Smith was equal to the difficulties of his position; his was a mind fruitful in resources, and his high principle rendered him not only strict in the fulfilment of his own arduous duties, but enabled him to enforce the fulfilment of duty in others. Under the former governors the natives had become unfriendly, he, on the contrary, conciliated them; “he was more anxious,” says the record of the colony, “to gather provisions than to find gold;” and before the winter commenced, the Indians brought in voluntary supplies. The colonists also, influenced by his spirit, now laboured earnestly to complete their fortifications and erect huts for the winter.
As soon as the new spirit of activity and hope had given a brighter aspect to the affairs of the colony, Smith set out to accomplish one of the strictly-enjoined purposes of the colonists; that, namely, of seeking for a communication with the South Sea, by ascending some river which flowed from the north-west. A little above Jamestown, a river called Chickahominy, and which flowed into the James river, seemed to answer this purpose, it being supposed that the continent of America was narrow, and that some river unquestionably would be found to serve as a connexion between the two seas. Smith, who was not as ignorant as his employers, and who entertained no expectation of reaching the Pacific Ocean by any such means, nevertheless was well pleased, having left the colony in a comparative state of comfort and prosperity, with abundant provisions for the winter, to diversify his life by new adventures. Advancing therefore up the river Chickahominy, accompanied by two Englishmen and two Indian guides, as far as was practicable by boat, he struck into the interior with a single Indian guide, leaving the boat under the guardianship of the two Englishmen. Scarcely, however, had he set forth when the English, disregarding some of his injunctions, were attacked and killed by the Indians, and he himself suddenly assailed by a large party. Binding his Indian guide to his arm as a buckler, he fought manfully, killing three of his assailants; unfortunately, however, in stepping backwards, he found himself on the edge of a morass; his feet sank, and he was taken prisoner. Accustomed to the views and sentiments of savage hordes in his captivity in southern Russia, he now availed himself of that knowledge, and acted in accordance with it. He neither begged for his life from the Indians, nor appeared cast down. They carried him away captive, but his self-possession never forsook him; marching through the forest he took out his pocket-compass and explained to them its use, and then from the globe-like figure of that instrument, as he himself relates, instructed them regarding the roundness of the earth, and how “the sun did chase the night about the earth continually.” His captivity among this tribe of Indians was a more wonderful and interesting event than any other preserved in their traditions. He wrote to the colony at Jamestown, and his letter increased the wonder of the savages at the miraculous power which existed within him; he seemed to them to convey a magical intelligence to the paper. His fame spread through all the kindred tribes, and he was conveyed as an object of curiosity from the Indian settlements on the Chickahominy, to those on the Rappahannock and the Potomac, and so on to the residence of Opechancanough at Pamunky. Here, for three days, the Indian priests or sorcerers practised incantations and mystical ceremonies to ascertain the designs and character of their extraordinary prisoner. He remained perfectly calm, as if regardless of his fate or assured of his safety. The Indians were amazed and confounded; they had never, unless among their bravest men, seen a courage and equanimity equal to this, they treated him with hospitality and reverence, as if to propitiate the superior powers that dwelt within him.
POCAHONTAS INTERCEDING FOR JOHN SMITH.
The decision of his fate was referred to Powhatan, then residing at some little distance, and thither he was removed. The grim warriors of the forest, arrayed in all the pomp of savage attire, received him in solemn council. They deliberated and consulted among themselves, and feeling him to be a superior, as well as overcome by their fears, doomed him to death. His execution, however, was not immediate, and in the meantime he employed himself in making hatchets and stringing beads, which he gave to Pocahontas, the daughter of Powhatan, a girl of ten or twelve years of age, who for beauty of countenance and spirit, combined with gentleness, so far excelled all the maidens of her people that she was called “the nonpareil of the country.” At length the day of his doom was fixed; he was to die by the blows of the hatchet; the hour was come; he knelt on the place of execution, and already the uplifted hatchet was raised, but at the same moment Pocahontas, obeying an impulse of mercy, sprang to his side, threw her arms round his neck, and laying her head upon his, interposed herself between him and death. Her devotion and entreaties spared his life. The Indians, whom his superiority had so long awed, now resolved to make of him a friend and adopt him into their nation. They offered him every temptation which lay in their power to induce him to join them in attacking the white men who had settled at Jamestown. His firmness in resisting their offers inspired them with still higher respect, and they dismissed him with promises of friendship. His captivity was of great advantage to the colony; he not only had become acquainted with the country considerably inland, but with the Indian language and character, and was the means of establishing a friendly intercourse between the English colony and the tribes of Powhatan.
Returned to the colony, he found its numbers reduced to forty, and all disheartened and disunited, and the ablest among them so wearied by the hardships of colonial life that they were about to desert in the pinnace. Smith, at the hazard of his life, prevented this; by reason and firmness he once more established order, and the wants of the colony were relieved by the generous Pocahontas, who not satisfied with having saved the great chief from death, came now every few days with her companions, to bring baskets of corn for him and his people.
Newport was re-despatched, almost immediately on his return to the colony, with supplies and one hundred and thirty fresh emigrants in two vessels. The hope of the old colonists, which had revived at the sight of their new associates, soon died away again; for this reinforcement was only a repetition of the old disastrous elements. The new-comers were vagabond gentlemen, refiners of gold, goldsmiths, and jewellers. Smith, for the first time, was almost disheartened himself. They would neither build nor cultivate, but fancying that they should discover grains of gold in the micacious sands of a stream near Jamestown, they set to work, and, as Smith himself records, “there was now no talk, no hope, no work, but dig gold, wash gold, refine gold, load gold.” The whole colony was mad about gold; and Newport having remained fourteen weeks in harbour, idling away his time and consuming with his crew the provisions of the colony, which were already considerably diminished by the accidental burning of the storehouse, sailed away, having laden his ship with the glittering earth, and, contrary to the assertions of Smith, believing that he was conveying home vast treasures. Wingfield and some of his partisans sailed with him. The other ship was, by the strenuous advice of Smith, laden with cedar, skins and furs, and furnished the first valuable remittance from Virginia to the mother-country.
Disgusted at the folly of the colonists, upon whom his better reason had no influence, Smith left them for awhile to their own devices, and with a few companions made two voyages during the summer months in an open boat to explore the Bay of Chesapeake and its affluents: and in this manner he accomplished about three thousand miles. He surveyed the Bay of Chesapeake to the Susquehanna. He was the first to make known to the English the fame of the Mohawks, who dwelt upon the great water, and had many boats and many men, and who, according to the feebler Algonquin tribes, made war upon the whole world. He discovered and explored the Patapsco, and probably entered the harbour of Baltimore. He entered the mighty Potomac, which at its outlet is seven miles broad, which he ascended beyond the present Mount Vernon and Washington, as far as its falls above Georgetown. Nor did he content himself with merely exploring rivers; he penetrated into the country, and established friendly relationships with various tribes of powerful Indians, many of them in perpetual warfare one with another. On his second expedition he brought back with him to Jamestown a cargo of corn. He prepared an account of his voyage, with descriptions of the country and the natives, accompanied by a map, which remains extant to this time, and which is singularly correct.
Shortly after his return, Smith was made president of the colony. Subordination and industry now began to prevail. The first corn of their own planting was reaped. Again Newport arrived with fresh emigrants, two of whom were women. There came also a few Poles and Germans to teach the art of making pitch, tar, potash and glass. The company in London wrote by this vessel in a very angry strain. They were greatly dissatisfied that their heavy outlays produced no return, for, of course, the shining earth which Newport carried back with him on his voyage was found to be utterly worthless. They now required a lump of gold; the positive discovery of a direct passage to the South Sea, or some of the lost company planted on Roanoke! “If,” said they, “the colonists do not send back valuable commodities to defray the expenses of the voyage, amounting to £2,000, they shall henceforth be left to manage for themselves, as banished men.”
Smith very justly wrote back, “I entreat you send me but thirty carpenters, husbandmen, gardeners, fishermen, blacksmiths, masons, and diggers up of the roots of trees, well provided, rather than a thousand of such as we now have.”