Virginia Carter Castleman

“ He who dares vile slander make or evil think
Is unworthy woman's love or England's trust."
"No offense was meant," the Captain quick replied,
"'Tis romantic tale, and still a nine days' wonder,
You, the noble victim of a murderous plot,
Maiden's fancy but the arbiter of fate."
"Idle Gossip hath her day," Smith slowly said—
"Let us plan to carry out the crowning farce,
May it serve to charm the haughty Powhatan,
As it pleases England's monarch for the time.
Yes, the scarlet robe will dazzle Indian chief,
An' it is your wish to make of him a clown. ”

“ IV. CORONATION OF POWHATAN. It was near the time of Indian Summer in the land,
Mellow haze pervaded earth and sky and sea,
White sails drifting over waters calm were mirrored
In the blue. The seagulls followed swiftly on.
Up James River glided in their well-manned barge
Captains twain in search of Wahunsunakok.
Heaped on either bank they saw the golden corn,
Store of Winter food, the bread the settlers craved,
Bartering kettles, beads, and ribbons gay to squaws,
And to warriors—hatchets, knives, and sometimes guns. ”

“ Day by day she grew in grace of form and beauty,
Till to where the river meets the rolling sea,
Spread her fame as loveliest of Indian maidens.
Born a princess of the forest, born to rule—
Rule the hearts of men with chains of love—was she. ”

“ Such as natives grow—perchance its soothing power
Anger will assuage; vexations disappear
In these wreaths of smoke King James will never see!
"Of one thing be thou assured," said Newport, smiling—
"That King James will at your hands (through me) require
Full account of crowning of the Werowance,
Cost of every gift bestowed upon the chief,
Or upon that charming Princess Pocahontas,
Rumor couples with your name, Sir President!"
"Nay, Newport, a child in years, the bright-eyed maid,
Yet with heart of gold and mother wit
Working e'er to save our colony from ruin. ”

“ When they told him England's monarch wished him crowned
"Emperor Powhatan," had presents sent forsooth,
Indian chieftain stood erect in proud disdain,
"I am king" his look, his manner plainly said,
"King of people who are natives in this land
White Man covets—mine the power to give or keep."
"'Tis but token of our love for you," said Smith,
While unfolding, spreading wide the scarlet robe. ”

“ And the old squaw whispered back to her in following,
"Unto Jamestown we will go together, Daughter."
So they journeyed onward through the field and forest,
While the silver moonbeams fitful shadows made
On their pathway, till they reached the settlers' country,
Saw the palisades and houses of the English.
"Father," cried the Princess, kneeling by the bedside
Of the sometime President, who suffering lay—
"Art thou wounded sore, and is it true they say
That to England thou must go, or life's in danger? ”

“ Of them all was none more gleeful, none more artless
Than the little Matoax, [FN#1] dearest of the daughters
Of the mighty Werowance, [FN#2] Powhatan the warrior
Ruler of the tribes, from whom was named the river
And the wigwam village and the dark-skinned natives.
None in all the land, from mountain unto sea,
None more brave, more stern, and none more feared than he.
Dear to him the chase, the war, the trembling captives,
And the rustling pines whose fragrance filled the air—
Ah! 'Twas in the Springtime, and the world was fair.
[FN#1] Matoax, tribal name of Pocahontas. ”

“ Few and fleeting are the years we've known each other,
Thou hast ever been the White Man's loyal friend.
Keep the trust I give thee with my parting blessing.
Still defend these homes, make peace among thy people,
God reward thee, Princess, in the days to come."
Fainter grew his breath from pain, the watching soldiers
Motioned her away, she turned from them in silence,
Followed by the old squaw, glided from the cabin.
Tears came not that day, despair was in her heart,
Dark the future to the lonely Indian maid.
VII. POCAHONTAS AND JOHN ROLFE. Swiftly passed two years ”

“ Pocahontas, hear me! you are lonely, too."
Surged the rich red over dusky cheek and brow,
Then as sudden vanished as she answered softly,
"Thou an Englishman, to wed an Indian maiden?
Ah, Mr. Rolfe, once did I know not difference
'Twist the Red Man's squaw, the White Man's honored wife,
Indian princess was one truly, not a plaything
Whom the world might scorn at will—
But now! ”

“ It was thus that Rolfe, the English planter saw her,
And the picture of the maiden at her beadwork
Haunted long his memory as he sat alone
In the home bereft of woman's love and care.
Long he mused and sadly on his mournful fortunes
Since the fateful shipwreck on Bermuda's shore
That had left him lonely, left a gloomy shadow
On his New World home.
Then he broke the silence:
"Others who have loved and lost to grief consent not.
Rouse them from their sorrow unto nobler purpose.
Well I know that melancholy claims the captive,
Marks the trembling hostage for its own—
Alas! ”

“ Simple natives of this beauteous land to sway,
Tribes to hold in check; these struggling homes to foster,
Realizing dream of years, desire of nations.
You alone hold key to knowledge of this country,
For the which bold science will reward you well."
"Key to knowledge?—It is here," Smith made reply,
Holding up to view his lately finished maps,
Work of months at cost of body and of brain.
"Here," he added, lifting closely written sheets,
"Look! first draft of this, my "Generall Historie." [FN#6]
[FN#6] Smith's "Generall Historie" pub. in England in 1624. ”

“ Gave her presents, daily asked her to their homes.
Winganameo nodded sagely as she listened,
But she spoke a word of warning to the Princess:
"Let not Pale Face bring unto you sorrow, Matoax;
As a mother I have watched you coming, going,
Princess born, 'tis many a warrior would wed you,
Better could you find a male among your own;
For the Pale Face is not of us, is a stranger ”