Two main arguments convinced voyagers to go to Jamestown. The most important was that recruits would share in any profit made in the New World. The suggestion that precious metals would be found had been freely made in the early days of the colony, and the impression persisted even though such claims had been largely eliminated from the company’s most recent promotional literature. While officials were careful not to say so publicly, the grand hopes of the first colonists for gleaming treasure had been all but abandoned by the time the Gates fleet was preparing to leave England. During the first two years of settlement the Virginia Company had been rewarded with a return of only “petty commodities and hope of more.” Promoters had begun to suggest that if gold and silver were not to be had, perhaps the flow of commodities could be enhanced until it was not so petty.
The most obvious raw material America offered was lumber, of which deforested England had little. The virgin forests of Virginia promised masts for ships and planks for houses. The wood could also be used as fuel to make secondary products like pitch, soap, turpentine, and glass. Virginia plants might yield oils, dyes, medicines, perfumes, wines, and textiles. There were fish and furs as well. Mines held the potential of iron and copper. Johnson in Nova Britannia listed a score of products imported from eastern Europe and the Mediterranean that could instead be produced by England in Virginia. If this was accomplished, he wrote, England might rightly expect “this little northern corner of the world to be in short time the richest storehouse and staple for merchandise in all Europe.”
There was another economic goal of the Virginia explorers, but by 1609 it too was a fading prospect. The Virginia Company hoped to find a river passage through the continent of North America to the spice markets of India and China. If a passage could be found and controlled, the investors would become very rich indeed. Those prospects seemed to be enhanced by early reports from the Powhatans—undoubtedly garbled in translation—that a great body of water lay west of Jamestown. A possible explanation is that their trade networks extended north to the Great Lakes or south to the Gulf of Mexico. English exploration of the rivers so far had led only to narrowing channels and impassable rapids. While the hope of a route to the East Indies remained active, it too was becoming ever more distant as the Gates fleet prepared to sail.
The pamphlets of the Virginia Company quietly shifted their emphasis in another way also, from suggestions of easy fortunes to appeals about the glory of conquest. The settling of Jamestown, they said, was an opportunity to convert the Powhatans to Christianity. Ministers who favored the mission proclaimed from their pulpits that England had a duty to spread the Gospel to the New World. Reverend William Symonds was an enthusiastic backer of the Virginia experiment and had no problem attacking critics who saw the colonists as an invading force: “If these objectors had any brains in their head but those which are sick, they could easily find a difference between a bloody invasion and the planting of a peaceable colony in a waste country where the people do live but like deer in herds.” Any opposition must be Catholic in origin, Symonds said. “Certainly our objector was hatched of some Popish egg.”
Robert Johnson also answered detractors who saw the Virginia colonists as trespassers. “As for supplanting the savages, we have no such intent,” he wrote. “Our intrusion into their possessions shall tend to their great good and no way to their hurt, unless as unbridled beasts they procure it to themselves.” Johnson claimed that descendants of the Powhatans would thank the English for the gift of the European way of life. “Their children when they come to be saved will bless the day when first their fathers saw your faces,” he told potential colonists. The message hinted at ominous consequences if the inhabitants of the New World resisted the imposition of a foreign culture.
Another commentator, Richard Hakluyt, used the metaphor of an artisan creating a fine work to explain how the voyagers would respond if the Powhatans refused to cooperate. “To handle them gently while gentle courses may be found to serve, it will be without comparison the best,” Hakluyt wrote. “But if gentle polishing will not serve, the one shall not want hammerers and rough masons enough, I mean our old soldiers trained up in the Netherlands, to square and prepare them to our preachers’ hands.” Symonds also endorsed the use of guns and armor if the gifts of Christianity and Western civilization were not readily accepted. To argue otherwise, he said, was to argue that a parent should be denied the option of corporal punishment.
For as much ink as was devoted to the glory of converting the Powhatans, that element of the discussion had little practical application for most of the men and women who made the decision to go to the New World. They only paid true heed to the economic argument, the contention that riches were to be found and anyone with a stake in the enterprise would share in the wealth. To be sure, in the two years since the founding of Jamestown there had been plenty who dismissed the idea that Virginia held treasure, the most vocal being those who had no intention of ever leaving England. The critics did their speaking on street corners and in coffeehouses, however, rather than in printed pamphlets.
Virtually the only criticism that made it into print was the satire of the playwrights of London who regularly parodied the Virginia expeditions. Ben Jonson’s 1605 Eastward Hoe lampooned the expectations of those preparing to go to Virginia. The character of Seagull echoed the wildest hopes of the Jamestown colonists. “Gold is more plentiful there than copper is with us, and for as much red copper as I can bring I’ll have thrice the weight in gold,” he said. “Why, man, all their dripping pans and their chamber pots are pure gold, and all the chains with which they chain up their streets are massy gold; all the prisoners they take are fettered in gold; and for rubies and diamonds, they go forth on holidays and gather ’em by the seashore to hang on their children’s coats and stick in their caps.” Ironically, as plays like Eastward Hoe parodied dreams of Virginia treasure, they also raised the expectations of potential colonists. In a plague-ravaged city with little economic opportunity, the promise of the overseas expedition seemed an even better bet with the subtle nudgings of the stage players. Every one of the voyagers who rode the rowboats to the vessels of the Third Supply during the last weekend in port had heard the condemnations of the critics and the parodies of the wags. They had simply chosen to consider them in the best possible light.
William Strachey was one of the few colonists whose interest in the Powhatans was a major reason for voyaging to Virginia. His views about the need to impose Christianity upon them were just as vehement, but his real interest lay in recording details about the indigenous culture of the people he met. Strachey was as self-interested as the voyagers who still hoped to find gold and silver in Virginia. He intended to gather material for a book and return home to find fame as a New World chronicler. Strachey planned to learn all he could about the Powhatans’ food, clothing, medicine, marriage customs, childhood rites, holidays, and burial practices. The treasure he expected to bring back was a journal of observation rather than pockets full of shiny nuggets.
The three men who would lead the expedition to Virginia were, according to one participant, “three most worthy honored gentlemen.” Thomas Gates was the newly appointed acting governor of Virginia; George Somers was the admiral of the fleet and would command the ships at sea; and Christopher Newport was the vice admiral and captain of the Sea Venture. Somewhat inexplicably, all three would sail on the flagship. Apparently the comfort of traveling on the better appointed lead ship overrode any concern that the loss of the vessel would leave the colony bereft of its leaders. The decision would be one that Thomas Gates would have to answer for in the future. Exacerbating the possible consequences of the move, three sealed boxes with instructions for running the colony under the new charter were also carried on the flagship.
While the leaders would all ride on the Sea Venture, only Newport was on the ship when William Strachey arrived at Woolwich. Somers and Gates would come aboard when the ship put in to Plymouth, England, to take on supplies.
At age forty-nine, Newport was a veteran privateer. His adventures began thirty years earlier when as a nineteen-year-old sailor he jumped ship in Brazil and made his way home on another vessel. John Smith called him “a mariner well practiced for the western parts of America,” by which he meant the western Atlantic. Newport was celebrated in maritime circles for capturing the heavily laden Spanish treasure ship Madre de Dios in 1592, and for bringing home a live alligator for the king in 1605. Most of his accomplishments came after he lost his right arm in a skirmish with the Spanish in 1590. The vice admiral would be in charge of the Sea Venture at the pleasure of Somers, who outranked him.
Strachey had met few mariners during life in London and the English countryside. The sailors who would run the ships of the Third Supply were among the coarsest class of English society, and, as Smith said, their job demanded that they be tough when conditions turned stormy: “Men of all other professions in lightning, thunder, storms, and tempests with rain and snow may shelter themselves in dry houses by good fires and good cheer, but those are the chief times that seamen must stand to their tacklings and attend with all diligence their greatest labor upon the decks.” While the mariners of the first transatlantic fleets were essential personnel at sea, they were only bystanders to the settlement of the New World. Their job was to deliver people and cargo to Virginia, pick up marketable goods collected and manufactured abroad, and carry them back to England.
The passengers who climbed aboard the Sea Venture were a varied group. The Virginia Company was pleased to tell prospective voyagers that “persons of rank and quality” like Strachey would be aboard the ships. John Smith was not so charitable in his assessment of the wealthy adventurers. The gents who had gone on the original voyage had not adjusted well to the wilderness setting. They soon missed “their accustomed dainties with feather beds and down pillows,” he said, and once in Jamestown their only objective had become to commandeer ships and return to England.
Though Strachey would probably have denied it, he was just the type of adventurer Smith was criticizing. From his first days on the Sea Venture at Woolwich, Strachey was disdainful of the artisans and laborers who were also aboard. In his accounts he would write of “common people” whose actions were guided by “hot bloods.” The rabble was invariably compared to the company’s “gentlemen of quality and knowledge of virtue.” Strachey would blame the problems of the expedition on “the idle, untoward, and wretched number” who would share the confines of the Sea Venture with “the better sort of the company.”
The flagship would carry its share of the “wretched number.” The Virginia Company was so in need of recruits that it allowed even penniless laborers to sign on. Just as Strachey had done, they could offer themselves as colonists and be awarded one share of Virginia Company stock simply for going to Jamestown. The laborers, however, were expected to do the heavy work of the colony while the gentlemen served as the leaders. Anyone agreeing to go without putting up cash was expected to “go in their persons to dwell there” and “thither to remain,” though in reality many returned to England without forfeiting their shares. After seven years those in this class were to receive the same percentage of profits and land due to those who acquired shares through purchase. This practice made the Virginia expedition an opportunity available to anyone willing to voyage abroad, even the poorest laborers of London.
The Third Supply would also carry a mix of the tradesmen the Virginia Company had sought in its advertisements. The wide range of crafts-men solicited confirms that industry was expected to thrive at Jamestown. The Virginia Company was looking for druggists, gardeners, tile makers, fish processors, vine growers, soap makers, miners, sugarcane planters, pearl drillers, and charcoal makers, just to name a few. While the company hoped to attract established professionals, few experienced artisans could be convinced to abandon hard-won situations in England for the wilds of the New World. Most who joined were on the margins of their professions. Members of the livery companies of London—the unions of the day—were among the greatest supporters of the Virginia enterprise because the fleets cleared the city of unskilled pretenders to their crafts. Fifty-five companies provided funds for the upcoming expedition.
There were indeed many pretenders to the trades in London. A fundamental change in the English economic system—the fencing of farmland and the eviction of peasant farmers in favor of employees of landlords—was creating throngs of poor. Growing crowds from the countryside would soon increase the population of London from a hundred and fifty thousand to a quarter million. Robert Johnson even suggested that wealthy investors should look on the Virginia enterprise as a way to save money on the construction of English prisons: “Our land abounding with swarms of idle persons, which having no means of labor to relieve their misery, do likewise swarm in lewd and naughty practices, so that if we seek not some ways for their foreign employment we must provide shortly more prisons and corrections for their bad conditions.” The Virginia Company was better than its word. As the sailing date of the Third Supply drew near and the quota of tradesmen remained unfilled, unemployed workers were accepted in place of experienced tradesmen. The blend of gentlemen, sailors, artisans, and laborers would prove a volatile mix.
CHAPTER THREE
Ocean Bound
Calm seas, auspicious gales.
—Prospero, The Tempest
Three days after William Strachey’s arrival on board the Sea Venture , the vessels of the Jamestown fleet winched their anchors aboard, unfurled limited sail, and headed downstream with the current of the Thames. The cruise down the river, around the southeastern tip of England and along the coast of the English Channel, brought the fleet to Plymouth. The convoy passed the fish-curing houses at the entrance of the harbor and anchored to await going in turn to the quay for loading.
“From Woolwich the fifteenth of May, 1609, seven sail weighed anchor,” Gabriel Archer reported, “and came to Plymouth the twentieth day, where Sir George Somers with two small vessels consorted with us. Here we took into the Blessing (being the ship wherein I went) six mares and two horses, and the fleet laid in some necessaries belonging to the action, in which business we spent till the second of June.”
The port town on the Devon coast was well equipped to supply the fleet. A stone quay built in 1572 had proved its utility when British ships put in for provisions before going against the Spanish Armada in 1585. A freshwater stream was diverted to the town in 1591, providing a ready supply of water to fill the casks of outbound ships. Warehouses served by cranes lined Plymouth harbor and African slaves were among the shore-men who loaded ships. Here the vessels of the Jamestown fleet tied up and prepared to take on stores.
The Swallow and the Virginia joined the expedition at Plymouth and brought the fleet to a full complement of nine sail. The Virginia was a pinnace—a small sailing vessel designed for coastal waters—and had been constructed in 1607 at the Sagadahoc colony on the coast of present-day Maine, the second vessel ever built in English America. Meeting the fleet at Plymouth, too, was its admiral. A fellow colonist mistakenly judged the fifty-five-year-old George Somers to be “three score years of age at the least,” presumably due to a white head of hair. One voyager reported him to be in possession of a “worthy and valiant mind.” To another contemporary he was “a man very industrious and forward,” and to Strachey he was “a gentleman of approved assuredness and ready knowledge in seafaring actions.” Perhaps the best description of the admiral contrasted his demeanor on land and sea: “Sir George Somers was a lamb on the land, so patient that few could anger him, and (as if entering a ship he had assumed a new nature) a lion at sea, so passionate that few could please him.”
The admiral of the Third Supply was born in 1554 in Lyme Regis on the Dorset coast and had more than a decade of West Indies experience. Somers came out of retirement to join the expedition. During the last five years he had spent enough time on land to serve as mayor of his native town and to occupy a seat in Parliament. He joined t
he fleet late because he had been detained in Dorset for the making of his will. On April 23, 1609, he declared in the will that he was “intending to pass the seas in a voyage towards the land called Virginia.” In case of death he left his property to his wife Joan (who would stay behind) and, being childless, his nieces and nephews. One of those nephews was Matthew Somers, who would voyage to Virginia in the present convoy aboard the Swallow.
During the twelve days at Plymouth, the elite of the expedition may have stayed at a lodging house in a former monastery called the Mitre Inn and visited the house of the notoriously gregarious mayor. A contemporary observer gave the names of the officers of the fleet—Ratcliffe, King, Martin, Nellson, Adams, Wood, Pett, Webb, Moone, Philes, and Davies—and described them as “expert captains and very resolute gentlemen.” Lower ranking crewmen and the artisan crowd slept on board the ships, but some of them surely made their way through the doors of the Rose & Crown Tavern and the Pope’s Head Inn for beer and sack (white wine). The timing of the stopover worked well, since in early June the Plymouth fishing fleet was away at the Newfoundland banks. Few ships were in the harbor and plenty of workers were available to haul crates and operate pulleys and cranes.
The Sea Venture would carry one hundred and fifty-three people to the New World. On the flagship the personnel breakdown was about thirty-five mariners, with the other hundred and eighteen comprising gentlemen (and a few gentlewomen and children), servants, artisans, and peasants (also including a few family members). Only the total number and a few of the names are known, as no passenger list survives.
A servant woman named Elizabeth Persons was among those riding the flagship. Persons had left her family behind in England to travel to the New World in the employ of a Mistress Horton, one of the elite adventurers. As usual her chores would include tending to the needs of her employer, though in the unusual circumstances of the expedition her dealings with her would be less formal than usual. She would look after her clothing and luggage as best she could, fetch her water and other necessities from the general supply, and keep her sleeping area clean. The children on the vessel already tended to gravitate to the sides of young servants like Elizabeth, and would do so during the weeks ahead on the water.
A Brave Vessel: The True Tale of the Castaways Who Rescued Jamestown and Inspired Shakespeare'sThe Tempest Page 3
