“Powhatan has spoken the last word. Let the English Werowance decide. Powhatan here awaits his death at the hands of Captain Smith, if it will redeem his people, but if his warriors must be doomed, then let Powhatan come and join them in their death so that all may go together to the happy hunting grounds.”
It is needless to say that Captain Smith was profoundly touched by the pitiful appeal of the old Chief. He did not doubt his present sincerity, nor had he cause to do so. Powhatan was completely humbled and his words were, as he said, “spoken from the bottom of his heart.” So long as Smith remained in the colony the old Werowance maintained his plight and neither he nor his people committed an unfriendly act against the English. The warriors who returned with their arms carried away an impression of the might and justice of Captain Smith that became a tradition in the tribe. For many years after his death the exploits of the White Werowance were related in wigwam and around camp fire. At this time his influence over the Indians of Virginia was supreme and founded upon respect no less than upon fear. His wishes were promptly complied with and the chiefs frequently consulted him about the affairs of the tribe. The most amicable relations were established between the whites and the natives. The former went about the country freely and without fear of harm. The latter came to the fort with their wares and provisions, glad to trade on a fixed scale which was once again established. The settlers learned how to plant corn in the Indian fashion—a method which is followed in Virginia to this day. The Indians taught them how to net fish and snare animals. Thus the colony progressed in the most useful direction and before Smith left them many of the settlers were as adept in the practices of woodcraft as any Indian.
What might have been the outcome had the affairs of the settlement been left in the hands of the man who showed time and again that he had such an understanding of the situation as none of the other leaders possessed, it is impossible to surmise. Certain it is, however, that in such a case, the later experience of the settlers as well as the Indians would have been a much more happy one. As it was, Smith had no sooner reduced conditions to the favorable state which has been described, than another influx of “gentlemen,” vested with authority that they were quite incapable of exercising wisely, tended to undo much of the good which he had accomplished at such great pains.
In the early part of 1609, the London Company secured a new charter, under which they proposed to exploit Virginia on a scale of grandeur which was in itself a proof of their utter ignorance of the real conditions and needs of the colony. The company, as reorganized, was composed of twenty-one peers and innumerable knights and gentlemen. Officers were appointed with high-sounding titles. Lord Delaware was made Captain-general of Virginia; Sir Thomas Gates, Lieutenant-captain-general; Sir George Somers, Admiral; Captain Newport, Vice-admiral; Sir Thomas Dale, High-marshal; Sir Ferdinando Wainman, General of the Horse. Just think of it! General of the Horse in Virginia! Keeper of the Hogs, or Master of the Poultry, or Superintendent of the Fish Seines, would have been more to the purpose. What a humble and insignificant individual plain “Captain John Smith” must have appeared to these grand gentlemen!
In May, nine vessels with five hundred emigrants were despatched from England, under the command of Gates, Somers and Newport. To each of these a governor’s commission was given with the understanding that he who should arrive first should take charge of the colony and supersede Smith. Evidently these gentlemen were not sportsmen, for, rather than take any chance, they decided to go in the same ship. This vessel, the Sea-Venture, was parted from the rest of the fleet in a hurricane and wrecked on the Bermudas. The lives of the prospective potentates were saved but they did not reach Virginia until months afterwards and when Smith had left. Meanwhile seven of the original ships arrived at their destination. Amongst the mixed company that they landed were Ratcliffe and Archer who figured large in the contingent of “gentlemen.” Most of these were “profligate youth, whose friends were only too well satisfied to give them ample room in remote countries, where they might escape the worse destinies that awaited them at home. Poor gentlemen, bankrupt tradesmen, rakes and libertines, such as were more apt to ruin than to raise a commonwealth.” The minds of these, naturally open to evil, had been poisoned by Ratcliffe and Archer against Smith, and they landed in a spirit of antagonism to him.
This “lewd Rout,” as one of the contemporary chroniclers terms them, were ripe for mischief and, led on by Ratcliffe and Archer, they plunged into all manner of license and disorder. It was their impression that in the absence of the commissioners the colony was without recognized authority and they might therefore do as they pleased without let or hindrance. They were never more mistaken, however. Smith took the view, rightly without question, that until a commission superseding him arrived, he remained at the head of affairs. He gave these gentry warning that unless they mended their ways he should deal sternly with them. This had the effect of moving them to plots and stratagems designed to put him out of the way. Forced to extreme measures, Smith seized the ringleaders, including those meanest of mortals, Ratcliffe and Archer, and confined them in prison. Order was speedily restored, and, the better to preserve it, Smith divided the colonists, who were in any event too numerous to live in Jamestown, into several parties which he sent into different quarters of the surrounding country to establish settlements. Despite the friendly attitude of the Indians these newcomers contrived to create trouble with them almost immediately, and more lives were thus needlessly sacrificed in a week than had been lost in Smith’s troublous dealings with the Indians in the course of a year.
At this juncture an accident—some think that it was the result of design—put a sudden end to Smith’s career in Virginia. One night as he slept his powder bag exploded, severely injuring him. For several weeks he lay in dreadful pain, unable to rise from his couch. When, at length, he was sufficiently recovered to be carried on board ship, he turned over the government to Captain Percy, and in the autumn of 1609 sailed from Virginia, which he was never to see again.
A sorrowing group of his faithful followers watched the vessel until its ensign dropped below the horizon. One of them has said: “Thus we lost him that in all his proceedings made justice his first guide and experience his second; ever hating baseness, sloth, pride and unworthiness more than dangers; that never allowed more for himself than his soldiers with him; that upon no danger would send them where he would not lead them himself; that would never see us want what he had or by any means could get us; that would rather want than borrow, or starve than not pay; that loved action more than words, and hated falsehood and covetousness worse than death; whose adventures were our lives, and whose loss our deaths.”
The literal truth of the last words was soon to be proven.