CHAPTER III.
The family of Powhatan—His successor—Sequel of the history of Pocahontas—Her acts of kindness to the colonists at various times, and especially to Smith—His gratitude—Her civilisation, and instruction in Christianity—Her visit to England in 1616—Reception at Court—Interview with Smith—His memorial respecting her to Queen Anne—Her death and character—Her descendants.
The family of Powhatan was numerous and influential. Two sons and two daughters have already been mentioned. There were also three brothers younger than himself; and upon them successively, according to their several ages, custom seems to have required that the government should devolve after his own death. The eldest, Opitchipan, [FN] accordingly succeeded him, in form at least. But this prince was an inactive and unambitious man—owing in some degree perhaps to his being decrepit; and he was soon thrown into the shade by the superior energy and talent of Opechancanough, who before many years engrossed in fact the whole power of the government. Of the younger brother, Kekataugh, scarcely any thing is known. He probably died before any opportunity occurred of signalizing himself in a public station. The sequel of the history of Opechancanough is well worthy of being dwelt upon at some length; but previously, the order of time requires us to devote a share of attention to the fortunes of his celebrated niece, Pocahontas.
[FN] By various writers called Itopatin, Itoyatin, Oetan, Opitchipan, Toyatan—a characteristic instance of the uncertainty which attends the orthography of Indian proper names. One cause is in the custom of changing the name upon great occasions. Opitchipan himself after his accession was called Sasawpen; and Opechancanough, Mangopesomen.
This beautiful and amiable woman, whom John Smith, in the excess of his admiration, styles "the Numpareil of Virginia," has been distinguished in modern times, chiefly, by that single extraordinary act of courage and humanity to which the gallant historian was indebted for the preservation of his life. But this was by no means the only evidence of these noble qualities which history has preserved. Her name indeed is scarcely once mentioned by the most ancient chronicles of the colony, except in terms of high eulogy, and generally in connexion also with some substantial facts going strongly to justify the universal partiality with which her memory is regarded to these times.
In the earliest and most gloomy days of the settlement, immediately after Smith's return from his captivity, the liberal and thoughtful kindness of Pocahontas went very far to cheer the desponding hearts of the colonists, as well as to relieve their actual necessities. She came into Jamestown with her attendants once in every four or five days, for a long time; and brought with her supplies of provisions, by which many lives are stated to have been saved. This will appear more fully from an ancient document which we shall hereafter transcribe at length.
When Smith was absent upon one of his Indian expeditions, emergencies occurred at Jamestown which rendered his presence extremely desirable. But not a man could be found who dared venture to carry a message to him from the council. He was known to be environed by enemies, and the hostility and power of Powhatan were at that period subjects of the most exaggerated apprehension. One Richard Wyffin at last undertook the hazardous enterprise. Encountering many dangers and difficulties, he reached the residence of Powhatan, a day or two after Smith had left it for Pamunkey. He found that great preparations for war were going on among the Powhatans; and he soon became himself the object of suspicion. His life undoubtedly would have paid the forfeit of his rashness, had not Pocahontas, who knew his perilous situation even better than himself, concealed him, and thwarted and embarrassed the search of the savages who pursued him, so that "by her means and extraordinary bribes and much trouble in three days travell," as history says, "at length he found vs in the middest of these turmoyles," (at Jamestown.)
Her conduct was the same after Smith's departure for England. Of the thirty men who accompanied Ratcliffe when he was massacred by the Indians, only one escaped to the colony, and one was rescued by Pocahontas. This was a boy named Henry Spilman, who subsequently was restored to his friends, [FN-1] and from the knowledge of Indian languages which he obtained during his residence with the Patowomekes proved highly serviceable as an interpreter. Smith himself was more than once under obligations to the princess for his personal safety. We have alluded to that occasion when he quartered, over night, near the residence of her father. "Pocahontas, his dearest iewell and daughter, in that darke night came through the irksome woods, and told our Captaine great cheare should be sent vs by and by; but Powhatan and all the power he could make, would after come kill vs all, if they that brought it could not kill vs with our owne weapons, when we were at supper. Therefore if we would liue, she wished vs presently to be gone. Such things as she delighted in, he would haue giuen her; but with the teares running downe her cheekes, she said she durst not be seen to haue any, for if Powhatan should know it, she were but dead, and so she ran away by herself as she came." [FN-2] What an affecting instance of the most delicate tenderness mingled with the loftiest courage.
[FN-1] He was destined, however, to die at last by the hands of the savages, in 1623.
[FN-2] Smith's History.
It would have been strange indeed, if Smith, with all his passionate chivalry, had been insensible of these repeated kindnesses. Even Powhatan had too good an opinion of him to suppose so, for he had the sagacity to rely upon his gratitude for political purposes. When some of the emperor's subjects were taken prisoners by Smith, (although peace was nominally existing,) and forced to confess that Powhatan had employed them to work mischief against the colony, the latter "sent messengers, and his dearest daughter Pocahontas," with presents, to make apologies for the past, and promises for the future. Smith, on the other hand, (who understood as well as any one, the part of a gentleman,) after giving the prisoners such correction as he deemed necessary, treated them well for a day or two, and then delivered them to Pocahontas, "for whose sake onely he fayned to have saued their liues, and gaue them libertie." The emperor was paid for this ingenuity in his own coin, when the colonists, in 1613, took the princess herself captive, relying on the well-known strength of his attachment to her, as the surest means of procuring peace.
Her subsequent history may be soon told. Rolfe had become ardently enamoured of her beauty, and he used the fortunate occasion of her stay in the colony—perhaps was active in bringing it on—to procure the intercession of the President in his behalf. Pocahontas cherished similar feelings towards himself and when her brothers came to visit her she made one of them her confidant. Rolfe gained information of her sentiments, and thus was emboldened to prosecute his suit with a spirit worthy of the success which it met with. The parties married. In the course of a year or two, the young bride became quite an adept in the English language and manners, and was well instructed in the doctrines-of Christianity. She was entitled by her new acquaintances the Lady Rebecca.
In 1616, she and her husband accompanied Sir Thomas Dale to England. King James, (that anointed pedant, as Stith calls him,) is said to have been offended with Rolfe for his presumption in marrying the daughter of a king—a crowned head, too, it will be recollected.—He might have thought, perhaps, following up his own principles, that the offspring of the marriage would be fairly entitled to succeed Powhatan in his dominion. But the affair passed off, with some little murmuring; and Pocahontas herself was received at Court, by both the King and Queen, with the most flattering marks of attention. Lord de la War, and his lady, and many other courtiers of rank, followed the royal example. The princess was gratified by the kindness shown to her; and those who entertained her, on the other hand, were unanimously of opinion, as Smith expresses himself; that they had seen many English ladies worse-favored, proportioned and behaviored.
The captain was at this time in England; and although upon the eve of leaving that country on a voyage to New England, he delayed his departure for the purpose of using every possible means in his power of introducing the princess to advantage. A memorial which he draughted with his own hand, and sent in to the Queen, is supposed to have had no little influence at Court. It is well worth transcribing, both as a curiosity of style, and as a document of authentic history. It reads thus:
"To the most high and vertuous Princess Queene Anne of Great Britain:
"Most admired Queene,
"The loue I beare my God, my King and Countrie hath so oft emboldened mee in the worst of extreme danger, that now honestie doth constraine mee presume thus farre beyond myselfe, to present your Maiestie this short discourse. If ingratitude be a deadly poyson to all honest vertues, I must be guiltie of that crime if I should omit any meanes to be thankful. So it is,
"That some ten yeeres agoe, being in Virginia, and taken prisoner by the power of Powhatan their chiefe King, I received from this great Salvage exceeding great courtesie, especially from his sonne Nantaguans, the most manliest, comeliest, boldest spirit I euer saw in a salvage; and his sister Pocahontas, the King's most deare and well-beloued daughter, being but a childe of twelue or thirteene yeeres of age, whose compassionate pitifull heart, of desperate estate, gaue mee much cause to respect her; I being the first christian this proud King and his grim attendants euer saw; and thus inthralled in their barbarous power, I cannot say I felt the least occasion of want that was in the power of those my mortall foes to preuent, notwithstanding al their threats.
"After some sixe weeks fatting among these Salvage Courtiers, at the minute of my execution, she hazarded the beating out of her owne braines to saue mine, but not onely that, but so preuailed with her father, that I was safely conducted to Iames-towne, where I found about eight and thirtie miserable poore and sicke creatures, to keepe possession of al those large territories of Virginia; such was the weaknesse of this poore commonwealth, as had the salvages not fed us, we directly had starued.
"And this reliefe, most Gracious Queens, was commonly brought vs by this Lady Pocahontas, Notwithstanding al these passages, when inconstant fortune, turned our peace to warre, this tender Virgin would still not spare to dare to visit vs, and by her our iarres haue been oft appeased, and our wants still supplyed. Were it the policie of her father thus to imploy her, or the ordinance of God thus to make her his instrument, or her extraordinarie affection to our nation, I know not. But of this I am sure; when her father, with the utmost of his policie and power, sought to surprise mee, hauing but eighteene with mee, the darke night could not affright her from comming through the irkesome woods, and with watered eies gaue me intilligence, with her best aduice, to escape his furie; which had hee knowne, he had surely slaine her.
"Iames-toune, with her wild traine, she as freely frequented as her father's habitation; and during the time of two or three yeeres, she next under God, was still the instrument to preserve this colonie from death, famine and utter confusion, which if in those times had once been disolued, Virginia might haue line as it was at our first arrivall to this day.
"Since then, this businesse hauing beene turned and varied by many accidents from that I left it at, it is most certaine, after a long and troublesome warre after my departure, betwixt her father and our colonie, at which time shee was not heard off, about two yeeres after she her selfe was taken prisoner. Being so detained neere two yeeres longer, the colonie by that means was relieued, peace concluded, and at last reiecting her barbarous condition, shee was maried to an English gentleman, with whom at this present shee is in England; the first Christian euer of that nation, the first Virginian euer spake English, or had a childe in marriage by an Englishman. A matter, surely, if my meaning bee truly considered and well vnderstood, worthy a Prince's vnderstanding.
"Thus, most Gracious Lady, I have related to your Maiestie, what at your best leasure our approued Histories will account you at large, and done in the time of your Maiestie's life; and howeuer this might bee presented you from a more worthy pen, it cannot from a more honest heart. As yet I neuer begged any thing of the state, or any, and it is my want of abilitie and her exceeding desert, your birth meanes and authoritie, her birth, vertue, want and simplicitie, doth make mee thus bold, humbly to beseech your Maiestie to take this knowledge of her, though it bee from one so vnworthy to be the reporter as my selfe, her husband's estate not being able to make her fit to attend your Maiestie. The most and least I can doe is to tell you this, because none so oft hath tried it as my selfe; and the rather being of so great a spirit, howeuer her stature.
"If shee should not be well recieued, seeing this kingdom may rightly haue a kingdom by her meanes, her present loue to vs and christianitie might turne to such scorne and furie, as to diuert al this good to the worst of euill; where [whereas] finding so great a Queene should doe her some honor more than she can imagine, for being so kinde to your seruants and subjects, would so rauish her with content, as endeare her dearest blood to effect that your Maiestie and al the King's honest subjects most earnestly desire. And so I humbly kisse your gracious hands."
The final interview between the gallant and generous writer of this memorial and the princess who was the subject of it, is an occasion too interesting to be passed over without notice. She had been told that Smith, whom she had not seen for many years, was dead; but why this information was given her, does not appear. Perhaps it was to make his appearance the more gratifying. Possibly, Master Rolfe, in the heat of his passion, during the critical period of courtship had deemed it advisable and justifiable to answer, to this effect, the anxious inquiries she would naturally make after Smith, especially during her confinement at Jamestown. But whatever the reason was, the shock of the first meeting had nearly overwhelmed her. She was staying at Brentford, after her visit to London, having retired thither to avoid the noise and smoke of the metropolis, which she was far from enjoying. Smith was announced and soon after made his appearance. She saluted him—modestly, he says himself; and coolly, according to some other writers—and then turning away from him, she covered her face, and seemed to be too much discomposed for conversation.
Undoubtedly she was deeply affected with a multitude of conflicting emotions, not the least of which was a just indignation on account of the imposition which the English had practised upon her. For two or three hours she was left to her own meditations. At the end of that time, after much entreaty, she was prevailed upon to converse; and this point "once gained, the politeness and kindness of her visitant and her own sweetness of disposition, soon renewed her usual vivacity."
In the course of her remarks she called Smith her Father. That appellation, as bestowed by a King's daughter, was too, much for the captain's modesty, and he informed her to that effect. But she could not understand his reasoning upon the subject. "Ah!" she said—after recounting some of the ancient courtesies which had passed between them—"you did promise Powhatan that what was yours should be his, and hee the like to you. You called him Father, being in his land a stranger; and by the same reason so must I doe you." Smith still expressed himself unworthy of that distinction, and she went on. "Were you not afraid to come into my father's countrie, and caused fear in him and all his people—but mee—and fear you I should here call you father? I tell you then I will; and you must call mee childe, and then I will bee foreuer and euer your country-woman." She assured Smith, that she had been made to believe he was dead, and that Powhatan himself had shared in that delusion. To ascertain the fact, however, to a certainty, that crafty barbarian had directed an Indian, who attended her to England, to make special inquiries. This was Tomocomo, one of the emperor's chief counselors, and the husband of his daughter Matachanna—perhaps the same who had been demanded in marriage by Sir Thomas Dale, in 1614.
It is the last and saddest office of history to record the death of this incomparable woman, in about the two-and-twentieth year of her age. This event took place at Gravesend, where she was preparing to embark for Virginia, with her husband, and the child mentioned in Smith's memorial. They were to have gone out with Captain Argall, who sailed early in 1617; and the treasurer and council of the colony had made suitable accommodations for them on board the admiral-ship. But, in the language of Smith, it pleased God to take this young lady to his mercy. He adds, that she made not more sorrow for her unexpected death, than joy to the beholders, to hear and see her make so religious and godly an end. Stith also, records that she died, as she had long lived, a most sincere and pious Christian. The expression of a later historian is, that her death was a happy mixture of Indian fortitude and Christian submission, affecting all those who saw her by the lively and edifying picture of piety and virtue, which marked her latter moments. [FN]
[FN] Burk's Virginia, Vol. I.
The same philosophic writer, in his general observations upon the character of Pocahontas, has justly remarked, that, considering all concurrent circumstances, it is not surpassed by any in the whole range of, history; and that for those qualities more especially which do honor to our nature—a humane and feeling heart, an ardor and unshaken constancy in her attachments—she stands almost without a rival. She gave evidence, indeed, of possessing in a high degree every attribute of mind and heart, which should be and has been the ornament and pride of civilized woman in all countries and times. Her unwearied kindness to the English was entirely disinterested; she knew that it must be so when she encountered danger and weariness, and every kind of opposition and difficulty, to bestow it, seasonably, on the objects of her noble benevolence. It was delicate, too, in the mode of bestowment. No favor was expected in return for it, and yet no sense of obligation was permitted to mar the pleasure which it gave. She asked nothing of Smith in recompense for whatever she had done, but the boon of being looked upon as his child. Of her character as a princess, evidence enough has already been furnished. Her dignity, her energy, her independence, and the dauntless courage which never deserted her for a moment, were worthy of Powhatan's daughter.
Indeed, it has been truly said that, well authenticated as is the history of Pocahontas, there is ground for apprehension that posterity will be disposed to regard her story as a romance. "It is not even improbable," says Burk, "that considering every thing relating to herself and Smith as a mere fiction, they may vent their spleen against the historian for impairing the interest of his plot by marrying the princess of Powhatan to a Mr. Rolfe, of whom nothing had been previously said, in defiance of all the expectations raised by the foregoing parts of the fable."
Young Rolfe, her only offspring was left at Plymouth, England, under the care of Sir Lewis Steukley, who undertook to direct his education—his tender years making it inexpedient to remove him to Virginia. As that gentleman was soon after completely beggared and disgraced by the part which he took in the proceedings against Sir Walter Raleigh, the tuition of Rolfe passed into the hands of his uncle, Henry Rolfe of London. He became in after years a man of eminence and fortune in Virginia, and inherited a considerable tract of land which had belonged to Powhatan. At his death he left an only daughter, who was married to Col. Robert Bolling. By him she had an only son, who was father to Col. John Bolling, (well known to many now living;) and several daughters married to Col. Richard Randolph, Col. John Fleming, Dr. William Gay, Mr. Thomas Eldridge and Mr. James Murray. This genealogy is taken from Stith; and he shows with sufficient minuteness, that this remnant of the imperial family of Virginia, which long survived in a single person, had branched out into a very numerous progeny, even as early as 1747. The Hon. John Randolph of Roanoke is, if we mistake not, a lineal descendant of the princess in the sixth degree.
CHAPTER IV.
Sequel of the history of Opechancanough—Renewal, by him and Opitchipan, of the treaty of peace—Finesse by which he extended his dominion over the Chickahominies—Preparations for War—Causes of it—Profound dissimulation under which his hostility was concealed—Indian custom of making Conjurers—Manœuvres against the English interest—The great massacre of 1622; circumstances and consequences of it—Particular occasion which led to it—Character and death of Nemattanow—Details of the war subsequent to the massacre—Truce broken by the English—New exertions of Opechancanough—Battle of Pamunkey—Peace of 1632—Massacre of 1641—Capture of Opechancanough by the English—His death and character.
Captain Argall brought out from England, among other things, a variety of presents for Opechancanough, who seems now to have been, notwithstanding that Powhatan was still living, the chief object of the colony's apprehension and regard. He lamented as the Indians did universally, the untimely fate of their favorite princess; but he also expressed himself satisfied with the care which had been taken of her son. Argall sent messengers to him immediately on his arrival at Jamestown; and the chieftain paid him a visit, and received his presents. Tomocomo, who returned with Argall, had conceived a dislike for Sir Thomas Dale, and he railed violently against him in particular, as he did against the English in general; but Opechancanough either was or affected to be convinced, that his anger and his accusations were equally groundless. On the death of Powhatan, in 1618, both himself and his royal brother Opitchipan renewed the ancient league of the emperor with the English; under the protection of which, we are told, every man peaceably followed his building and planting without any remarkable accidents or interruption. [FN]
[FN] Stith.
A transaction which occurred in 1616, furnishes the best comment we can give upon the character of Opechancanough. It appears, that President Yeardly at that time undertook to relieve the necessities of the colony by collecting tribute of the Chickahominies. But for some reason or other, that warlike people refused to pay it; and even sent him an answer to his demand, which he construed into an affront. He therefore called upon them, soon after, with a company of one hundred soldiers, well armed. Some threatening and bravado ensued on both sides, and a regular battle was the speedy consequence. The Indians were defeated, and as Yeardly was returning to Jamestown with his spoil, Opechancanough met him, and artfully effected an agreement with him, that he (Yeardly) would make no peace with the Chickahominies without his consent. He then went to that tribe, and pretended that, he had, with great pains and solicitation, procured a peace for them. To requite this immense service, as it was now considered, they cheerfully proclaimed him King of their nation, and flocked from all quarters with presents of beads and copper. From this time he was content to be entitled the King of Chickahominy; and thus was subjected to him, with their own free consent, a brave and resolute people, who had successfully resisted, for many years, the power of every savage and civilized foe.
The English historians generally agree in representing Opechancanough as an inveterate enemy of the English from first to last. Such may have been the case; and he might have had what appeared to him reason and occasion enough for his hostility. The character of many of the colonists was but too well calculated to thwart the best intentions on the part of the government, however peaceable and just might be their theory of Indian intercourse. The discontent of Tomocomo might have its effect, too, and especially among the mass of his countrymen. The pledge of harmony which had existed in the person of Pocahontas was forgotten. But above all, Opechancanough was too shrewd a man not to perceive, in the alarming disproportion which was daily showing itself between the power of the English and the Indians of Virginia—independently of particular provocations—a sure indication of the necessity of a new system of defence.
Subsequent events confirm this conjecture. No better preparation for a war could have been made on the chieftain's part, than he effected in the submission of the Chickahominies. It is not unlikely that he himself instigated, through his satellites, the very insolence whereby they drew upon themselves that severe chastisement from the colony, which increased his own influence over them as much as it aggravated their hostility to the English. We find that, in 1618, they committed several outrages of a most flagrant character; and although Opechancanough, who was applied to for satisfaction, promised to send in the heads of the offenders, this was never done, and it may be questioned, whether he was not privy to, or perhaps the chief author and contriver of the whole affair. At all events, historians represent, that his regal authority over the tribe was thereby "firmly riveted and established."
Still, not only had the artful chieftain given no open cause of offence or evidence of hostility; but he absolutely succeeded, as we have seen, in completely quieting the suspicions of the colonists. In 1620, indeed, we find it recorded in the journal of Mr. Rolfe, that "now Opechankanough will not come at vs; that causes vs suspect his former promises." But this little uneasiness was wholly done away, on the arrival of Sir Francis Wyatt, the successor of Yeardly, in 1621. That gentleman immediately sent messengers to Opechancanough and Opitchipan, who both expressed great satisfaction at the accession of the new President, and cheerfully renewed their former leagues with the colony. The former also declared himself pleased with the idea of the English inhabiting the country. He proposed, by way of amalgamating the two nations, that some of the white families should settle among his people, while some of his should settle at Jamestown. A former promise was confirmed, of sending a guide with the English to certain mines represented to be situated above the falls. Nay, so far was the deception carried, that "Mr. Thorpe [the chief messenger] thought he perceived more motions of religion in Opechancanough than could easily be imagined, in so great ignorance and blindness. He acknowledged his own religion not to be the right way; and desired to be instructed in the Christian faith. He confessed that God loved the English better than them, and he thought the cause of God's anger was their custom of conjuring their children, and making them black boys." [FN]
[FN] Allusion seems to be made here to a custom which is sufficiently singular to deserve some description. Smith calls it a yearly sacrifice of children. A ceremony of the kind which was performed near Jamestown may best be described in his own words. "Fifteene of the properest young boyes betweene ten and fifteene yeeres of age, they paynted white. Hauing brought them forth, the people spent the forenoone in dauncing and singing about them with rattles. In the afternoone they put those children to the roote of a tree. By them all the men stood in a guard, each hauing a Bastinado in his hand, made of reeds bound together. This made a lane betweene them all along, through which there were appointed fiue young men to fetch these children. So euery one of the fiue went through the guard to fetch a childe, each after other by turnes, the guard firecely beating them with their Bastinadoes, and they patiently enduring and receiuing all, defending the children with their naked bodies from the vnmerciful blowes, that pay them soundly, tho' the children escape. All this while, the women weepe and cry out very passionately, prouiding mats, skinnes, mosse and dry wood, as things fitting their childrens' funerals. After the children were thus passed the guard, the guard tore down the trees, branches and boughs, with such violence that they rent the body, and made wreaths for their heads, or bedecked their hayre with the leaues. What els was done with the children was not seene, but they were all cast on a heape in a valley as dead, where they made a great feast for all the company. The Werowance being demanded the meaning of this sacrifice, answered that the children were not all dead, but that the Okee or Divill did sucke the bloode from their left breast, who chanced to be his by lot, till they were dead; but the rest were kept in the wildernesse by the young men till nine months were expired, during which time they must not converse with any, and of these were made their Priests and Coniurors." Master Pory says, in his Observations that the Accomacks were a civil and tractable people: "nor doe they vse that deuillish custome in making Black Boyes."
It must have been about this time that Opechancanough took the trouble to send some of his men to a sachem on the eastern shore, for a quantity of poison, peculiar to that region, and which he wished to use in his operations against the English. [FN] This may have been the true object of the embassy; and it may also have been but a cover for sounding the disposition of the eastern tribes towards the colony. Accordingly, it is recorded in the "Observations of Master Iohn Pory, secretarie of Virginia, in his travels," that Namenacus, the Sachem of Pawtuxent, made an application to the colony, in 1621, for the privilege of trading with them. This request was so far attended to, that the English promised to visit him within six weeks. Now it seems that their commerce with the Indians at this period was mostly carried on by the aid of one Thomas Salvage, an interpreter, and the same man whom Smith had left with Powhatan fourteen years before. The visit took place according to promise, and it was then ascertained that Opechancanough had employed one of his Indians to kill Salvage. The pretence was, "because he brought the trade from him to the easterne shore." The truth probably was, that the chieftain was jealous of the English influence among the tribes of that region.
[FN] Stith.
But the storm which had been gathering ever since the death of the emperor, was at length ready to burst upon the devoted colony. Opechancanough had completed every preparation which the nature of things permitted on his part; and nothing remained, but to strike the great blow which he intended should utterly extinguish the English settlements forever. The twenty-second day of March, 1622—an era but too memorable in Virginian history—was selected for the time; and a certain hour agreed upon, to ensure a simultaneous assault in every direction. The various tribes engaged in the conspiracy were drawn together, and stationed in the vicinity of the several places of massacre, with a celerity and precision unparalleled in the annals of the continent. Although some of the detachments had to march from great distances, and through a continued forest, guided only by the stars and moon, no single instance of disorder or mistake is known to have happened. One by one, they followed each other in profound silence, treading as nearly as possible in each other's steps, and adjusting the long grass and branches which they displaced. [FN] They halted at short distances from the settlements, and waited in death-like stillness before the signal of attack.
[FN] Burk.
That was to be given by their fellow-savages, who had chosen the same morning for visiting the different plantations, in considerable numbers, for the purpose of ascertaining their strength and precise situation, and at the same time preventing any suspicion of the general design. This, it should be observed, had recently become too habitual a practice with the Indians, to excite suspicion of itself. The peace was supposed to be inviolable. The savages were well known to be in no condition for a war; and had shown no disposition for one. The English, therefore, while they supplied them generally with whatever they asked for, upon fair terms, neglected to prepare themselves for defence. They were so secure, that a sword or a firelock was rarely to be met with in a private dwelling. Most of their plantations were seated in a scattered and straggling manner, as a water-privilege or a choice vein of rich land invited them; and indeed it was generally thought, the further from neighbors, the better. The Indians were daily received into their houses, fed at their tables, and lodged in their bedchambers; and boats were even lent them previous to the twenty-second, as they passed backwards and forwards for the very purpose of completing the plan, of extirpation.
The hour being come, the savages, knowing exactly in what spot every Englishman was to be found, rose upon them at once. The work of death was commenced, and they spared neither sex nor age, man, woman nor child. Some entered the houses under color of trade. Others drew the owners abroad upon various pretences; while the rest fell suddenly on such as were occupied in their several labors. So quick was the execution, that few perceived the weapon or blow which despatched them. And thus, in one hour and almost at the same instant, fell three hundred and forty-seven men, women and children; most of them by their own arms, and all, (as Stith observes,) by the hands of a naked and timid people, who durst not stand the presenting of a staff in the manner of a firelock, in the hands of a woman.
Those who had sufficient warning to make resistance, saved their lives. Nathaniel Causie an old soldier of Captain Smith's, though cruelly wounded, cleaved down one of his assailants with an axe; upon which the whole party who had surrounded him fled, and he escaped. At another place, two men held possession of a house against sixty Indians. At Warrasqueake, a Mr. Baldwin, whose wife was so badly wounded that she lay for dead, by repeatedly discharging his musket drove off the enemy, and saved both her and himself. Ralph Hamer, the historian, defended himself in his house, successfully, with spades, axes and brickbats. One small family, living near Martin's Hundred, where as many as seventy-three of the English were slain, not only escaped the massacre, but never heard any thing of it until two or three days afterwards. Jamestown and some of the neighboring places were saved by the disclosure of a Christian Indian named Chanco, who was confidentially informed of the design by his brother, on the morning of the 22d.
Such was the evidence which Opechancanough gave of his deep-rooted hatred of the English. And yet, such was his profound dissimulation, that so late as the middle of March, he treated a messenger sent to him from the President with the utmost civility, assuring him he held the peace so firm, that the sky would fall sooner than it should be violated on his part. Mr. Thorpe, an excellent man, who had taken a peculiar interest in christianizing the Indians, supposed that he had gained the especial favor of Opechancanough by building him a very neat house after the English fashion; in which he took such pleasure, as to lock and unlock his door a hundred times a day. [FN] He seemed also to be pleased with the discourse and company of Mr. Thorpe, and expressed a desire to requite some of his kindness. Nevertheless, the body of this unfortunate man was found among the slain. Only two days before the massacre, the Indians guided a party of the English through the woods, and sent home one who had lived among them to learn their language. On the very morning of the fatal day, as also the evening before, they came, as at other times, unarmed into the houses of the English, with deer, turkeys, fish, fruits and other things to sell; and in some places sat down to breakfast with the same persons whom they rose up to tomahawk.
[FN] Stith.
The particular occasion—as the historians consider it—of the conspiracy, is too characteristic to be omitted. There was a noted Indian, named Nemattanow, who was wont, out of vanity or some unaccountable humor, to dress himself up with feathers in a most barbarously fantastic manner. This habit obtained for him among the English the name of Jack-of-the-feather. He was renowned among his countrymen both for courage and cunning; and was esteemed the greatest war-captain of those times. But, what was most remarkable, although he had been in many skirmishes and engagements with the English, he had always escaped without a wound. From this accident, seconded by his own ambition and craft, he obtained at length the reputation of being invulnerable and immortal.
Early in 1622, Nemattanow came to the house of one Morgan, who kept and sold a variety of well-selected commodities for the use of the Indians. Smitten with a strong desire to obtain some of them, Nemattanow persuaded Morgan to accompany him to Pamunkey, on the assurance of an advantageous traffic at that place. On the way, he is supposed to have murdered the trader. Within two or three days, he returned again to the house of his victim where were only two stout young men, servants of Morgan, at home. They, observing that he wore their master's cap on his head, inquired after him; and Jack told them frankly he was dead.
Confirmed in their previous suspicions by this declaration, they seized him, and endeavored to carry him before Mr. Thorpe, who lived at a neighboring settlement. But their prisoner troubled them so much by his resistance, and withal provoked them so intolerably by his bravadoes, that they finally shot him down, and put him into a boat, in order to convey him the remaining seven or eight miles of the way. But the Indian soon grew faint; and finding himself surprised by the pangs of death, he requested his captors to stop. In his last moments he most earnestly besought of them two great favors; first, never to make it known that he was killed by a bullet; and secondly, to bury him among the English, that the certain knowledge and monument of his mortality might still be concealed from the sight of his countrymen. So strong was the ruling passion in death.
Opechancanough was so far from being a particular friend of Nemattanow that he had given the President to understand, by a messenger, sometime before the transaction just related, that he should consider it a favor in him, if he would take measures to have Jack despatched. The popularity of the war-captain was the only reason why he forbore to take such measures himself. Nevertheless, with a consummate wiliness he availed himself of this same popularity, on the death of his rival—as Jack seems to have been—the better to inflame and exasperate the Indians against the whites. He affected to be excessively grieved at his death, and for sometime was unusually loud in his declarations of resentment and his threats of revenge. A messenger came from the President, to ascertain what was intended by these demonstrations of hostility, and again all was quiet as before; nothing could induce the Sachem to violate the vast regard which he had always entertained for the English. About the same time he gave them liberty, by negotiation, to seat themselves any where on the shores of the rivers, within his dominions, where the natives had no villages. The treaty he had already made for the discovery of mines, as well as for mutual friendship and defence, was at his request engraven on a brass plate, and fastened to one of the largest oaks growing upon his territories, that it might be had always in remembrance. [FN]
[FN] Belknap's Am. Biog. p. 64, Vol. II.
For several years after the massacre, a war was waged between the colonists and the savages, so inveterate and ferocious as to transmit a mutual abhorrence and prejudice to the posterity of both. The former obtained at this period the name of the Long-Knives, by which they were distinguished to a very late day in the hieroglyphic language of the natives. Every precaution and preparation was taken and made upon both sides, in view of a desperate conflict. Orders were issued by the government, from time to time, directing a general vigilance and caution against the enemy who now engrossed all thought; and especially prohibiting the waste of arms and ammunition. The remnants of the settlements were drawn together into a narrower compass. Of eighty plantations all were abandoned but six, which lay contiguous at the lower part of James river; and three or four others, of which the owners or overseers, refusing to obey public orders, intrenched themselves, and mounted cannon for their own separate defence. [FN]
[FN] Purchas V. 1792.
A considerable space of territory between the Virginians and the savage tribes, was wasted with fire, for the sole purpose of laying bare the stealthy approaches of the enemy, who, under cover of the long grass and underwood, and the gigantic shield of the oak and cypress, had heretofore been able to advance unperceived, and rise up in attack almost from under the very feet of the English. But even a boundary of fire could not always restrain the fury, nor elude the skill, of the Indians. Wisely content with short and sudden incursions, for plunder and revenge rather than conquest, they frequently succeeded in carrying off the corn and cattle of the colonists, and sometimes their persons into captivity. They were themselves, on the other hand, hunted like beasts of prey. No prisoners were made; no quarter was given.
From the time of the massacre, Opechancanough seems no longer to have taken the least trouble to conceal his hostility. He returned a haughty answer to the first demand, made upon him for the redemption of the English captives; and trampled under foot the picture of the English monarch, which was sent to him as a compliment. Late in 1622, when Captain Croshaw was trading on the Potomac, with the only tribe which was now willing to carry on commerce, he had scarcely landed from his vessel, when a messenger arrived from Opechancanough to Japazaws, (king of the Patowomekes,) bearing two baskets of beads as a royal present, and soliciting the king to murder his new visitants on the spot. He was assured, that whether he did his part or not, before the end of two moons, there should not be an Englishman left in the whole country. Japazaws first disclosed the message to his guest; and then, after thinking and talking of it two days, made answer that the English were his friends, and Opitchipan (the Powhatan emperor) his brother; and therefore there should be no more blood shed between them by his means. The beads were returned by the messenger.
After this, the colonists had their season of success; and more Indians are said to have been slain during the autumn and winter of 1622-3, than had ever before fallen by the hands of the English, since the settlement of Jamestown. [FN] But the course adopted by the civilized party sufficiently indicates the desperate state of their affairs. They availed themselves of a stratagem worse than barbarous in its principle, however circumstances might be supposed in this case to justify it. A peace was offered to the enemy and accepted; but just as the corn which the latter were thus induced to plant, was beginning to grow ripe, the English fell upon them in all directions at a given hour of an appointed day, killed many, and destroyed a vast quantity of provisions. Several of the greatest war-captains were among the slain; and for sometime Opechancanough himself was reported to be one. This rumor alone, so long as believed, was equal to a victory; "for against him," says the historian, "was this stratagem chiefly laid."
[FN] Stith.
Such language furnishes evidence enough of the apprehension which his movements and reputation had excited. But he gave more substantial reasons for the respect which he still wrested from his enemy, by his prowess. A battle took place at his own village of Pamunkey, in 1625, in which the main body of the savages numbered eight hundred bow-men, independently of detachments from remote tribes; and though the English, led on by Governor Wyatt in person, succeeded in driving the enemy from the field, they were unable to pursue them even as far as Matapony. That town was their principal depot and rallying point, and the acknowledged inability to reach it, though but four miles distant, proves that the battle was by no means decisive. It appears from this affair, too, that all the efforts of the English, during an inveterate war of three years, had not driven the tribes even from the neighborhood of their own settlements. What was more discouraging, Opechancanough was not to be deceived a second time by the arts of diplomacy. In 1628, the governor's proclamation, which announced the appointment of commissioners to negotiate with the enemy, declared expressly an intention to repeat the stratagem of 1622; [FN] but the plan failed of success, and the Pamunkies and Chickahominies—most immediately under the influence of Opechancanough—were more troublesome at this period than ever before.
[FN] Ancient Records of Virginia.
Four years afterwards, the same tribes made an irruption so furious and alarming, that every twentieth man was despatched, under the command of the governor, to parley with them—a term in the records which shows forcibly, as Burk observes, the respect this brave people had inspired. But Opechancanough was still implacable; and when, in the course of 1632, a peace was at last formally concluded, so little dependence was placed on that circumstance, that even while the commissioners on both sides were adjusting the preliminaries, a proclamation was issued, forbidding the colonists either to parley or trade with the Indians.
This truce or treaty was understood to be on both sides a temporary expedient; but the chieftain was the first to take advantage of it. During nine years he remained quietly making his preparations for the conflict which his sagacity told him must some day or other be renewed. The hour at length arrived. The colony was involved in dissensions. Insurrections had taken place. The governor was unpopular, and the people were unprepared and heedless. Opechancanough lost not a moment in concerting measures for effecting at a single blow the bloody, but in his bosom noble design, which had engrossed the solicitude and labor of so large a part of his life.
He was now advanced in years, but his orders were conveyed with electric rapidity to the remotest tribes of the great confederacy associated under his influence. With the five nearest his own location, and most completely under his control, he resolved to make the principal onset in person. The more distant stations were assigned to the leading chiefs of the several nations; and thus the system of a war that raged from the mouth of the Chesapeake to the heads of all the great rivers, which flow into it, was so simple as to render confusion impossible. The whole force was let loose upon the entire line of the English settlements at nearly the same instant of time. Five hundred persons perished in the massacre. [FN] Many others were carried into captivity. The habitations, corn, household utensils, instruments of farming, every thing essential to comfort, and almost every thing necessary to life, was consumed by fire. But for circumstances in the situation of the settlements, over which Opechancanough had no control, and which he could not guard against, the fate of Virginia had been decided by this single blow.
[FN] Beverly's History, p. 49.
As it was, every other labor and thought were suspended in the terrors of an Indian war. The loom was abandoned. The plough was left in its furrow. All who were able to bear arms were embodied as a militia for the defence of the colony; and a chosen body, comprising every twentieth man, marched into the enemy's country under Governor Berkeley's personal command. The operations of the war, which raged thenceforth without any intermission until the death of Opechancanough—and that alone was expected to end it—are detailed by no historian. The early Virginian records which remain in manuscript are altogether silent respecting this period; and the meagre relation of Beverly is the only chronicle which has survived the ravages of time. This circumstance of itself sufficiently indicates the confusion and dismay of the era.
Opechancanough, whose last scene now rapidly approaches, had become so decrepit by age, as to be unable to walk, though his spirit, rising above the ruins of his body, directed, from the litter upon which his Indians carried him, the onset and the retreat of his warriors. The wreck of his constitution was at length completed by the extreme fatigues encountered in this difficult and laborious service. His flesh became macerated; his sinews lost their elasticity; and his eyelids were so heavy that he could not see, unless they were lifted up by his faithful attendants. In this forlorn condition he was closely pursued by Berkeley with a squadron of horse, and at length surprised and taken. He entered Jamestown, for the first time in his life, as the most conspicuous figure in the conqueror's triumph.
To the honor of the English, they treated their distinguished captive with the tenderness which his infirmities demanded, and the respect which his appearance and talents inspired. They saw the object of their terror bending under the load of years, and shattered by the hardships of war; and they generously resolved to bury the remembrance of their injuries in his present melancholy reverse of fortune. His own deportment was suitable to his former glory, and to the principles of an Indian hero. He disdained to utter complaint or to manifest uneasiness. He believed that tortures were preparing for him; but instead of any consequent reduction in his haughtiness, his language and demeanor bespoke the most absolute defiance and contempt.
But generally he shrouded himself in reserve; and as if desirous of showing his enemies that there was nothing in their presence even to rouse his curiosity, and much less to excite his apprehensions, he but rarely permitted his eyelids to be lifted up. He continued in this state several days, attended by his affectionate Indian servants, who had begged permission to wait upon him. But his long life of near an hundred years [FN] was drawing to its close. He was basely shot through the back by one of the soldiers appointed to guard him, from no other provocation than the recollection of his ancient hostility.
[FN] So write some historians, but as he is understood to have been younger than Powhatan, the estimate is possibly too large by ten or twenty ears. It is said that Berkeley had proposed taking him to England, as a living argument to counteract the representations made in that country as to the unhealthiness of the Virginian climate.
To the last moment his courage remained unbroken. The nearer death approached, the more care he seemed to use in concealing his dejection, and preserving the dignity and serenity of his aspect. Only a few minutes before he expired, he heard an unusual bustle in the room where he was confined. Having ordered his attendants to raise his eyelids, he discovered a number of persons crowding round him, for the purpose of gratifying an unseasonable curiosity. The dying chief felt the indignity, but disdaining to notice the intruders he raised himself as well as he could, and with a voice and air of authority, demanded that the governor should be immediately brought in. When the latter made his appearance, the chieftain scornfully told him that "had it been his fortune to have taken Sir William Berkeley prisoner, he should not have exposed him as a show to his people." [FN]
[FN] Beverley.
Such was the death of Opechancanough. His character is too well explained by his life to require any additional comment. His own countrymen were more extensively and more completely under his influence than they had been under that of Powhatan himself. This is the more remarkable from the fact that Opitchipan, whose age and family at least entitled to some deference, retained the nominal authority of emperor so long as he lived. Beverley says, that Opechancanough was not esteemed by the Indians to be in any way related to Powhatan; and that they represented him as the prince of a foreign nation residing at a great distance somewhere in the Southwest. He might be an emigrant or an exile from the empire of Mexico, or from some of the tribes between that region and Virginia. The same historian describes him as a man of large stature, noble presence and extraordinary parts. Stith calls him a politic and haughty prince. Burk entitles him the Hannibal of Virginia.
He was perhaps the most inveterate and troublesome enemy which any of the American colonies have ever met with among his race. The general causes which made him so, independently of his inherent talents and principles, are to be looked for in the situation of the tribes under his command, and especially in the relations existing between them and the colonists. He saw, that either the white or the red man must sooner or later establish an exclusive superiority; and he very reasonably decided upon doing all in his own power to determine the issue in favor of his country and himself. But more particular provocations were not wanting. Even after the peace of 1636, great as the anxiety was for its preservation, "the subtle Indians," says Beverley, "resented the encroachments on them by Hervey's grants." A late historian expresses himself in warmer terms. It was not enough, he writes, that they had abandoned to their invaders the delightful regions on the sea-shore, where their fathers had been placed by the bounty of heaven—where their days had rolled on in an enchanting round of innocence and gayety—where they had possessed abundance without labor, and independence without government. The little that remained to them was attempted to be wrested from them by the insatiable avarice and rapacity of their enemies.[FN]
[FN] Burk, Vol. II.