Cate of the Lost Colony (11 page)

Chapter 18

Dangers and Discoveries

O
n the eighth of May, the winds turned favorable and Fernandes decided to sail. The gunports were sealed for the voyage, leaving the hold dark and smelling of tar. Ten men strained like oxen against the bars of the capstan, turning it slowly to lift the anchor. The sails were unfurled and caught the wind, flapping like the wings of a mythical dragon. All the noises were new and sounded strange from belowdecks: waves slapping the hull, the ship creaking in all her seams, and seamen shouting in a language of their own. The ship rolled from side to side, sometimes with a gentle motion, sometimes lurching violently. Unable to quell my sickness, I retched into a common bucket. The hold stank of vomit and waste. I lifted my face to the hatch, trying to breathe fresh air. When it rained, the water leaked through the canvas cover and soaked our skimpy pallet.

We were in such misery that John White allowed us to come onto the deck in small numbers, despite the objection of Fernandes. The pilot glared at the women from under his dark brows and shouted oaths at any man unfortunate enough to be in the way of a crew member. Soon the sickness abated as we became accustomed to the pitching of the ship.

On the twenty-second of June we anchored at the island of Santa Cruz, where John White would purchase sheep, plants, and salt for the colony. For the first time in six weeks I stepped on land, but could barely stand upright because of the weakness in my legs. On the sand was a turtle of immense proportions, its claws bigger than a man’s hand. The slow creature was no match for the soldiers, who killed it at once, hungry for the meat. Its blood stained the white sand.

The swift birds fared better. Their feathers flashed red, yellow, and green as they darted, squawking, among the trees. John White called them parrots, and the tree with purple blossoms a
lignum vitae
. The men went off in search of fresh water while the women bathed and washed clothing. The boy Edmund turned cartwheels and dug in the sand while his mother, Betty Vickers, tried not to smile. She was probably a Puritan, with her plain clothing and prayer book always at hand. The governor’s daughter, Eleanor, let her thick golden hair down and washed it in a bucket of salt water. Despite the weeks of deprivation, her belly had grown since we first boarded the ship.

A sweet scent floated upon the air, its source a green, applelike fruit. The children eagerly collected these, as we had not tasted fresh fruit in many weeks. Eleanor threw her damp hair over her shoulders and accepted one from little Edmund, who sniffed his own uncertainly.

Moments later I heard Eleanor cry out, “My lips! My mouth! They are on fire!”

At once her tongue began to swell up. She put her hands to her belly, and I could see terror in her eyes.

Dimly I remembered once eating a leaf of cow parsley and my mother trying to get me to vomit. I showed Eleanor how to put her fingers in her throat until the contents of her stomach spewed out, and I held her head while she shuddered afterward.

Panic spread as more became sick. Edmund had swallowed the fruit and his face and hands were inflamed. “Not my son; oh God, don’t let him die!” Betty prayed, clasping him to her.

Hearing the cries, the men came running, their weapons ready. Manteo broke open the stem of a plant that oozed an oily salve, indicating it was to be spread on the inflamed skin.

Ambrose Vickers, Betty’s husband, began to complain. “Why didn’t John White warn us about that fruit? It is his duty to protect us.”

George Howe, one of White’s assistants, grabbed Vickers by the collar and hoisted him off his feet. “Shut your trap and fetch some water for these suffering folk.”

George’s son, the simple boy, had bitten into the fruit, but was unharmed.

“It was bad. I spit it out. It did not hurt me. It did not hurt Georgie Howe,” he said again and again, proud of himself. It was a strange relief, to see such a sturdy youth smiling amidst so much distress.

By the following afternoon, the effects of the poison had worn off. No one died, and Eleanor did not miscarry. John White cautioned us against eating anything he did not provide. He seemed surprised that we had been so reckless. But in this new place we were like children in need of a strict father, while John White seemed to be an indulgent one.

Eleanor was convinced I had saved her life and her unborn babe, and thus I acquired a friend.

“I know you must think it foolish of me to sail in my condition,” she said. Her cheeks and lips were still swollen from the poison. “But I love my father, and since my mother died, he has no one to take care of him. He came home from his first voyage nothing but bones. Were it not for me, he would spend all his time drawing and forget to eat.”

This admission did not increase my confidence in John White.

“How did you persuade your husband to make the journey?” I asked.

“It was not me, but five hundred acres of land that induced him. Few of these men would have left England were it not for the promise of land. And my father offered to make Ananias one of his assistants. They were granted coats of arms, so they are both gentlemen now.”

“And that makes you a gentlewoman,” I said.

She smiled. “I care nothing for titles. I only want my child to be safely born and thrive.”

“Virginia is fertile and the climate healthy. We should all thrive there,” I said.

I told Eleanor only a little about myself. I said that my parents were dead and I had served the queen, who granted my wish to see the New World and put me under her father’s protection. I admitted I knew Sir Walter and had often heard him describe his plans for the colony. It was not the full truth, but why should I admit to being disgraced? I was free to hide or reveal whatever I chose.

Eleanor seemed to be in awe of me. “I am so fortunate. You are like a sister to me already,” she said.

I was as pleased as she was.

Once Eleanor befriended me, the other women began to show me respect as well. They were hesitant to address me, perhaps because they did not know what to say to someone who had waited on a queen. I asked them not to call me Lady Catherine, but simply Cate. Still, I felt like a stranger among them, for they were all related or had grown up in the same parishes. Betty Vickers had lost two infants and a young child to the plague, leaving only ten-year-old Edmund. Her husband was a hardworking journeyman, but with little hope of advancement in the London guilds. Seeing the opportunity to become a master woodcrafter in the New World, he had sold all his family’s possessions to finance their voyage.

Not all the men on the voyage would become landowners in Virginia. Some were indentured servants who would work for their freedom. Many were soldiers paid to guard the colony. Besides myself, the other unmarried women were servants, except for one widow of independent means. The number of colonists traveling aboard the flagship, the flyboat, and the small pinnace was a hundred and fifteen, including seventeen women and eleven children.

Leaving Santa Cruz, where White failed to obtain sheep, plants, or salt, Fernandes sailed to the island named St. John. There we also encountered trouble. The men found freshwater, but they drank so much beer that nothing was gained. Three soldiers who were supposed to be watching for Spaniards were found imbibing. White had them whipped and chastised the others, but they were all too drunk to care.

The pinnace was already anchored at St. John. Among her passengers was a soldier who followed me with his eyes, which made me uneasy. Soldiers were generally rough and unsavory. He drew nearer and was about to speak when I said, “You are too bold. I do not wish to know you.”

“Lady Catherine, do you spurn an old friend?”

I peered at him. “Who are you?” There was something familiar in his stance. “Thomas Graham?” I said, incredulous. For he was no longer “the fool of fashion” as Dick Tarleton had once dubbed him. He had traded his slashed doublet for a common jerkin, and his face was covered with a reddish beard. He looked sturdy and vital.

“At your service.” He bowed. “Do you wonder why I am I here?”

I knew Graham had been almost penniless when the queen sent him from court. I also remembered how he had admired Ralegh’s treasure-laden ships docked along the Thames.

“You must be seeking your fortune like everyone else,” I replied. “Do you mean to settle in Virginia?”

Graham laughed. “I’ve no longing to live among savages. I will save my earnings, maybe look for gold, then return to England with the means to marry my Lady Anne.”

Swept with fresh regret, I said, “I’m sorry I could not help you and you had to become a soldier.”

“Lady Catherine, your intentions were the best, and I bear you no ill will.”

I nodded, grateful. “I call myself Cate now,” I said.

“Then, Lady Cate, do not be sorry for me. This is an adventure that puts me among the finest of men.” He gestured toward his companion. “Why, this fellow spent ten years at Colchester prison for murdering a farmer. I’m afraid to beat him at a game of dice!”

The man grinned but without mirth. “It was for stealin’ not killin’. But I didn’t do either.”

Then Graham grew serious. “My dear Cate, it is I who am sorry for
your
plight.”

“Do not speak of it, please,” I said in a low voice. “I do not wish anyone to know I was imprisoned like your dice-playing friend.”

Graham leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I will be discreet. But as we find ourselves in the same circumstance, we ought to be friends.”

“Being a woman, my circumstance is somewhat different and more perilous than yours,” I said, drawing back. “We are being observed, and I do not wish to be the subject of gossip.”

“Truly, reputation is as precious to a soldier as it is to a lady. Worth more than gold,” he said, bowing like a courtier. “I would be reputed the bravest man in the Americas; Anne will marry me even if I am penniless. Damn, even the queen will love me then.”

Despite myself I smiled. I decided Graham’s character was much improved by soldiering.

Just then a commotion broke out, and I saw the Irish seaman and his unwilling bunk mate sprawled on the ground. John White stood over them, his face pale with rage. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch the unfolding drama.

“I’ve had enough of your quarreling and insubordination!” White shouted. “I’m giving you a choice. You can take your flogging, or you can leave the company now and see how long you’ll last on this island.”

His threat was a dire one. Many of the mariners said the island was peopled by savages who stuck bones through their noses and ate the flesh of their enemies.

In reply, the Irishman spat on the captain’s shoes. White drew back his foot as if to kick him, but the Irishman was too quick, scrambling to his feet and fleeing into the brush. The other rogue followed him. Thus, without a word, they chose their fate.

The boatswain threw two bundles overboard and they were quickly plundered.

“See what I found in Darby’s sack!” cried a man, holding up two strands of beads with brass crosses dangling from them.

Murmurs went through the crowd, as everyone affirmed the Irishman was indeed a papist.

Roger Bailey, one of White’s assistants, laughed harshly. “We are well rid of that Catholic dog,” he said. But it was Bailey, with his sharp yellowish teeth, who resembled a dog,

Next to me, Graham shook his head. “It was unwise of Captain White to let them go,” he murmured. “He should have had them flogged and thrown into the bilge instead.”

I was surprised by his harshness, but set it down to a soldier’s love of discipline. Soon, however, I understood what he meant. The evidence of Darby’s religion and the presence of Spaniards in the islands led to rumors that the Irishman was a traitor.

“That fellow has been to Virginia before,” said Ambrose Vickers. “He knows where the fort is located. Why, for a little money, the villain would betray us to the Spaniards around here. We will never be safe on Roanoke Island.”

I found myself defending the seaman. “I do not think Darby was disloyal, even if he was a papist,” I said. “Perhaps he only brought the beads to have something to trade with the Indians.” Ambrose and the men looked at me in surprise, and I realized they were unused to having a woman—even a lady—speak in their company.

The next day the ships weighed anchor, leaving Darby and his bunk mate to their uncertain fates. The idea of conspiracy had been planted, making everyone sober and fearful.

To make matters worse, John White and the pilot argued. Their raised voices drifted down through the open hatch. Eleanor was concerned for her father, so together we crept up the ladder and onto the deck. The boatswain dared not admonish her because she was White’s daughter.

“We
must
land at Salinas Bay for livestock and salt,” said the captain, bursting from his cabin. “Or we will reach Roanoke without enough supplies to survive for long.”

Fernandes was at his heels. “At this time of year, the currents, the reefs! It is too great a risk to the ship.”

“This time of year,” said White, whirling around and stabbing his finger at the pilot’s nose, “you prefer to be on the high seas, for your own profit. But if you hasten this voyage and thus endanger my colonists, you will have Ralegh and the queen herself to answer to.”

Fernandes only laughed. “I tell you, we will find these goods in Hispaniola. I have a friend there.”

“I think your friends cannot be trusted,” White said, then strode to the ship’s rail and stood with his hands crossed over his chest.

It dismayed me to see our governor overmastered by his pilot. Our fortunes were dependent upon his. If he failed in his purpose, we would all be lost.

“You must speak to your father,” I said to Eleanor. “Fernandes considers his own interests. He does not care about the success of our colony.”

“I will,” whispered Eleanor. “When he is calmer.”

Soon we were sailing the northern coast of Hispaniola, which appeared like a distant tuft of moss, green and low. The ship did not go ashore as Fernandes promised. White did not order him to land, or if he did, the pilot ignored him. Thus we still lacked salt and livestock, and White remained grim. We encountered no Spanish vessels, and the islands disappeared from view on the sixth of July. Two weeks later, Hatorask, on the outer banks of Virginia, was sighted. Everyone scrambled to the decks, where there was great rejoicing. Eleanor and her husband embraced, the baby in her belly keeping them some distance apart. The hardiest soldiers wiped tears from their eyes.