Telling Truth or Telling Lies: An Examination of the Impact of Robert Dale Owen on the Pocahontas Myth
Jack Nilles, University of Minnesota
[1] In 1914, Dr. John Walter Wayland, a professor of history and social science at James Madison University in Harrisonburg, Virginia, wrote a handbook for teachers and students alike, entitled How to Teach American History. "Wherever we live," he says, "we have the history of all the world before us and about us; but naturally and properly we study first what is nearest – nearest in place, if not in time." History must initially "begin at home." For Wayland, who published entire volumes on the early days of Virginia during his lifetime, only one figure can begin the American epic: Pocahontas (46-47). Countless other academics in similar fields have agreed with him. Ann Uhry Abrams, in The Pilgrims and Pocahontas: Rival Myths of American Origin, for example, calls the legend of Pocahontas "the genesis of American history." It lends "credence to regional identities," she says, "but also foster[s] a panoply of rituals," thus, shaping a cultural identity (3). The story of Virginia, however, and indeed that of Pocahontas, is a tale riddled with uncertainties – the greatest origin myths always are.
[2] It was not until 2007 that the first cohesive Algonquin oral account of her tale, The True Story of Pocahontas: The Other Side of History, was published in print. This story, previously conveyed solely by oral transmission from generation to generation, challenges many of the story's long accepted accounts and raises a myriad of new uncertainties. The reservations with which the traditional historical accounts are received today, and with which they were received even when the story's characters still lived, invariably lead to conflicting evolutions, often as a result of the storyteller's investment in its message. Nevertheless, as Wayland suggests, one must learn one's own history first.
[3] For the authors of The True Story of Pocahontas, Dr. Linwood Custalow, a Mattaponi descendant of Pocahontas's tribe, and his collaborator, Angela L. Daniel, their work does just that, though not without controversy. "The narrative of the book," they say, "is true to [our] oral history" of the Pocahontas legend (1). While the book bases itself on the presumption of fact, or what Custalow and Daniel deem "history," their account continuously makes bold claims. For instance, they contend that instead of John Rolfe, "Sir Thomas Dale might have been the biological father of Pocahontas's son Thomas," and that Pocahontas died not of tuberculosis but from being poisoned (83, 96). Custalow and Daniel's arguments are dramatically revisionary, even in 2007. Because their assertions radically change the terms of the Pocahontas myth, questions about the accuracy of their claims are inevitable. Since oral histories are by nature a form of storytelling, even more so than historical texts already are, Custalow and Daniel invite these questions: in telling one's own history, especially from memory, does fiction dictate fact? Or, in another sense, is it true that literature takes precedence over history?
[4] Although Custalow and Daniel ask their readers to reject the well known legends derived from writings about Pocahontas and John Smith, substituting the "truthful" oral account from their own people, they are not the only would-be historians who have constructed the events at Jamestown according to their own set of values. In 1834, for instance, one of the pioneer advocates for women's rights created a Pocahontas story based on feminist values. That pioneer, Indiana politician Robert Dale Owen, was incidentally neither American nor female. Born on November 9, 1801, in Glasgow, Scotland, to Caroline and Robert Owen, the latter of whom was a renowned British social reformer, Robert Dale Owen began his stake in American history after moving to the United States in 1825. At that time, Owen left school in Switzerland and travelled to southern Indiana to help his father and brothers establish a community dubbed New Harmony – an economic utopian cooperative founded on agricultural industry. While the experimental community became increasingly divided by 1829 owing to communitarian disagreements, an unyielding friendship emerged between Owen and New Harmony resident Frances Wright, another social reformer with whom he moved to New York City later that year, after the Owens dissociated themselves from the town. Wright, who held radical "ideas on birth control and the 'emancipation' of women, shaped his opinions" for years to come (Abrams 129). Universal suffrage, secular education, and the abolition of slavery all became staples of Owen's political ideology.
[5] Records show Owen moving back to New Harmony between 1832 and 1833. The community provided a location to launch a political agenda leading him to the Indiana House of Representatives and the United States House of Representatives shortly thereafter. Throughout his illustrious time in politics, Owen allocated government funds for free public schools, passed divorce legislation, secured a woman's right to control her own property in Indiana, wrote a bill for the creation of the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, D.C., drafted the Fourteenth Amendment, and allegedly influenced President Lincoln in his decision to end slavery (Simkin). In the midst of his career, however, Owen crafted a play that would catapult Pocahontas to the forefront of the early American feminist movement, reinforce the image of noble savagery, and critique Jacksonian policies regarding American Indians.
[6] Pocahontas: A Historical Drama, according to Owen himself, was the product of winter musings in 1836 and 1837 (21). "Enthusiasm for amateur dramatics ran high in 1834" following what was described as "renewed activity of the Thespian Society" in New Harmony (Leopold 133). Theater was unfortunately one of the only few aspects of public life working well for the sometimes tumultuous community. As a man of the people, Owen decided to work on a piece of his own. As he notes in his play's "Introductory Essay," Owen thought the Pocahontas story to be "in every heart" since it is "a marked epoch in [United States'] history." Despite his Scottish heritage and Indiana residency, Owen felt strongly connected to his new homeland. Furthermore, he believed that in telling the tale of Pocahontas he could connect readers "with the fates of a noble race [that was] fast fading away" by the nineteenth century (21). However, having reportedly seen an oil painting of Pocahontas only once, having gathered his knowledge of historical events almost exclusively from the narratives of John Smith, and lacking any formal training in writing dramas, his adventure in literature produced interesting results, especially because of its conversion of Pocahontas into an instrument of radical American views (Tilton 105). Nearly a century later, analysis of the play by means of examining Owen's political opinions illustrates how convincingly Pocahontas encompasses his fight for minority and women's rights. In fact, it serves as one of the first instances where Pocahontas becomes the vehicle for an author's political agenda.
[7] Pocahontas: A Historical Drama intersperses Owen's feminist and racial commentaries throughout a condensed version of the Pocahontas myth in classic, five-act form, preceded by a short introduction in which the importance and influence of historical and dramatic fiction as literary genres is discussed. His first act centers on life in Jamestown. Colonists discuss the trials and tribulations of an existence far separated from the comforts of England. Yet, not everyone in the settlement longs for the bustling streets of London, and divisions are marked by those who support the adventurous John Smith as their leader and others who stand behind the more refined John Ratcliffe.
[8] Act Two offers a glimpse into the ways of American Indian life. Owen establishes the rare strength of Pocahontas – her incredible marksmanship, the ability to sympathize with her nation's enemies, and her willingness to stand amongst warriors if Jamestown incites war. Nevertheless, by saving John Smith from death after he is captured by her people, Pocahontas comes into conflict with her elders.
[9] The third act mounts tensions within both settlements. As the English increasingly divide between those wishing to return to England and those intending to stay and colonize, Pocahontas's relationships within Jamestown threaten to rip apart her nation. Not only does she come to see Smith as a father figure, but her budding relationship with John Rolfe begins to emerge.
[10] Because the rescue of Smith occurs so early in his play's sequence of events, in Act Four, Owen needs another climax, and he stages it. When Powhatan learns that his gods are unhappy with a looming English presence, he decides to wage war. Pocahontas, trying to save Jamestown from destruction, runs into the night to warn Smith and Rolfe of the coming warriors. She is captured, however, by Ratcliffe and company before she can return home.
[11] Used as a pawn to prevent her father from attacking and to keep Smith from maintaining power in Jamestown (because he befriended the American Indians), Pocahontas is held prisoner at the beginning of Act Five. Yet, in a fight for her freedom and his dominance in the colony, Smith battles Ratcliffe while Rolfe frees the young maiden. In the end, Smith holds off Ratcliffe and his men long enough for Pocahontas to be rescued but is wounded (by swordfight) in the process. The American Indians never come – a young chief, Paspaho, learns of Smith's kind ways and convinces his people to not attack. Thus, the play ends with Smith sailing back to England. Pocahontas falls in love with Rolfe because he frees her, and Pocahontas's and Rolfe's relationship repairs relations between Jamestown and the American Indians. Sadly, Owen chooses not to include a baptism, the marriage scene, the pregnancy of Pocahontas, the voyage to England, and the untimely death of Pocahontas. For the amount of social commentaries mixed into his plot, Owen ultimately misses many other opportunities to further his arguments. Nonetheless, several radical details in the play remain.
[12] Owen's version of the Pocahontas myth presents one of the first feminist interpretations of the "Indian princess," making it the most discussed (although briefly) aspect of the piece amongst this century's Pocahontas scholars (118). Abrams, for instance, says the depiction points toward the "exploitation of women" in the nineteenth century (129). Robert S. Tilton, in Pocahontas: The Evolution of an American Narrative, similarly notes that Pocahontas acts as an "early spokeswoman for women's rights (74). Indeed, Owen puts Pocahontas on fairly equal grounds with her male counterparts. For instance, after being warned by her sister, Nomony, of the danger that exists when "Indian maids dwell" amongst white men, Pocahontas boldly proclaims, "I am born / To aide, but not to slave; to stand beside, / Not crouch behind, the Chief who says he loves me" (149). The man she speaks of is her father, Powhatan, "the paramount chief of the Powhatan nation" (Custalow 5). Her sentiment proves bold. On one level she demonstrates her bravery as the only female to stand up to the "pale-faced strangers" (Owen 35). Her statement also illustrates her belief that she deserves the same respect and dignity as does the man who holds the highest position amongst her people. This depiction of Pocahontas emphasizes power.
[13] Scholars, however, enjoy pointing towards Pocahontas's thoughts about marriage as a means for representing her feminist character. Again, in conversing with her sister Pocahontas wonders, "thinkest thou / Woman was made [. . . ] To share man's confidence – win his respect – / To be – to be – his Equal? That's the word" (149). These sentiments prove both daring and representative of Owen's time, depending on one's historical perspective, considering the Women's Rights Convention in Seneca Falls, New York, was already more than ten years away at the time of Owen's writing. Pocahontas clearly sees herself as bringing as much to a marriage as her potential suitor. Interestingly, though, when intimate feelings develop between her and Rolfe later in the play, racial differences do not present problems for Pocahontas – she fails to mention the issue at all. Thus, gender equality ultimately trumps racial equality in the play. While Pocahontas's feelings on women and their widely recognized position as inferior to men is revolutionary, her comments come when she secludes herself with Nomony; hence, it appears as though she understands the serious social implications of making such proclamations among her nation's men. Because Owen, like the real John Smith, fails as an expert on the position of American Indian women in native society, Pocahontas's convictions prove more of a commentary on what the condition of women in the United States could become, rather than an accurately expressed depiction of a woman's status in the nineteenth century – especially that of women of color.
[14] As if to complement Pocahontas's ideas, however, and to illustrate that she is not alone in her attitude, Owen echoes her position with other characters. While white men see American Indian women in much the same way they view white women – as individuals who simply enjoy receiving "lots of beads and other baubles" – Anne Burras, a colonist, holds the same ideals as Pocahontas (115). In the midst of a conversation between John Ratcliffe and Gabriel Archer, for example, Burras interrupts in a moment of dramatic irony. Archer defiantly states, "Smith may be dead. At all events, / He is a prisoner – his friends are weak –" at which point Burras, without missing a beat, walks onstage and blurts out, "Your pardon, gentleman" (100). She is indeed a friend of Smith, and she challenges the colony's councilmen by ensuring her presence until his return to the settlement.
[15] Owen presents women as undoubtedly strong and in-control. Some of the play's men also reiterate Pocahontas's feminist ideology. For example, when she and John Rolfe share a moment of intimacy toward the end of the play, John Smith claims the "spell of love" is "familiar, mutual, [and] requited" (203). Therefore, marriage is not strictly defined by a man's terms. In fact, when Pocahontas falls in love with Rolfe, Nomony asks her, "Thou'rt free?" as if to ensure her sister will not live a life of servitude under Rolfe if the relationship continues. The question proves provocative because it warrants a yes or no answer. In other words, it makes it appear as though Pocahontas could refuse Rolfe if she so pleased. In essence, she is free already. Thus, Owen creates an image of Pocahontas who is progressive and in line with the movement of white women toward equality – a depiction unmatched prior to his piece.
[16] Pocahontas is so dynamic that she not only becomes aligned with white women, but she becomes more dignified than all of the white characters – women and men. Incidentally, this has nothing to do with her royal status. In polarizing the depictions of American Indians and the settlers of Jamestown, Owen aptly portrays the noble savage, a prevalent depiction in the nineteenth century. The tone between both groups is evident from the first act. "A murrain light on them who beguiled us comfort and good rations at home to herd it here […] among dirty, heathen Indians!" colonist Hans Krabhuis tells his friend John Laydon when ranting about the "forsaken wilderness" they live in (Owen 29, 32). Krabhuis is not alone in his early sentiments – the hatred is actually mutual. Paspaho makes it clear several times that "the pure blood of [his] untainted race" must not end with "sickly-skinned intruders" (70).
[17] In spite of the battle of words, Owen's text is overridingly more judgmental towards Jamestown. Out of the disgust between the English and the American Indians, Rolfe and Smith are the only colonists who demonstrate a civilized attitude towards the Powhatan nation. "There's a heart / Beats under that dusk skin," Rolfe says, to which Smith replies, "right sorry should I be / To see the noble savage bend his knee" (160). Stuck in their ways from England, "Where worth and rank take birth from Princes' smiles, / And not from gallant deeds or fair desert," colonists like Ratcliffe and Christopher Newport cannot fathom showing respect towards the American Indians (160). For Owen, it is more effective to illustrate stagnant English characters and to present Pocahontas and her peers as the play's civilized individuals – hardly a popular position during his time.
[18] The good nature of the Powhatan people is best displayed by the contrasting ways in which the English and American Indians are treated while in captivity. When Pocahontas is taken by Ratcliffe and company, she is locked away. "Chains! these are [English] chains! How cold they are! / They've chilled my very heart!" she laments, until she finally begs the Great Spirit to "let [her] have death" (193). Though the details of her captivity are notably absent from the plot, for a woman with great faith in her people and in white colonists like her adopted "father," John Smith, to help her in a time of need, wishing death upon herself indicates significant maltreatment in the hands of the colonists (124). John Smith fares better, with decent treatment during his captivity after being rescued. While Owen initially sets up the capture by having Smith face death, once Pocahontas "saves" him, Powhatan extends an offer for Smith to dwell among the nation, and he is also granted leave "to [his] own people." Smith says he can be trusted to go free "because [he] fear[s] not death – as [Powhatan has] seen. / A brave man lies not," he adds (92). Yet, Pocahontas is not offered this same trust. She is allowed neither freedom nor even the luxury of living peacefully amongst the colonists.
[19] Through these captivities, Owen subtlety perpetuates the image of American Indians as inherently good people who are truthful, generous, and trusting. The play ultimately glorifies how the Powhatan Nation was, at that time, virtually untouched by Western regimes. It is, therefore, a classic representation of noble savagery. Owen's depiction serves as his explanation of why their society, like so many other American Indian nations in the United States, was easily overcome by the English. Powhatan's willingness to treat Smith humanely becomes the American Indians' ultimate downfall. While current scholars view the image of the noble savage as utterly racist, at the time Owen wrote its depiction was sympathetic towards American Indians and their struggle against westward expansion. At the same time it offers an apt backdrop for the play's commentary on Jacksonian politics involving the "Indian Question."
[20] It is now believed that nearly 45,000 American Indians were systematically removed from their native lands during Andrew Jackson's presidential administration, which ended March 4, 1837. The Indian Removal Act, signed into law by 1830, made it possible for the United States' government to purchase tribal lands along the eastern coast, and, in return, give American Indian nations new land, then outside of the U.S. national border (Andrew). Owen, seeing Jackson's actions as unjust, wrote his feelings into his play. For example, Utta, a counselor to Powhatan, is presented as a sort of mystic – relating events in the play to events at the time of Owen's writing. He begins by offering a warning to the king before violence breaks out between their nation and Jamestown, as if sensing conflicts of the 1830s between eastern American Indian nations and the United States. "These Longknives," he says, "Will be our foes [until] we are left / Without [hunting grounds] or land or food" (80). Though Powhatan thinks there is enough of all three for his nation and the English, Utta believes otherwise. "One deer is food enough / For a starved wolf; but, once among the herd, / He will kill twenty," he disagrees (80). Though brief, Utta's advice is far-reaching in the play, in the Pocahontas myth (no matter who tells it), and in the story of American Indians across the United States.
[21] Relations, whether between Utta and the English, Pocahontas and Rolfe, or even Jackson and the entire American Indian population, were based on trust. With language presenting a major barrier in communication, having faith in one another was the only way to make good of intercultural relations. Owen includes this passage to make a point of President Jackson's misuse of the American Indian's trust. The irony of Utta's statement is, of course, that when Owen wrote his play American Indians already were without land and food. The consequences of trust are echoed throughout the entire Pocahontas myth. Most prevalent, however, is how the English, like Smith and Rolfe, were accepted into American Indian Nations only to reap the benefits for themselves. In Owen's play, this irony takes form in Rolfe's winning Pocahontas's "love" (143). In general, though, it was Jackson who took native lands for economic and political gains. Either way, the American Indians are used and abused. Pocahontas dies on a trip back to the America after visiting England, an incident notably absent from Owen's play. In that same respect, displaced nations of the east coast were separated from their homeland -- many by death -- never to return, killing many on the journey.
[22] After its publication in October 1837 under the pseudonym "A Citizen of the West," (Owen and his publishers feared that Owen's radical political opinions would interfere with the play's reception), the piece was received rather warmly. Its Shakespearean style was most notably praised by New York Daily Express editor James Brooks (Leopold 135, 137). As an unlucky fate would have it, however, Owen's identity as the playwright was eventually discovered after productions of the piece began. Consequently, initial praise turned into partisan dissections of Owen's intended message. Aside from critics picking apart the play's commentaries on women, capitalism, and colonialism, the piece was a theatrical disaster. It opened professionally on February 8, 1838, at New York City's Park Theater but failed to please audiences or critics, who found its message somber and verses dull (Abrams 129). According to Owen's biographer Richard William Leopold, the play "was damned by bad acting and worse stage management." An amateur troop, however, began touring the production across Indiana in 1839, taking it to Indianapolis, Logansport, and Fort Wayne, but without success (Leopold 138). By all known accounts it has not been produced since. Regardless, today's critics still praise the play for its critique of relevant social issues for its time – a trend that would continue and expand in Pocahontas narratives of the 1840s (Abrams 130).
[23] One of the most fascinating and revolutionary aspects of the play, in theory at least, is Owen's attempt to remain historically accurate throughout his rendition. "Every principal event represented or alluded to . . . occurred . . . with very little variation as here set down," Owen says at the outset of his play. Historical accounts and dramas, however, are not produced under the same narrative guidelines. The former depends on the presentation of fact while the latter takes liberties with its subject. Yet, in his "Introductory Essay" Owen points out "both [the Historian and Novelist] may be accurate, or both may be inaccurate" (12). The real question then remains who "has succeeded in conveying . . . the more correct . . . and the more vivid and attractive picture, of that which [history and novel] seek to place before us" (12). Owen is careful neither to recognize nor to discredit the accuracy of John Smith's A True Relation of Virginia. He refers to it once, when he asserts his play is "strictly historical . . . if Smith's own history can be trusted" (21). For the Historical Novelist, a lens through which Owen sees himself, "records of former times" must be combined with the writer's "imagination" so writers (and readers) may "sojourn in the past" (13). In essence, recording one's history proves problematic for Owen in the 1830s just as it does for Custalow and Daniel in the 2000s -- the only difference being Owen's frankness about his meddling hand while Custalow and Daniel hold no reservations in stating the validity of their questionable account. Either way, having a stake in the history one records leads to a skewed depiction of reality. In defining his position as both recorder of fact and creator of narrative in his "Introductory Essay," Owen's personal agenda becomes the focus of his Pocahontas account, therefore overshadowing any accuracy his play may include.
[24] Though Owen cautiously brings attention to the validity of Smith's narrative, Owen takes liberties with the ordering of events and their inclusion (or lack thereof) in the text altogether – an act admittedly done for the increased enjoyment of audiences. "I have preferred making what I could out of the genuine materials before me; rather at [the] expense [of] chances of popularity," he remarks. One may easily argue, however, that Smith did the same. In any case, according to Owen, "an adherence to the spirit of this unity of time seems […] very desirable in a Drama" (22). Nonetheless, spirit fails to constitute accuracy. Thus, Pocahontas's liberal "take" on the status of women, the recurring representation of American Indians as a dignified, albeit dying people, and the dissection of race relations in Jacksonian America lend themselves to the opinions of Owen rather than to the historical record. By creatively dissecting his way around labeling the piece mere fabrication in his "Introductory Essay," Pocahontas: A Historical Drama dangerously contributes to the historical record instead of claiming its own biased, fictional qualities.
[25] Despite Owen's inability to captivate audiences and his questionable effort in writing a factual account of early Jamestown, Pocahontas: A Historical Drama still captures the essence of its author. Owen must first be applauded for his success in taking Pocahontas, a relatively minor character from Smith's A True Relation of Virginia, and making her the star of his production. That in itself, regardless of the play's discussion of gender equality, is cause for feminist praise. Owen should also be applauded for using the play to launch his political agenda. As Leopold says, "The most significant fact of all was that Pocahontas attracted enough attention to secure for its author a literary reputation, often exaggerated to be sure, at the very same time he was embarking upon a career of public service" (131). In other words, Owen's timing was no fluke. What better way to get conversations about the fight towards equality going than to cause a literary uproar first? More specifically, though, Owen preceded the sentiments of Dr. Wayland at Madison University. In order to change the way Americans saw women and minorities in his own time, Owen looked to regional roots. The stories of early Jamestown helped him formulate a play from progressive ideas and launch a career that would spearhead universal equality at the legislative level. Not all renditions of the Pocahontas legend stand the test of time, but perhaps not all are meant to. Still, it is in these lost stories that one must discover the unseen effects of their production. Only then is it possible to understand the true repercussions of these myths.
Works Cited
Abrams, Ann Uhry. The Pilgrims and Pocahontas: Rival Myths of American Origin. Boulder: Westview Press, 1999.
"Andrew Jackson." American Presidents. 2006. 4 April 2009 <http://www.american-presidents.com/andrew-jackson>.
Custalow, Linwood, and Angela L. Daniel. The True Story of Pocahontas: The Other Side of History. Goldon: Fulcrum Publishing, 2007.
Leopold, Richard William. Robert Dale Owen – A Biography. London: Oxford UP, 1940.
Owen, Robert Dale. Pocahontas: A Historical Drama. New York: George Dearborn, 1837.
Simkin, John. "Robert Dale Owen." Spartacus International. 2003. 9 March 2009 <http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/USASowen.htm>.
Tilton, Robert S. Pocahontas: The Evolution of an American Narrative. New York: Cambridge UP, 2000.
Wayland, John W. How to Teach American History. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1914.