Over the Seas

by Josephine Bell

  He did not compete. He had no wish to embroil himself in any further unprofitable, dangerous traffic with the other sex. Besides, Mistress Bartlett early showed her preference for rank, however unworthy the possessor in the sight of the majority. Even the unpopular George Tucker enjoyed her favours. The honest artisan was cold-shouldered where the unskilled lounger was ogled.

  Mistress Sugden was highly indignant at such open shamelessness. It put her in mind of Bristol, she told Alec, which made him laugh heartily for the first time since he had his discomforting news from England.

  ‘John is set upon building a house for him and Anne Burrows when he hath finished the cargo of glass he prepares for sending into England. They will marry in the spring, if all prospers.’

  ‘Polly should find her a husband too, or rather ye should find one for her.’

  She looked at him, compelling his attention.

  ‘Thou knows where I would choose, Sandy, if so be he showed an inclination. Poll will never look elsewhere. Her heart is fixed.’

  It grieved him to disappoint the good woman, for whom he had a deep affection as well as admiration. But he only said in a low bitter voice, ‘I am not worthy the love of any honest woman,’ and went out to the boats and the sea, where he spent most of his days at this time. Mistress Sugden kept this brief exchange to herself, for she did not want to add to Polly’s disappointment and humiliation.

  Captain Newport set about his preparations for the crowning of Powhatan, with general approval but very little initial success. The chief’s fellow tribesman was sent back to his lord with full instructions but after a long delay a message was sent by another subject to the effect that Powhatan acknowledged the intended compliment, but would not leave his capital at Weromancomoco, twenty miles or more up the James River from the settlement.

  There was no arguing with the suspicious potentate. His own policies depended upon flattery, deceit and treachery. Naturally he assumed like methods from the newcomers. He welcomed any move they made towards an extended peace, for he had found them profitable and he had not yet succeeded in getting hold of their ‘fire sticks’ which he coveted strongly. Let them bring this object of adornment and he would entertain them regally.

  Captain Newport was affronted; President Smith was amused but cautious; the Council, having little knowledge apart from Master Scrivenor, agreed with the President.

  So in the end an expedition set forth in one of the pinnaces attended by a number of ship’s boats, together with coracles and canoes made by the settlers. Captain Newport went with the President and the Council, the senior gentlemen among the settlers, their equivalent among the newcomers and about a dozen of the more light-hearted younger men, including Alec. They took their pistols, their swords and daggers, but no larger firearms. A few that had no new clothes since they first landed, wore their armour. But Captain Newport had brought with him a few fashionable suits of fine cloth, one for the President of dark purple velvet, with a lace collar and cuffs in the new fashion and a gold chain to hang about his neck.

  ‘You represent His Majesty the King,’ Captain Newport explained coldly, when the President demurred at putting on such finery. He had never approved of John Smith, though he had to acknowledge the man had brought order and some industry to the settlement. If only he had not such an uncomfortable mode of speech, such a wish to differ, to argue, such a capacity for harsh, even brutal behaviour, particularly to the natives, such a knack of being right in his judgments.

  On this occasion Captain Smith gave in. He accepted the purple velvet costume, with its short black cloak lined with scarlet silk and its smart black hat with a scarlet upright feather at the side.

  ‘Powhatan will have a great circlet of feathers about his brows,’ Captain Smith said, laughing. ‘My feather will match only that of my little friend, the Princess Pocahontas.’

  Just before they embarked the President took Alec to one side.

  ‘They have so dressed me up I cannot wear my body armour,’ he explained. ‘The breeches have a quilted lining, but afford little protection from arrow or knife.’

  ‘Are we then to expect an attack?’ Alec asked, astounded.

  ‘Nay, lad. Not from Powhatan. Or not before the ceremony, I’ll swear, for he must feel a great curiosity as to its nature. ‘Tis from nearer at home I must be on my guard.’

  Alec nodded but said nothing.

  ‘A certain Rat,’ went on the President, ‘doth gnaw his heart out with rage and envy that his self-considered grandeur is ignored, his mutiny still held against him. He hath one or two followers, who convey news to him in his lodging on Mary and Margaret.’

  ‘Your absence—’ Alec began.

  ‘Is provided for,’ Captain Smith answered. ‘I simply need another pair of eyes to keep me from harm while mine are fixed upon Powhatan as I crown him.’

  ‘My eyes and arms shall be at your service, sir,’ Alec answered with a formal bow.

  ‘Then I shall have no further fears. Come, boy.’

  The procession of boats got under way with much cheerful shouting and splashing, with mariners cursing the small craft with music played on recorders magically produced from treasured stores and Indian tom-toms to beat out the rhythm. Those left behind in the settlement for it was not abandoned defenceless, watched the noisy departure, framed in the regal gold, scarlet and crimson of the autumn trees, until it passed the first bend in the river. They stayed a little longer, listening to the pipes and drums, still playing the old tunes of England, last heard by many at country fairs or similar gatherings in the fields outside London City walls.

  In Weromancomoco the great Powhatan, too, had made preparation for his guests with dancing by young girls and a banquet. He could not prepare for the ceremony of crowning, since he had no idea what it meant nor how it was performed. But he arranged about himself his elders, his wise men, his principal squaws, his sons and in marked prominence his favourite daughter, Pocahontas, still spoiled, but no longer the insistent child deliverer from death of Captain John Smith. Both her success on that occasion and her growth into early womanhood with its attendant ceremonies, had given her an added dignity and quiet determination that were impressive, since she was scarcely even now much more than thirteen years of age.

  The James Town party disembarked with help from Powhatan’s braves, all painted and feathered for the occasion. The President had arranged during the voyage for guards to be placed with the boats both on board and on shore. Though the procession was to carry no arms but their pistols and swords, the pinnace carried a demi-culverin, discreetly covered with its attendant gunners. Captain Newport approved of these arrangements, though he did not anticipate trouble of any kind. Captain Smith always anticipated trouble wherever he was and usually found it.

  The procession formed up outside the great wigwam where Powhatan awaited them, seated and lit by several fires near to the entrance. The chief sat in semi-darkness on a raised wooden throne, robed in a great deerskin cloak with chains of pearls and beads about his neck, leather fringed and decorated trousers and a beaded leather belt in which a long hunting knife was thrust. He did not move as the procession entered, nor did his braves or the strangely garbed wise men. But he grunted an order and Namontack stepped forward to act as interpreter.

  Captain Newport explained the reason for the crowning. It was to confirm the great chiefs position in these lands that had now been taken into the protection of his own lord, the great chief and king over the water, who ruled lands beside which the kingdom of Powhatan was but a tiny part.

  Alec caught the President’s eye at this point. John Smith, who knew most of Europe and the Middle East, found this description of the small northern island ludicrous. From what he had seen so far the New World could well be formed on a scale that would overtop the whole of Europe. However, effrontery was much to his liking, so though the eyes turned to Alec gleamed with laughter, the face remained as usual quiet, bold, resolute, the short greying beard adding strength to
the already strong jaw.

  When Captain Newport had finished the President stepped forward and said in a loud voice in the Algonquin language, ‘Great chief, rise and come forward to receive the crown!’

  Captain Newport was now handed the copper crown on a velvet cushion, two gentlemen attendants stood on either hand and the President, in turn receiving the crown, repeated his respectful order.

  There was a little delay while Powhatan examined the situation that seemed to him to bear some resemblance to an ambush. He took counsel. Namontack gave his opinion on the sincerity of the paleface delegation. He had been very suitably impressed by his whole experience of London and of the King’s court there. He advised compliance. It was a compliment, it made peace certain, and with peace came trade and gain to both sides.

  Powhatan, cautiously convinced, stepped from his throne, removing his feathered circlet and came forward. But when asked to kneel, he refused. He had never knelt in his life, to any man, for any purpose; only when a boy to take aim with an arrow from his bow. Nor would he bow. But since he was considerably taller than President Smith, who could not easily reach up to put the crown on his head, he did condescend to lower it. Whereupon the two attendant gentlemen leaned a little on his shoulders so that he was forced to bend a trifle lower and the crown was securely placed while Smith said the appropriate words, the English contingent raised a cheer and the Indians stared silently, not a little awed to see their emperor with this gleaming thing on his head instead of his usual covering.

  It was at this moment that Alec, fulfilling the purpose for which he stood so close to the principals, saw a stealthy movement on his right begin to change speed into a charge. His sword flashed out, he struck with the flat of it at a naked brown wrist. A knife spun in the air and fell to the ground.

  Powhatan did not move. Captain Newport and the President swept round in their places, staring. Though he heard nothing Alec found his arms held to his sides and in his turn made no movement. A few feet away the would-be attacker struggled in the hands of four Indians.

  President Smith strode forward, pointing at Alec.

  ‘That man is my bodyguard, great King Powhatan,’ he said in a loud voice. ‘Loose him! He hath saved me from the assassin’s knife!’

  Alec felt his arms freed. Without turning he lifted his sword and returned it to its sheath. Smith nodded to him and stepped towards the other prisoner. He was quiet now, shivering with fear and the shock of total failure, for he had looked to escape in the hubbub he meant to cause.

  ‘This is no Indian, though he is dressed as such!’ the President roared. ‘See, Powhatan, his hair is black but it curls. He hath shaved off his beard but it is strong and shows dark on his face. He hath but stained his body to match his face, bronzed by your summer sun. Give me water and I will prove it.’

  But there was no need. The wretch sank to his knees, confessing it was Master Ratcliffe had devised the plot whereby President Smith would be killed and his death laid to an unknown native. He had meant to make his way back to the boats, put on his own clothes. His absence would never be detected.

  Namontack translated all this to Powhatan, who had returned to his throne, impassive as usual. Not so his daughter, who ran to Captain Smith, throwing her arms about him and exclaiming that he belonged to her still, given to her by her father. To attempt his life was treason and merited death.

  ‘Is it treason?’ Powhatan asked.

  ‘In that I am here the Representative of my king, it is treason, great chief, and merits death.’

  ‘If he were yours to receive this death in your country, how would it be?’

  ‘He would be hanged, drawn and quartered and the quarters set upon the piers of London Bridge or above the gates of the Tower.’

  ‘I have seen this,’ Namontack added. ‘He speaks truth.’

  ‘You would give him this death?’

  ‘I would have him tried by a court, with twelve men, chosen at random. If they found him guilty he would be condemned to that death.’

  Powhatan thought, while Pocahontas went back to him to plead her right to have the prisoner and do what she would with him. Presently he lifted his head and asked, ‘How can I be sure he will be punished? If these twelve men said nay, would he not die?’

  ‘Nay, lord. I would send him away to England, but I would have no authority to carry out that death here.’

  Powhatan rose.

  ‘You have no authority to take him from my men. You are not here in your own land, but in mine. We will eat while we consider this matter.’

  The prisoner was removed and the visitors invited to dispose themselves comfortably for the dancing and the feasting.

  The entertainment was barbaric but colourful. Taken with the copious food and heady drink any nerves shaken by the unfortunate action of Ratcliffe’s mutinous followers were soon quieted. The man had been identified immediately by the President, less readily by the gentlemen adventurers and not at all by Newport or any of the other settlers in the crowning party. With such a mixed company it had been easy enough for the man, one of those unsatisfactory younger sons of the landed gentry in England, to join, his body ready stained, his scant Indian garb beneath his clothes, one of the ship’s boats where the other inmates did not know him.

  Alec, still acting as bodyguard, considered all this as he joined in the feasting and admired the coarse beauty and lewd dancing of the girls that promised some difficulty in reassembling the settlers to return to James Town.

  Pocahontas sat at President Smith’s left hand, Powhatan, still wearing the copper crown on the right, Alec behind with Namontack, the interpreter. The dancing ended with an open invitation by the girls to follow them outside. Some sprang up at once to follow, others tried, but they had drunk too much, staggered about and fell. The watching Indians smiled and nudged one another but did not laugh openly. They knew of conditions in the Settlement nor were they affronted by what was merely the usual provision for an honoured guest.

  But President Smith foresaw trouble if too many of his men dispersed for the night. He wanted them safely in the boats before the matter of their guilty comrade was settled in the manner be foresaw only too well. So he rose from between the father and daughter, with grave dignified words of praise and thanks for the honour done to him and his men. Powhatan returned the thanks, touching the crown which had begun to weigh on his forehead. He wanted to take it off, but decided to see the strangers go first.

  ‘About that troublesome fellow of mine—’ Captain Smith began, but Pocahontas, hearing the translation cried, ‘He is mine, my father! He attacked my hero, my loved one!’

  Stroking her neck indulgently, Powhatan said, ‘The man is deserving of death. You agree?’

  ‘I agree,’ answered the President. ‘But our justice demands his trial.’

  ‘In your own country?’

  ‘In my own country and the dependencies, of which James Town is now one.’

  ‘But we are here in my country,’ said Powhatan, his cold black eyes unmovingly on Captain Smith.

  ‘That is so also, King Powhatan,’ Smith agreed.

  There was complete understanding between them. The President wasted no time in gathering his men together and marching them back to the boats. Some of them, led by Alec, rounded up the missing. This task was nearly finished when a fresh fire began to blaze at the edge of the forest away from Powhatan’s great dwelling.

  ‘Get to the boats!’ Alec cried. ‘I’ll follow at once.’

  He knew very well, before the screaming began, what the fire meant. The men with him knew. They stopped, horrified, an inclination to save one of their own race from these savages moved them, but a stronger inclination to avoid his fate kept them rooted. From among them George Tucker started forwards, babbling of rescue, furious, but terrified.

  ‘Go, fools!’ Alec shouted. ‘All of ye! Would ye have us all massacred!’

  They ran, but he turned and raced in the direction of the fire and the screaming. H
e saw they had the would-be assassin fastened to a tree in their usual fashion. They had already hacked off the tips of his fingers which dripped blood. They were preparing their torches to burn holes in his body and their knives to flay him.

  Alec’s knees shook, he could not go forward. A man rose from the ground before him. It was Namontack, who said to him in his limited English, ‘This usual custom.’ He had heard the phrase very often in England. ‘Must not try stop it.’

  Alec knew what he must do. Though he felt his face and body drenched with a cold sweat he drew his pistol and forcing a grin said, ‘I stopped the man. He is mine, too. Pocahontas, yes. But mine, too. I demand to do what I will with him.’

  Namontack understood. Not the whole of it, but enough to stop the fiends at their work, to persuade them to stand back as the big red-haired foreigner came near.

  The bound wretch, gasping, moaning, beyond all control, lifted his bloodshot eyes and screamed again at sight of the pistol in Alec’s hand.

  ‘They’ll not let ye die quick,’ Alec said. ‘’Tis all I can do for ye, traitor!’

  He fired at close range, seeing the other’s eyes glaring into his, his twisted mouth spitting rage and despair.

  When the man’s head fell forward Alec turned his back on the interpreter, on the groans of disgust, the whispering, the fierce sudden words of violence. He walked steadily away to the edge of the clearing and disappeared among the trees.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The crowning was accomplished, but the results did not promise any great improvement in the colony’s relations with Powhatan or his subjects. The expedition returned to James Town in a subdued frame of mind. Even Captain Newport could not but blame Master Ratcliffe for his conspiracy. For the ex-President, though shaken by its failure, was unrepentant.