When
Capt. John Smith was on trial before
Powhatan, two of the emperor's daughters occupied seats near him, one on each side of the “throne.”
One of these was Matoa, or
Pocahontas, who subsequently made a conspicuous figure in
Virginia history.
When
Smith was brought before Powhatan, the scene that ensued was impressive.
There were at least 200 warriors present.
The emperor wore a mantle of raccoon skins and a headdress of eagle's feathers.
The room was a long house, or arbor, made of boughs.
The warriors stood in rows on each side in their gayest attire, and back of them as many women, with their necks painted red, their heads covered with the white down of birds, and strings of white beads falling over their bosoms.
The captive was received with a shout, when the “
Queen of
Appomattox” brought water for him to wash his hands, and another woman a bunch of feathers to dry them with.
Then he was feasted, and afterwards a solemn council was held, by which he was doomed to die. Two large stones were brought before the emperor, when
Smith was dragged to them, his arms were pinioned, and his head placed upon them.
Pocahontas petitioned her father to spare the captive's life, but in vain.
Huge clubs were raised by strong men to beat out his brains, when
Pocahontas, the
“king's dearest daughter,” who,
Smith says in his narrative, was “sixteen or
[
233]
eighteen years” old, sprang from her father's side, clasped the prisoner's head with her arms, and laid her own head upon his.
Powhatan yielded to his daughter, and consented to spare
Smith, who was released and sent with an Indian escort to
Jamestown.
The emperor and his people promised to be friends of the
English.
Two years after this event the Indians conspired to exterminate the white people.
Again
Pocahontas was an angel of deliverance to them.
She heard of the plan, and on a dark and stormy night left her father's cabin, sped to
Jamestown, informed
Smith of the danger, and was back to her couch before the dawn.
The
English regarded the gentle Indian princess with great affection; and yet, when
Smith had left the colony, and the Indians, offended, would help them to food no longer, that kind girl was ruthlessly torn from her kindred by a rude sea captain and kept a prisoner several months (see
Argall, Samuel). That wicked act proved a blessing to the colony.
While she was a captive mutual love was engendered between
Pocahontas and
John Rolfe, a young Englishman of good family and education.
He was a Christian, she was a pagan.
“Is it not my duty,” he said, “to lead the blind into light?”
He labored for her enlightenment and conversion, and succeeded.
The young princess was baptized at a font “hollowed out like a canoe” in the little chapel at
Jamestown, whose columns were rough pinetrees; its rude pews were of “sweetsmelling cedar,” and the rough communion-table and pulpit of black walnut.
She received the
Christian name of Rebecca—the first Christian convert in
Virginia.
[
234]
Not long afterwards—on a charming day in April, 1613—Pocahontas, with her father's consent, stood before the chancel of the chapel with
Rolfe, a young widower, her affianced, and was married to him by
the Rev. Mr. Whittaker, the rector.
All the people of
Jamestown were pleased spectators.
The chapel was trimmed with evergreens, wild flowers, and scarlet-berried holly.
Pocahontas was dressed in a simple tunic of white muslin from the looms of Dacca.
On her head was a long and flowing veil, and hanging loosely to her feet was a robe of rich stuff presented by the governor,
Sir Thomas Dale, fancifully embroidered by herself and her maidens.
A gaudy fillet encircled her head, and held the plumage of birds of gorgeous colors, while her wrists and ankles were adorned with the simple jewelry of the native workshops.
When the ceremony was ended, the eucharist was administered, with bread from the wheat-fields around
Jamestown and wine from the grapes of the adjacent forest.
Her brothers and sisters and forest maidens were present; also the governor and council, and five Englishwomen—all that were in the colony—who afterwards returned to
England.
Rolfe and his spouse “lived civilly and lovingly together” until
Governor Dale returned to
England (1616), when they and the Englishwomen in
Virginia accompanied him.
The “
Lady Rebecca” received great attentions at Court and from all below it. She was entertained by the
Lord Bishop of
London, and at Court she was treated with the respect due to the daughter of a monarch.
The silly King James was angry because one of his subjects dared marry a
lady of royal blood! And
Captain Smith, for fear of displeasing t h e royal bigot, would not allow her to call him “father,” as she desired to do, and her loving heart was grieved.
The
King, in his absurd dreams of the divinity of the royal prerogative, imagined
Rolfe or his descendants might claim the crown of
Virginia on behalf of his royal wife; and he asked the privy council if the husband had not committed treason!
Pocahontas remained in
England about a year; and when, with her husband and son, she was about to return to
Virginia, with her father's chief councillor, she was seized with small-pox at
Gravesend, and died in June, 1617.
Her remains lie within the parish church-yard at
Gravesend.
Her son,
Thomas Rolfe, afterwards became a distinguished man in
Virginia, and his descendants are found among the most honorable citizens of that commonwealth.
