Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [61]
“Is it so desolate and disagreeable here that none of you would return?” said White in disbelief. Then his tone became scornful. “I thought my men were made of stronger stuff. Or are you all afraid of Fernandes?”
There was silence. Were the men ashamed? Was even Ananias against his father-in-law?
“You are my councilors only. You may advise me on a course of action, but you may not command me. This decision is mine!” White’s voice was trembling with rage. “I will render it tomorrow. Now I dismiss you all.”
The assistants, including Ananias, left. After a few minutes I slipped into the house again. John White sat at the table staring at his hands. He knew his men had lost confidence in his leadership. I could imagine the lowness in his heart.
“I am sorry, Governor,” I said. There was no use pretending I had not overheard their conversation.
“How can I leave them?” he asked, sounding forlorn.
“Someone must go,” I said. “And no one is more likely than you to move heaven and earth to bring back what we need.”
“My daughter,” he said, his voice faltering.
“I will take care of Eleanor and the baby and see that they come to no harm,” I said. But I wondered how I could keep myself or anyone safe in this unpredictable land.
He nodded gratefully.
“People are fickle,” I said. “When you return, they will welcome you as a hero. Though some of them may have less reason to celebrate if they are hanged for treason.”
He looked at me with a wry smile. “You are wise and well spoken for a woman. The queen should regret sending you away. But I think her loss will someday be judged Virginia’s gain.”
I warmed at this praise, yet I would have traded every word of it to have John White stay at Fort Ralegh.
The next morning, Governor White called all the colonists together and announced he would sail back to England at once. He demanded an inventory, an accounting of the colony’s assets, and a list of its requirements. He ordered his assistants to preserve his maps, papers, books, and drawings, as they were of great value to him and to posterity. By asserting his authority in this way, he was trying to conceal that it had already been taken from him.
“Your welfare has been entrusted to me by God and by England’s queen,” he told the assembly. “And I promise I shall fulfill my duty to every one of you. It is not my desire to return to England. But I have been persuaded by my assistants that I am the best man to convince Sir Walter Ralegh to supply our needs.” He paused before resuming his speech. “There is some urgency, I grant you. And there is danger, for the growing hostility between England and Spain makes sea travel hazardous. Thus I understand why others … declined to make the voyage.”
The colonists glanced from one assistant to the next, wondering who had shown fear. Bailey and Ananias looked uncomfortable.
“Know, all of you,” the governor said, “I will not rest until I return, for my sole purpose will be the relief of this colony.” His voice broke, then gathered strength again. “I have decreed that in my absence, my seven assistants will govern with equal voices, and all matters are to be decided by the greater number of them.”
I thought that unlikely. Some voices, like Roger Bailey’s, were always louder than others.
“Let there be no dissension, but only a unity of purpose and goodwill among you,” he concluded.
It was a worthy speech. Some of the women dabbed their eyes. I clapped my hands and others joined in. A few people smiled, showing a forced cheerfulness. But the malcontents could not remain silent.
“When will we go to Chesapeake and settle?” called Ambrose Vickers. “We cannot trust the savages around here.”
John White replied with vehemence. “I said before, this is not the time. You have only the pinnace, which is too small to carry much. If you divide yourselves to make the journey in stages, or go by land, you increase the danger to everyone. I will return with ships and men and arms. In the spring we will