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. [14]
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.
Footnote
[1] 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.
[2] He was destined, however, to die at last by the hands of the savages, in 1623.
[3] Smith's History.
[4] Burk's Virginia, Vol. I.
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