The * dors came to treat for the delivery of the prisoners. answer was, that they should only obtain their freedom upon the restoration of all the swords, spades, shovels, and other tools which they had stolen. Failing in this, the ambassadors were told that the captives should be hung. This, of course, was a threat only. Meanwhile, two of the Englishmen fell into the hands of the natives,* who at once returned in numbers to the gates of Jamestown, and boldly threatened retaliation upon their prisoners if any of their people suffered harm. This threat was answered by a sally from Smith, who, "in lesse than an houre, so hampred their insolencies, they brought then his two men, desiring peace without any further composition for their prisoners." But peace was not so easily granted. The prisoners were subjected to a searching examination, and, under the terror of death, they revealed the scheme of a conspiracy against the colony, which involved Powhatan and all his tributary kings. This conspiracy had been maturing for some time, and had its birth before Smith himself had been taken prisoner. His arrest had been in consequence of this combination. Their plan had subsequently aimed to surprise them while at work. "Powhatan, and all his, would seeme friends till Captaine Newport's returne,' that he might recover his man Namontack in safety. Then he was to invite Newport to a great feast, and take advantage of the occasion to make him prisoner. Like devices were to involve other parties of the whites in a like predicament. Such was the amount of the confession made by Macanor, the counsellor of Paspahegh; a confession which was *"Ranging in the woods-which mischiefe no punishment will prevent but hanging."-Smith. confirmed only in part by the statements, similarly extorted,* of other Indians. By these it was learned “that Paspahegh and Chickahammania did hate us, and intended some mischief, and who they were that .tooke me, the names of them that stole our tooles and swords, and that Powhatan received them they all agreed " The tidings of the seizure of his subjects, their deten tion, their confession, and the constant exercise by Smith of his armed men, reached Powhatan, and rendered it necessary that he should be at some pains to disabuse the English of the unfriendly impressions which they had received of his own hostility. His safety, not his character, was the source of his solicitude. Accordingly, he despatched the boy Thomas Salvage, who had been given him by Newport, with a present of turkeys, especially to Smith and Scrivener, who, the sagacious old savage had already discovered, were the two master spirits of the settlement. The boy thus opportunely placed in his hands, at a moment when there was good ground for suspecting the intentions of the Emperor, Smith resolved to keep, and this increased the anxieties of the former. His next messenger betrayed the extent of his fears and his cunning. This was the young damsel Pocahontas. "Yet he sent his messengers, and his dearest daughter, Pocahontas, with presents to excuse him of the injuries done by some rash untoward captaines, his subjects, desiring their liberties for this time, with the assurance of his love for ever."+ Smith's own narrative is more explicit, and * "I bound one in hold to the maine-mast, and presenting six mus. kets with match in the cockes, forced him," &c. * After each examination, “certaine vollies of shot wee caused to be discharged, which caused each other to thinke that their fellowes had been slaine.” Smith. + "The true Travels," &c. ↑ "A true Relation," &c. Richmond ed. Vol. i., p. 171. more ambitious, though to the same effect. "Powhatan understanding we detained certain salvages, sent his daughter, a child of tenne years old, which not only for feature, countenance and proportion, much exceedeth any of the rest of his people, but for wit and spirit the only nonpareil of his country: this he sent by his most trustie messenger, called Rawhunt, as much exceeding in deformitie of person, but of a subtill wit and crafty understanding." Through these, the Emperor assured Smith that he greatly loved and respected him-that he must not doubt his affection-in proof of which he had sent his child, whom he most esteemed, to see him. Such was the message borne by Pocahontas. She brought from her father, as a present, a supply of bread and a deer. She entreated that the captives might be spared and set free. She also entreated that the boy might be sent back to her father, as he loved him exceedingly. Pocahontas might well urge such a prayer to the man whom her own entreaties had saved from death. It was with a happy policy that Powhatan made her his ambassador. If anything could touch the soul of Smith, at any moment, it must have been the presence of such a pleader; and how much must there have been of the pleasing and the tender in the interview between that young Indian child and the stern warrior, whose heart, in frequent trials of the world's strife, had perhaps grown somewhat callous against most human weaknesses! Yet he betrays none of this callosity while he treats with Pocahontas. Her gentle virtues, her eager, earnest interest in his behalf, her extreme youth and wonderful beauty, which made her the nonpareil of her race and country-these seem to have always had their influence over his soul, when she is the subject of consideration. He speaks of her as the dearest daughter, the little daughter of Powhatan; and in such tender diminutives sufficiently declares the feelings of a man who was but too commonly accustomed to conceal them. That he holds her as a thing almost perfect, we gather from his passing and unaffected utterances. He does not speak of her ostentatiously. It is only when it belongs to the absolute business of the narration that he employs her name, and then only in such manner as to make us regret that he does not use it more frequently. A few more passages of this description, and the character of Smith, which must be allowed to have suffered somewhat from a certain harshness and hardness of outline, would have had the requisite softening, and we should then have been at some loss to discover its deficiencies. But Pocahontas has her influence upon him, and it is one of no equivocal character. For the power of the Indian sovereign, her father, his own fierce courage did not allow him to entertain much respect; and, seeing through his faithlessness, he already half despises him. Opechancanough has his entreaties also, for some of the prisoners are his friends and subjects; and sending his presents, seeks an interview himself with Smith, to disarm his suspicions and hostility. But the latter smiles grimly and scornfully, and yields nothing. It is only to Pocahontas that he accords his prisoners. When Opechancanough and his attendants had gone, the prisoners were conducted to the church, and then, after prayer, bestowed upon Pocahontas. It is to her only that they are given ; their bows, arrows, and all that they had when taken, are surrendered at the same time without conditions, "to the king's daughter, in regard of her father's kindness in sending her." She herself was presented with certain trifles, which, we are told, contented her. She was probably contented easily. Her actions do not seem to have needed any less noble impulse than the native goodness, gen tleness, and benignity of her character. CHAPTER IV. In these decisive proceedings Smith had trespassed far beyond the limits of his authority. He had usurped the powers of the President and council in Virginia, and had disobeyed the mild instructions which had been sent out by the proprietors in England. His mind was not of a sort to submit easily to commands which were obviously founded in ignorance of the facts, and to restraints which did not regard their necessity; and just as little was he disposed to yield implicit obedience to a present authority which had always shown itself so impotent, at least, for good. His proceedings, though resulting in advantage to the colony, and though not a life of the Indians was taken, were met with rebuke and dissatisfaction among his brethren. "The patient councell, that nothing would move to warre with the salvages, would gladly have wrangled with Captaine Smith for his crueltie ;* yet none * Take a sample of these cruelties, which will at the same time give a lively picture of the life at Jamestown. It is from the "True Relation," by Smith himself: "Two daies after a Paspeheyan came to show us a glistering minerall stone; and with signes demonstrating it to be in great aboundance, like unto rockes; with some dozen morc I was sent to seeke to digge some quantitie, and the Indian to conduc mee; but suspecting this some trick to delude us, for to get some copper of us, or with some ambuscado to betray us, seeing him falter in his tale, being two miles on our way, led him ashore, where abusing (misleading) us from place to place, and so seeking either to have drawn us with him into the woods, or to have given us the slippe: I shewed him copper which I promised to have given him, if he had performed his promise, but for his scoffing and abusing us, I gave him twentie lashes with a rope, and his bowes and arrowes, bidding |