This novel first came to my attention years ago, but it remained firmly on my TBR shelf until I started reading up on Pocahontas online a few weeks back and kept seeing it referenced. After putting in a few late nights to finish the audiobook, I can see why. This is an incredibly well-written, detailed history of America’s earliest days and the people who struggled to keep it afloat. The colonial era is one that many writers shy away from, not wanting to wade into the history of how the colonists treated Native Americans or, if they do, how the natives treated them in turn. David A. Price is willing to do both, fully regaling the many gory details of war and conquest in the New World (and the Old World, and at sea). But much like war histories, Love and Hate in Jamestown reveals the duality of these stories that we, in a seemingly more enlightened age, don’t want to admit is true: that they are as enthralling as they are terrifying. Half of the book reads like an adventure novel, with John Smith—not the dreamboat of Disney cartoons, but a short, pugnacious, disaster-prone self-made man—acting as the main character, always narrowly escaping death while encountering a host of colorful and unpredictable characters.
So why did I waver between giving this three and four stars then? If you’ve read the other reviews, you’ll already know the main complaints. As engaging as the first two-thirds of the book are, once Pocahontas leaves for London, the story nose-dives, becoming less of a narrative and more of a summary of what happened next. This is particularly noticeable between the years after her untimely death in 1617 and the Indian Massacre of 1622. Neither she nor John Smith are in Jamestown by that point, but the colony is booming in size. Yet Price does little to familiarize his readers with the newcomers, so when the massacre arrives—taking up only half of a chapter—it reads more like an encyclopedia entry than a narrative history. Price is largely uninterested in the natives outside of Pocahontas and her father, Chief Powhatan (a formidable leader and standout figure), and he seems to resent all the colonists who aren’t John Smith, aside from the preacher who converts Pocahontas to Christianity, and her husband, John Rolfe (and even then only until he and Smith end up in the same room together and we need to be reminded who the real alpha dog is).
As other reviews have noted, Price has a massive man-crush on Smith, and it’s understandable, to a certain point. The man had a truly fascinating life, and he was an early example of the American ideals of self-determination and personal ambition. Having been born to a farming family, he had to overcome England’s repressive class system, as well as the other limitations placed on him because of financial straits. Price is perhaps a bit too enamored with the man, however, given his persistent characterization as the only person in Jamestown with a brain, and Price’s willingness to accept his record of events. There’s no denying that Smith formed a meaningful bond with young Pocahontas, but his story of her dramatically saving him from execution has come under suspicion in the centuries since. Price provides an argument for why he believes Smith’s telling, but he ignores Smith’s ongoing pattern of stretching the truth (albeit usually as a means of survival) that we see time and again throughout the book. Price is insistent that there was never anything romantic between them—a fact that virtually all historians agree with—yet he later claims that young Pocahontas warned Smith of an impending ambush because she had fallen for the much older man (Smith, by contrast, is depicted as somewhat asexual).
Because of how long ago this was (and because of the lack of written correspondence on Pocahontas’ part), historians must often make their own interpretation of what happened. Price does this as well, although there were a few moments where I would have liked to see more introspection. When Pocahontas and Smith meet again in London after the false reports of his death, Pocahontas is noticeably frosty to her old friend, saying he’s a liar like all the English. This is noteworthy, given how Price described the earlier years that she lived among the colonists with Rolfe as very happy, and soon after claims that she would have preferred to stay in England rather than return to Virginia. Did she like living with her nuclear family, but distrusted her neighbors? If so, why would she want to stay in England? Or was this just another of John Smith’s tall tales?
We see more of this with Pocahontas' marriage to John Rolfe, of which we learn disappointingly little. Their union helped establish peace between the colonists and the natives, and perhaps it is because of that tranquility that almost nothing of note is mentioned about those years. Rolfe is a somewhat elusive figure, a rare example of a historical man who's less well-known than his wife. This may have changed slightly in the twenty years since this book was published. For instance, Price claims that Rolfe did not meet King James alongside his wife because of James' opposition to the tobacco industry, but many historians now say that the British aristocracy was scandalized by an Indian princess marrying a "commoner" like Rolfe. Price doesn't seem quite certain whether Rolfe was closer to a gentleman or a laborer, the two main factions within early Jamestown, but this would seem to indicate the latter.
Moreover, Price does a bit of a 180 on Rolfe; for most of the book, he's characterized as a kind, hard-working, and devoted husband whose life had been marred by tragedy. Then in the last quarter of the book, Price instead paints him as callous and cowardly. Rolfe's decision to leave his son in England and return alone to Virginia is a hard one for a modern reader to understand. Most historians don't appear to view this as particularly irrational, however, and none of the Powhatans seemed to take issue with it at the time either, despite the boy being Pocahontas' only child. With that in mind, I expected Price to present a rationale for this decision, as he did time and again for Smith whenever he would do something foolhardy. Instead, he claims that Rolfe simply cared more about making money back in Virginia than he did for his son. Is that really all it was? Perhaps. But it doesn't mesh with the way he was characterized up until then, and once again I felt like Price should have dug a little deeper to better understand his subjects.
On the flip side, there were some truly fascinating bits of information included that I had never read before. Price discusses the arrival of the first black captives in American in 1619, but then puts forth the theory that they were technically indentured servants, with chattel slavery as we understand it now not being introduced until the 1640s. The English considered Native Americans "savage" because they weren't Christian, not because of their race or lifestyle; they actually thought that their darker skin tone was the result of body paint. After the 1622 massacre, the colonists got their revenge by tricking several prominent Powhatans into drinking poison. Powhatan chiefs were polygamous, and only stayed married to a woman until she bore him a child. Afterwards, the marriage was dissolved and the mother was only allowed to stay with the child until it reached a certain age, before being cast out of the tribe completely. Price speculates that this is what really happened to Pocahontas' mother, rather than her dying in childbirth, as is traditionally believed. He even entertains the theory that Pocahontas was married to a fellow Powhatan in her early-teens, whom he believes may have divorced her, rather than having died in battle.
Given that I was listening to the audiobook, I was unable to look at Price's sources, but it was small details like these that made (most of) Love and Hate in Jamestown so enjoyable to read. It also left me wanting to know so much more. How did the next generation of Virginians fare, now that they were recruiting farmers and laborers in place of the gentry? If one marriage between a native woman and an English man led to years of peace, why weren't there more of them? What became of the young boys who served as translators between the English and Powhatans? We know that European diseases proved lethal to the Native American population, so why did we see the opposite here, with the colonists frequently succumbing to disease while the Powhatans were largely unharmed? Most of all, how did the Native Americans change the colonists? We know what was taken from the native population, but historians have typically paid less attention to the influence they had on their new neighbors, beyond agriculture. Just in this book alone, we see how Christians and polytheists were required to learn to live side-by-side rather than resort to a religious war. It's so hard to get a firm reading on events from more than 400 years ago, but luckily, new research is always underway. I'll keep reading, and I look forward to seeing what else is uncovered in the years to come. (Note: I have since found the answers to some of these questions in books by Camilla Townsend, Helen C. Rountree, and Karen Kupperman.)