Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [44]
If you cannot forgive me, I wish you to find a worthy husband among the brave men seeking their fortunes in Virginia. John White has been entrusted with the means to enable you to live comfortably there.
Send me a reply before the Lion sails. Until then I will live in hope.
Your penitent servant,
Walter Ralegh
Chapter 17
The Lion Sails
I stood on the wharf on a morning in late April, ready to begin a new life. I shaded my eyes against the sun. After so many weeks in the Tower, the light seemed painfully bright, the noises sharp and loud. The air smelled of fish and tar, wet ropes, and the promise of adventure. Before me was a freshly painted ship with three masts so tall I had to crane my neck to see the tops.
“She’s called the Lion,” said the guard who had brought me from the Tower. The sight of the ships made him talkative. “By the look of ’er she’ll carry about 120 tuns.” To my questioning look he replied, “A tun is a hogshead that’ll hold 252 gallons of wine. She’s a merchant ship, but ye will see the gunports there ’tween the decks, four on each side. She’s got two anchors and a spare; just don’t lose ’em all.” He laughed and went on. “A Spanish galleon be much greater, but not so swift or steady; should ye meet one on the high seas it’ll be like a bear that’s tied to the stake, with the hound nipping and tearing at it until he brings her down.”
He glanced at me. I must have looked pale. “Don’t mean to frighten ye, lady. I’m saying the Lion here be like the dog that can run from the bear.”
I gulped at the thought of being attacked by Spanish ships. “Doesn’t the bear sometimes kill the dog?” I said.
“In the arena, you mean? The queen loves the sport, don’t she. Bearbaiting.” The guard launched into this new topic while I studied the smaller ship moored beside the Lion. Three gunports faced me. I wondered how many guns were mounted on the Spanish merchant ships.
“Would the Spanish attack a ship carrying only men and food and building supplies?” I asked.
In reply, the guard pointed to the soldiers standing on the quay wearing helmets, brass gorgets over their leather jerkins, and swords at their belts.
“Them will protect ye. There be dangers on land even if ye escape those at sea, that’s for certain.”
I turned away to watch the ships being loaded. With seeming ease, workers slung great bundles and firkins on their shoulders or backs, treading the narrow planks that led from the wharf to to the ships’ decks. Men shouted to one another, and cargo thumped and banged the decks as it was lowered into the hold. Two men struggled to push a cannon onto the Lion. A soldier lent a hand while the others leaned against a barrel and watched. The boarding planks threatened to break under the weight. A cart carrying a blacksmith’s forge nearly crashed to the quay before it was brought under control.
I saw my fellow voyagers gathering. Some wore woolen cloaks and the plain garb of tradesmen and carried their possessions in bundles. Others were dressed like gentlemen fresh from court. My attention was drawn to a wide-shouldered young man who carried himself like an eager child. He smiled at me and I saw he was simple-minded. I returned the smile, thinking he was an unusual sort of colonist. An older man I took to be his father put a hand on his shoulder to calm him.
I wondered what these men would think of me. Would I be accepted among them, and on what terms? I watched servants carry bedding, pots and pans, and even furniture on board. I had few possessions and no money. Would I have to work as a servant to earn my livelihood?
“Get yourself aboard now, lady,” said the guard. “They’ll be weighing anchor before the tide turns.”
But I hesitated, suddenly unwilling to leave the country where I had lived my entire life. Though I had no one who desired me to stay, it pained me to go away. The prospect of being the only woman in a colony of men—and a servant to boot—also filled me with misgiving. How could Elizabeth, who had treated me like a daughter,