To this scene of distress and appalling mortality the president Wingfield lived in sumptuous indifference. His gluttony appropriated to itself the best provisions the colony could afford—"oatmeal, sacke, oyle, aqua vitae, beefe, egges, or whatnot"—and, in this intemperate feasting, it seemed as though his valueless life were only spared that he might endure the disgrace he so richly merited. Seeing the forlorn condition of the settlement he attempted to seize the pinnace, which had been left for their use by Newport, and make his escape to England. These outrages so wrought upon the council that they instantly deposed him, expelled his accomplice, Kendall, and elected Ratcliffe to the presidency. Thus their body, consisting originally of seven, was reduced to three. Newport had sailed, Gosnold was dead, Wingfield and Kendall were in disgraced seclusion. Martin, Ratcliffe, and Smith alone remained. They seem to have felt no desire to exercise their right of filling their vacant ranks. The first had a nominal superiority, but the genius of the last made him the very soul of the settlement.
It is related by the best authority that in this dark crisis, when their counsels were distracted, their hopes nearly extinguished, their bodies enfeebled from famine and disease, the savages around them voluntarily brought in such quantities of venison, corn, and wholesome fruits that health and cheerfulness were at once restored. Their condition now brought them in almost daily contact with the aborigines.
Ratcliffe and Martin were alike incompetent, and Smith assumed the guidance of affairs. Finding their provisions again nearly exhausted, he went with a party down the river to Kecoughtan to obtain supplies from the natives. Savage irony was all they received; a handful of corn and a piece of bread were offered in exchange for swords and muskets. The Indians came against them in numbers, frightfully dressed, and bearing their okee in the form of a monstrous idol, stuffed with moss, and hung with chains and copper. But they were received with a volley of pistol-shot. The omnipotent okee fell to the earth, and with him several of his worshippers. The rest fled to the woods, and, finding resistance vain, they brought quantities of corn, venison, turkeys, and wild-fowl, and received in exchange beads, copper, hatchets, and their discomfited deity.
During the absence of the ruling mind, Wingfield and Kendall seduced a few sailors and made another attempt to carry off the bark to England. At the critical moment Smith returned, and, instantly directing the cannon of the fort against them, commanded submission. A skirmish ensued, and the seditious Kendall lost his life. A similar effort to the settlement was soon made by Captain Gabriel Archer and the imbecile President Ratcliffe, and again the decision of Smith arrested them and forced them to their duty. He was ever prompt, and hesitated not at any measures required to govern his turbulent compeers.
And now the winter came on, and with it immense numbers of swans, geese, and ducks, which covered the rivers and afforded delightful food to the settlers. They daily feasted upon them, and enjoyed in abundance the peas, pumpkins, persimmons, and other vegetable treasures which the season matured. But Smith could not be contented with a life of inactivity, however plentifully supplied. The council had ungratefully charged him with negligence, in not searching for the head of the Chickahominy, and his own adventurous spirit urged him to renewed enterprise.
He prepared his boat for a voyage, and, in a season of uncommon rigor, he set forth upon an expedition destined to add greatly to the fame of his already wonderful career.
The Chickahominy falls into the James not many miles above the site of Jamestown. It flows through a very fertile region, and upon its banks were native settlements well supplied with the stores of savage labor.
Up this stream Smith urged his boat with great perseverence, cutting through trunks of trees and matted underwood which opposed his progress. At length, finding the obstacles to increase, he left the boat in a broad bay, where Indian arrows could not reach her, and, strictly forbidding the crew to leave her, he pressed on, with two Englishmen and two Indians, eager to penetrate with their canoe the swamps beyond them. Hardly had he disappeared before the disobedient seamen left the boat and sought amusement upon the shore. Opecancanough, an Indian chief of great subtlety and courage, was near with a lurking band of savages, and, instantly seizing his advantage, he made prisoner George Cassen, one of this party, and obtained from him full information as to the movements of Captain Smith. The cowardice of Cassen did not save him. The savages put him to death with cruel tortures, and then pursued their more dreaded foe.
Smith had now penetrated twenty miles into the marshes; and, leaving the two Englishmen in the canoe, he went forward with an Indian guide. The savages found the two men sunk in stupid slumber by the side of the canoe, and shot them to death with arrows ere they could escape. But they had now to encounter a superior being. Two hundred savages, approaching with fatal intent, caused no dismay in the heart of Smith. Binding the Indian guide firmly to his arm, he used him as a shield to preserve him from the arrows of the enemy, and with his musket he brought two of them dead to the ground. He would perhaps have reached the canoe—the savages fell back appalled by his courage—but while in full retreat he sunk to the middle in a swamp from which his utmost efforts could not extricate him. Excessive cold froze his limbs and deprived him of strength, yet the Indians dared not approach him until he threw away his arms and made signals of submission. Then they drew him out, and, chafing his benumbed body, speedily restored him to activity. His self-possession was never lost for a moment. Discovering that Opecancanough was the chief, he presented to him a small magnetic dial, and made the simple savages wonder at the play of the needle beneath the glass surface.
On this excursion he was made prisoner, and he himself assures us was saved by the Indian maiden Pocahontas. After a captivity of seven weeks he returned to Jamestown, with increased knowledge of savage life and manners. He treated his Indian guides with great kindness and gave them two heavy guns and a millstone for the monarch. But the present was too heavy for his strength, and when one of the cannons was discharged among the boughs of a tree, and crashing of wood and ice was heard, the timid natives declined any further interference with agents so formidable.