Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [107]
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 homespun.
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.