Cate of the Lost Colony (24 page)

Chapter 40

A Decision Is Made

I
t had been almost a year since Graham and Mika’s wedding. Since then we had lived, for the most part, peaceably among the Croatoan. There was one crisis during the winter, when a hunting party of Indians and Englishmen had gone to the mainland. Five of our men, discontented by the lack of marriageable women, had gone away on their own, stealing all the game. The theft of the meat left the Croatoan feeling betrayed, with some calling for us to be expelled from their village. Eventually Manteo succeeded in calming them.

This incident had damaged Graham’s reputation among his new brothers, and he released his humiliation upon us. “Do you not understand what is at stake here?” he demanded. “What would become of us if the Croatoan turned against us?”

We were twelve men, seven women, and six children remaining. No one defended the thieves. Like Graham, we were ashamed of them.

“Anyone who is not satisfied must leave now,” he said. “If you stay only to wreck our relationship with Weyawinga’s people, no mercy will be shown you.”

No one left. No one even stirred as if to leave. By an unspoken agreement, we had cast our lot with the Indians.

Jane and Tameoc now lived on Croatoan Island and she and Mika and I were the closest of friends. Alice was learning the Indians’ healing arts and could identify every edible and medicinal plant on the island. Takiwa had taken a husband and Betty was expecting another baby. Ambrose had built a lathe out of a sapling and rope and spent hours turning out stools and tables and other useful implements. Jones tilled his field and benefitted from the advice of Takiwa’s husband, his neighbor. For the first time in three years, rainfall had been plentiful and we could expect an abundant harvest.

I had my own house in the village. On the outside it resembled a loaf of bread and on the inside, with its poles bent overhead, an arbor. On the walls hung storage baskets I had made myself. I could raise the mats to allow fresh air to flow through, and the bed I shared with Virginia was more soft and warm than any mattress I had ever slept on. Alice and her little son were also part of my household. We cooked our meals outdoors on a common hearth lined with bricks.

Weyawinga had appointed Graham and Jones to her council, and they and Manteo often asked my advice on matters that concerned the general welfare. From time to time I would catch Manteo regarding me with a look of satisfaction that puzzled me. Whenever I was near him, I remembered what it had been like to dance with him and my face would become flushed. I thought of his fingers touching my lips and my insides seemed to melt like wax.

“It is love,” said Jane Pierce, noting my confusion. “I recognize all the signs.”

I knew that Manteo, as the son of a weroance, was like a prince and would no doubt marry a princess from another village to secure an alliance. He was too great for me, just as Sir Walter had been. I denied to Jane that it was love I felt. It was only a kind of weakness that came over me from time to time.

“I respect Manteo. I do not wish to be married to him, for I have decided no man will rule me.” Eleanor and I used to laugh when I said this.

“I would not expect you, of all people, to be ashamed of loving an Indian,” Jane replied, seeming offended.

But shame was not the matter. It was a deeper fear. What I knew of love was that it liked to fill me with longing, then leave me empty.

The day the English ships appeared was one that otherwise followed the peaceful pattern of our new lives. Jane and I were tearing apart
pemminaw
grass to make a thread as fine as flax, while Jane and Tameoc’s baby slept in a basket. Georgie Howe kicked a ball to entertain Virginia, who was now three years old. I was glad she was growing into such a sturdy child. Even without her parents she was happy. Around midday Tameoc, who had gone out earlier to dig for oysters, ran into the village shouting for Manteo and waving his hands. I heard the words “
great canoe.
”

Jane’s hand went to her throat. “No, it cannot be,” she whispered.

Leaving Virginia with Georgie, I followed Manteo and the others to the top of a sandy knoll. As we stared at the sea, three vessels took on distinct shapes, resembling the tiny ships that dotted the maps in Sir Walter’s library.

Why did the men not act? I wondered if we should start a brush fire, so the smoke would rise and signal the ships. I glanced at Tameoc, whose mouth was set in a grim line. Of course he did not want the ships to come and take Jane away.

Graham finally broke the silence. “The biggest ship looks like a Spanish galleon. And the two smaller ones are English merchant vessels, I think.”

“The English ships have taken the Spanish one!” Jones said in a tone of triumph. “Let us signal them.”

“No!” I said. “What if the galleon has captured the others and now sails for Roanoke Island?” The arrival of the Spanish had been one of our greatest fears while we lived at Fort Ralegh. We were fortunate to have left there.

“I cannot make out their flags without a glass,” said Graham, squinting. “But they are bound northward, not for this shore.”

“We could sail the shallop up the sound and intercept the ships at Hatorask,” said Jones.

“And make ourselves known to them?” said Graham. “That is hardly wise. Manteo, what do you think?”

With a solemn, almost troubled look Manteo gazed out to sea, where the ships seemed all but motionless. Then he said, “It is a matter for the council to discuss.”

Meeting without delay, Weyawinga and her advisers decided to spy on the ships and report if they were bound for Roanoke Island. Graham and Tameoc set out with eight men, paddling their canoe so swiftly it resembled a seabird skimming the water.

When we left Roanoke Island, rescue had seemed impossible. Now with the appearance of the ships everything had changed. Three days of intense speculation followed while we awaited the canoe’s return. Hope alternated with uncertainty. Were the English or the Spanish in command of the ships? And if the latter, would they occupy the deserted fort or continue onward?

Ambrose Vickers was convinced we were in danger. “The Spanish will force the English captains to take them to Roanoke Island, and they’ll know at once we came here.” He looked accusingly at me, for I was the one who had made him carve the letters in the tree. “For our safety we ought to go to the mainland and hide.”

The soldiers were of the opinion that we could fight the Spanish with the help of the Croatoan.

“And what if they are English ships come to our aid?” Alice Chapman asked. “Would we leave here and go with them? Cate, will you take Virginia back to England to live with her grandfather?”

I did not want to face that terrible choice. “Let us wait until we know more,” I said.

That night Mika came to my house and told me stories about Algon the hunter, the great Ahone, and Rabbit the trickster. She had a round belly; before the harvest time she would bear a child. Graham, if given the chance, would not go back to England, I knew. He had laid his love for Anne to rest and found a new one.

“
Do not go away, my friend
,” Mika said. “
I dreamed of a canoe swallowed by the waves. You must not be on it. I want you to stay here.
”

When the men returned, Graham reported that the ships all flew the royal standard of Elizabeth and were sailing for Roanoke. Their purpose could only be to find us.

Jones shook his head. “After three years? I can scarcely believe it.”

“Think of the stores of food! The new cloth!” said Alice, smiling.

“The armaments and tools and hardware,” said Ambrose, his fear gone.

Jones wondered aloud what we had all been thinking, “Could it be John White at last?” Hopes, so long submerged, rose to the surface and broke like waves over us.

Betty’s eyes shone. “Perhaps my cousin and his family have come at last. I wrote to them three years ago. Oh, to think of new people joining us!”

The excitement began to distress Georgie, who rocked back and forth saying, “Is Papa coming back? Is my papa on the ship?”

Graham, when he finally spoke, was harsh. “Do you think any of our countrymen would choose to live as we do now? Would they wear hides and moccasins, delve in the dirt and hunt with arrows, sleep on animal pelts, and eat roots?”

He swept his arm in a wide arc encompassing our entire settlement within the Croatoan village. It was even more rustic than Roanoke had been. But it was now home.

Ambrose stroked his chin gravely. “I think they will judge our failures, for we have not built a civil society or brought the true religion to the natives.”

“Worse than that,” said Graham. “We have abandoned our posts at Fort Ralegh. They’ll say we’ve committed treason—killed the assistants so we could rule ourselves. We’ll be taken back to England and hanged,” he concluded darkly.

“That is impossible!” Jones said. “We are innocent.”

“No one will hang me,” said Georgie’s aunt. “Even so, I am too old to cross the seas again.”

I had finally sorted out my own thoughts. “Even if we could return to England without penalty,” I said, “how would we live there? Did you not invest all of your livelihood in this enterprise? Do you want to go back empty-handed? Most of us have no kin left, for they came here with us.”

I saw the sadness in their eyes as they thought about those who were lost, and the disappointment at their own failure to become rich. My words began to flow as if from a well within me.

“We have nothing to take back, but everything if we stay here. We have one another and new kin among the Croatoan. Have we wanted for food or feared for our lives since we came here? Or given anyone cause to hate us?”

“But what if the ships have brought enough supplies and settlers for an entire village?” said one of the soldiers. “We could rebuild at Roanoke or go to Chesapeake and join Bailey.”

“The soil at Roanoke is too thin. With more people to feed, we would only be hungry again,” said Jones.

“At Chesapeake we face unknown dangers,” I said. “Even if Roger Bailey is by some chance still alive, nothing on earth could induce me to put myself under his governance.”

“I agree. That tyrant has betrayed us more than once,” said Ambrose bitterly.

“Weyawinga is a benevolent weroance, like our own Elizabeth,” said Graham. “Here we have a voice at her councils; we are partners in government. That will never happen in England. Why, even women are permitted to speak and give advice.”

“Indeed, who can keep them quiet?” grumbled Ambrose, drawing laughter.

“I did not favor coming to Croatoan Island, but now I deem it best to stay,” admitted Jones with a sigh. “For I doubt that the ships’ arrival, though we have long desired it, bodes well for us.”

Slowly the tide was turning. One by one we came to see that our best chance of a secure and happy future lay with the Croatoan. Manteo and Weyawinga were brought in to hear our consensus. Weyawinga looked pleased.

“If the English newcomers use force against us, will your warriors join us in battle?” Graham asked.

“
Yes
,” Weyawinga said. “
The white men shall not set their feet on this island if they offer harm to even one person here.
”

I was suddenly alarmed. I thought the question had been whether we desired to depart with the English. Now it was how far we would go to avoid being taken away by them. Of course our decision had consequences—possibly dangerous ones. But had we just determined to take up arms against the queen’s envoy?

Whether such an act of rebellion succeeded or failed, it would end forever any possibility of our returning to England.

Chapter 41

From the Papers of Sir Walter Ralegh

Narrative of a Voyage to Virginia.

On the 19
th
of August, 1590, the
Hopewell
bore SW from Hatorask, keeping to the deepest waters between the mainland and the outer islands.

Capt. Cooke dropped anchor NW of the isle of Croatoan, deeming it unsafe to navigate the unfamiliar sound at night. The next morning, by some misfortune, a cable broke at the capstan and the anchor was lost. The ship nearly ran against the rocks before the spare anchor—our last—found its purchase. The shaken Cooke wanted to abandon our plan to land on Croatoan. Was it not enough, he said, to know the colonists had gone there? But White and I demanded he carry on with the landing.

Do I wish we had heeded Cooke and never set foot upon Croatoan Island? Alas, my pen rushes ahead with my thoughts when it is obliged to relate events in their turn.

Coming within sight of the northern tip of the isle we began to search for a landing place and signs of habitation. It was a long, low island covered in brush and pine trees, with grassy shallows extending far into the sound. Thousands of birds occupied the sandbars, their cries and the flapping of their wings loud enough to raise a dead man.

As the ship’s boats were being lowered into the water, White and I had a disagreement. I preferred to go ashore with thirty men in the event the colonists were being held against their will and we would have to fight for their release. White argued that taking so many men would cause the natives to mistake our purpose.

“And what is our purpose now?” I asked, no longer certain since finding the fort deserted.

“Simply … to find them,” he answered. (Truly, he was unable to think beyond the reunion he had so long anticipated.) And to that end he wanted only the two of us to go ashore, saying, “In the eyes of the Indians we bring disease and death. A large party will only antagonize them.”

I thought the Indians might easily capture two men, but I did not want to seem fearful. So while we labored at the oars of the landing boat, I hoped Manteo would be the one to welcome us, for he would recognize John White. I was still disguised in my pirate’s garb.

Three well-formed warriors met us on the shore and led us to a village that bore only a passing resemblance to the ones I had seen in drawings. Alongside the savage huts stood motley houses made of timber and wattle, with reed mats over the windows and doorways. Amidst them I saw a brick oven and a frame piled with fish over a smoking pit. These were tended by a native woman whose naked breasts drew my startled eyes. I confess I noticed little else about her. I did observe one of the savages wearing a waist-belt that had once been part of a doublet and others carrying English knives. It was as if the pieces of an Indian settlement and an English town had been thrown together by the hand of some careless god.

Though it was evidently in need of a civilizing hand, I felt no sense of mastery upon entering this village that was part of Virginia and hence mine to govern. I began to wish I had arrived with greater ceremony and in finer clothing. It also made me uneasy not to see my countrymen, despite evidence of their presence. Would Lady Catherine show herself? Having been disappointed at Roanoke Island, I was almost afraid to hope. And to be truthful, my immediate concern was statecraft, not love.

“We must demand to see Ananias and the other assistants before we offer any gifts,” I said to White. We had with us pipes made from fine wood and ivory.

He gave me a sharp look. “Let me be the one to speak to them,” he said. I know he thought me proud and precipitous, while I thought him soft and timid. But I let him take the lead because of his experience.

Finally we spotted Manteo approaching us. Three years had brought him to the full height and strength of manhood, giving him broad shoulders and an assured stance. He and White greeted each other warmly, and Manteo led us to a canopy woven of reeds and hung with feathers and furs. There, in an English armchair with a high, carved back, sat a woman neither young nor old, festooned with strands of beads and copper and glistening shells. This was their queen! Covering her breasts was a bib fashioned from pieces of gold braid, velvet, and glass beads. Pearls hung at her ears and a woven diadem surrounded her head. She, like the surroundings, was a mixture of elements strange to me and yet familiar. Overcome by an unexpected sense of reverence, I knelt to this chief as I would have to my own mistress Elizabeth.

John White parleyed with her, then relayed their conversation to me. “Weyawinga says we bring strong blood to the Croatoan … The gods are pleased with Manteo for bringing good fortune … When two fields of maize are planted beside each other, they will produce new stalks with stronger and sweeter kernels.”

I was not interested in hearing Manteo praised or an allegory about plants. I told White to ask the queen where our countrymen were.

Just then three men appeared, dressed in trousers pieced together from animal skins. Their bare chests were browned, though not so tawny as Manteo’s skin, and their hair fell below their shoulders. But their faces revealed them to be Englishmen, especially the one half covered with a red beard. I stared at them in astonishment.

John White leapt to his feet. “Ambrose Vickers? Griffen Jones and … Thomas Graham?” His voice rose with emotion as he greeted the men. I had not recognized the bearded fellow as Lady Anne’s unfortunate lover. And Vickers, was he not the malcontent White had described?

The men were restrained in their welcome of John White, which made me indignant. Why were they not more pleased to see us? Perhaps they were compelled to remain on Croatoan Island and thus not free to express their joy.

Judging it time for me to abandon my disguise, I announced myself as Sir Walter Ralegh, governor of Virginia, and greeted all parties on Her Majesty’s behalf. Their response was as puzzling as everything else on this island. Manteo made no gesture of submission such as a lord should make to the queen’s envoy. Had he grown proud and forgotten his place? As for my countrymen, they regarded me with doubt and even suspicion—perhaps because of my rough clothing.

“I know you, Sir Walter,” said Graham, nonplussed by my declaration. “Tell us, why did you wait so long before coming? And what is your purpose here now?” He spoke as if he were the one in authority.

Was all degree and dignity here rubbed out? I would ask the questions, not he! I demanded to speak to the assistants and Graham answered that none remained. How many of the colonists were left? Only twenty-six, the rest having died, disappeared, fled with the pinnace, or gone to Chesapeake and not returned.

Upon hearing that his daughter and son-in-law had perished, White began to weep and was incapable of speech.

I could not believe nearly a hundred colonists had been lost and wondered aloud if Vickers and the others had conspired against them. “Did you not, Master Vickers, often disagree with Governor White and encourage the others to flout his authority?” I asked. “Was there a conspiracy to expel him from your midst?”

Vickers raised his hand and made a fist, thought the better of it, and said, “My judgment was poor, Sir Walter, but I have made amends by more suffering than you can imagine.”

“That does not undo your insubordination,” I replied. “Sedition is treason.”

“Arrest me then,” he challenged, knowing I would not risk drawing my pistol in this assembly. Again I wished John White and I had not come alone. I would never have ventured into the savage parts of Ireland so defenseless.

“We were the faithful ones. We were the ones betrayed by Roger Bailey,” said Graham angrily. “Had Manteo not offered this refuge, we would be dead from starvation or slain by our enemies.”

Was Graham lying? Finding the truth, I realized, would be as difficult as trying to walk on shifting sand. I demanded of their queen, “Bring out the others where I may see them and test what you say.”

Manteo translated, the queen gave a sign, and twelve men and boys stepped forward from the crowd that had gathered. They were also dressed like natives, a few wearing shirts or loose trousers made of cheap homespun.

I asked them, “Are you captives here? Speak, I charge you.”

Each one testified he had come to Croatoan freely.

“Then you are free to leave, one and all. We will sail to Chesapeake and find those who settled there. While you failed to hold Roanoke Island, perhaps
they
have fulfilled my instruction and founded the city of Ralegh,” I said, not sparing my tone of rebuke. “We will weigh your claims against theirs and see justice done.”

Graham stepped forward from the others. “No, Sir Walter, we will not leave. We are content here.”

Beholding these motley men and boys, half English and half savage, fury surged in me like the wave that had capsized Edward Spicer’s boat.

“Do you defy every man sent to govern you? Are you loyal Englishmen, or have you become savages in your inward selves, too?”

“Sir Walter, peace,” said John White wearily. “Understand that this land leaves no man unchanged. It is not England and it never will be.”

“England has abandoned us, while the Croatoan have welcomed us,” said Graham. “I have taken a wife here, who is about to bear me a son, God willing.”

I stared at him, ashamed on his behalf, but I reasoned it would take a holy man indeed to resist a half-clothed woman.

“Where are the women—if any of them remain?” I asked. Graham said they had hidden themselves for safety, along with the children.

“Do they dress like savages, too?” I asked, distaste battling with desire at the thought of my Catherine wearing skins, her long hair falling over her shoulders. I had dreamed such a scene once, so lifelike that it roused me from sleep. Was it possible such a dream might now be realized?

“Are there any small children?” asked John White.

“Your granddaughter is well,” said Vickers. “She is being raised by Lady Cate.”

“Lady Catherine Archer?” I heard my voice rise with hope.

“She is Cate now,” said Graham coldly. “She is much changed.”

“I would know her anywhere. Tell me where she waits.”

But Graham would not reply. I glanced around, hoping to spy where she was hiding. My gaze fell on Manteo, who stood with all his muscles tense, like a lynx about to leap.

Then I knew with a bitter certainty the reason why Catherine hid herself from me. It was a blow I had not foreseen, yet one I deserved.

“Has she found a husband then?” I asked, trying to sound careless.

“No.” Manteo’s simple denial was sharp with warning.

Yet my hopes soared again. Catherine had no one to bind her to this place. She had kept herself free and waited for me.

“Then I will find her,” I said.