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Surviving Jamestown

Page 5

by Gail Langer Karwoski


  But deep inside, Sam knew that his nightmare was about fear. He was afraid of Virginia, afraid of dying. Sam rolled onto his back and lifted Molly onto his chest. He stroked her back and ran his fingers along her tail.

  For the first time in his life, Sam admitted to himself that he was scared. He didn’t like the feeling. He vowed he would not let himself become a coward. “No matter what happens in Virginia,” he whispered, “I will face it bravely.”

  4

  Virginia

  On April 10, 1607, the ships left the islands and sailed north into open waters. Four days later, Captain Newport plotted their latitude and announced they were leaving the tropics surrounding the equator. Now the fleet would be sailing into cooler waters.

  A week later, the wind picked up and the afternoon sky darkened. Thunder boomed, and rain pelted the ship. The sailors hurried to reef the sails and close the hatches. The Susan Constant began to heave and plunge on ocean swells, which rose higher and higher until they actually towered over the ship’s masts. Captain Newport struggled to steer into the wind and waves. If a wall of water hit the ship broadside, she would overturn and sink.

  Below, the colonists scrambled to lash down loose objects. Two lanterns swung wildly, casting a flickering light over their efforts. When the ship lurched, Sam and the other passengers had to grab for the beams or heavy trunks to keep from colliding. Great waves were splashing onto the deck, and seawater leaked through the hatches and spilled down below. Soon their clothing was soaked.

  Shivering, Sam crouched beside James and tried to reassure him. “The Susan Constant will ride out this storm, James,” he said. Sam hoped his voice sounded more confident than he felt. “This is a good, stout ship. Storms happen at sea all the time, but sailors live to be just as old as anyone else.” Sam’s words had a calming effect on himself, but James looked as scared as a lost puppy.

  The sea was crashing against the ship’s hull, and the wind screamed. “Listen to me, James!” Sam shouted to be heard over the storm. “The captain knew we might run into storms. That’s why our fleet left England in wintertime—so we could reach Virginia before the hurricane season. And we’re almost there. Master Smith says we’ve traveled in a great arc, following the trade winds. First we went south and passed the western coast of Africa, where the Canary Islands are. Then we swung across the Atlantic and passed the West Indies. We’re heading north now, James. We should be in Virginia in a few days.”

  Suddenly the Susan Constant pitched violently to one side. Water sloshed over the boys’ knees. James vomited and began to sob.

  The storm blew for days. When the wind and rain finally let up, Captain Newport feared they’d been blown far off course. But several days later, on the morning of the twenty-sixth of April, John Smith nudged Sam’s shoulder to awaken him. “The sailors have spotted land!” Smith said.

  Sam sat up quickly. “Is it Virginia?” he asked, his voice trembling with excitement.

  “Aye, lad. That’s what the captain is saying.”

  Sam sprang to his feet and followed his master up to the open deck. The sky was just changing from gray to pink. Holding onto the ship’s rail, Sam looked where Smith pointed and saw a long, low brownish shape on the distant horizon. “That’s North America, Sam,” Smith said.

  Slowly the ships entered the Bay of Chesapeake. Sam and the other Englishmen watched the morning sun introduce this glorious new world. As the details of the distant shore took shape, the colonists were amazed to see immense trees and lush green forests.

  “Have you ever seen such stout, healthy trees?” a gentleman named George Percy exclaimed. “Why, a man could build a sturdy house from the wood of just one of those trees!” He began to weep. “I am almost ravished at the sight,” he cried out.

  Sam looked at Smith, alarmed. He had never seen a grown man cry so openly.

  Smith smiled and whispered, “Master Percy fancies himself a man of letters, Sam. His feelings are an open book. Men who scribble their emotions onto paper have less need to hide their tears from other men.”

  Captain Newport watched for a good place to land. Soon the ships were riding at anchor, and the sailors rowed the colonists to shore. Sam scrambled onto the muddy ground and let his eyes feast on the beauty in every direction. The sun was shining and the air was pleasantly warm. White seabirds cawed and wheeled above, as if they were welcoming him to his new home. He sniffed. The smell of decaying plants and new life reminded him of the marshes around Lincolnshire. Small crabs scuttled through seeping puddles in the mud. Sam reached out a finger to touch tiny white shell creatures clinging to the tips of bright green grasses.

  “Is this Virginia? For certain?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sam, this is Virginia,” Smith said, beaming. “Isn’t it magnificent!”

  The colonists explored the grassy marshland and wandered into the forest. At dusk, they gathered at the shore to wait for the sailors to row them back to the ships. Suddenly, Sam heard a rustling from the trees. He turned to see natives creeping toward them on all fours. In the gray light the natives looked like smooth-haired bears to Sam. They carried bows in their mouths and arrows in pouches slung over their backs. When some of the gentlemen shouted in alarm, the natives leaped to their feet. As they charged at the Englishmen, the Indians yelled and whooped.

  Arrows slammed into the mud around him. Sam heard the screams of wounded men.

  Arrows rained through the air while the colonists fumbled to prime their muskets. Only a few of the gentlemen were carrying the burning rope matches needed to fire their muskets. John Smith was one of these few, and he raised his gun to shoot.

  “Get down, Sam!” Smith commanded as he emptied a cylinder of powder into his gun and reached for more lead shot.

  Sam crouched and covered his head with his arms. Arrows slammed into the mud around him. He heard the screams of wounded men.

  After a few of the Englishmen fired their guns, the natives fled into the trees. Sam rose slowly. One of the gentlemen, Gabriel Archer, had blood all over his hands where arrows had grazed his fingers. Some of the men washed Archer’s wounds and bound strips of cloth around his hands.

  A sailor had been wounded more seriously. He lay on the ground moaning. Sam watched as Smith and some of the others crouched over him and yanked out two arrows. The sailor screamed when the arrow points were torn out. But Smith said the wounds were not deep. He stuffed cloth into the punctures to stop the bleeding and told the men to carry the sailor aboard one of the rowboats.

  Sam pulled an arrow out of the mud before hopping into the longboat. He stuck it into his waistband so he could examine it in the safety of the ship. As the longboat neared the Susan Constant, Sam thought about the tales he’d heard about the natives of Virginia. They were said to be gentle, childlike people who were eager to welcome newcomers to their prosperous land. That’s a lie, Sam thought grimly. The natives attacked us on our first day in Virginia. They’re not gentle children. And they don’t want us here.

  Sam sat on his blanket and examined the arrow. He ran his index finger over its sharpened stone point and its straight shaft. Bird feathers had been trimmed and fastened with animal sinew onto the shaft. He tossed the arrow and watched how straight it flew. Sam had tried shooting with bow and arrows in Lincolnshire, and he recognized the skill that had produced this arrow.

  In the morning, Captain Newport announced that a crew would go ashore and begin assembling their shallop, a boat designed to explore shallow coastal waters. The parts for the shallop had been stored in the Susan Constant’s hold during the crossing. To guard against another attack, Newport ordered some men to put on their armor and get their weapons ready. The sailors rowed these guards ashore before they returned to ferry across the parts for the shallop.

  When the shallop was ready, Captain Newport decided to take a short exploring trip to try it out. George Percy was one of the gentlemen chosen to go. When the group returned, Percy gave a detailed account of what he had seen. “Our par
ty ventured across a flat expanse of mud. Wherever our boots trod, we discovered mussels. The shallow water, which was as clear as the air we breathe, was full of fine oysters—so numerous were they, as stones in a field!” Percy opened his hand and showed off pearls, which he had found in the oysters. “We came into a little plat of ground full of fine and beautiful strawberries, four times bigger and better than ours in England,” Percy said.

  Sam was sitting with Nate and James as Percy spoke. The boys looked at each other, their eyes sparkling at the thought of juicy strawberries and shining pearls. Oh, I cannot wait to explore this new world! Sam thought.

  The explorers had taken the shallop to a flat shoulder of land. They named that spot Cape Henry, and Reverend Hunt set up a cross there. On April 30, Captain Newport ordered the three sailing ships to move upriver to that cape.

  At Cape Henry, Captain Newport opened the sealed box containing the instructions from the Virginia Company. He reminded the passengers of their mission: Gather Virginia timber, furs, and foods for sale in England. Search for gold and precious stones. Explore Virginia’s rivers to find an easy water route across the continent so ships could sail from England to the Orient for silk and spices. Teach the Protestant religion to the natives. John Smith had already explained all these tasks to Sam.

  But Sam was as surprised as the others when he heard the rest of the company’s instructions. These were directions for governing the colony after Captain Newport returned to England. The company had written that a six-man ruling council should be left in charge. In the sealed box were the names of the men appointed to this council: Bartholomew Gosnold and John Ratcliffe, captains of the Godspeed and the Discovery, and three gentlemen, Edward Wingfield, John Martin, and George Kendall. The sixth member was John Smith!

  When Smith’s name was read aloud, the colonists gasped. John Smith was not a highborn Englishman like the others! In England, people were born into a class of society, and only men from the highest class were supposed to be leaders. The English settlers assumed that family status would determine who ruled their colony, as well.

  “Why did the Virginia Company appoint a man of Smith’s middling status to our council?” the colonists muttered to one another. “Shouldn’t the members of our ruling committee be men from the best families, like the ruling bodies of England?”

  “Smith was never cleared of the charge of mutiny,” one man grumbled. “He’s a criminal! We can’t trust him to govern our colony.”

  Sam kept his eyes on his master’s face as the colonists broke into a shouting match. John Smith looked straight ahead, his mouth locked in stony silence. His hands were clenched as if he could hold down his temper with his fingers.

  Master Wingfield was in a fury. He jabbed at the air with his finger as he spoke to the men beside him. George Kendall, Richard Mutton’s master, pounded his fist into his open hand and shouted. All the gentlemen were trying to voice their opinions at the same time. When Sam could distinguish what they were saying, he realized they were insulted because Smith had been elevated above them—this meant Smith would command men whose social status was higher than his own.

  The laborers also objected, but for a different reason. They were upset because the social order that they had always accepted was being changed. Already nervous about moving to an unexplored wilderness so far from home, the laborers were frightened by Smith’s appointment. In England, common men didn’t govern. How could their colony succeed if a commoner was put in charge?

  Not a single voice spoke in favor of putting Smith on the council—not even Stephen Calthrop’s or Reverend Hunt’s.

  Sam caught Nate’s eye, and Nate shrugged as if to say that he couldn’t understand how this new trouble had happened. Both boys knew that such arguments could turn deadly. The last time the colonists turned against my master, they built a gallows on the beach! Sam thought.

  After several polite attempts to calm the group, Captain Newport roared, “Gentlemen! Come to order!”

  At last, the commotion faded. Newport continued, “As fleet commander, I am in charge here. And I am going to override the company’s instructions. John Smith will not take his place on the council.”

  Now Sam was completely confused. How can they remove my master from the council? he wondered. Surely it isn’t lawful to disobey the company’s instructions. Sam glanced at his master. Only Smith’s flushed cheeks showed his feelings. Sam remembered the look on his master’s face when Wingfield scolded him on the beach in the Canary Islands. He remembered how tense Smith had become when Master Calthrop repeated the captain’s remarks about his social status and lack of manners. He’s very angry, Sam thought. John Smith is always angry when his social class is mentioned.

  After Newport resolved the issue of Smith’s appointment to the council, he explained the company’s directions for choosing the first president of the colony. The ruling councilmen would select one man from their members. The new council chose Master Wingfield, and none of the colonists objected. Wingfield came from a powerful, aristocratic family. He had relatives in the highest ranks of England’s government. He was exactly the type of man expected to command Englishmen.

  The fleet set sail again to explore the northern side of the river. When the sailors spotted five natives running along the riverbank, Captain Newport put on armor and ordered a crew to row him ashore. He called to the natives, who seemed frightened until the captain laid his hand over his heart. Then the natives set their bows and arrows on the ground and approached. Using signs, the natives invited the newcomers to visit their town, which they called Kecoughtan.

  The captain sent for a party of sailors and gentlemen to accompany him to the Indian town. John Smith offered to go, and Sam went along.

  The town of Kecoughtan was within a stone’s throw of the river. While the Englishmen pulled the shallop onto the beach, the natives gathered to watch. They lay facedown on the ground, scratched the earth with their fingers, and moaned loudly.

  “Why are they scratching the dirt?” Sam asked John Smith. “Is that the way these people greet visitors?”

  “I don’t know, Sam,” Smith replied. “My guess is that they’re praying to us. As if they think we are gods come to their village.”

  Sam hoped the natives did not consider it rude to stare, because he could not take his eyes off them. Apparently, it was not their custom to cover their bodies with clothing. Except for leather pieces tied on strings around their waists, both men and women wore nothing but red or black paint. The men scraped the hair off one side of their heads, so it would not get caught in their bowstrings. The long hair on the other side was braided and decorated with feathers. Birds’ bones hung through holes in their earlobes.

  The Kecoughtans spread out woven mats and invited their guests to sit. Sam sat behind John Smith and helped himself to a small cake from one of the bowls passed around by the villagers. It tasted like a moist, mealy loaf of bread. The Indians also served cooked meat, which Sam ate with relish.

  While they ate, Sam looked back and forth from the Indians to the Englishmen. The colonists were dressed in their usual clothing—long-sleeved shirts covered by waistcoats, breeches, woolen stockings, and leather shoes. Beads of sweat rolled down their noses and hung in their heavy beards.

  Sam had left off his waistcoat and stockings and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Since he was just a boy, Master Smith had not objected when he imitated the sailors and left his shirt open at the chest. But Sam still felt uncomfortable. It was already as hot as full summer in England. And Virginia’s humidity made the spring air feel sticky. Sam began to wish he could strip off the rest of his clothing and go naked, like the Indians.

  After the feast, the Indians staged an entertainment for their guests. One brave stood and clapped his hands. Others danced in a circle around him, stamping their feet and shouting. Some of the dancers scowled fiercely and let out piercing screams, which made Sam jump. A few dancers howled like wolves or pawed the air like bears.

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sp; Sam and the other Englishmen watched the dancing for about a half-hour. Then Captain Newport stood up and presented beads as gifts to the dancers before leading the colonists back to their ship for the night.

  The English fleet continued up the broad river, which was lined with grassy banks and some spits of sand. Several feet from shore, Sam could see scrubby bushes and small trees, with forest beyond. He longed to be off the ship and out exploring in those woods.

  Finally the ships dropped anchor at a promising spot, where the soil supported sturdy trees and thick, green undergrowth. Captain Newport sent out a landing party, and the men returned with reports of abundant wildlife—deer, squirrels, rabbits, colorful little songbirds, and much larger gamebirds.

  Gabriel Archer, the gentleman whose hands had been injured in the first Indian attack, urged Captain Newport to remain here. “Truly, this is as goodly a place as we’re likely to come upon, Captain. An abundance of sturdy trees. Game a’plenty. Rich soil that invites seed to grow.”

  But the captain hesitated. “I don’t know, Gabriel. I’m not satisfied,” Newport said. “It’s not safe. The river is too shallow by the shore. Our ships will be forced to anchor too far out in the river—away from our settlement. We’ll be in constant danger of attack by the natives or by Spanish vessels coming up from the bay.”

  Master Wingfield agreed. He argued that the colonists needed the safety offered by their ships in this dangerous new world. After all, one of their men had mysteriously dropped dead in the West Indies, and natives had attacked them on their first night in Virginia.

  The other settlers agreed, too. The ships—with their thick hulls and iron cannons mounted for battle—provided safety against the unknown. So the sailors pulled up anchor and the search continued. Before leaving the point, Captain Newport declared he would name it Archer’s Hope in honor of Gabriel Archer, who had argued in favor of settling there.

 

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