Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [16]
14 April 1584
To Capts. Philip Amadas and Arthur Barlowe,
Everything necessary for the provisioning and rigging of two ships is being assembled and sent to the warehouse at Southampton. (Per attached inventory.)
Please review and inform me of any omissions or further requirements prior to your departure.
Yours,
Master W. Ralegh
P.S. In answer to your earlier query, I will not be sailing. The sea does not agree with me.
24 April 1584
To Capt. Arthur Barlowe,
I am pleased to hear all is ready for embarkation. I hereby charge you with the following duties on this voyage.
1. Record the particulars of your journey, your observations of the natives and their customs, and the flora and fauna of the land. Your descriptions must be positive, that those who read your account will be given to wonder, not to fear, and induced to support future expeditions.
2. Bring back a savage, the very finest of his kind. Let no force be used. In your dealings with the Indians, do nothing to offend them, but treat them with humanity, so they will be inclined toward friendship with us.
3. Survey the land for an outpost suitable for launching raids that shall serve two purposes: harassing Spain and financing our ventures. Remember, the risk itself brings reward.
Finally, although you and Amadas share the captaincy of this venture, you are to defer to the pilot Fernandes on matters relating to navigation, in which he has the greatest experience.
With every expectation of your success, I bid you bon voyage and await your return in the fall.
W.R.
Memorandum
Debts owed: Tailor, £125 (new cloak, shoes, suit & hat w. feathers)
Hostler, £250 (for 5 horses)
Armorer, £73 (one suit, including etching)
Salaries, £1,737 (for 35 men)
Income: Estates in Devonshire and Oxford, £625
Due from cloth exports, £87
Wine farm (due from last harvest), £330
Net owed: £1,143
Write to Carew for more funds & report on Devonshire investors.
Cannot find that damned handkerchief my royal mistress gave me. What if she asks about it? She likes to see her gifts displayed. Where did I lose that thing?
3 May 1584. At the Boar’s Head tonight, Dick Tarleton settled a dispute between two soldiers over a certain lady.
“You are a very peasecod, or should I say codpiece?” he said to one then reviled the other. “Your wit’s as thick as mustard and your brain moldy from lack of use.” When the combatants were shaken with laughter and consequently harmless, they dropped their fists and were made friends again.
How I admire that fool’s wit!
Later a comely wench offered herself to me, promising delights that not long ago I would have seized. Yet I declined them, which caused my drinking companion to mock my manliness. Remembering Tarleton’s jest, I called him a “green peasecod with no more wit than a mustard seed,” and upon realizing I had muddled the jest I threw the alepot at his head and kicked over the table.
Alas, where has my wit fled? Has love done this to me? Can I still write a passing good verse?
To C.A.
O lady whom I in silence serve,
Know the depth of my desire.
Only you I aim to deserve,
That your grace might slake this scalding fire.
Send me a secret token
To show the depth of your desire.
Say your love is not bespoken,
And with your grace, O slake my scalding fire!
After twelve days of silent torment, a letter! How firm her hand, how well-chosen each word.
Dear Master Ralegh,
I do not deserve your gracious attention. Yet I crave to hear from your lips more tales of sea travelers. Can a lady desire to be a discoverer?
My wealth being slender, I have no token of value to send you, but I declare I am not bespoken to anyone, save my royal mistress on whom my fortune depends. Therefore burn this in your scalding fire, lest it fall into an unfriendly hand.
The queen meets with her Privy Council tomorrow afternoon. I will devise some pretext upon which to visit you.
I remain your humble
Catherine Archer
She speaks of craving and of my lips, then in the next phrase of desire,