To the Most High and Virtuous Princess, Queen Anne of Great Britain.

Most Admired Queen,—The love I bear my God, my king and country, hath so oft emboldened me in the worst of extreme dangers, that now honesty doth constrain me [to] presume thus far beyond myself to present your Majesty this short discourse. If ingratitude be a deadly poison to all honest virtue, I must be guilty of that crime, if I should omit any means to be thankful. So it is,

That some ten years ago, being in Virginia, and taken prisoner by the power of Powhatan, their chief king, I received from this great savage exceeding great courtesy, especially from his son Nantaquond, the most manliest, comeliest, boldest spirit I ever saw in a savage, and his sister Pocahontas, the king’s most dear and well-beloved daughter,—being but a child of twelve or thirteen years of age, whose compassionate, pitiful heart of my desperate estate gave me much cause to respect her, I being the first Christian this proud king and his grim attendants ever saw. And, thus enthralled in their barbarous power, I cannot say I felt the least occasion of want that was in the power of those my mortal foes to prevent, notwithstanding all their threats. After some six weeks’ fatting amongst those savage courtiers, at the minute of my execution, she hazarded the beating out of her own brains to save mine; and not only that, but so prevailed withher father, that I was safely conducted to Jamestown, where I found about eight and thirty miserable, poor, and sick creatures, to keep possession of all those large territories of Virginia. Such was the weakness of this poor commonwealth, as, had the savages not fed us, we directly had starved.

POCAHANTAS.

POCAHANTAS.

And this relief, most gracious Queen, was commonly brought us by this lady, Pocahontas. Notwithstanding all these passages, when inconstant fortune turned our peace to war, this tender virgin would still not spare to dare to visit us, and by her our jars have been oft appeased, and our wants still supplied. Were it the policy of her father thus to employ her, or the ordinance of God thus to make her his instrument, or her extraordinary affection to our nation, I know not. But of this I am sure; when her father, with the utmost of his policy and power, sought to surprise me, having but eighteen with me, the dark night could not affright her from coming through the irksome woods; and with watered eyes gave me intelligence, with her best advice to escape his fury, which had he known, he had surely slain her. Jamestown, with her wild train, she as freely frequented as her father’s habitation; and, during the time of two or three years, she, next under God, was still the instrument to preservethis colony from death, famine, and utter confusion, which, if in those times, had once been dissolved, Virginia might have lain as it was at our first arrival to this day. Since then, this business having been turned and varied by many accidents from that I left it at, it is most certain, after a long and troublesome war after my departure, betwixt her father and our colony, all which time she was not heard of, about two years after, she herself was taken prisoner, being so detained near two years longer. The colony by that means was relieved, peace concluded, and at last, rejecting her barbarous condition, [she] was married to an English gentleman, with whom at this present she is in England; the first Christian ever of that nation, the first Virginian ever spoke English, or had a child in marriage by an Englishman,—a matter surely, if my meaning be truly considered and well understood, worthy a princess’ understanding.

Thus, most gracious lady, I have related to your Majesty, what, at your best leisure, our approved histories will account you at large, and done in the time of your Majesty’s life; and, however this might be presented you from a more worthy pen, it cannot from a more honest heart. As yet I never begged any thing of the state, or any; and if my want of ability, and her exceeding desert, your birth, means, and authority, her birth, virtue, want, and simplicity, doth make me thus bold, humbly to beseech your Majesty to take this knowledge of her, though it be from one so unworthy to be the reporter as myself.… And so I humbly kiss your gracious hands.

Being about this time preparing to set sail for NewEngland, I could not stay to do her that service I desired, and she well deserved; but, hearing she was at Branford with divers of my friends, I went to see her. After a modest salutation, without any word, she turned about, obscured her face, as not seeming well contented; and in that humor her husband, with divers others, we all left her two or three hours, repenting myself to have written she could speak English. But not long after, she began to talk, and remembered me well what courtesies she had done, saying, “You did promise Powhatan what was yours should be his, and he the like to you. You called him father, being in his land a stranger, and by the same reason so must I do you.” Which, though I would have excused, I durst not allow of that title, because she was a king’s daughter. With a well-set countenance she said, “Were you not afraid to come into my father’s country, and caused fear in him and all his people,—but me,—and fear you here I should call you father? I tell you, then, I will, and you shall call me child; and so I will be for ever and ever your countryman. They did tell us always you were dead; and I knew no other till I came to Plymouth. Yet Powhatan did command Vetamatomakkin to seek you, and know the truth, because your countrymen will lie much.”