Roanoke (The Keepers of the Ring) (27 page)

twenty-five

I
n the elaborately paneled drawing room of Sir Walter Raleigh’s royal apartments, John White used every glowing adjective he could remember as he described the progress of the Roanoke colony. He explained that the colony had disembarked at Roanoke only because of the treachery of Simon Fernandes, and the group had made plans to move northward in the spring to found the City of Raleigh in the Chesapeake region.

Sir Walter, as handsome and debonair as ever, stroked his manicured beard thoughtfully. “If the settlers are not on Roanoke Island when you arrive, how will you know where they have gone?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair.

“We have agreed upon a sign,” White answered, folding his hands in what he hoped was a casual gesture. “They will inscribe the location of their destination in a tree trunk, plainly visible. If they have left in distress, or under attack, they will also inscribe a Maltese cross upon the tree. When we return with the supplies, we will be able to reach the colonists in a matter of days.”

Raleigh sank back in his chair and rested his head on his hand. For a moment he neither spoke nor moved, a handsome statue resplendent in a doublet and hose of straw-colored satin and a cloak of gilded Spanish leather. Perfumed gloves lay across his knee; the perfect picture of refinement. But John White hoped that under Raleigh
’s polished exterior still beat the heart of an adventurer, someone who would take a risk for the planters on Roanoke.

“So what do you suggest we do, John White?” Raleigh finally said, his brown eyes shining with interest.

John tried to curb his eagerness. He was virtually bursting with information and news he wanted to impart, but one never, ever wanted Sir Walter to feel ordered about. “I propose to equip a pinnace with supplies and a group of new settlers, particularly those wives who wait in England to join their husbands,” White said, leaning gently forward. “The colony does need some provisions to insure a safe passage through the winter, so the pinnace should depart immediately. While the pinnace sails, we will outfit a major supply fleet of seven or eight ships to sail in the Spring. If Sir Richard Grenville would lead the fleet—”

“Why not Simon Fernandes?” Raleigh interrupted.

White made a face. “If you will read my journal, Sir, you will see why I cannot sail again with Simon Fernandes. I have suspicions that he is at worst a spy, at best an opportunist concerned only with privateering for his personal gain.”

Raleigh leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard again. “Your former colleague, Thomas Hariot, has a manuscript ready for publication,” he said. “If this work were published to increase interest, investors would more readily sign on to support our venture.”

“Exactly!” White pummeled the air with his fist and saw Raleigh smile at his enthusiasm.

“
Enough,” Raleigh said, standing. “We will do what must be done, Governor White. You did right by coming here personally, and we will do right by sending you back to your daughter and granddaughter with all due haste.”

White stood, too, and bowed, silently thanking God that Raleigh
’s visions of a sprawling and prosperous Virginian estate outrivaled his doubts about the benefits and profits of privateering.

During the English winter of 1587, draughts whistled among the tapestries of London
’s fine houses. The constant damp made fires balk and turned the gentry’s fine clothing slick and musty. Biting winds churned the unruly waves of the English Channel so violently that John White’s pinnace could not sail.

Bravely shouldering his disappointment, John White said innumerable prayers for the safety of the colony and his family, then concentrated his efforts upon equipping the large fleet that was to sail in the late spring. The wives of Roger Bailie, Thomas Stevens, Roger Prat, and John Sampson were contacted and began making arrangements to sail to Virginia, and White had the sad responsibility of visiting the widow of
George Howe to inform her of her husband’s death. The widow Howe elected to remain in England rather than join her son, consigning him to the care of God and John White. White could not pass judgment upon the grieving woman. Those who did not have the courage to cross the Western Ocean should not set out on such a journey.

His disappointment over the pinnace
’s failure to sail was tempered by the discussion of Thomas Hariot’s manuscript,
A
Brief and True Report of the New Found Land of Virginia.
Interest in the colony and in Virginia soared, and White found himself in demand as a dinner guest of gentle folk who peered over their silverplate to inquire about rumors of savages, wild animals, and the possibility of gold in the sandy shores of Virginia.

Twenty-six

G
od will not bless us if we neglect his worship any longer!” Thomas Colman’s angry voice echoed over the assembly and Ananias Dare noticed several of the colonists nodding in agreement. This minister was dangerous, and in Ananias’ opinion, an unwelcome addition to the colony.

“Would you prefer to starve or pray this winter?” Ananias asked, opening his hands to the men and women who had gathered on benches in the circular clearing to hear the minister
’s sermon. “The Reverend wants us to take precious time and energy to build a church, but I say ‘tis more important to hunt. Winter is upon us, but with salted meat in the storehouse—”

“Hunting will take us into the forests of the Indians,” Arnold Archard spoke up, his hand on his young son
’s head. “And I dare not venture from this island nor from my house without the blessing and protection of God.”

“Aye,” Edward Powell stood. “Does not the Word of God instruct us to bring our first fruits into the storehouse? We have made no storehouse for God, and we need a place fit for worship. This open space—” he spread his hands to indicate the clearing where they had gathered, “is not sufficient. Our women and children will not want to meet here in the cold of January. But we can build a church for worship, and a place for assembly.”

“Mark me, why should we build?” John Sampson interrupted, standing. “I would as lief build a castle as a church. We are leaving this place in the spring, so we don’t need a permanent building.”

“The building can be disassembled, as can our homes.” Thomas Colman stepped forward again, and Ananias noticed with disapproval that nearly every eye turned respectfully
toward the minister. “We can build a sound structure of wattle and daub panels. When it comes time to leave, the house of God can easily be carried with us.”

“The house of God.” Ananias stepped forward, his upper lip curling in distaste. “We worship God in our hearts and in our homes, we do not need to invest our labor in this man
’s idea. He merely seeks an outlet for his calling, for he is no farmer. If you let him build this church, he will demand a tithe of your crops next, a tithe of your venison, your squirrel, your gold. If we give in to his demands for God at this juncture, I believe we will be supporting the minister and his wife for years to come.” He slammed his fist onto his open palm. “‘Tis not to be borne! Would you serve the state church of England even here? We were promised self-government, and we ought to worship in the sanctity of our own homes. Each man must see to his own to prepare for the winter; we do not have time to build a church!”

Ananias smiled inwardly when many faces nodded in agreement and heads buzzed in private discussion. But then the minister stepped forward and held up his eloquent hands. The crowd stilled.

“God demands nothing from a heathen man,” he said, his dark eyes sweeping over the assembled group. “But of those who call themselves his people, he demands everything. The tithe is the Lord’s, but more than that, everything we are and own is his. I beseech you, my brothers and sisters, to make of yourselves a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.”

Ananias felt the pull of the minister
’s dark eyes, and he looked steadfastly away.

“I will not command you to build a church,” the minister went on. “I will ask you to commit yourselves to this duty. Whatever man will come to build, let him come. Whatever man will ignore the blessings and commands of God, let him stay away and tend to his own affairs. But if you would ask God to provide safety, security, and provision for the winter,
‘tis only fair that you provide the same for God’s people who want to worship. If you care not for the things of God, consider this—there are savage arrows in the forest. Will the one flying toward you be swayed by the hand of God, or find its place in your breast?”

The minister sat down, but the air trembled with his poorly veiled threat. Wives whispered into the ears of their husbands, men nodded in reply. Ananias knew in that moment the
minister had won. How could he compete against the threats of a man who promised certain death if they did not obey his wishes?

Nudged by his wife, Henry Payne stood. “I will meet you tomorrow, Reverend, to begin building,” he said.

“So will I!” This from Roger Bailie.

Cries of agreement echoed through the camp until nearly all the men stood. The minister nodded soberly in agreement, and Ananias wiped all signs of defeat from his face. The minister had won this time. But he would not win again.

Thomas paused in his labor to wipe the sweat from his brow. Nearly all the colonists had turned out to build the church, even Ananias and his followers. Though they had complained loud and long in the town meeting, not one of them wanted to be thought less Christian than the next man.

The sound of laughter interrupted his thoughts, and Thomas turned to see old Roger Bailie sharing a laugh with Jocelyn and Audrey. The women were gathering the slender twigs that would be woven into thatching for the roof, and the elder gentleman had taken time out to do a bit of harmless flirting. An irrational spirit of jealousy rose in Thomas
’ soul. Why did the man think it proper to smile at his wife?

He was about to open his mouth and say something, but at that moment Jocelyn caught Thomas
’ eye. The smile disappeared from her face as completely as if she’d wiped it away with her hand, and Thomas’ jealousy was instantly displaced by guilt. She was always hiding her smiles in his presence. He knew she felt the need to bridle her natural high spirits when he was near, and the steely strength he had first noticed in her had long been buried under a cloak of submission and forbearance. She worked hard to be a good minister’s wife and he had no complaints, but where had she secreted the spirited girl he loved?

Eleanor threw her cousin a sparkling smile and shifted baby Virginia in her arms as she embraced Jocelyn. “There, cousin, I am glad you have come! Agnes is of no help to me with Virginia, for she spends all day cooking or gossiping with the other servants. How are you feeling?”

Jocelyn shrugged as she untied her cloak, then sank onto a stool near the warm hearth fire. “I am well. The baby has begun to move and kick.”

“Ah,” Eleanor smiled, struggling with the active child in her arms. “And has Thomas—”

Jocelyn shook her head. “Thomas still sleeps above in the attic. ‘Tis all right—we are both busy. He works all day to build the church, and I am helping Beth Glane gather limbs for the walls. Thomas and I never speak, even while I am helping with the building.”

“You shouldn
’t be working so!” Eleanor said, alarm crossing her face. “I’m surprised he would let you.”

Jocelyn stared into the dancing flames. “I
’m only helping to weave the twigs into the walls. Tomorrow we begin to cover the twigs with clay, then the men will put the walls into position. The church should be finished very soon.”

“So Thomas is happy?” Eleanor asked gently.

“Thomas is never happy. He is—
satisfied.
”

Jocelyn
’s lovely face was strained by exhaustion, her brows a brooding knot over her eyes. Eleanor studied her young cousin’s countenance for a moment, then clucked in quiet sympathy. “Why don’t you carry Virginia to the upstairs room for me?” she suggested, hoping that time alone with the playful baby might lift Jocelyn’s spirits. What woman did not love a baby, particularly when her own womb brimmed with new life? “She has nursed, and she may want to play for a bit before falling asleep.”

Jocelyn nodded in quiet agreement, then lifted Virginia from Eleanor
’s arms and carefully climbed the narrow staircase to the attic room. Eleanor watched them go, then bit her lip. The minister had seemed a decent sort of man in the beginning, but he had made her cousin miserable and turned Ananias into a raging tyrant. Ever since the colony chose to follow the minister instead of bowing before Ananias’ recommendation—

The door opened, and Ananias entered in a whirl of bitter cold. Of all the colonists and council members, only he had absolutely refused to work on the church in any way, preferring to spend his time hunting. His face was red with cold as he entered, his eyes steely glints of anger.