But first we had soldiers to wait for. We would need them.
14th July 1587
Despite the ill-fated start we endured, the colonists are in high spirits. The difference between the new world and England is that now we’re working for ourselves. We are in charge of our own destinies, we pay no tax, we pay no extortionate landlord rents. We now live off our own labour and will reap the rewards from our own hard work. There is no greater motivation for us than knowing that what we work for, we keep and nobody can take it away from us.
That is not to say we’re not and will not continue to be fraught with hardships. For one, the soldiers have still not returned. One can only wonder what has happened to them. Having had time to turn the fort inside out, we’ve not been able to locate any clues as to their present location. Fifteen soldiers cannot simply disappear into thin air, yet that appears to have been the case. If they have temporarily vacated in order to forage for food, then why not leave men behind to guard the fort? It makes no sense.
Three hours it took the colony to transport the baggage from the jetty to the fort. It piled up in the worn out dirt, broken boxes and carts which scattered tools and supplies about without a care. No sooner had we finished then the naturals appeared from the trees.
They simply waltzed into the fort as if they owned the place. There were about forty of them however, Putnam Bonner later told me he counted nearer fifty. How many more of them were hiding out in the forest and beyond is anybody’s best guess. The first thing that struck me was that they were not afraid of us, or if they were, their fears were pushed aside due to the strength of their curiosity. They ran their hands along our tunics, feeling the material between their fingers, then did likewise with our hair. I saw two naturals who seemed transfixed by a colonist’s leather boots. They touched our white skin and seemed surprised it felt like their own. Between shrill calls to each other that pierced my ear drums, they would play with any object they could find on our person. One savage paid particular interest to the pistol I had strapped to my side. I batted him away and found Chief Manteo who was speaking to one of the taller naturals. I asked him to tell his people to stop rummaging through our baggage. Manteo seemed surprised, “We have no concept of self, only us.” Whatever he meant I had no idea but I chased away one savage with white stripes painted across his torso and neck who was paying particular interest to a framed portrait of my mother.
I watched young Hastings playing hide and seek with a Croatan child and was relieved at least that for now everybody seemed to be getting along. For the meantime, the mutual novelty and curiosity should keep at least ourselves safe from these people. I must study them at depth and report my observations. I just wish they’d leave us alone, at least for a short time so we could find our feet in this place and organise ourselves, we have so much to be getting on with.
The colony was in large parts taking their meagre belongings and finding lodgings. There’d be too few reasonable rooms to go around and I worried that would cause friction. My main concern was ensuring Eleanor had somewhere comfortable to rest. Thankfully, Ananias had been amongst the first to secure a building for the family. It would most likely only be temporary, for we still had to make our decision with regards to travelling to Raleigh.
On our second evening in the fort, I stood in the thoroughfare and summoned the colony to the meeting hall. I watched as they downed tools, descended ladders and came out from buildings, filing into the hall in orderly fashion. This would be our first meeting in the new world and we were about to do something that would be unthinkable back in England.
The inside contained only a small quantity of seating. We gave that preference to the two pregnant women and to the wealthier of our colonists. Everybody else had to stand and they did so around the edge of the hall. It was cramped inside, voices amplified around the room.
Tom Dodd had earlier led a scouting team around the island and so I gave him the floor to put his thoughts forth to the colony. “Roanoke is baron! There’s select wildlife, yes. Yet we have not the means nor the inclination for catching the odd rabbit for sustenance. The heathen have hunted the deer to extinction, there is nothing. The soil lacks fertility. We have forest aplenty yes, but we cannot grow crops here, not tobacco nor wheat. Take a look around thee. We are in the middle of a damned marsh!” He spoke with a venomous passion, spit frothed at the mouth as he did and the people seemed transfixed through fear. “I say we leave this godforsaken hell hole and sail on towards Raleigh, as originally planned.”
The cheer was deafening and a group of naturals ran to the door to see what was happening. Putnam Bonner shoved a brace of them away, telling them this was an Englishman’s meeting hall. I feared we’d soon be leaving for Raleigh, to abandon our brave soldiers to their fate.
I called Burnham Redgar to take the floor, whose brother was one of those soldiers. “Do we stop being English simply because we have left England? Do we abandon our countrymen who like us serve Her Majesty simply because life would be easier for us? Do we stop being men just because we are now in the new world? Those soldiers are our countrymen, our folk and they need us. But we need them as well. We have but one soldier among our number. We are surrounded by a sea of heathen savage. Common sense surely dictates that we wait, we wait as long as it takes for our brothers to return. Then and only then should we make the decision to travel along unknown and hostile territory in search of fresh fields.”
Once again, the roar was deafening, feet stamped on the wooden floor and for a moment it felt like the building would collapse.
I called everybody to order and looked to the six wealthy men on the bench who had all been land owners in England. They had each, along with Sir Walter Raleigh, part financed this expedition and now the colony looked expectantly to them.
I said that we shall now put it to the vote and would the gentleman in favour of leaving for Raleigh please stand. Three of the wealthy men stood, one of them holding onto a stick for support. I looked at Tom Dodd who held an expression of complete apathy. I demanded that the gentleman in favour of remaining at Fort Roanoke now stand. The remaining three gentlemen rose to their feet. Tom Dodd and Burnham Redgar stared at each other and for a moment I saw a flash of sheer hatred between them.
All eyes then looked to myself, who as Governor of Raleigh would have the deciding vote. I looked to Tom Dodd and told him that my decision was that we would remain at Fort Roanoke until the soldiers returned. Then we would reconvene and make a decision about pressing forth towards Raleigh.
As my countrymen cheered, I realised we’d just made history. This democracy would make a fine method of governance as long as, and only as long as all sides of the argument were given equal time on the floor and all points of view could be put forth, no matter how obscure, repulsive or feeble. As long as the votes were held by strong, able bodied, intelligent and wealthy men then the right decision would always be made. I looked around at the men and women. They were happy. They were a part of this democracy and of their own destinies.
6th August 1587
After making the decision to remain on Roanoke Island everybody set to work making this place a more permanent home. The fort is not nearly large enough to contain everybody in even modest lodgings. Because of this we had to embark upon a large building programme. We have an abundance of skilled craftsmen, builders, carpenters and other labourers which is a blessing. Everybody has a designated task which they carry out for the greater good. We’re building three homes at a time before moving on to the next set of three. There are many people involved in building each individual home. We all take a fair share of the labour and our reward is somewhere to live. The small quantity of space which remained within the fort has now been utilised, except for a patch of land in the north east corner which has been designated for a theatre. Because of this, most of the new dwellings are being built outside the fort.
Unfortunately, Tom Dodd is finding spending time with the colony rather unpalatable and has taken
to building his own home without and far from the protection of the fort. I travel deep within the forest twice a week to check up on him. Despite wanting to set forth at once for Raleigh, he’s decided to stay close to the colony, albeit far from its protective bosom. Poor Tom seems to be living with the worst of both worlds.
We completed work on a large cesspit, dug deep into the ground and located a good three minute walk from the fort. We covered the pit with several latrines and even built a dividing wall between each one, an idea of George Oakwood. His bright idea was to provide a small degree of privacy whence toileting. At first I didn’t think the idea was worthy of much thought and considered the building of several divides a waste of time and resources. Though one can really feel a difference not being watched whilst excreting. The naturals watch with confusion as we enter and re-emerge some time later.
We have an infinite supply of timber from the forest and I watched in amazement how over the space of only a few weeks, we have created a huge clearing that hopefully soon enough we can fill with livestock. We’ll need to purchase a large quantity of sheep, Jersey cows, chickens and pigs and bring them over from England. Horses! We need horses too! Once we have horses we’ll be able to increase our collective output considerably. If and whence we progress to the mainland, horses will provide us with the capability of hunting deer, just as long as the heathen haven’t hunted them to extinction like they have on Roanoke.
But right now we need to concentrate our efforts on building lodgings. Sure, the August climate is warm and the nights are mild and pleasant. But winter will soon arrive and things will change. Our efforts stalled just last week and work temporarily came to a halt whence it emerged that several of our tools had simply vanished in to thin air. According to George Oakwood, we lost a brace of hammers, a box of nails, five axes, three wood saws, three shovels and the only chisel set in the entire new world. Whilst we can live without the chisels (having smooth walls is a luxury), how are we supposed to dig foundations without shovels?
I summoned the colony into the thoroughfare, where many of our people have been sleeping and demanded to know where the missing tools were. I looked upon the expressionless faces of the worn out men and women baring back at me and not one had a clue as to their present situation. Then finally little Hastings Oakwood spoke out, “I saw’d one of them savages looking at a fishing net. Then next time I came out it was gone!”
Ananias and Eleanor have taken in the other pregnant lady and her husband. They go by the name of Hobbs and are decent people. Yet the house we share is far too small for all five of us and I’m dearly hoping to find those tools to commence building again and have them set up in their own home. This is urgent, there will be another addition to the household any day now.
I was able to spend two whole days exploring the island. Whilst Tom Dodd was correct in his assertion that Roanoke won’t make the perfect home for us due to the abundance of marshland, I would not go as far as to say the island is baron. He must possess a philistine’s eye for I’m sure he failed to appreciate the fine flora out here on the Island. I took Chief Manteo and Wanchese with me to see the most wonderful sea oats on the dunes, significantly taller than any in England. Yellow Buckeyes that I’d seen in books can be found around the marshes. Yet it is the multitude of oaks that will best suit us. The oaks found here are of a distinct species to any found in England. The acorns appear larger and of a richer colour. I spent a few hours drawing a sketch of one, which I hope Her Majesty will appreciate.
We then ventured deep within the forest, the light turning to near darkness below the leaves. It was beautiful, a distinct eco-system which I knew we would soon destroy whence we came for the oak.
After several hours we reached the Croatan tribe. I hoped to forge links between our two peoples. They had frequently entered our fort with gifts of rabbits, berries, firewood and a strange head-dress I had yet to figure out what to do with. Whilst the food was more than a godsend and extremely appreciated whilst we were finding our feet in the new world, we could well do without them offloading their refuse on Her Majesty’s first colony in America. We needed better communication, we needed to know what both groups required from the other so then trade could be established. I also hoped they’d have information as to the present location of our brave soldiers.
The forest was full of life and activity. Children were running around and playing, as were many of the men, a strange game involving shaking a rattle in unison with each other. Women savages with their bare breasts on full display gutted several carcasses of goose. Others were mixing what I assumed to be stew within a large pot with a stick.
They seemed barely to care about the presence for the first time of a white man within their camp. That was, until the children saw me. Suddenly I was surrounded by a dozen little heathens, touching my clothes, speaking in their screeching tongue and each one donning a unique paint design on their torso.
Wanchese shouted at them and they spread apart. I straightened up and there was a green hand print on my tunic. It was then that I noticed something strange. Over by a tree stump was a familiar looking wooden chair. It had the same wicker threading design I’d become accustomed to in the galley on the voyage from England. I surveyed the rest of the camp and saw a shovel hanging by some grass cord from a branch. The spade had been painted a light blue colour whilst the handle had all manner of immaculate designs covering it. Then I saw a child hitting the turf with one of our hammers. I walked to a nearby tree stump and there found something extremely familiar to myself. It was my shaving kit. There it lay, neatly laid out in its constituent parts about the stump. I thought this most odd. What would a savage want with my shaving kit? I’d yet to encounter a natural who was even capable of growing facial hair. In a fit of anger, I gathered up the blade, brush, comb and shaving balm which my mother had bought for me whence I’d received my commission on the expedition. I was incensed. There’d be no trade links established today and nor would there ever be, at least not whilst the heathen insisted on the thievery of Her Majesty’s, as well as my own personal property.
I ordered my tribal friends to gather up as much of our stolen property as they could carry and was dismayed that between us, we could carry only a fraction of what had been pillaged. I watched the desolate expressions on the faces of those heathen who’d gathered around, including that of one child who was using a pair of pliers for earrings.
Whence we approached the fort, little Hastings ran towards me full of excitement. “Mr White, Mr White, I saw an English soldier, I did, in the forest!” I clipped him round the ear and dragged him home to his father George Oakwood, whom I was assured whipped the boy raw.
28th August 1587
It’s been an eventful three weeks in which, I’m afraid we may have made some terrible mistakes. I’m not even sure how to begin.
After learning the heathen had stolen much of our belongings, they entered our fort the next day, like they had done many times before. Once again they brought gifts of food. We had become almost reliant on this food due to the colony arriving too late in the season to plant crops. They arrived with cranberries, apples, nettles, pumpkins, tomatoes and one natural even had a brace of rabbit slung over his shoulders. The women took the delivery to the storehouse.
Several of the naturals left, leaving behind a handful of children and two adolescent looking heathens. We’d become accustomed to this and thought nothing of it whilst the little heathens played with our children. The two adolescents watched with interest whilst my son-in-law Ananias applied a new roof to one of the lodgings. Ananias tells me he finished nailing two truss beams together, descended the ladder, replaced his hammer and went to use the latrine. Whence he started back towards the fort, he passed by the two heathens who, to his complete astonishment, were carrying his hammer and several other utensils taken from the storage shed. Ananias recognised immediately what was happening and that once again the savages were thieving Her Majesty’s property.
Ananias
apprehended the two scallywags and singlehandedly frogmarched the brace back to the fort. Whence there, he cried at the top of his lungs for Putnam Bonner who was lunching with myself at the time. We both approached the sound of the cries only to find Ananias with a hand each on the necks of the two savages. What’s more, the savages each clutched a handful of Her Majesty’s property.
A haze of red descended over my vision. An example had to be made. I ordered Ananias and Putnam Bonner to place the two scallywags in the workshop until I could decide upon their fate.
In the meantime several people had approached to query upon the commotion. We sent the womenfolk back inside to tend to matters more befitting their sensibilities.
Then Chief Manteo offered to speak personally to the scoundrels, which he then did. Later, he explained that Tintao and Howhaku had only thought to learn from the white man and were merely curious as to our ways and customs. He explained to me that the natives have no concept of property and that everything was shared.
In retort, I told Chief Manteo that the pinching of Her Majesty’s property is a hanging offence and that an example had to be implemented upon the two savages. I made our ally understand that we had been suffering and would continue to suffer due to the large quantity of implements stolen by the heathen tribe we shared this island with. I understood that he was caught in the middle of a tricky situation between his people and his bond to the English. I reminded him that one day he would be made Lord of this island and that he should remember whose side he was on.
I told Chief Manteo and Wanchese to gather up a crowd of naturals, who should bear witness to the consequences of thievery.
At the following dawn, the colonists gathered by a large oak tree in the middle of an otherwise large clearing. There were a few dozen naturals among our number who would doubtless soon realise the consequences of their two friend’s actions.
Zombie Revolution Page 22
