain for the northwestern 
 passage to India, he seemed to set no special value 
 on his discoveries, nor were any attempts made at 
 colonization. Sir Hugh "Willoughby, in an at- 
 tempt to follow the instructions of Cabot, perished 
 with all his men. 
 
 The accession of Queen Mary, bigoted Catholic 
 as she was, and much as she tended toward rec- 
 ognizing the papal bull which bequeathed the 
 western hemisphere to Spain, could not wholly check 
 the English passion for maritime adventure. Her 
 marriage with King Philip of Spain brought Eng- 
 lish sailors into close acquaintance with the New 
 World through Spanish historians. 
 
 It was not until the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 
 however, that England, wholly freed from the 
 shackles of papal influence, found herself able to 
 take advantage of the discoveries under Cabot. 
 Elizabeth, like a shrewd politician, concealed her 
 religious convictions until she was firmly seated on 
 the throne; when her Protestant views became 
 pronounced, and Spain was not long in learning 
 that England would not regard as binding the bull 
 of Alexander Y. 
 
RALEIGH'S DREAM. 29 
 
 Sir Humphrey Gilbert, a student of geography, 
 "reposing from the toils of war," wrote a plausible 
 argument in favor of a possibility of a northwest- 
 ern passage to India. Martin Frobisher, a bold 
 English sailor, entertained the same views, es- 
 teeming it the only thing in the world that was 
 yet left undone, by which "a notable minde might 
 be made famous and fortunate." After many years 
 of struggle, he obtained a hearing at court, and was 
 furnished two small barks and a pinnace of ten 
 tons burden. As he dropped down the Thames, 
 June 8th, 1576, Queen Elizabeth waved her hand 
 in token of favor, and by an honorable message 
 transmitted her approbation of an adventure which 
 her own treasure had not helped to advance. 
 Though the pinnace was lost in a storm and the 
 other vessel turned back, Frobisher reached Lab- 
 rador and entered Hudson's Bay. He returned 
 with some stanes and rubbish which the refiners of 
 London pronounced to contain gold. There was 
 the wildest excitement, for America was thought 
 to be rich in gold mines, and on the 27th of May, 
 1577, a fleet embarked for the Arctic Eldorado. 
 The only result of this voyage was a cargo of 
 stones, dirt, and useless rubbish. The mad desire 
 for gold was the cause of other voyages as foolish 
 as this one. 
 
 There was one, however, who was not dazzled 
 
30 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 by dreams of finding gold in the frozen regions of 
 the north. Sir Humphrey Gilbert, with sounder 
 judgment and better knowledge, watched the prog- 
 ress pf the fisheries, and formed healthy plans for 
 colonization. On June 11th, 1578, he obtained a 
 patent, formed according to commercial theories of 
 that day, and to be of perpetual efficacy, if a plan- 
 tation should be established within six years. 
 
 The rights of Englishmen were to be extended 
 to all people who might belong to his colony. 
 After his company had been selected there were 
 some disputes, and part of the crew abandoned the 
 expedition; but in 1579, with a few friends, and 
 among them his young step-brother, Walter Eal- 
 eigh, afterward Sir Walter Ealeigh, he put to 
 sea. After the loss of one ship they were com- 
 pelled to return from stress of weather. 
 
 Ealeigh was a pupil of Coligni, and had given 
 the Huguenots in France moral and substantial aid 
 in their struggles with Catherine de Medici and 
 the Duke of Guise. Gilbert, like Ealeigh, was a 
 Protestant and believed that heaven designed the 
 New World for Protestants. On June 13th, 1579, 
 Gilbert again sailed with a fleet furnished partly 
 by Ealeigh, who remained in England. Though 
 shamefully deserted by a part of his colony, Gil- 
 bert reached Newfoundland August 5th, and enter- 
 ing the St. Johns, he summoned the Spaniards 
 
RALEIGH'S DREAM. 31 
 
 and the Portuguese there to witness that he took 
 possession of the country in the name of his sover- 
 eign. On the voyage down the coast their largest 
 vessel was wrecked, and nearly a hundred men lost. 
 Sir Humphrey took refuge in the Squirrel, a little 
 vessel of ten tons. Buffeting the waves until the 
 flotilla was dispersed, he turned the prow of his 
 little vessel homeward, with another named the 
 Hind. On a September day when a gale was rising, 
 the two vessels were within speaking .distance of 
 each other. Gilbert was last seen sitting abaft with 
 a book in his hand, and in reply to a shout from 
 the commander of the Hind, that they were in 
 great peril, Answered: 
 
 "We are as near heaven on the sea as on the 
 land." 
 
 The gale increased; night fell, and at midnight 
 the lights of the Squirrel suddenly went out. The 
 little bark had doubtless gone down, as nothing was 
 ever heard of it afterward. The Hind was the only 
 vessel of the squadron left, and pursued her lonely 
 way to England with the sad story of disertion and 
 disaster. 
 
 Ealeigh was not a man to be deterred by disaster. 
 He realized that there can be no great achievement 
 without labor and sacrifice, and having become a 
 favorite with the queen, before whom he had gal- 
 lantly spread his mantle in the mud, she granted 
 
33 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 him a charter, in April, 1584, similar to the char- 
 ter granted Sir Humphrey Gilbert, but covering 
 lands further south. It constituted Ealeigh lord 
 proprietor of all countries between the Delaware 
 Bay and the mouth of the Santee Eiver in South 
 Carolina. The Huguenots escaping from Fort 
 Charles were picked up by the English, and from 
 them Elizabeth heard wonderful stories of the 
 fruitfulness of Florida. Laudonniere, Challus, 
 and Le Moyne, flying from Melendes at Fort Caro- 
 linia, had tarried awhile in England, and from all 
 these sources Raleigh gained a favorable report of 
 the southern part of the present United States, 
 known as Florida. 
 
 Two ships were fitted out, and in June, 1584, 
 Arthur Barlow, a skilful mariner, was placed in 
 command, assisted by Philip Amidas, of French 
 descent, but born in England. They were directed 
 to explore the coast and select a suitable place for 
 settlement. This fleet pursued a southern course 
 and approached the American coast in the latitude 
 of Florida. Turning northward, they sailed up 
 the coast along the Gulf Stream, and, entering the 
 Ocracoke Inlet, anchored off Wococken Island in 
 July. Barlow landed and set up a small column 
 with the British arms rudely carved upon it, and^ 
 waving over it the banner of England in the pres- 
 ence of the wondering natives, took possession of 
 
RALEIGH'S DREAM. 33 
 
 the whole country, islands, continents, hays, and 
 sounds, in the name of his queen. 
 
 On Eoanoke Island the Englishmen were hospi- 
 tably entertained by the mother of King Wingina, 
 for the king chanced to be absent. Everything 
 on the island and mainland was charming to the 
 Englishmen. Nature was garnished in all her 
 summer wealth, and the eyes of the white men 
 were greeted with marvellous beauties on every 
 hand. Magnificent trees were draped with luxuriant 
 vines clustered with growing grapes, and the forest 
 swarmed with birds of sweetest songs and gayest 
 plumage. After gaining what information they 
 could of the country, Barlow and Amidas departed 
 for England with their company, attended by two 
 of the natives, Manteo and Wanchese, whom they 
 had induced to accompany them. 
 
 Ealeigh and his sovereign were delighted with 
 the glowing accounts of this newly discovered 
 country, and, according to some authorities, Eliz- 
 abeth, as a memorial that the splendid dominion 
 had been added to the British realm during the 
 reign of a virgin queen, named the country Vir- 
 ginia. Other historians of equally good authority 
 say that the country was so christened on account 
 of its virgin beauty, purity, and fertility of the 
 first creation. The queen declared that such acqui- 
 sition was one of the most glorious events of her 
 3 
 
34 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 reign, and she bestowed the honors of knighthood 
 upon Sir Walter Raleigh. Parliament confirmed 
 his charter, and the queen, in order to enrich him, 
 gave him a monopoly of the sale of sweet wines. At 
 one bound Ealeigh leaped from obscurity into un- 
 bounded popularity, and by an almost unanimous 
 vote was elected to represent the county of Devon 
 in Parliament. 
 
 Ealeigh' s dream seemed about to become a real- 
 ity. On the 9th of April, 1585, he saw a fleet 
 sail out of Plymouth harbor, with one hundred 
 and eighty colonists and a full complement of sea- 
 men, for the coast of Virginia. Sir Eichard Gren- 
 ville, one of the most gallant men of his time, was 
 in command of the squadron, and Ralph Lane, a 
 soldier and civilian of distinction, who had been 
 an equerry in the royal court, was sent as governor 
 of the colony, with Amidas as his assistant. They 
 were accompanied by Thomas Cavendish, who next 
 year followed the path of Sir Francis Drake around 
 the world, by a competent artist and delineator of 
 men and things in America, and by Thomas Har- 
 riot, an eminent mathematician and astronomer, 
 who went as. historian and naturalist of the expe- 
 dition. 
 
 Grenville was more of a pirate than a peaceful 
 colonizer, and could not resist the temptation to 
 capture and plunder the Spanish ships in the West 
 
RALEIGH'S DREAM. 35 
 
 Indies. They did not reach the Virginian coast 
 until late in June, when they came near being 
 wrecked on a point of land which they named Cape 
 Fear. Sailing up the coast, they entered Ocracoke 
 Inlet and finally landed on Eoanoke Island with 
 Manteo, one of the Indians who had accompanied 
 Barlow and Amidas to England. 
 
 Unfortunately for Ealeigh's dream of building 
 up a powerful colony in Virginia, the colonists 
 thought more of gold and plunder, than of tilling 
 the soil and building cities. The English were 
 hospitably received everywhere by the natives, but 
 repaid their kindness with harshness and even bru- 
 tality. Because a silver cup was missing, Gren- 
 ville ordered a town to be burned and all the 
 standing corn destroyed. Having thus inflamed 
 the natives against the colonists, Grenville left them 
 at Eoanoke, and, after a short career of piracy 
 against Spanish commerce, returned to the harbor 
 of Plymouth with his vessel laden with plunder 
 from Spanish galleons. 
 
 Thus we find the colony of Lane at the time they 
 were relieved by Sir Francis Drake, who was re- 
 turning fresh from ■ the assault on St. Augustine 
 as described in the preceding chapter. 
 
 Two weeks later, Sir Ei chard Grenville ap- 
 peared off the coast, with three well-furnished ships, 
 and made a vain search for the departed colony. 
 
36 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Unwilling that the English should lose possession 
 of the country, he left fifteen men on the island of 
 Roanoke, to be guardians of their rights. 
 
 Ealeigh, undismayed by losses, now determined 
 to plant an agricultural state, to send emigrants 
 with wives and families, who should make their 
 homes in the New World; and, that life and prop- 
 erty might be more secure, he granted a charter of 
 incorporation for the settlement, and established a 
 municipal government for the city of Raleigh. John 
 White was appointed governor with eleven assis- 
 tants, to whom the administration of the colony 
 was intrusted, and on the 26th of April, 1587, 
 almost a year after Drake had carried away Ralph 
 Lane's colony, White sailed for Virginia.- In July, 
 they arrived on the coast of what is now North Caro- 
 lina. They escaped the dangers of Cape Fear, and, 
 passing Cape Hatteras, hastened to the isle of Ro- 
 anoke, to search for the fifteen men whom Grenville 
 had left there as a garrison for the place; but all 
 was ruin and desolation. The log houses were de- 
 serted and overgrown with weeds, and human bones 
 lay scattered over the fields where the wild deer 
 were reposing. 
 
 It was the intention of Raleigh to have the col- 
 ony form a settlement on the bay of the Chesapeake; 
 but Fernando, the naval commander, was eager to 
 pursue his traffic, perhaps piracy, with the West 
 
RALEIGH'S DREAM. 37 
 
 Indies, and determined on Roanoke, and there, on 
 the northern extremity of the island, on the 23d 
 of July, 1587, the foundation of the city of Raleigh 
 was laid. The vanities of life were not forgotten, 
 for on the 13th of August, "by the command of 
 Sir Walter Raleigh," Manteo, the faithful Indian 
 chief, after receiving Christian baptism, was inves- 
 ted with the rank of baron, as "Lord of Roanoke." 
 This was the first and only title of nobility ever 
 granted within the present bounds of the United 
 States. It is doubtful if the Lord of Roanoke 
 understood or cared a fig for his title. Five days 
 after this foolish ceremony, White's daughter, Mrs. 
 Eleanor Dare, the wife of one of the assistants, gave 
 birth to a female child, the first offspring of English 
 parents born on the soil of the United States. The 
 infant was named from the place of its birth Virginia 
 Dare. The colony now consisted of eighty-nine 
 men, seventeen women, and two children, whose 
 names are all carefully preserved in English annals, 
 although their fate to this day remains a mystery. 
 
 White left his colony for England where he found 
 the attention of everybody absorbed by the threat- 
 ened invasion from Spain. Raleigh, Grenville, 
 Frobisher, Lane, Hawkins, and Drake were all 
 patriotically engaged in preparing for the defence 
 of their country. Yet, by the aid of Raleigh, 
 whose patriotism did not diminish his generosity, 
 
38 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 White was supplied with two vessels and sent back 
 to the relief of Eoanoke. The temptation to 
 piracy caused them to turn aside to chase Spanish 
 prizes, until they fell in with a Spanish man-of- 
 war, and after a bloody battle were compelled to 
 return to England, to the chagrin of Raleigh. 
 The delay was fatal . The English kingdom and the 
 Protestant Reformation were in danger; nor could 
 the poor colonists of Roanoke be again remem- 
 bered, until after the discomfiture of the invinci- 
 ble Armada. 
 
 After the defeat of the Armada, Sir Walter 
 Raleigh found his impaired fortune insufficient for 
 another attempt at colonization of Virginia. He 
 therefore used the privilege of his patent to endow 
 a company of merchants and adventurers with large 
 concessions. Among those thus to obtain a pro- 
 prietary right in Virginia was Sir Richard Hakluyt. 
 The act connects the first efforts of England in 
 North Carolina with the final colonization of Vir- 
 ginia. The new instrument, dated March 7th, 1589, 
 was not an assignment of Raleigh's patent, but the 
 extension of a grant, already held under its sanc- 
 tion, by increasing the number of those to whom 
 the rights of that charter belonged. 
 
 More than a year elapsed before White could 
 procure sufficient vessels, men, and money to return 
 to Roanoke to inquire after his colony, as well as 
 
RALEIGH'S DREAM. 
 
 39 
 
 his daughter and grandchild, Virginia Dare. That 
 White felt guilty at the delay, there can be no 
 doubt, for had he gone to the relief of his colony 
 
 "I DID NOT WANT TO GO TO SEA." 
 
 at first, instead of chasing Spanish prizes, they 
 would have been saved. 
 
 It was on this voyage that the boy .Philip Ste- 
 
40 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 vens, at the tender age of nine, was shipped by his 
 cruel master Francis, as narrated at the close of the 
 last chapter. 
 
 "White, who was a man of a kind heart, on find- 
 ing the lad weeping, asked him the cause. 
 
 "I did not want to go to sea," he answered. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "I wanted to stay on shore, and go to my little 
 brother. Now, that I am going away, I will never 
 see him again." 
 
 "Where is your brother?" 
 
 "Alas, I do not know." 
 
 Finding the little fellow much more interesting 
 than most boys of his age, White asked him his 
 name. 
 
 "They call me Philip Stevens; but I was Philip 
 Bstevan before we were captured at St. Augustine," 
 he answered. 
 
 "A Spaniard," said White. He then prevailed 
 on the little fellow to tell his story. 
 
 " So you were captured by Sir Francis Drake. 
 Do you know if your parents were slain in the as- 
 sault?" 
 
 "They were not," the lad answered. "Both of 
 them were far from St. Augustine at the time of 
 the attack." 
 
 " Then they may still be living at St. Augus- 
 tine?" 
 
RALEIGH'S DREAM. 41 
 
 "They may." 
 
 " You need not weep, Philip. We are going to 
 the same coast on which St. Augustine is situated, 
 and you might meet with some one to take you to 
 your parents." ■ 
 
 Shaking his head, the little fellow answered: 
 
 "No; I could not go. " , 
 
 "Don't you want to see them?" 
 
 "I could not go back without brother. When 
 mother left him with me, she said, 'Care well for 
 your little brother and do not part from him.' I 
 cannot go back without him." 
 
 White was touched by the pathetic little story, 
 and during the remainder of the voyage gave the 
 boy much better usage than he had been accus- 
 tomed to receive from English masters. Despite 
 the lad's bondage, he grew cheerful and happy. 
 He was soon a great favorite with all on board. 
 In the four years since he was taken from St. Au- 
 gustine, he not only had learned to speak the Eng- 
 lish language, but had forgotten the Spanish, so 
 that had his parents met their little curly-haired 
 darling, they would have been compelled to con- 
 verse with him through an interpreter. 
 
 White exhibited no little anxiety for the colony 
 from which he had been absent so long, and when 
 the island was sighted he stood in the forecastle 
 straining his eyes to catch some sign of life; but 
 
42 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 all was silence and desolation. Landing, he hur- 
 ried to the settlement; but only ruins met his view. 
 The ruined houses, the fort overgrown with weeds, 
 and the utter loneliness of the place, seemed to 
 mock the grief of the father, and tearing his hair 
 in agony of despair, he fell on the earth and wept 
 like a child. * His daughter and little Virginia 
 Dare seemed to have been swept like a mist out of 
 existence. An inscription on a tree seemed to 
 point to Croatan; but the season of the year and 
 the danger of storms compelled them to return to 
 England, with no knowledge of the lost colony, the 
 fate of which is to this day a mystery. The colony 
 had vanished like smoke, and with it went Ka- 
 leigh's brightest dream. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 EMILY. 
 
 I knew, I knew it could not last, 
 
 'Twas bright, 'twas heavenly, but 'tis past. 
 
 Oh, ever thus from childhood's hour, 
 I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; 
 
 I never loved a tree or flower, 
 But 'twas the first to fade away. 
 
 — Mooee. 
 
 On the nineteenth day of October, 1597, an Eng- 
 lish vessel, which had been on a voyage to the 
 West Indies, entered Plymouth harbor and cast 
 anchor. On her deck stood a man whose features 
 denoted brutality. Though not master of the ship, 
 it was evident he had some interest in the vessel or 
 cargo. He kept his eye on a lad about sixteen 
 years of age, who shrunk from him as a proud- 
 spirited spaniel might from the lash of a cruel 
 master. 
 
 The man was Henry Francis, and the boy who 
 
 shrank from him Philip Stevens, who for nearly 
 
 ten years had been on the water, part of the time 
 
 directly under his master, and a part of the time 
 
 43 
 
44 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 under some one to whom he had been hired. 
 Eleven years had passed since his captivity, and 
 in all that time not a word had he heard from his 
 parents or brother. He had almost forgotten 
 them, and, accustomed only to tyranny and rebuffs, 
 expected nothing better. His beautiful curly locks 
 had long since been shorn from his head, for he 
 was no longer the petted one of doting parents; but 
 Philip was uncomplaining, and never once thought 
 of rebellion. 
 
 As Francis was going ashore in his boat he turned 
 to the lad, and, handing him a parcel, said: 
 
 " Bring that to my house to-morrow. Do you 
 comprehend?" 
 
 Philip bowed. 
 
 " See that you obey, or it will be worse for you." 
 
 Then Francis went ashore, and the lad turned to 
 lay the parcel in a safe place until he should have 
 time to carry it to his master. The ship had been 
 on a piratical cruise to the "West Indies, and the 
 boy little dreamed that the package entrusted to 
 him was the value of a king's ransom; but dis- 
 honesty begets dishonesty, and although Philip 
 knew not the value of the package, there was one 
 aboard the ship who did. A sailor named Hilliard, 
 who had noticed the cruel treatment of the lad, 
 knew the value of the package, and began to scheme 
 for his own profit as well as Philip's. As soon as 
 
EMILY. 45 
 
 an opportunity offered, he took Philip Stevens to 
 the after part of the ship, which was quite deserted, 
 and asked: 
 
 "When are you going ashore, Philip?" 
 
 "To-morrow." 
 
 "Then what will you do?" 
 
 "Whatever master says." 
 
 "Philip, do you know you have a very cruel 
 master?" 
 
 The boy hung his head and made no answer. 
 
 After waiting a few moments for him to say 
 something and finding he would not, Hilliard asked: 
 
 "Why don't you leave him?" 
 
 " How can I?" asked the lad. It was quite evi- 
 dent he had never before entertained a thought of 
 running away. Doomed from his earliest infancy 
 to disaster, disappointment, and woe, he forgot at 
 times that the sun ever shone, flowers bloomed, and 
 birds sang to make mankind happy. 
 
 "Bun away from him, Philip." 
 
 "He would surely kill me." 
 
 "Nay; he surely would not kill you. Go 
 where he will not find you." 
 
 "Could I?" 
 
 "Certainly you can." 
 
 " Where could I go where he could not find me?" 
 
 Hilliard, seeing that the plan he was cunningly 
 ' laying, promised success, entered into the scheme 
 
46 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 with all his heart. He told the lad how he had 
 from the first sympathized with him, and lain 
 awake at night forming plans for his deliverance, 
 
 " Philip, do you know you have a very cruel master? " 
 
 all with a purely unselfish motive, of course, and 
 finally had come to the conclusion that the boy 
 must run away from the ship, escape into the coun- ■ 
 
EMILY. 47 
 
 try, and live a life of peace. Then his listener 
 wanted to know what the country was, and how he 
 would reach it. He was informed that it was not 
 far away, and was covered with forests and grass- 
 covered valleys, and was but thinly populated. 
 Here he could find some small farmer, swineherd, 
 or shepherd, who no doubt would care for him and 
 give him a home. 
 
 "Were you ever in the country?" asked the 
 lad. 
 
 "Oh-, yes; many times." 
 
 "What is it like?" 
 
 The sailor proceeded to paint the country in such 
 glowing colors that the lad grew enthusiastic. He 
 had seen the forest from shipboard, and his young 
 imagination had peopled it with monsters. The 
 thought of sustaining himself in the country had 
 never once been entertained j but now, as the possi- 
 bility of escaping a cruel master, and becoming in- 
 dependent and free, grew 'on his mind, he felt his 
 heart give great throbs of joy. 
 
 "You can escape, Philip, if you will." 
 
 "I will do so," th6 lad answered. 
 
 "Then doit.".- " 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "To-morrow, you say, you go ashore." 
 
 "Teg." 
 
 " Then it is all very easy. I will row you ashore 
 
48 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 with the package, and instead of delivering it at 
 your master's house, you can escape." 
 
 "How will I find the country?" 
 
 "I will show you the way." 
 
 The lad reflected a few moments, no doubt feel- 
 ing a twinge of conscience, and ashed: 
 
 "Won't you get into trouble?" 
 
 With a hoarse chuckle, Hilliard answered. 
 
 " Marry! lad, don't mind my trouble, I can take 
 care of myself. I will make report that I rowed 
 you ashore, and I supposed you were going to 
 your master's." 
 
 Consequently next day at evening Hilliard 
 rowed Philip ashore. The lad took with him the 
 package he was to deliver to his master. As soon 
 as he landed, young Stevens, not entertaining a 
 dishonest thought, said: 
 
 "I will go and deliver the package and return." 
 
 "No, no, do nothing of the kind. You will be 
 seen, pursued, arrested, or shot. Give the pack- 
 age to me and I will dispose of it." 
 
 With the trusting innocence of a babe he gave 
 the package to Hilliard, who at once secured it 
 under his blouse, and said: "Come, now, and I 
 will show you to the country." 
 
 The surf had set and twilight was gently folding 
 the scene in her gray mantle. One by one the stars 
 opened tbeir bright little eyes, to watch the lad in 
 
EMILY. 49 
 
 his first struggle for liberty. Plymouth at that 
 day was quite different from the present — a small 
 seaport town, with quaint, old-fashioned houses, 
 their roofs looking like great baskets upside down. 
 The two fugitives kept on the outskirts of the town 
 to avoid being seen, and they were soon on a road 
 which led to the interior. Soon they were in a 
 forest with hills, deep ravines, and quaint trees. 
 He who had braved the storm at sea, whose ear 
 had early been tuned to the whistling balls, and 
 had learned not to shudder at danger, had an in- 
 stinctive dread of that dark wood. 
 
 "Nay, lad, never fear — never fear!" the wicked 
 sailor said. "Follow this road; you will soon 
 come upon some shepherds or farmers who will treat 
 you with kindness." 
 
 The lad believed him. He could not understand 
 why Hilliard should tell him a falsehood. Surely 
 he could have no motive for it, and consequently 
 he obeyed. Long he tramped down that dark 
 road which grew darker and narrower at every step, 
 until it seemed as if he could not go further. The 
 hills on either side grew higher, the forest more 
 forbidding. At last he came to where the road 
 divided. Here he paused. It was a new compli- 
 cation, one with which he knew not how to deal. 
 He had never travelled a road alone, and here were 
 two roads; which did Hilliard intend him to take? 
 4 
 
50 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 When he heard- a terrible grunt on his right, accom- 
 panied by the snapping of huge tusks, he deter- 
 mined to follow the road at the left, and set 
 out on a run down the dark thoroughfare. He 
 traveled for many hours, how long he knew not, 
 and though he had passed one or two miserable 
 huts thatched with straw, he had not the courage to 
 pause at any, they were so dark, silent, and forbid- 
 ing. He came at last upon a house which seemed 
 more inviting than the others, and he determined 
 to apply for food and shelter; but as he advanced 
 toward it a number of dogs suddenly ran at him 
 with such hideous barks that he ran away. Then 
 he wandered, until, faint and sick, he fell down 
 beneath a great chestnut tree and fell asleep, just 
 as the moon began to peep over the hills. 
 
 Let us take advantage of the hours that Philip 
 Stevens sleeps, to glance at the condition of the 
 people of England at the period of our story. 
 
 Down to the time of Henry VIII. , there had been 
 very little improvement in England since the Eo- 
 mans left the island. 
 
 There was not much of the soil cultivated, and 
 that little was done in an unskilful manner. Vast 
 forests and fens covered the land, breeding the per- 
 petual scourge of malaria. The population was 
 sparse and increased slowly, and when Henry VIII. 
 ascended the throne, it did not exceed five millions. 
 
EMILY. 
 
 51 
 
 The food of the common people was not equal in 
 nutrition and variety, nor their clothing in com- 
 fort, to that of the American Indians when Europe- 
 ans first came to America. The American savages 
 lived in better habitations 
 than did their British con- 
 temporaries, whose ranks 
 were constantly thinned 
 by pestilence and famine. 
 Liberty was as yet un- 
 known and the common 
 run of people were little 
 better than serfs, while 
 the ecclesiastics rioted in 
 coarse luxuries, and the morals 
 of the town were beastly in the 
 extreme. 
 
 At the beginning of the 
 seventeenth century, all this 
 had materially changed. The 
 methods of agriculture had been 
 greatly improved and its bounds 
 immensely enlarged. Implements were better, and 
 tillage was far more productive. At the time 
 Philip wandered into the country the farmers 
 generally had an abundance of good food and 
 lived in better houses ; pewter dishes had taken the 
 place of wooden ones ; feather beds had supplanted 
 
 The Runaway. 
 
52 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 those of straw and coarse wool, and the yeoman 
 was fond of entertaining his neighbor. Clover had 
 been introduced from the Netherlands and in- 
 creased the food for the cattle and sheep. Gardens 
 had begun to be cultivated. From the Netherlands 
 had come the hop-vine, also the cabbage, lettuce, 
 apricot, gooseberry, muskmelon, and apple. Cher- 
 ries had been transplanted from Prance, currants 
 from Greece, and plums from Italy, and from 
 Flanders the Flemings had brought the rose and 
 other fragrant plants, natives of the East. 
 
 Among the nobility and in the cities, rapidly in- 
 creasing wealth fostered a taste for luxury. Dwell- 
 ings, furniture, and dress felt its influence. Ele- 
 gant and substantial houses were built, furniture 
 was elaborately carved and inlaid; glass mirrors 
 had been introduced from France early in the reign 
 of Elizabeth, and carpets from Turkey, which 
 English weavers soon imitated, took the place on 
 floors of rushes and mats on which royalty had be- 
 fore trodden. Chairs were cushioned with velvet 
 coverings, and costly bedsteads were seen. In 
 many houses of the wealthier class, ornamental 
 French clocks had taken the place of the hour-glass 
 and sand, and knives were quite common on Eng- 
 lish tables, though forks were not used until after 
 Elizabeth's reign. 
 
 With the general advance in customs, industries, 
 
EMILY. 53 
 
 and manners, the classes in the rural districts were 
 especially advanced. They depended more on 
 herds and flocks and tilling the soil, than upon the 
 wild game in the forest, or that species of outlawry 
 called poaching. The country into which Philip 
 Stevens had strayed was occupied chiefly by shep- 
 herds. At that period and even at this day it is 
 noted for its excellent pasturage. 
 
 The boy was too tired after his long journey on 
 foot to feel the effects of that chill October night. 
 The sun was climbing the eastern hills when he 
 awoke with a start, shivering with the cold. It 
 was not the cold or the rising sun which caused 
 him to wake, but a sniffling sound, and the touch 
 of a cold nose to his cheek. Starting up in affright, 
 he saw a large, good-natured shepherd dog, gazing 
 into his face, with kindly eyes and wagging tail. 
 
 "Go away,! go away!" cried the affrighted lad. 
 
 At this moment the master, with his long crook 
 in his hand, came forward. 
 
 "Be not afraid, lad; he will not hurt you," he 
 said. 
 
 The shepherd gazed at the lad, who had risen to 
 his feet, and stood shivering beneath the tree. 
 
 "Who art thou?" asked the shepherd kindly. 
 " Thou art a stranger in the neighborhood, and thy 
 dress betokens a sailor." 
 
 "I am Philip Stevens," he answered. 
 
54 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "And whither art thou bound?" 
 
 "I do not know." 
 
 The good shepherd gazed at him in wonder and 
 amazement, repeating: 
 
 "Do not know! Surely, lad, thou art running 
 away from thy master?" 
 
 "So I am, and why should I not? My master 
 is very cruel and Hilliard advised me to run away 
 and go to the country." 
 
 The old man gazed at the boy for several mo- 
 ments, and then said: 
 
 "Nay, lad, nay; thou shouldst not fly from thy 
 master. No good ever comes of runaways. I 
 knew one, a precious knave he was. His name 
 was John Smith, and he ran away, went to France 
 to the wars, then to Turkey, and the rogue hath 
 got his skull cracked ere this for aught I know." 
 
 "Who is John Smith?" asked Philip. "Was his 
 master cruel?" 
 
 "Nay, they say his master was kind; but John 
 grew restless and ran away. He was a good-for- 
 naught knave. I advise thee to get thee back to thy 
 master with good speed and pray his forgiveness 
 that thou didst run away." 
 
 Philip had never been accustomed to argument, 
 and was unable to hold his own with the shepherd. 
 Obedience and silence had been the rule with him, 
 and he hardly dared assert an opposite opinion. 
 
EMILY. 55 
 
 He hung his head at the rebuke of the old shepherd, 
 and when he repeated, "Get thee back to thy 
 master," he was silent. 
 
 At this moment the barking of the dog and 
 the bleating of a sheep in the distance announced 
 danger to one of the flock, and the old shepherd 
 hastened away, leaving the wretched lad trembling 
 with cold, and on the point of turning back toward 
 Plymouth. When he finally made up his mind to 
 go back to his master and to slavery, be had for- 
 gotten the way. He took the wrong road and 
 wandered still farther into the hills. The sun 
 warmed the earth, drove- away the frost, and re- 
 lieved his shivering form from the cold; but he 
 suffered from hunger. He slaked his thirst at a 
 brook and ventured to pluck some frosted fruit' 
 which still remained in a deserted orchard. 
 
 It was the middle of the afternoon before he saw 
 another human being. This second person was 
 quite different from the first. The lad had wan- 
 dered from road to road, each succeeding path 
 growing dimmer, until he was hopelessly lost in 
 the wood, when, as he was going up a slight ascent, 
 he come upon a young girl who looked at him with 
 a pair of big blue eyes. She was not over ten or 
 eleven years old. 
 
 Philip stopped short and gave her a startled look. 
 The suddenness of the apparition had surprised 
 
56 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 him, and he hardly knew whether to advance or 
 retreat. He knew nothing of girls. His young 
 life had been spent among coarse, brutal sailors, 
 and, save the faint recollection he retained of a 
 gentle mother in that far-off sunny home, he knew 
 nothing of the opposite sex. He half expected the 
 girl to upbraid him as the man had done; but she 
 did not. She neither advanced nor ran away, but 
 after gazing at him for several moments in silent 
 wonder, asked: 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 "Philip Stevens," he answered. 
 
 "Where are you going?" she asked. 
 
 "I don't know," Philip answered. "I was run- 
 ning away from my master, because he was cruel 
 to me and beat me; but a man I met told mc to go 
 back?" 
 
 "Go back, when he was cruel to you? Why 
 go back?" 
 
 "I cannot live here," said Philip. "The earth 
 is too cold to sleep upon, and there is not sufficient 
 food for me in the forest. " 
 
 The child, deeply interested in the pathetic story 
 of the lad, came from behind the stone and advanced 
 toward him. 
 
 "Are you hungry?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes, I have had no food to-day, save some 
 half -spoiled fruit which I plucked from the trees." 
 
EMILY. 
 
 57 
 
 The tender-hearted girl assured him that at her 
 home they had an abundance of food. Where was 
 her home ? It was not far, just across some hills and 
 
 "Who abb you?" 
 a valley, in which were the flocks which she had 
 been watching. 
 
 "What is your name?" he asked. 
 
58 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "Emily Gilbert," was the answer. She then 
 told him that her father had been a great sailor, 
 but had been drowned at sea, and, being poor, 
 her mother had gone into the country where she 
 had some flocks, and a small house. Emily was 
 the only child, and on pretty days watched the 
 flocks with her dog while they, grazed. She was 
 thus engaged, when she discovered the sailor 
 boy. 
 
 Having heard the story of the cruelty of his 
 master, she advised him never to return, and assured 
 him that he could find a home with herself and 
 mother. This was so like the assurance he had 
 received from Hilliard, that he concluded the sailor 
 was, after all, right. The little girl left the dog 
 to watch the flock, while they went to the house to 
 get some food. The widow Gilbert was a kind 
 English dame of the age, and her heart went out to 
 the young wanderer, to whose story she listened with 
 tears in her eyes. Mrs. Gilbert was one of that 
 branch of Protestants from which the Puritans 
 sprang, and, consequently, was very religious. 
 When she came to question the young sailor on 
 his religious views, she was greatly shocked to 
 learn that he had none. He scarce knew the 
 meaning of the word, as he had only heard the 
 name of God used in blasphemy. Some of his 
 masters had been men who prayed ; but the boy 
 
EMILY. 59 
 
 was excluded from the worship and knew not that 
 he possessed an immortal soul. 
 
 From that day Philip became domesticated at 
 the home of the widow Gilbert, and repaid her 
 kindness by earnest toil. He minded the flocks, 
 tilled her small field, and became prosperous and 
 happy. The widow Gilbert was a remarkable 
 character in that age, for she possessed considerable 
 learning. The English, prior to the time of Shakes- 
 peare and Spenser, were grossly ignorant, and even 
 in the Elizabethian period education among women 
 was almost unknown. Mrs. Gilbert was a rare 
 exception, especially among country-women, for 
 she could read, write, and knew something of geog- 
 raphy and the crude sciences of the time. 
 
 She freely imparted her knowledge to Philip and 
 her daughter; and young Stevens owed his edu- 
 cation to the two years he remained at her home, 
 which he regarded as the brightest period of his 
 existence. 
 
 Emily was his constant companion. The two 
 grew up together and seemed inseparable. lie in- 
 sisted on performing the most arduous tasks, and 
 could not have been a kinder son or brother had 
 he been Mrs. Gilbert's own child. During the 
 long winter evenings he would beguile them with 
 strange stories of far-off lands which he had visited, 
 or thrill them with tales of wild sea-fights, so awful 
 
60 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 that little Emily, all trembling with dread, put her 
 arms about his neck, and begged him to desist. 
 
 "You will never, never, go to sea again, will 
 you?" she asked. 
 
 "No; not if I can help it," he answered. "I 
 want always to live with you and your mother, to 
 labor for you, because you were so kind and gave 
 me food and shelter when I was lost and starving; 
 but they may yet come and take me away. Fran- 
 cis would drag me back on shipboard if he knew 
 I was here." 
 
 "They shall not do it!" cried Emily, her great 
 blue eyes growing moist with tears. He smiled 
 kindly on his foster sister, and, knowing how feeble 
 a defender she would prove, should he be dis- 
 covered by Francis, he changed the subject. 
 
 For two years and a half he lived at the home 
 of Mrs. Gilbert, who came to love him almost as a 
 son. One day, while seeking a sheep that had 
 strayed from the flock, he came upon a party of 
 huntsmen, and to his utter amazement and conster- 
 nation Henry Francis was among them. For a 
 moment Philip was paralyzed with dread. 
 
 Then he wheeled about, to fly, but too late. 
 Francis had aready discovered him and cried: 
 
 "There is my runaway! Seize him!" 
 
 Two stout hunters caught him and bound him, 
 
EMILY, 61 
 
 and he was returned to Plymouth without an oppor- 
 tunity of seeing his good friends at. the cottage. 
 
 He was hurried on board a ship and started on 
 a voyage to some far-off land. But for the fact 
 that the jewels had been discovered in Hilliard's 
 possession, who paid the penalty of the theft with 
 his life, Philip might have been hanged. Alone 
 in his berth, the unfortunate youth reflected on his 
 past' life, and, almost in despair, asked himself 
 what the future would be. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 JAMESTOWN. 
 
 Go, and in regions far 
 Such heroes bring ye forth 
 
 As those from whom we came ; 
 
 And plant our name 
 Under that star, 
 Not known unto our north. 
 
 —Drayton. 
 
 After the abortive efforts of Raleigh to plant a 
 colony in Virginia, for fifteen years the English 
 made no further attempt to seize and colonize North 
 America. Already the fishing at Newfoundland 
 was becoming the stay of the western countries, 
 and some trade was carried on with the natives of 
 Virginia, for English barks coasted along the At- 
 lantic seaboard as far south as the present State of 
 Florida. In 1602, Bartholomew Grosnold, an ex- 
 plorer, sailed to the coast of Maine at Cape Eliza- 
 beth, and sailing southward discovered Cape Cod, 
 where four men landed, being the first Englishmen 
 to tread the soil of New England. Doubling the 
 cape and passing Nantucket, they touched at No 
 
 63 
 
JAMESTOWN. 63 
 
 Man's Land, passed around the promontory of Gay's 
 Head, naming it Dover's Cliff,and entered Buzzard's 
 Bay, a stately sound, 'which they called Gosnold's 
 Hope. The only fruits of Gosnold's voyage was 
 a cargo of sassafras roots, then esteemed in phar- 
 macy as a panacea for every ill. Perhaps it would 
 not be essential to mention this voyage in our story, 
 but for the fact that Philip Stevens, now almost 
 twenty-one years of age, was aboard Gosnold's 
 vessel. Stevens was a handsome young sailor, 
 brave as a lion, honest and industrious. He had 
 not yet served out his time with Francis, but had 
 only a year or two more to be the servant of that 
 monster. He returned to England with Gosnold, 
 to sail, April 10th, 1603, with Martin Pring on 
 board the Speedwell, reaching the American coast 
 at Penobscot Bay. Coasting toward the west, they 
 made a discovery of many of the harbors of Maine, 
 including the Saco„ the Kennebunk, and the York 
 rivers. The channel of Piscataqua was examined 
 for three or four leagues. In their search for sassa- 
 fras roots they doubled Cape Ann and went on 
 shore in Massachusetts; but, being unsuccessful, 
 . Pring again turned his prow southward and anchored 
 in Old Town Harbor, at Martha's Vineyard. Here 
 he obtained a freight, and returned to England. 
 
 For two years and a half longer Philip Stevens 
 continued to serve various masters, while Henry 
 
64 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Francis drew his pay. One day he was informed 
 by Martin Pring that the term of his service had 
 expired, and he was his own master. Pring was 
 very much attached to the young sailor, who had 
 once saved his life, at the risk of his own, and on 
 a score of trying occasions had proved his courage. 
 Philip had a fair education, thanks to Mrs. Gilbert, 
 and soon would be capable of becoming the master 
 of a ship ; but he had no aspirations for the sea, 
 and determined to hunt up his young brother, from 
 whom he had been for eighteen years separated, 
 and then set out for Florida to seek their parents. 
 Every trace of his brother was lost, and after weeks 
 of search and inquiry he was forced to give up in 
 despair. Next he determined to seek Mrs. Gilbert 
 and Emily, thank them for their kindness to him, 
 and explain his sudden disappearance from the 
 neighborhood. To find Mrs. Gilbert's home in those 
 days, when there were no postrpads or newspapers, 
 was no easy task, but persistent search was rewarded 
 with success. He found the good widow and her 
 daughter still living in the cozy cottage. Although 
 Mrs. Gilbert had grown a little grayer, she was still 
 hale and kind-hearted as ever; but in Emily the. 
 change was most marked. She had blossomed into 
 glorious womanhood, and what a beautiful woman 
 she was! Her eyes of heaven's own blue, hair of 
 gold, teeth of pearl, brow of alabaster, and cheeks 
 
JAMESTOWN. 65 
 
 like rosebuds made her seem the materialized 
 ideal of an artist. He, who had only expected a 
 child to greet him, was amazed to find a beautiful 
 young woman. 
 
 The change in Philip was equally great. They 
 did not at first recognize in the handsome young 
 sailor the lad who had so suddenly and mysteriously 
 disappeared years before. He was greeted as one 
 returned from the dead. He told his story, and 
 Emily and her mother listened with bated breath 
 and eyes sparkling with interest to the narration of 
 his wild, strange life, strange and wild even for that 
 romantic age. 
 
 He could not understand the change in Emily. 
 She no longer fondled him as of old, but was so 
 shy and timid that he was grieved at her conduct, 
 until Mrs. Gilbert said: 
 
 "You are no longer children now." 
 
 Before coming to Mrs. Gilbert's, he had deter- 
 mined to make his home with the widow and her 
 daughter; but now everything was so changed that 
 he was again doomed to disappointment. Their 
 kindness was as great as of yore ; but that restraint, 
 that unwonted reserve and formality, were oppres- 
 sive. To go away was like lacerating his heart, for 
 he found Emily growing more dear to him in pro- 
 portion to her- reserve. He was in love, but it 
 was some time before the truth dawned upon him. 
 5 
 
66 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Then he asked himself why he could not marry 
 Emily and live on in this quiet little cottage. On 
 second thought he decided that he could not do 
 that. He was too proud to accept the bounty of 
 any one. If he married Emily he must prepare a 
 home for her. How was he to acquire it? Homes 
 in those days were cheap compared with the pres- 
 ent; but he had "nothing save his strong arms and 
 brave heart to procure one. He had no trade 
 save that of a sailor, and, distasteful as the sea was, 
 he realized that he must return to it. Philip had 
 not the courage to mention his love to Emily; but 
 one day he told her of his intention to embark on 
 a sea-going vessel. 
 
 "Will you go away again?" asked Emily, while 
 a look of sadness came over her face. " Why do 
 you not remain here?" 
 
 "I cannot consent to share your bounty. I am 
 now a man and must earn my bread ; but when I 
 have accumulated enough to purchase a cottage 
 like yours, I will return." 
 
 Her eyes drooped beneath his earnest gaze, and she 
 remarked that her mother might need his services; 
 but Philip told her that it was his determination 
 to depart soon for Plymouth or London, and ship 
 on the first vessel in which he could secure a posi- 
 tion. By saving his wages for two or three years, 
 he would have enough to gratify his ambition. 
 
JAMESTOWN. 67 
 
 At the close of a beautiful day he and Emily, 
 standing in the doorway of the vineclad cottage, 
 saw a stranger coming slowly up the hill toward the 
 house. He evidently had journeyed far, for his 
 rugged frame bore evidence of fatigue. He was 
 clad in a doublet of green velvet, with a belt about 
 his waist which supported a sword, and on his 
 head a cap with a single feather in it. His trunks, 
 coming half-way to the knee, and his buskined legs 
 were stained with dust and travel. There was a 
 soldier-like bearing about the stranger, which in- 
 dicated the cavalier rather than the peasant. 
 
 "A good, day to you, young friends," he said, 
 bowing politely to Philip and Emily. "lama 
 , belated traveller with such a misfortune as a lame 
 horse, which I was compelled to abandon half a 
 league back on the road, and I am come to seek 
 shelter for the night under your roof." 
 
 "Perchance you will be welcome," Emily an- 
 swered. "Mother seldom turns off a wayfarer." 
 
 " Heaven bless your mother, and you too, pretty 
 maid ! Were I as young as he at your side, with no 
 legal obstacles — marry! you may guess the rest." 
 
 There was a jolly smile on the bold face. When 
 asked to enter the house he did so, and, sinking 
 on a bench, wiped the perspiration from his face. 
 
 "Who are you?" the widow asked, "I must 
 know whom 1 entertain." 
 
68 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "lam John Smith," was the answer. "Once 
 Captain John Smith, in the army of Prince Moyses. " 
 
 The fame of Captain John Smith had spread all 
 over England, and the widow, her daughter, and 
 Philip gazed at the gallant fellow as if he were 
 more than mortal. After having told the widow 
 of the mishap which caused him to claim, her hos- 
 pitality, Captain Smith turned to Philip and asked: 
 
 "Whither are you bound, my young sailor, for I 
 smell the freshness of the sea about you?" 
 
 "I don't know," Philip answered, "I am going 
 on a voyage." 
 
 "On what ship, and to what port?" 
 
 "I know not. I have chosen no ship as yet." 
 
 "Marry! then come and sail with me, for we, 
 will be a merry crew, I'll warrant, and we go to 
 achieve wonders and lay the foundation for a fu- 
 ture empire." 
 
 "Whither are you bound, Captain Smith?" 
 
 "To South Virginia. Why! have you not 
 heard the good news? The London and Plymouth 
 companies are formed to colonize the Virginias!" 
 
 Philip, while in Plymouth, had heard of a Lon- 
 don and a Plymouth company, but knew not what 
 they meant. 
 
 " The object is to plant colonies, to build up homes 
 in those goodly countries," Captain John Smith 
 explained. " Now you are the kind of metal to go 
 
'I AM CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
JAMESTOWN. 69 
 
 to this new world and carve out for yourself a name 
 and fame, to build you a home, and in due time 
 to bring your blushing bride from merry old Eng- 
 land, to enjoy it with you," Captain John Smith 
 concluded, with a wink at the blushing Emily. 
 
 He told such bright stories of the New World, 
 and painted it in such glowing colors that Philip 
 felt a thrill of' hope in his heart. That evening 
 when alone with Emily he seized her trembling 
 hand in his, and said: 
 
 " I will go, Emily, yes, I will go and build us a 
 home in that New "World where we can be happy. 
 Let's hope and pray." 
 
 She made no answer. Her eyes sought the floor, 
 and on the long, trembling lashes there sparkled a 
 pearly drop. This was the nearest approach to a 
 declaration of love he had ever made; but she 
 read his thoughts and returned his love. That 
 night Captain Smith entertained his hostess and her 
 family with stories of his wild adventures with the 
 Turks. His fight with the proud Saracen com- 
 mander, Turbishaw, whom he* slew in front of his 
 own people, and his subsequent single combats 
 with two of his companions, were narrated, and the 
 romantic Philip dreamed all night of the wonder- 
 ful man with whom his future was to be linked. 
 "When Captain Smith set out next day for Lon- 
 don, Philip Stevens accompanied him. 
 
70 
 
 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 England at last had become aroused to the im- 
 portance of planting a colony in America. Sir 
 Walter Ealeigh, who had expended a vast fortune 
 in the effort and failed, was now out of suit with 
 'fortune. Queen Elizabeth was dead, and he was 
 not the friend of her successor. At this period he 
 was in prison; but there were those in England 
 
 who were not backward 
 in taking up the matter 
 where Raleigh had left 
 off, and pushing it for- 
 ward to' a triumphant 
 conclusion. The grave 
 and ingenious Gosnold, 
 who had himself wit- 
 nessed the fertility of 
 the western soil, long 
 solicited the concurrence 
 of his friends for the es- 
 tablishment of a colony, and at last had enlisted in 
 his efforts Edward Marie Wingfield, a merchant of 
 the west of England, Robert Hunt, a clergyman of 
 fortitude and modest worth, and Captain John 
 Smith, who had but just returned from his wild 
 adventures in the East. At this time Sir Ferdi- 
 nando Gorges was gathering information of the 
 American Indians whom he had received at Way- 
 mouth. Their description of the country, com- 
 
 Quekn Elizabeth. 
 
JAMESTOWN. 71 
 
 bined with the views of Gosnold and others, filled 
 him with a desire to become a proprietary in the 
 domains beyond the Atlantic. Gorges, being a man 
 of great influence, induced Sir John Popham, lord 
 chief justice of England, to share his intentions. 
 Nor had the assigns of Ealeigh become indifferent 
 to western planting. "Industrious Hakluyt," the 
 historian of maritime enterprise, still promoted the 
 plan by his personal exertions, his weight of char- 
 acter, and invincible zeal. The king, too timid 
 to be active, yet too vain to be indifferent, favored 
 the design of enlarging his dominions. 
 
 He had attempted in Scotland the introduction 
 of arts among the Highlanders and the Western 
 Isles, by the establishment of colonies; and the 
 Scottish plantations which he founded in the north- 
 ern countries of Ireland contributed to the affluence 
 and security of the island. Therefore, when a 
 company of men of business and rank, to which 
 was added the experience of Gosnold, the enthusi- 
 asm of Smith, the perseverance of Hakluyt, and 
 the influence of Popham and Gorges, applied, April 
 10th, 1606, to King James I. , " for leave to deduce 
 a colony into Virginia," the monarch readily set 
 his seal to -an ample patent. 
 
 It may not be out of place to make brief mention 
 of the first colonial charter by which the English 
 were to plant the first permanent settlement in 
 
72 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 America. A belt of twelve degrees on the Amer- 
 ican coast, embracing the soil from Cape Fear to 
 Halifax, was set apart to be colonized by the two 
 rival companies (London and Plymouth companies). 
 The London company was composed of noblemen, 
 gentlemen, and merchants about London, and the 
 Plymouth company was made up of knights, mer- 
 chants, and gentlemen in the West. The London 
 adventurers had an exclusive right to occupy the 
 region from thirty-four to thirty-eight north lati- 
 tude, that is, from Cape Fear to the southern limit 
 of Maryland. The Plymouth company had an 
 equally exclusive right to plant between forty -one 
 and forty-five degrees; while the intermediate 
 district between thirty-eight and forty-one degrees 
 was open to the competition of both companies. 
 In order to prevent future collisions, each was to 
 possess the soil extending fifty miles north and 
 south. The conditions of tenure were homage and 
 rent, one-fifth the net produce of gold and silver, and 
 one-fifteenth of copper. The right to coin money 
 was conceded. The general supervision was confined 
 to a council in England ; the local administration of 
 each colony to a resident council. The members of 
 the superior council in England were appointed ex- 
 clusively by the king, and the tenure of their office 
 was his good pleasure. Of the colonial councils, 
 the members were from time to time to be ordained, 
 
JAMESTOWN. 73 
 
 made and removed according to the king's instruc- 
 tions. 'All legislation was reserved to the monarch. 
 For twenty-one years a duty was to be levied on 
 vessels trading in its harbors, and this duty was to 
 be employed for the benefit of the plantation. At 
 the end of that time the duty went to the king, 
 To the emigrants ft was promised that they and 
 their children shouid continue to be Englishmen. 
 Lands were to be held by the most favorable 
 tenure. 
 
 Thus we see that the first written charter by 
 which the English people were to plant a colony in 
 the land of liberty gave to the London company a 
 tract of wilderness and nothing more. All the 
 rights, even of legislation and official patronage, 
 remained with the monarch, to whom also was to, 
 revert a perpetual income from the duties and rents, 
 and to the colonists was granted the bare right to 
 be called Englishmen; but ideas of sovereignty 
 were then supreme, and liberty and democracy but 
 a dream. 
 
 These arrangements had all been completed be- 
 fore the arrival of Captain John Smith and his 
 young friend, Philip Stevens. Everybody was 
 enthusiastic, and there was no lack of colonists. 
 Philip Stevens, the strong young mariner, was. 
 readily enrolled in the ljst of adventurers to build . 
 up a nation in the New World, 
 
74 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 There lingered in the London Tower a prisoner, 
 that bright genius whose dream the colonization 
 in Virginia had been. He was not to realize its 
 fulfilment as a result of his own exertions; but 
 he rejoiced that the good- seed sown in the time of 
 Queen Elizabeth was to bring forth fruit in the 
 reign of her successor, James I. Sir Walter Ea- 
 leigh, under a false charge, had been arrested in his 
 old age and thrown into prison. Philip Stevens 
 had often heard of the great man, and, like most 
 persons, wished to see one who had been so prom- 
 inent and active in younger life. When Eichard 
 Hakluyt, Bartholomew Gosnold, and Sir Ferdi- 
 nando Gorges, obtained permission to visit the il- 
 lustrious prisoner in the Tower and tell him what 
 had been accomplished, he accompanied them. 
 
 They found Ealeigh, now a gray -haired old man, 
 seated at a little table near an open window in the 
 massive wall, writing. Around him lay huge folios. 
 On the walls hung many maps, and on the deep 
 window-sill was a mariner's compass. Near him 
 sat his young wife, his junior by twenty years, 
 who had come to share his imprisonment. At 
 her feet lay a sleeping spaniel belonging to the 
 keeper of the Tower, and a picture of their son, 
 who was killed in Guiana, leaned against a small 
 cabinet at her side. When the visitors entered, 
 Ealeigh arose and embraced them affectionately. 
 
JAMESTOWN. 75 
 
 After the first emotion at meeting with old friends 
 had been allowed to subside, Gosnold said : 
 
 " Our friend, we have brought glorious news to 
 you. The bread cast upon the waters has returned 
 after many days." 
 
 He then told Ealeigh of the great enterprise and 
 the king's sanction, and the prisoner, overcome, 
 sank back in his chair, and, with clasped hands and 
 eyes turned heavenward, exclaimed : 
 
 " God be praised for his goodness! Prison walls 
 cannot defeat his justice. The English nation 
 loves truth, and will defend the good name of her 
 disciples. God save the king!" 
 
 The last invocation was evidently intended for 
 the jailor's ears, as that functionary was at the 
 door, ready to turn against Ealeigh any word he 
 might utter derogatory to the cruel monarch. 
 
 Philip Stevens was very much impressed with 
 the patriotism and resignation of the prisoner, and 
 when in after years he learned that Sir Walter 
 Raleigh had perished at the executioner's block 
 to appease the wrath of a jealous king, he ex- 
 claimed: 
 
 " Monarchs may yet learn the cost of valuable 
 lives." 
 
 Every preparation for the sailing of the colony 
 was finally made, and on the 19th day of Decem- 
 ber, 1606, one hundred and nine years after the 
 
76 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 discovery of the American continent by Cabot, 
 and forty-one years after the settlement of 
 Florida, the squadron of three vessels, the largest 
 not exceeding one hundred tons burden, with the 
 favor of all England, stretched their sails for the 
 "dear strand of Virginia, earth's only paradise." 
 
 The names of the governor and the council 
 were sealed up in a chest before they took their 
 departure, with strict orders not to open the same 
 until they should have landed in Virginia. The 
 company consisted of one hundred and five men, 
 of whom forty-eight were what were in that day 
 called gentlemen, and but one regular sailor, 
 Philip Stevens. 
 
 Philip and Captain John Smith were warm per- 
 sonal friends, and frequently, when an idle moment 
 could be spared to the young sailor, he and the 
 future hero of the colony would retire to some 
 part of the ship to. discussthe future. Philip loved 
 to talk of Emily, and Smith was the only man on 
 board who had seen her. Often he asked Smith 
 how long it would be before he could bring his 
 bride to the new home. Jealous eyes were watch- 
 ing them whispering in secret, and their conferences 
 were construed into political conspiracies. The 
 men begun to mistrust them. 
 
 For six long weeks the emigrants did not lose 
 sight of the English shore,being detained by storms 
 
JAMESTOWN. 77 
 
 and opposing winds. The men, unaccustomed to 
 inactivity, got into disputes and wrangles, and it 
 took all the pursuasive powers of Mr. Hunt, the 
 clergyman, to preserve the peace. The names of the 
 real officers of the expedition could not be known 
 until they reached Virginia, and there was no one 
 to command the turbulent spirits. 
 
 "We cannot much longer tolerate this insubordi- 
 nation," Captain John Smith one day declared to 
 young Stevens, and on that day he seized two of 
 the brawling malcontents and hurled them into 
 the hold of the ship. Such violent means for pre- 
 serving the peace of course drew upon himself the 
 ill-will and vengeance of the mischief-makers. 
 
 "Look to yourselves," one of the disturbing 
 spirits said to his companions. " The fellow Smith 
 and sailor Stevens are cunning knaves. I have 
 heard them plotting to control the ship and colony. " 
 
 It was useless for Captain Smith and Stevens 
 to explain that their secret conferences were not of 
 a treasonable character, but merely related to pri- 
 vate matters. Gradually suspicion spread among the 
 leaders of the expedition, and Smith and Stevens 
 found themselves the objects of almost universal 
 jealousy and hatred. 
 
 When they reached the Canary Isla,nds, near the 
 western coast of Africa, the bad feeling broke forth 
 into acts of open hostility. One day when the two 
 
78 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 friends came upon deck they found themselves 
 suddenly surrounded and made prisoners. 
 
 " What means this unseemly outrage?" demanded 
 Smith, knocking down one of his assailants. 
 
 Both were overpowered, and Smith was loaded 
 down with chains. Again he demanded to know 
 the cause of the indignity, and was answered by 
 Captain Newport: 
 
 " You are charged with treason to the king; and 
 we believe it is your intention to murder the lead- 
 ers and usurp the entire government. Yourself 
 and the young sailor have frequently been known 
 to confer together in secret." 
 
 Philip at this point interposed, declaring that it 
 was only personal matters of interest to themselves 
 they discussed; but Smith, knowing the folly of 
 argument, quietly submitted, assuring Philip that all 
 would turn out right in the end. He lost nothing 
 of his even temper, but bided his time. 
 
 Stevens' services being invaluable, he was re- 
 leased, but was kept under strict surveillance during 
 the entire voyage; while Smith for thirteen weeks 
 was in chains. 
 
 The colonists proceeded to the West India Islands, 
 where they stopped to take in water and trade with 
 the natives. Leaving the West Indies they steered 
 in the direction of the island of Eqanoke. Gosnold, 
 who was one of the company, had been there before. 
 
JAMESTOWN. 79 
 
 Having lost their reckoning, and believing they 
 ought to be near Roanoke, they became discouraged, 
 and were eager to return to England. Stevens 
 opposed the return and insisted on landing on the 
 Florida coast. It was known that he was a Span- 
 iard by birth, and he was accused of trying to turn 
 them over to the Spanish authorities at St. Augus- 
 tine. He was arrested and put in chains; but a 
 storm arose and he was released. For a part of 
 a day and during one entire night they were driven 
 along before the fury of the tempest, whithersoever 
 it chanced to carry them. 
 
 Next morning, however, "they drifted into the 
 quiet waters of Chesapeake Bay, greatly to their joy 
 and the dissipation of their iears. Chesapeake is an 
 Indian word, signifying the "Mother of "Waters." 
 On their left as they entered the bay was a point of 
 land they called Cape Henry, and to the right an- 
 other which was named Cape Charles. Then as 
 they entered James Eiver, which at that time was 
 called Powhatan Eiver, in honor of the Indian 
 sovereign of the country, they dropped their anchors 
 within a quiet little harbor, that was protected from 
 the swell of the outer bay by a jutting point of 
 land. This point of land they named Point Com- 
 fort, for .after their long tedious voyage it was a 
 place of comfort to them. 
 
 They had now penetrated farther than ever 
 
80 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 European had been, and Stevens, Gosnold, and a 
 few others, heavily armed with swords and match- 
 locks, landed and went a short distance inland to 
 explore the new-found world. 
 
 Never has mortal eye gazed on scenery more 
 beautiful or picturesque. The grand old trees, 
 that had been growing unhewn for a long line of 
 generations; the silent and mysterious solitudes, 
 within whose profound depths no paths were ready 
 to conduct their eyes or their feet; the luxuriant 
 foliage, clothing the stately inonarchs in a garb of 
 matchless splendor, and fringing the river banks 
 with emerald ; the far-reaching expanse of hill and 
 valley, all darkened with the. growth of innumerable 
 trees, shrubs, and vines — all these things wrought si- 
 lently and secretly upon the bewildered minds of the 
 Englishmen, and they could not help feeling that 
 they had found the true Eden-spot of the world at 
 last. Having partially satisfied their curiosity as 
 to the immediate forest, they returned to the vessel, 
 and that night the precious box was broken open, 
 in the presence of the members of the company. 
 The council, who were empowered to chopse a presi- 
 dent, were Wingfield, Gosnold, John Smith, Cap- 
 tain Newport, EadclifEe, Martin, and Kendall. 
 
 " Won't you now release Captain Smith?" Philip 
 asked, when the names were read. "He is one of 
 
JAMESTOWN. 81 
 
 the councillors chosen by the king, and has a right 
 to a voice in your deliberations." 
 
 An awkward silence of a few moments was 
 broken by Captain Newport, who said : 
 
 " Smith is too dangerous a disturber to have his 
 liberty. He must be brought to trial." 
 
 For nearly three weeks the colonists were em- 
 ployed in looking about them for a proper place of 
 settlement. In their wanderings they discovered 
 beds of oysters on the coast and strawberries on the 
 hillsides, and one day Philip Stevens and Gosnold 
 fell in with some natives of the region. The Indians 
 treated them kindly, showing them their cornfields 
 that were just becoming green with the bursting 
 blades, and, as they stood in friendly groups be- 
 neath the vast shade trees, offered them their pipes 
 to smoke. Next day they went to the Indian vil- 
 lage, where, they were treated with continued kind- 
 ness. 
 
 In his first letter written to Emily, Philip Stevens 
 described an Indian chief in the following words: 
 
 " His body was painted all with crimson ; he wore 
 a chain of beads about his neck; his face was 
 painted blue; he was sprinkled with silver ore, as 
 we thought; his ears were hung with bracelets of 
 pearls, and in either ear was a bird's claw beset 
 with fine copper or gold. He entertained us in 
 6 
 
82 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 as modest a fashion as though he had been a prince 
 of civil government. " 
 
 The vessel sailed about forty miles up the stream, 
 which in honor of their king they had named 
 James Eiver, and anchored. On the north side of 
 the river was a peninsula, and here they resolved 
 to settle, believing that in the course of time a great 
 city would grow from this modest beginning; but 
 cities seek their own location, impelled by demand 
 of commerce rather than designs of founders. 
 Their settlement was also named, in honor of their 
 sovereign, Jamestown. 
 
 On the thirteenth of May, 1607, Philip Stevens 
 and'half a hundred men armed with axes went ashore 
 and began to clear away the trees for the new city ; 
 and that day marks a new era in the history of 
 civilization. The first stroke of the axe, given by 
 the sailor Stevens, was the beginning of the foun- 
 dation of our glorious American Eepublic. While 
 the ringing blows of axes and the crash of falling 
 timber filled the natives with awe, the council met 
 on the spot and elected Wingfield president. He 
 immediately took the oath and entered upon his 
 official duties. 
 
 Work on the settlement was now begun in ear- 
 nest. Smith was removed from the vessel in the 
 river, though not released from the charges. He 
 made no complaint, but went to work with the 
 
JAMESTOWN. 88 
 
 others, and cheerfully and earnestly turned his 
 hand wherever required. He helped to cut down 
 huge trees to be split into boards, and assisted in 
 erecting huts and wigwams. It was a busy scene, 
 men hewing logs, laying out gardens and fields, 
 digging up the earth and planting. Some trapped 
 the wild animals and fowls on shore ; others made 
 nets with which to take fish from the river; while 
 some worked on the huts and wigwams, eager to 
 erect a roof to which they might give the endeared 
 name of home. Busiest and most hopeful of all 
 was the young sailor, who hoped soon to bring from 
 far-away England the blushing maiden. 
 
 Newport, with a small party, paid Powhatan, 
 the Indian emperor, a visit. The Indians were 
 already regarding the whites with suspicion; but 
 when they were disposed to murmur against them, 
 Powhatan said: 
 
 " They only want a little land, they will do us 
 no harm." 
 
 The visit was satisfactory to the Englishmen, 
 and they returned filled with wonder at the people 
 and country in which they were placed. 
 
 It was not long before the colony came to rely 
 on Captain John Smith. Their president proved 
 inefficient, and long before the charges against the 
 captain were dismissed he was the ruling spirit. 
 
 They wished to take him back to England for 
 
84 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 trial, but he refused and demanded an immediate 
 trial. It was granted, and Smith was not only ac- 
 quitted, but obtained a judgment against the presi- 
 dent of two hundred pounds for malice and false 
 imprisonment, which money Smith paid into the 
 treasury and took his seat in the council. Captain 
 Newport shortly after sailed for England, promising 
 to return in twenty weeks. 
 
 Wingfield's rule proved to be puerile and danger- 
 ous. Sickness and famine prevailed in the settle- 
 ment, and Smith with Stevens and a few others 
 set out on an expedition up the river to procure 
 food from the Indians. At Kecoughton, an Indian 
 village, he had a skirmish with the savages in which 
 he captured their idol "Okee," which he permitted 
 them to ransom for a boat-load of corn, venison, 
 and wild turkeys. 
 
 Smith returned just in time to save the colony. 
 Wingfield, who had been expelled from the presi- 
 dency, with one Kendall, had formed a conspiracy, 
 into which many others entered, to steal the pinnace 
 and return to England. 
 
 Smith had just returned, and was resting from 
 his toil, when Philip Stevens entered his apartment, 
 very much excited. 
 
 "What is the matter, my friend?" asked Smith. 
 
 " A great conspiracy has been revealed. A fel- 
 low who has been condemned to be hung has made 
 
JAMESTOWN. 85 
 
 a confession while at the gallows, that Wingfield 
 and Kendall with others are going to steal the pin- 
 nace and return to England. They have a quantity 
 of provisions already on board. See, they are get- 
 ting ready even now to sail!" 
 
 .From his open door Smith could see them, and 
 his brow grew dark. He ran from the house to 
 the fort. His strong mind and determined hand 
 alone could stay ruin. Turning the guns of the 
 fort on them, he shouted: 
 
 " Come back, or I will sink you!" 
 
 The conspirators were cowed and returned. 
 Kendall was afterward shot, but Wingfield es- 
 caped death. While Smith was absent up the 
 Chickahominy Eiver, a member of the council 
 named Archer, and the new president, Eatcliffe, 
 proposed in open council to abandon the settlement 
 and go back to Europe in the pinnace. They be- 
 gan to fear that they would run short of supplies 
 before winter was over; but this being in the au- 
 tumn, the rivers, lakes, and bays were thronged 
 with returning wild geese and ducks, and sleek, 
 fat deer became plentiful. Added to these Smith 
 returned with bounteous supplies. By degrees, as 
 their stomachs filled their hearts grew strong, and 
 the talk of leaving the settlement and going back 
 to England in a very little time died wholly away. 
 
 Smith was most active in securing their comforts. 
 
86 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 He directed the building of the granaries, and took 
 precaution to protect their food from the vermin and 
 damp. He instructed them in the building of 
 houses and forts, gave hints about their clothing, 
 and, in short, no father could have made better pro- 
 vision for his own family than did Smith for the 
 people who bad despised and ill-used him. Philip 
 Stevens grew- to admire and respect the wonderful 
 man more than before. He was devotedly attached 
 to this new land, and one day while talking with 
 Smith declared: 
 
 " If only Emily were here, I would be happy 
 and content." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 A fool's errand. 
 
 Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, 
 His honor and the greatness of his name 
 Shall be, and make new nations ; he shall flourish, 
 And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches 
 To all the plains about him. 
 
 —Shakespeare. 
 
 The summer, which had been so unpromising, 
 was gone. The winter so much dreaded was ap- 
 proaching; but, as our greatest fears vanish as we 
 approach them, so did the dread of winter. The 
 granaries were full, and the people of Jamestown 
 had an abundance of food, but they were not con- 
 tent. Many who a few weeks before would have 
 been satisfied with the assurance of a bare living, 
 were now content with nothing less than a gold 
 mine. Believing the New World to be one vast 
 deposit of earthly treasures, they demanded that 
 Smith, the much despised patriot who had brought 
 them their present comforts, should set out, despite 
 the dangers of approaching winter, to new adven- 
 tures and discoveries. One evening, as Philip 
 87 
 
88 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Stevens sat in his cabin in front of a fire of blazing 
 Jogs, bis mind wandered back over the scenes of 
 the past. What adventures and startling episodes 
 were covered in that retrospection ! Backward his 
 memory flew, until he reached that day in the dim 
 long ago, when he stood by the side of his infant 
 brother soothing his fears while the enemies' balls 
 were crashing through the roof of their house. 
 Here memory paused to dwell a moment on that 
 sad scene, and he asked himself: 
 
 " Where is my brother? Where are my parents? 
 How kind and gentle they were!" Then he 
 thought, " It is not far to St. Augustine. It is on 
 this very shore, and if I had a vessel I could go 
 there. My mother, whom I remember as so sweet 
 and young, may be old, and my father bent and 
 tottering with age. What joy it would be to have 
 restored a son whom they have mourned as dead!" 
 
 His mind was occupied with schemes for coasting 
 down the Atlantic shore, or traversing the vast 
 forest, when Captain John Smith entered: 
 
 "Good-evening, friend! methinks you be in a 
 ruminating mood this eve," said the captain, in 
 his cheerful manner. 
 
 "Why so?" asked Philip. 
 
 "I have been at the door no little time gazing at 
 you, as you sat absorbed with pictures in the fire. " 
 
 "I have been thinking," said Philip. 
 
A FOOL'S ERRAND. 89 
 
 " It is well to think, if your thoughts are pious, 
 and followed with resolute action," remarked 
 Smith, taking a seat. 
 
 " Captain Smith, I have told you the story of 
 my life." 
 
 "You have, and a right sad story it is." 
 
 " You know how I was captured when a child 
 by Sir Francis Drake, when he reduced St. Au- 
 gustine — taken away from my parents and brought 
 to England." 
 
 "I have heard it all." 
 
 "It cannot be far from St. Augustine?" 
 
 Captain John Smith gazed at him and said: 
 
 " You cannot call it near, my friend, unless you 
 be mad. You could not reach it by sea, for 
 we have no vessel sufficiently large to bear us 
 there. You could not reach it by land, for that 
 would require a journey of many weary months, 
 in which you would perish in the wilderness." 
 
 "But I am determined to find some of my 
 family. My parents would receive me with open 
 arms. I have heard of St. Augustine. One of 
 the mariners was there once, and, perchance, saw 
 my parents." 
 
 After a few moments' reflection Captain Smith 
 said: 
 
 "You left twenty years ago, and probably your 
 parents long since died, if they Were not slain.' 
 
90 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Even if they be living, surely it will be impossible 
 to find them, for no one could make the journey 
 through the forest. Give over such thoughts and 
 come with me." 
 
 ""Whither go you, captain?" 
 
 "On a fool's errand, verily; but one' must keep 
 moving, all the same," and Captain Smith laughed 
 in his hearty manner. 
 
 Philip said: 
 
 "You are not one to make fool's journeys." 
 
 "Nay, verily, my friend; but the men- grow 
 restless with inactivity. Perchance it is because 
 they want to get rid of part of us. The chief cause 
 for their complaints have been removed, for our 
 last expedition up the Chickahominy has provided 
 us with an abundance of food. Besides which, on 
 the approach of winter, the rivers are so covered 
 with swans, geese, ducks, and cranes, and the woods 
 with divers sorts of wild animals, as fat as we can 
 eat them, that none desire now to leave for England." 
 
 "What more do they require?" 
 
 " In truth, I do not know, and verily I doubt 
 they do, unless, perchance, it is their own ruin." 
 
 " Heed them not, and obey only the dictates of 
 your own judgment." 
 
 " Your advice is wholesome, friend Philip; but 
 our comedies seldom last long without a tragedy, 
 and it would seem as if they were providing one." 
 
A FOOL'S ERRAND. 91 
 
 "What is their plan?" asked Philip. 
 
 " Complaints are being made against me for not 
 discovering the head of the Chickahominy Eiver, 
 which they insist will lead to the long-desired 
 South Sea, and the council have pressed it upon 
 me, and taunted me with being too slow in so 
 worthy an attempt." 
 
 "Why don't you insist upon the folly of such 
 an undertaking?" asked Philip, who knew that a 
 voyage up the river at this season of the year 
 would be decidedly hazardous. 
 
 " In vain I have urged upon them the necessity 
 of providing sufficient stores for the winter. They 
 heed me not; their bellies are full, and as it ever 
 is and ever will be with them, they take no thought 
 of the morrow. So it has been settled that I shall 
 go." 
 
 For a long time the two men sat gazing at the 
 fire, neither speaking. Stevens knew that to refuse 
 the decision of the council would be open rebellion 
 to the authorities ; while Smith, brave and daring 
 as usual, was ready for any sort of an adventure. 
 After long considering the matter in silence, he 
 asked Philip: 
 
 "Will you accompany me?" 
 
 "Certainly, Captain Smith," was the answer. 
 "I feel that to desert you now, would be cowardice. 
 I will go!" 
 
92 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "Be ready to start at once." 
 
 "At once?" 
 
 " Yes, with the morning we commence the voy- 
 age. Bring with yon yonr arms. Is your gun in 
 good condition?" 
 
 Captain Smith glanced at the rack made of deers' 
 antlers on the wall, where hung the matchlock. 
 
 He took it down and examined it, and finding 
 it in prime condition, said: 
 
 " Wear your breastplate to turn the arrows of the 
 Indians." 
 
 " Are the natives hostile?" 
 
 " Since the skirmish at Kecoughton they have 
 not been friendly, and they may resist our advance." 
 
 "Be careful in selecting your men." 
 
 "In truth there is but little choice after you. 
 Those careless, indifferent vagabonds seem born 
 to be food for savages, pestilence, and famine. They 
 consume the products of our labor and yield noth- 
 ing in return." 
 
 " Why did the king and projectors of the colony 
 not foresee that these men would be worthless to us? 
 It is men, not gentlemen, who are needful in this 
 new world." 
 
 Captain John Smith remained with his young 
 friend until late in the night, and left him to pre- 
 pare for the perilous and toilsome journey. 
 
 At early dawn Philip was awake. The report 
 
A FOOL'S ERRAND. 93 
 
 of a gun, the sound of a horn, and the general bus- 
 tle and confusion about the new settlement bore 
 evidence that something of more than ordinary im- 
 port was about to transpire. The young sailor 
 hurriedly dressed, ate a breakfast of cold venison, 
 bread, and dried pumpkin, and donning his breast- 
 plate and helmet buckled on his sword, and shoul- 
 dering his gun set out to the boat in which the 
 voyage was to be made. A dozen men, including 
 two Indians whom Captain Smith had secured as 
 guides, sat in the boat. They were provided with 
 axes, hatchets, and saws, in addition to their weap 
 ons. 
 
 The colonists were all gathered on the shore 
 and bade them God-speed, hoping they would soon 
 return with a report of the outlet to the South Sea. 
 
 The fact that they expected to reach the Pacific 
 coast in a few days or weeks is evidence of their 
 ignorance of the continent. 
 
 For half the day they sailed up the stream, 
 and then came suddenly upon some trees drifted 
 and jammed into the river so that they were com- 
 pelled to call a halt and cut them loose. Smith 
 and Stevens engaged to do this themselves, and 
 each with an axe mounted a log and began to cut 
 away. 
 
 The drift was cleared at last. As they entered 
 the boats to ascend the river, Philip said: 
 
94 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "See! see! an Indian!" 
 ' "Where?" asked Captain Smith. 
 
 "Ashore on our left. He is gone now." 
 
 Captain Smith and the others looked in the di- 
 rection indicated by the young man's finger; but 
 the Indian had disappeared. 
 
 "This incident warns us to exercise renewed 
 caution," said Captain Smith. "The Indians may 
 be intent on assaulting us. We dare not venture 
 within bow-shot of land." 
 
 As they advanced up the stream they were fre- 
 quently compelled to pause and cut away the logs 
 before a passage could be made for the boat. At 
 last they came to a place where the barge could go 
 no further, and Smith had them move it out of 
 bow-shot from the shore in a broad bay. 
 
 " I will take Robinson and Emry with the two 
 savages, and go in the canoe up the river," said 
 Smith. "You must remain here and not goon 
 shore under any consideration." 
 
 "I will obey you," Philip answered. 
 
 " And I will leave you in command of the boat. 
 See that the others also obey." 
 
 "I will do my best to control them." 
 
 Captain Smith, accompanied by Robinson, Emry, 
 and the two Indian guides, set off up the river. 
 
 The shores looked peaceful. There was not a 
 savage in sight along them or in the forest, as far 
 
A FOOL'S ERRAND. 95 
 
 as the eye could penetrate, and yet the experience 
 of John Smith told him that those dark old woods 
 might conceal a lurking foe ready at any moment 
 to leap out upon him and dash out his brains, or 
 pierce him with arrows. 
 
 He studied the countenance of his guides; but 
 there is no face so difficult to read as an Indian's. 
 These young men's features were as immovable, 
 grave, and solemn as if they had been carved out 
 of stone. Slowly they moved up the river, for the 
 stream was so full of drift-wood as to make it 
 extremely difficult even for a canoe to force its 
 passage. 
 
CHAPTBE VI. 
 
 CAPTAIN SMITH CAPTURED. 
 
 Let laurels, drenched in pure Parnassian dews, 
 Reward his mem'ry, dear to every muse, 
 Who, with courage of unshaken root, 
 In honor's field advancing his firm foot, 
 Plants it upon the line that justice draws 
 And will prevail or perish in her cause. 
 
 — Cowpee. 
 
 Captain John Smith's canoe was scarcely out of 
 sight around the bend in the river, when George 
 Cassen, a restless sort of a fellow, began to look 
 with longing eyes toward the shore. 
 
 " Why should we wait here cramped up in this 
 barge when the peaceful shore invites us to it?" 
 
 "Eemember, our orders are to not go near land," 
 Philip answered. 
 
 "But there can be no danger." 
 
 "Of that you know nothing." 
 
 " We can see the shore and forest, and surely they 
 harbor no danger," Cassen answered. 
 
 Philip had served long enough as a sailor to 
 appreciate the necessity of obedience. He was 
 96 
 
CAPTAIN SMITH CAPTURED. 97 
 
 powerless, however, to control these reckless fellows, 
 for everybody joined Oassen in his determination 
 to go ashore, and the bark was pulled thither, de- 
 spite the threats and entreaties of Stevens. They 
 landed and began to explore the country, when they 
 suddenly found themselves surrounded by savages. 
 All fled toward the boat in which Stevens remained, 
 gun in his hand. He raised his gun and fired at 
 the foremost of the pursuers, checking them. All 
 the men got aboard except George Cassen, who was 
 seized when near the bank of the river, and borne 
 away amid shouts and yells of triumph. The In- 
 dians, by means of signs, asked him which way 
 Smith had gone, and he pointed up the river. 
 They then bound the prisoner to a tree, shot him 
 full of arrows, and left him dead at the root. 
 
 Philip Stevens wanted to go up the river after 
 Captain Smith ; but he could do nothing with those 
 fellows, who clamored loudly to return to James- 
 town. When he threatened them with violence, he 
 was overpowered, and the boat put back to the fort. 
 
 Meanwhile, Captain John Smith's canoe went 
 twenty miles further up "the river, shooting swiftly 
 and silently along the dark stream. His watchful 
 eye -noted all the landmarks along the shores, and 
 his observations were unusually acute. The dim 
 twilight of the forest threw him into fitful moods of 
 pleasant contemplation. Again and again he was 
 7 
 
98 POCABONTAS. 
 
 startled from his reveries by the sudden splash of a 
 ■water-fowl. Here and there dimpling whirlpools 
 and swimming eddies were formed by the opposing 
 branches and tree-trunks in the current, shaping 
 his feelings and giving an agreeable turn to his 
 thoughts. Finally, when they had gone as far as 
 they well could, and after having fought their way 
 through all such obstacles as sunken logs and in- 
 terlacing tree-branches, he took one of the two In- 
 dians on shore with him, leaving the white men 
 with the other in the canoe. 
 
 "Be continually on the lookout, and if any dan- 
 ger threatens you, fire a single musket," said 
 Smith on leaving. 
 
 "There is no danger here," said Emry, "for 
 there is not a savage in five leagues save the two 
 with us." 
 
 "Don't feel too safe. Greatest danger comes 
 from fancied security." 
 
 " We are not cowards," said Roberts boastfully. 
 
 "No," Emry responded, "a single musket-shot 
 will put a host of Indians to flight." 
 
 "Prudence is not cowardice," Smith concluded. 
 " Be watchful, and you will be safe. Be careless 
 and you will be lost." 
 
 "We will all go ashore," Robinson declared. 
 " The stream is rapidly growing narrower, and we 
 cannot advance much further." 
 
CAPTAIN SMITH CAPTURED. 99 
 
 Once more cautioning them, Smith hurried away 
 into the forest accompanied by the guide. Passing 
 over a hill he was soon out of sight of his com- 
 panions. Hardly had he gone a twenty minutes' 
 walk into the woods, when his guide suddenly 
 gave utterance to that shrill, unearthly cry called 
 the. warwhoop. Captain Smith was startled, and 
 for an instant hesitated how to act — but only for 
 an instant; then he seized the guide and held him 
 fast, and, presenting a pistol at his head, cried: 
 
 " Give utterance to another such a yell and I 
 will blow out your brains." 
 
 If the Indian did not understand his words, his 
 actions were easily comprehended, and he became 
 mute. Smith had the presence of mind to secure 
 the guide with his long, stout garter, which he took 
 from his leg, tying him to his arm. 
 
 "Whiz!" came an arrow through the air, strik- 
 ing the ground close at his feet, and, looking up, 
 he saw the woods filled with savages running 
 toward him. 
 
 They discharged another volley of arrows, and 
 one stuck in his thigh, causing a stinging pain, but 
 doing him very little injury. 
 
 "I am betrayed by this scoundrel," thought 
 Smith, glaring at his guide. " But for humanity, 
 I would blow out his brains. Whatever harm 
 may befall me, he shall share it." 
 
100 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 During the fight which followed, he used the 
 guide as a shield to ward off the arrows. Taking 
 the spanner from his belt, he wound up the lock 
 of his gun, and still smarting from his wounds, he 
 fired at the savage nearest, sending a bullet to his 
 brain. The Indian fell with a groan, and his com- 
 panions kept at a respectful distance, all the while 
 discharging their arrows as rapidly as they could; 
 but all fell short. 
 
 Smith began to retreat toward his boat reloading 
 his gun, and when they came near, he discharged 
 it again and wounded two. Seeing that his terrible 
 weapon was empty, the Indians rushed at the white 
 man, but were met by two shots from his pistols, 
 killing one outright. The Indians were disheart- 
 ened, for they had not yet overcome the dread of 
 those thunder-making guns. 
 
 They fell back, and Smith, reloading his weap- 
 ons, continued to retreat. The false guide, whom 
 he used as a shield, proved an unruly companion 
 and had to be dragged by main force. He received 
 many an ugly box on his ears for his stubbornness, 
 which he bore without a murmur. 
 
 The savages, of whom there now appeared a large 
 number, soon began to press forward upon him 
 again, compelling him to use all the exertions that 
 he could command to keep them at bay. They 
 were afraid of his fire-arms, which made a great 
 
CAPTAIN SMITH CAPTURED. 101 
 
 deal in his favor. Besides, he took constant care 
 to keep the Indian guide between himself and them, 
 reasoning that they would be very loath to get 
 possession of the adventurer's scalp at the price of 
 one of their own number. 
 
 Affairs had reached this state, and Smith seemed 
 in a fair way to get off, when an Indian chief, 
 with the unpronounceable name of Opechancan- 
 ough, came up with two or three hundred war- 
 riors. 
 
 " My last chance of escape has vanished," thought 
 Smith, gazing around upon the band of Indians, 
 who, now that their numbers were so great, ad- 
 vanced nearer. " I deem it but right that a man 
 should defend his life while he can, and this victory 
 will cost them dear." 
 
 With a thunder of yells they pressed upon him ; 
 but he raised his gun and again the stunning report 
 shook the air, and one more of their number fell 
 dead. After this the Indians kept at a respectful 
 distance, discharging their arrows while he an- 
 swered with his pistols. The gun becoming cum- 
 bersome he threw it away. They would not come 
 within range of his weapons, and he adroitly man- 
 aged to interpose his guide between himself and 
 their arrows. Seeing that he stood the test of brav- 
 ery so well, they held a parley. Smith, who under- 
 stood something of their language, by a liberaLuse 
 
102 
 
 of signs to supply words he could not speak man- 
 aged to convey his meaning to them. 
 
 "If you will at once surrender, you will receive 
 no harm," said an Indian for Opechancanough. 
 
 "I do not trust in your fair promises," Smith 
 answered. 
 
 "The two white men in the canoe are dead," 
 returned the Indian, "and you can only escape 
 their fate by surrendering to us." 
 
 Smith was not a little staggered to hear of the 
 death of his two companions; but he utterly refused 
 to listen to any proposal of surrender. 
 
 " I do not know that you will keep faith "with 
 me," he said, as he slowly fell back before the 
 savages. "You have slain my companions, and 
 you may likewise dispose of me." 
 
 Smith hoped all the while that they had told him 
 falsely, and that if he could reach the canoe he 
 might go down the stream to the barge, which, if it 
 had obeyed his orders, would be safe from an 
 attack. He did not know at that time that George 
 Cassen was dead, and that Philip Stevens had been 
 forced to return. He kept slowly retreating, and 
 drawing his Indian shield after him step by step. 
 The savages pressed on, though they were as care- 
 ful as ever to keep out of reach of his weapons. 
 
 As he retreated backward, facing his enemies, 
 and not carefully heeding the way he took, the path 
 
CAPTAIN SMITH CAPTURED. 
 
 103 
 
 behind him suddenly yielded beneath his feet, and 
 down, down, he sank in the depths of a wet and 
 cold morass, that must have formed one of the 
 sources of the Chickahominy River. Of course 
 
 "It was folly to think of holding out longer." 
 
 he dragged in the treacherous Indian guide after 
 him; and there together they floundered in the 
 water and mud, quite up to their armpits. 
 
 It was folly to think of holding out longer. 
 Smith struggled manfully to get out of the mud 
 and water, but found it impossible to drag himself 
 
104 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 to solid ground, for as he gained part of the firm 
 bank it broke away beneath him, and again let him 
 fall into the water. Two or three times the treach- 
 erous guide came near drowning, and, but for the 
 kindly aid of Smith, he would have done so. The 
 white man was becoming chilled, for the day was 
 very cold, and there was a thin crust of ice on the 
 water. There was nothing to do now but to die 
 miserably or surrender, and he chose the latter, 
 hoping to make friends with them and thus save his 
 life. Therefore, mustering up all the Indian lan- 
 guage at his command, he called out: 
 
 "Don't discharge any more arrows. I am ready 
 to give myself up." 
 
 The Indians still kept at a respectful distance, 
 though they discharged no more arrows. For a 
 long time Smith knew not what to do cold seemed 
 to pierce the marrow of his bones, and he was in 
 danger of being paralyzed unless he was soon drawn 
 from the chilly water. The Indians, believing him 
 secure, were in no hurry to seize him, for the longer 
 he remained in the mud and water the weaker he 
 would become. Again he called to his enemy: 
 
 "Help me out of this mud ani water and I will 
 surrender." 
 
 "We will not come near while you have the 
 thunder-guns," one of the Indians answered. 
 
 Smith, realizing that it .was the fear of his pistols 
 
CAPTAIN SMITH CAPTURED. 105 
 
 which kept the Indians at a distance, threw them 
 away, also his sword, and then they came and drew 
 both him and the Indian out of the water. They 
 were shivering with cold and wet to their breasts. 
 His captors led him from the morass to the spot 
 where Emry and Robinson lay dead and still bleed- 
 ing. A fire had been built here, and the Indians 
 at once set about rubbing the stiffened and be- 
 numbed limbs of Captain Smith, until he had fully 
 recovered the use of them. 
 
 When he became somewhat warm and his teeth 
 had ceased to chatter so that he could speak dis- 
 tinctly, he asked: 
 
 "Where is your captain, or leader?" 
 
 After several efforts he made them understand 
 him. The sight of the lifeless bodies of his com- 
 panions made a great impression on the captain, 
 and he continued to ask for their leader, until they 
 pointed to Opechancanough, king of Pamunkee, 
 saying-: 
 
 "He is our chief." 
 
 "I have a present for you," said Smith, and he 
 removed from his neck a round ivory double com- 
 pass-dial, the like of which the Indians had never 
 seen before; and, giving it to the king, added: 
 
 "Take it, it is yours!" 
 
 The savages were amazed at the sight of the 
 strange object, and all crowded about the compass, 
 
106 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 gazing in wonder at the playing of the needle, 
 which they could see so plainly, but could not 
 touch on account of the glass cover. 
 
 "What is it?" the chief. asked. 
 
 " It is a compass," Smith answered. " The nee- 
 dle always points at one place which we call the 
 north. Wherever you may go, be it night or day, 
 cloudy or the brightest sun, it will tell you which 
 is north as truly as the star that shines of a cloud- 
 less night." Seeing that the Indians listened to 
 him with profound attention, he resumed: "The 
 world or earth which we inhabit is round and the 
 skies are above it. The stars are all spheres or 
 worlds as our own, only they are so far away they 
 seem small. The sun chases the night round about 
 the earth continually, never overtaking it. There 
 are a great many nations on this earth, and they 
 have a variety of complexions, red, yellow, white, 
 and black. The nation I come from is to yours 
 antipodes, because we live on the opposite- of the 
 earth from you." 
 
 This lecture lasted fully an hour, and to give it 
 all would tire the reader. It is doubtful if the 
 Indians profited by it, for, as soon as they had 
 somewhat satiated their curiosity, they came to 
 look upon their dead brothers, and began to demand 
 vengeance. Tying Captain Smith to a tree, they 
 danced their war-dance about him, and then a 
 
CAPTAIN SMITH CAPTURED. 107 
 
 dozen gathered in front of him with their bows 
 and arrows, preparing to shoot him to death. The 
 gallant captain thought his last hour had come, 
 and, breathing a prayer for the salvation of his im- 
 mortal soul, he closed his eyes, as he supposed, for 
 the last time; but the end was not yet. 
 
 The king was so delighted with the compass 
 that he would not see the donor put to death, and 
 holding it up said: 
 
 " The great white man must not be slain. See 
 what he has given me, and he may have other 
 wonders for us. Eel ease him." 
 
 At this command the prisoner was released and 
 well supplied with food. Knowing that he was a 
 great man among his followers, he was spared the 
 fate of his unfortunate companions; but he knew 
 not what his fate would be. Perhaps an immediate 
 and sudden death would be far better than the 
 doom for which he was reserved. 
 
 Opechancanough, king of Pamunkee, was subject 
 to the great chief or emperor, Powhatan. He was 
 very kind to Captain Smith, giving him the best 
 of food until he aroused the prisoner's suspicion 
 that he was being fatted for some future feast. 
 Although the charge of cannibalism had never been 
 proved against the natives, he had no assurance 
 that they were not cannibals. The captain was 
 led through the woods by a burly savage holding 
 
108 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 each wrist, and thus conducted from village to vil- 
 lage through the depths of the gloomy forest. On 
 their approach to each village, they set up hideous 
 cries and yells that brought out the women and chil- 
 dren, who gazed in wonder and astonishment at the 
 prisoner. Then the Indian warriors began danc- 
 ing and yelling like fiends about the captain, after 
 which he was fed and all resumed their journey. 
 
 At last they arrived at a village called Orapakes 
 where Powhatan used to dwell at some part of the 
 year, and it was expected that he would be there 
 soon. While waiting the arrival of the emperor, 
 the Indians prepared to send spies to Jamestown. 
 As it happened, one of the Indians wounded by 
 Smith's pistols was nearing his end, and his father 
 brought him to Smith, just as he was breathing his 
 last, and said: 
 
 "Cure him." 
 
 "I cannot," he answered. 
 
 " Surely, you who killed him by unknown means 
 can bring him to life easily." 
 
 Even while they talked the young Indian died, 
 and his father wanted to kill Smith, declaring: 
 
 " You could have saved him and you would not. " 
 
 For a few moments the captain was at wits' end 
 to think of some plan by which he might extricate 
 himself from this dilemma. At last he hit upon a 
 plan, and, turning to the Indians, said: 
 
CAPTAIN SMITH CAPTURED. 109 
 
 "I have at Jamestown some magical water that 
 would have cured him. Will you let me go and 
 fetch it?" 
 
 The ruse would not work as completely as he 
 wished it, however, for they would not let him go. 
 It was their intention to assault the town at no distant 
 day, and they even asked his advice, offering him as 
 a recompense life, liberty, land, and wives. Smith 
 advised them not to attempt it, as the Englishmen 
 were in impregnable forts. He magnified their 
 cannon and muskets, assuring them that they could 
 batter down the hills with their artillery. Learn- 
 ing that spies were going to Jamestown, he got 
 permission to send a letter for magical water, and 
 taking two leaves from his table book, by means 
 of a charred stick he wrote: 
 
 " I am a prisoner at Orapakes, held by Opechancanough, 
 king of Pamunkee, subject to Powhatan, emperor of 
 Virginia. The messengers who bring this are spies, sent 
 to view the fort and make report thereon. Do you affright 
 them well and magnify your defences in such manner 
 that they may have no heart to undertake the assault upon 
 Jamestown ; but at the same time send by them such 
 articles as I shall enumerate therein in my inventory. 
 Fill their minds with such stories of difficulties and dan- 
 gers, especially of the mines, the great guns and other 
 engines, and do exceedingly affright them, and may the 
 God who hath borne us through the wilderness so bring 
 us out of this great tribulation. 
 
 "John Smith." 
 
110 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Accompanying the letter was a list of trinkets 
 which Smith wished sent to him. The Indians 
 departed, and in three days returned, but with 
 such reports of Jamestown and its wonderful de- 
 fences that the savages were deterred from making 
 the attack upon it. 
 
 The Indians again set out on their journey to 
 find Powhatan, and for part of the time traversed 
 both the Eappahannock and the Potomac Rivers, 
 and finally brought the prisoner to Pamunkee 
 where Opechancanough himself dwelt. Prom here 
 they journeyed to Opitchapam. There they con- 
 tinued to feast him with all the food he could be 
 made to swallow, while his own fears of being eaten 
 himself returned with increasing force and perplex- 
 ity. During this time they tried their utmost to 
 bribe him to betray his companions at Jamestown. 
 They offered him their richest gifts, if he would 
 only tell them how they could get into the fort 
 without hurt from the guns ; but Smith resolved to 
 die sooner than turn traitor, and would not give 
 them a single word of information. How unlike 
 his selfish comrades, to save whom he was risking 
 his life! 
 
 The Indians wanted, most of all, to know some- 
 thing of gunpowder. They got possession of a 
 small bag of powder which he carried about his 
 neck, and asked how they could put it to some use. 
 
CAPTAIN SMITH CAPTURED. Ill 
 
 " It would serve you best by sowing it on the 
 ground like onion seed," said the shrewd prisoner, 
 and they took him at his word, and the powder 
 was lost. They asked him to discharge one of his 
 pistols for them, that they might learn the use of 
 it themselves. 
 
 Taking it in his hand, he dexterously broke the 
 cock, and said: 
 
 " There, it is broken and spoiled. It was an ex- 
 cellent weapon; but now it is good for nothing. 
 Let me have the other, and I will show you how it 
 is fired. " 
 
 The Indians were too shrewd, however, and said 
 he might break it, also, and then laugh them to 
 scorn for their ignorance. Smith was a puzzle to 
 them on all sides. They could not conquer his 
 spirit by fear; they were not rich enough to bribe 
 him; they felt assured in their untutored minds 
 that he possessed a far superior wisdom to their 
 own, and the respect which they accordingly enter- 
 tained for him was the very shield and buckler 
 that in his extremity afforded him the surest pro- 
 tection. 
 
 All the while the great prisoner lingered in 
 doubt and uncertainty, not knowing how soon he 
 should be offered at some savage feast. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 How could the stern old king deny 
 The angel pleading in her eye? 
 How mock the sweet, imploring grace 
 That breathed in beauty from her face, 
 And to her kneeling action gave 
 
 A power to soothe and still subdue, 
 Until, though humbled as a slave, 
 
 To more than queenly sway she grew. 
 
 —SIMMS. 
 
 There is no story more dear to the heart of the 
 American than that of Pocahontas. It has been 
 so often narrated that it has become a nursery 
 legend, yet in all history none more dramatic and 
 touching can be found. It has moved hearts since 
 it was first told to civilized ears. Each succeeding 
 generation reads anew the tender tale, narrated, 
 perhaps, by some new author, who, in song or story, 
 makes of Smith and Lis child rescuer the incarna- 
 tion of his own fancy. It has been told in romance, 
 sung to the sweet notes of the harp, performed on 
 the stage, and gravely narrated by the historian, 
 yet wherever heard, however told, it loses nothing; 
 112 
 
POCAHONTAS. 113 
 
 the story itself is always the same, and never fails 
 to move the heart of the listener. 
 
 While with Opechancanough, Captain Smith 
 was kept in continual dread, for he could not rid 
 himself of the belief that he was being fatted 
 for some barbarous banquet. This fear kept him 
 in such suspense that he scarcely dared to shut his 
 eyes to sleep. He fell upon the devise of starving 
 himself, and never did mortal dread an increase of 
 adipose tissue more than this captive; but his ap- 
 petite was uncontrollable in the presence of such 
 tempting viands, and he regarded with alarm his 
 increasing plumpness. To form the subject of 
 some future orgies, to deck the triumph of some 
 savage prince was no part of his choice. His pres- 
 ent captivity was bad enough ; but there might be 
 things, he imagined, even worse. 
 
 He was at last informed that he was to be con- 
 ducted to the emperor. Next day the journey 
 was undertaken, to the seat of Powhatan, which 
 was called Werowocomoco. The captive was sur- 
 rounded on every side by terrible looking savages, 
 in the midst of whom he was conducted along a path 
 leading through the very heart of a dense and 
 gloomy forest. Everything contributed to add to 
 his fears. The grim, menacing appearance of the 
 Indians, their dark looks, mysterious frowns and 
 unintelligible gibberish, in tones so low as to defy 
 
114 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 his deficient knowledge of their language, seemed 
 to inspire dread. During the entire journey, he 
 was in one way and another kept in a perpetual 
 state of alarm, until he finally reached, with his 
 escort, the place where the royal chief, Powhatan, 
 dwelt. 
 
 Smith, who was anxious to be rid of his suspense 
 in some way, hoped for an immediate interview 
 that would decide his fate. " If I am to he roasted 
 and eaten, wherefore should I defer the knowledge 
 of it?" he reasoned. For a considerable time he 
 was denied an interview. The Indians wished to 
 impress him as deeply as possible with a sense 
 of the greatness and majesty of their noble king; 
 and accordingly were in no haste to bring about a 
 meeting, but put it off on one pretext and another, 
 all the while taking pains to make such shows and 
 ceremonies as would most likely give their intended 
 victim an impressive idea of their numbers and 
 power. They knew that Smith was the chief of 
 the whites, whether the narrow-minded English- 
 men at the settlement so admitted or not. 
 
 H is bold, aggressive spirit and good common 
 sense had naturally stamped the impr ess of lead- 
 ership on his fore head. The jjavages determined tnat 
 such a famous prisoner should be presented at the 
 court of Powhatan with all the state and ceremony 
 with which it was possible to surround him. 
 
POCAHONTAS. 115 
 
 "Wherefore is all this foolish delay and cere- 
 mony?" Smith asked himself, as he waited impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 Two hundred warriors were alre ady gathered 
 about his person, w atching with unaffected wonder 
 every movement h e made, while savages came 
 flocking in from other tribes in the vicinity, eager 
 to lay their eyes on the captive whose name and 
 fame had gone abroad in their land. In solid 
 phalanx they crowded so thickly about him that 
 he saw hideously bedaubed savages in every di- 
 rection he turned hi s head, and their stern forbidding^ 
 presence cast a deeper gloom over his already de- 
 pressed spirits . 
 
 An end to doubt and uncertainty came at last. 
 One day a savage, who was some sort of a petty 
 chief or officer, came to the prisoner, and said: 
 
 "Make ready to go to the emperor, the great 
 Powhatan." 
 
 "I have been ready this long while!" Smith 
 answered. 
 
 He was led from the retreat where he had been 
 kept, and brought before that august personage, 
 the emperor, for whom all this pomp and display 
 had been undertaken. Powhatan was seated on a 
 sort of a throne like a bedstead with his dusky ret- 
 inue around him. On either side of the Emperor 
 sat a young woman of sixteen or eighteen years of 
 
116 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 age, and along each side of the house were two 
 rows of men, and behind them as many women, 
 all with their heads and shoulders painted red. 
 Many of their heads were decorated with the white 
 down of birds; but all wore something in their 
 hair, and great chains of beads about their neck. 
 The most fantastically attired of all was Powhatan, 
 who was covered with a great robe of raccoon skin, 
 forming an eccentric, but not an unbecoming cos- 
 tume for a savage chief. Before the emperor 
 burned the council fire, which the Indians were 
 never known to neglect. 
 
 The appearance of the prisoner was the signal 
 for a yell that made the welkin ring, and a woman 
 called the Queen of Appomatox brought Smith 
 water with which to wash his hands, and another 
 tendered him a bunch of feathers with which to 
 dry them, after which Smith was seated on a mat, 
 and the deliberation went on. An abundance of 
 food was placed before the prisoner, of which he 
 was directed to partake, though just at this time 
 his appetite was not the keenest, for his mind was 
 filled with vague conjectures as to what would be 
 the outcome of all this ceremony. 
 
 In vain he had gazed about that dusky throng 
 for some friendly glance. He met none, until he 
 beheld a little maiden in whose large, dark eye he 
 fancied he noticed an expression of sympathy. 
 
POCAHONTAS. 117 
 
 From the liberty she assumed, as well as from her 
 rare costume of fawn-skin, bright feathers and 
 furs, he knew she must be the child of the empe- 
 ror. Her face was beautiful and her olive com- 
 plexion was heightened by her great dark eyes and 
 arched brows, giving to her an air of divine beauty. 
 She was but a child of ten or twelve years. Why 
 did she so strangely attract Smith's attention? 
 Perchance intuition, that "small still voice" which 
 never deceives, foretold that in this weak child he 
 would find his preserver. The strongest warrior 
 in that band was powerless to aid him, yet a child 
 might save his life. Wonderful is the strength of 
 love!. 
 
 The little maid was seen prattling with Pow- 
 hatan in her sweet, innocent, childish way; but 
 that stern old chief put her quietly aside, and re- 
 sumed his council with his men. 
 
 The suspense was at last over. The deliberation 
 came to an end with a startling whoop, which 
 caused the prisoner's heart to give a great bound in 
 actual fear. He could not at first determine what 
 conclusion had been reached, for he was unable to 
 read in their stern, unbending countenances his 
 doom, though from the first he was tormented with 
 most cruel apprehensions. 
 
 He was not long kept in suspense after the 
 breaking up of the council, for by words and signs 
 
118 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 he was informed that he was to suffer death. The 
 indictment against Smith charged him with being 
 the leading spirit of the strange, white settlers. 
 He had slain four of their number with mysterious 
 weapons, which spoke with the voice of thunder 
 and breathed the lightning. He was captured 
 while prowling about, exploring and spying the 
 country, searching for secrets among their tribes, 
 and probably concocting some terrible mischief 
 with which to visit them. It was believed that if 
 he were out of the way, all further harm from the 
 colonists would be at an end. Therefore it was 
 best that he be brought to his doom, and their 
 country freed from the presence of a power superior 
 to their own. 
 
 He received his sentence in the presence of a 
 multitude, all listening and looking on with sav- 
 age intensity . The decree was, that he die without 
 further delay. Never did _ a d oomed man hear 
 his sentence with more comp osure. He was con- 
 scious of having done no wrong, and, though death 
 might be visited on him, he would meet it with 
 resignation and without a murmur. 
 
 Two large stones were rolled into the building 
 and placed before Powhatan. The prisoner sur- 
 veyed the proceeding with a calm and unmo ved 
 demeanor . He knew what was to follow, and 
 breathed a silent prayer to heaven for his soul. 
 
POCAHONTAS. 119 
 
 An eager and excited crowd then laid violent hold 
 on him, and forthwith, dragged him to the spot. 
 Across one of the stones they laid his head, while 
 a few stalwart savages, with huge clubs, took up 
 their station near their victim, ready to obey the 
 imperial signal to dash out his brains. 
 
 Smith, had by this time given over every hope of 
 escape, and lay calm and unmoved awaiting his 
 terrible fate . It was a moment of the most intent 
 anguish even for his brave soul. Ignorant of when 
 the order would be given for the deadening blow, 
 he only awaited the fall of the fatal club on his head. 
 In that single moment Smith lived a whole life 
 crowded into one second of time. The horrible 
 death, the ending of his brightest prospects, th e 
 'termination of a gallant and victorious care er in 
 such a humiliating and barbarous manner was 
 enough to fill his soul with agony . 
 
 Smith closed his eyes, as he supposed to open 
 them no more on earth. Powhatan was ready to 
 make the fatal signal, when a piercing shriek rang 
 out on the air, causing the prisoner involuntarily 
 to start and turn his head in the direction of the 
 cry. Out from the silent group of females, he saw 
 the figure of a little girl dart almost as rapidly as 
 thought towai'd him. For the moment he was 
 filled with astonishment and almost forgot his awful 
 doom. • In less time than the whole occurrence can 
 
120 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 be told, she sprang forward between the uplifted 
 clubs of the executioners and the head of the in- 
 tended victim, and, throwing herself upon his neck, 
 encircled it affectionately with her arms. A sudden 
 shout of wonder rose from the savage multitud e at 
 so novel and unexpected an event, and all eagerly 
 strained their gaze to learn who the damsel was. 
 A single look, a single cry, as if every voice had 
 uttered it in one breath: 
 
 " Pocahontas ! " 
 
 It was the beloved daughter of their mighty 
 king, tha t stern, old warrior who had never s hown 
 mercy to the condemned. It was Pocahontas, who 
 had been entreating her father all along to extend 
 compassion to the victim. She had pleaded, with 
 tears running from her beautiful eyes, that he 
 would spare the unfortunate captive. 
 
 Much as Powhatan doted on his sweet child, his 
 savage heart had not yet learned to relent from its 
 once formed purpose. In solemn council thepris- 
 oner had been condemned to die, and he ordered 
 him to be executed. 
 
 "What meant that strange cry? What slight 
 form was that which darted forward? The old 
 chief saw — he knew, even before the name of that 
 beloved child was pronounced, who it was. There 
 was Pocahontas, her arms about the victim's neck, 
 her warm cheek pressed against his own, interpos- 
 
POCAHONTAS. 121 
 
 ing her valuable life for this white stranger. In 
 her mellow Indian tongue she cried : 
 
 "No! no! Slay him not! He shall not die!" 
 For a moment the executioners stood with up- 
 lifted clubs, abashed and confused, not knowing 
 what course to take. They dared not strike, for 
 the blow would fall on the head of their darling 
 princess. As soon as the profound astonishment 
 which the incident produced had in a measure sub- 
 sided, the brows of the executioners began to relax 
 from t heir savage rigidity , and another feeling 
 took possession of their hearts, while their dread 
 war-clubs dropped harmlessly at their sides. It 
 was an incident not to be lightly passed over, that 
 the one who had thus openly befriended the prisoner 
 was the daughter of the king. Her arms had been 
 about his neck, her tears had fallen on his face, 
 and her sweet and tender compassion was not to be 
 lightly regarded. Even her childish partiality de- 
 served the sober and serious regard of the bravest 
 and sternest warriors. 
 
 Pocahontas was the idol of her royal father. 
 A boon that she dared in this manner to crave it 
 was next to impossible to refuse. The perfect art- 
 lessness with which she begged it, the open and flow- 
 ing bravery with which the act was accompanied, 
 the childish faith which she seemed to have in her 
 own ability to protect the prisoner, wrought so 
 
132 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 much upon the stony nature of her father and his 
 councillors that they soon yielded to the power of 
 the new influence, and a stay of execution was 
 granted until her prayer could once more be heard. 
 
 Unfortunately for the world, Smith did not un- 
 derstand enough of the Indian language to translate 
 this appeal. It was a prayer for mercy by ajittkj, 
 untutored savage ; but, mightier than the strongest 
 warrior, more eloquent than the greatest orator, 
 she pleaded, she swayed, she moved, she carried the 
 assembly, and her father, that stern old chieftain 
 whose eagle eye never quailed in battle, was con- 
 strained to cry ■ 
 
 "Let the prisoner go." 
 
 A wild shout of joy went up from the multitu de 
 of savages, who now that th'eir hearts had be en 
 warme d by the childish spirit of Pocahontas, r e- 
 joiced that t he captive was spared . No wonder 
 that the name of Pocahontas is held in sweet re- 
 membrance by a grateful world through all the 
 shifting scenes of ages. She who among the ne w 
 strange people was first to kneel at the altar and 
 w orship the true God, had, within her heart , the 
 s pirit of Christ even from her savage infancy , 
 " h umanity, love, and charity for all mankind. " 
 
 Dazed and confused, Smith was raised to his 
 feet, and a happy band of braves danced about him, 
 and the women sang strange, wild songs of joy. 
 
POCAHONTAS. 123 
 
 "What doth all this mean?" asked Captain 
 Smith, rubbing his eyes, and feeling that he had 
 just awakened from a dream. 
 
 Then came Opeehancanough to the prisoner, 
 and by words and gestures said: 
 
 "Your life is to be spared." 
 
 "For which I give God thanks!" said Smith. 
 
 " The great king's favorite daughter, Pocahontas, 
 has asked that you be spared, and her wish is 
 granted." 
 
 He was then led to the timid little maiden, whose 
 cheeks were wet with- tears, and whose frame still 
 trembled from the excess of her pent-up emotions, 
 and was informed: 
 
 " Pocahontas has interposed and saved your life, 
 and you henceforth belong to her." 
 
 Captain Smith understood that he was to be the 
 slave of Pocahontas. From that time forward, he 
 was to belong to her; to go where she sent him; 
 to obey her wishes in everything; to minister to 
 her wildest fancies, and to perform such acts of 
 servile labor as would mark him a dependent and 
 favorite. He was grateful for the privilege , for 
 never had a slave a more gentle mistress, nor mis- 
 ■tress a more devoted slave. 
 
 Being thus thrown in the society of so powerful a 
 chieftain as Powhatan, Smith was not long in mak- 
 ing his influence felt all about him. His presence 
 
124 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 among the savages was such a wonder, and his 
 valorous deeds havin g already excited so_ _large 
 aTshare of their admiration, it was only natural 
 that heshould _make his _o wn strong m argjippn 
 their modes of thought and action. Powhatan 
 Vas so well pleased with his daughter's slave that 
 he elevated him from the degrading position of 
 bondage to the dignity of son, adopting him into 
 his tribe, and bestowing on him such favors as 
 were only vouchsafed to his kindred. 
 
 The kingly parent had come to the conclusion 
 that a superior power must have interfered to save 
 his victim from death, and his kind treatment in- 
 creased in proportion to his superstition. 
 
 As the friendship between Powhatan and Cap- 
 tain Smith deepened, the chief began to talk with 
 him about his liberty, and promised him that at 
 no distant day he would send him to the settlement. 
 The design of the crafty old. king was to get pos- 
 session of the fort and guns of the English, and in 
 order to do this he was playing a deceitful game 
 with Smith ; but, shrewd as he was, Powhatan was 
 playing with one well skilled in diplomacy and 
 duplicity. On every strategic point, Smith proved 
 more than a match for the wily chieftain. 
 
 Heknew that Powhatan only intende d to give 
 him his free dom, hoping that, by doing so, he 
 wduld~e asily recapture him~ amT!Ie^trov~the whole 
 
POCAHONTAS. 125 
 
 colony. The astute chieftain plied him with nu- 
 merous questions about the condition of the white 
 settlers, and sought in every way to make himself 
 familiar with their weak and strong points of de- 
 fence. Smith was acute enough to pene trate his 
 plans, and met his inquiries with answers full y their 
 equal in adroitness and dece it. 
 
 Most of all the articles possessed by the whites, 
 the Indians wanted those great guns, with which 
 the fort was mounted. Captain Smith heard Pow- 
 hatan's wishes and expressed a perfect willingness 
 to give him the cannon if he would send some of 
 his warriors with him to bring them back. Pow- 
 hatan had heard of the wonderful powers of grind- 
 stones for sharpening weapons, and next to the 
 cannon he wanted grindstones. By way of barter 
 for these much coveted things, he freely promised 
 the whites a tract of land which he did not himself 
 happen to possess, and from which he intended to 
 expel them, as soon as they should have established 
 themselves thereon. 
 
 The great chief told the captain wonderful sto- 
 ries of the wealth and greatness of tribes that dwelt 
 beyond him toward the west, and in return Smith 
 more than matched his wild stories with narratives 
 of the grand cities he had himself visited in Europe, 
 of the many and strange people he had seen in the 
 other quarters of the earth. He took great pains 
 
126 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 to impress on the chieftain's mind the vastness of 
 the ocean, and spoke of Captain Newport and his 
 vessels as being expected soon. 
 
 Smith was finally promised his liberty in a few 
 more days. During that interval it was Powhatan's 
 wish that all his people should have an opportunity 
 to behold so wonderful a being, for the chieftain's 
 admiration for his prisoner increased daily. He 
 grew to such an extent in Powhatan's regard, that 
 the latter seemed loath to part with him at all, and 
 began to make serious proposals for him to come 
 with his colonists and settle near him. In order 
 to offer more tempting inducements for such a 
 change of location, he promised that the settlers 
 should be supplied with venison and grain in great 
 abundance. Being eager to either entrap or coerce 
 the whites into his plans, the wily Indian at last 
 consented to send his adopted son back to the set- 
 tlement, under an escort of a dozen of his savage 
 followers. So Smith took his departure, with 
 those ignorant and deluded sons of the forest, who 
 expected without fail to return in a short time 
 witb a load of grindstones and cannon on their 
 backs. 
 
CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 VENGEANCE OF FRANCIS. 
 
 We oft by lightning read in darkest nights ; 
 And by your passions I read all your natures, 
 Though you at other times can keep them dark. 
 
 — Crownb. 
 
 The journey to Jamestown was but twelve miles; 
 but, being through an interminable forest with 
 swamps and trees intervening, it required two full 
 days to make it. During the entire journey, 
 Smith's mind was tortured by continual fears, for 
 he was not quite certain he would not yet be slain 
 and eaten by his savage guards. His knowledge 
 of their language was imperfect, and his excited 
 imagination construed many of their mysterious 
 signs and nods into a direct menace. When they 
 halted at night in an old deserted hut, he fully be- 
 lieved that his guard would slay him. He did not 
 fully realize the power of Powhatan over his sub- 
 jects, nor did Smith fully understand the old chief- 
 tain. All the friendly advances of Powhatan were 
 rejected by the English, as the acts of a treacherous 
 127 
 
128 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 enemy whose only desire was to get them in his 
 power. 
 
 It was nearly sunset on the second day when he 
 came within sight of the settlement of Jamestown. 
 The quaint houses or huts from which the blue 
 smoke was curling, the fort with the dark cannon, 
 and the men going about the streets in their daily 
 avocation, were welcome sights to the returned cap- 
 tive. 
 
 He was met by the young sailor, Philip Stevens, 
 who was overjoyed at his return. 
 
 "God has sent you in good season," said Philip. 
 
 " Why so?" asked Captain Smith, in some alarm, 
 for by the anxiety expressed in the face of Philip he 
 knew that something of more than ordinary moment 
 had transpired. 
 
 "Some of the malcontents are contemplating 
 seizing the pinnace and deserting the colony." 
 
 "Who is in command since I left?" 
 
 "Archer." 
 
 "A very cunning knave." 
 
 " He is one of the ringleaders who contemplates 
 running away." 
 
 " If they attempt it, I will turn the guns of the 
 fort on them," said Smith resolutely. " It stands us 
 in hand not to quarrel at present among ourselves, 
 as we have a barbarous enemy surrounding us. 
 These savages, you see, are in reality spies upon 
 
VENGEANCE OF FRANCIS. 129 
 
 us. Give it out to the men that they are to be 
 well treated, however, for we wish to send back a 
 good report to Powhatan." 
 
 They entered the fort, and the Indians were 
 treated with great kindness, given all the food they 
 desired, and a house in which to sleep. Next 
 morning Eawbunt, Powhatan's trusty servant, came 
 to Smith and expressed a desire to have the great 
 guns and grindstones to carry back to their emperor. 
 
 "I will give them to you at once," said Smith, 
 and he led the Indians to the rampart and showed 
 them two demi-culverins and a. mill-stone, saying: 
 
 " There are the cannons, and there is the grind- 
 stone." 
 
 The savages gravely approached the coveted 
 prizes, and stooped to place them on their shoul- 
 ders. The first effort proved them somewhat heavy, 
 and they tried again. Smith standing by could 
 scarcely repress a smile. The combined strength 
 of the Indians was not sufficient to move one of the 
 guns. All their efforts to move the mill-stone 
 were equally unavailing, and Eawbunt, turning to 
 Smith, said: 
 
 "We cannot carry them." 
 
 Smith then explained that these were the light- 
 est of the big guns. 
 
 "How did you bring them here?" the savage 
 asked. 
 9 
 
130 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 " "We have some very strong men who carry these 
 guns on their shoulders; but they are gone away 
 on the ship, across the water. They will return 
 soon." 
 
 In order to show the Indians what terrible en- 
 gines these big guns were, Smith had them charged 
 with round, hard stones, and fired them into the 
 branches of a great tree which was loaded with 
 icicles and a thick coating of ice. As the two 
 cannon roared, the branches came tumbling down, 
 and masses of ice were scattered in every direction, 
 so that the Indians, half dead with terror, ran away. 
 After some moments he allayed their fears and 
 begged them to take the cannon to their chief; but 
 they refused to come near the pieces again. 
 
 Everything was in accordance with Smith's de- 
 sire, and he gave the savages some presents to carry 
 to Powhatan, his wives and children, and dismissed 
 them with a favorable impression of the magna- 
 nimity, greatness, and power of Chieftain John 
 Smith. 
 
 " Have you observed any more preparations for 
 departure?" Smith asked Philip Stevens. 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "When do they contemplate sailing?" 
 
 "In the morning." 
 
 " We will watch for them." 
 
 Captain Smith and his immediate friends, Philip 
 
VENGEANCE OF FRANCIS. 131 
 
 Stevens, Anthony Gosnold, Mr. Hunt the minister, 
 Thomas Morton and others, kept watch over the 
 fort during the night, to prevent the escape of the 
 rebels. 
 
 Meanwhile, preparations were being made by 
 Archer and his confederates for the departure. At 
 early dawn Smith, who was sleeping, was awakened 
 by Hunt, Stevens and Gosnold. 
 
 "They are going," said the minister. 
 
 " Then I will take the law into my own hands," 
 cried Smith, "and bring them back!" 
 
 He flew to the fort where he directed Philip to 
 train a cannon called a faker, carrying a ball of 
 five and a half pounds, on them, while he manned a 
 lighter piece called a falcon. Others appeared with 
 muskets, and before the deserters were fairly em- 
 barked, they were covered with the deadly firearms 
 of those companions, whom they were cowardly 
 abandoning. 
 
 "Hold!" cried Captain Smith to the astonished 
 deserters. " If you attempt to leave, we will sink 
 you." 
 
 Then Archer began to parley with him saying 
 they had a perfect right to go where they pleased. 
 
 " Fire the faker above their heads, Philip, so as 
 not to harm them, but near enough to affright them 
 into submission," said the captain. 
 
 Philip, aiming the cannon so that the ball would 
 
132 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 pass three or four feet above the men in the boat, 
 sent a shot hissing through the air. At the same 
 time Captain Smith discharged the falcon, and four 
 or five muskets were fired. 
 
 The whistling balls of lead and iron brought the 
 Englishmen to their senses, and they hurriedly re- 
 turned and gave over all thought of leaving. 
 
 Their enmity against Smith was not over, how- 
 ever. They had him arrested and strove to put 
 him to death, claiming that under the Levitical law 
 he was guilty of the murder of Eobinson and 
 Emry, as he had led them to destruction. 
 
 "Will they harm you?" Philip asked. 
 
 "No," Smith answered with a smile. "I will 
 quickly take such orders with these lawyers as will 
 lay them by the heels in durance, until such time 
 as I can send them prisoners to England." 
 
 Smith made his boasts good, and his enemies 
 were once more baffled and discomfited. But 
 with each discomfiture their hatred increased. 
 
 The improvident colonists had failed to preserve 
 their provisions, and the result was they became 
 spoiled. It was now mid-winter, and Smith had 
 to depart on a new expedition for food. One 
 evening, Philip come to his house and said: 
 
 "I wonder that you toil so long and expose 
 yourself to so many dangers for people as ungrate- 
 ful as these." 
 
VENGEANCE OF FRANCIS. 133 
 
 "They are unwise and helpless," Smith an- 
 swered, " more deserving of pity than of condem- 
 nation." 
 
 " Will you again start away among the Indians 
 for food?" 
 
 "Unless Newport soon returns, I shall." 
 
 " I wish the ship was here, for I am eager to 
 hear from England." 
 
 " Aye, lad, I see by your face that you hope for 
 news from one you left behind. It needs no proph- 
 et to tell that it is the fair Emily." 
 
 Philip blushed, but made no answer. He sat 
 for a long time, and gazed into the bright log fire, 
 listening to the roaring of the winter winds with- 
 out, and shuddering as he thought of his friend 
 braving the dangers of the forest. His mind grad- 
 ually crept back over the past scenes in his event- 
 ful life, until once more he was beneath that far 
 away parental roof, and lived over again that ter- 
 rible day at St. Augustine, when Sir Francis Drake 
 came to drag himself and his infant brother away 
 to bondage. 
 
 "Prythee, Philip, where are your thoughts?" 
 asked Captain Smith. 
 
 "I was thinking; I will go home." 
 
 "Back to England?" 
 
 "No, England is not my home. I will go back 
 to Florida. I am a Spaniard. My parents live 
 
134 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 there. How gladly they will welcome the wanderer 
 from so many strange lands!" 
 
 Smith's usually bright face grew sad. The life 
 of the young sailor had been so much like his own, 
 so full of excitement, wild adventures and sad in- 
 cidents, so intermingled with the lights and shadows 
 of existence, that he felt strangely drawn toward 
 him. 
 
 "You cannot go now, Philip," he said sadly. 
 " It is mid- winter, and it would be folly to think for 
 a moment of leaving." 
 
 "When spring comes I will go. I have too 
 long already delayed the search for my parents. 
 They know not that I live, and they will rejoice 
 to see me." 
 
 " Wait until summer. Think no more of it now, 
 and chide not yourself for lack of faithfulness." 
 
 It was late that night when Philip and the cap- 
 tain separated, the former to dream of that far-off 
 southern home of his childhood, while the latter 
 planned for the welfare of the men who would 
 willingly have put him to death had they dared. 
 
 Captain Smith was awakened next morning by 
 Philip rapping on his door and calling him by name. 
 
 On his inquiring what was wanted, Philip an- 
 swered : 
 
 " There are some Indians in the fort with a little 
 maid, who wishes to see you." 
 
VENGEANCE OF FRANCIS. 135 
 
 Smith hurriedly dressed and received his guests, 
 who were Pocahontas and some of her father's ser- 
 vants, whom she had brought loaded down with 
 provisions for him. The affection of the little 
 maid for the man whose life she had saved was so 
 great, that every four or five days she either sent 
 or brought him provisions which he divided among 
 the hungry colonists. Powhatan, who was far 
 more friendly with the whites than the average 
 historian gives him credit for being, also sent him 
 many stores of provisions, for which Smith paid 
 him in such trinkets as pleased his savage nature 
 most. 
 
 The malcontents became jealous of the popularity 
 of Smith and Stevens among the Indians, and in 
 order to secure favor began to pay more for pro- 
 visions than they, which had a great effect in " bull- 
 ing the market." 
 
 At this opportune moment, Captain Newport 
 arrived from England with a vessel, and his pres- 
 ence for a long time quelled any. further symptoms 
 of insubordination. 
 
 The happiest man in the colony was Philip 
 Stevens, for the vessel brought him a letter inclosed 
 and sealed with red wax and addressed in a neat 
 feminine hand. It was as follows: 
 
 "Dear Philip: — I received a letter from you by this 
 ship, and forasmuch as you did not forget to write to me, 
 
136 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 I shall proceed to answer you, so that Captain Newport 
 may return with my letter. I was particularly interested 
 in all you said in your letter, and certain parts of it I did 
 read to my mother and certain other parts I did not read 
 to any one. We were particularly interested in all you 
 wrote ahout, and your description of the savages did 
 much interest my mother. She wanted to know much of 
 the country and talks as if she fully expected that she 
 would soon make her home in this strange, new world. 
 What did most interest me, and that which I kept unto 
 myself, was your asking me to share your new home as 
 your wife. I did not know that you loved me except as a 
 brother, Philip ; but since you have avowed your love, I 
 will state that when you have your home ready, I will be- 
 come your wife. I will speak to my mother, though I 
 know she will give her consent ere I ask her ; but there 
 will be time enough to talk to mother when the home is 
 prepared and fitting for your wife. I was pleased that 
 you said that our mother would come to share our home 
 with us. We will wait until you have the home ready, 
 and then we will come. I forbear to write further, hop- 
 ing to receive an answer by the next return ; so I take 
 leave, commending you to the Lord, resting in him. 
 
 "Your loving friend, 
 
 "Emily." 
 
 The above would not be exactly the kind of an 
 epistle a lover of the present day would expect from 
 his sweetheart; but it is needless to say that it was 
 quite in keeping with the age and filled Philip's 
 heart with joy. There was no coquettish -dissem- 
 bling, but a frank confession. Philip, on his 
 departure from the widow's house, had made no 
 avowal of love, nor had there been any betrothal. 
 
VENGEANCE OF FRANCIS. 137 
 
 He merely stated that he was going to the New 
 World to build up a home for his foster mother and 
 sister, where they might be happy. 
 
 Her letter drove from the mind of the young 
 man all thought of going to Florida; but the 
 stirring events in. the colony soon called his atten- 
 tion to other matters than prospective happiness. 
 
 Newport become foolishly jealous of the wonder- 
 ful popularity of Captain Smith among the Indians. 
 Like all weak men he thought to display his own 
 wisdom in the criticism of others. He fancied he 
 could make much better bargains with the Indians 
 than could Smith, and fix himself even more deeply 
 in their affections, by letting them have his articles 
 of traffic at lower rates and in more liberal supplies. 
 
 By this time the Indians had begun to carry on 
 considerable trade, or "truck," as the colonists 
 termed it; but in a little while the dangerously low 
 prices at which Newport offered his goods made a 
 confusion of everything. 
 
 With silent chagrin Smith saw that Newport's 
 short-sightedness and vanity were fast bringing the 
 colony into contempt and disrepute. 
 
 Powhatan had expressed a desire to see Captain 
 Newport, and, in order to check the evil influence 
 of the latter' s course, Smith pursuaded him to go 
 with him to Werowocomoco. 
 
 Filling the pinnace with a variety of articles 
 
138 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 most likely to please the savage fancy, and selecting 
 thirty men, among whom was Stevens and Smith, 
 Newport set forth for the chieftain's residence. 
 When they neared the chief's town, Newport began 
 to evince a dread of meeting the savages. 
 
 "Fain would I go back, Captain Smith, since 
 what I have heard of these savages convinces me 
 that they might overwhelm and destroy us by their 
 superior numbers!" said the cowardly Newport. 
 
 " Surely, captain, you will not fear to go with 
 thirty armed, men, where I went alone," answered 
 Smith. 
 
 This delicate allusion to Newport's courage 
 somewhat piqued him, and he resolved to go for- 
 ward. When they reached the Indian town, New- 
 port could not be prevailed upon to go ashore. 
 Captain Smith answered the fears of the craven with 
 silent contempt, and, with Philip Stevens and 
 twenty men, he started to the lodge of Powhatan. 
 He was met on the way by a band of Indians, 
 who accompanied him to the lodge of their great 
 chieftain. 
 
 Near the lodge of the dusky king, Smith met 
 the little maid to whom be was indebted for his 
 life. His meeting with Pocahontas was affection- 
 ate and tender. The chief was waiting, and, with 
 Philip Stevens at his side, Smith entered his pres- 
 ence. 
 
VENGEANCE OF FRANCIS. 139 
 
 Powhatan was sitting upon his throne or bed of 
 mats. His pillow of leather was embroidered after 
 a rude manner with pearls and beads. He was 
 attired in a fine robe of skins as large as an Irish 
 mantle. At his left side sat a handsome young 
 woman, and on each side of his house sat twenty 
 of his concubines, their heads and shoulders painted 
 red, with great chains of white beads about their 
 necks. Before these sat his chief men, in like order 
 in his arbor-like house, and more, than forty platters 
 of fine bread were arranged in two rows on each 
 side of the door. Four or five hundred warriors 
 formed a guard behind them for the passage of 
 Smith and his men, and a proclamation was issued 
 by the king, Powhatan, that none, upon pain of 
 death, were to injure or offer any indignity to their 
 visitors. 
 
 The Indian king majestically nodded a silent 
 welcome to the party, and at once made room for 
 Captain Smith by his side. Smith made him a 
 present of a dog, a hat, and some red cloth, which 
 the emperor received with manifest pleasure, 
 ordering water to' be brought for his friend's hands. 
 
 Powhatan inquired about Newport, asking why 
 he did not come to the lodge himself, and Smith 
 was put to his best wits to form a reasonable ex- 
 cuse without exposing the cowardice of the cap- 
 tain. He had learned enough of the Indian char- 
 
140 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 acter to realize that cowardice is the most serious 
 of all sins to the savage. 
 
 "Where are the great guns you promised me?" 
 asked Powhatan. With a good-humored laugh, 
 Smith answered: 
 
 " Prythee, where are the warriors you were to 
 send and carry them away?" 
 
 "I have none who can," answered Powhatan. 
 
 "Nor have I any strong enough to bring them." 
 
 It was a pleasant interview, and tended to 
 cement the friendship of Smith and the chieftain. 
 When the Englishmen started to go back to the 
 pinnace the tide was so low they could not hope 
 to reach it that night, so they returned to Powhat- 
 an's lodge, where they were feasted bounteously. 
 
 Next morning, Powhatan accompanied them to 
 the river, where Newport came on shore, and the 
 Indian king withdrew to make preparations for him. 
 Newport was anxious to atone for his cowardice, 
 and, in order to establish himself in the good graces 
 of Powhatan, most affectionately gave the Indian 
 emperor a boy named Thomas Salvage, whom 
 Powhatan adopted as his son; and in exchange 
 made Newport a present of Namontuck, his trusty 
 servant. 
 
 Three days more were spent in feasting, and 
 dancing, and trading, during which time Powhatan 
 carried himself so proudly and discreetly that he 
 
VENGEANCE OF FRANCIS. 141 
 
 won the admiration of the Englishmen. In the 
 smaller barter and exchange, he took no part. 
 He scorned to trade in the same manner as did his 
 subjects, and on the third day he said to New- 
 port: 
 
 "Captain Newport, it is not agreeable to my 
 greatness in this peddling manner to trade for trifles, 
 and I esteem you as a great chief. Therefore lay 
 me down all your commodities together; what I 
 like I will take, and in recompense give you what 
 I think fitting their value." 
 
 Having faithfully translated what the old chief- 
 tain had said, Smith added: 
 
 "Don't accept his offer - it is only a device to 
 cheat us." 
 
 "Device, is it?" answered Newport. "I will 
 outbrave this savage in ostentation of greatness, 
 and so bewitch him with my bounty as to have 
 what he has listed." 
 
 In vain Smith told Newport the folly of his act; 
 he would have his way, and, bringing all the com- 
 modities he had to purchase food for his colony, 
 he laid them down before the chief, who, in return, 
 gave him four bushels of corn. 
 
 " Is that all we are to have?" Stevens asked Cap- 
 tain Smith. 
 
 "It is all we can have. By the mass, we could 
 purchase corn cheaper from Spain," Smith an- 
 
142 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 swered. Then in an undertone, that he might not 
 wound the feelings of Captain Newport, he added: 
 "It is the folly of Newport. He cannot safely 
 break the bargain now." 
 
 "Cannot you devise some plan by which we can 
 obtain food?" Philip asked, for he had great con- 
 fidence in the ability of Captain Smith to accomplish 
 desperate things. 
 
 "I will try," was the answer. 
 
 Shortly after, Smith exhibited for barter two 
 pounds of blue glass beads which he praised 
 highly, representing that they were very popular 
 among the kings and queens of his country. 
 Powhatan was eager to obtain the worthless baubles, 
 and offered more corn for them than he had given 
 to Newport for goods worth a hundred, times their 
 value; but Smith hesitated and intimated that he 
 did not care to part with them. The price went 
 up until he procured three hundred bushels of 
 corn for the beads. 
 
 The Indians were afraid of their firearms and 
 often requested Smith and Newport to leave them 
 in the fort, which they refused to do, much to the 
 disgust of the wily chief. 
 
 From Werowocomoco the Englishmen set out for 
 the king of Pamunkee, where Smith did fully as 
 well in trading beads for corn. 
 
 While here, Pocahontas was sent to bring the 
 
VENGEANCE OF FRANCIS. 143 
 
 white men back to Powhatan, who wished to trade 
 more with them. Back they went to the old chief, 
 and once more opened up their trinkets to his eyes. 
 
 He gave another Indian boy to Newport, who 
 promised to take him to England, that he might 
 bring back tidings to the great chief of the mighty 
 people who lived beyond the seas. The lad did 
 visit England and, standing in the streets of 
 London, attempted to cut a notch on a stick for 
 every person he saw, but soon gave up in despair,, 
 and, on his return, informed Powhatan that the 
 people were more numerous than the leaves on the 
 trees. 
 
 Shortly after the departure of Newport, Stevens 
 one day found a glittering substance in the earth, 
 which was thought to be gold. At once the colo- 
 nists were excited over the discovery of rich deposits 
 of treasure, and as the spring advanced and the 
 time for planting came, they forgot that food was 
 better than gold, and grew insane with their foolish 
 projects. There was no talk, no hope, no work, 
 but dig gold, wash gold, refine gold, and "one mad 
 fellow desired to be buried in the sands lest they 
 should, by their art, make gold of his bones." 
 
 This infatuation came to an end. One morning, 
 while Philip Stevens, Captain Smith, and Mr. 
 Hunt were at work on the meeting-house, Philip 
 suddenly cried: 
 
144 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "Fire! fire! See, the granary is on fire!" 
 
 In a moment the wild cry was caught up, and 
 the gold miners, carpenters, and all sprang to the 
 defence of their property. But the structure was 
 thatched with the most combustible material pos- 
 sible, and soon the entire building was in flames. 
 Building after building was destroyed. Mr. Hunt's 
 house and library, with many valuable records, were 
 burned. Even the palisades about the fort took fire, 
 though they were ten yards from the burning houses. 
 
 Again was the colony almost reduced to want; 
 but Captain Smith, aided by Philip and Mr. Hunt, 
 tried to instil some courage into the colonists, and 
 they began to rebuild their burned houses, and 
 make the best they could of a bad affair. 
 
 A few weeks later the Phoenix, a ship which 
 had started with Newport, but had been compelled to 
 put into the West Indies for repairs, came into the 
 James River, and her passengers disembarked. 
 
 Philip was on the shore to witness the disem- 
 barkation. A middle-aged man suddenly came 
 toward him, saying: 
 
 "Ha! I have found you, slave! To this part 
 of the New World you have fled." 
 
 In a moment Philip recognized his former master, 
 Henry Francis. Drawing himself up to his full 
 height, with all the dignity of his proud Spanish 
 ancestry, he answered: 
 
VENGEANCE OF FRANCIS. 
 
 145 
 
 "I am no slave. I have worked out my appren- 
 ticeship, and, henceforth, I am free." 
 
 "We will see! we will see!" said Francis, his 
 eyes flashing fire. "I came to seek wealth. 
 Finding you, I shall now have another motive. I 
 will reclaim my slave." 
 
 From that day, Philip realized that he had an 
 enemy in the colony, and trouble began to thicken 
 about him and his friends. 
 
 The Indians had, in the mean while, thrown off 
 the mask of friendship and began pilfering. Fran- 
 cis courted their acquaintance, and he and a kins- 
 man of the same name, and a Dutchman named 
 Adams, aided and comforted the thieves. 
 
 Swords and knives where stolen, and one day 
 Philip Stevens and some of the men met with a 
 party of thieves, and a fight was the result. A 
 few days later nine savages were entrapped by 
 Smith in the fort. 
 
 " Fire ! Fire ! The granary is on fire I ' 
 10 
 
CHAPTBE IX. 
 
 THE LITTLE ANGEL. 
 
 She saw the sun on a summer sky 
 
 And clouds of amber sailing by, 
 
 A lovely land beneath her lay, 
 
 And that land had glens and mountains gray ; 
 
 And that land had valleys and hoary piles, 
 
 And merled seas, and a thousand isles ; 
 
 Its fields were speckled, forests green, 
 
 And its lakes were all of the dazzling sheen, 
 
 Like magic mirrors where slumbering lay 
 
 The sun, and the sky, and the cloudlet gray. 
 
 — Hogg. 
 
 "Now we have a ransom for all they have 
 stolen," said Smith. 
 
 "What are you going to do with them?" Philip 
 asked. 
 
 "I shall hold them until the stolen property is 
 returned," Smith answered. 
 
 " Suppose they refuse to return it?" 
 
 "Then the Indians shall suffer." 
 
 As in all other matters for the welfare for the 
 colony, Captain Smith met with direct opposition 
 from the colonists. 
 
 "Eelease the prisoners, I pray thee," put in 
 146 
 
THE LITTLE ANQEL. 147 
 
 FraDcis. "Wherefore would you enrage their 
 friends to destroy us?" 
 
 "I will not release them!" was the answer. 
 
 " Surely, this reckless man hath not the good of 
 the people at heart," said Archer. 
 
 One, William More, a year or two younger 
 than Philip Stevens, had arrayed himself from the 
 first against Captain Smith, and he determined on 
 the release of the savages. William detested Philip, 
 because he was a friend of Smith, and was next to 
 him in popularity. 
 
 "Prythee, release them!" he argued. "Eelease 
 them, and save our lives." 
 
 Smith was unmoved, and when his cowardly 
 apponents threatened to use force, he again had 
 recourse to the heavy guns. Such a power as 
 Smith was capable of using had its effect on the 
 men dumb to reason. 
 
 "We can do nothing with him," said More to 
 Francis. "The fellow would slay us if we op- 
 posed him." 
 
 " Let us turn him over to the Indians," suggested 
 Francis. 
 
 To Adam, a Hollander, Francis and More re- 
 paired for consultation. 
 
 " These fellows, Smith and Stevens, are grown 
 too powerful, and it is now high time we put an 
 end to them," urged Francis. 
 
148 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "How can we?" asked Adam. 
 
 " I know a way whereby we may get rid of both," 
 interposed More. 
 
 "What is the plan?" demanded his companions. 
 
 " Turn them over to the Indians. I know some- 
 thing of the Indian language, and I can manage it 
 so they may be surprised." 
 
 "How will you?" asked Adam. 
 
 More laid bare a plan that for cunning and du- 
 plicity has never been surpassed. Strict orders had 
 come from England not to molest the natives. 
 
 These orders Smith adhered to, so long as he 
 could do so with safety to himself and the colony. 
 When the thieving and plundering became un- 
 endurable, he had acted, as we have seen, in a bold 
 and effective manner. The Indians, however, 
 roamed the woods close about Jamestown, and 
 William More, who was a loose and dissolute char- 
 acter, had courted their acquaintance. He and 
 Francis, in order to gain their favor, had been 
 stealing from their companions the much-coveted 
 swords and hatchets and giving them to the Indians. 
 
 "I will go among the Indians and post them so 
 they will be in ambush ready to seize and slay any 
 white men who may come that way. Then we 
 will see that no one save Stevens and Smith go by 
 that path." 
 
 The proposed plan was adopted, and that very 
 
THE LITTLE ANGEL. 149 
 
 day More proceeded to put it in execution. He 
 went into the wood as if to hunt, and soon met one 
 of the petty chiefs, to whom he narrated his plan. 
 The wily savage, of course, fell in with it, and with 
 a score of warriors lay in ambush at the point where 
 Philip Stevens and Smith would, according to their 
 plan, come. The prime motive prompting More 
 and Francis to plan the destruction of Smith and 
 Stevens was jealousy and hatred. Jealousy is one 
 of the devil's chief tools. By it he fashions all 
 his subjects and builds a torment for them on 
 earth. Hate follows envy and jealousy, as surely 
 as night succeeds day. Smith and Stevens had 
 done More and the Dutchmen no wrong; but they 
 had successfully managed affairs, had proved them- 
 selves superior in courage and wisdom, and, withr 
 out intending it, had become heroes. These men 
 hated them, because of their success. 
 
 On his return, More met Philip Stevens and 
 said: 
 
 " I slew a deer in the forest and was about to 
 bring it home, when two savages came and drove 
 me away. Will you go with me and aid me to 
 bring back my venison?" 
 
 "That I will," Stevens answered. "They have 
 stolen too much from us already." 
 • Philip did not dream of treachery. 
 
 Unfortunately Captain Smith was not at the fort 
 
150 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 and could not be found. Had he been informed 
 he would at once have seen through the scheme. 
 
 "I cannot find him, but I will go myself," said 
 Stevens on returning. One of the soldiers volun- 
 teered to accompany him, and, armed with mus- 
 kets, they sallied forth to the rescue of the veni- 
 son, led by More, who, knowing that success de- 
 pended on haste, ran along before them, calling: 
 
 "Hasten, or they will have the venison carried 
 away." 
 
 The unsuspecting men ran into the trap which 
 More, being some distance ahead, escaped. The 
 Indians allowed him to pass through their am- 
 buscade and run home; while they fell upon 
 Stevens and his companion and bound them with 
 eords. 
 
 Smith was unaware of the calamity which had 
 happened to his young friend, when a deputation 
 of Indians came demanding the release of the pris- 
 oners. Smith boldly met them, and, after hearing 
 their request, said: 
 
 "Your people shall be given their freedom when 
 all the articles you have stolen from the fort are 
 returned; and if those swords and hatchets are not 
 soon brought back, I will hang up every one of the 
 prisoners to the trees." 
 
 This bold threat served for a time to awe the " 
 Indians. They retired a short distance from the 
 
THE LITTLE ANGEL. 151 
 
 fort and paused in full view of Smith to hold a 
 consultation. This broke up after a few moments 
 and all hurried away into the wood. Captain 
 Smith went to his house, thinking he would hear 
 no more from them, when Mr. Hunt suddenly 
 came to him and said: 
 
 "They are coming back, captain, and bring 
 two white men with them." 
 
 "Prisoners?" asked Smith. 
 
 "Yea, verily, their hands are tied with good 
 strong cords." 
 
 Captain Smith, on hurrying to the fort, was 
 amazed and pained to discover that Philip Stevens 
 was one of the prisoners. The Indians halted a short 
 distance from the fort and sent a messenger to con- 
 sult with the captain. 
 
 "We have two of your soldiers prisoners," the 
 Indian boldly declared; "and unless you release 
 the Indians within the fort, we shall kill the white 
 men." 
 
 It was a bold threat, and for a single instant 
 Smith was unnerved; but he was not longer than 
 an instant inactive. He asked no one's advice, 
 but, wheeling about, ran to his house, where he 
 donned his armor and seized his sword. Then, 
 hastily gathering together a dozen men with swords 
 and pikes, he rushed suddenly upon the Indians, as- 
 sailing them with such fury as to drive them from 
 
152 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 the fort, and, rescuing the prisoners, brought them 
 safe and uninjured into the fort. 
 
 "How came you to be captured?" Captain 
 Smith asked Philip. 
 
 "William More had killed a deer which lay in 
 the wood, and the Indians had driven him from it. 
 "We went to assist him in retaking the deer. " 
 
 So neatly had More arranged all his plans, that 
 he was not yet suspected by Philip of acting the 
 part of a traitor. William explained that the In- 
 dians had given him a long chase, and that he 
 barely escaped with his life. After listening to 
 all he had to say, Smith thought: 
 
 "There is a deeper plot in all this than any of 
 us dream. I will learn all about it." 
 
 By threats and pursuasions, the captured savages 
 admitted that there was an organized conspiracy 
 against Captain Smith on the part of the Indians, 
 and that Powhatan was at the bottom of the plot. 
 This startling news confirmed the suspicions which 
 Smith had entertained. The old Indian was full 
 of deceit and hypocrisy, and his fair promises 
 and professions of friendship were not worth a 
 straw. While extending the pipe of peace with 
 one hand, his other held the death-dealing knife. 
 
 The student of history may have just cause to 
 doubt that Powhatan was as treacherous as Smith 
 believed. He might have been influenced by 
 
THE LITTLE ANGEL. 153 
 
 Francis and Adam, whom Captain Smith called 
 the Dutchmen. Certain it is, that Powhatan was 
 no more treacherous nor as much a knave as many 
 of the whites whom Smith had in his colony. 
 The Indian king became uneasy at the condition 
 of affairs, and thought it best to send back the 
 white boy that Newport had given him, with a 
 present of wild turkeys to the colonists. Smith 
 kept the turkeys and the boy too. Powhatan had 
 exhausted every resource to obtain the liberties of 
 his captive subjects save one, and he now fell 
 upon his last resort. 
 
 One morning Smith was notified that Pocahontas 
 wanted to talk with him. She had come with 
 three or four faithful attendants, and brought him 
 some deer meat. The whole demeanor of the stern 
 man changed. 
 
 "I must give them up," Smith said humbly. 
 "I can refuse all other petitions; but Pocahontas, 
 I cannot find it in my way to turn away. I am 
 bound to her by so many ties of gratitude that 
 whatever she asks she will obtain, though it 
 costs her old friend the greatest struggle of his 
 life." 
 
 He went forth to meet the little maid, who was 
 ever ready to plead for mercy for the red or white 
 man. She met him in her confiding, trusting, 
 childlike manner, and told him she had come to 
 
154 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 implore the release of the Indians and the white 
 boy. 
 
 " The prisoners shall all be given up, but only 
 as a present to you," said Smith. "I do not 
 admit that there is any justice in the demand; but 
 I am quite willing to let them go on the score of 
 gratefulness and generosity." 
 
 With the released captives Pocahontas set out 
 for her home, expressing only friendship for the 
 great white man, whom she had learned to love 
 and respect. 
 
 Smith had some trouble with Badcliffe, the inef- 
 ficient president of the council, which was partly 
 smoothed over by the intervention of friends. 
 
 Having a natural dread of idleness and a marked 
 disposition for continuous activity, Smith projected 
 an expedition of discovery up the Chesapeake Bay. 
 There was a vast stretch of land and water in that 
 direction, which he had a great desire to explore. 
 With fourteen men, one of whom was his faithful 
 young friend, Philip Stevens, on the second day 
 of June, 1608, he took his departure, steering for 
 the outlet of the James River. On making Cape 
 Charles, Philip, who sat in the bow of the boat, 
 called to Captain Smith and said: 
 
 "I see savages on shore." 
 
 " Make them know we are friends, and we will 
 go to them." 
 
THE LITTLE ANGEL. 15S 
 
 Philip, who had learned some of the Indian 
 language, hailed the savages, and told them they 
 were their friends. 
 
 "Then we welcome yon; come with us to our 
 prince of Accomac," answered the Indian. 
 
 They went, and the prince received them kindly 
 and showed them the greatest attention. From 
 Accomac they pushed on up the bay, running into 
 every little gulf, inlet or creek, that invited their 
 prow. Being overtaken by a thunder-storm and 
 tempest, they lost their sails, and supplied the want 
 with their shirts. Their appearance created great 
 excitement among the Indians, who followed them 
 for miles along the river, climbing trees to get 
 sight of them. As they were entering an inlet, 
 very narrow, with thick woods on either side, 
 Captain Smith, who sat in the prow by Philip, 
 suddenly seized him and hurled him to the bottom 
 of the boat, falling upon him, and crying: 
 
 "Down all!" 
 
 All followed his example, and it was well they 
 did, for a shower of arrows swept over their heads. 
 
 "Seize your muskets and give them a volley 
 before they can draw a second arrow!" cried Smith. 
 
 His men had their hands on their guns, and, ris- 
 ing, made ready to fire into the bushes, where the 
 ambuscade was formed. Smith stood up in the 
 prow with one foot on the gunwale, and fired both 
 
156 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 his pistols into the bushes. A rattling volley from 
 the soldiers was followed by the most horrible 
 yells and screeches of mingled rage, pain, and fear. 
 
 "Back out of the inlet," commanded Smith. 
 
 The boat was backed out, and resumed its 
 course up the main stream, and they never knew 
 what effect their volley had had on the enemy. 
 
 They steered northward, and came to the mouth 
 of the Patuxent, and from this point sailed onward 
 for some ninety miles, but saw nothing but grand 
 forests and strange wild beasts unknown to them. 
 Supplies ran low, and the men began to grow sick 
 and discontented. Therefore Captain Smith, much 
 against his will, was compelled to return. He went 
 back as far as the Potomac, and here succeeded 
 in pursuading his discontented companions into 
 making a short journey up the beautiful stream. 
 
 Accordingly, they sailed as far upward as their 
 inclinations led them, falling in with tribe after 
 tribe of Indians, some of them hostile and some 
 of them friendly. 
 
 By one of the friendly Indians they were informed 
 that Powhatan had designs against the colony in 
 their absence, and Smith, having cause to dread 
 the designs of the chieftain, turned back toward the 
 settlement. 
 
 Whether the reports against Powhatan were true 
 or not, there is some room for doubt. Powhatan 
 
THE LITTLE ANGEL. 157 
 
 had enemies among the Indians, who may have 
 maligned him, and, while he naturally wished the 
 arms of the white men, he might have been acting 
 in good faith, even honestly, according as his sav- 
 age education interpreted the meaning of the word. 
 
 On their way back, they fell in with canoes full 
 of savages, from whom they obtained fresh supplies 
 of venison and fish. Notwithstanding Smith's 
 anxiety to return to Jamestown, some of his foolish 
 companions went on shore at various places to 
 search for minerals; but of course nothing came of 
 their search but the loss of their labor and patience. 
 
 " The folly of these people will in the end prove 
 their ruin," said the captain, as he sat in the boat 
 with Philip, awaiting their return. 
 
 "They come now, captain, and we will hasten 
 to Jamestown," said Philip. 
 
 The men came aboard, and they drifted down 
 the stream . At the north of the Rappahannock were 
 many shoals, and, the tide being out, their barge 
 grounded on one of them. 
 
 " Here we must abide until the next tide comes 
 to float us," said Smith to his companions. As 
 Smith gazed into the shallow water, he spied 
 fishes swimming among the reeds, and he and 
 Philip began spearing them with their swords. 
 All the crew followed their example. 
 
 "Look, captain!" cried Philip. "What a cu- 
 
158 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 riously shaped fish!" He pointed to a long fish re- 
 sembling a thorn-back, with a tail like a riding 
 whip. 
 
 "Pierce it with your sword, Philip," said Cap- 
 tain Smith. 
 
 Philip made a thrust but missed. Dr. Eussel 
 next made an effort to capture the fish, but it 
 escaped him, and ran directly under Smith, who 
 sent the keen point of his sword into its side, and 
 pulled it wriggling and writhing into the boat. 
 As he went to pull the fish from the point of his 
 sword, it suddenly wrapped its tail about his left 
 wrist, and stuck its poisonous sting an inch and a 
 half into his flesh. Though no blood issued, the 
 pain was intense, and, dropping the fish into the 
 bottom of the boat, he gave utterance to a groan. 
 Dr. Russel examined the wound, but only a blue 
 spot could be seen ; but in three or four hours his 
 arm and shoulder were so swollen that his life was 
 despaired of, though Dr. Russel continued to apply 
 his remedies. 
 
 "It is useless, doctor," said Smith calmly. 
 "You have done what you could to save my life, 
 but I must die. Take me to the island and dig 
 my grave." Smith was carried by his sorrowing 
 companions and laid upon some robes under a tree, 
 while his companions proceeded to dig his grave. 
 Dr. Russel and Philip Stevens remained at his side. 
 
THE LITTLE ANGEL. 159 
 
 The moon rose slowly and looked sadly upon the 
 scene. The doctor, not wholly despairing, still 
 applied remedies to his patient, and when the grave 
 was finished he was still alive. The captain fell 
 into a fitful slumber, which after a while became 
 more quiet, and all supposed it would result in 
 death. At midnight the doctor reported the wel- 
 come news that the swelling had begun to subside. 
 
 "Are you quite sure, doctor?" Philip asked. 
 
 "lam." 
 
 "And is the danger over?" 
 
 "No, but it grows less." 
 
 Smith slept until morning, when he was able to 
 rise and walk about. He expressed his regret that 
 he had given his friends the trouble to dig his 
 grave. Next day they were able to leave the isl- 
 and, which they named Sting-ray Island after the 
 fish which had nearly caused the death of Captain 
 Smith. That name it bears to this day. 
 
 On the 21st of July, after an absence of seven 
 weeks, the voyagers returned to Jamestown, where 
 they found many sick and the colony in the great- 
 est distress, owing to the slipshod manner in which 
 the government was carried on. The people began 
 to have their eyes open, and, despite the combined 
 efforts of Francis, Adam, and More, Smith was 
 chosen president. He declined the office, preferring 
 to explore the country, and, with Stevens and four- 
 
160 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 teen men, once more set out to finish his explora- 
 tions. 
 
 He first went to the river of Patapsco and ex- 
 plored this stream and its four distinct branches to 
 their several heads, making a careful map of the 
 whole country. He fell in with a tribe called the 
 Massawomeks, who were hostile at first; but the 
 excellent tact of the leader changed their hatred 
 into friendship. He visited the Tockuoghs, and 
 the wild, fierce Susquehannocks, clothed in wolf 
 skins, and seeming so fierce and terrible that Philip 
 declared that they never could secure their friend- 
 ship; but Captain Smith soon taught them to re- 
 spect him. Next they fell in with the Eappahan- 
 nocks, who endeavored to lead them into an am- 
 buscade; but a volley from the muskets of the 
 whites sent them scampering away into the forest. 
 
 During this voyage, one of the party was attacked 
 by a lingering fever, and on the shore, overshad- 
 owed by the forest centuries old, he breathed his 
 last. His grave was dug and the last sad rites 
 were performed over it, and, after firing a volley 
 of musketry in honor of the dead, they turned 
 away. 
 
 They came in contact with tribe after tribe of 
 strange', wild people, until it seemed as if they were 
 bidding farewell to all the known world. Some- 
 times they were greeted as friends, and sometimes 
 
THE LITTLE ANQEL. 161 
 
 by an ambuscade. On the seventh day of Sep- 
 tember they returned to Jamestown once more, 
 bringing with them a liberal supply of meat, fish, 
 and several bushels of corn. During these voyages, 
 Smith had thoroughly acquainted himself with the 
 shores and bays of the Chesapeake, and on his re- 
 turn drew a map which is in existence to this day, 
 and, considering that it was the first map of the 
 coast, it is remarkably accurate. In all, he had gone 
 three thousand miles, through hardships which 
 would put to the severest test the courage and en- 
 durance of men far more notable than he. 
 
 Smith was sustained in all his trials by Philip 
 Stevens and Dr. Eussel. On their return, Smith 
 noticed that Philip was quite despondent, and 
 asked him the cause. 
 
 "Will the settlement ever be so that women and 
 children can live in Jamestown?" he asked. 
 
 "Surely, yes." 
 
 "lam disgusted with the folly of these people. 
 Eadcliffe, the former president, is in prison on 
 charge of mutiny " 
 
 "Be patient — be patient, friend," said Smith 
 hopefully. " A country cannot be made in a day. 
 Our people are not accustomed to the new order of 
 things. In time everything will come out right." 
 
 " Captain Smith, can I hope to see Emily again?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 11 
 
162 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 " On my return I met Francis, and he said he 
 was still my master, and I was his slave. He 
 knows of my letters to Emily, and he asked me if 
 a slave could love." 
 
 "He lies; you are no slave!" 
 
 "Would it not be well for me to set out for 
 St. Augustine and find my parents, from whom I 
 was taken so long ago? There I would be free." 
 Smith, like all other English settlers, had a great 
 dread of the Spaniards, and told him not to think 
 of it. 
 
 "Give over all thought of your childhood, my 
 friend. Philip Estevan is dead. Philip Stevens 
 is an Englishman, and lives a new life. You have 
 new friends, new hopes and aspirations, and before 
 many years elapse, peace and order will come out 
 of this turmoil, and then you may bring the sweet 
 English maid to this glorious land to enjoy the 
 home which your own hands have builded. " 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 CROWNING A FOREST EMPEROR. 
 
 Passions wild, and follies vain, 
 Pleasure soon exchanged for pain ; 
 Doubt, and jealousy, and fear, 
 In the magic dance appear. 
 
 —Scott. 
 
 The time had come in the history of the colony 
 when the modern Cincinnatus must quit his ex- 
 plorations to serve the colony. Radcliffe, the nom- 
 inal president, was in confinement on charge of 
 mutiny, and everything was in confusion and dis- 
 order. 
 
 "It is your duty to accept the office," urged Mr. 
 Hunt. "Without you at the head the colony 
 must perish." 
 
 Smith was induced to accept, and at once took 
 hold of matters in earnest. The fort was put in a 
 complete state of defence, the dwellings were re- 
 paired and made comfortable, and, as a vessel was 
 expected to arrive soon from England with sup- 
 plies, an addition was made to the public granary. 
 Saturday was set apart as the day for drilling the 
 163 
 
164 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 men in the exercise of arms, and in a short time all 
 became proficient soldiers. Everything took a 
 new turn, and new life and energy was instilled 
 into the colony. 
 
 The expected vessel from England arrived at a 
 very seasonable time, bringing an addition of sev- 
 enty members, of whom two were at once chosen 
 as members of the council. In the ship also came 
 two women, Mrs. Forest and her maid, Anne 
 Burras, the first Englishwomen ever in Jamestown. 
 
 Newport's ship brought disappointment to Philip 
 Stevens, who expected an answer from his last 
 letter to Emily Gilbert. A sailor friend of the 
 young Spaniard told him that the widow Gilbert 
 and her daughter had suddenly disappeared from 
 their native hills, and there was a rumor that they 
 had gone to London. Philip felt that Emily had 
 forgotten him, and, trying to think no more of 
 her, began to plan a journey to St. Augustine in 
 search of his parents. 
 
 It was quite evident that the officers of the Lon- 
 don company did not understand the first essentials 
 of the South Virginia colony. They invested 
 Newport, the pompous captain, with almost supreme 
 powers, and Smith, although president, found 
 himself subordinate to one who had never been 
 friendly toward him ; but Smith was not one to 
 pine or murmur at ill-usage. He took the captain 
 
CROWNINQ A FOREST EMPEROR. 165 
 
 to his house, where he entertained him as hospitably 
 as he could. In the course of the evening, New- 
 port said: 
 
 "I have come to cement the friendship of our 
 people with the Indians." 
 
 "Pray how will you go about it, captain?" 
 Smith asked. 
 
 " I have brought various presents to bestow on 
 the kingly Powhatan." 
 
 "What are they?" 
 
 '.'Among them are a basin, a ewer, a bed and 
 bedstead, clothes, and a mantle of scarlet velvet." 
 
 Smiling, Smith remarked: 
 
 "Odd gifts enough for an uncivilized savage. 
 What will old Powhatan do with such articles?" 
 
 "I have also brought a glittering crown of gold, 
 which I am directed to place on his head with my 
 own hands." 
 
 At this Smith roared with laughter. 
 
 " Wherefore do you laugh?" demanded Newport 
 angrily. "Is he not a king, and is it not well 
 that he should be crowned?" 
 
 " If he be a king, nature has made him one, and 
 such a piece of mummery as that cannot add in the 
 least to his sense of royalty," replied Smith. 
 
 "I shall obey my instructions," declared New- 
 port. 
 
 "Crowning that savage!" and again Smith 
 
166 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 laughed. " He will think it the most foolish thing 
 the white men ever did. As like as not you will 
 find him wearing the crown with a string about his 
 neck, as it will be too large for his ear." 
 
 Protest and ridicule were alike unavailing. 
 Newport was determined to carry out his instruct- 
 ions; and in this resolution he was supported by all 
 the council, save Smith, whose continued protests 
 angered Newport into saying: 
 
 "Your chief objection to the project is because 
 of your envy. Willingly enough would you un- 
 dertake it, if you could be at the head." 
 
 Stung to the quick, Smith answered: 
 
 "I have no desire to be at the head of any such 
 ridiculous affair." 
 
 " Then it is because you fear to go to Powhatan. " 
 
 "In order to prove how little I fear Powhatan, 
 and how little I care to be at the head of the affair, 
 I will volunteer to go on a visit to Powhatan, with 
 only four men whom I shall choose, and inform him 
 thaf. the presents are ready." 
 
 "I will take you at your word," said Newport, 
 "and you may set out at once." 
 
 As Smith went to select his companions, Philip 
 Stevens was the first whom he saw. 
 
 "Will you go with me?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes," he answered. 
 
 The other three were chosen, and all set off that 
 
CROWNING A FOREST EMPEROR. 167 
 
 same day for Werowocomoco. When the little 
 party reached the residence of the chief, he was 
 absent; but his daughter Pocahontas at once dis- 
 patched messengers for him, taking it upon herself 
 in the mean while to entertain the newly arrived 
 guests. 
 
 Captain Smith and his companions were taken 
 to a beautiful plain where a fire was made, and 
 mats given all to sit upon. Only the forest sur- 
 rounded them, and the sky was above them. The 
 plain was treeless, and the dense wood came up all 
 around it. Pocahontas retired, leaving them with 
 two or three old men. 
 
 " Are we to be left here all night?" Philip asked. 
 "I begin to grow uneasy." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " It looks as if some plot were forming against 
 us." 
 
 Before Smith could answer, the woods were filled 
 with the most hideous yelling and shrieking. 
 
 " We are attacked!" cried Philip, leaping to his 
 feet and seizing his firelock. 
 
 In an instant Captain Smith and the others had 
 seized their guns, swords, and pistols, and laid 
 hold of two old men as if to kill them. Suddenly 
 Pocahontas darted from the wood and ran to the 
 captain, saying: 
 
 "We mean you no harm; it is only a mask 
 
168 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 gotten up to amuse you. I will remain by you 
 and you may kill me if harm is threatened you." 
 
 Pocahontas was the only Indian whom Captain 
 Smith trusted, and he trusted her implicitly. 
 
 "Put up your arms and release the old men," he 
 said. "It is only a mask after the Virigihia fash- 
 ion with which our dear little friend, Pocahontas, 
 would fain amuse us." 
 
 The prisoners were released, and the Englishmen 
 sat down with as much assurance as if they had 
 been at home. Great crowds of men, women, and 
 children now came to watch the scene that was to 
 follow. 
 
 The wild howls and yells continued for a few 
 moments longer, then thirty young women suddenly 
 burst from the wood, their bodies painted in va- 
 rious colors, so that no two were alike. They wore 
 no clothing save skirts, or aprons of green leaves. 
 Their leader had a pair of buck's horns on her 
 head, an otter-skin at her girdle, and another on 
 her arm. At her back she had a quiver of arrows, 
 and in her hand she carried a bow. The next had 
 a sword, a third a club, and a fourth a pot- stick; 
 all carried something. All wore horns of some 
 kind on their heads, and were naked save the small 
 apron of green leaves. They looked like fiends, 
 as, with loud shouts and cries, they rushed from 
 the woods, and, forming a ring about the fire, began 
 
CROWNING A FOREST EMPEROR. 1G9 
 
 singing and dancing in the most fantastic manner 
 imaginable. 
 
 "Did ever man see such a scene?" exclaimed 
 Philip. 
 
 "It is gotten up for our amusement; be not 
 alarmed," Smith answered. 
 
 "Marry! if is for my amusement, they may 
 stop it." 
 
 This improvised ballet lasted for an hour. Then, 
 with a sudden whoop from the leader, they dis- 
 appeared into the wood, and, removing all traces 
 of their masking, returned and invited the white 
 men to their lodge, where they were feasted and 
 further entertained with singing, dancing, and 
 shouting, after which they were conducted to their 
 own lodgings. 
 
 Next day Powhatan came, and Smith waited 
 on the chief. After the usual salutations, he 
 said: 
 
 "I have come to inform you that some presents 
 have been sent to you by our king, and we desire 
 you to come to Jamestown and receive them as 
 well as to see Father Newport. I am also directed 
 to say that, if you will come, we will help you con- 
 clude your revenge upon the Monacans." 
 
 The subtle old chief, though "puffed up with 
 pride at having presents sent him from King 
 James," was too shrewd to venture within the white 
 
170 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 man's fort. After smoking in thoughtful silence 
 for several moments, he answered: 
 
 " If your king has sent me presents, I also am a 
 king, and this is my land. Eight days will I stay 
 and receive them. Your father is to come to me, 
 not I go to him, nor yet to your fort, neither will 
 I bite at such bait. As for the Monacans, I can 
 revenge my own injuries. With regard to any 
 salt water beyond the mountains, the relations you 
 have from my people are false." 
 
 Powhatan knew that the whites were still hope- 
 ful of finding the great South Sea beyond the 
 mountains, and with a stick he drew a map on the 
 ground, representing the vastness of the continent, 
 which Smith did not at that time dream of, but 
 which was more nearly correct than the opinion any 
 white man had yet entertained of the New World. 
 
 Smith was forced to return to Jamestown and 
 inform Newport that the savage monarch preferred 
 to be crowned in his own home, and absolutely 
 refused to come to Jamestown. Newport was very 
 much disappointed, for he had anticipated a grand 
 and imposing ceremony, which he wished the whole 
 colony to witness. However, he was resolved that 
 the affair should be a great one. The presents 
 were sent nearly a hundred miles by water, while 
 Captain Smith, Stevens, and fifty good marksmen 
 proceeded by land as a guard of honor. 
 
CROWNING A FOREST EMPEROR. 171 
 
 The day after the arrival of the boat was fixed 
 by Newport for the coronation. The Indians gazed 
 ill wonder on the white men, and old Powhatan 
 himself had not the remotest idea what they were 
 about. Escorted by the guard of honor, Newport, 
 with the dignity of a nobleman in a comic opera, 
 walked to the old chief's lodge, followed by men 
 carrying the basin, the ewer, and the bedstead; 
 but he would not entrust the crown to other hands, 
 fearing that some one else might have the honor of 
 placing it on the head of the forest monarch. 
 
 With grave demeanor, the old chief all the 
 while stood gazing on the ridiculous scene. The 
 bedstead was set up, a bed placed on it, the basin 
 and ewer given the chief and their uses explained. 
 Then came the robing of the monarch in scarlet 
 velvet. The old chieftain could not understand 
 the cloak, and for a long time would not let it be 
 put on him. Smith was several times on the point 
 of roaring with laughter at the comical figure of the 
 chieftain wearing his robe all awry. 
 
 " I will place the crown on his head, and the 
 ceremony will be complete," said Newport. " Ask 
 him to kneel." 
 
 Smith made known Newport's request to Pow- 
 hatan, who answered: 
 
 " No ; I Will not kneel to any one ; I am a king. " 
 
 "But you are a tall man and my father Newport 
 
172 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 short; he cannot reach your head to place the 
 crown." 
 
 The chief gravely suggested that it might be 
 placed on his foot or hand, as he could not see any 
 special benefit it would be on his head. Not un- 
 derstanding the significance of a crown, it was to 
 him sheer nonsense of which he was growing tired. 
 
 Newport tried to reach up to the head of the 
 chief; but he was too short, and, besides, Powhatan 
 had become suspicious of the thing. Then came 
 the most ridiculous scene of all. Smith, Stevens, 
 Newport, and two more tried to coax the old chief 
 to kneel or stoop a little; but he was as stubborn 
 as a bull and refused to obey. Persuasions and 
 examples were of no avail, and Newport, reeking 
 with perspiration, still wrestled with the uncrowned 
 savage. 
 
 Newport was in despair, and, pausing to rest and 
 wipe the perspiration from his face, he said: 
 
 "Zounds! I do believe we will fail." 
 
 Captain Smith, laughing, answered: 
 
 "Nay, Captain Newport, we have come espe- 
 cially to crown him, and we will not go away with 
 our task unfinished." 
 
 The old chief, believing they were trying to 
 scalp him rather than crown him, stood on his dig- 
 nity, with arms folded, gazing in silent contempt 
 on the scene. 
 
IT WAS THE MOST UNDIGNIFIED CORONATION ON RECORD. 
 
CROWNING A FOREST EMPEROR. 173 
 
 " Can you devise no means by which we can place 
 the crown on his head, Smith?" asked Newport. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "How shall it be done?" 
 
 "You and I are of fair weight. Let us rest 
 upon his shoulder so as to make him stoop, and 
 then our good friend Stevens, who is light and 
 tall, can be lifted up by the doctor and Mr. Forrest 
 and place the crown on his head." 
 
 It was the most undignified coronation ever on 
 record. Philip took the crown, which Newport 
 was at last willing to yield, and while Smith and 
 Newport leaned on the savage's shoulders, so as to 
 force him to stoop, Philip placed the ornament on 
 his head. 
 
 At this moment a pistol was fired announcing 
 the event to the boat, which poured forth a volley 
 in salute. The startled king, believing himself 
 attacked, flung the crown one way and the royal 
 robe another, and gave a war-whoop. For a mo- 
 ment it looked as if the ceremony might have a 
 disastrous ending; but Captain Smith, who was 
 unable to restrain his laughter, explained that the 
 shots were fired in honor of the coronation. 
 
 The chieftain, partially understanding the honors 
 that had been conferred on him, became so generous 
 that he gave to Newport his old shoes, and to the 
 colonists seven or eight bushels of wheat. 
 
174 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Newport seemed satisfied with the impressive 
 ceremony, and set out on a tour, leaving Powhatan 
 wondering what he was to do with his presents. 
 Newport visited the tribe of Indians called the 
 Monacans, but encountered nothing but disappoint- 
 ment and sickness, and soon returned to Jamestown, 
 whither Smith had preceded him, and was busying 
 himself preparing a proper freight of pine and 
 cedar wood and tar and pitch to send to England. 
 His men had become grossly profane, and Smith 
 invented a novel method of curing them. The oaths 
 they swore during the day were recorded against 
 them, and for each oath a can of cold water was 
 poured down the swearer's sleeve. 
 
 Newport's mission this time was to bring back 
 gold and information of the South Sea to the Lon- 
 don Company. Smith knew that there was no 
 gold-dust in the country, and that the South Sea 
 was so far away that they could not hope to reach 
 it in a year's travel ; but he sent instead a freight 
 of lumber, tar, and pitch. 
 
 Knowing, from instructions and orders which had 
 come from England, that Newport had made a 
 misstatement of the colony, Smith wrote the com- 
 pany a long letter, giving an exact statement of 
 affairs. He also advised them, in regard to emi- 
 grants, to send farmers, artisans, and mechanics 
 instead of idle, worthless vagabonds or reprobate 
 
CROWNING A FOREST EMPEROR. 175 
 
 sons of gentlemen who disdained to soil their hands 
 with work. Newport's ship, laden with a valuable 
 cargo from the New World, set sail, and the colo- 
 nists were again left to their own resources. 
 
 Including the last load of emigrants which New- 
 port had brought, there were now two hundred per- 
 sons in the colony. Scarcely any provisions had 
 been made as yet for their subsistence, and a win- 
 ter which promised to be unusually severe was com- 
 ing on. But one course was left, and that was a 
 journey, without delay, to some of the neighboring 
 tribes for supplies. 
 
 Philip Stevens, deeming it necessary that Smith 
 remain in the colony, applied for the leadership of 
 the expedition. 
 
 "No," the captain answered; "you may go, but 
 I will go also. Wherever there is danger, I, as 
 president of the council, should share it, and there 
 is always danger among these heathen tribes." 
 
 Accordingly, with Philip and a small party, he 
 set out on the errand. Arriving among the In- 
 dians, he found that those who, a little while before, 
 had promised to furnish him with grain, now ab- 
 solutely refused; but by training his guns upon 
 them he brought them to their senses, and extorted 
 from them a part of what they had promised. The 
 hardships of these seekers for food seem almost in- 
 credible. They were frequently compelled to sleep 
 
176 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 around fires on the ground, and to shovel away the 
 snow and lie on mats; but they succeeded at last 
 in filling the boat, and Smith returned to James- 
 town to his famishing colony. 
 
 No one on that journey had suffered more than 
 Philip Stevens. The iron constitution of the young 
 man, which had all along defied cold, heat, and ex- 
 posure, yielded to long nights spent on the ground 
 and in the snow, and when they returned he had a 
 deep-seated cough which brought on a fever, and 
 he reached Jamestown unable to sit up in the boat. 
 Dr. Eussel ministered to him, and Mr. Hunt, the 
 minister, and Smith became his constant attendants. 
 Hunt was one of the kindest men of the time, and 
 was just suited to his position. 
 
 He became interested in Philip, and during the 
 long winter evenings, when the convalescent sat 
 in front of the great blazing fire, he would come 
 and talk with him. On one of these occasions, 
 when they were alone, he said: 
 
 " Captain Smith informs me that you are Spanish 
 by birth." 
 
 "I am," he answered. 
 
 " He also told me that your history was a sad one. " 
 
 "It is," Philip answered. "I was born at St. 
 Augustine. " 
 
 "How came you to England?" 
 
 " When but a child, five or six years of age, 
 
CROWNING A FOREST EMPEROR. 177 
 
 Sir Francis Drake sacked our town, and I- was car- 
 ried away." 
 
 "Were your parents slain?" 
 
 "No; for aught I know, they may be living yet 
 at St. Augustine. They had gone on an errand of 
 mercy when Drake came and carried us away." 
 
 "And you alone were captured?" 
 
 "I and my infant brother, but two years old, 
 were all that I know of who were taken from St. 
 Augustine at that time." 
 
 "What became of your brother?" 
 
 "Alas, I know not. We were both taken to 
 England and there apprenticed to different masters. " 
 
 "Do you remember the name of his master?" 
 asked Mr. Hunt, whose interest in the story was 
 on the increase. 
 
 "I believe it was Eobinson." 
 
 "Eobinson; was it John Eobinson?" 
 
 "That was surely the name." 
 
 "Was not a wooden chest captured at the same 
 time?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I know something of your brother." 
 
 " Then, please God, tell me, as I am all anxiety 
 to know, for I have sought him many years in 
 vain." 
 
 "John Eobinson is a Puritan minister. He had 
 
 a boy of Spanish or French birth " 
 
 12 
 
178 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "Our mother was a French woman, and our 
 father a Spaniard," interrupted Stevens. "Go on, 
 pray!" 
 
 "Then I am sure I am correct. Mr. Eobinson 
 has the chest, and in it ss a manuscript written by 
 your father." 
 
 " What does it contain?" 
 
 "I only know that your father was a native of 
 Cuba and designed for a priest, but that he married 
 a Huguenot and lived at St. Augustine. I did 
 not read all the manuscript." 
 
 "But my brother; where is he?" 
 
 "With John Eobinson." 
 
 "Where is John Eobinson? I have searched 
 England all over for him." 
 
 "He was banished with other Puritans to Hol- 
 land, and now lives at Leyden. Eobinson is a 
 just man, living in the fear of the Lord, and he 
 brought up your brother Mathew in the way he 
 should go." 
 
 " When did you see my brother? Was he 
 content?" 
 
 "It has been many years since I saw him; but 
 then he was a happy, contented boy." 
 
 "He is a Puritan?" 
 
 "Beyond a doubt." 
 
 "Both of us Protestants, and our parents Cath- 
 olics! Can we all enter the same heaven?" 
 
CROWNING A FOREST EMPEROR. 179 
 
 " There is but one heaven, Philip, and the right- 
 eous Catholic as well as the godly Protestant will 
 be there. Besides, the history left by your father 
 shows that your mother was a Protestant." 
 
 The invalid silently gazed into the blazing fire, 
 while his mind went back into the dim past, re- 
 calling the scenes of his happy, but almost for- 
 gotten childhqod. 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 THE TRAITORS. 
 
 What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted? 
 Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just ; 
 And he but naked, though locked up in steel, 
 Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 A few days after the events narrated in our 
 last chapter Captain Smith called hpon Philip 
 Stevens and inquired after his health. 
 
 "I am better," he answered, "and soon I shall 
 be well. Will you sit with me, I wish to talk?" 
 
 "Certainly, Philip." 
 
 " I have learned the whereabouts of my brother." 
 
 "How did you gain the information in this wil- 
 derness?" 
 
 "Mr. Hunt says he is in Holland." Then 
 Philip narrated what Mr. Hunt had told him about 
 his lost brother. 
 
 " It is a marvellous story, and sounds like ro- 
 mance," said Smith, at the conclusion. 
 
 "Since I have been ill, I have felt rny utter 
 loneliness in the world more than ever before. I 
 180 
 
THE TRAITORS. 181 
 
 long to find some of my own kin, and I believe I 
 will go and seek my brother, and then with him 
 go in search of our parents." 
 
 Smith sat with his head bowed in his hands, 
 gazing into the sparkling fire. His great heart 
 throbbed with sympathy for this young man ; but 
 he felt his inability to advise him. Was it possible 
 that, after so many years of separation, the family 
 could be reunited? After a long silence, he 
 asked : 
 
 "Will you search for Emily Gilbert, also?" 
 
 "I shall, though with little hope of finding her. 
 If not dead, Emily has surely forgotten me?" 
 
 Captain Smith sighed. He had had some bitter 
 love experiences in his own romantic career, and 
 had come to regard the opposite sex as fickle. No 
 doubt the fair Emily had found another lover. In 
 all his experience among women, Smith had found 
 but one heart true to him, and as he gazed into 
 the fire, he wove bright dreams in which a little 
 olive-cheeked maiden who had saved his life was 
 most conspicuous. Alas, that noble but unfortu- 
 nate man was doomed to disappointment from youth 
 to death ; he was destined to be robbed of his love, 
 as he had been of honor and fortune. 
 
 While they sat gazing silently into the fire, 
 each dreaming a bright dream, pleasant for the 
 time being, though neither destined to realize the 
 
182 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 fulfillment of it, a pair of baleful eyes hatched the 
 two through the narrow window. The fires of 
 hate gleamed from those orbs, and the lips uttered, 
 in a scarce audible whisper: 
 
 "My slave! He is yet my slave. I will kill 
 them both, or have my revenge on the slave that 
 defied me." 
 
 It was Francis who uttered the threat, and then 
 turned about and left the cabin so noiselessly that 
 even the sharp ear of John Smith failed to catch 
 his footfall. He went to another house, in which 
 were assembled Adam and a relative of Francis of 
 the same name, with a Swede and some Poles, 
 whom the historians of the time designate as the 
 Dutchmen. These men were the chronic grum- 
 blers — the communists and anarchists of the Col- 
 ony — constantly breeding dissension, and causing 
 no end of trouble. 
 
 "They are planning to return to England," said 
 Francis, on rejoining the Dutchmen. "But my 
 slave shall not escape me!" 
 
 One of the Dutchmen proposed that by the aid 
 of the Indians they secure the destruction of Smith, 
 Stevens, Mr. Hunt, and all the friends of the ruler 
 of the colony. In order to fire the hate of every 
 one against Smith, and secure his destruction, 
 Francis added: 
 
 " Smith is a cruel master ! He makes us labor, 
 
THE TRAITORS. 
 
 183 
 
 or starve, and when once all these are disposed of, 
 we can live at our ease with the red men of Vir- 
 ginia." 
 
 The plan exactly suited the unambitious natures 
 of the Dutchmen, and they consented to the scheme. 
 
 "These men were the chronic grumblers of the colony." 
 
 As the wind roared without and shook the frail 
 building to its foundation, they gathered about 
 their ringleader and proceeded to lay a plot which 
 would have put the arch enemy of mankind to 
 shame. 
 
184 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Philip Stevens, having a vigorous constitution, 
 unimpaired by dissipation, recovered rapidly. 
 About this time the first marriage in Virginia was 
 celebrated. Philip was strong enough to be a 
 witness to the ceremony. John Laydon, a laborer 
 who had been paying his addresses to Anne Burras, 
 Mrs. Foster's maid, was accepted by her, and Mr. 
 Hunt solemnized the marriage in the little church. 
 The entire colony turned out to witness it, and 
 Captain Smith made the event a holiday. 
 
 Corn had grown scarce once more, and Smith 
 determined to surprise Powhatan and force him 
 to furnish them with provisions. Both Captain 
 Winne and Mr. Scrivener opposed his plan; but 
 Smith declared that no amount of persuasion could 
 induce him to starve. He went to Philip, now 
 fully recovered, and asked if he would accompany 
 them. 
 
 "Wherever you go, captain, I will follow," 
 was the answer. 
 
 While preparations were being made for an ex- 
 pedition to Powhatan, a messenger came from that 
 chieftain, saying he would load the Englishman's 
 ship with corn if Smith would send him some men 
 to build him a house, such as the English lived 
 in, give him a grindstone, fifty swords, some guns, 
 a cock and a hen, together with much copper and 
 beads. Unwilling to neglect such a golden oppor- 
 
THE TRAITORS. 185 
 
 tunity, Smith sent Francis with four " Dutch car- 
 penters " to construct the house. Had he dreamed 
 of the conspiracy these men were hatching, he 
 would have suffered the loss of his right arm 
 sooner than have sent them to Powhatan. 
 
 With Philip, Captain Waldo, and forty-six men, 
 Smith set out in a pinnace and two barges up the 
 James River for Werowocomoco. Smith took no 
 one with him save volunteers, for he intuitively 
 felt that the expedition would be one of danger. 
 Mr. Scrivener was left as his deputy at Jamestown, 
 and Smith took with him Lieutenant Pierce, a 
 brother of the Earl of Northumberland, also 
 Francis West, a brother of Lord De la Ware. 
 
 The first night, the company halted at Waras- 
 koyack, where the king, who was very kind to 
 them, tried to dissuade them from going to Pow- 
 hatan. 
 
 "Captain Smith, you shall find Powhatan to use 
 you kindly," argued the chief; "but trust him 
 not, and be sure he have no opportunity to seize 
 your arms, for he hath sent for you only to cut 
 your throats." 
 
 This startling announcement would have made 
 one less bold than Smith quail ; but he had too often 
 faced death to be deterred now. He thanked the 
 chief for his advice and assured him that he would 
 be more than a match for Powhatan. He asked for 
 
186 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 a couple of guides to Chawonock, as lie intended 
 sending messengers to the country. The Indian 
 chief gladly furnished the two guides, and Smith 
 sent Sicklemore to the country to make search for 
 the lost colony of Sir Walter Ealeigh. The expe- 
 dition failed in its purpose. Next night, Smith 
 lodged at Kecoughton, where they were forced to 
 remain for six or seven weeks on account of the 
 severe wind and rain. On their departure, they 
 found the air darkened with wild fowls, ducks, 
 geese, plovers, and snipes, and the water was 
 covered with them. It is said that two of his men 
 at three shots killed one hundred and forty-eight. 
 
 It was the 12th of January, 1609, when Cap- 
 tain Smith and his company arrived at Werowo- 
 comoco. The river was frozen half a mile from 
 the shore, and they broke the ice with the barge, 
 as far as they could, to get nearer the land, when 
 the ebbing of the tide left the boat aground among 
 the oozing shoals. Eather than lie there for an 
 other tide and be frozen, he encouraged his com- 
 panions to follow him, and jumped into the water, 
 which came to his waist. Mr. Eussel, who had 
 been suffering from cold and fevers, was so chilled 
 by the water that he required the aid of several to 
 bring him ashore. 
 
 They sought shelter in the nearest houses that 
 night, and next morning visited Powhatan, who 
 
THE TRAITORS. 187 
 
 received them with his usual friendliness and feasted 
 them; but as soon as they had finished, he turned 
 to Captain Smith and asked: 
 
 "When will you be gone?" 
 
 Smith was amazed at this question. 
 
 " I will go when I have the corn you promised 
 me," he answered. 
 
 " I promised you none, yet for forty swords I 
 will give you forty baskets of corn." 
 
 Smith, somewhat startled at this subtle denial 
 of the old chief, turned to the messengers who had 
 brought him the proposition of Powhatan, and re- 
 plied : 
 
 " There are the very men who brought me your 
 message and conditions to Jamestown. How 
 chances it that you have become so forgetful?" 
 
 To this Powhatan made no answer, but after a 
 few moments' silence asked: 
 
 "What commodities have you brought?" 
 
 "Beads and copper," Smith answered. 
 
 "I want swords and guns!" growled the chief . 
 " A basket of corn is worth more than a basket of 
 copper." 
 
 "Powhatan, I have many ways by which I can 
 procure my provisions; yet, believing in your 
 promises to supply our wants, I come to you," re- 
 turned Smith angrily. "I have no swords nor 
 guns to spare; but what I have will keep me from 
 
188 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 want. However, it is my desire to remain on 
 friendly terms with you." 
 
 Powhatan listened attentively to the very mean- 
 ing remarks of Captain Smith, and said: 
 
 "I and my country will furnish you all we can 
 spare, which you shall have in a day or two; but 
 I wish you would lay aside your weapons, for my 
 people are afraid you have come to invade the 
 country." 
 
 Smith was too shrewd to do as requested, and 
 his men kept the matches in their guns lighted. 
 
 While awaiting the supplies, Francis and the 
 Dutchmen were planning with Powhatan for the 
 destruction of Smith and the colony. It is doubt- 
 ful if Powhatan would have proved so treacherous 
 had he not been instigated by the hate of Francis, 
 who would have moved heaven and earth to be 
 avenged on Stevens. Smith sent William More 
 to play the spy on the chief ; but he turned traitor 
 to Smith, and sent Francis to Jamestown to get 
 swords and guns for the Indians, representing that 
 Smith had sent for them. In this manner guns 
 and swords were obtained. 
 
 Next day, when Smith, Stevens, and others 
 went to Powhatan to trade, they, as was their 
 custom, took their guns with them. This greatly 
 annoyed the chief, who thought that as they were 
 all good friends it would be best to visit without 
 
THE TRAITORS. 189 
 
 arms, as the very sight of them made his people 
 sick. 
 
 " Think you that I am so simple as not to know 
 that it is better to eat good meat, lie well, sleep 
 quietly with my women and children, laugh and 
 be merry with you, have copper, hatchets, or 
 whatever I want, being your friend," argued the 
 chief, "than be forced to fly from all, to lie cold 
 in the woods, feed on acorns, roots, and such trash, 
 and be so hunted by you that I can neither rest, 
 eat, or sleep? My tired men must watch me, and if 
 a twig but break, every one crieth, 'There com- 
 eth Captain Smith,' and thus with miserable fear 
 I end my miserable life, leaving my pleasures to 
 such youths as you." 
 
 "Your fears are wholly groundless," Captain 
 Smith answered. "Had we intended you any 
 hurt, we could have effected it long ere this. Your 
 people came to Jamestown, carried their bows and 
 arrows, and were entertained without objection ; we 
 wear our arms, and our health depends on keeping 
 them near us. If you refuse to let us have provi- 
 sions, we can find them." 
 
 " Captain Smith, I never treated any chief so 
 kindly as yourself, and yet from you I receive the 
 least kindness of any. Captain Newport gave me 
 swords, copper, clothes, a bed, towels, or what I 
 desired, ever taking what I offered him, and would 
 
190 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 send away his guns when I entreated him. Cap- 
 tain Newport you call father, and so you call me; 
 but I see that, in spite of us both, you will do 
 what you list, and we must both seek to content 
 you. If you intend so friendly as you say, send 
 hence your arms, that I may believe you, for the 
 love I bear you doth cause me thus nakedly to 
 forget myself." 
 
 "Powhatan," said Smith loftily, "you must 
 know as I have but one God, I honor but one king, 
 and I live not here as your subject but as your 
 friend, to please you with what I can. By the 
 gifts you bestow on me, you gain more than by 
 trade; yet would you visit me as I do you, you 
 should know it is not our custom to sell courtesies 
 as a vendible commodity. Bring all your country- 
 men with you as your guard; I will not dislike it 
 as being over-zealous ; but, to content you, to-mor- 
 row I will leave my arms and trust to your promise. 
 I call you father, indeed, and as a father you will 
 see I love you ; but the small care you have of 
 such a child caused my men to persuade me to look 
 to myself." 
 
 Next day Smith got some savages to break the 
 ice and assist in getting the boat in nearer to the 
 shore; but when he came to Powhatan's lodge, the 
 chief, with his baggage, women, and children, some 
 two or three, were gone. Smith was assured that 
 
THE TRAITORS. 191 
 
 Powhatan was not gone far and would soon return. 
 While in a house talking with Stevens in regard to 
 the strange disappearance of the chief, the hut was 
 suddenly surrounded by warriors. 
 
 " They intend to murder us!" whispered Stevens. 
 
 There was no time left for thought; nothing but 
 action could save them from danger. They flour- 
 ished their swords in the air, and, with cocked 
 pistols, inspired such terror in the dusky crowd 
 that they suddenly gave way, and made a free 
 passage for them through the door. His men, 
 hearing the commotion, reached the shore at once, 
 and, putting himself at their head, Smith marched 
 back to the village, demanding an explanation of 
 Powhatan's conduct. 
 
 The chief returned and made an excuse which 
 Smith pretended to believe, and set his men to 
 loading the boats with what corn he already had 
 managed to purchase. They worked until dark, 
 and then, as the tide went out and left their boats 
 in the mud, they returned to shore to spend tie 
 night. 
 
 "Do you think we are in danger of treachery?" 
 Philip asked. 
 
 "Yes," Smith answered, and he ordered the men 
 to keep their matches burning. 
 
 The night was quite dark, and as the Englishmen 
 grouped together in the shed set apart for them, 
 
192 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 awaiting in breathless suspense for dawn, the quick 
 ear of the gallant captain heard a light footfall. 
 So light was it, that he was not quite sure he was 
 not mistaken. A small hand touched his, sending 
 a thrill through his frame. 
 
 " Who are you?" 
 
 "Pocahontas," was the whispered response. 
 
 "Why have you come here?" 
 
 " To warn you," she answered. "Powhatan in- 
 tends to give a great feast, and at it you are to be 
 surprised and killed. Leave at once!" she pleaded, 
 clinging fondly to Smith and weeping bitterly. 
 
 " I thank you, little maid, and your warning will 
 save us. Here are some beads and presents, such 
 as you delight in." 
 
 "No, no, no!" she pleaded with tears and sobs. 
 "I dare not be seen with any of them, for should 
 Powhatan suspect that I warned you, he would 
 kill me." Then, embracing the man she loved 
 so madly, the little maiden disappeared in the 
 darkness. 
 
 Her warning was a timely one, for the feast of 
 death was prepared and the intended victims were 
 invited; but when the leader of the party of savages 
 found those matches in those guns burning, he said: 
 
 "Will you put out those matches? The smoke 
 of them makes us sick. Sit down and eat and 
 make merry." 
 
THE TRAITORS. 193 
 
 To this, Smith replied: 
 
 "It is a custom that the Englishmen have of 
 making the host taste of the food before the guests 
 eat. You must eat of each dish." There was no 
 mistaking the threatening manner of the white 
 man, and the savages were forced to eat of every 
 dish, so as to assure them they were not poisoned. 
 
 Then, before he began the feast, he sent a de- 
 fiant message to Powhatan to come on and attack 
 them, and he drove away the men. Of course the 
 wily chief was too shrewd to attempt an attack 
 under these circumstances, and the Englishmen 
 passed the night in peace. 
 
 Next day, with his men and boats, Smith set 
 out for Pamunkee, where, at first, they were all en- 
 tertained by Opechancanough. On the day they 
 were to begin trading, however, Smith sent Stevens, 
 Pierce, and Mr. West with a dozen men to Ope- 
 chancanough' s house, and, to their surprise, that 
 chief was gone. Philip Stevens went to Smith 
 and reported the fact to him, so he repaired in 
 person to the house, where only a lame boy was 
 found. 
 
 "I will burn the houses of Opechancanough, if 
 he does not come and trade with us as he prom- 
 ised," declared Smith to some savages who lingered 
 about the king's house. A swift-footed messenger 
 bore the message to Opechancanough, and he re- 
 13 
 
194 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 turned, followed by about fifty of his warriors 
 witb bows and arrows. 
 
 "Why have you not brought corn with you?" 
 asked Smith. 
 
 Knowing full well that he had not kept faith 
 with the whites, Opeehancanough answered: 
 
 "We have no corn to spare." 
 
 Smith curbed his wrath and, with a ringing 
 earnestness, said: 
 
 "Opeehancanough, the great love- you profess 
 with your tongue seems mere deceit by your act- 
 ions. Last year you freighted our ship; but now 
 you have invited us to starve with hunger. You 
 know my want, and I know your plenty, of which, 
 by some means, I must have part! Kemember, it 
 is fit for kings to keep their promise. Here are 
 my commodities, whereof take your choice; the 
 rest I will proportion fit bargains for your people. " 
 
 Opeehancanough seemed satisfied with his prop- 
 osition and said: 
 
 " My brother talks well, and to-morrow I will 
 come better provided to trade with him." 
 
 As Captain Smith and Stevens went toward the 
 barges, the latter asked: 
 
 "Captain, do you have faith in his sincerity?" 
 
 "But little," Smith answered. "He is a cun- 
 ning knave." 
 
 "Pocahontas once told me of him. It seems 
 
THE TRAITORS. 195 
 
 there is a legend that Opechancanough is not a 
 Virginian, but a Mexican. He came from that far- 
 off country of Montezuma, and has gained a wonder- 
 ful power in Virginia, so that he is next to Pow- 
 hatan." 
 
 "He has the cunning of a dozen fiends," an- 
 swered Smith. 
 
 Next day Smith and his devoted little band of 
 fifteen, including Philip, whom he ever kept at 
 his side in time of danger, marched up to the 
 king's house, where they found four or five men 
 newly arrived with great baskets. Not long after 
 Opechancanough came with a pleasant smile. 
 
 "Come into my house," be said. "It is not 
 well that we should talk in open air." 
 
 Smith, Stevens, and three other men entered the 
 house, and were engaged in conversation with the 
 chief about trading for corn, when suddenly Mr. 
 Eussel, who had been left without as a guard, 
 rushed in, crying: 
 
 "We are betrayed!" 
 
 Drawing a pistol, Smith leaped to the door. 
 The sight which met his gaze was enough to alarm 
 even him. Seven hundred well-armed savages had 
 surrounded the house, and the fields about seemed 
 alive with black heads. The Indian chief guessed 
 what was the trouble and made an effort to leave 
 the house; but Smith pushed him back, saying: 
 
196 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "You cannot go yet." 
 
 "Surely, we shall be slain," cried Eussel, wring- 
 ing his hands with dread. Realizing that a panic 
 was likely to result among his men, Smith, in a 
 voice as clear as if only giving directions to fell 
 trees, said: 
 
 "Worthy countrymen, were the mischiefs of 
 my seeming friends no more than the dangers of 
 these enemies, I little care, were these as many 
 more, did you but do as I. But this is our tor- 
 ment: that if I escape them, our malicious coun- 
 cil, with their open-mouthed minions, will make 
 me such a peace-breaker (in their opinions in Eng- 
 land) as will break my neck. I wish those were 
 here who make these savages seem saints, and me 
 an oppressor; but this is the most of all, wherein 
 I pray you aid me with your opinions. Should we 
 begin with them and surprise the king, we cannot 
 keep him and defend ourselves. If we each should 
 kill our man and so proceed with all in the house, 
 the rest will fly; then we shall get no more than 
 the bodies we have slain, and so starve for want of 
 victuals. Their fury is our least danger, for, as 
 you well know, I was alone and assaulted by 
 three hundred of them, yet, by the help of God, 
 my life was spared. We are but sixteen, and they 
 seven hundred, and assure yourselves God will so 
 assist us, that, if you but discharge your pieces, the 
 
THE TRAITORS. 197 
 
 very smoke will be sufficient to affright them. 
 Let us fight like men and not die like sheep, for 
 by that means God hath oft delivered me, and so I 
 trust will now. But first I will deal with them, 
 to bring it to pass that we may fight for something, 
 and draw them to it by conditions. If you like 
 this notion, promise me to be valiant." 
 
 What daring plan Smith had in mind no one 
 was able to tell; but it was bold, desperate, and 
 promised success. Philip Stevens spoke first. 
 
 "We will stay with you," he answered, "and 
 abide by any plan you may suggest." 
 
 All the while Opechancanough had been standing 
 like one lost in a maze of doubt and wonder, un- 
 able to understand a word the Englishmen were 
 saying. Smith turned on the cowering chief and 
 said: 
 
 "I see, Opechancanough, your plot to murder 
 me; but I fear it not. As your men and mine 
 have done no harm but by your directions, take 
 therefore your arms, you see mine. My body shall 
 be as naked as yours. The island in the river is a 
 fit place, if you be contented ; there we will fight, 
 and the survivor shall be lord and master over all 
 our men. If you have not enough men, take time 
 to fetch more, and bring what number you will, so 
 every one has a basket of corn, against which I 
 will stake the value in copper. You see I have 
 
198 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 but fifteen men, and the game at which you and 
 I play is, the conqueror takes all." * 
 
 This open challenge amazed and alarmed the 
 chief, and he began to protest against having any 
 hostile intentions toward the whites. 
 
 " If you will come with me, I have a great pres- 
 ent for you," said the chief, trying to induce Smith 
 to come out where his warriors waited to slay him. 
 
 "Where is your present?" asked Smith. 
 
 " Under those trees," said the Indian. 
 
 Turning to More, Smith commanded: 
 
 " Do you go and see what sort of a trap is there." 
 
 "ISTo, no; I will surely be slain!" said More, 
 with a cowardly whine. 
 
 "I will go, captain," put in Philip Stevens, 
 and he went to the door to find three hundred war- 
 riors with bows and arrows ready to shoot Smith. 
 
 "Come back!" commanded Smith as soon as 
 Philip reached the door. 
 
 Philip returned. The eyes of Smith sparkled 
 with a deadly fire, and his hands seemed clutching 
 for the throat of the savage. In a voice of thunder 
 he issued his commands: 
 
 *The conversations given in this chapter are taken 
 verbatim as reported by Captain Smith. Though many 
 sentences seem awkward and ungrammatical, a verbatim 
 quotation will give the reader a better idea of the time, 
 than if the same thoughts were expressed in more modern 
 English. 
 
WILD SCENE OF CONFUSION FOLLOWED. 
 
THE TRAITORS. 199 
 
 "Lieutenant Pierce, Philip Stevens, and Mr. 
 West, make good the house! Mr. Powel, guard 
 the door!" 
 
 Each man sprang to his appointed post, and then 
 Captain Smith leaped boldly at the king, struck 
 him on the chest, and, seizing his long scalp lock, 
 by one tremendous jerk brought him to his knees. 
 The wildest scene of confusion followed. The 
 Indians in the house gave utterance to cries of dis- 
 may, and all in sight tumbled over each other to 
 get away. Smith, having almost pounded the breath 
 out of Opechancanough, jammed him up against 
 the wall and placed the muzzle of his pistol to his 
 breast. The dusky monarch, believing his last 
 hour had come, closed his eyes. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE GLASS-HOUSE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths ; 
 Our bruised arms hung up for ornaments ; 
 Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, 
 Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. 
 Grim-visag'd war hath smoothed his wrinkled front. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 Captain John Smith never struck with a gloved 
 hand. When a blow became necessary, be dealt 
 it with full force and strength that was sure to 
 bring down his antagonist. He learned early in 
 life that the secret of a successful combat was un- 
 hesitating, instantaneous action. Consequently 
 his attack on Opechancanough was so sudden and 
 unexpected, that before the king knew it he was 
 powerless in his grasp. Winding the long hair of 
 the chief about his left hand, and clutching his 
 pistol in his right, he dragged the trembling king 
 from the lodge into the open air, in plain view of 
 his people, where he made him surrender his vam- 
 brace, bow, and arrows. The Indians, amazed 
 200 
 
THE GLASS-HOUSE CONSPIRACY. 201 
 
 and alarmed that one would dare use their king 
 in such a manner, stood paralyzed with fear, and 
 dared not offer to rescue him. 
 
 "Throw down your bows and weapons, and 
 come here with empty hands," commanded Smith. 
 
 Fully three hundred trembling, unarmed wretches 
 crowded about this single man, who seemed to 
 possess such wonderful magnetic influence, and 
 listened while he, still holding their ■ king by the 
 hair of the head, said: 
 
 " I see the great desire you have to kill me, and 
 my long sufferings of your injuries hath emboldened 
 me to this presumption. The reason I have borne 
 your insolence is the promise I made you (before 
 the God I serve) to be your friend, till you give 
 me just cause to be your enemy. If I keep my 
 vow, my God will keep me; you cannot hurt me; 
 but if I break it, He will destroy me. If you 
 shoot but one arrow, or shed but one drop of blood 
 of any of my men, or steal the least of their beads 
 or copper, I spurn you here with my foot, you 
 shall see I will not cease revenge (if once I begin) 
 so long as I can find one of your nation that will 
 not deny the name of Pamunk. I am not now at 
 Eassaweak, half drowned with mire, where you 
 took me prisoner; yet then, for your keeping your 
 promise and your good usage and saving my life, 
 I so affect you, that your denials of treachery do 
 
202 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 half persuade me to mistake myself; but if I be 
 the mark you aim at, here I am; shoot, he that 
 dare. You promised to freight my ship before I 
 departed, and so you shall, or I will load her with 
 your dead carcasses; yet, if as friends you will 
 come and trade, I once more promise not to trouble 
 you, except you give me the first occasion, and 
 your king shall be free and be my friend, for I am 
 not come to hurt any of you." 
 
 Upon this the Indians threw away their weapons, 
 and, crowding about Captain Smith, made great 
 pretensions of friendship. Their love however, 
 was only assumed, for that night, while Smith slept 
 in a lodge, about three hundred of them, armed 
 with clubs and English swords, made an attempt to 
 assassinate him. Philip Stevens and Powel, who 
 were on guard, woke Smith, and they charged the 
 Indians with their swords with such fury that they 
 tumbled over each other in their haste to escape. 
 Shortly after, Opechancanough came to apologize 
 for the disturbance of his guests, and assure Smith 
 of his love and friendship, all of which Smith pre- 
 tended to believe, though not for a single moment 
 relaxing his watchful vigilance. Smith had no 
 more trouble with Opechancanough, who had a 
 wholesome dread of the man who had come so 
 nearly jerking his head from his shoulders. 
 
 While Smith was pursuing his journey among 
 
THE GLASS-HOUSE CONSPIRACY. 203 
 
 other neighboring tribes in quest of supplies, the 
 folly of the men at Jamestown caused a painful 
 accident which threw a great gloom over all the 
 colonists. Mr. Scrivener, in charge of the settle- 
 ment -during Smith's absence, took it into his 
 head to pay a visit to the Isle of Hogs, a small 
 island in the bay, and took with him Captain 
 Waldo, Anthony Gosnold, and eight others. It 
 was very cold weather and the wind was exceed- 
 ingly high. By some blundering in the manage- 
 ment of the boat, it was suddenly swamped, and 
 every soul on board was drowned. Some Indians 
 who were near witnessed the catastrophe and used 
 their utmost exertions to save the unfortunate men 
 and recover the bodies. For some time the colo- 
 nists could not believe the fearful truth; but before 
 long the bodies of their friends were brought to 
 them, and they could doubt no more. A trusty 
 messenger was dispatched by Mr. Hunt to Powha- 
 tan's camp to find Smith; but he was gone, and 
 the messenger, arriving late, was compelled to re- 
 main over night, before resuming his journey. Pow- 
 hatan, smarting under the insult of Smith, and 
 chagrined at being outwitted by the Englishmen, 
 determined to kill the messenger; but Pocahontas, 
 always gentle and kind to the race of the man whom 
 she loved, hearing her father's terrible plot, re- 
 solved that, come what might, she would rescue 
 
204 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 the Englishman, and once more she interposed her 
 angelic influence. 
 
 During the stillness of the night, and before 
 the plotters could get ready their instruments of 
 death, this daring little maiden crept to- where 
 the messenger slept, and, stooping over him, whis- 
 pered one of the few English words she had learned: 
 
 "Come!" 
 
 The messenger, roused by the word, compre 
 hended everything, and silently rose to his feet. 
 There was no need of further explanation, for the 
 presence of Pocahontas and her manner indicated 
 danger, and there was not a man in all the colony 
 who would not have trusted his life to her. She 
 led him to the outskirts of the Indian town, and 
 bade him go and warn Captain Smith that her father 
 was preparing to make war against the whites in 
 general, and himself in particular. For three days 
 the messenger wandered about in the woods, and 
 finally found Smith and his party, to whom he com- 
 municated the sad news of their loss at Jamestown, 
 and also Powhatan's intentions. 
 
 " So the treacherous old scoundrel contemplates 
 war," said Smith. "Very well, I shall lay him 
 by the heels, and so quickly, too, that he will have 
 no chance to escape." 
 
 With his celerity of action, he made a backward 
 move to Werowocomoco, determined to seize the 
 
THE GLASS-HOUSE CONSPIRACY. 205 
 
 chief and bear him prisoner to Jamestown ; but, 
 quick as were his movements, Francis and the 
 treacherous Dutchmen were ahead of him. Pow- 
 hatan was warned, and he and his people were gone 
 when they arrived, and not a grain of corn or 
 ounce of meat could be found. 
 
 Chagrined and disappointed, Smith resumed his 
 voyage down the river to Jamestown where things 
 had gone bad enough. A great part of the need- 
 ful implements of labor, together with guns, pikes, 
 and swords, had been stolen during his absence; 
 the provisions had not been properly cared for, and 
 had been suffered to rot, decay, and become infested 
 with vermine. A disposition to discord and an- 
 archy seemed to be making rapid headway. Smith 
 set himself to work to restore things to proper 
 order. He saw that when one was busily employed 
 he had no time to brood over his misfortunes, so 
 he kept the men active in one way or another. 
 
 Despite all they could do to prevent it, thefts 
 were almost daily practised. 
 
 "Captain Smith," said Stevens one day, "I be- 
 lieve it is Francis and the Dutchmen who are steal - 
 . ing from us." 
 
 "Why should they?" asked Smith. 
 
 " They think they can make more by supporting 
 the Virginians, than remaining loyal to the Eng- 
 lish. .Scrutinize matters closely and you will 
 
206 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 soon be able to ascertain where the stolen articles 
 go." 
 
 Francis was at the fort; but two of the Dutch- 
 men were still at Powhatan's to build his house. 
 Smith said: 
 
 "Watch Francis, and, if he is found stealing, 
 inform me. " 
 
 The result was that Stevens, by careful observa- 
 tion, discovered Francis take three swords and a 
 gun from the fort and carry them to the two Dutch- 
 men in the wood, who in turn delivered them over 
 to some Indians. Philip made no effort to prevent 
 them, but reported to Smith. The captain in a 
 rage determined to seize Francis and hang him; 
 but he escaped to Powhatan, where his relatives 
 were, and they proceeded to devise some plan for 
 the destruction of both Smith and Stevens. 
 
 About a mile from Jamestown there was a little 
 hut in the forest call d the glass-house, from its hav- 
 ing been used for the manufacture of glass, which 
 the colonists had attempted. 
 
 Francis returned to the neighborhood of James- 
 town disguised as an Indian, with a wheel-lock 
 gun to shoot either Smith or Stevens. 
 
 One day, as Stevens was going toward the glass- 
 house, he saw an Indian with a gun. Taking the 
 spanner from his belt, the Indian wound up the 
 lock so dexterously that Stevens was quite sure he 
 
THE GLASS-HOUSE CONSPIRACY. 207 
 
 was no savage, though dressed and painted like 
 one. 
 
 Philip was armed only with his sword, and hes- 
 itated whether to approach the savage or not. The 
 fellow finally disappeared among some bushes. 
 There was something suspicious about his move- 
 ments, and Stevens started to go to the fort; but the 
 Indian had anticipated his design and, running 
 throiigh the wood, headed him off, so that, as he was 
 going through the forest, he was startled by seeing 
 the barrel of a gun suddenly thrust from the bushes 
 and levelled at his breast. Before he had time to 
 retreat, the trigger was pulled with a snap, and the 
 whirring of the wheel was plainly heard ; but the 
 iron pyrites failed to emit the fatal sparks to fire 
 the gun, and Stevens' life was saved. The wheel- 
 lock was a new invention and not so sure as the 
 old matchlock, for frequently the wheel spun 
 down without exploding the powder. 
 
 Philip, drawing his sword, leaped toward the 
 pretended Indian, and Francis fled, but not until 
 Stevens had fully identified him. Stevens hast- 
 ened back to the fort and told Captain Smith of his 
 discovery. 
 
 "The villain shall be seized and hung!" cried 
 Smith impetuously. 
 
 He immediately summoned twenty men and, 
 placing ten under Philip, sent them around to the 
 
208 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 rear of the glass-house to intercept Francis should 
 he escape Smith, who went direct to the place. 
 Stevens with his ten soldiers went to the wood, and 
 soon came in sight of Francis as he was running 
 away. 
 
 "Hold! " cried Stevens, raising his firelock and 
 taking aim at the villain. His companions also 
 covered him, and Francis, being a coward by nat- 
 ure, dared not fly, lest he should be riddled with 
 bullets. 
 
 "Don't kill me, good Philip!" he plead. "I 
 am your dearest friend, and truly there is nothing 
 I would not do for you." 
 
 "Advance!" commanded Philip, still keeping 
 him covered with his gun. " Lay down your mus- 
 ket!" 
 
 Francis did so, and was hurried back to James- 
 town, where he told Captain Winne a story of how 
 he had been detained by the Indians and made to 
 masquerade as one of them, in order to spy on his 
 friends, and how he intended to warn them all in 
 due time; and Captain Winne was so foolish as to 
 believe him. 
 
 Meanwhile, Smith and his party arriving at the 
 glass-house, and not finding the spy, returned to 
 Jamestown. Smith followed some distance after 
 his men, absorbed in plans to free the little colony 
 from its unhappy dilemma. As he walked on 
 
THE GLASS-HOUSE CONSPIRACY. 209 
 
 alone, a gigantic Indian placed himself directly in 
 front of his path challenging his further advance. 
 At a glance Smith recognized him as the king 
 of Paspahegh, a savage noted all over the country 
 for his strength, activity, and courage. To this 
 king had been intrusted the plan of the ambush 
 into which Captain Smith had fallen. He had been 
 selected by Francis on account of his wonderful 
 size, strength, and powers. 
 
 "The white chief goes in quest of game?" said 
 the Indian. " Come with me and I will show him 
 where the deer rests." 
 
 "No, I am going to my fort," Smith answered. 
 "My men are but a short distance away." 
 
 At this the savage giant laughed. He had seen 
 the Englishmen pass, and knew they were out of 
 hearing. Finding he could not entice Smith away 
 in the direction of his concealed warriors, the Indian 
 thought that as they were alone, and he was so 
 much larger and stronger than the white man, it 
 would be a very easy matter to vanquish him in 
 single combat and bear away the renown of so 
 noted an exploit. Accordingly, he drew an arrow 
 and began to fit it on the string of his bow to shoot 
 the white man; but Smith was not behind in any 
 sort of business. He rushed on his adversary be- 
 fore he could let his arrow fly, and closed in with 
 him. Smith's only weapon was a falchion, which 
 14 
 
210 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 his enemy prevented him. from drawing. It seemed 
 as if the muscular savage had the power to crush a 
 smaller man like Captain Smith; but Smith was 
 an adept at scuffling and wrestling, and in an or- 
 dinary rough-and-tumble contest had never met his 
 match. He had some skill in boxing, which was 
 new to the savage, and he struck him three or four 
 blows on the face with his clinched fist, that made 
 the Indian see more stars than had ever flashed be- 
 fore his vision in the day-time. He managed to 
 force the Indian near the bank of the river, where 
 the water was quite shallow, and then both of them 
 tumbled plump into the stream. The fighting, 
 wrestling, hugging, and splashing was continued a 
 long time, without any advantage on either side. 
 The Indian's great strength was not equal to his 
 antagonist's skill. Smith clutched his throat and 
 almost strangled him, forcing his head down until 
 his forehead kissed the water. Holding his head 
 thus with his left hand, Smith drew his falchion 
 with his right, and raised it to cut off the Indian's 
 head. 
 
 "Spare me! spare!" cried the Indian piteously. 
 "Spare mc, and I will be your friend. I will 
 serve you as your slave and fight your enemies, if 
 you will save my life." 
 
 Captain Smith had a kind heart, and the king 
 begged so earnestly for his life, that he led him 
 
THE GLASS-HOUSE CONSPIRACY. 211 
 
 from the stream, tied his hands, took him to 
 Jamestown and put him in irons. 
 
 Francis was brought to trial, and Paspahegh was 
 used as an important witness against him. But 
 before a jury the wretch was convicted; Francis 
 seemed to have grown penitent and Stevens, whom 
 he had so greatly wronged, interceded for him, so 
 his life was spared. Smith would not let him go 
 without correction, however, so Francis, for a given 
 period, was sentenced to penal servitude in the 
 colony. 
 
 Smith and Stevens were especially desirous to lay 
 hands on the Dutchmen with Powhatan, and for 
 that purpose kept Paspahegh prisoner, hoping to 
 effect an exchange ; but Powhatan would not agree 
 to such an arrangement; and through the negligence 
 of William More, Paspahegh made his escape. 
 
 Captain Smith set himself resolutely to bettering 
 the condition of his people. He exacted the strict- 
 est discipline, labored as industriously as the com- 
 monest among them, and shared the brunt of all 
 dangers and hardships. 
 
 In the midst of his most self-sacrificing endeav- 
 ors, however, the English government was persuaded 
 to grant another charter for the colony differing 
 very essentially from the one under which it had 
 held its existence. This charter was no doubt ob- 
 tained through the one-sided representations of 
 
212 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 such men as Captain Newport, and was more par- 
 ticluarly intended to humiliate the brave men who 
 had successfully carried the colony along to its pres- 
 ent state. Lord De la Ware became the captain- 
 general of the colony, and one of the smaller offices 
 was donated to Captain Newport. The project 
 was now patronized by men of rank and wealth, 
 and as much parade was made over the appoint- 
 ment of officers as if the feeble little colony had 
 already grown to a powerful nation. Earls, knights, 
 and noblemen crowded into the enterprise, lifting 
 it, in popular opinion, from the uncertain character 
 that had hitherto attached to its name, to a height 
 of favor that even came to be a fashion. 
 
 This new charter was granted May 6th, 1609, 
 and under its auspices nine ships set sail from 
 England, the latter part of the same month, fully 
 equipped for an enterprise of such noticeable mag- 
 nitude. Three commissioners, Sir George Sommers, 
 Sir Thomas Gates, and Captain Newport, were ap- 
 pointed to manage the colony. As the first one 
 who arrived was to take command in advance of 
 the others, a quarrel was the natural result, and 
 finally it was decided that all three should go in 
 one vessel, the Sea Venture. On the voyage the 
 Sea Venture was separated from the others and 
 wrecked on one of the Bermuda Islands, though 
 nearly all the passengers managed to escape with 
 
THE GLASS-HOUSE CONSPIRACY. 213 
 
 their lives. One other vessel Went down; but the 
 remainder reached Jamestown. 
 
 Such a gang of broken-down rakes and profligate 
 gentry as came to Jamestown in those vessels was 
 not calculated to build a colony. The commis- 
 sioners had not yet arrived, and for a while the new- 
 comers defied Smith's authority, though he was yet 
 the proper president, as his power would not be 
 superceded until the arrival of the three commis- 
 sioners. The lawless mob was inclined to disre- 
 gard all authority. Sometimes they held up for 
 the new charter, then the old, until Smith was 
 forced to take matters in hand. 
 
 As soon as peace and quiet was somewhat re- 
 stored, he dvided up the entire body of settlers 
 into squads of a certain number each, and proceeded 
 to scatter them about in the neighborhood of the 
 settlement, where each man could labor to the best 
 advantage for his own subsistance. He sent Mr. 
 West, with one hundred and twenty men, to form a 
 new settlement at the falls of the James Eiver, 
 and Martin was sent to a place named Nansemond, 
 with as many more. Being well provided with 
 both food and implements for labor, they ought to 
 have secured at least a reasonable share of success 
 for their undertaking. 
 
 When these peaceful relations were finally estab- 
 lished, and the colony seemed again to bid fair to 
 
314 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 prosper, Captain Smith resigned his authority as 
 president in favor of Captain Martin. The latter 
 accepted the new responsibility for a short time; 
 but finding it too great, he gave it up, preferring to 
 remain at the head of his quieter colony at Nanse- 
 mond. A few weeks later, Smith learned that 
 Martin was inefficient as a ruler at Nansemond. 
 He dealt so unfairly with the Indians that they 
 made a united assault on him, killed several of his 
 men, and carried off a thousand bushels of corn. 
 He was about to abandon the colony, when Smith 
 appointed Philip Stevens to command fifty marks- 
 men, and said: 
 
 " Go to his relief, and bid them hold the locality 
 at all hazards." 
 
 " Whither are you going, captain?" Philip asked. 
 
 "I shall go to relieve West, who also is in 
 trouble." 
 
 "These people are always in trouble." 
 
 " Verily, they are, and one gets weary of pulling 
 them out of the fire into which their own folly has 
 cast them." 
 
 Smith found West in the act of returning to 
 Jamestown. He caused them to stop, removed 
 them from the low lands to a more healthful loca- 
 tion. They believed the bottoms were rich in 
 mines of gold, and wanted to remain there. After 
 no little trouble he got West established at a place 
 
THE GLASS-HOUSE CONSPIRACY. 215 
 
 called Nonsuch and returned to Jamestown, where 
 he found Philip Stevens returned after restoring 
 peace at Nansemond. 
 
 "I am beginning to be sick of making any fur- 
 ther efforts for the comfort of such disaffected and 
 ungrateful men," said Smith to his friend Stevens 
 as they sat before the captain's blazing fire. 
 
 "It is not to be wondered at, captain. Why 
 are they so foolish?" 
 
 "Marry! they be not more foolish than the 
 ordinary run of mankind. Ambition and jealousy 
 makes everything wrong to men. Their own in- 
 terests are not sufficient to make them followers 
 when they long to be leaders. These are the sons 
 of gentlemen who despise being governed. They 
 hate success in others ; they live but for the present, 
 and care not for the morrow. Verily, the world is 
 made up of such small men, and the honest must 
 suffer for them." 
 
 "When will you get justice for all you do, 
 Captain Smith?" 
 
 " Not until I die. The eyes of prejudice can see 
 nothing just in what a plebeian such as I may do. 
 Future generations will deal more fairly with us." 
 
 Smith was correct. Future generations have 
 dealt more fairly with him, and he towers above 
 the wretches who sought to defame him, as a 
 mountain towers above a mole-hill. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE FATAL SPARK. 
 
 Farewell ; but whenever you welcome the hour 
 That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower, 
 Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too, 
 And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you. 
 His griefs may return, not a hope may remain, 
 Of the few that have brightened his pathway of pain ; 
 But he ne'er will forget the short vision that threw 
 Its enchantment around him, while lingering with you. 
 
 — Moore. 
 
 Before proceeding further with this narrative, 
 it will be best, for the general information of the 
 reader, to narrate some of the events which were 
 happening at this period in the northern part of 
 North America. Upon the walls of the governor's 
 room in the city hall, New York, there hung, a few 
 years ago — and we presume it is still there — a dingy 
 canvas, bearing the portrait of a man apparently 
 about forty years of age, with short hair and beard 
 and a broad ruff, such as was worn by the English 
 gentry late in- the reign of Queen Elizabeth. It 
 was the portrait of Henry Hudson, "the bold Eng- 
 lishman, the expert pilot, and famous navigator," 
 216 
 
THE FATAL SPARK. 217 
 
 a pupil of Drake, Frohisher, and Grenville. Thor- 
 oughly imbued with the spirit of adventure then 
 rife, he sought opportunities for winning renown 
 in his prof ession. Early in 1607, Hudson received 
 a summons to the parlor of Sir Thomas Gresham, 
 a rich London merchant, who built the Eoyal Ex- 
 change. Here he met some merchants who believed 
 in the existence of a polar sea passage to India, 
 and conceived a plan for another search for it. 
 Under the auspices of these men, he sailed from 
 Gravesend, May 1st, 1607, went up the eastern 
 coast of Greenland to the eighteenth degree, where, 
 baffled by a solid barrier of ice, he was compelled 
 to turn back, having made no discovery save the 
 island of Spitzbergen. In 1608, he sailed in the 
 interest of the same company of merchants, 
 hoping to find the long-coveted northwest passage, 
 but was once more baffled by the ice block, and 
 compelled to return to England. He was not dis- 
 heartened; bux his employers were, and absolutely 
 refused to furnish him means for another expedition. 
 He went over to Holland, where he sought a like 
 service in the Dutch East India Company, a wealthy 
 corporation of merchants at Amsterdam, which had 
 been in existence about seven years. He succeeded, 
 and in the same year in which the events narrated 
 in the last chapter occurred, early in April, 1609, 
 he left the Texel in De Flalve Maen {The Half Moon) 
 
218 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 and, after manfully fighting the ice pack on the 
 same parallel of Spitzbergen and its allies, the polar 
 fogs and tempests, until all hope of success van- 
 ished, Hudson was compelled a third time to turn 
 back. He determined, however, not to go without 
 fruit to the Texel, so he sailed around the southern 
 shores into the track of searchers after the north- 
 west passage. He was forced southward by the 
 ice pack, until about the middle of July, he discov- 
 ered the American continent off the coast of Maine. 
 He spent several days in Casco Bay repairing his 
 storm-shattered vessel, where the Indians, among 
 whom he found French trinkets, treated them 
 kindly. He repaid their kindness by plundering 
 their houses and driving them from home, until 
 he roused their resentment and was compelled to 
 put to sea. He sailed down the coast, touched at 
 Cape Cod, sailed up the coast and discovered the 
 Delaware Bay, and, early in September, entered 
 New York harbor, after spending several days on 
 the shores of the beautiful Baritan Bay. In a fight 
 with the Indians in the narrows between Long Is- 
 land and Staten Island, one of the sailors was killed, 
 and they buried him on Staten Island. 
 
 Entering New York Bay, Hudson saw a broad 
 stream rising and falling with the tide. The In- 
 dians informed him that it came from beyond the 
 pale blue mountains in the distance. Fancying 
 
THE FATAL SPARK. 219 
 
 that he had at last discovered a strait leading into 
 the Indian Ocean, he sailed a few miles and an- 
 chored, trading with the Indians, who evinced a 
 disposition to be friendly. The Half Moon went 
 leisurely up the river, anchoring here and there, 
 while her commander held intercourse with the 
 natives, sometimes friendly, and sometimes hostile. 
 As the water became fresh on advancing up the 
 stream, he was satisfied that it was not a passage 
 to India, but a beautiful river, flowing down from 
 the lofty hills three hundred miles from the sea, 
 and called Mahicannituck by the natives. The 
 Dutch called it Mauritius; but the English named 
 it after its discoverer, Hudson Eiver, which name 
 it bears to-day. 
 
 The Englishman went up as far as Albany, and 
 some say as far as the mouth of the Mohawk, where 
 he gazed upon the foaming falls of Cohoes, and re- 
 turned, formally taking possession of the whole 
 country in the name of the States-General of Hol- 
 land. On his return, he landed at England, where 
 the king, becoming jealous of the advantages of 
 the discovery to the Dutch, issued an order that 
 the navigator should not leave the realm; but 
 Hudson secretly sent his maps, charts, log-books, 
 and history of the voyage to his Amsterdam em- 
 ployers. This resulted in the planting of a colony 
 called New Amsterdam at the mouth of the river, 
 
320 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 and a colony at the head of navagable waters, 
 called New Orange, both of which became prosper- 
 ous settlements. 
 
 Hudson's reputation as an explorer was estab- 
 lished, and next year the English sent him out on 
 a fourth voyage, the object of which was the dis- 
 covery of the long-sought but never found north- 
 west passage. In this voyage he discovered the 
 bay and strait which bear his name. His crew 
 mutinied, and Hudson, his son, and seven men 
 who remained true to him, were seized, pinioned, 
 and set adrift in an open boat, where they soon 
 perished. 
 
 While Hudson was discovering the Hudson 
 River, New York Bay, and laying the foundation 
 of the two Dutch colonies, Captain John Smith 
 and his friend Philip Stevens still wrestled with 
 the mutineers at Jamestown and the adjoining 
 settlements. 
 
 Captain Smith, with Stevens, had been up the 
 river to quell a mutiny in West's colony, at Non- 
 such. Affairs had reached such a state that West 
 had abandoned his colony. Smith found the In- 
 diaDs whom he had humbled to be his friends, and 
 ready to assist him in putting down any mutiny 
 with the whites. The mutiny was quelled, and, 
 when things began to go smoothly, West returned 
 to his colony. He had proved himself a coward, 
 
THE FATAL SPARK. 221 
 
 destitute of energy or the manliness so essential to 
 his new position ; but when Smith and Stevens had 
 made smooth the path for him, he returned to re- 
 sume the authority he had so basely forfeited. 
 
 " Are you going to permit him to take posses- 
 sion of the colony again?" asked Philip Stevens. 
 
 "It is the way such men are apt to do," Smith 
 answered. "In danger they are white with fear; 
 but where there is no cause for alarm they are the 
 pettiest and meanest tyrants in the world." 
 
 No sooner was West restored to authority than 
 he began to persuade Smith and Stevens to release 
 the chief men among the mutineers whom they 
 held prisoners. Among them was William More 
 and Francis, whom Stevens had cause to fear and 
 hate. West pleaded long and earnestly, and the 
 generous Englishman and Spaniard finally con- 
 sented to their release. They cared nothing for re- 
 venge, and had no object in view in. the imprison- 
 ment of the mutineers save the highest good of the 
 settlement. Accordingly they consented to give 
 the plotters of evil their liberty. 
 
 When this was done, Smith and Stevens took 
 their leave of the place, and, with a small party of 
 men, set out in the boat for Jamestown. No sooner 
 was Smith's influence removed from Nonsuch, than 
 the foolish settlers abandoned the place in a body, 
 and located in the swampy, unhealthy country 
 
222 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 where disease and death began to prey upon 
 them. 
 
 It was early morning; the boat was gliding 
 down the stream, and Captain Smith, almost worn 
 out with fatigue, stood in the bow talking with 
 Stevens. 
 
 "Those people will not remain there long," said 
 Philip. 
 
 "Alas, your fears are too well grounded," said 
 Smith. " I am beginning to be heartily sick of 
 making any further efforts for the comforts of dis- 
 affected and ungrateful men." 
 
 " Are you not tired?" asked Stevens. 
 
 " I would gladly lie down and take a few mo- 
 ments' sleep, did I know that our boat would glide 
 on without trouble." 
 
 "It will." 
 
 Smith shook his head. 
 
 "We cannot say so with assurance." 
 
 "I will remain in the bow," said Stevens. 
 
 "You are in need of rest as much as I." 
 
 "Nay, say not so, for I have slept and rested 
 until I am quite refreshed." 
 
 After much persuasion, he induced Smith to re- 
 tire to the stern of the boat to sleep, while he re- 
 mained in the bow on the lookout for Indians and 
 floating logs of Wood, which made navigation at 
 times both difficult and dangerous. The thoughts 
 
THE FATAL SPARK. 323 
 
 of the young Spaniard grew sad as he reflected on 
 the dark past, and a future in which there seemed 
 not a single brilliant prospect. His mind wandered 
 back to his unhappy captivity in childhood, and 
 Emily. 
 
 "Why has fate dealt so unkindly with me?" he 
 asked himself, gazing down the stream. " Had I 
 never met Emily, I should not mourn her now. 
 Has she forgotten me and chosen some other lover, 
 or has an unknown fate befallen her?" 
 
 He had caused search to be made for her in all 
 parts of England where she had been ; but no trace 
 of the maiden could be found. The little home 
 in which he had been so kindly entertained by the 
 widow and her daughter was deserted. He was 
 roused from his painful revery by a loud explosion 
 at the stern of the boat, accompanied by a sharp 
 cry of pain. 
 
 " What has happened?" he demanded from some 
 of the men who came hurrying forward. 
 
 They were too much excited to answer and gave 
 utterance to wild, excited cries. There came a 
 splash in the river, and he saw a head floating 
 above the water. 
 
 "Who is in the water? Who has fallen over- 
 board?" he demanded. 
 
 There was no answer. He ran to the side of 
 the boat nearest the head, just as it disapppeared 
 
224 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 under the water; Again the head rose and the 
 arms struck out in the wildest manner, splashing 
 water in every direction. The young Spaniard 
 recognized in that agonized face his friend Captain 
 Smith. A dense cloud of sulphurous smoke set- 
 tled about the place, and he could scarcely see; 
 but at the risk of his life be leaned over the boat, 
 seized one of those hands and drew Captain Smith 
 into the boat. His clothes were burned and he 
 was suffering intolerable pain. 
 
 "How did it happen?" asked Philip. 
 
 Smith was suffering too much to answer imme- 
 diately ; but Philip discovered that he was fearfully 
 burned and mangled by an explosion of powder. 
 
 "Who did it, captain? Tell me how it hap- 
 pened!" 
 
 "I would tell, were it in my power," groaned 
 Smith; "but I know not how it happened. I was 
 sleeping in the boat, when my powder-pouch was 
 fired. Whether it was an accident, or maliciously 
 for a purpose, I know not, nor will presume to 
 judge; but my flesh is torn and burned." 
 
 "Did you do this?" demanded Philip, turning 
 upon William More. 
 
 "In God's name, I swear I did not!" answered 
 More. 
 
 " If I knew who did it, I would fling his body 
 into the water to feed the fishes." 
 
THE FATAL SPARK. 
 
 225 
 
 "Do nothing rash!" exclaimed Smith, who, de- 
 spite his pain, was merciful. "We know not 
 whether it be an accident or not." 
 
 Though Philip Stevens was much of the opinion 
 
 "He seized one of his hands and drew Captain Smith 
 into the boat." 
 
 that it was More or some of Smith's enemies who 
 had attempted his life, he had no proofs, and was 
 compelled to accept the disaster as an accident. 
 
 "We are a great distance from Jamestown, in an 
 open boat, and there is no surgeon near," he said 
 15 
 
226 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 to the sailors. " Let us make all haste to reach the 
 settlement as soon as possible." 
 
 The men declared their willingness to do all in 
 their power to hasten the voyage, and oars and 
 sails were plied with wonderful persistence and 
 determination. With that fortitude and com- 
 posure which had at all times been the peculiar 
 characteristic of Captain Smith, he bore up under 
 the long voyage with scarcely a groan. 
 
 On reaching Jamestown, Smith at once had his 
 wounds dressed and healing ointments applied. 
 Wounded, disfigured, and crippled as he was, he 
 found himself called upon to forget his bodily 
 sufferings and turn his attention to the evils that 
 were fast overshadowing them all. The rebellious 
 spirits, whom he had long ago arrested for their 
 treason, had resolved to anticipate the result of their 
 rapidly approaching trial, by stirring up greater 
 prejudice against their commander. Sick and 
 dispirited as he was, he could not avoid seeing it 
 all, and understanding the necessity that lay upon 
 him to prepare at once to meet any emergency. 
 One evening he sent for Stevens, and when the 
 young Spaniard reached his bedside, he said: 
 
 " I have sent for you because you are one of the 
 men whom I can trust. While I lie here, mangled 
 and suffering tortures, those whose interest I have 
 ever had at heart, are plotting at my ruin." 
 
THE FATAL SPARK. 327 
 
 "Of this I am aware," Philip answered. 
 
 " Watch them, Philip, for I believe they will as- 
 sassinate me if they have an opportunity." 
 
 "I shall watch them and frustrate their plans," 
 Philip answered. 
 
 It was secretly resolved among the most wicked 
 and desperate of Smith's enemies to assassinate 
 him. Francis himself was at the head of the con- 
 spiracy. He sought More, who proved a weak 
 tool in his hands, and laid before him a plan for 
 the destruction of Smith. 
 
 "Go and do it, and you shall be rewarded!" 
 said Francis. 
 
 "But surely I would be hung for murder," an- 
 swered More. 
 
 "Nay; we would afterward shield you with the 
 power of our influence in the settlement." 
 
 "And must I slay him?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Surely it will be murder," said More, shud- 
 dering. 
 
 " Nay; is he not a tyrant? Is he not a usurper, 
 and has he not shed blood with his own hands?" 
 
 "He has." 
 
 " Then hesitate no longer, but go this night and 
 slay him while he sleeps." 
 
 More went away with his courage screwed up to 
 the sticking-point. The act received the approba- 
 
238 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 tion of some who ought to have been the promoters 
 of the peace and good of the colony. They had 
 not the courage to accuse Smith of any crime. 
 Their manliness did not carry them far enough to 
 defame him in the face of the whole settlement; 
 but it was their policy, as it was their nature, to 
 conspire like cowardly thieves and robbers to such 
 foul deeds as Francis proposed to More. 
 
 All the remainder of the day, More felt already 
 like a murderer. He avoided his companions and 
 wandered alone in the woods. While thus stroll- 
 ing, awaiting for the hours of darkness to perpetrate 
 his heinous crime, he heard a light footstep behind 
 him, and, wheeling about, spied Pocahontas. 
 
 "Whither do you wander?" he demanded 
 harshly. 
 
 "Was the great white chief slain?" asked the 
 little maiden, her eyes growing moist. "I heard 
 that he was slain." 
 
 "He was not; but he will die." 
 
 "Can I go and see him?" she asked. 
 
 "Go! leave the neighborhood. Fly to your 
 father for your life; or you will be chased with 
 dogs." 
 
 If William More thought to frighten Pocahon- 
 tas by his threats, he Vas mistaken. Love was 
 stronger than fear, and as the shadows of darkness 
 crept over the fort she drew nearer and nearer, until 
 
THE FATAL SPARK. 329 
 
 she stood gazing through the palisades at the house 
 in which lay the wounded man. 
 
 It was midnight, and a dark form, pistol in his 
 hand, crept toward Captain Smith's house. No 
 doors were locked in those days, and Smith's was 
 found ajar. Exhausted and weak from the loss of 
 blood, Captain Smith slept soundly. He heard 
 not the tread of this would-be murderer. More 
 crept into the house and stood by the side of the 
 sleeping man. He held his pistol a moment in his 
 trembling hand. The glow of the smouldering fire 
 dimly lighted the room, and the pale light fell on 
 the ghastly face of the slumbering man. He raised 
 the weapon slowly and pointed it at his head; but 
 all plans do not result according to the wishes of 
 their projectors. Strange and unexpected inter- 
 ruptions occur sometimes to thwart their success 
 at the very last step of their progress. William 
 More held the pistol at the head of Captain Smith, 
 and nothing remained for him but to pull the trig- 
 ger and send the soal of the wounded man to eter- 
 nity; but that simple little act was just what he 
 could not perform. Something mysterious pre- 
 vented him. His heart failed at the moment when 
 his villany most needed that wicked heart's assist- 
 ance. His malice softened. His passion died in 
 his breast. The weapon fell undischarged and 
 powerless at his side, and the vanquished villain 
 
230 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 slunk away to repent of the murder that still fret- 
 ted and festered his inhuman heart. 
 
 All the time More was threatening the life of 
 Captain John Smith, a small face on which was 
 depicted deepest agony and despair gazed through 
 the palisades. The olive face was almost white 
 with dread, and the little hands beat at the gate in 
 vain, while the mellow Indian tongue cried: 
 
 "He will be murdered! He will be slain, and 
 I cannot aid him!" 
 
 Philip Stevens, by the merest chance, came by 
 the gate and espied Pocahontas. He went to her 
 and asked what she wanted. 
 
 "Let me in!" she said. "Open the gate and 
 let me come in!" 
 
 He opened the gate, and entering, she told him 
 what she had seen. They flew to the cabin in 
 which the wounded captain slept; but the wouli- 
 be assassin was gone, humbled and defeated by his 
 own conscience. They took care not to awake the 
 sleeping man, and Pocahontas, after securing from 
 Philip a promise to guard the man she loved by 
 day and night went away. Smith never knew, 
 to the day of his death, that she, like a guardian 
 angel, had hovered about him in that awful hour 
 of danger. 
 
 Philip Stevens and several others, fearing for 
 the final safety of the settlement and all it con- 
 
THE FATAL SPARK. 231 
 
 tained, gathered around the bedside of Captain 
 Smith, promising devotion to him to the last. 
 
 " We know who the conspirators are!" said one. 
 "But give us the word and we will behead them 
 without warning." 
 
 " No, no ! " Smith answered. " I can see no good 
 that can come of bloodshed. If blood must be 
 shed, I prefer to be the uncomplaining victim." 
 
 The friends and followers of Captain Smith were 
 deeply touched by these new proofs of his magnan- 
 imous devotion, for they could now see the great 
 and constant sacrifices he had been making from 
 the time when they all left the shores of England 
 together, and which he was still willing to make. 
 If the many failed to appreciate his nobleness of 
 nature, the chosen few did not forget to love and 
 admire him all the more. Placing themselves in 
 imagination in his own unhappy circumstances, they 
 could readily see the trials and tortures through 
 which his lofty spirit had passed. Misrepresented 
 before the government at home; envied and hated 
 by the colonists whose very lives he held in his 
 hands; deprived of his legitimate authority by 
 every new arrival of raw recruits, yet expected to 
 become law and order and all things else when 
 danger and trouble might overtake them in the riot 
 of their follies; his very energy mistaken for 
 selfish and mercenary ambition, and his enthusiasm 
 
232 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 chilled by the plots and counterplots of a set of 
 lawless conspirators: who can wonder that at last 
 he grew tired of trying to do anything for a crew 
 of such thankless wretches, and that his heart pined 
 for the home-land with whose free winds he had 
 first drawn his breath? He called Philip Stevens 
 to his side and imparted to him his intentions. 
 
 "Are you really going to return to England?" 
 asked Philip. 
 
 "Yes; I am sick, sore, and wounded," sighed 
 Captain Smith. " I have outlived my usefulness 
 among these people, and it is better that I retire to 
 more peaceful scenes where possibly I may regain 
 the health lost in striving to build up a home in 
 this new country." 
 
 "Then I will go with you," said Philip. 
 
 " No, I beg of you to remain. These unfortunate 
 people cannot succeed if the few stout hearts and 
 cool heads among them are taken away. Eemain, 
 I beseech you, remain." 
 
 He urged him so strongly that Philip was con- 
 strained to yield to his desire and remain. Smith 
 resigned what was left of his authority to Mr. 
 Percy. The ship was in the harbor on a quiet 
 autumnal morning, when, stipported by Philip 
 Stevens, Smith went slowly from his house toward 
 the boat waiting to convey him to it. When 
 they reached the great chestnut, beneath whose 
 
THE FATAL SPARK. 233 
 
 friendly shade he had so often reposed, he paused 
 and said: 
 
 "Let us rest a moment, Philip. They are in 
 no hurry, and I would take one more view of 
 Jamestown before I leave it forever." 
 
 "Do not say forever," said Philip sadly, as 
 they seated themselves on a grassy knoll. " Surely, 
 you will return." 
 
 Smith shook his head sadly as he answered: 
 
 "No, no; I feel the impression so strongly in 
 my heart that I shall never return that it amounts 
 to conviction. Here I have spent the best of my 
 life; here I have striven to do only what is best 
 for these people; but they would not let me, 
 and unless I write my own history my name will 
 be handed down to future generations as a miser- 
 able failure." 
 
 "Will you never see Pocahontas?" 
 
 Philip Stevens had touched a tender chord in 
 the stern warrior's heart. He half started from 
 the ground, when the pain from his wounds forced 
 him to resume his seat. 
 
 "It is needless to think of her now, my friend. 
 As yet she is but a child. If I have been foolish 
 enough in the past to mingle her face with my 
 brightest Lopes, the romance of our lives might 
 justify it. She is an angel and will ever retain a 
 place in my heart." 
 
234 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Captain Smith ceased talking and, covering his 
 face with his hands, remained silent. After several 
 moments Philip spoke: 
 
 "Captain Smith, you are going to England, 
 where yon may meet many faces once familiar to 
 you." 
 
 "I hope I shall." 
 
 " And some I know. " 
 
 "Perhaps." 
 
 "Will you do me a favor?" 
 
 "Certainly, if it lies in my power." 
 
 " You may, in your wandering, meet Emily and 
 her mother, who were so kind to the poor little 
 fugitive flying from his cruel master and seeking 
 an asylum among strangers." 
 
 "If I should, what would you have me tell 
 Emily?" 
 
 "Tell her to wait and hope." 
 
 "I will." 
 
 " The day may come when she will see the ful- 
 filment of my promise." 
 
 "God grant it! Once let this country be peo- 
 pled with the right class, and there will grow up 
 a nation that will rule the world. Here is a coun- 
 try, the expanse of which is unknown. The soil, 
 the atmosphere, and the location fit it for future 
 wonders. Eemain here, my friend, and be the father 
 of a posterity that may in the far future bless the 
 
. . 
 
 '"'■■.'■ v ■■■■■- 
 
 "TFT 
 
 
 
 HE WATCHED THE SHORES OP VIRGINIA UMTIL THEY FADED OUT OF SIGHT. 
 
THE FATAL SPARK. 235 
 
 poor, despised, misunderstood, and badly used 
 John Smith." 
 
 The vessel made signal for the boat, and Captain 
 Smith embraced his friend, entered the boat, and 
 was conveyed to the vessel. 
 
 Leaning on his crutch, he remained on the deck 
 and watched the shores of Virginia until they faded 
 away from his sight forever. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE YOUNG PRISONER. 
 
 I envy not in any moods, 
 The captive void of noble rage, 
 The linnet born within the cage, 
 That never knew the summer woods. 
 
 —Tennyson. 
 
 On that bright day in September, 1609, when 
 Captain John Smith sailed away from Jamestown, 
 it was a straggling assembly of fifty or sixty houses, 
 hardly worthy of being called a village. The 
 houses were built of wood, some of them two stories 
 in height, with roofs of boards, mats, and reed 
 thatch. There were, in addition to the dwelling 
 houses, a church and a storehouse, the whole in- 
 closed by a palisade of strong logs, fifteen feet high. 
 At the neck of the peninsula was the fort, with 
 cannon mounted on the platforms; in the rear the 
 forest, where dusky shadows flitted to and fro, and 
 in the front the broad river flowing to the sea, 
 toward which the straining eyes had so often been 
 directed in search of the white sails coming from 
 "home." 
 
 236 
 
 *, 
 
THE YOUNG PRISONER. 237 
 
 There were in the colony two hundred fighting 
 men, who, like Philip Stevens, had been trained in 
 the art in the Indian warfare. After the departure 
 of Smith, Had cliff e, the agitator and anarchist, again 
 made trouble for the colony, and the weak Percy 
 was unable to cope with him. He was an impostor 
 of the worst character. His true name was Sickle- 
 more, and why he saw fit to assume an alias no 
 historian has ever been able to explain. The Indi- 
 ans were not slow in learning that the master hand 
 had been withdrawn from the colony. Every day 
 they became more aggressive. West was driven 
 in from Nonsuch, and the colony at Nansemond, 
 under Martin, was also driven into Jamestown. 
 
 When Philip Stevens learned that Eadcliffe was 
 going to Werowocomoco, he tried to dissuade him. 
 
 " The Indians are roused against the English," he 
 argued, "and it will be exceedingly dangerous to 
 venture among them at this time." 
 
 "You say so because you fear to go," tantaliz- 
 ingly returned Eadcliffe. 
 
 "I am not afraid to go," Philip answered. 
 
 "Will you become one of the company?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then join us." 
 
 In those days few words were spoken. Those 
 frontiersmen were men of action, not of speech. 
 With only thirty men and a boy, Radcliffe set out 
 
238 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 for Werowocomoco. When they came to the 
 town, they found the grim old chief at his lodge, 
 his daughter Pocahontas with him. 
 
 "Where is Captain Smith?" he asked. 
 
 "He is dead," answered Eadcliffe. 
 
 Pocahontas started at the answer, and the tears, 
 despite all her savage stoicism, gathered in her 
 eyes. 
 
 "You killed him, " said Powhatan grimly. " He 
 was my friend and brother." 
 
 "We are better off without him!" Eadcliffe an- 
 swered. The chief did not like the answer, and 
 with a scowl on his face he demanded: 
 
 "Why did you come here?" 
 
 "We want corn," was the answer. 
 
 "I have no corn for you." 
 
 "You shall fill my boat." 
 
 The chief made no answer; but a lodge was set 
 apart for them and Eadcliffe was sent to it with his 
 command. He had scarcely reached it when Po- 
 cahontas came to him, her pretty face streaming 
 with tears. 
 
 "Is he dead?" she asked. 
 
 "Captain John Smith is dead," he answered. 
 " He was blown up with powder because he was a 
 bad man, and he died of his wounds." 
 
 " No, no, he was not bad. Bad men killed him; 
 but he was not an evil man." 
 
THE YOUNG PRISONER. 239 
 
 Kadcliffe enjoyed her grief, and the girl went 
 away, disgusted at his heartlessness. 
 
 " If they slew him, then may my father wreak 
 his vengeance on them." 
 
 But there was one who was a friend of Captain 
 Smith, and that one she determined to save. 
 
 Philip and the guard were quartered some dis- 
 tance from the others, and in the silent watches of 
 the night a small hand was laid on his wrist, and a 
 low voice said: 
 
 "Awake — arise, white man!" 
 
 "Pocahontas," he whispered, leaping to his feet. 
 
 "There is danger; come with me." 
 
 As Philip rose to his feet, he seized the sleeping 
 boy with his left hand, and his gun in his right. 
 
 "Follow me!" whispered Pocahontas. 
 
 "Let me go and warn my friends." 
 
 "There is no time." 
 
 At first Philip thought she only said this to gain 
 time; but at this moment a deafening yell broke 
 on the air near the lodge in which Eadcliffe quar- 
 tered, and the whiz of arrows and flash of muskets 
 told a terrible story of carnage and death. 
 
 Twice Philip raised his gun to fire at the Indians, 
 and twice the small hand of Pocahontas seized his 
 arm, and prevented his doing so. 
 
 "Do not do it!" she said. "Do not fire, or I 
 I cannot save you." 
 
240 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 He lowered his gun and she seized his hand, and 
 again whispered: 
 
 "Come!" 
 
 It grieved the heart of Philip to quit the battle- 
 field in so ignominious a manner, and but for the 
 restraining hand of Pocahontas he would have 
 rushed back to the scene of conflict and died with 
 his comrades. She clung to him and forced him 
 to fly. He and the boy were all that escaped. 
 Eadcliffe perished among the others; so the in- 
 trigues of this old disturber came to an end. He 
 had been an agitator from first to last. The only 
 service that he had ever attempted was the search 
 for White's colony, lost at Eoanoke, and in this 
 he had utterly failed. Eolphe Hamor wrote his 
 epitaph in these few but meaning words: "He is 
 not worth remembering but to his dishonor." 
 
 Powhatan, under the impression that Captain 
 Smith had been assassinated by his own people, 
 determined to carry the war to the most extreme 
 measure. The colony at Jamestown soon felt - the 
 loss of Smith. Stevens sought to aid Percy in his 
 government with wholesome counsel, but was in- 
 formed that his advice was not desired. 
 
 Disorder increased as the days passed, and ruin 
 and dissolution became more rapid. Percy fell 
 sick and was unable to leave his bed; Eadcliffe 
 had fallen among the savages, and West, in despair, 
 
THE YOUNG PRISONER. 241 
 
 sailed for England. With every passing hour 
 the prospect grew darker. Stevens was urged by 
 a small party to assume control; but twenty more 
 claimed the presidency, and his authority was de- 
 fied. Without even a shadow of a title, he could 
 not assume the authority. Thirty men seized a 
 vessel and ran off to engage in piracy. Utter 
 hopelessness took possession of those left behind. 
 Every day death visited some house, and when a 
 house became depopulated it was torn down for fire- 
 wood. When parties went to the savages to plead 
 piteously for food, they were met with arrows 
 and clubs. The palisades were burned, the open 
 gates swung to and fro, creaking in the winter 
 wind, for men, women, and children in "the starv- 
 ing time" had lost all fear of the Indians: Sup- 
 plies were exhausted. Hogs, hens, goats, sheep, 
 or whatever lived was devoured. At last some 
 were driven to such straits that they resorted to 
 cannibalism. 
 
 Of the five hundred colonists left by Captain 
 Smith when he sailed in September, there remained 
 in the last days of May, 1610, only sixty miserable 
 creatures, huddled together behind the dismantled 
 palisades, with pale faces and emaciated forms, 
 their thin lips uttering cries for food. In ten days 
 more all the colonists would have perished ; but at 
 the last moment deliverance was at hand. 
 15 
 
242 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 The readers will remember that a new charter 
 had been granted the colonists, and that Newport, 
 Somers, and Gates were on their way to take con- 
 trol when their ship was wrecked on one of the 
 Bermuda Islands, then known as the "Isles of 
 Devils." The shipwrecked mariners were not of 
 the class that give way to despair. They proceeded 
 to gather material and tools from the wreck, and 
 cutting down cedars, they constructed two vessels, 
 the Patience and the Deliverance, and sailed for 
 Virginia, reaching the starving colony just as they 
 were on the eve of dissolution. 
 
 Among the colonists wrecked in the Sea Venture 
 was John Eolfe, whose wife died while at that 
 island. 
 
 The newly arrived emigrants found only a mis- 
 erable starving band where they had hoped to find 
 peace and plenty. For a while they tried to stem 
 the tide of adversity ; but at last Gates yielded to 
 the importunities of the disaffected, and they em- 
 barked in his poorly constructed vessels for Eng- 
 land. 
 
 "Wait awhile longer!" Philip urged. "Succor 
 may come to us yet." 
 
 But his life was threatened if he sought to delay 
 them, and some even urged Gates to set fire to the 
 fort and dwellings at Jamestown. 
 
 " Don't do it!" pleaded Stevens. " I have spent 
 
THE YOUNG PRISONER. 243 
 
 so many days here, have suffered, hoped, and 
 struggled so long in this town, that I cannot now 
 bear to see it destroyed. 
 
 "I will not permit a single building to be 
 burned," Gates answered. 
 
 So the fort was saved, and well it was for them, 
 for at evening of the next day the whole company, 
 with others, were again at Jamestown, offering 
 thanksgiving to God for their great deliverance. 
 At dawn that morning, the eyes of the disconsolate 
 fugitives had been greeted by the apparition of 
 white sails moving up the James Eiver, as Gates 
 and his followers were approaching its mouth. 
 They were the white wings of Lord De la Ware's 
 ships, which were filled with provisions and emi- 
 grants, accompanied by the pious governor, a pru- 
 dent, generous man. Bade to Jamestown they 
 went. The governor landed first; the emigrants 
 followed, and, when all were on shore, his lordship 
 fell upon his knees, and, bowing his head, engaged 
 in a long, silent prayer, while his people stood rev- 
 erently by. 
 
 After this devotion Eev. Mr. Bucke, who had 
 come to take the place of Mr. Hunt, who had died, 
 led the people to the unfinished church where he 
 preached a sermon in the evening twilight, and a 
 large part of the congregation joined in the singing 
 of the anthems. 
 
244 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Under Lord De la Ware there came a great 
 change for the better at Jamestown. The church 
 and public houses were rebuilt, the fort recon- 
 structed, and the colonists taught to plant and 
 sow for their food, instead of depending on foraging 
 expeditions against the Indians. The health of 
 Lord De la Ware failed, however, and in the spring 
 of 1611 he returned to England, leaving the gov- 
 ernment in charge of Percy, Smith's successor. 
 
 At the same time Sir Thomas Dale, a brave sol- 
 dier, was out on the ocean with a ship of supplies, 
 and on his arrival, which was hailed with delight, 
 he assumed the reins of government and ruled by- 
 martial law both the church and state. Gates ar- 
 rived at the close of summer with six ships well 
 supplied and three hundred emigrants. These 
 emigrants were of a much better class than any 
 which had yet been brought to Virginia. A 
 greater proportion of them were sober and indus- 
 trious, and their influence upon the earlier settlers 
 was salutary. Gates assumed the functions of 
 governor, and Dale went up the river and planted 
 settlements at the mouth of the Appomattox 
 Eiver (now Bermuda Hundred) and at the river 
 falls (now Eichmond). Over these the Eev. Mr. 
 Whittaker was placed pastor. 
 
 A new charter was granted the company, which 
 allowed the powers of the association to be distrib- 
 
THE YOUNG PRISONER. 345 
 
 uted in a democratic manner, among all the mem- 
 bers, who met in mass for deliberation and legisla- 
 tion. This was the embryo of the law-making 
 powers which are the pride of our commonwealth. 
 The most important act affecting the welfare of the 
 settlement was that which allowed every man to 
 cultivate a few acres of land for his own sole use 
 and benefit. Before that time the land was tilled in 
 common, and the industrious provided food for the 
 lazy. There was no special incentive to industry 
 in such a system ; but in the new arrangement, when 
 each man could own property, pride stimulated 
 the energetic and ambitious to their greatest efforts. 
 Though no political privileges were granted the 
 colonists by the new charter, and they could not 
 choose the pettiest officials to rule them, they were 
 contented. 
 
 Powhatan's hostility toward the whites did not 
 diminish, and the powerful Chickahominies, their 
 nearest neighbors, sympathized with the dusky 
 emperor and allowed no provisions to be carried 
 to Jamestown. As the colonists had not yet had an 
 opportunity to grow sufficient corn to support them, 
 their food once more became scarce. 
 
 "Let me by one bold stroke procure food enough 
 for all," said Captain Argall, who was in command 
 of one of the vessels. 
 
 "What is your plan?" asked Gates. 
 
246 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "I will imitate Captain Smith — go to Powhatan 
 and demand corn. If he refuses, burn his town 
 and seize his people." 
 
 Gates sent for Philip Stevens and told him of 
 Argall's plan. 
 
 "Will it succeed?" 
 
 "All depends on the man who executes it, and I 
 know so little of Captain Argall's temperament 
 that I cannot form an opinion," answered Philip. 
 
 "Captain Smith was successful in. his demands." 
 
 "But there are few men like Smith. He hesi- 
 tated not. He was bold and merciful, daring and 
 cautious. He read men's hearts rather than their 
 minds, and, while he was severe, at the same time 
 he was gentle and kind. If Argall is all this, he. 
 will succeed ; if not, he will fail. " 
 
 Argall sailed up the river in quest of corn, and 
 one night, while at anchor near the shore, Francis, 
 Who, since the arrival of the new governor, had been 
 staying in the forest, came to the shore and ex- 
 pressed a wish to go on board. Argall sent for 
 him, and as soon as he was on board Francis in- 
 quired the object of the expedition. 
 
 "We are going to Powhatan for corn." 
 
 "I know how you can obtain all you wish," 
 said Francis. 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Pocahontas, the dearest daughter of the chief, 
 
THE YOUNQ PRISONER. 247 
 
 is with a chief named Japazaws. He will, for a 
 very small bribe, deliver her up to you. With 
 Pocahontas for a prisoner, you may demand your 
 own ransom." 
 
 Captain Argall was both shrewd and unscrupu- 
 lous and, despite all the little maiden had done for 
 the English, resolved to seize her and carry her 
 to Jamestown. An interview with Japazaws was 
 brought about, and, for a copper kettle, he prom- 
 ised to betray Pocahontas and bring her on board 
 his vessel. 
 
 Why Pocahontas had left her home to live with 
 Japazaws is a matter of doubt among historians. 
 Some affirm that she was angry at her father and 
 had left him. Her heart was full of grief at 
 hearing of the death of Captain Smith, and she 
 had decided on a change of scenery. When 
 she saw the ship of the white men lying in the 
 river, it seemed to reopen the old wound in her 
 heart. 
 
 Japazaws began to persuade his wife to go with 
 him to visit the ship. 
 
 " I do not care to go on the boat of the white 
 man," his wife answered. 
 
 "I want to see it," said Japazaws, "and the 
 captain invites us to come, and you must go with 
 me!" 
 
 "I will not," the wife answered. 
 
248 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "You shall!" cried the Indian, "or I will beat 
 you for refusing." At this the Indian's wife 
 began to weep as if in fear, and said she would go 
 if Pocahontas would accompany her. 
 
 This was only a clever ruse on the part of the 
 Indian and his wife to get the "poor innocent 
 maid" on board the big canoe. Pocahontas, in 
 order to save the old woman from a beating, con- 
 sented to accompany her aboard the ship. 
 
 Argall gladly received them and had a feast pre- 
 pared in his cabin. Japazaws repeatedly trod on 
 his foot to remind him that he had done his part. 
 When the captain saw his time, he persuaded 
 Pocahontas to go into the gun-room, saying he 
 wished to speak alone with Japazaws. Pocahontas, 
 unsuspecting any treachery, obeyed. No sooner 
 was she in the gun-room than the door was locked, 
 and she was a prisoner. She wept bitterly and 
 implored him to spare her. Her false friends, 
 Japazaws and his wife, howled and wept, but it 
 was only assumed, for as soon as they had the 
 copper kettle and a few trinkets which had been 
 given them, they departed. 
 
 Orders were immediately given to weigh anchor, 
 and the vessel sailed down the river to Jamestown. 
 Argall called upon his little, captive and found her 
 in tears. 
 
 "What wrong have I done," she asked, "that 
 
THE YOUNG PRISONER. 249 
 
 you should carry me away from my friends ? Have 
 I not always been friendly to the Englishmen? 
 Have I not on all occasions shown that I was will- 
 ing, even at the risk of my life, to save them, and 
 now why do you seek to drag me back to your town 
 a prisoner?" 
 
 Captain Argall felt guilty of a dastardly act. 
 He had no answer to make, for he knew he de- 
 served censure. Before the light of her innocence 
 the blackness of his own offence seemed a stain 
 which could never be washed away. He conducted 
 her to Jamestown and sent word to Powhatan de- 
 manding a liberal donation of gifts in corn. A 
 message was also sent to the effect that Pocahontas 
 could not be released until the emperor should 
 give up all weapons that he or his people had in 
 any way obtained from the English. 
 
 Next day after the arrival of the vessel at James- 
 town, Philip Stevens and John Eolfe met "William 
 More, who had been with Argall. 
 
 "What have you accomplished?" asked Philip. 
 "Did you freight your ship with corn?" 
 
 "Better still." 
 
 " With gold and jewels?" asked Bolfe. 
 
 "No; better still than either corn or gold." 
 
 "What have you brought?" 
 
 "A prisoner." 
 
 "Only one?" 
 
250 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "Only one; yet that one is worth a whole ship- 
 load of ordinary prisoners." 
 
 "Is it Powhatan?" asked Philip. 
 
 " No ; but one whom Powhatan loves more dearly 
 than his own life." 
 
 "Pocahontas?" asked Philip. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Why did Captain Argall commit so heinous 
 a crime?" he exclaimed. "She, of all the red 
 people we have known, has been kind and gentle, 
 and saved our lives time and again. It is a cow- 
 ardly act of which Argall should be ashamed." 
 
 William More was not friendly with Stevens 
 and did not linger to discuss the subject. As soon 
 as he was gone, John Eolfe asked: 
 
 " Have you ever seen the Indian princess Poca- 
 hontas?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Is she as gentle and kind as represented?" 
 
 "She is an angel," declared Philip. "Every 
 man in the old colony owes his life to her." 
 
 "I would like to see her." 
 
 " You are friendly with Argall. Let us gain per- 
 mission to go aboard his ship," suggested Philip. 
 
 Permission was obtained, and they went aboard 
 the vessel, where they asked to see Pocahontas. 
 Captain Argall was at first a little averse to their 
 seeing her; but as he was planning an expedition 
 
THE YOUNG PRISONER. 251 
 
 up the Chesapeake and relied on Philip's experi- 
 ence as a seaman to aid him, he dared not refuse 
 his request, and they were shown to the apartment 
 in which the little captive was confined. 
 
 She sat with bowed head, and did not look up 
 until the familiar voice of Stevens fell on her ear. 
 Then she fixed her queenly eyes on him, and a faint 
 smile of welcome flitted over her face. 
 
 "I regret finding you here," said Philip. "This 
 man is my friend, John Eolfe, and we have come 
 to assure you that no harm shall befall you." 
 
 "Why am I brought here?" she asked. 
 
 "To induce your people to give up some guns 
 and swords which they took from the fort." 
 
 "But I took no guns nor swords." 
 
 "Nor should you be punished for the acts of 
 others. Although we cannot give you your liberty, 
 you shall not be harmed." 
 
 John Eolfe was strongly moved by the youth 
 and beauty of the unhappy prisoner. He spoke 
 even more encouragingly than Stevens, and declared 
 that he was willing to defend her with his life. He 
 repeated his visit next day and stayed longer than 
 before. These visits became of daily occurrence 
 and occasioned comment. One day, meeting 
 Philip, he said: 
 
 "I have been to see the captive and find her as 
 cheerful and resigned as ever." 
 
252 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "She is a remarkable prisoner." 
 
 "I never saw a more lovable character." 
 
 As Eolfe ceased speaking his eyes sought the 
 ground, and a tell-tale blush swept over his face. 
 Philip Stevens, who had been watching his friend 
 for the last few days, had noticed his increasing 
 interest in the little prisoner. 
 
 "I understand you, my friend," he said. 
 
 "Do you blame me?" 
 
 " No. Had I never met Emily Gilbert, I might 
 have been your rival." 
 
 Eolfe grasped his hand and exclaimed: 
 
 "Heaven bless you, Philip! I feared I would 
 meet with derision and ridicule did I declare my 
 love for the Indian maiden?" 
 
 " And wherefore should you?" 
 
 "She is of a savage race." 
 
 "She is a wild princess, reared in barbaric 
 splendor, and one whom a nobleman might be 
 proud to call wife." 
 
 "But there is one obstacle yet." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "She is a heathen." 
 
 " Convert her to Christianity. " 
 
 John Eolfe was thoughtful for a moment, then 
 said: 
 
 "I will do as you say, my friend; but if I 
 should succeed in winning her, will her captors 
 
THE YOUNG PRISONER. 253 
 
 give her up? Will the governor consent to our 
 union?" 
 
 "Why should he not? The marriage will be a 
 strong political alliance which will win the friend- 
 ship of Powhatan and his tribe, the most powerful 
 in all Virginia. " 
 
 " But may they not think that such an union 
 would give me a power in Virginia that would 
 make the king of England jealous of me?" 
 
 Philip Stevens, who did not understand the nat- 
 ure of King James as well as Eolfe, was inclined 
 to smile at this fear. Why would the king of 
 England be jealous of any power Eolfe might ob- 
 tain from his marriage with Powhatan's daughter?* 
 
 " Go now and win your princess if you can, my 
 good friend. She is more thau a princess ; for, sav- 
 age though she be, she has the heart of an angel." 
 
 Rolfe, encouraged by the words of Stevens, 
 determined to woo Pocahontas in earnest, and thus 
 commenced a courtship famous in history. 
 
 * Ridiculous as it may seem, the king was angry because 
 Rolfe, a common person, had married an Indian princess. 
 
CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 THE ROSE OF ENGLAND AND THE TOTEM OF 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 She was a landscape of mild earth, 
 "Where all was harmony and calm quiet, 
 Luxuriant budding. 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 "Hold! John Eolfe, whither are you bound?" 
 
 It was early morning, and the song of the thrush 
 and lark came from the woods about Jamestown. 
 Never did the English colony look more romantic, 
 more dreamy, as the blue smoke curled up from 
 the quaint little chimneys and floated off to mingle 
 with the soft atmosphere. John Eolfe had just 
 come from his house, his pale face expressing anx- 
 iety and care, as he hurried toward the bay. He 
 was half-way from his house to the water's edge, 
 when the voice of William More accosted him with 
 the above question. 
 
 Eolfe paused, thrust his thumb under his sword- 
 belt, and answered: 
 
 "I am going aboard the ship." 
 
 "Marry! My friend, methinks you go quite 
 254 
 
THE ROSE OF ENGLAND. 255 
 
 often aboard ship of late. Know ye there be some 
 strange talk about your visits, and many do say 
 that Powhatan's daughter has come to look with 
 soft eyes upon a certain gay Englishman?" 
 
 " Sweet Heaven grant it be so; then will I fetch 
 her from the prison ship and set her free," returned 
 Eolfe. 
 
 " Beware how you threaten to set at liberty the 
 prisoner of Argall!" cried More. "He is a stern, 
 bold man, so defy not his power." 
 
 "Peace! Insult not mine ears with his name," 
 and John Rolfe hastened away from More's pres- 
 ence. He paused under the great old chestnut, 
 beneath which Smith had rested when he took 
 his farewell look at the colony, and gazed over the 
 town. The scene was one of beauty and peace. 
 The busy little colony had worried and fretted 
 itself into a complete state of exhaustion, and 
 settled down to a condition of listless repose. A 
 drowsy, dreamy influence seemed to hang over 
 land and sea, pervading the atmosphere, which 
 was quite in contrast with the warfare raging in the 
 breast of John Eolfe. Strange thoughts distracted 
 his mind, and he murmured: 
 
 "Am I a thief to steal the heart not my own? 
 Shall I wed one who loves another, and that one 
 not a Christian?" 
 
 The boat for which he had signalled gained the 
 
256 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 shore, and, entering it, he was rowed to the ship 
 in which the captive lingered. Though a prisoner, 
 every comfort possible was allowed her. Her face 
 grew brighter at sight of Eolf e, and she hastened 
 to assure him how grateful she was for the visit. 
 
 "I have come to talk with you," said Eolfe. 
 
 "All my brother says is pleasant to me." 
 
 "I want to speak of love." 
 
 "To all races of people that is a delightful 
 theme. " 
 
 " Pocahontas, I love you, and with your per- 
 mission will appeal to Powhatan for his consent to 
 our marriage." 
 
 The- prisoner was startled by the suddenness of 
 this declaration. She felt - a tender attachment for 
 the young Englishman; but it was subordinate to 
 the wild passion she entertained for him she be- 
 lieved to be dead. Starting from her seat, she 
 walked to the opposite side of the narrow apart- 
 ment, and pressed her hand upon her heart. See- 
 ing her great emotion, Rolfe continued: 
 
 " This is sudden, and you are coy and undecided; 
 will you require time?" 
 
 She answered by asking: 
 
 "Is he truly dead?" 
 
 "Of whom do you speak?" 
 
 Eolfe well knew whom she meant; but he wished 
 to defer the fatal answer as long as possible. 
 
THE ROSE OF ENGLAND. 251 
 
 "Is Captain John Smith dead?" 
 
 " So I have been told. He was sorely wounded 
 by an explosion, and they say he died of his 
 wounds." 
 
 "I will be your wife." 
 
 " You must first consent to become a Christian 
 and worship the same God I do." 
 
 '"Teach me how to become a Christian." 
 
 Eolfe, with a lie fresh on his lips, proceeded to 
 instruct her in Christianity. He told her of the 
 great and good God who made all the earth, 
 sea, air and skies. Then he told her of Christ who 
 came down from Heaven to redeem the world from 
 sin, and suffered an ignominious death on the 
 cross. 
 
 " What must one do to become a Christian?" she 
 asked. 
 
 He instructed her in the articles of faith, and the 
 much-abused commandments of God. 
 
 "You must have no other gods," he explained. 
 " You must worship none other, and cease to pray 
 to the Great Spirit which is not God. You must 
 not kill-. " 
 
 "Does your God command you to not kill?" 
 
 "He does." 
 
 "And yet white men slay the poor Indians?" 
 
 "The Indians are unbelieving heathen, and are 
 not included in the commandments of God. " How 
 17 
 
258 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 easily man's sophistry can distort the meaning of 
 the word of God. 
 
 "But Christians kill each other?" she argued. 
 He explained that there were some bad men 
 among the whites — a fact she readily admitted — 
 and that they stood not in awe of God. He con- 
 tinued his instructions. "Thou shalt not steal. 
 Thou shalt not lie — " The sentence almost stuck in 
 his throat. The lesson for the day was finished, 
 and with feelings of mingled joy, triumph, and 
 remorse, Rolfe took his departure. The noon- 
 ing hour was over and the industrious colonists 
 were again at work. Once more the hills resounded 
 with the echoes of the woodman's axe. 
 
 Philip waited on the beach for the return of 
 Rolfe, to hear his report. 
 
 " Shall I congratulate you or not?" asked Philip. 
 "Your face presents contradictory statements. 
 Have you been successful?" 
 
 "In a measure, yes." 
 
 "Have you told Pocahontas of your love, as you 
 intended?" 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "And does she return it?" 
 
 "She says she does, and yet there is that in 
 her manner that leads me to believe she loves 
 another." 
 
 "And that other is Captain John Smith." 
 
THE ROSE OF ENGLAND. 259 
 
 "You who have been with them and noted 
 their attachment must know if my suspicions are 
 correct." 
 
 With his friend's hand in his own, Philip an- 
 swered: "It is true, Eolfe. I have been nearer to 
 the heart of Captain Smith than any other man, 
 and I know she loves him, and he loves her in re- 
 turn; but she will never see John Smith again. 
 Even if he does not die from his wounds, he will 
 never return from Virginia. He is a rival removed 
 so far away, he might be dead." 
 
 "Does he really live?" Eolfe asked. 
 
 "For aught I know he does." 
 
 " My conscience misgives me. If I wed Poca- 
 hontas, surely I will be stealing the affections of 
 another's bride." 
 
 "Trouble not yourself on that score," answered 
 Philip. " If she honestly knows that Smith still 
 lives and accepts you, she will make you a good 
 wife. Smith is gone. He is my dearest friend, 
 and the good Grod knows I would not wrong him ; 
 but he will never return to claim Pocahontas. She 
 even knows not his love, for he only treated her as 
 a daughter, and never whispered his love to her. 
 Go, woo her, and may Heaven bless your union!" 
 
 Philip Stevens did not understand that Poca- 
 hontas was being deceived into a marriage with 
 Eolfe. Had he known that they had told her that 
 
260 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Smith was dead, he would have informed her to 
 the contrary. 
 
 Philip went to his work, while John Eolfe, 
 stung by remorse, wandered aimlessly about the 
 town. He was not thoroughly a bad man, or he 
 would not have felt remorse of conscience. John 
 was ambitious, and, in order to become the husband 
 of the princess of Virginia, willingly acted out the 
 lie of Eadcliffe. 
 
 Eolfe went to the reverend Mr. Whitaker, whom 
 he found in his little study attached to the church. 
 "Is one ever justified in deception?" he asked. 
 With a significant glance at him, Mr. Whitaker 
 wanted to know why he asked such a question. 
 
 "My heart is sorely troubled, and I have come 
 to you for relief." 
 
 "What troubles you, my son?" 
 Eolfe told him of his affection for Pocahontas, 
 and his knowledge of her love for Smith. He told 
 everything except the false report of Smith's death. 
 It was only half a confession at best, and Mr. 
 Whitaker could see no wrong on his part, while he 
 thought a matrimonial alliance with the daughter 
 of Powhatan would insure peace, save many lives, 
 and add much to the glory of God. 
 
 " You think it proper that I should wed her?" 
 asked Eolfe. 
 
 " If your heart commends the act, her father con- 
 
THE ROSE OF ENGLAND. 261 
 
 sents, and the governor acquiesces in the marriage, 
 there can be no impropriety in it." 
 
 Eolfe went away with a much lighter heart than 
 he had come, and when he had gained his planta- 
 tion, the young Englishman had almost forgotten 
 John Smith. Next day he called on Pocahontas 
 in company with Mr. Whi taker, and together they 
 proceeded with their missionary work. They 
 labored zealously for the conversion of the little 
 princess. As yet none of the Indians had become 
 Christians; but Pocahontas was in a hopeful state, 
 and in a few days more her conversion was complete. 
 
 Eolfe appealed to Sir Thomas Gates, and she 
 was removed from the ship to the house of Mrs. 
 Baston, an English lady, who lived in Jamestown. 
 Pocahontas was now mistress of the English lan- 
 guage and, indeed, an intelligent, amiable young 
 lady. 
 
 One evening as Eolfe and Stevens strolled along 
 the banks of the James Eiver near the settlement, 
 discussing the coming marriage and the possibility 
 of gaining the consent of Powhatan and Dale, they 
 met William More } who, advancing toward them, 
 said: 
 
 " So you are going to wed Pocahontas, I hear. 
 Marry! what would Captain John Smith say if he 
 knew you took advantage of his absence in this 
 way?" 
 
262 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Eolfe's face grew pale, and lie would have as- 
 saulted More, had not Philip restrained him. 
 
 "Go hence, and heed not what yon meddler 
 says," Philip urged. 
 
 As Rolfe went away, More turned on Stevens 
 and, in a voice trembling with rage and hate, asked : 
 
 " Are you, too, lending your countenance to this 
 lie?" 
 
 Philip did not fully comprehend the meaning of 
 his question; but the manner in which the words 
 were spoken convinced him that an insult was in- 
 tended. He seized More by the throat and, chok- 
 ing him into silence, hissed: 
 
 "You knave! dare to interfere in this matter 
 and it will be to your sorrow." 
 
 More had a wholesome dread of the stout young 
 Spaniard, and forbore to interfere further by word 
 or suggestion. Soon after this event, in the little 
 chapel at Jamestown, whose columns were rough 
 pine trees from the forests, and its rude pews of the 
 sweet-smelling cedar, and its rough communion 
 table and pulpit of black walnut, that dusky con- 
 vert to Christianity — Pocahontas — knelt before the 
 font "hewn hollow between like a canoe," and 
 there received the rite of Christian baptism, with 
 the name of "Rebecca," at the hands of Mr. Whit- 
 aker. She was the first Christian Indian in Vir- 
 ginia. 
 
THE ROSE OF ENGLAND. 263 
 
 The above event occurred in the spring of 1613, 
 and shortly after Sir Thomas Dale, with one hundred 
 and fifty men, among whom were Philip Stevens 
 and Eolfe, set out with Pocahontas to visit Powha- 
 tan. On reaching Werowocomoco, they found the 
 emperor absent. A swarm of Indians appeared 
 on the banks of the river and shouted defiance. 
 
 " Have you come to fight?" they cried. " If so, 
 you are welcome, and you may remember the fate 
 of EadclifEe." 
 
 A cloud of arrows followed this bold announce- 
 ment, and one of the Englishmen was wounded; 
 whereupon Dale, who was a man of decision, pushed 
 ashore, killed some of the Indians, burnt their 
 cabins, and, re-embarking, sailed up the York, 
 looking for the emperor. 
 
 At an Indian village named Machot near the 
 present West Point, they found several hundred 
 Indians drawn up to receive them; but on landing 
 they fell back and agreed upon a truce until Pow- 
 hatan could be heard from. Eolfe, Sparks, and 
 Stevens were sent with a message to him. They 
 penetrated to his retreat in the woods; but the 
 emperor refused to grant them a personal inter- 
 view, though holding out vague promises, and the 
 emissaries returned to Dale at Machot. 
 
 Meanwhile an event had transpired to change all 
 of Dale's plans. Up to this time he had been 
 
264 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 wholly ignorant of the courtship of John Kolf e and 
 Pocahontas. He knew that the little maiden had 
 been converted to Christianity and was a firmer 
 friend than ever of the English; but the secret of 
 Eolfe's attachment had not yet reached his ears. 
 When Pocahontas landed at Machot, she scarcely 
 took any notice of her people. When her friends 
 and relatives came to talk with her, she said: 
 
 "If my father loved me, he would not value me 
 less than old swords, guns, and axes; wherefore I 
 will still dwell with the English, who do love 
 me." 
 
 The meaning of this ambiguous remark was soon 
 apparent to Dale. Two of her brothers hastened to 
 meet her; one of them, NantaquaUs, whom Smith 
 described as "the most manliest, comeliest, boldest 
 spirit he ever saw in a savage," expressed the ut- 
 most delight at again seeing her. Pocahontas took 
 Nantaquaus into her confidence, and informed him 
 that she was going to marry one of the Englishmen, 
 — a Master John Rolfe. The Indian told the secret 
 to Dale, who thus heard it for the first time. This 
 was just after the return of Philip, Rolfe, and Sparks 
 from their fruitless embassy to Powhatan. Dale at 
 once sent for Rolfe, to whom he said: 
 
 "I have been informed that it is your design to 
 wed Pocahontas." 
 
 "Such is my intention, and I wrote you a long 
 
THE ROSE OF ENGLAND. 265 
 
 letter asking your advice, which letter I confided 
 to Master Eaphe Hamor." 
 
 " He hath just delivered it, yet I had learned of 
 it before from the brother of Pocahontas." 
 
 "Does the union meet your approval?" 
 
 " It does, for I see in this coming marriage the 
 promise of peace and good-will between the two 
 races, and I shall abandon all hostile designs, and 
 return to Jamestown, to await the event." 
 
 "Will you take Pocahontas with you?" asked 
 Eolfe, who feared to have his affianced left with 
 her relatives, lest they should not allow her to come 
 to him. 
 
 ' ' Marry ! she would not remain with her people, ' ' 
 cried Dale. 
 
 "Had not we better obtain the consent of Pow- 
 hatan?" Eolfe asked. 
 
 " It shall be done. I have no doubt but that the 
 old chief will give his assent, and I will send mes- 
 sengers at once to him to obtain it." 
 
 The faithful brother Nantaquaus and Philip 
 Stevens agreed to go alone to the emperor and lay 
 before him the matrimonial project. They did so, 
 and the emperor's consent was readily gained. 
 
 "I assure you that henceforth we will be the 
 friends of Powhatan," said Philip in conclusion. 
 With a mysterious shake of the head, the wily old 
 chief answered: 
 
266 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 " The white man is uncertain. He kills his own 
 brother, and if he should get me in his power he 
 might destroy me." 
 
 Philip Stevens pondered long over the mysterious 
 sentence. What did he mean by the white man 
 "kills his own brother"? It was not until he 
 learned that Kadcliffe and others had reported to 
 Powhatan and Pocahontas that Smith was dead 
 that he fully comprehended the remark. Powha- 
 tan consented to allow his sons to go and be wit- 
 nesses to the marriage; but he would not risk him- 
 self within the home of the white men. On 
 learning from Philip Stevens that his daughter had 
 received the rite of Christian baptism, taking the 
 name of Eebecca, Powhatan made known her real 
 name, which was Matoaka. The reason it was so 
 long kept a secret was that the Indians had a 
 peculiar superstition, called the superstition of the 
 evil mouth, just as they likewise had one called the 
 superstition of the evil eye. The meaning of it 
 was that the speaking of one's real name by some 
 lips, like the gazing upon one by some eyes, would 
 not fail to result in evil. It was believed that 
 certain persons were capable of holding a fatal 
 spell over others, from which it was impossible for 
 the latter at all times to escape. Hence another 
 name was given to this Indian damsel, and her 
 own was buried in secrecy. If the whites pro- 
 
THE ROSE OF ENGLAND. 267 
 
 nounced the word Matoaka, she might receive great 
 harm ; but Pocahontas was a name they might take 
 upon their lips with freedom and impunity. Her 
 assumed name is the one by which she is generally 
 known in history, and certainly it is most dear to 
 all Christian people. 
 
 Very soon after their return to Jamestown, 
 Pocahontas again stood before the chancel of the 
 little chapel, this time a bride. It was a charming 
 day in April, 1613. Though her father had re- 
 fused to attend the wedding, he sent his brother 
 Opachisco to give away his daughter according to 
 the Christian ritual. Over the "fair broad win- 
 dows" hung festoons of evergreens, bedecked with 
 wild flowers, with the waxen leaves and scarlet 
 berries of the holly. The communion table was 
 covered with a "fair, white linen cloth," and bore 
 bread from the wheat fields around Jamestown and 
 wine from the luscious grapes in the adjacent 
 woods. All the people of Jamestown were specta- 
 tors of the nuptials. There were Sir Thomas 
 Gates, Master Parks, and Philip Stevens, who bad 
 been embassadors with Kolfe to the court of Pow- 
 hatan. Young George Percy and Henry Spilman 
 were there; and near them, an earnest watcher of the 
 ceremony, was the elder brother of Pocahontas, as 
 well as the younger brother and many youths and 
 maidens from the forest. There, too, was Mis- 
 
368 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 tress John Eolfe, Mrs. Eastern and child, Mrs. Horton 
 and grandchild, with her late maid-servant, Eliza- 
 beth Parsons, who, on Christmas eve previously, 
 had married Thomas Powel. These were all the 
 English women then in Virginia, and all returned 
 to Europe. 
 
 When all things were in readiness, the bride and 
 groom entered the chapel. Pocahontas was dressed 
 in a simple tunic of white muslin from the looms 
 of Dacca. Her arms were bare to the shoulders, 
 and hanging loosely to her feet was a robe of rich 
 stuff presented her by Sir Thomas Dale and fanci- 
 fully embroidered by herself and her maidens. A 
 gaudy fillet encircled her head, and held the gay 
 plumage of birds and a veil of gauze, while her 
 wrists were adorned with the simple jewelry of her 
 native workshops. 
 
 Eolfe was attired in the costume of an English 
 cavalier of that period, and upon his thigh he wore 
 the short sword of a gentleman of distinction. He 
 was a noble specimen of manly beauty and dignity 
 in form and carriage, and she of womanly modesty 
 and lovely simplicity. Upon the chancel steps, 
 where no railing interfered, the good Mr. Whitaker 
 stood in sacerdotal robes and, with an impressive 
 voice, pronounced the marriage ritual of the Angli- 
 can Church. The governor, sitting on his right 
 in a richly covered chair of state, with his ever- 
 
THE MARRIAGE OF TOCAHOXTAS. 
 
THE ROSE OF ENGLAND. 269 
 
 attendant halberdiers with helmets at his back. 
 
 heartily said, "Amen!" at the conclusion of the 
 ceremony. So were wedded the Eose of England 
 and the Totem of Virginia, giving promise of a 
 friendly union of the races. 
 
 Of course the marriage of Pocahontas created 
 great excitement both in Virginia and England. 
 Dale, who took much of the credit of the affair to 
 himself and determined to still further distinguish 
 himself, despatched a messenger to Powhatan to 
 demand of him his other daughter, saying that 
 Pocahontas greatly desired the company of her 
 younger sister. The message also stated that his 
 brother Dale had heard of the. fame of Powhatan's 
 younger daughter and intended to marry her to 
 some English gentleman, which would be highly 
 pleasing and agreeable to her sister, who greatly 
 desired to have her near her. 
 
 Powhatan answered: 
 
 "1 hold it not to be a brotherly part to endeavor 
 to bereave me of my two darling children at once! 
 For my part, I desire no further assurance of Dale's 
 friendship than his promise. Of my friendship, 
 the English have a sufficient pledge in one of my 
 daughters, which pledge as long as she lives will 
 be sufficient, and, should she die, then he can have 
 another. Tell him further," added the aged chief, 
 "that if there were no pledge, there need be no 
 
270 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 fear of me or my people. We have had enough 
 war. Too many have been slain on both sides. 
 With my will, there shall be no more. I have the 
 power here, and I have given the law to my people. 
 I am now grown old, and I would end my days in 
 peace. My country is large enough for both, and, 
 even though you give me cause of quarrel, I would 
 rather go away from you than fight with you. 
 Take this answer to my brother." 
 
 The youngest child was not obtained as Dale 
 unf eel ingly designed . Pocahontas had had nothing 
 to do with the plan, not even requesting her sister's 
 presence. 
 
 As Sir Thomas Dale had predicted, the alliance 
 brought the blessings of peace. The tribe of 
 Chickahominies, the fiercest of all the Indians, 
 sent an embassy to conclude a treaty by which they 
 were to become Englishmen and subjects of the 
 English king. This union of the two races was 
 consummated in the midst of general rejoicing. 
 
 After his marriage, John Rolfe lived for a while 
 with his beautiful wife at Jamestown. Pocahontas 
 was honored as she deserved, and she was cheerful 
 and happy. If her husband sometimes found those 
 soft dark eyes growing sad and moist at the name 
 of Smith, he consoled himself with the thought 
 that she was now truly his own. 
 
 One day Rolfe was met by Francis and William 
 
THE ROSE OF ENGLAND. 271 
 
 More. The former, who had always been a mis- 
 chief-maker, said: 
 
 "Hath your bride learned that her first love yet 
 lives?" 
 
 "Beware, Francis, how you tempt me! I will 
 not take your insults." 
 
 "Should she know, John Eolfe, that you have 
 acted a lie, where would be the love she bears for 
 you?" 
 
 "Villain! dare to breathe a word that will in- 
 terfere with my happiness, and I will run you 
 through." 
 
 Francis saw danger in the flash of the young 
 husband's eye, and hastened away. A few mo- 
 ments later Philip came to his friend, whose flushed 
 face and flashing eye betrayed his wrath. 
 
 "What has gone amiss?" Philip asked. 
 
 " The knave said my happiness would be at an 
 end if my wife knew that Smith lived." 
 
 "Does she not know it?" Philip asked. Rolfe 
 could not admit that he had been guilty of acting 
 out a lie. Philip had been Eolfe's dearest friend 
 and loved him as a brother; but he would not 
 tolerate falsehood even in a friend. 
 
 "John Rolfe, answer me, did you tell her that 
 Captain John Smith was dead?" 
 
 "As Grod is my judge, no!" he answered. 
 
 "Did others?" 
 
272 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "She believes him dead." 
 
 "And you did not undeceive her?" 
 
 ■"No." . 
 
 Philip turned away; but Eolfe seized his arm. 
 
 "Don't be angry." 
 
 "John, you have deceived her; you are not 
 worthy to be called friend." 
 
 "Nay, be not so cruel. My punishment is 
 greater than I can bear." 
 
 "Away, Eolfe! Deceit, even to obtain Poca- 
 hontas, is unworthy of you. It will yet react to 
 your sorrow, and bitterly will you repent that you 
 had not honestly told her the truth at first." 
 
 "Will you tell her that Smith lives?" 
 
 "No, I will never dare to look on that face, and 
 I wonder that you can." 
 
 Philip Stevens hurried away ; perhaps he was 
 too severe with Eolfe, who made Pocahontas a 
 good husband. After a short residence at James- 
 town they removed to his plantation near the city 
 of Henricus. They were living at Varina when 
 their child Thomas Eolfe was born. Pocahontas 
 made a model wife and mother. She dearly loved 
 her child. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 DEATH OF POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Come to the bridal chamber, death. 
 
 Come to the mother, when she feels, 
 For the first time, her firstborn's breath ; 
 
 Come when the blessed seals 
 That close the pestilence are broke, 
 And crowded cities wail its stroke ; 
 Come in consumption's ghastly form, 
 The earthquake's shock, the ocean's storm ; 
 Come when the heart beats high and warm 
 
 With banquet, song, and dance, and wine ; 
 
 And thou art terrible 
 
 — Halleck. 
 
 Sir Thomas Dale planned a visit to England, 
 and conceived the idea of taking Pocahontas, her 
 son and husband with him. Surely this accession 
 to the English crown would heap honors on his 
 head. He was so elated over the marriage of Rolfe 
 and Pocahontas that he wrote from Jamestown to 
 England, on the 18th of June, 1614, among others 
 things saying: 
 
 "I caused to be carefully instructed in the Christian 
 religion Powhatan's daughter, who, after she had made 
 18 273 
 
374 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 much progress therein, renounced publicly her country's 
 idolatry, openly confessed her Christian faith, was, as 
 she desired, baptized, and is since married to an English 
 gentleman of good understanding — another knot to bind 
 the knot the stronger. Her father and friends gave ap- 
 probation of it and her uncle gave her to him in the 
 church. She lives civilly and lovingly with him, and, 
 I trust, will increase in goodness as the knowledge of God 
 increaseth in her. She will go into England with me, 
 and were it but the gaining of this one such I will think 
 my time, toil, and present stay well spent. " 
 
 The year before this letter, Argall had sailed 
 away to explore the Chesapeake, and took in his 
 ship Philip Stevens. Before leaving, Philip saw 
 Eolfe and their quarrel was made up. 
 
 "I was hasty," Philip admitted. "I had for- 
 gotten that your crime was prompted by your great 
 love. Forgive my harshness and quick temper." 
 
 "You are forgiven. I feel the justice of your 
 reproofs. I never gaze into my wife's dark eyes, 
 that I am not haunted with the memory of Smith. 
 Does he live?" 
 
 "He does. I had a letter from him by the last 
 ship." 
 
 "Does he contemplate returning to Jamestown?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then Heaven be praised!" 
 
 " He is going to take service with the Ply- 
 mouth company to explore and colonize North 
 Virginia." 
 
DEATH OF POCAHONTAS. 275 
 
 "That will bring him too near Jamestown." 
 
 "Why need you fear him? You have your 
 wife, and Pocahontas is not one to slight a mar- 
 riage vow." 
 
 "I have no such fears; but should that angelic 
 being know I had kept the truth from her, I fear 
 the result. To her John Smith is dead. Should 
 they suddenly meet, the shock would kill her." 
 
 "Then pray God they may never meet." 
 
 Philip sailed with Argall, and Rolfe returned to 
 his home. Never had man a happier home, or 
 more lovely wife. Should she know he had de- 
 ceived her, would she still love him? When their 
 child was born it was a link to more closely unite 
 them, and the devotion of the mother to her son 
 assured him that his princess had forgotten John 
 Smith. 
 
 One day, on returning after a short absence, 
 Pocahontas said: 
 
 " Governor Dale was here, imploring us to ac- 
 company him to England." 
 
 "To England!" cried Rolfe, with a guilty start. 
 "I don't want to go to England." 
 
 "Why?" she asked, opening wide her great 
 dark eyes. " I thought you wished to return to 
 your native land." 
 
 "Do you want to go?" he asked. 
 
 " I do. I have heard so much of that country, 
 
276 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 I would like to see it. The cities, houses and peo- 
 ple are more numerous than the sands of the sea, or 
 leaves of the forest." 
 
 Pocahontas was quite enthusiastic for the jour- 
 ney, and Rolfe became alarmed. Should she go 
 to England and meet Smith, his deception would 
 be known to his wife. He who had gently led 
 her from heathendom to the true faith, who had 
 taught her the ten commandments, would be proven 
 a deceiver. The discovery that he whom she had 
 thought noble and Christlike was a liar might 
 make her doubt the very doctrine he had taught. 
 He strove to keep her mind from the subject of 
 England, and would have succeeded had not Gov- 
 ernor Dale, in order to gratify his vanity, deter- 
 mined that Pocahontas should go. When Rolfe 
 flattered himself that the subject had passed from 
 his wife's mind, they were both summoned before 
 the governor. Rolfe knew the object of the in- 
 terview; but there was no way to avoid it; so they 
 set out to Jamestown. 
 
 Dale greeted Pocahontas like a princess, and, 
 when the formalities were over, explained: 
 
 " I have designed a voyage to England in which 
 you are to accompany me." 
 
 Rolfe, who had feared as much, interposed : 
 
 "My wife is not strong enough for 1 such a 
 voyage." 
 
DEATH OF POCAHONTAS. 277 
 
 Pocahontas turned her eyes in mute appeal to 
 her husband. 
 
 "Not strong enough ! Prythee, wherefore is she 
 not strong enough ? ' ' asked the governor. ' ' Marry ! 
 she seems in the best of health." 
 
 "She is not accustomed to long, tedious voyages 
 across the ocean." 
 
 " She shall have the best stateroom in the ship, 
 and all will go merrily, I'll warrant, Master Eolfe, 
 if you but give your consent." 
 
 Pocahontas was as eager for the voyage as a 
 schoolgirl for a picnic. She joined her gentle 
 pleading to the entreaties of the governor, and 
 Eolfe realized he would have to yield. 
 
 "John Eolfe, wherefore do you object to your 
 wife going to England ? Are you ashamed of her?" 
 
 "No," answered Eolfe indignantly. "There 
 are dangers in a voyage to England which my great 
 love prompts me to avoid." 
 
 Not understanding Eolfe's dread, the governor 
 attributed it to dangers of the sea, and said: 
 
 "The man's love hath made a coward of him." 
 
 Eolfe yielded more readily on learning that Cap- 
 tain Smith was on the coast of Northern Virginia. 
 
 "Surely, if he be there, she will not meet him, 
 and even though she may learn that he lives, the 
 knowledge will awaken less regret." 
 
 Every arrangement for the voyage was made, 
 
278 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 and in the spring of 1616 Dale set sail from James- 
 town for England, taking Eolfe and his wife and 
 child with him. After a pleasant voyage they 
 landed atGravesend. 
 
 It chanced that Captain John Smith, who had 
 been captured off the Azores, had just returned to 
 France and received from the king the appoint- 
 ment of "Admiral of New England." Smith was 
 a favorite of Prince Charles, afterward the unfor- 
 tunate Charles I. He was making preparations 
 to sail again for New England when Pocahontas 
 arrived at Gravesend, and her presence in England 
 revived all his old affections. Though he deter- 
 mined not to see her himself, he wrote a letter to 
 Queen Anne, warmly recommending her to the 
 royal favor, and declared that he would be guilty 
 of the "deadly poison of ingratitude" if he omit- 
 ted any occasion to record her merit. More than 
 once she had saved his life, first by "hazarding 
 the beating out of her brains to save his," and 
 again by "stealing through the dark night and 
 irksome woods," to warn him of an intended at- 
 tack. Her services to Virginia had been as great 
 as to those to himself. She had been the instru- 
 ment under God, to preserve the colony from de- 
 struction, and he invoked the royal favor as due to- 
 iler "great spirit, her desert, birth, want, and sim- 
 plicity." 
 
DEATH OF POCAHONTAS. 279 
 
 The letter at once attracted attention to Poca- 
 hontas, and she was treated as the daughter of a 
 king. Her arrival in London produced a wonder- 
 ful sensation. She was that strange New World 
 personified in the gracious form of a little woman 
 of twenty-one. Her brown beauty was of a type 
 as strange and new as the land from whence she 
 came, and her black hair, though rather straight for 
 the English taste, was praised for its comeliness. 
 She became the favorite of all the fashionable 
 people of London; but all the flattery heaped so 
 bounteously upon her failed to turn her little head. 
 The courtiers called upon her, and went away with 
 the declaration that they had seen a great many 
 English ladies less attractive in face and manners. 
 The curious eyes of the fine ladies and gentlemen 
 of London noticed the fact that there was no 
 trace of awkwardness or embarrassment in her 
 manner. 
 
 Lady De la Ware presented her at court, where 
 she was "graciously used" by the king and queen. 
 They invited her to be present at the masques, and 
 the Bishop of London, who was delighted at the 
 conversion of the young Indian princess to Christi- 
 anity, gave an entertainment in her honor which 
 was replete with splendor. This fine life in Lon- 
 don, with its rich costumes and brilliant flambeaux, 
 its gilded coaches and high revelry, was in curious 
 
280 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 contrast with the early life of Pocahontas in the 
 Virginia woods. 
 
 Their pleasure was marred by King James, who 
 was foolishly jealous of Eolfe for having married a 
 princess. The very trouble which Eolfe had 
 feared became a reality. Monarchs have always 
 been jealous of the common people, and Pocahon- 
 tas was a princess, whom it was a great presump- 
 tion on the part of Eolfe, possessing no gentle 
 blood in his veins, to marry. According to the 
 theory of the time, the alliance was important, for 
 if Yirginia descended to Pocahontas, as it might at 
 Powhatan's death, the kingdom would be vested 
 in Eolfe' s posterity. 
 
 Some friends of Eolfe went so far as to warn 
 him to beware of the king; but there was an- 
 other calamity, more to be feared than any danger 
 from King James. Eolfe learned of the return of 
 Captain John Smith. Never since his marriage 
 had he mentioned that name in the presence of his 
 wife. Did she know that he lived, or was she still 
 in ignorance? 
 
 They were at Brentford with a number of friends, 
 and seemingly perfectly happy. Why should they 
 not be? Pocahontas was courted and petted by 
 all. The queen had kissed her child, and nobles 
 and ladies of the highest rank in the world had 
 sought her acquaintance. It was a proud period 
 
DEATH OF POCAHONTAS. 281 
 
 for Eolfe. He who, had sprung from the common 
 people, now as the husband of a princess found 
 himself receiving honors which a duke might envy. 
 If he had sometimes felt a dread foreboding of the 
 future, it was dissipated by merriment. 
 
 One day Captain John Smith, the Admiral of 
 New England, was announced. Eolfe felt that 
 the supreme moment had come. How would she 
 bear it? His future happiness or misery depended 
 on the next hour. He found his wife's eyes fixed 
 on him with an inquiring look. 
 
 "John Smith/ Is he not dead?" she asked. 
 
 "Such I heard; but I was ill informed," the 
 guilty husband answered. 
 
 There was no time to say more, for Smith was 
 ushered into her presence and, coldly touching the 
 - tips of her fingers, said : 
 
 "My lady Rebecca." 
 
 The greeting and the look were so full of mild 
 reproof, that for a moment Pocahontas silently 
 gazed into the eyes of the man whom she had long 
 mourned as dead. She read the past in a second 
 of thought. The guilty look in her husband's 
 face told her all, and it seemed as if her heart were 
 breaking. Tricked, held in captivity, and de- 
 ceived by the man who professed to love her into 
 a marriage — who can wonder that she was speech- 
 less? The flood of recollections, the whirlwind of 
 
282 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 emotions which overcame her at that moment were 
 too much for even her stoical Indian nature. 
 Burying her face in her hands, she turned away 
 and sank into a chair, where for two hours she 
 sobbed and wept, though both her husband and 
 Smith did all in their power to compose her. 
 
 "What meaneth her strange emotion?" 
 
 "Alas, I know not," answered Eolfe, adding 
 another lie to his list. All the while he was 
 mentally ejaculating: "God in Heaven, help me 
 now! That which I most dreaded has come to 
 pass! That against the coming of which I have 
 prayed so long has happened! I cannot bear this 
 blow!" 
 
 Eolfe brought their child, with which he sought 
 to soothe the mother. After two hours she was 
 somewhat restored to herself, and, turning to 
 Smith, said: 
 
 "My father." 
 
 "Nay, nay, lady Rebecca, do not call me fa- 
 ther," answered Smith. "The king only is sire." 
 
 "I will call you father." 
 
 "It will anger the king." 
 
 To which she answered: 
 
 "You did promise Powhatan that what was 
 yours should be his, and he the like to you. You 
 called him father, being in his land a stranger, and 
 by the same reason must I do you. Were you 
 
DEATH OF POCAHONTAS. 283 
 
 afraid to come into my father's country, and cause 
 fear in him and all his people (but me), and fear 
 you here that I will call you father? I tell you 
 then I will, and you shall call me child, and so I 
 will be for ever and ever your countrywoman. 
 They did tell us always that you were dead, and 
 I never knew better till I came to Plymouth. Yet 
 Powhatan did command Uttamatomak-kin to seek 
 you, and know the truth, because your country- 
 men will lie." 
 
 As she concluded her speech her eyes, full of 
 rebuke, were fixed on her husband. Never did 
 glance and words more surely penetrate the heart 
 of man. Eolfe shrank from her as he would from 
 a blast of death. Captain Smith, generous and 
 kind to the last, felt more pity than anger for the 
 man who had robbed him of his love. 
 
 By degrees Pocahontas regained her composure 
 and at the parting was quite calm, so that Eolfe 
 began to take hope that the shock he had so much 
 dreaded would not after all be so great. When 
 alone she turned her sad, accusing eyes upon him, 
 and, in a voice that was strangely calm, yet firm, 
 said: 
 
 "You deceived me." 
 
 "Forgive me, Pocahontas," Eolfe began. 
 
 "How could you do so?" she asked. 
 
 "I heard he was dead." 
 
284 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "Yet you knew it was a lie. Your guilty looks 
 tell me you did." 
 
 " Pocahontas, do you know what prompted me 
 to deceive you?" 
 
 "I do- not." 
 
 "My strong love for you." 
 
 "One cannot so cruelly wrong one whom they 
 so love." 
 
 "Forgive me," he meekly pleaded. 
 
 She trembled, but was silent. Rolfe again ap- 
 pealed to her, but she spoke not. It seemed as if 
 her life were going out, as does the light of a lamp 
 from which the oil has been exhausted. He 
 brought their child, and, seated by his wife, held 
 up the little bond of love and union as a peace- 
 offering. She clasped her babe in her arms, while 
 her tears fell silently on the infant's upturned face. 
 From that day a great change came over Poca- 
 hontas. She was shy and reserved. No longer 
 her sparkling eyes and bewitching face graced the 
 ball-room; no longer did she flit as a brilliant 
 butterfly among the people of fashion. Not an- 
 other word of censure did she ever breathe against 
 her husband; yet often when alone the little martyr 
 to her affections murmured: 
 
 "He lied to me! Oh, he deceived me!" 
 
 Had Eolfe made a manly confession of all before 
 their marriage the result would have been different. 
 
DEATH OF POCAHONTAS. B85 
 
 The discovery that one who had led her from the 
 dark border of heathendom into the sunlight of 
 Christianity did so with a lie on his lips, went 
 farther toward wrecking her young life than her 
 great disappointment in love. 
 
 The young wife shrank from public gaze, pre- 
 ferring the retirement of her own chamber to the 
 gilded halls of fashion and beauty. Lord and 
 Lady De la "Ware were the companions of Kolf e and 
 his wife. It soon became apparent that her health 
 was failing, and attributing it to a longing for her 
 native land, they suggested an early return. The 
 good ship George was almost ready, and they em- 
 barked for Yirginia. That same evening, while 
 the vessel lay at Gravesend, Pocahontas was sud- 
 denly seized with a dizziness and would have fallen 
 had not her husband caught her in his arms. 
 
 "I am going to die," she murmured, when she 
 had partially recovered from the fainting fit. 
 
 A few hours later, John Eolfe saw his beloved 
 Pocahontas ("Bright Stream between two Hills") 
 breathe her last. As he gazed on the form of his 
 dead wife, he groaned: 
 
 " I deserve my punishment ; but, oh ! it is greater 
 than I can bear." 
 
 She was buried in the chancel of the church at 
 Gravesend on the 21st clay of March, 1617. When 
 every mourner had gone from the spot, and the 
 
286 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 dark shadows of night began to gather over the 
 scene, a man muffled in a cloak, stole from the 
 darkness, and, falling on his knees by the side of 
 the new-made grave, besprinkled it with his tears, 
 and, kissing the cold earth, sobbed: 
 
 "Best in peace, thou who knew so little of peace 
 on earth!" 
 
 That man was the gallant soldier, Captain John 
 Smith. 
 
 Eolfe was almost paralyzed with grief at the 
 death of his wife. He left his son Thomas Eolfe 
 with Sir Lewis Stukley to rear and educate, and 
 then returned to Jamestown. The death of Poca- 
 hontas was registered in the church parish, after 
 the careless fashion of the time, as "Rebecca 
 Wrothe." The church was afterward destroyed 
 by fire, and to-day the exact spot of her grave is 
 unknown. 
 
 Pocahontas was probably born in 1595, ajid was 
 only twenty-two years of age when she died. 
 Hers was a brief and pathetic career which has 
 appealed to the human heart of every generation 
 since her story first became known. She, so gen- 
 erous, brave, and gentle, was doomed to disappoint- 
 ment, and died of a broken heart. 
 
 Her son Thomas Eolfe was brought up in Lon- 
 don by an uncle. When a young man he went to 
 Virginia, and, as Lieutenant Eolfe, commanded 
 
EEATH OF POCAHONTAS. 287 
 
 Port James on the Chickahominy. At twenty-six 
 he applied to the governor for permission to visit 
 his grand-uncle Opechancanough and his aunt 
 Cleopatria, who were still denizens of the forest on 
 York Eiver. He married a young English lady 
 and became a gentleman of note and fortune in 
 Virginia, and some of the most respectable families 
 in the State are descended from him. 
 
 John Eandolph of Roanoke, the eminent Ameri- 
 can statesman, who died in Philadelphia, June 24, 
 1833, was a direct descendant of Pocahontas, and 
 proud of Ms Indian blood. His manner of walk- 
 ing and the peculiar brightness of his eyes are 
 said to have betrayed his origin. According to 
 his own saying, he came of a race that never for- 
 got nor forgave an injury. He was sixth in descent 
 from Pocahontas, through Jane Rolfe, her grand- 
 daughter. 
 
 It is curious to note that the blood of Powhatan 
 should thus mingle with that of his old enemies. 
 Dead for many a day, and asleep in his grave at 
 Orapfix, the savage old emperor still spoke in the 
 voice of his great descendant, the orator of Roa- 
 noke. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WEETCHED ACADIA. 
 
 Oh, force of faith ! Oh, strength of virtuous will ! 
 Behold him in his endless martyrdom, 
 
 Triumphant still, 
 The curse still burning in his heart and brain. 
 
 And yet he doth remain 
 Patient the while, and tranquil and content ; 
 The pious soul hath framed unto itself 
 
 A second nature to exist in pain 
 As in its own alloted element. 
 
 — Southey. 
 
 The reader will bear in mind that Philip Stevens 
 was the pilot selected by Argall to accompany him 
 in the exploration of the Chesapeake and the At- 
 lantic coast. 
 
 Before relating the incidents of that eventful 
 voyage, it will be necessary to understand some- 
 thing of events transpiring at this period on the 
 northern part of the Atlantic coast. Spain and 
 Holland were not England's only rivals in the New 
 World. 
 
 When Melendez expelled the Huguenots from 
 Florida, there were other Frenchmen who began to 
 288 
 
WRETCHED ACADIA. 289 
 
 turn their attention to the New World. Among the 
 earliest of the new French adventurers was the 
 Marquis de la Koche, a wealthy nobleman, who 
 gathered a company from the prisons of France 
 wherewith to found a colony in America. He 
 sailed with a single ship in the spring of 1598, 
 and landed on Sable Island in the Atlantic, ninety 
 miles southeast of Nova Scotia, where he left forty 
 men and returned to France for supplies. Before 
 he was ready to go back he suddenly sickened and 
 died, and for seven years the poor emigrants heard 
 nothing from home. When a vessel was finally 
 sent for them, only twelve out of the forty re- 
 mained. 
 
 While this colony of convicts was on Sable 
 Island, another expedition was sent from France 
 on a similar errand. M. de Chastes, governor of 
 Dieppe, obtained from the king a charter for found- 
 ing settlements in New France. He engaged 
 Samuel Champlain of the French navy, a man of 
 noble lineage and a favorite of the sovereign, to 
 act as his delegate. The king commissioned 
 Champlain Lieutenant-General of Canada, and with 
 this authority he embarked at Honfleur on the 
 15th of March, 1603, with a single vessel, com- 
 manded by Pont-Greve, a skilful mariner of St. 
 Malo, whose father had been a friend of the ex- 
 plorer Cartier. They reached the St. Lawrence in 
 19 
 
290 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 May and anchored near the site of Quebec, when 
 Pont-Greve, with five men, went up that stream in 
 a canoe to the rapids of La Chine, above Montreal. 
 Then he turned back, carefully examining the 
 shores of the river, and, reaching the ship, gave 
 Champlain a minute account of all they had ob- 
 served. Meanwhile Champlain had held inter- 
 course with the savages, whose memories and tradi- 
 tions ran as far back as Cartier the kidnapper; but 
 they were placable and not the least inclined to be 
 revengeful. Champlain returned to France in 
 early autumn and published an account of the 
 country. 
 
 On the return of the voyagers, they found M. 
 Chastes dead and the concession transferred by the 
 king to Pierre de Cast, the Sieur de Monts, a 
 wealthy Huguenot, who had received the commis- 
 sion of viceroy, with full power for settlement and 
 rule over six degrees of latitude in America, ex- 
 tending from that of Cape May to the parallel of 
 Quebec. That region was named in the charter 
 L' Acadia, a corruption of the Greek Arcadia. 
 The charter was published in all the maritime 
 towns in France, and soon afterward De Monts and 
 his associates were vested with the monopoly of the 
 fur and peltry trade of his domain and around the 
 Gulf of St. Lawrence. A new arrangement was 
 made with Champlain, and early in March. 1604, 
 
WRETCHED ACADIA. 291 
 
 De Monts, with his bosom friend Poutrincourt and 
 Pont-Greve as his lieutenants and Champlain for 
 pilot, sailed from France with, four vessels well 
 manned and a goodly crew of Protestants and 
 Eoman Catholic emigrants. Among the latter 
 were several Jesuits. They reached the St. Law- 
 rence in April, when they found the river ice-bound 
 and the weather so cold that the viceroy determined 
 to plant his settlement further to the southward. 
 They passed around Cape Breton and Nova Scotia 
 into the Bay of Fundy, and on the southern shores 
 of the peninsula they anchored early in May in a 
 fine harbor environed by hills and meadows. 
 Poutrincourt was so charmed by the appearance of 
 the country that De Monts allowed him to remain 
 with some of the emigrants. He gave him a grant 
 of the region, which was confirmed by the king, 
 and Poutrincourt named the place where he landed 
 Port Royal. It is to-day called Annapolis in Nova 
 Scotia. De Monts and the rest of the company, 
 seventy in number, crossed over to Passamaquoddy 
 Bay, and, on an island not far from the mouth of 
 the St. Croix River, the eastern boundary of 
 Maine, they landed and built a fort with a chapel 
 in it, mounted cannon on it, and there passed the 
 severe winter. Half of them were dead in the 
 spring, when the survivors explored the country 
 westward as far as Cape Cod, and then returned to 
 
293 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Port Eoyal, where they joined Poutrincourt's 
 colony. In early autumn De Monts and Poutrin- 
 court returned to France, leaving Champlain and 
 Pont-Greve to make further explorations of the 
 region. They went southward as far as Cape Cod, 
 where they attempted to land and erect a cross, but 
 were driven back to their vessel by the . Indians. 
 In 1607, Champlain returned to France. 
 
 For years there was a struggle for existence on 
 the part of the colonists in Acadia. Poutrincourt 
 waged a wordy war with the Jesuit priests who 
 accompanied him back to that land. They claimed 
 the right to supreme rule by virtue of their holy 
 office; but he, stoutly resisting their claims, boldly 
 told them: 
 
 "It is my part to rule you on earth; it is your 
 part to guide me to heaven." 
 
 On returning to France, Poutrincourt left his 
 son in charge of the colony, and they made the 
 same demand of the son they had of the father. 
 Driven to exasperation, the fiery young man 
 threatened them with coiporal punishment, where- 
 upon the Jesuits withdrew and settled on the island 
 of Mount Desert, now so famous as a summer re 
 sort, and set up a cross in token of their sov- 
 ereignty. 
 
 De Monts was not disposed to contend with the 
 powerful English companies; but, obtaining a new 
 
WRETCHED ACADIA. 293 
 
 charter with ample provisions, he proceeded to 
 plant a colony on the St. Lawrence. In 1608 two 
 vessels were fitted out, freighted with colonists and 
 supplies, and were navigated under the direc- 
 tion of Pont-Greve, with Ghamplain as governor. 
 They were directed to found a settlement at 
 Tadousac on the St. Lawrence, near the mouth of 
 the Saguenay River, and arrived at that point on 
 the third of June. Perceiving that it was not a 
 good place for a colony, Champlain directed Pont- 
 Greve to sail further up the river. They entered 
 the St. Lawrence, where Cartier had left one of his 
 vessels, and on its banks, at the foot of a rocky 
 promontory, he chose the place for a settlement, and 
 there laid the foundation for the city of Quebec. 
 The name is an Indian word signifying "the nar- 
 rows," and is pronounced Kebec. That was the 
 first permanent French settlement planted in Amer- 
 ica. The little colony took firm root under Cham- 
 plain's wise management and grew rapidly. The 
 fur trade became profitable. 
 
 In 1609 he explored the Richelieu River to the 
 Falls of Chambly a.nd discovered the Green Moun- 
 tains and Adirondacks. The following spring he 
 discovered Lake Champlain, was wounded in an 
 Indian fight and went to France for medical treat- 
 ment. He returned in 1612 and engaged vigor- 
 ously in wars and explorations. 
 
394 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 At the time that Samuel Argall started on his 
 voyage up the Atlantic coast, the French colonies 
 were beginning to flourish. The colonists at 
 Jamestown were wholly ignorant of the advances 
 being made in the north by the Dutch and French 
 within the territories of the Virginias. 
 
 Argall was not one to brook any encroachments 
 made upon the domain of his king. He explored 
 the eastern shores of the Chesapeake, in the hope 
 of finding some short cut for the boats and barges 
 from the head of the bay to the Delaware. After 
 spending some time in exploring these waters, his 
 vessel, which carried fifteen guns and a crew of 
 sixty men, set forth on a fishing voyage to the 
 Isles of Shoals. While in the waters of New 
 England, a sail was one day discovered which bore 
 down upon them. 
 
 On hailing the ship it proved to be an English 
 fishing-vessel from the shores of Newfoundland. 
 
 "What news do 3 7 ou bring?" Argall asked the 
 captain, who happened to be an acquaintance. 
 
 " 'Tis not good news. The French are encroach- 
 ing on the Virginias," was the answer. 
 
 This was the first intimation that Argall had had 
 of the French in the New World. He ordered a 
 boat to be lowered, and with Philip Stevens, his 
 pilot, went aboard the fishing- vessel, to obtain the 
 full particulars concerning the French. 
 
WRETCHED ACADIA, 295 
 
 "They have a stronghold at Port Royal," the 
 captain explained, and he proceeded to give him a 
 description of Port Eoyal, St. Savior, Mount 
 Desert, and all the settlements within the parallels 
 claimed by the English. 
 
 Striking his thigh with his open palm, Argall 
 declared: 
 
 "I will drive them away." 
 
 "Have we the right?" Philip ventured to ask. 
 
 "Prythee, why not? Are they not encroaching 
 on North Virginia, which is within the English 
 domain? We will at them at once, nor cease until 
 we have driven them from the land." 
 
 He hastened to his vessel, and, mustering his 
 crew, made known his plan. Among those bold 
 daring spirits, in an age when piracy and commerce 
 were almost synonymous terms, there was not to be 
 found a dissenting voice. 
 
 "Can you steer us to Acadia?" Captain Argall 
 asked Philip. 
 
 " I have been in those waters, and though it has 
 been years since, I think I can pilot the ship." 
 
 " Put us within their harbor, and you shall have 
 a larger share of the booty than any other man." 
 
 "Why not make the Jesuits of Mount Desert 
 your allies, captain?" Philip asked. 
 
 "How can we? They are Frenchmen." 
 
 " But did you not hear the master of the fishing 
 
296 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 bark say that, becoming offended with Poutrin- 
 eourt, they had withdrawn to Mount Desert and 
 had lived apart from the other colonists?" 
 
 After a moment's reflection, Argall asked, 
 "Would it not be well to land first at Mount 
 Desert?" 
 
 " I believe it would. They know all about the 
 country and can direct us to the French colonies." 
 
 Captain Argall readily fell in with the plan, and 
 they sailed away to Mount Desert. The wind was 
 fair and in due time they came in sight of the 
 island. 
 
 Philip suggested that they had better approach 
 the -island after night, and Argall, seeing the wis- 
 dom of the suggestion, consented. So Philip con- 
 tinued to stand off and on from the island awaiting 
 the cover of darkness to approach it. Glittering 
 like a pearl in the distance was the little colony of 
 Port Eoyal with . its town and fort and shining 
 bay. On the green hillsides fed bleating flocks. 
 Small vessels like specks of snow could be seen in 
 the distance, gliding about. The azure skies were 
 mild and serene, with only one amber cloud float- 
 ing away to the north and mingling with the eter- 
 nal fogs which mark the line where the icebergs 
 disappear. It was a scene so peaceful and so quiet 
 that no one would ever dream of danger. That 
 strange sail, standing off and on, awakened no 
 
M 8S 
 
 map of 
 NORTH AMERICA 
 
 FOR PERIOD ENDING 
 
 DRAWN FOR 
 P O CA H O N T A S 
 
WRETCHED ACADIA. 297 
 
 anxiety in the hearts of the Acadians, for strangers 
 were common in those seas. 
 
 On Mount Desert the Jesuits had lived since, 
 enraged at young Poutrincourt, they had with- 
 drawn from Port Eoyal. Disappointed in their 
 ambitious desire of ruling the French colony, their 
 holy offices defied and their power set at naught, 
 they sullenly bided their time and awaited the ful- 
 filment of a sweet revenge. It was coming much 
 sooner than they anticipated. 
 
 Gently as close the eyes of a babe in slumber, 
 night fell over the scene. The vesper bells in the 
 little chapel sounded over the water and the pious 
 Jesuits at Mount Desert had just finished their 
 prayers, when the ship of Captain Argall stood in 
 to the island. Philip Stevens, who had acquired 
 some knowledge of the French language during 
 his earlier voyages, landed with Argall and half a 
 dozen armed men and made their way toward a 
 light far up on the hillside. With the approach 
 of night, a dense fog wrapped islands, sea and land 
 within its folds and nearly concealed the light, 
 which far up on the hillside was their guide to the 
 home of the Jesuits. 
 
 Onward, up the rugged path, over slippery 
 stones they climbed until they gained the house. 
 To their knocks and calls the door was opened and 
 they were met by a monk, with a rosary in his 
 
298 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 hand. His eyes opened wide in astonishment at 
 sight of the armed men. 
 
 "Who are you?" he asked. "Be you ship- 
 wrecked mariners, or robbers from the sea?" 
 
 "We are neither," Philip answered. "We are 
 Englishmen. This is Captain Argall who has 
 come to expel the French from Port Eoyal, as it is 
 within the territory of King James." 
 
 At this announcement the Jesuit grew pale and 
 stammered some words which Philip could not un- 
 derstand. 
 
 "Tell him the Jesuits shall not be harmed," said 
 Argall. " It is only the colonists we wish to drive 
 from the country." 
 
 When Philip had translated what Argall had 
 said, an immediate change was observable on the 
 face of the Jesuit, for he had no love for the 
 colonists of Port Eoyal. Their treatment by 
 Poutrincourt still rankled in his breast. 
 
 He called in his companions, and to them Philip 
 laid bare his plan for the overthrow of the French 
 colony, and boldly asked their aid. 
 
 "We will pilot you to the harbor," said one. 
 "I deem it an act in the service of God that 
 we drive out men who would circumscribe our 
 powers." 
 
 As they went away, Argall asked Philip what 
 he thought of the Jesuits. 
 
WRETCHED ACADIA. 399 
 
 "They are half priests and half knaves," he an- 
 swered. "They may serve us out of revenge 
 against the French ; but it would be well to keep 
 a close watch over them." 
 
 This suggestion met the hearty approval of 
 Argall, who at once posted Stevens with six men to 
 watch them. When morning came the Jesuits 
 were ready to assist in the overthrow of their 
 enemies. After a short consultation, Argall de- 
 cided to make the attack both by land and water, 
 at the same time. He appointed Stevens to lead 
 the land forces. 
 
 "How many men can you spare me?" Philip 
 asked. 
 
 "Thirty." 
 
 "One-half your crew?" 
 
 " Yes. These with muskets can charge the fort 
 after we have battered down their walls." 
 
 " If the surprise is complete, we need have no 
 fears of victory." 
 
 With thirty men armed with firelocks, Philip 
 was rowed ashore three miles from Port Eoyal, at 
 a place where a point of land, covered with trees 
 to the very water's edge, concealed them from the 
 French. Guided by a Jesuit, they advanced 
 through the dense cedars and pine until they were 
 well-nigh the fort, when the young commander, 
 whose flashing eye and flushed cheek were proofs of 
 
300 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 boldness, called a halt to wait until the signal 
 should be given. Those hardy frontiersmen, sons 
 of Neptune and sons of Mars, rested the butts of 
 their pieces on the ground, and waited. A strange, 
 wild crew of desperate men they were, clad in doub- 
 let and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather. Some 
 wore the glittering helmets of the cavalier, while 
 others had the steeple-crowned hats and feathers 
 of the period. The cutlass and corselet of steel, 
 with here and there the curved blade from Damascus 
 and its Arabic inscription, made them a motley 
 group in arms as well as costume. Their guns 
 were mostly matchlocks, with strong bands to 
 prevent their exploding. The matches had been 
 lighted and the smoke like a soft vapor rose along 
 the line. Three or four were armed with the 
 wheel -lock musket; but it was never regarded as a 
 safe weapon. Leaning on his sword, the young 
 commander asked himself: 
 
 "Why should I, a Spaniard, be mixed up with 
 the quarrel between the English and French?" 
 
 Never shone the sun on a more peaceful scene 
 than the French colony on the morning that wit- 
 nessed its overthrow. The fort with its cannon lay 
 like a grim war-dog basking in the sun. The 
 French flag floated in the breeze, and two or three 
 sentries were lounging about. No one anticipated 
 an attack. 
 
WRETCHED ACADIA. 301 
 
 Suddenly from around the jutting headland came 
 the bray of trumpets, and a guard called the atten- 
 tion of his companion to a ship coming into port. 
 The vessel was tricked out in red, bearing the flag 
 of England, with trumpets sounding and drums 
 beating as she swiftly sailed under a favoring wind 
 into their harbor. 
 
 " The English ! The English ! " cried the guard, 
 and the wildest confusion prevailed. Two of the 
 mounted pieces were trained on the vessel as she 
 hove to, broadside to the fort. A puff of smoke 
 suddenly issued from one of the ports of Argall's 
 ship, and an iron ball struck the entrenchment. 
 This shot was the beginning of the conflict. The 
 French resisted with spirit. They had one ship in 
 the harbor; but ten men from Argall's vessel 
 manned a boat and carried her by the board. 
 
 Meanwhile the cannonading became fierce. The 
 French guns were dismounted, and several of the 
 gunners slain. A house took fire during the bom- 
 bardment and burned quite to the ground. When 
 their slender entrenchments had been battered 
 down, there rose from the hill above the town a 
 wild shout, and Stevens, with thirty musketeers, 
 guided by the Jesuits, charged the dismantled fort. 
 
 "The Jesuits! The Jesuits!" cried the French. 
 
 "Betrayed! Kill them!" shouted one. 
 
 Some of the bolder among the French made a 
 
302 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 feeble show at resistance; but the English gave 
 them a volley of musketry and charged boldly into 
 their fort and soon had it in their possession. The 
 cross around which the faithful had gathered was 
 thrown down, and their tents were abandoned to 
 pillage. The ship seized 4 in the harbor was held as 
 a prize, because it was captured between the forty- 
 third and forty-fourth parallels. The French were 
 expelled from the territory, but with no further act 
 of cruelty. A part of them found their way to St. 
 Malo; others were taken to the Chesapeake. 
 
 On making his report to Jamestown, Argall was 
 sent once more to the north, with authority to re- 
 move every handiwork of France in the territory 
 south of the forty-sixth degree. He raised the 
 arms of England on the spot where those of France 
 and De Guerecheville had been thrown down ; razed 
 the fortifications of De Monts on the isle of St. 
 Croix, and set fire to the deserted settlement of 
 Port Eoyal. In this manner England vindicated 
 her right to Maine and Acadia. In less than a 
 century and a half, the strife for acres, which 
 neither nation could cultivate, kindled war around 
 the globe; but for the time France, distracted by 
 factions which followed the assassination of Henry 
 IV. , did not resent the insult to her flag. 
 
 On their return from this second voyage of de- 
 struction, Philip Stevens, who had been a faithful 
 
WRETCHED ACADIA. 303 
 
 lieutenant of Argall, one evening as they sat in 
 the captain's cabin, said: 
 
 "Captain, I have followed your fortunes and 
 served you faithfully, now I have one favor to ask 
 of you." 
 
 "Surely I will grant it," answered the captain. 
 
 "I want you to take me to St. Augustine." 
 
 "What!" cried Argall, leaping to his feet so 
 suddenly as to upset a bumper of wine on the table. 
 Philip still remained seated and repeated: 
 
 "I want you to take me to St. Augustine." 
 
 "Among the Spaniards?" 
 
 "Why not? I am one." 
 
 "You a Spaniard?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Captain Argall sank upon his seat, and, leaning 
 his elbows on the table, gazed at Philip as if he 
 thought he had lost his senses. At last he asked : 
 
 "Why did you never tell me this before?" 
 
 "There never was occasion," Philip answered. 
 "But I am a Spaniard. When a child I was cap- 
 tured at St. Augustine by Sir Francis Drake, dur- 
 ing the temporary absence of my parents. I have 
 never seen them since." 
 
 " Do you expect to find your parents still living?" 
 
 "They may live; at least I can perform the 
 part of a dutiful son and seek them." 
 
 Argall was silent. 
 
304 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "Will you land meat St. Augustine?" Philip 
 once more asked. 
 
 "I cannot." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "No English ship dare at this time enter a 
 Spanish port, and of all ports St. Augustine would 
 be most fatal." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 FROM THE DARK CONTINENT. 
 
 Oh, where's the slave so lowly, 
 Condemned to chains unholy, 
 
 Who, could he burst 
 
 His bonds at first, 
 Would pine beneath them slowly? 
 What soul, whose wrongs degrade it, 
 Would wait till time decayed it, 
 
 When thus its wing 
 
 At once may spring 
 To the throne of him who made it? 
 
 —Moore. 
 
 Baffled at every point in his efforts to return 
 to the home of his childhood, Philip Stevens was 
 almost in despair. What more was there to hold 
 him to Jamestown? His brother was no longer in 
 England, and Emily had mysteriously disappeared. 
 
 "I am doomed to disappointment. From my 
 earliest childhood I have known nothing but de- 
 spair. Alone I have tread the dreary path of ex- 
 istence, and my few moments of sunshine seem 
 only to increase the misery by contrast." 
 
 Captain Smith and Rolf e were in Europe ; Poca- 
 20 305 
 
306 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 hontas was dead, and Dale and Gates were not 
 especially, friendly to the young Spaniard. After 
 long deliberation he determined to set out for St. 
 Augustine. His journey might result in his ar- 
 rest for a spy, for no one would suspect he was a 
 Spaniard. 
 
 " I will go to St. Augustine, and, if they live, 
 will find them." 
 
 Next came the question as to how he would go 
 there. Being a sailor, it was natural that his first 
 thought should be by the sea; but when he came 
 to consider the perils and impossibilities of a single 
 person in an open boat making a voyage down a 
 coast subject to hurricanes which at times tried the 
 staunchest ships, he abandoned all thought of the 
 sea. After mature deliberation, he decided to 
 make the journey by land. It was a mad idea, 
 but perhaps not so mad as the thought of going by 
 sea. He was an expert hunter and a splendid 
 shot. He had a snaphance gun, or flint-lock gun 
 (a new invention), and he was the best shot in the 
 colony. He could not only defend himself with 
 his gun, but he could also supply his food. 
 
 Philip said nothing to any one of his intentions; 
 but gathering up such provisions as he could carry, 
 and an ample supply of ammunition, two pistols, his 
 gun and his sword, he set out on the journey down 
 the coast. He had well calculated the inconven - 
 
FROM THE DARK CONTINENT. 807 
 
 iences of the journey and was not discouraged with 
 finding them increase with every mile. By use of 
 his tinderbox, he made a fire and slept on the 
 ground. Next day he travelled beyond the most 
 remote settlement. Again he built a fire and, 
 lying down, slept soundly. At early dawn he was 
 awakened by voices near, and, starting up, seized 
 his gun. To his surprise he discovered a white 
 man with a dozen Indians: the white man was 
 the renegade Francis. 
 
 Since the capture of Pocahontas, Francis had 
 lived at Pamunkee, associating with the worst 
 vagabonds in that tribe. He became a sort of a hero 
 among them and entertained ambitious dreams of 
 dethroning Opechancanough and reigning as king 
 of Pamunkee. It was a foolish dream and Francis 
 was as far from the reality as from the throne of 
 England. 
 
 He was on a hunting expedition with the Indians 
 when he discovered Philip. 
 
 "Ho! my friend Philip!" cried Francis. "We 
 will make merry now that we have you again. 
 The slave shall bow to his master." 
 
 "Keep off!" cried Philip, raising his gun. 
 
 "What! the slave rebellious? Then by the 
 mass he shall die!" 
 
 " Keep off, I warn you, or I will shoot you dead. " 
 
 " Nay, nay ; you would not be guilty of murder. " 
 
308 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 Two of the Indians had match-locks, and the 
 smoke issuing from the cocks told Philip that the 
 matches were lighted. One whose gun was pro- 
 vided with a rack set the rest and aimed at Philip. 
 The young Spaniard realized his danger, and 
 dodged behind a tree. 
 
 The report of the gun shook the air, and the 
 ball cu't through the bark of the tree behind which 
 Philip had taken shelter. At the same moment 
 three or four let fly their arrows at him, two of 
 which stuck in the tree. Philip was skilled in 
 wood-craft. He had heard Captain Smith tell how 
 for a long while he had kept Opechancanough with 
 a hundred warriors at bay, and surely he could 
 keep off a dozen; but things had changed since 
 Smith had fought Opechancanough. Since the 
 death of Eadcliffe and his party, the Indians had 
 lost much of their superstitious dread of white men 
 and their guns. Here were three weapons equal 
 to his own opposed to him, and he had to meet the 
 cunning of Francis in addition. 
 
 "Ho! slave!" cried Francis from behind a tree, 
 for he took good care not to expose himself to a 
 shot. "Surrender, and your life shall be spared; 
 refuse, and by the mass you shall die." 
 
 "Then I will die," Philip answered. "Keep 
 off, or I will shoot you." 
 
 Francis laughed and defied him to do his worst. 
 
FROM THE DARK CONTINENT. 309 
 
 Philip Stevens, lying flat on the ground, crawled 
 the distance of two rods through the low bushes 
 which screened him from view. Here he gained 
 a fallen tree, half covered with weeds and vines. 
 Around the roots of the tree he crept, flanking his 
 enemies, and then ventured to peep at them. 
 
 Francis was not fifty paces away, squatting be- 
 hind a tree, his gun cocked and the match smoking, 
 waiting for a shot. His left side was exposed to 
 Philip, and, laying the barrel of his gun across one 
 of the roots of the tree, he levelled it at the man's 
 head, aiming just above the left ear. He was 
 about to slay a cruel monster. No wonder his 
 hand trembled. 
 
 "I cannot fire now!" he thought. "God give 
 me strength in this hour of need." His hand at 
 last grew steady, and his rifle trembled not. The 
 pent-up wrongs of years rushed like a flood through 
 his mind, as he once more aimed at the head with 
 the quaint, steeple-crowned hat. 
 
 He waited until he was quite certain of his aim, 
 and then his finger pressed the trigger. There was 
 a sharp, stunning report, and when' the wreath of 
 smoke from the muzzle of his gun was lifted by 
 the breeze, he saw Francis on the ground, strug- 
 gling in the agonies of death. The blood was 
 streaming from a small round hole above his left 
 ear, and his lips were crimson. Philip, awed at 
 
310 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 his deed, forgot his danger, and stared at the dark 
 mass lying among the weeds and shrubs. With 
 terrific yells the Indians leaped on him from 
 every side, hurling him to the ground. With his 
 captivity vanished Philip's hope of returning to St. 
 Augustine. 
 
 He was taken to a distant tribe and sold into 
 slavery, where he lingered until December, 1618, 
 when he made his escape in dead winter. Through 
 all his captivity Philip had retained about his per- 
 son one of his pistols and some ammunition. 
 When he escaped, this, with, an Indian bow, arrows 
 and a spear were his only weapons. He was hun- 
 dreds of miles southwest of the English settle- 
 ments, among the mountains, a region at that time 
 wholly unknown to the white people. The tribe 
 spoke a different language from the Virginia In- 
 dians, and was evidently a distinct race. 
 
 It was a dark night, the snow lay deep on the 
 mountains and the wind sighed mournfully among 
 the pines when Philip rose from his wigwam 
 and stole from the village. He travelled into the 
 forest, heedless of the falling snow, or the howling 
 of wild beasts. He had only his stout heart to 
 comfort him and the blessed assurance that the 
 God who had brought him through so many trials 
 would not desert him now. For many days and 
 nights he wandered through a wilderness where 
 
FROM THE DARK CONTINENT. 311 
 
 the foot of man had never trod, penetrating the 
 lairs of the fiercest beasts, and defying death a- 
 thousand times. For days together he was without 
 food. 
 
 One day he encountered a bear. Poorly armed 
 as he was to attack so formidable a beast, he shot 
 it with arrows until it was enraged and charged 
 him. He coolly awaited with his pistol in hand, 
 until the ferocious beast, rearing on his hind-legs, 
 with open mouth, leaped at him; then he thrust 
 the muzzle of his weapon into its throat, and fired. 
 The bear fell dead, and he removed its skin and 
 wrapped it about him, for his Indian clothing was 
 hardly sufficient to keep him comfortable. By 
 means of flints and powder he kindled a fire, and 
 roasted all the meat he could carry. He found a 
 piece of decayed wood called punk, which is 
 capable of holding fire for hours. Lighting one 
 end and wrapping it in a piece of green bear's 
 skin, he carried his fire with him. Thus he jour- 
 neyed for weeks over mountains and plains covered 
 with dead grass and forests, where trees grew so 
 tall that their tops seemed to touch the lowering sky : 
 whither he was going he knew not. He saw at the 
 south of him, like an unsurmountable barrier, a 
 vast range of mountains. So he abandoned any 
 wild thought he yet entertained of going to St. 
 Augustine, and wended his way to the north- 
 
312 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 east. His sufferings and adventures would fill a 
 volume. 
 
 In June of 1619 a strange creature, clothed in 
 the skins of wild animals, came in sight of James- 
 town. It was a man with long hair streaming 
 down his shoulders, his beard grown to a prodig- 
 ious length. He paused on the hill above the town 
 and gazed on the scene below him. All was 
 bustle and confusion. Men were hurrying to the 
 public house, or capitol building, and others were 
 arriving from remote settlements as if matters of 
 the utmost importance were being transacted. At 
 last the stranger from the forest called to a man 
 and asked: 
 
 "Wherefore is all the turmoil and excitement?" 
 
 The man addressed gave him a curious stare and 
 asked : 
 
 "From whence come you?" 
 
 "From the forests and the mountains far to the 
 west." 
 
 "I thought you an Indian until you spoke, now 
 I discover you to be a white man." 
 
 " I am. Why the commotion in the town be- 
 low?" 
 
 "Do you not know it is the day for the meeting 
 of our first assembly?" 
 
 "Nay, I knew nothing. It has been over five 
 years since I was at Jamestown." 
 
FROM THE DARK CONTINENT. 313 
 
 "Marry! friend, where have you been?" 
 
 "A prisoner and a slave among the Indians," 
 answered Philip Stevens. 
 
 "Then there is much to tell you; but here 
 comes one better prepared to enlighten you than I." 
 
 Stevens at this moment recognized John Eolfe 
 coming toward him. So great was the change in 
 the young sailor that it was some time before he 
 could make himself known to his friend. 
 
 A great throng had gathered about him by this 
 time, and Philip briefly told his story of captivity 
 and slavery, after which he was conducted by Eolfe 
 to his own house, where his long hair was shorn, 
 his beard trimmed and he was attired in becoming 
 costume. He was then presented to the first house 
 of Burgesses, then in session, as one returned from 
 the dead. 
 
 John Eolfe related to Philip the progress of the 
 colony since his disappearance. After the depar- 
 ture of Sir Thomas Dale, George Yeardley, the 
 deputy, carried on the government until he was 
 superseded by Samuel Argall, who obtained the 
 office of governor through the influence of the 
 court faction in the London Company. Argall, 
 active, energetic and unscrupulous, administered 
 the government according to the military code, 
 carried it on in the spirit of a buccaneer, and was 
 tyrannical and extortionate. He stimulated the 
 
314 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 energy which had somewhat flagged under the 
 mild rule of Yeardley; but he oppressed the colo- 
 nists and robbed them of their property, his special 
 vengeance and greed lighting on the friends of 
 Lord De la "Ware. Complaints soon found their way 
 to England. The Virginians had_ now awakened 
 to the fact that they were shockingly misgoverned; 
 that they were kept at the mercy of one man's will; 
 that their rights were unknown, and that they were 
 without protection against such rulers as Argall. 
 From this moment people in North America began 
 to dream of liberty. The period of political de- 
 velopment had begun. 
 
 Reports of Argall's misrule circulating in Eng- 
 land almost stopped emigration at a very critical 
 period in the life of the colony. Moreover, Argall 
 had chosen his time for oppression badly. The 
 patriot party, who were beginning to make the 
 London Company for Virginia a school for educa- 
 tion in free government, found that the government 
 of their colony had been stolen, and the enterprise 
 almost ruined by the court minority. The griev- 
 ances of the Virginians obtained, therefore, a ready 
 hearing from men upon whom the hand of majesty 
 had already begun to press. The fortunes of the 
 little American settlement were caught and swept 
 along in the political current then just beginning 
 to run strongly in England. The indignation in 
 
FROM THE DARK CONTINENT. 315 
 
 London aroused by the misconduct of Argall led to 
 the defeat of the court party. Sir Edwin Sandys 
 replaced Sir Thomas Smith as treasurer, and was 
 in turn succeeded by another liberal, the Earl of 
 Southampton. A mercantile company is at .best 
 a wretched sovereign; but Virginia was fortunate 
 in falling into the hands of men who at that mo- 
 ment cared more for principle than gain. The op- 
 position was all-powerful in the company, and they 
 made it a battle-ground with the king. They were 
 at last defeated; but in the mean time they con- 
 ferred on Virginia a representative government, and 
 taught the colonists a lesson of successful resistance. 
 Thus the great political forces at work in England 
 gave Virginia free institutions, through the strange 
 medium of a commercial monopoly. Sandys, 
 Southampton, Driggs, Selden, and others using 
 the London Company as a political engine, not 
 only governed Virginia wisely, but, to further 
 other ends, gave her political opportunities from 
 which she reaped a lasting benefit. 
 
 The company granted a new political organiza- 
 tion to the colonists, recalled Argall, and dispatched 
 Lord De la Ware as governor; but he dying on the 
 voyage, the mild Yeardley was sent in his place. 
 The new charter limited the governor's power by 
 a council, and the assemblage of a representative 
 body was authorized. Yeardley and the colonists 
 
316 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 concurred in this measure, and two burgesses 
 from each plantation were elected by the inhabi- 
 tants thereof to the assembly which was to have 
 power to "make and ordain e whatsoever lawes and 
 orders should by them be thought good and profit- 
 able for their subsistance." 
 
 It was to this "House of Burgesses," this first 
 general assembly of American people, that Philip 
 Stevens was conducted. Here he met many old 
 acquaintances. Many other friends and acquaint- 
 ances had passed away during the famine under 
 Argall's despotic rule. Many changes had come 
 to Virginia, and some of the more remote settle- 
 ments and plantations had become almost depopu- 
 lated. He learned that Powhatan had died shortly 
 after the death of Pocahontas, and that Opechanca- 
 nough, the present Emperor, was not so friendly 
 with the English as the old chief had been. 
 
 "When they returned from the assembly, Eolfe 
 asked Stevens why he left the colony so mysteri- 
 ously. 
 
 "I started to go to St. Augustine to find my 
 parents," he answered. 
 
 "By land?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "It was madness." 
 
 "Not so mad as to attempt it alone by sea." 
 
FROM THE DARK CONTINENT. 317 
 
 "True; but it is sheer madness to attempt it 
 alone at best." 
 
 "Tben bow am I to go? For twenty years I 
 have tried, to get some English vessel to land me 
 there, but none will do so." 
 
 "Go to England and from thence to France. 
 Once in France you may find your way to Spain, 
 and thus be brought into communication with the 
 West Indies and Florida." 
 
 It was a roundabout way; but there seemed 
 none other, and Philip began to think seriously of 
 taking passage in the first ship for England. 
 
 Meanwhile the House of Burgesses which met 
 in June, 1619, proceeded to the enactment of laws, 
 the colonists attended to their crops, rebuilt 
 houses, and the degree of improvement and thrift 
 was surprising. Almost the first act of the House 
 of Burgesses was to exclude from their body, the 
 burgesses from Martin's Hundred, because by the 
 terms of the patent they were exempt from obedi- 
 ence to the laws of the colony. The Burgesses 
 prayed the company that the clause in the charter 
 guaranteeing equal laws might not be violated and 
 the maintenance of the great English principle of 
 equality of all men before the law, dignified the 
 first meeting of the first representative body of 
 America. The session was mainly occupied with 
 
318 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 the passage of sumptuary laws and police regula- 
 tions. Appropriate statutes provided for the govern- 
 ment of the clergy, and a tax was laid on tobacco 
 for their support. The session had not been im- 
 portant save as it marked a new era in~the new world, 
 making it the cradle of liberty. Men in America 
 became their own rulers and lawmakers. 
 
 Philip returned to his deserted plantation and 
 proceeded to repair his dilapidated house and mend 
 his fences which for five years had been suffered 
 to go to decay. The summer advanced. He had 
 been at home two months when, at the close of an 
 August day, the guard at the fort discovered a 
 strange vessel entering their harbor. He immedi- 
 ately gave the alarm. 
 
 "Spaniards! Spaniards!" cried the guard. 
 "A Spanish man-of-war is entering our harbor." 
 
 Philip Stevens heard the cry with strange 
 emotions of regret and joy. Perhaps it was a 
 vessel from St. Augustine, and he who had been 
 torn away from his parents by violence might by 
 violence be restored. 
 
 The announcement of a Spanish vessel could 
 have -but one effect on the inhabitants of James- 
 town. The fort was immediately filled with men, 
 the guns loaded, and Governor Yeardl'ey had the 
 vessels in the harbor hauled in close to shore, so as 
 to be under the protection of the guns of the fort. 
 
FROM THE DARK CONTINENT. 319 
 
 The farmer left his reaping hooks, the smith his 
 anvil, and the shoemaker his bench, and each seiz- 
 ing a firelock, hastened to defend his home. All 
 faces were pale, and some trembled, but on the 
 whole they were resolute and determined. 
 
 "Come, Philip, where is your firelock?" cried 
 Rolfe as he ran from his house, his gun and 
 powder-horn in his hand. 
 
 "I will take no part in this fight, if they be 
 Spaniards," said Philip. "I may have a father or 
 brother aboard." 
 
 Rolfe said no more, but hastened to join the 
 warriors mustering at the fort. The drum was 
 beating loudly and the trumpets were sounding. 
 
 All the while a great, lubberly, old-fashioned 
 Dutch ship was sailing slowly but steadily up the 
 river. Passing around a wooded point of land so 
 that she was in full view, the colonists saw their 
 mistake. The new-comer was a Dutch man-of- 
 war. She cast anchor and lowering a boat sent an 
 officer to ask permission to come into their port and 
 trade. 
 
 As England and Holland were at peace, Governor 
 Yeardley gave his permission. The breeze by this 
 time had quieted, the tide was running out, and 
 the ship had to wait until morning before she could 
 come up to Jamestown. 
 
 Philip Stevens went to bed that night feeling al- 
 
320 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 most disappointed that it was not a Spanish man- 
 of-war. When he awoke next morning he found 
 his friend John Eolfe at his door. 
 
 "Awake, my friend Philip; we have a strange 
 traffic for our new country from that Dutch man- 
 of-war." 
 
 "What is it?" asked Philip. 
 
 "Negroes from Africa. The Dutch man-of-war 
 has brought twenty negroes from Africa to sell to 
 the colonists, and soon they will unload them. 
 Let us go down and see the poor creatures." 
 
 Philip, who had suffered as an apprenticed ser- 
 vant in Virginia, could sympathize with a slave. 
 On the way to the beach where the slaves were to 
 be landed, he remarked: 
 
 " It seems out of harmony with our idea of com- 
 ing here for freedom, to foster an institution like 
 slavery." 
 
 Already a number of persons were gathered 
 at the beach, and more were coming every mo- 
 ment to see the strange people from far-off Africa. 
 A boat put out from the Dutch man-of-war 
 which lay near, bringing twenty negroes, twelve 
 males and eight females, chained two and two to- 
 gether. They were as miserable-looking creatures 
 as one ever saw. The long voyage, the harsh 
 treatment, restraint and confinement told on their 
 savage natures. 
 
FROM THE DARK CONTINENT. 321 
 
 Negro slavery was nothing new to trie civilized 
 world. Before Columbus had opened the path to 
 the new world, the negro slave trade had been re- 
 duced to a system by the Moors, and had spread 
 from the native regions of the Ethiopian race to 
 the heart of Egypt on the one hand, and to the 
 coast of Barbary on the other. The traffic of 
 Europeans in negro slaves was established before 
 the colonization of the United States, and had ex- 
 isted half a century before the discovery of 
 America. 
 
 The negroes were all sold in a short time to the 
 wealthier planters and officers of the colony, and 
 the Dutch ship, after buying furs and corn of the 
 colonists, set sail from their port. Had they come 
 with some destroying pestilence, or had they 
 battered down the fort and burned the houses, they 
 could not have done Virginia more harm. As 
 they went to their homes, Philip Stevens said to 
 his friend Bolfe: 
 
 " The seeds of slavery sown on the soil of Virginia 
 this day will some time deluge the New World in 
 blood." 
 
 Prophetic words, as time has proved, although 
 nearly two centuries and a half were required in 
 the fulfilment of his prediction. 
 21 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE PRICE OF A WIFE. 
 
 Oh, happy love ! where love like this is found. 
 
 Oh heartfelt raptures ! bliss beyond compare. 
 I've paced much this weary, mortal round, 
 
 And sage experience bids me declare — 
 If Heaven a draft of pleasure can spare, 
 
 One cordial in this melancholy vale, 
 Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, 
 
 In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, 
 Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the ev'ninggale. 
 
 — Burns. 
 
 The condition of the colony was greatly im- 
 proved, and a few men with wives and children 
 had been induced to come to Virginia. What 
 Virginia needed at this time was emigrants, and 
 under Sir Edwin Sandys twelve hundred and sixty- 
 one new settlers were sent over, to whom King 
 James added a hundred convicted felons. The 
 outrage was protested against, for convicted felons 
 are not a class of people out of which good society 
 is formed. 
 
 There was a sad need for social order of things, 
 322 
 
THE PniCE OF A WIFE. 323 
 
 and Philip Stevens was not long returned from his 
 bondage in the forest, ere he heard of a novel plan, 
 said to have originated with Sir Edwin Sandys to 
 people the country. It was nothing more nor less 
 than to send a ship-load of wives to the colonists. 
 There was much talk about the expected "wife 
 ship;" but Philip, who had had his love dream, 
 took little interest in the subject. His heart had 
 been won long years ago by the pretty little shepherd 
 girl in the downs of old England. Emily had 
 disappeared, was perhaps dead, and he could never 
 love another. 
 
 The wives were to be paid for by their Imsbands 
 with tobacco. That is, the passage was to be paid 
 in tobacco, estimated at one hundred and twenty 
 pounds. The winter of 1619 and 1620 passed 
 away, and when spring came, Philip, who could 
 not afford to live off the bounty of friends, planted 
 his fields with corn, wheat and barley and also a 
 crop of tobacco, which had grown to be such a 
 staple article that the streets of Jamestown were 
 planted with it. 
 
 Philip's old enemy "William More was still with 
 the colony. He had kept aloof from Philip since 
 his return, which caused the latter to suspect he 
 might have had something to do with his captivity. 
 One day he met More and asked him why he 
 avoided him. 
 
324 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "We were not good friends," said More eva- 
 sively, "and I thought you would not want me." 
 
 "You were the friend of Francis; he was my 
 enemy; but I forgive you. Francis is dead." 
 
 "He hath been missed a long time." 
 
 " I slew him in the wood. What was the fate 
 of his kinsman, Adams, and the other Dutchmen?" 
 
 " They went, as you know, to live with Powha- 
 tan, and when the chief learned that they had be- 
 trayed Smith, he had them slain." 
 
 "Such is the reward of treachery," said Philip. 
 
 In order to change the subject, More asked 
 Philip if he intended to choose a wife from the 
 ship-load of maids soon expected. 
 
 "No; I will never marry," said Philip. 
 
 "I shall select one, and if you do not, my 
 chances are so much better." 
 
 Philip gazed at the rascal and pitied the un- 
 fortunate maid who fell to his lot. The ship of 
 maids was the theme of all the settlers, and young 
 swains, and old swains from Jamestown and all the 
 surrounding boroughs began to dream of the wives 
 and sweethearts whom they had not yet seen. 
 
 In the earlier years the voyagers to far-off Vir- 
 ginia had been only adventurers seeking their 
 fortunes, but with little or no intention of passing 
 the remainder of their lives in the new land. They 
 looked upon the country as a place in which they 
 
THE PRICE OF A WIFE. 325 
 
 would not long abide, and neither brought their 
 families nor established their homes there. They 
 hoped soon to return to England with improved 
 fortunes. These were not men to found a great 
 colony. Sandys clearly saw that unless Virginia 
 was looked upon as a home, the great plan of the 
 company would fail. He realized that what the 
 Virginians needed as a stimulus to exertion were 
 wives and children depending on them. With 
 these they would perform honest labor cheerfully, 
 and when once the hand was on the plough they 
 would not look, back to England No place can be 
 home without wife or children. 
 
 Strange as it may seem, the company, through 
 Sandys, induced ninety young women to go out as 
 wives for the settlers — persons of unexceptionable 
 character, who had volunteered for that purpose. 
 As the expenditure of the company in sending 
 them was considerable, it was required that he who 
 selected a wife was to repay cost of outfit and 
 voyage. The cost of a wife was fixed at one 
 hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco — about 
 eighty dollars. On payment of that amount the 
 settler was entitled to his wife. 
 
 Such a scheme at this day would seem highly 
 ridiculous, yet it worked well and was the salvation 
 of the colony. In their regulation for the govern- 
 ment of the colony, the company made strong dis- 
 
326 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 tinctions in favor of married men. To prevent all 
 objections, care was exercised to send only maids 
 of unquestioned character, and two who did not 
 prove to be of good morals were returned to Eng- 
 land. Every safeguard was thrown around them 
 to make them happy in their new homes. It was 
 ordered: "In case they cannot be presently 
 married, we desire that they may be put with 
 several householders that have wives, until they 
 can be supplied with husbands. . . . We desire 
 that the marriage be free according to nature, and 
 we would not have these maids deceived and mar- 
 ried to servants, but only such freemen or tenants as 
 have means to maintain them . . . not enforcing 
 them to marry against their will." 
 
 With these instructions the much-talked-of wife 
 ship sailed from England and all the various settle- 
 ments were on the qui-vive for its arrival. There 
 was quite a change among the old bachelors and 
 young men in the settlements. Their hair was 
 trimmed, beards shaven and clothes mended and 
 cleaned. 
 
 Even old Alexander Bradwaye, a bald-headed 
 bachelor living at Neck of Land, had his white 
 beard trimmed, and appeared at church in a new 
 suit. 
 
 ''Whom will you select?" asked one of the 
 younger men of Bradwaye. 
 
THE PRICE OF A WIFE. 327 
 
 "Truly a man of my powers and fascinations 
 should have pick and choice," answered Bradwaye. 
 Bradwaye had a face made up by nature for com- 
 edy. The top of his pate was bald, and the thin 
 hair which skirted the base of his skull, overhang- 
 ing his ears, was white as snow. His face was 
 red, nose long and lips thick, while the lower part 
 of his face was covered with a beard of a brown- 
 ish-gray. 
 
 "Nay, my good Alec, do not break the hearts 
 of all the maids! Leave some for us," said one of 
 the. younger men. 
 
 "Marry! John Batt, if. all were as hard-favored 
 as you, the maids would plead to be returned." 
 
 Batt was good-natured and, in a voice full of 
 irony, answered: 
 
 "Your youth should win you the fairest." 
 
 " 'Tis not youth and folly, but age and strength 
 these maids want." 
 
 "The minister's sermon was short," some one 
 remarked, to remind the group that it was the 
 Sabbath day. 
 
 "The good preacher is saviDg himself," inter- 
 posed Bradwaye. " He will need all his strength." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Think of the number of marriages he will have 
 when the wife ship comes in. All will want to be 
 married on the same day." 
 
328 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "Surely they will!" Batt interposed. "All 
 want an even start." 
 
 " I would remind thee," put in the pious Collins, 
 "that it is the Sabbath day, and such idle talk 
 ill becomes godly people." 
 
 "We will disperse, Friend Collins! We assem- 
 bled but for the moment to discuss the prospects of 
 the ship." 
 
 "The ship may not arrive for a month hence." 
 
 "Alas, if you should prove a true prophet I 
 will be constrained to another month of bachelor- 
 hood," said Bradwaye, at which the younger men 
 inclined to levity smiled. Such an assembly on 
 the Lord's day could not long be permitted, and 
 the wags antl wits went to their homes. Old Alec 
 Bradwaye went over to Neck of Land assuring 
 all that he would return early next morning and 
 await the arrival of the ship, as he wanted first 
 choice. 
 
 "I have the tobacco to pay," he said. 
 
 The good minister felt relieved when Bradwaye 
 was gone, for such a rollicking fellow was calcu- 
 lated to corrupt the morals of the young men. 
 
 On Tuesday morning, Philip Stevens was awak- 
 ened at dawn by the boom of a cannon, followed 
 by loud shouts of joy. He started up and listened 
 to learn the cause of the commotion. People were 
 running about the streets crying: 
 
THE PRICE OF A WIFE. 329 
 
 "The ship has come in! The ship has come 
 in!" 
 
 Filled with curiosity, Philip rose and hurriedly 
 dressed. Eeaching the door a lively scene burst on 
 his view. A large ship was coming in, aided by 
 both breeze and tide. A puff of white smoke is- 
 sued from one of her ports, and the boom of a can- 
 non shook the air. Men were hurrying down to 
 the beach shouting themselves hoarse, and waving 
 their hats in the air. Among them Philip saw old 
 Alec Bradwaye dancing about, waving his hat in 
 the air, while his bald head glistened in the rising 
 sun like a peeled onion. 
 
 The wife ship had come, and the settlers were 
 nocking to Jamestown. It was a curious spectacle, 
 those men assembled on the beach to select a wife. 
 There were fully four hundred prospective hus- 
 bands on the beach. 
 
 Amid the wildest cheers the vessel cast anchor 
 and began to unload her precious freight. The 
 first boat with twenty-five blushing girls was rowed 
 ashore, and the "modest maids" were scarcely 
 landed ere they were surrounded, and the wooing 
 began. 
 
 "Wilt thou be mine?" asked old Alec, approach- 
 ing a blushing damsel of twenty with a bow in- 
 tended to be graceful. -The girl turned up her 
 pretty nose in contempt, and answered: 
 
330 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "Nay, verily, I will not wed my grandfather." 
 
 "Marry! thou art a vixen." 
 
 " Thou art a brute! Avaunt, old man, and seek 
 thy companion among the ancient lasses to follow." 
 
 This was greeted with a shout of delight and 
 Bradwaye was pushed aside and told to wait for 
 the oldest daughter of Methuselah. 
 
 "Nay, nay, be not too quick with your tongues, 
 lest you come to grief, " cried Bradwaye, and, undis- 
 mayed, he approached the next maid, a little older, 
 who treated him quite civilly, but rejected his suit. 
 He wooed maid after maid, until all had left the 
 beach. Several were accepted then and there, and 
 the minister solemnized a score of marriages before 
 noon. Many of the young ladies were averse to 
 this business-like arrangement, and refused to ac- 
 cept the suit of any man until they knew him 
 better. 
 
 On the arrival of the second boat, Bradwaye re- 
 sumed his courting; but his age was against him. 
 Again and again was he rejected; but he was still 
 hopeful and persevering. 
 
 "By the mass! I have the tobacco to purchase 
 a wife, and if they do not send me one, I will go 
 to England and have my pick of London," he de- 
 clared. 
 
 "Surely, you have lived single long enough!" 
 said Batt. 
 
THE PRICE OF A WIFE. 
 
 331 
 
 "Prythee! John, have you selected yours?" 
 asked Bradwaye. 
 
 "Behold her! We are going to the church to 
 be married," said John, pointing to a saucy, blue- 
 eyed maiden to whom Bradwaye had proposed. 
 
 "Nat, verily, I will not wed my grandfather." 
 
 " Verily, John, you are second choice. I ashed 
 her first," said Bradwaye. 
 
 A shout of laughter went up from the crowd, 
 and John Batt led his new sweetheart to the church, 
 
332 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 where they awaited their turns to be married. 
 When the third boat came Bradwaye was more 
 successful. There was among them a* woman of 
 thirty -five, Ann Briggs, who seemed out of favor 
 with the younger members of the colony. The 
 old man saw his chance and improved it. He 
 went boldly to the ancient maid and said: 
 
 "Be not discouraged, behold I have courted two 
 boat-loads of maids without success, and yet do I 
 not despair. I have more tobacco than all those 
 young fellows who turn the heads of the silly 
 maids, and if you will go with me to the church, 
 by the mass! your passage will be paid." 
 
 Ann liked the bold, honest way of the white- 
 haired colonist and, with a faint blush suffusing 
 her slightly faded cheek, answered: 
 
 "I will go with thee." 
 
 That was the courtship. Not until they reached 
 the church did they know each other's names. 
 They were married at once, and as they emerged 
 from the church, some of the young scamps about 
 the town began to shout: 
 
 "Old Bradwaye has got a wife!" and guns were 
 fired and bells rang. 
 
 The newly-married couple received these dem- 
 onstrations with perfect good-nature. They went 
 to Neck of Land, where they commenced life to- 
 gether in the ample house which Bradwaye had 
 
THE PRICE OF A WIFE. 333 
 
 built years before. A long and happy life was 
 granted them, and their descendants became some 
 of the best families of Virginia. 
 
 Philip Stevens still lingered about the beach, 
 taking no part in the strange proceedings. Though 
 there were many pretty girls among the new- 
 comers, he was unmoved by their comeliness. If 
 only Emily had come, he would willingly have 
 paid her passage. The last boat of maids was 
 landed. 
 
 Curiosity held Philip to the spot. As the last 
 boat was coming ashore, William More, who so 
 far had been unsuccessful in securing a wife, looked 
 hopefully toward it. Two or three hundred dis- 
 appointed suitors still remained on the beach. 
 Their tobacco lay in piles along the shore. 
 
 "I am going to woo the most comely among 
 them," Philip heard More declare. 
 
 The boat was beached and the maidens began 
 to come ashore. The planters crowded about them, 
 introduced themselves, and spoke of their fine 
 prospects. 
 
 "I have a house and farm at Colledge Land," 
 said one. 
 
 "I am from Jordon's Journey," said another. 
 
 "Nay, come with me to Chalain's Choice, it is 
 a goodly country, and I can give you all your 
 heart desires." 
 
334 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 The poor girls, unaccustomed to this ardent 
 fashion of wooing, were embarrassed and silent. 
 One of them was making her way through the 
 throng; but William More kept at her side, saying: 
 
 "Nay, nay, sweet maid, turn not so coldly 
 from me, for I live at James City, and have a 
 goodly home all my own. My house can be seen 
 just over the hill; come and view it." 
 
 "Away! I come not here to wed, but to seek 
 the lost." 
 
 That voice was strangely familiar to Philip. 
 He started toward her; but a throng of planters 
 intervened and crowded him back. Meanwhile 
 More continued: 
 
 "You must listen to my plea. I have the to- 
 bacco with which to pay your passage." 
 
 "Away!" shrieked the girl, terrified at the fel- 
 low's boldness. 
 
 There was no longer any mistake. Philip would 
 have known that voice among a thousand. He 
 hurled men right and left until he had forced a 
 passage to the girl. Philip's hands were about 
 More's throat; he hurled him aside and, clasping 
 the fainting girl in his arms, cried: 
 
 "Emily!" 
 
 She was unconscious. Gently he bore her in 
 his strong arms to his humble cottage on the hill, 
 where he laid her on his cot and chafed her temples 
 
THE PRICE OF A WIFE. 335 
 
 until life was once more restored. It was a touch- 
 ing scene — that weather-beaten, haggard man, bend- 
 ing over one whom he had loved and lost so many 
 years ago. A crowd gathered about the door, 
 and gazed in silent wonder at the agitated young 
 colonist. When her face became flushed, and she 
 once more gasped for life, he rose, and closed the 
 door on the curious crowd. They could hear 
 voices talking within; but only caught an occa- 
 sional word. The awakening, the recognition, the 
 wild joy of two fond hearts, reunited after long 
 years of separation were witnessed only by God. 
 Explanations were made. Emily's mother, being 
 very poor, lost her cottage home and removed to 
 another part of England, where she died. Emily, 
 left alone, had been compelled to support herself 
 by her own exertions. She had sent numerous 
 letters, but, owing to the poor facilities for for- 
 warding mail, they had miscarried. Not hearing 
 from Philip for all these long years, she feared he 
 must be dead. Philip listened to her simple story 
 of love and devotion with wildly beating heart. 
 When she could hear no more from him, she re- 
 solved to come to Virginia and seek him. She 
 came with the "ship-load of maids," as she had not 
 money to pay her passage in another vessel. When 
 he had heard it all, he clasped her in his arms, and 
 cried: 
 
336 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 "God be praised! the sun once more shines on 
 my cloud-dimmed life." 
 
 A knock at the door startled them. He rose and 
 opening it, found "William More with the captain 
 of the ship, and some of the officials of Jamestown 
 standing there. 
 
 "Are you married?" asked the officer. "Is the 
 woman your wife?" 
 
 "Not yet," stammered Philip. 
 
 " Then it is not right that she should dwell in 
 the same house with you," said the officer. 
 
 "We will go at once to the minister and be 
 married," returned Philip. 
 
 "Pirst you will be required to pay her passage," 
 put in the captain. Philip started and turned pale. 
 
 He glanced at William More, and saw a gleam 
 of triumph in his face. Philip had no tobacco. 
 
 "I have been a prisoner among the Indians for 
 five years," he said, "and have had no time to 
 grow tobacco." 
 
 " One hundred and twenty pounds is the price 
 of your wife," said the captain sternly. 
 
 "Perhaps I can pay you in corn!" suggested 
 Philip evasively, though he knew, on reflection, 
 he had no corn. 
 
 " I am instructed to take only tobacco," answered 
 the captain. 
 
 "I have it not," said Philip. 
 
THE PRICE OF A WIFE. 
 
 337 
 
 "I have an abundance of tobacco," put in More. 
 "I will pay for the maid and she stall be my 
 wife." 
 
 "No! no! no!" screamed Emily. 
 
 Philip became desper- / 
 ate and was on the point 
 of drawing his sword and 
 defying all the colony, 
 when the captain inter- 
 posed with: 
 
 "Nay, nay, you rash 
 young man, put up your 
 sword, for no one shall 
 harm the maid. Accord- 
 ing to our orders, none 
 are to be married against 
 their will, but are to 
 choose their husbands." 
 
 "What will you do, 
 seeing he hath not the to- 
 bacco?" asked More. 
 
 "She shall be put to 
 live with a good family 
 until a suitable husband can be found, who will 
 pay her passage." 
 
 A beam of joy came over Philip's face, and he 
 said: 
 
 " Emily, we shall yet be happy. I have tobacco 
 22 
 
 Philip and Emilt. 
 
338 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 growing. In a few short weeks it will ripen, and, 
 when cut and cured, I will redeem you, and we 
 will wed. Until that time you can abide at Mr. 
 Whitaker's; his wife will kindly receive you." 
 
 More looked baffled as Emily was led away by 
 her lover to the home of Mr. Whitaker. Mrs. 
 Whitaker readily took her in, agreeing to keep 
 her until her future husband was prepared to pay 
 her passage 
 
 Never did husbandman watch the growth of to- 
 bacco so anxiously as did Philip. He cultivated 
 it, ridged the earth tenderly about it, for it was a 
 labor of love. The parasitic shoots which grew 
 out at every leaf were carefully broken away, and 
 the insects which so often destroy the leaves while 
 growing were picked off and killed. No labor was 
 too great for him, and from early dawn until late 
 at night he was in his tobacco field, all impatient 
 for the ripening of the crop which was to give him 
 his wife. 
 
 Emily frequently came to watch her lover at his 
 toil and whisper some word of encouragement. 
 She even aided him at times to pick off great 
 disgusting worms, at sight of which a lady of to- 
 day would swoon. One sweet smile more than 
 repaid Philip for all his toil. 
 
 But alas! while he slept, the despoiler came. 
 One night he retired, leaving his tobacco green 
 
THE PRICE OF A WIFE. 339 
 
 with life, the rich sap filling the leaves which 
 strutted over the earth. Next morning he rose to 
 find it wilted and dying. Some one had cut it 
 down. Not a stalk was saved, and Philip tore his 
 hair, and beat his breast in despair. Another 
 year must elapse, ere he could hope to redeem 
 Emily. He intuitively knew that it was More who 
 had wronged him. 
 
 John Eolfe came by, and, seeing the condition 
 pf his friend's tobacco, asked: 
 
 "Who did it?" 
 
 "I know not. You see I am ruined." 
 
 "Nay, nay, be of good heart, my friend, you 
 will redeem it next year." 
 
 "But, alas! another year must pass ere I can 
 pay Emily's passage." Then he explained that 
 he intended with this tobacco to purchase his 
 wife, but that a jealous rival had come in the 
 night and destroyed it. 
 
 " Cheer up, my friend, if that be the only cause 
 of grief, I will advance the tobacco required, and 
 you may wed your sweetheart this day." 
 
 Philip seized his friend's hand in both his own; 
 his eyes filled with tears; he essayed to speak his 
 gratitude; but his voice failed him, and he could 
 only press the hand in silence. 
 
 As soon as he had partially recovered,' he hast- 
 ened to Emily and told her the good news. The 
 
340 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 tobacco was weighed out to the exacting master of 
 the ship, and that evening Philip Stevens led the 
 blushing Emily to the altar. 
 
 His young friends came to congratulate him and 
 made merry. William More sulked in silence and 
 occasionally cast a sullen glance at Philip's house 
 resounding with mirth and joy — a look which 
 bode no good to the peace and happiness of the 
 newly-married couple. 
 
CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Let fate do her worst ; there are relics of joy, 
 Bright dreams of the past which she cannot destroy ; 
 Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care 
 And bring back the features that joy used to wear. 
 Long, long be my heart with such memories filled, 
 Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled. 
 You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, 
 But the scent of the roses yet hangs round it still. 
 
 — Moobb. 
 
 Shortly after Philip's marriage, William More 
 disappeared from Jamestown. No one knew 
 whither he had gone, but supposed he was at Neck 
 of Land or some other settlement near. Inquiry 
 proved that he was not there, nor was he at Berke- 
 ley's Plantation, Palling Creek, Appamattox, 
 Flower de Hundred, Macocks, Westover, Powell's 
 Brook, Martins, Brandon, nor any of the more 
 remote settlements. After considerable inquiry 
 for the missing man had been made, a rumor came 
 that he had gone to reside among the Indians at 
 Pamunkee, and had married an Indian wife. Some 
 wag thought it was "mete for one who was unable 
 341 
 
342 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 to secure a white wife, to choose a companion 
 among the red people." In a short time he was 
 forgotten. The colony progressed wonderfully. 
 A school was established for the Indians, who 
 seemed to be friendly to the whites. The Indians 
 were thought to be so harmless that they were in- 
 structed in the use of fire-arms, and became expert 
 shots. Little did the colonists dream what a dan- 
 gerous weapon they were putting in the hands of 
 their enemies. 
 
 In 1621, a written constitution was granted to 
 the colonists, and liberties unknown to the people 
 in England were promised the Virginians, as an 
 inducement to emigration. The royalists were 
 unknowingly fostering a spirit of freedom in 
 America, which, for all future time, was to prove 
 a menace to kings and emperors. Jamestown be- 
 came thriving and prosperous, and settlements 
 were pushed out into the most remote parts of the 
 country, where small, feeble plantations grew into 
 strong settlements. Sir Francis Wyatt this year 
 became governor of the colony. 
 
 Philip Stevens meanwhile lived with his wife at 
 Jamestown, happy and prosperous. He combined 
 the business of planter with that of merchant and 
 was growing rich. His extensive travel and 
 knowledge of countries and the colony in which he 
 lived was of great advantage to him. He became 
 
CONCLUSION. 343 
 
 an extensive fur trader, and was well known and 
 respected by all the Indians with whom he dealt. 
 In the happiness of this new existence he had 
 quite forgotten his brother and parents. He heard 
 in 1620 that a party of Englishmen called Puritans 
 living at Leyden, Holland, had sailed to Northern 
 Virginia, where they had founded a colony, and 
 he often asked himself if his brother might not be 
 among them. 
 
 One stormy night in February, 1622, a boat 
 coming in from the mouth of the river reported 
 that a strange ship, almost wrecked, was trying to 
 enter their harbor. 
 
 " May God have mercy on any unfortunate mar- 
 iners at sea on such a night," said Philip. A life- 
 saving party was at once organized, and Philip, 
 being a stout young sailor, was put in charge of 
 the crew. Twenty- five strong young men in two 
 large boats pulled down the river and soon entered 
 the bay. Just beyond was the wild roaring sea. 
 The waves leaped mountains high, and the cold 
 wind like a knife pierced their skins. The night 
 was so dark that they could see nothing. Philip, 
 knowing that no boat could live in such a storm, 
 ordered the men to pull under a point of land where 
 they would be somewhat sheltered, and await some 
 signal from the ship. They had not long to wait, 
 for, before many moments had elapsed, the flash 
 
344 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 and boom of a cannon told them that a ship, not 
 over a mile down the coast, was striving to beat up 
 against the wind. This, in such a storm, was im- 
 possible. Not knowing how to befriend the 
 vessel, he ordered the boats to lay where they 
 were. Another and still another gun of distress, 
 boomed out on the awful night. 
 
 "God help them! she is going ashore on the 
 reefs," cried Philip, "and no power can save her." 
 "With all his men, save four left with the boats, he 
 went ashore, and, with lighted torches of pine 
 knots, they set off down the beach to a point at 
 which the doomed ship was coming. Great fires 
 were built along the beach, and brave men, with 
 ropes about their waists, waited for the moment to 
 come when they should rush to the rescue of the 
 drowning. The broad glare of the flame was 
 thrown far out over the water and fell upon the 
 ship coming to its doom. The vessel struck the 
 rocks with such force that the masts went by 
 the board, the cabin tumbled in, and the wild 
 waves swept over the stern. 
 
 Amid the crash, roar and thunder of wild 
 breakers, could be heard the cries of human beings 
 in distress. Then a boat freighted with human 
 beings could be seen on a wave but a few hundred 
 yards from shore. Could it possibly reach them? 
 Just at the most critical moment the boat was 
 
CONCLUSION. 345 
 
 capsized, and the people all plunged struggling in 
 the water. 
 
 "To the rescue!" cried Philip as, with half a 
 dozen other swimmers, he plunged into the rolling 
 surf. 
 
 In a moment Philip was submerged; he rose 
 and saw a white-haired man in the water. He 
 seized the old man, clung to him and made his 
 way to shore, more dead than alive. The rescued 
 man was insensible, and for a long time thought to 
 be dead ; but after diligent rubbing he recovered. 
 One of his legs had been broken and Philip had 
 him conveyed to one of the boats and taken to his 
 bouse. Twenty-three had been rescued from the 
 wreck. All the others, numbering eighty, per- 
 ished. 
 
 The ship was a Spanish vessel from the West 
 Indies, which had touched at St. Augustine. 
 
 The old man at Philip's house was a Spaniard; 
 but he spoke English quite fluently. It was three 
 days before the surgeon would give him permission 
 to converse. Philip, then finding him strong 
 enough to talk, asked him : 
 
 "Are you from St. Augustine?" 
 
 " I am ," was the answer. 
 
 "How long have you lived there?" 
 
 "Almost three-score years." 
 
 "You knew Melendez?" 
 
346 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 " I did. I settled at St. Augustine when he 
 was governor of the colonies." 
 
 "•Where are you going?" 
 
 "To North Virginia," the wounded man an- 
 swered. "1 was on my way to seek a lost son." 
 
 "A lost son?" cried Philip, striving to conceal 
 his interest. 
 
 " Yes, senor, a lost son. Mine is a sad story. 
 Nearly forty years ago, I was the father of a 
 happy family. One day there came news that my 
 countrymen living at San Juan de Pinos had been 
 driven from their homes, and many were sick and 
 wounded in the forests, and others pursued by a 
 cruel enemy. I set out with a force of soldiers to 
 their rescue. My wife accompanied me, and dur- 
 ing our absence our home was assaulted by the 
 same rapacious monster who had attacked San Juan 
 de Pinos, and the town was laid waste. When we 
 returned we found our children gone." 
 
 The old man was quite overcome with his emo- 
 tion and Philip waited several moments before he 
 asked: 
 
 "How many children had you?" 
 
 " Two small boys, Philip and Mattheo. For a, 
 long time I thought them dead. My poor wife, 
 Hortense, died of grief, and for thirty years I 
 have lived alone. By chance a Spaniard, who 
 was fishing off the banks of Newfoundland, learned 
 
'TO THE RESCUE!" CKIED PHILIP. 
 
CONCLUSION. 347 
 
 that a colony of Puritans from Ley den, Holland, 
 had been planted in North Virginia, and that 
 among them was a young man of Spanish birth. 
 His story was that he had been captured by Drake 
 at St. Augustine, May 28th, 1586, and was taken 
 to England, where he fell into the hands of John 
 Eobinson, a Puritan, who reared him and sent him 
 to North Virginia with the Pilgrims, almost two 
 years ago." 
 
 For a long time Philip was unable to speak. 
 When he did, he asked in a voice marvellously 
 calm: 
 
 "What became of your other son?" 
 
 "Alas! I know not. No trace of him has 
 ever been found, only that he went on board a 
 ship. Perchance he was drowned." 
 
 "What is your name?" 
 
 Philip had such perfect control over his voice, 
 that he betrayed not the least emotion. 
 
 "Francisco Estevan," was the answer. 
 
 After a few moments Philip arose and left the 
 room. He went direct to the surgeon and asked: 
 
 "Is the wounded Spaniard strong enough to re- 
 ceive a great shock?" 
 
 " Is a great shock necessary?" asked the surgeon. 
 
 "It is." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "I have discovered that he is my father," 
 
348 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 The surgeon fixed his eyes on him in amazement 
 and asked: 
 
 "Are you mad?" 
 
 "No." Philip was still very calm. He narrated 
 what the man had told ; and added his own story, 
 concluding with: 
 
 " I have found a father and a brother at the 
 same time. Thus you see, after a separation of 
 almost forty years, our family bids fair to be re- 
 united." 
 
 "Break the news gently to him." Philip did 
 so. Not in one day, nor in two was the revelation 
 made, but by degrees, leading hope and joy so 
 gently along that no rude shock came to jar the 
 nerves of the invalid. 
 
 He seemed to awake from a painful dream to a 
 delightful reality. It was worth while to be 
 rescued from the waves when one could fall into 
 the arms of such a son. Emily called him father, 
 and he said she reminded him of his own sunny- 
 haired Hortense. They laid delightful plans for 
 visiting the new colony in North Virginia, as soon 
 as Senor Estevan had recovered; but a terrible 
 cloud was gathering and ready to burst over the 
 heads of the colonists, which postponed the con- 
 templated visit to the north for several years. 
 
 From the time of the departure of William More 
 from the colony this trouble can be traced, and one 
 
CONCLUSION. 349 
 
 mi glit not be far out of the way, if they were to 
 guess that he was the author of much of it. 
 When Sir Francis Wyatt came to Virginia, bring- 
 ing with him the new constitution, he was pleased 
 with the aspect of everything about him, and the 
 colonists rejoiced in the prospects of a long period 
 of peace and prosperity. The atmosphere of their 
 daily life seemed perfectly serene; there was not a 
 cloud in the firmament; but this peace was but 
 the calm which precedes the storm. Opitchapan 
 succeeded at Powhatan's death as Emperor of 
 Virignia, being the great chief's brother; but he 
 was quickly deposed by Opechancanough. The 
 Indian tradition at the time of Beverley was that 
 Opechancanough was not Powhatan's brother, nor 
 a Virginian at all, but a mysterious stranger from 
 Mexico, or some strange southwestern country, 
 who had made his way to Virginia, and, by his 
 skilful diplomacy, became ruler. 
 
 "William More, having ingratiated himself into 
 the good graces of Opechancanough, soon began 
 to plot with him for the destruction of the whites. 
 Opechancanough used various arts to inflame the 
 anger of the Indians against the English. He had 
 a rival, named Nemattanow, or "Jack o' .the 
 Feather," who was much admired by his people 
 and had shown himself to be a bitter enemy of 
 the colonists. For the double purpose of ridding 
 
350 
 
 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 himself of this rival, and exciting the anger 
 of the nation against the English, the dusky 
 Emperor sent word to Governor "Wyatt that he 
 gave his permission to out Nemattanow's throat, 
 knowing that such an act would rouse the savages 
 
 to a furious war. Of 
 course the governor 
 would do nothing of the 
 kind; but, unfortunate- 
 ly, in an affray with a 
 settler, the rival was 
 shot and killed. The 
 wily Emperor pretended 
 to bewail his loss, and 
 fired the resentment of 
 the Indians against the 
 English. He went 
 secretly to the governor, 
 half clad in skins, his 
 head plumed with eagle's 
 feathers, and bearing in 
 his belt a finely wrought 
 hatchet. After making warm professions of friend- 
 ship, he demanded in a haughty tone some conces- 
 sions to his incensed people. . His demand was 
 refused ; and, snatching his hatchet from his belt, 
 he struck its keen blade into a log of the cabin, 
 uttering a curse upon the English. The governor 
 
 Jack o' the Feather. 
 
CONCLUSION. 351 
 
 and his secretary were_ startled at his savage fury, 
 and, seeing he was about to betray his secret, 
 Opechancanough recovered himself and, with a 
 smile, said: 
 
 "Pardon me, governor; I was thinking of that 
 wicked Englishman (Argall), who stole my niece 
 (Pocahontas), and struck me with his sword. I 
 love the English who are the friends of the family 
 of Powhatan. Sooner will the skies fall, than 
 my bond of friendship be dissolved." 
 
 His representations of friendship did not wholly 
 undeceive the governor, and he warned^ the people 
 that there was treachery abroad. They were slow 
 to believe it. There had been a few skirmishes 
 with the Indians in the early days of the colonies, 
 but nothing like a general war. Their settlements 
 were scattered, some of them in solitary places, 
 and, yet, since the happy marriage of Pocahontas, 
 no one had ever been disturbed. 
 
 At mid-day, on the 1st of April, 1622, the 
 Indians rushed from the forest upon all the remote 
 settlements at the same time, and, in one short hour, 
 three hundred and fifty men, women and children 
 were slain. Even the devoted missionary at 
 Henrico, who had instructed the Indian children, 
 and tenderly nursed the young and old in sickness, 
 was not spared. Among the victims were six 
 members of the council and several of the wealthier 
 
352 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 inhabitants. On the very morning of the massacre, 
 the treacherous savages were in the houses, and 
 at the tables of the people whom they intended 
 to murder at noon. 
 
 Chanco, a Christian Indian who had heard of 
 the conspiracy, hastened to Jamestown the even- 
 ing before the massacre to warn his friend Philip 
 Stevens of impending danger. The alarm spread, 
 but too late to reach remote settlements. The 
 people of Jamestown, being roused, with Philip 
 Stevens at their head, marched against the horde 
 of assassins and checked the onward sweep of ruin 
 and devastation. To Chanco and the prompt ac- 
 tion of Stevens, the colonists owed their lives. 
 
 The people assembled at Jamestown, and at 
 once took measures for signal vengeance. Every 
 man capable of bearing arms appeared in the field, 
 and a war of extermination was begun. The 
 Indians were slaughtered by scores, and driven 
 back into the wilderness. Opechancanough fled for 
 his life to the land of the Pamunkeys, and by this 
 show of cowardice lost much of his influence. His 
 power was broken, and the strength of his people 
 had departed. Before the war, there were about 
 six thousand Indians within sixty miles of James- 
 town, occupying a domain of eight thousand square 
 miles in extent. At the close of the war, there 
 were probably not a thousand within that territory. 
 
CONCLUSION. 353 
 
 Philip Stevens was kept constantly on the fron- 
 tier, battling with the wily foe, and for months 
 did not see his wife and father, who remained at 
 Jamestown . Of course, th e pro j ected visit to North 
 Virginia was forgotten. Most of the Spaniards 
 rescued from the wreck remained in the colony, 
 and some served under Stevens in the Indian 
 campaigns. 
 
 The blight of war, pestilence and famine fell 
 upon the people of Jamestown. Gathered into a 
 narrow place for mutual protection, sickness pre- 
 vailed among them, large areas of land were left 
 uncultivated, and many of the settlers, discouraged 
 and terrified, returned to England. The colony 
 of almost four thousand souls was soon reduced to 
 twenty-five hundred, and these never retired to 
 rest at night with an assurance that they would not 
 hear the savage war-whoop before dawn. 
 
 One night, while on the frontier with a band of 
 sturdy pioneers inured to toil and danger, Philip 
 Stevens was aroused from dreams of wife and 
 home, by the terrible war-whoop, the crack of the 
 gun, and twang of the bowstring. In a moment 
 he was on his feet, with sword in hand, bidding 
 his men to seek shelter behind trees and return the 
 fire. For a few moments the fight raged fiercely, 
 then he gave the command to charge, and led his 
 daring soldiers against the savages. He rushed 
 23 
 
354 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 upon one fellow, who stumbled and fell, and as 
 lie rose, he ran him through. By the aid of a 
 torch he recognized the man he had slain as 
 William More. Gazing on the face of his enemy, 
 Philip said: 
 
 "So he is the renegade, who has helped aug- 
 ment our woes." 
 
 This fight ended the war. 
 
 Meanwhile affairs in England were shaping 
 themselves so as to effect great changes in Virginia. 
 The king of England had become jealous of the 
 London Company, and had long wished to get the 
 colony under his own control. On the last day of 
 July, 1623, the attorney-general, to whom the con- 
 duct of the company was referred, gave it as his 
 opinion that the .king might justly resume the gov- 
 ernment of Virginia, and should they not voluntar- 
 ily yield, could call in the patent by legal proceed- 
 ings. In pursuance of this advice, the king, in 
 October, by an order in council, made known to the 
 company that the calamities of the colony in Vir- 
 ginia, were in consequence of their ill government; 
 that he resolved, by a new charter, to reserve to him- 
 self the appointment of the officers in England, a 
 negative on appointments in Virginia, and the su- 
 preme control of colonial affairs. From this time 
 on, a bitter warfare was waged between the king and 
 the London Company, until 1624, when the com- 
 
colonial matters. Sir Francis Wyatt was, 
 1626, succeeded by Sir George Yeardley, and, i 
 spite the speculations of designing politicians, a 
 ambitious monarchs, Virginia prospered and gr 
 to a mighty state. 
 
 Philip Stevens spent the remainder of his di 
 at Jamestown, where he had devoted his youth 
 the upbuilding of the colony. He received lett 
 from Captain Smith until the latter's death. I 
 eldest son he named for the Father of Virgin 
 John Smith Stevens. It was several years bef< 
 he and his father set out for North Virginia, 
 visit the long-lost brother and son. Then both : 
 turned to Virginia to pass the remainder of th 
 lives in peace. 
 
 The End. 
 
HISTOEIOAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Acadia 290 
 
 Aceomac, Smith at 155 
 
 Acts, first, of House of Burgesses 317 
 
 Amidas, Philip, sent with Raleigh's colony 32 
 
 Alexander VI. , papal grant 25 
 
 A new charter granted to Virginia 244 
 
 Application to King James for a charter 71 
 
 Argall as governor of Virginia 313 
 
 Argall assaults Port Eoyal 300 
 
 Argall at Mount Desert 296 
 
 Argall makes Pocahontas a prisoner 248 
 
 Argall recalled 315 
 
 Argall's plan 246 
 
 Argall's voyage to the north 294 
 
 Arrival of Gates, Sommers, and Newport 242 
 
 Arrival of Lord De la Ware 243 
 
 Arrival of ship-load of maids 329 
 
 Attack on Smith's party 155 
 
 Attempt of Pamunkee to assassinate Smith 202 
 
 Baptism of Pocahontas 262 
 
 Barlow, Arthur, commands Raleigh's expedition .... 32 
 
 Boleyn, Anne 26 
 
 Burgesses, House of, in Virginia 316 
 
 Cabot's, Sebastian, discoveries 24 
 
 Cape Cod discovered by Gosnold 62 
 
 Cape Henry 79 
 
 357 
 
358 HISTORICAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Cassen, George, captured and killed 97 
 
 Catharine of Arragon 27 
 
 Cavendish, Thomas 34 
 
 Champlain, Lieut. -Gen. of Canada 289 
 
 Champlain's explorations 290 
 
 Charter, first English, for possessions in America 72 
 
 Charter granted May 6, 1609 212 
 
 Chesapeake Bay discovered 16 
 
 Chesapeake Bay explored by Smith 154 
 
 Colonists detained by storms and adverse winds 76 
 
 Colonists in Chesapeake Bay 79 
 
 Colonists looking for a settlement 81 
 
 Colonists lose reckoning 79 
 
 Colonists meet Indians 81 
 
 Colony about to return to England 243 
 
 Colony reduced to want 144 
 
 Columbus, Bartholomew, in England 22 
 
 Condition of colonists 87 
 
 Conspiracy against Smith 148 
 
 Council for Virginia 80 
 
 Crowning Powhatan 171 
 
 Dale first hears of the coming marriage of Rolfe and 
 
 Pocahontas 264 
 
 Dale sails for England with Pocahontas and husband 278 
 
 Dale sets out to seek Powhatan 263 
 
 Dale, Sir Thomas, arrival of 244 
 
 Dale's letter to England 273 
 
 Dare, Virginia, first child born of English parents in 
 
 the New World 37 
 
 Death of Pocahontas 285 
 
 De la Ware brings a change for better 244 
 
 De Monts sails for America 271 
 
 Departure of Captain John Smith from Jamestown . . 235 
 
 Disaster to English at Jamestown 203 
 
 Drake at Roanoke 16 
 
HISTORICAL INDEX. 359 
 
 PAGE) 
 
 Drake captures San Juan de Pinas 5 
 
 Drake captures St. Augustine 5 
 
 Drake, character of t 2 
 
 Drake's fleet scattered by a storm 17 
 
 Drake, Sir Francis, on Florida coast 1 
 
 Drake takes Lane's colony to England 17 
 
 Dutchmen 182 
 
 Emigrants of a better class 244 
 
 Emry goes with Smith 94 
 
 England, condition of, in the 15th and 16th centuries. 50 
 
 English entrapped 191 
 
 English ignorance prior to Shakespeare and Spencer. 59 
 
 England seizes Acadia 302 
 
 English warned against Powhatan 156 
 
 Escape of Paspahegh 211 
 
 Falls of James River, colony established at 213 
 
 Fernando, naval commander of White's expedition.. . 36 
 
 Fight between Captain Smith and the Indian giant. . . 209 
 
 Fire at Jamestown 144 
 
 First cargo from Virginia 174 
 
 Francis and Dutchmen plan the destruction of Smith 
 
 and colony 188 
 
 Francis escapes to Powhatan 206 
 
 Francis with four Dutch carpenters sent to build Pow- 
 hatan's house 185 
 
 French turn their attention to the New World 288 
 
 Frobisher, Martin, Vice- Admiral 4 
 
 Frobisher's voyage 29 
 
 Gaboto, Giovanni 23 
 
 Gates as governor 244 
 
 Gates, Sir Thomas, one of commissioners 212 
 
 Gilbert, Sir Humphrey, lost at sea 31 
 
 Gilbert, Sir Humphrey, obtains patent 30 
 
 Glass-house 206 
 
 Gold excitement at Jamestown .,..,.,.. 143 
 
360 HISTORICAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Gorges, Fernando, gathering material for history of 
 
 American Indians 70 
 
 Gosnold, Bartholomew, on coast of Maine 62 
 
 Gosnold induces others to join in a colonization of 
 
 America 70 
 
 Grenville orders Indian town burned 35 
 
 Grenville, Sir Richard 34 
 
 Guns and swords stolen by Indians 188 
 
 Hakluyt, Sir Richard, one of Raleigh's assigns 38 
 
 Half Moon, Hudson's ship 217 
 
 Hardships of Smith and his followers 176 
 
 Harriott, Thomas, historian of Raleigh's colony 34 
 
 Henry VII. and America 25 
 
 Henry VIII. Divorce, effect on America 26 
 
 Hore of London's expedition 27 
 
 Hudson discovers Delaware Bay 218 
 
 Hudson discovers Hudson's Bay and Strait 220 
 
 Hudson discovers New York harbor and Hudson River 218 
 
 Hudson's fate 220 
 
 Hudson, Henry 216 
 
 Hudson sails from Gravesend 217 
 
 Hunt, Robert, clergyman 70 
 
 Indian hostilities continued 245 
 
 Indians pilfering from English 145 
 
 Indians sent home with presents 130 
 
 Indians try to bribe Smith 110 
 
 Indians try to carry off cannon and mill-stones 129 
 
 Indian war, first, April 1, 1622 351 
 
 Jack o' the Feather 350 
 
 James River, colonists enter 79 
 
 Jamestown founded 82 
 
 Jamestown when Smith left it 236 
 
 Japazaws betrays Pocahontas 247 
 
 Kecoughton, skirmish at 84 
 
 Kendall shot at Jamestown for conspiracy 85 
 
HISTORICAL INDEX. 361 
 
 PAGE 
 
 King James jealous of Rolfe 280 
 
 King of Paspahegh attacks Captain Smith 209 
 
 Knolles, Francis, Rear Admiral 4 
 
 Lane, Ralph, goes to Roanoke colony 14 
 
 Lane's expedition up the Roanoke 15 
 
 Lane's explorations 16 
 
 Last colony 4 
 
 Legislature, first, in Virginia 244 
 
 London Company 72 
 
 London Company, dissolution of 355 
 
 Lord De la Ware, Captain General of the London colony 212 
 
 Machot, Pocahontas at 263 
 
 Mahicannituck, Indian name for Hudson River 219 
 
 Manteo invested with rank of baron as " Lord of Ro- 
 anoke" 37 
 
 Marriage, first, in Virginia 184 
 
 Marriage of Pocahontas 267 
 
 Martha's Vineyard, Pring at 63 
 
 Mauritius, Indian name for Hudson River 219 
 
 M. de Chastes obtains charter for settlements in New 
 
 France 289 
 
 Messenger saved by Pocahontas 204 
 
 Messenger to Powhatan 263 
 
 Names of Virginia council for Virginia in a sealed 
 
 chest 76 
 
 Namontuch given to Newport 140 
 
 Nansemond, colony at 213 
 
 Negro slave trade 321 
 
 Negroes first in Virginia 320 
 
 New Amsterdam, colony of 219 
 
 Newfoundland discovered by Cabot 24 
 
 Newfoundland fisheries under Edward 28 
 
 Newport and Smith go to Werowocomoco 138 
 
 Newport, Captain, has Smith arrested 78 
 
 Newport obtains a new charter 212 
 
362 HISTORICAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Newport, one of the commissioners 212 
 
 Newport outwitted by Powhatan 141 
 
 Newport's folly and jealousy 137 
 
 Newport's presents for Powhatan 165 
 
 Newport returns to Jamestown 135 
 
 Newport sails for England 84 
 
 Newport sails with the first cargo from Virginia .... 174 
 
 Newport ventures on shore 140 
 
 No-Man's-Land discovered by Gosnold 63 
 
 Nonsuch, colony established 215 
 
 Opechancanough and warriors attack Smith 101 
 
 Opechancanough and Governor Wyatt 350 
 
 Opechancanough betrays Smith 195 
 
 Opechancanough, king of Pamunkee 105 
 
 Opechancanough refuses to give corn 193 
 
 Opechancanough saves Smith's life 107 
 
 Opechancanough seized by Smith 199 
 
 Opechancanough 's kind treatment of Smith 107 
 
 Opitchapam deposed by Opechancanough 349 
 
 Opitchapam, Smith at 110 
 
 Pamunkee, Smith at 193 
 
 Patuxent, Smith at 156 
 
 Phoenix, arrival of 144 
 
 Plymouth Company 72 
 
 Plymouth in the latter part of the 16th century 49 
 
 Pocahontas asks for prisoners, Smith yields 153 
 
 Pocahontas baptized 262 
 
 Pocahontas captured 248 
 
 Pocahontas' child, Thomas Eolfe, born 272 
 
 Pocahontas' death 285 
 
 Pocahontas entertains her guests 167 
 
 Pocahontas informs her brother that she is to wed an 
 
 Englishman 264 
 
 Pocahontas in London 279 
 
 Pocahontas, marriage of 267 
 
HISTORICAL INDEX. 363 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Pocahontas' meeting with Captain Smith 281 
 
 Pocahontas rescues Smith 120 
 
 Pocahontas removed from prison ship to Mrs. Eas- 
 
 ton's house. 261 
 
 Pocahontas sent to bring white men back to Werowo- 
 
 comoco 143 
 
 Pocahontas, story of 112 
 
 Pocahontas' true name Matoaka 266 
 
 Pocahontas visits Smith with presents 135 
 
 Pocahontas warns Smith 192 
 
 Pont-Greve's explorations 293 
 
 Poutrincourfs war with priests 292 
 
 Popham, Sir John, becomes interested in America. . . 71 
 
 Port Royal 291 
 
 Port Royal, capture of 300 
 
 Potomac, voyage of Smith up 156 
 
 Powhatan, death of 316 
 
 Powhatan gives Newport another Indian boy 143 
 
 Powhatan, Indian emperor 83 
 
 Powhatan receives the English 139 
 
 Powhatan refuses to go to Jamestown 170 
 
 Powhatan's answer to Dale 269 
 
 Powhatan sends for cannon and grindstones 126 
 
 Powhatan, Smith before 115 
 
 Powhatan's message 184 
 
 Powhatan spares Smith 122 
 
 Pring's, Martin, discoveries on the coast of Maine. . . 63 
 
 Quarrel between Smith and Powhatan 187 
 
 Quebec laid out 293 
 
 Queen Elizabeth frees England from papal influence.. 28 
 
 Queen Mary recognizes papal bull 28 
 
 Queen of Appomatox 116 
 
 Raleigh, a pupil of Coligni 30 
 
 Raleigh determined to plant an agricultural state 36 
 
 Raleigh, execution of 75 
 
364 HISTORICAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Raleigh, impoverished, assigns his patent 38 
 
 Raleigh in prison 74 
 
 Raleigh knighted by Elizabeth 34 
 
 Raleigh's charter granted, 1584 32 
 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter, plants a colony at Roanoke 14 
 
 Rawbunt and the cannon 129 
 
 Roanoke, English colony at 14 
 
 Roanoke Island, English received 33 
 
 Robinson and Emry go with Smith 94 
 
 Radcliffe again makes trouble 237 
 
 Radcliffe and Archer propose to abandon the colony 
 
 at Jamestown 85 
 
 Radcliffe, death of 240 
 
 Rappahannock, Smith on 157 
 
 Rolfe first meets Pocahontas 251 
 
 Rolfe, John 243 
 
 San Juan de Pinos captured by Drake 5 
 
 Search for minerals 157 
 
 Sea Venture wrecked 212 
 
 Sicklemore sent in search of Raleigh's lost colony. . . . 186 
 Sir Edwin Sandys' plan for furnishing wives for Vir- 
 ginians 323 
 
 Sir Edwin Sandys' treasure of London Company 315 
 
 Slaves first brought to "Virginia 320 
 
 Smith and colony sail for America 75 
 
 Smith and the king of Paspahegh 209 
 
 Smith and the malcontents 77 
 
 Smith appointed admiral of New England 278 
 
 Smith arrested and imprisoned 78 
 
 Smith betrayed by his guide 99 
 
 Smith brings back the traitors 132 
 
 Smith, Captain John 68 
 
 Smith captured 105 
 
 Smith captures idol dkee 84 
 
 Smith chosen president of colony, but declines 159 
 
HISTORICAL INDEX. 865 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Smith condemned to die 118 
 
 Smith compels Indians to give him food 175 
 
 Smith falls into a morass . . .» 10 
 
 Smith goes with Newport to Werowocomoco 138 
 
 Smith leaves Virginia forever 235 
 
 Smith makes a map of the Chesapeake 161 
 
 Smith meets Pocahontas in England 281 
 
 Smith outwits the Indians Ill 
 
 Smith refuses to give up Indian captives 153 
 
 Smith reserves prisoners 151 
 
 Smith prevents Wingfield and Kendall from abandon- 
 ing the colony 85 
 
 Smith promised his freedom 124 
 
 Smith's advance up the river 97 
 
 Smith set at liberty 126 
 
 Smith sets out to find the great South Sea 93 
 
 Smith severely wounded 224 
 
 Smith's explorations 160 
 
 Smith's fatherly care of colony 86 
 
 Smith's fears 113 
 
 Smith's fight with the Indians 100 
 
 Smith, Sir Thomas, superseded as treasurer of Lon- 
 don Company by Sir Edwin Sandys 315 
 
 Smith's journey and trials as a captive ; arrival at 
 
 Orapakes 107 
 
 Smith's journey through the forest 127 
 
 Smith lectures to Indians 106 
 
 Smith's letter to Jamestown 109 
 
 Smith's return to Jamestown in time to frustrate a 
 
 conspiracy 128 
 
 Smith's ruse to obtain food 142 
 
 Smith stung by a fish 158 
 
 Smith, the slave of Pocahontas 123 
 
 Smith threatens the Pamunkees 202 
 
 Smith tried and acquitted 84 
 
866 HISTORICAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Sommers, Sir George, one of commissioners 212 
 
 Spies in Jamestown 128 
 
 Starving time 241 
 
 St. Augustine destroyed by Drake 6 
 
 Thieves in Jamestown 145 
 
 Trouble again at Jamestown 226 
 
 Trouble at Nonsuch 222 
 
 Unselfish devotion of Pocahontas 192 
 
 Virginia Dare 37 
 
 Virginia, how named 33 
 
 Virginia scenery 80 
 
 Waraskoyack, Smith at 185 
 
 Werowocomoco, Smith at 113 
 
 "West asks for release of the mutineers 221 
 
 "West sails for England 241 
 
 White finds colony deserted 42 
 
 "White, John, governor of Virginia colony 36 
 
 Wife-ship, the 326 
 
 Willoughby, Sir Hugh, perishes in attempt to follow 
 
 instructions of Cabot 28 
 
 Wingfield elected president 82 
 
 Wingfield's conspiracy 84 
 
 Wingina, king, murdered by English 15 
 
 Winne, Captain, opposes Smith's plan to get corn. . . . 184 
 Written constitutions granted to inhabitants of Vir- 
 ginia in 1621 342 
 
 Wyatt brings the new constitution 349 
 
 Yeardly, governor of Virginia 315 
 
 Zeal of Captain Smith for the good of the colony 231 
 
CHKONOLOGY. 
 
 PERIOD IV.— AGE OF COLONIZATION. 
 A.D. 1570 to a.d. 1620. 
 
 1576. Fbobisheb, seeking route to India, cruised about 
 Newf oun d 1 and . 
 
 1579. Sir Francis Drake explored the Pacific Coast. 
 New Albion. (Sir Francis Drake was the first 
 Englishman to circumnavigate the globe.) 
 
 1582. Calendar op Pope Gregory XIII.,— October 5 
 
 made October 15. 
 Santa Fe, N. M., founded by Espejo.— Second 
 oldest European town in the United States. 
 
 1583. Sir Humphrey Gilbert attempted the settlement 
 
 of Newfoundland. 
 
 1584. Sir Walter Raleigh sent Amidas and Barlow to 
 
 explore the coast of Carolina. 
 Virginia named in honor of Elizabeth, the virgin 
 queen. 
 
 1585. Raleigh's second expedition. — Grenville at- 
 
 tempted to settle Roanoke Island. 
 
 1586. Sir Francis Drake devastated Spanish settle- 
 
 ments on the Florida coast. 
 
 1587. Raleigh's third expedition. — John "White at- 
 
 tempted to settle Roanoke Island. 
 "Virginia Dare," the first white child born in 
 America of English parents. 
 367 
 
868 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 1602. Gosnold explored the southeast coast of New Eng- 
 
 land ; Named Cape Cod. 
 
 1603. Accession of James I. to the throne of England,— 
 
 March 24. 
 Champlain explored the coast of Newfoundland. 
 
 1605. Port Royal, N. S. (now Annapolis) , settled under 
 
 De Monts, — Province named Acadia. (Port 
 Eoyal was the first permanent French settle- 
 ment in America.) 
 
 1606. James I. charters the London Company, 
 
 South Virginia, 34° to 38° lat. , and from ocean 
 to ocean ; also Plymouth Company, North 
 Virginia, 41° to 45° lat.,— April 10. (Both 
 companies had jurisdiction from 38° to 41° 
 lat.) 
 
 1607. Jamestown, Va., settled by the London Com- 
 
 pany, — May 13. 
 Settlement by the Plymouth Company at the 
 mouth of the Kennebec unsuccessful. 
 
 1608. Quebec settled by the French, under Champlain, — 
 
 July 3. 
 
 1609. Champlain discovered Lake Champlain,— July. 
 Henry Hudson, in the service of the Dutch, dis- 
 covered the Hudson River, — Sept. 6. 
 
 1610. "Starving Time" in Virginia; absence of Cap- 
 
 tain John Smith. 
 
 1613. Pocahontas and John Rolpe wed, — April. 
 
 1614. Captain John Smith explored coast of and named 
 
 New England. 
 New Netherlands granted to the Amsterdam 
 
 Company; 40° to 45° lat., and sea to sea, — 
 
 Oct. 11. 
 New Amsterdam (now New York City) settled 
 
 by the Dutch. 
 
 1615. Fort Orange (now Albany, N. Y.) settled. 
 
 1616. The culture of tobacco begun in Virginia. 
 
CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 1619. First Representative Assembly in America 
 
 at Jamestown, Va., — July 30. 
 Negro slavery introduced at Jamestown b; 
 Dutch, — August. 
 
 1620. Wives sent to Virginia for the Colonists. 
 
THE 
 
 COLUMBIAN HISTORICAL NOVELS. 
 
 A Complete History of Our Country, from the Time of Columbus 
 down to the present Day, in the form of Twelve Complete 
 Stories. By John R. Musick. Uniform Size and 
 Style; 8vo, Half Morocco, and Cloth Bind- 
 ings, One Hundred Half-Tone Plates, 
 Maps of the Period, and numer- 
 ous Pen and Ink Drawings 
 by F. A. Carter. 
 
 TITLES : 
 
 Vol. I. Columbia: A Story of the Discovery of America. 
 
 Vol. II. Estevan : A Story of the Spanish Conquests. 
 
 Vol. III. St. Augustine : A Story of the Huguenots. 
 
 Vol. , IV. Pocahontas : A Story of Virginia. 
 
 Vol. V. The Pilgrims: A Story of Massachusetts. 
 
 Vol. VI. A Century Too Soon : A Story of Bacon's Rebellion. 
 
 Vol. VII. The Witch of Salem ; or, Credulity Run Mad. 
 
 Vol. VIII. Braddock : A Story of the French and Indian Wars. 
 
 Vol. IX. Independence : A Story of the American Revolution. 
 
 Vol. X. Sustained Honor : A Story of the War of 1812. 
 
 Vol. XI. Humbled Pride : A Story of the Mexican War. 
 
 Vol, XII. Union : A Story of the Great Rebellion and of Events 
 down to the Present Day. 
 
 The Historical Divisions are : 1st. Age of Discovery ; 2d. 
 Conquest ; 3d. Bigotry ; 4th. Colonization ; 5th. Reason ; 6th. 
 Tyranny ; 7th. Superstition ; 8th. Contention of Powers for 
 Supremacy ; gth. Independence ; 10th. Liberty Established ; 
 nth. Supremacy Abroad ; 12th. Union. 
 
 FUNK & WAQNALLS COHPANY, Publishers, 
 
 30 Lafayette Place, New York. 
 
 LONDON: TORONTO, CAN.: 
 
 44 Fleet Street. " Richmond St., W.