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The birth of Matoaka “flower between two streams”
who was called Pocahontas by her father; a name that meant “laughing and joyous
one.” This was also the name of her
mother.
In
Tsenacomoca, the land of the Pasapahegh
Tribe; in the place that is now known as
Virginia.
Father – Chief Powhaten Wahunsenaca
Mother – Pocahontas, the first wife of Wahunseneca
About 1596
Pocahontas sat in her family’s winter lodge
preparing a cradleboard for her new baby.
It was warm and the lodge was rich with story, song and family. Her older children, sisters and elderly aunts
surrounded her. They had prepared a warm
meal and teased her playfully for having a baby so late in life, so many years
after her last baby who was now grown.
She smiled to herself, remembering the time when she
was a young woman and Wahunsenaca had chosen her for his bride. She recalled the times by the river and the
breaking of the white clamshells over their heads and the feast that had
followed on their wedding day. He had
brought her and her father many gifts before they married. He had brought her small beautiful pearls
and a handful of the small margmella
shells that he the dug from the cliffs to win her heart. Later she told him that he would not have had
to work so hard for she already loved him.
He laughed but it was his way to respect the traditions of his tribe.
She had been afraid to leave their small tribe and
move to his parents lodge but her family was near by and they had visited
often. She recalled the fine cypress
canoe he had made to take her down the river to her new home. These were happy memories that filled her
mind as she worked quietly in the lodge.
She found herself in a dreamy state both night and day. Those who noticed said it was because she
would soon give birth.
She thought of the time when her husband was young
and was not yet the great Powhaten; chief of so many people. In those days she had been his only wife; the
wife he had loved and had chosen with such tenderness. They had begun each day at sunrise with a
prayer of gratitude and had bathed together each morning in the river.
Over the years she had watched him become a great
chief and had watched him bring many tribes together so that they would be
strong and prosper. It was a time of
peace and a time when there was food and shelter for everyone. To do this her husband had taken a wife in
each of the tribes to create blood relationships between all the people. It was a great honor to have such a man for a
husband but she missed his company when he was away visiting other villages and
holding council.
The rain on the outside of the lodge interrupted her
thoughts. It was a good time to be inside; to repair tools, make clothing and
rest. A group of women had gone to the
marshes to pick Tuckahoe and gather firewood and would be caught in the
storm. She had offered to go but they
insisted she should stay home and work on preparations for her new child.
Pocahontas was lovely in her soft deerskin skirt
that was decorated with the wildflowers of a summer day on the river. A robe was wrapped around her shoulders and
her hair hung long around her face and body.
A young grandchild wove black duck feathers into her hair and begged for
a story.
Her daughter came and offered to put oil on her arms
and legs to keep her warm. It was a
simple gesture of caring and kindness for this well loved and respected
mother. Pocahontas knew that they were
worried about her.
Her sister had scolded. “Your husband has many wives now. One from
each tribe and more children than he can count.
Why did he come to you? He didn’t
need another baby.”
She revered and respected her famous brother-in-law
but another baby for Pocahontas, at her age, worried her.
“This baby is a sign of Pocahontas’s worthiness,”
replied another Aunt. “It is an honor to
be blessed with a baby after so many years.
The baby will be wise and a special blessing to his father in his older
years.”
Pocahontas belonged to the Medicine Clan and was
herself a medicine woman and midwife.
She knew of the power of birth; how it could carry a mother away before
her milk began to flow. She knew these
things but was not afraid.
“Will you nurse and care for the baby if I should
sleep and not wake up after the birth?
Will you be my daughters mother?” she asked her sisters.
“Ah. You will live to see this one make you a
grandmother” they laughed but she knew they had heard her request and if need
be would care for her new baby as if she was their own. It was the way of her tribe.
Powhatan did not live in their lodge but had many
lodges; one in each of the tribes that had united under his leadership. This was the center but even here he had his
own lodge. He would come and visit with
them or sometimes call his first wife to him for council and warmth. These were special times to her and as they
both grew older they had increased in frequency.
Her fingers were stiff as she wove the necessary
branches for this new cradleboard. She
paid careful attention as she attached the brightly dyed branches to one another. It would be the most beautiful cradleboard
ever made. She had made the strings from
the dogbane she had gathered in the summer.
and had woven soft linings to keep the baby warm and secure. This would be her home and so it must be both
safe and beautiful.
In the corner the young girls tattooed themselves
and talked of their own future husbands.
Tattooing was a form of highly skilled embroidery and each girl took
pride in her work. It was also a form of
friendship and love. Another girl was
working carefully to string a necklace of pearls found in the bay. This would be used for trade and she was very
careful with her work. Their hair was cut close to their head with a long piece
in the back. They would keep their hair
in this way until they were married.
Pocahontas had been the midwife to many of these young girls and enjoyed
watching them grow up so strong in the ways of her people.
All morning they had woven mats, necessary for the
yehakins or houses. They had made
pottery and prepared food. Pocahontas
was happy for this restful time with the people she loved. She enjoyed their sweet laughter and knew her
child within her was looking forward to life in such a happy place.
As the day slipped away, the women put down their
handwork and began to prepare the evening meal.
It had been a good summer and so there was corn and deer and a sweet
wine from the wild grapes. The men came in from the forest where they were
making a new canoe. They brought fresh
fish that they had cooked by the river.
The fire at the center of the lodge was warm but the food was prepared
outside. This night it was a fish stew
served on large shells; the eldest of the tribe including Pocahontas being
served first.
As Pocahontas began her meal, the door opened and her
husband Potowan, entered the lodge. He
could have requested his meal in his own lodge but enjoyed eating with his wife
and his family. He had been far to the
north holding council with other chiefs who were worried about the Iroquois to
the north who had come down the river in their birch bark canoes in a possible
act of war. It was his dream to unite all the tribes. He was worried about the white men who came
to their shores. They said there were
many more and they were hungry for their land.
The priests had dreamt that men from the east would come and destroy
their way of life. Fearing this, he
worked hard to convince his council that unification, not war, was the answer.
Joining his wife, he allowed these worries to slip
away and enjoyed his meal. He joked and
told the children stories; Pocahontas smiling beside him. They filled their shell with the rich, warm
fish stew many times in gratitude for the good harvest they were
experiencing. They were served slices of
corn bread and bowls of beans. There
were nuts and dried berries.
After dinner he took out a small deerskin pouch
filled with the pearls of the bay. Gently he poured them into his wife’s hand.
“For our new daughter who will be a powerful
medicine woman for our people.”
Pocahontas picked up each pearl and held it in her
hands. She looked at them with wonder as
a sweet sorrow passed over her.
“For her wedding day. We will save them for her wedding day.”
The dancing was beginning and her husband was gently
pulling her to her feet. The fire lit
the faces of those she loved. She joined
the other women in a circle dance; her husband the chief of all the lands
smiling at her each time she passed.
More people came from other lodges; the smoke and
music and sounds of happy people filling the forest. Always they would stop to
honor Pocahontas and send blessings to the baby. They admired the beautiful cradleboard; its
fine design and delicate decorations.
Potowan stood beside her. “Our baby will feel strong and cared for in
the strong arms of her cradleboard. From
here she will listen to the stories of our people and watch how hard they work.
“
He looked at his wife’s face and saw that she was
tired. Quietly he took her hand and the
cradleboard and led them into his own lodge that was quiet. He made her a small fire and wrapped her in
deerskin robes that were warm and soft.
Later that night she gave birth to her baby daughter
and named her Matoaka before she passed into the spirit world.
Her daughter was placed in the beautiful cradleboard
her mother had made her and was cared for and nursed by all the women of the
village. She grew up strong and would
look forward to her father’s visits. In time
she went to live with him in his village and to learn from him. Her father called her Pocahontas, after her
mother and treasured her above all his children. She was strong and loved the land as he did.
In time she was married to a man she loved who
brought her many gifts. There was a
feast in their honor and shells were sprinkled over their heads. She had a son and lived in the ways of her
people. One day she was kidnapped by the
men from Jamestown and her young husband was murdered. She was held in captivity for many
years. While in captivity she had
another son and was married to an Englishman.
She tried to bring peace to the land she loved and in this effort she
died leaving her two sons to be raised in very different ways; one by her
Potowan people and one by people she did not know in England.
She had told both her sons that no matter where they
were or what happened to them she, their mother, would always be with
them. She showed them how to greet the
sun each morning with a prayer of gratitude that would last all the day.
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