Cate of the Lost Colony Read online

  Chapter 41

  From the Papers of Sir Walter Ralegh

  Narrative of a Voyage to Virginia.

  On the 19th 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 h
omespun.

  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.

  Chapter 42

  Cate’s Choice

  When it was clear the Englishmen would come ashore, Weyawinga sent the women and children into the woods about a mile from the village. No palisade or fort could provide better cover than the groves of trees and thick bushes, and there we hid. Some of us were armed, should it become necessary to protect the others. I carried a bow and arrows, which Manteo had taught me to use, although I did not relish using them to shoot a man. Alice had a pistol and the Croatoan women had knives.

  Betty would not carry a weapon. “I trust God to defend me,” she said.

  Mika kept the children calm by singing quietly to them. Her belly was visibly round, and I wondered whether her babe would resemble her or Graham. Takiwa, unafraid, had stayed in the village. We waited for hours, expecting to hear the crack of musket fire and war whoops, but the only sounds were the wind in the trees, small creatures in the underbrush, and birdsong. Then a breathless Takiwa came running and said a single boat had landed and its two passengers were talking with Weyawinga.

  I was relieved there would be no bloodshed, but somewhat bewildered. “Who are the two men?” I asked her.

  “One, Manteo says, is the English governor.”

  “It must be John White!” I said. “And who is the other?” I asked Takiwa.

  She shrugged. “He is not clothed like a man of any importance.”

  “There is no danger, so let’s go back,” said Alice. “I want to hear the news from England—how the queen fares, whether there has been war with Spain, what the ladies are wearing now.” Her eyes shone with excitement.

  I, too, was full of questions. Was Emme still in the queen’s favor? Was she married yet? And Frances, had she been rewarded for her spying? Did the queen, who once said she would be like my mother, ever speak of me? John White could not satisfy me on these matters, but surely he could answer one question that still tugged at my vanity: Had Sir Walter forgotten me?

  “Yes, we must welcome John White,” I said, taking Virginia’s hand.

  Betty and Alice and her boy rose to follow me, but Joan Mannering held back.

  “Nay, I am ashamed to be seen by an outsider,” she said. “At my age, to be dressed in this manner?”

  “Our breasts are covered, and our loins, with cloth and skins. Eve wore far less,” said Betty.

  “Yes, and Eve had reason to be ashamed,” said Joan, unpersuaded. She chose to stay with the Croatoan women until Weyawinga summoned them back.

  As we neared the village I began to have misgivings.

  “Alice, Betty, wait!” I pleaded. “What if John White has come to take Virginia away with him? I can’t let her go.”

  “He has no doubt learned of Eleanor’s death. After coming all this way, he deserves to see that his granddaughter lives,” said Betty gently. “You cannot deny him that.”

  She was right. And so with hesitant steps I led Virginia to the outskirts of the village, where we waited to be certain it was safe to enter. I saw John White sitting on a stool near Weyawinga’s canopy, looking old and defeated. His companion was acting like someone of importance, though he was rudely clothed. He remonstrated with Graham and the others, demanding something they would not give him. As he looked back and forth, his long hair flew from side to side. His face was bearded and he wore a silver earring. Indeed, he resembled nothing so much as the pirates I had seen on the wharves in London and Portsmouth. Presently he dashed from the scene, and I ventured forth, carrying John White’s granddaughter.

  When he saw me, Manteo looked alarmed. He glanced over his shoulder at the departing figure and moved closer as if to protect me. I wondered if there were some danger I could not see, even as I felt the familiar pleasure of his nearness.

  John White looked up at me with his eyebrows raised. I was startled by his appeareance. The last three years had whitened his hair and stolen much flesh from his bones. Eleanor would have rushed to feed him.

  “Good day, Governor White, and welcome,” I said.

  “Lady Catherine. I, too, would know you anywhere,” he replied.

  Those were strange words of greeting, I thought. Was his mind broken from grief? I turned the child in my arms so he could see her.

  “Is it Virginia Dare? My Virginia?” he whispered. Tears glistened in his eyes.

  No, she is mine. My dear one. But I nodded and set the child on his lap for him to hold. If he takes Virginia away, I must go too, for I promised Eleanor I would take care of her.

  White held his granddaughter as if she were made of glass and kissed her head. “Ah, Virginia. You’ve never known any world but this one for which you are named.”

  The child began to wriggle and fret. Did she sense he meant to take her away? She held out her arms to me. “You hold me, Mama Cate.”

  “In a minute, dear heart,” I said, holding myself back with difficulty. “This is your grandpapa, who has not seen you since you were born.” My voice caught as I remembered how afraid I had been of Eleanor dying in childbirth. That was before our troubles began in earnest: before disease and starvation; before the cruel hanging, Betty Vickers’s banishment, and my own captivity; before Ananias was killed by Indians and Eleanor by a fever; before our exodus from Fort Ralegh more than a year ago. How much this hardy child and I had survived together!

/>   “I am sorry about Eleanor,” I said, old guilt pressing against my ribs.

  White sighed heavily. “I tried many times to return. I wanted nothing more than to grow old in this New World with my family.” He tilted Virginia’s head so he could see her face. “Her eyes are like her mother’s.”

  Then he stood up and handed me the child. Virginia wrapped her hands around my neck and her feet around my waist, holding on like an opossum clinging to a branch.

  “Now it is enough for me to know my daughter’s daughter will live out her life here,” he said. “If you choose to remain, she must stay with you.”

  “Thank you!” My breath rushed out and I embraced him, the child between us. I felt I had been given a gift more valuable than any trinket from the queen, any nickname or words of praise, a treasure worth more than a hundred baskets of pearls.

  But then John White made my complete little world quake and quiver.

  “Leave the child with me for a moment, and go that way.” He pointed to the seaward side of the island. “Sir Walter searches for you.”

  At first I could not comprehend his words. The pirate I had seen with John White bore no resemblance to Ralegh. I wondered if the governor had fallen in with brigands and was now engaged in their deceptions. But why would he lure me to follow one of them? Did he intend in my absence to steal Virginia and row back to the ship? That made no sense. But why should I leave the child and run after an unknown sea-rover, putting myself in danger?

  “Sir Walter Ralegh, you mean? Is this some jest?”

  “Trust me, Lady Catherine,” he said. He smiled at me with the same honest eyes I remembered. He was not lying to me.

  I set Virginia down and in a daze walked out of the village and over the sandy hills leading to the seaward shore. Perhaps Sir Walter had not come into the village with John White and the pirate, but had set out to look for me. Had he come at last to govern Virginia himself?