image
image
image

Chapter 6

image

LATER THAT EVENING, after Catherine and Nancy had retired to their room for the night, Catherine was sliding the window covering back to let in fresh air when a rap sounded at the door.

“Come in,” she called, expecting it to be Abigail inquiring if they needed a fresh pine-knot candle or a clean chamber pot. She was surprised instead to hear her brother’s voice.

“I’d rather you came out here.”

She quickly threw on her wrapper and entered the common room where he stood sullenly staring into the low-burning fire. “What is it, Adam?”

“Last evening you mentioned ‘purchasing’ the house from me. I . . . ah . . . wondered what exactly you meant.”

“Well, originally I thought to pay you from what I made teaching. I also have some English banknotes that might be worth something.”

He glanced up. “Left to you by your late husband, I presume?”

“No. I discovered the notes amongst Mother’s things after she died, so they are as much yours as mine.”

“I’ll have a look at them.”

Catherine hurried to retrieve the paper money. Handing the notes to her brother, she watched as he turned them over and over, studying the faded print.

“Appear genuine to me. There’s over twenty-five pounds here.”

“Fifteen pounds would buy you three indentured contracts, correct?”

“Fifteen pounds is more than my share.”

“Indeed, but I want more than just the house. I want the furnishings . . . chairs, beds, tools. And two more plank tables . . .” she glanced over one shoulder toward where the family took their meals, “. . . with benches. And I want sufficient provisions to see Nancy and myself through two winters. I also want an indoor oven and a window cut in that wall so I can see through to the forest.”

His gaze followed hers when she pointed to the opposite wall of the house. “I considered putting a window there,” he mused, “but decided against it since the draft in winter is apt to put out the fire.”

“Not if the window contains glass.”

“Glass.” His lips twitched, the first hint of a smile Catherine had seen on his face in two days. “There’s not a pane of glass to be found in Jamestown, Cat, but I could manage some nice oiled cloth. You can roll it up during the day, and at night, it helps ward off the chill. I’d also fashion a sturdier bolt for the door and windows.”

“Thank you.”

“You strike a hard bargain, sis. I suppose you also want Lad. Despite what I can provide for you, ye’ll still need someone to do the heavy work; chop wood, fetch water, the like. I’d feel a good deal better about leaving you and Nancy here if there were a male on the premises. Lad will suit.”

Pleased with the way the negotiations were going, Catherine grinned up at him. “Does the boy have a real name, Adam?”

“Joseph. John. He answers well to Lad or Boy.”

“Hmm. So . . . it’s settled?”

“This means a great deal to me, Cat.” Folding three of the paper notes up, he stuffed them into his pocket and handed her the remaining two.

“I’m glad I was here to help, Adam.”

Once back in her room, Catherine blew out the pine-knot candle and climbed into bed. But she was far too excited to sleep. Instead, she lay awake making mental notes for Jamestown’s first school for boys and girls.

* * * *

image

ON SUNDAY MORNING OF Catherine’s first week in Virginia, a bright sun peeked through the puffy white clouds overhead; a warm breeze drifted inland off the water.

Having arisen before dawn, the Parke household ate a hastily prepared cold meal, then disappeared to their respective bedchambers to don clean, fresh-smelling garb. Lad, after several prompts from Abigail, managed to water down his unruly hair. When the church bells began to peal, calling the colonists to worship, they all set out to walk to the Anglican Church located inside the walls of Jamestown’s fort.

Though Catherine’s gown was a hand-me-down from Lucinda, it was one of her finest, and Catherine especially liked the soft blue linen with its stylish slashed sleeves. The gown showed off her figure to advantage, and she thought the pastel blue looked especially lovely with her red-gold hair. She’d brushed it to a sheen and it now hung in soft waves down her back.

“What a beautiful gown,” Abigail remarked. “You’ll be the finest dressed lady at services.”

Casting his sister an appraising look, Adam nodded appreciatively. “Ye’ll no doubt turn heads this morning, sis.”

Catherine hadn’t been entirely certain she wanted to attend services today, fearing a face-to-face meeting with Noah and his wife. At breakfast, she’d feebly complained of a headache. But Adam had declared that attendance at Sabbath services was mandatory for everyone in the colony.

“There are stiff consequences for anyone who refuses to obey the governor’s mandate.”

“But what if one is seriously ill?” she’d asked stubbornly.

“A life-threatening illness would of course excuse one. But, as ye well know, a megrim is hardly life threatening. You’re lucky you were not here under Governor Dale’s rule when we were obliged to attend services twice a day! Now, I expect ye both to be ready in a quarter hour,” he added firmly.

As they drew near the walls of the old fort, Catherine worked to tamp down the apprehension that had beset her the minute she awoke this morning. She knew she would have to face Noah sooner or later, but she much preferred it be later, after she’d successfully set up her school and felt more confident of her position here in Jamestown. Now was still too soon, the wound to her heart still too fresh.

She glanced up shyly as other settlers joined their small party. Still, she saw no sign of Noah and his very pregnant wife.

As the church edifice came into view, Abigail motioned for Nancy to follow her. Both were carrying cloth-covered bowls of food they’d prepared the day before. Following services a colony-wide picnic would be held on the church green, mainly to benefit those new settlers who still lived aboard the ships anchored on the river. Catherine noted the long trestle tables loaded with bowls and wooden platters. Her stomach roiled not with hunger, but with anxiety over what lay ahead that afternoon. If not at services, she was certain to see Noah and his wife at the picnic.

As Abigail and Nancy hurried to deposit their offerings, the sight of Jamestown’s impressive new church captured Catherine’s attention. Though also built in the customary wattle-and-daub style, these timbers rested on a sturdy foundation of cobblestones, the first she’d seen since leaving London.

“Our original church burned to the ground a few years back,” Adam remarked as they all filed into the surprisingly spacious interior.

The elegance inside also surprised Catherine. With its polished pews and chancel of sweet-smelling cedar, it was the finest-looking structure she’d yet seen in the New World.

Before beginning to preach, Reverend Buck welcomed all the new settlers who’d joined the colony that week and issued a plea for those colonists who could to take in families who’d been living aboard the Inverness, as that ship was scheduled to sail for England on the morrow. Across the aisle from the ladies, on the gentlemen’s side of the building, Adam, along with a score of other men, raised an arm to volunteer space.

Catherine glanced at Abigail to ascertain how she felt about taking on the burden of additional people in their tiny house, but a slight firming of the older woman’s lips was all she detected. Catherine wondered if she or Nancy might already be acquainted with the family who’d come to live with them?

When the service got underway, she stood along with the congregation and joined in the singing and prayers. But she found it difficult to keep her mind on the reverend’s sermon so anxious was she to turn around and crane her neck to scan the congregation for Noah’s handsome face. Surely, she’d see him at the picnic. She also fervently wished to meet Deputy-Governor Yeardley for Adam had said she’d need his approval before she could move ahead with her school.

When the interminable service finally drew to a close, Catherine and Nancy joined those crowded around the trestle tables laden with delicious-smelling victuals. Those who’d lived the past week on the ships especially enjoyed the offerings: sliced pork and venison, roasted turkey, fried fish, pease porridge, beans and greens, and a goodly number of corn dishes. Catherine saw flatbread, bowls of spoon bread, and another sort of bread Abigail called “rye an’ injun,” as it was made from half rye and half cornmeal. For dessert, there were clotted-cream custards dotted with currants, and an assortment of berry pies and quince tarts.

As there were no benches or chairs, people stood in groups to eat, or sat in circles on the ground beneath the elm and oak trees. Not spotting Noah and his wife, Catherine’s spirits sank lower and lower as the afternoon wore on. Except for the brief glimpse she’d had of him the day she arrived in Jamestown, she essentially hadn’t seen Noah since she was a child. Although she knew he now belonged to another, she couldn’t stop herself from longing to gaze upon his handsome features.

Her attention strayed to her surroundings. A number of boys, Lad amongst them, and even some of the men had begun to play a spirited game of bowling on the green. Other men tossed quoits. It crossed her mind that there were very few children in the colony. Only a handful were running and playing, which meant the number of pupils in her school would be quite small. But that rather put her mind at ease, because the truth was that her experience as a teacher was . . . nil.

Adam introduced her to a number of colonists, who, despite the fact that he referred to her simply as “Catherine,” insisted on addressing her as Mistress Fielding. Apparently the false name she’d given the night she boarded ship was now set in stone, and everyone, including her brother, believed her to have once been a married woman.

Mulling the oddity over, she decided that to try and put the matter to rights now would do more harm than good. After all, how many of these God-fearing folk would trust a woman who told lies with educating their children? Moreover, telling falsehoods most assuredly went against the strict moral code that governed the colony, and she feared it might give the governor sufficient reason to withhold his approval for her school. At the very least, he would demand to know why she fabricated the falsehood, and might even send her back to England thinking she had committed a serious infraction and was attempting to hide in the New World as a means of escaping punishment.

Her idle thoughts drifted to studying the few women in the colony. Most, like Abigail, wore simple homespun skirts of faded blue or red stuff with the sleeves tied in the plain white bodice. Most wore close-fitting white caps. Only a few wore chip bonnets, though tied with frayed ribbons. Men dressed in a fashion similar to Adam; brown or gray gathered breeches with matching doublets or sleeveless jerkins over white linen shirts.

By contrast, the important town leaders were all finely turned out in red or green satin puffed breeches. Their doublets sported gold buttons, and most wore wide-brimmed plumed hats. A few wore shoulder-length periwigs. In their colorful finery, Catherine thought they looked like a handful of peacocks amongst a flock of brown geese.

When she saw two of the peacocks approach Adam and begin to speak with him, she thought he might be about to motion for her to join them, for surely one of the peacocks must be Deputy-Governor Yeardley. Watching the men, it occurred to her that the gentlemen seemed especially overwrought about something, making wide, sweeping gestures with their arms. At one point Adam did cast a gaze over one shoulder and looked directly at Catherine. She held her breath. He had promised to introduce her to Deputy-Governor Yeardley that afternoon.

Instead, her brother headed straight back to the family and announced it was time to leave. He told Abigail he was going aboard the Inverness to help retrieve the belongings of the family who’d be coming to live with them. He told her to put Lad’s things in the shed.

Nancy and Abigail headed toward the trestle table to collect their empty bowls, and Adam gave a shout for Lad, who was still playing with the other boys not far off. To Catherine, he said, “I’ll need a private word with you this evening, Cat.”

His grave tone alarmed her. What could be the trouble? And why had Noah and his wife not been at Sabbath services since Adam had said church attendance was mandatory for the entire colony? And why had Adam gone back on his promise to introduce her to Deputy-Governor Yeardley?

*****

image

THAT EVENING, SHE HAD to wait until everyone, including the new family, who, it turned out, neither she nor Nancy knew, had settled down in the loft for the night. As everyone had eaten their fill that afternoon, the womenfolk were spared the arduous task of preparing yet another meal that day.

When the house was finally quiet, Adam rapped softly at Catherine’s door and asked her to join him in the common room.

“I was approached by two of Yeardley’s councilmen this afternoon.”

“I noticed. I also noticed you did not introduce me to Deputy-Governor Yeardley.”

“The matter of your school will have to wait. A problem has arisen that is far more important. I need you to listen carefully, Catherine.”

“Very well, what is it?”

“Apparently Pocahontas’s father is grief-stricken over his favorite daughter’s death. Rolfe’s Indian women have told the chieftain what they know about Mrs. Rolfe’s death, and he has sent word that he is satisfied with the explanation, but the emperor’s brother, Opechancanough, who has a quick temper and is far more distrustful of the whites, has convinced Powhatan that not all is as it seems. It is his belief that John Rolfe purposely spirited his wife away to England and either killed her himself or had her killed.”

“Oh!” Catherine sucked in her breath, her eyes wide with alarm. “That is not true, Adam!”

“I know that, but they now view the fact that Rolfe did not return to Virginia as an act of cowardice and, therefore, proof of his guilt.”

“Well, someone will have to make them see the truth!”

“Indeed.” Adam looked at his sister. “Yeardley believes the only person who can do that is you.”

“Me?” Catherine cried. “Why, me?”

“Because you are the only person now in Jamestown who actually spoke with Pocahontas the night of her death.”

“But I know nothing!”

“Lower your voice, Cat. I don’t want to overset the entire household.”

She reached to drag up the chair. “I suddenly feel quite weak.”

He sat down on the edge of the stump before the hearth. “This is a grave matter, Catherine. It must be handled with diplomacy. The safety and future of the entire colony is at stake. We’ve lived peacefully with the Indians since Rolfe married Pocahontas. When she converted to Christianity, there was little to no resistance from her father. But now the Indians, at least some of them, think it may have all been a sinister plot to undermine Powhatan and confiscate his empire. Yeardley is overset to the point he intends to reinstate regimental drills.”

“Oh, my, this indeed sounds serious.”

“It is. The Indians fear that upon Powhatan’s death, Rolfe may claim that his child, Powhatan’s grandson, is the rightful heir to the entire kingdom. Some years back, when Captain John Smith was here, there was speculation that he intended to marry Pocahontas so that he and his heirs might inherit all the tribal lands. There are over thirty tribes under Powhatan’s rule, encompassing thousands of acres of land. It’s a preposterous notion, but the Indians’ fears must be put to rest or . . . there’s no saying what might happen. In the not-too-distant past, Indians have killed light-skins over far less provocation than this.”

“Oh-h!” Catherine wrung her hands. “I do not know what to say.”

“Well, you will have to think of something. A meeting has been arranged between you and Powhatan and his brother Opechancanough, in a few days’ time. I expect there will be a good many other werowances there. And a good many angry warriors.”

Catherine gasped. “You will be there, of course. Wh-what are wer-o-wan-ces?”

“I’m sorry. I forget you know nothing about the Indians. A ‘werowance’ is the Indian name for the chieftain of a tribe. Many tribes comprise the so-called Powhatan federation. The chieftains all have names, of course, but collectively, the leaders of all the different tribes are known as werowances. All the tribes comprising Powhatan’s empire live in separate villages up and down the river or hidden deeply in the woods. Most are friendly and peaceful and willing to trade with us, but some, like the Chickahominy, aren’t. Their warriors are fierce and stubborn.”

“But you will attend this meeting with me.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I have no part in this, other than responsibility for you.”

A pang of fear stabbed Catherine. “But, how can I manage without you there? I cannot do it, Adam! I cannot!”

“You have no choice, Cat. You have to do as Yeardley says. The safety of the entire colony is at stake. There are far more Indians than there are settlers; they could wipe us out on one rampage if they chose.” He sighed. “I often wonder why they haven’t. Every year, we encroach more and more upon their land, cut down trees, claim the land as our own, or trade useless trinkets for it. It’s clear to anyone we’re overrunning the Indians, driving them further and further inland, and still they do nothing to stop us. It makes no sense.” He paused. “Of course, until now, no white man has been accused of murdering the emperor’s daughter.”

Catherine could hardly comprehend this turn of events. “And these other tribes, the unfriendly ones, their chieftains and warriors will also be present at the meeting?”

“They will no doubt be represented.”

“The meeting will be right here in . . . in Jamestown, correct?” She hoped.

“No.” He shook his head again. “You are to go to them.”

“Where?” Her tone was horror-stricken.

“To Powhatan’s old village, Werowocomoco, where he used to live. It’s closer to Jamestown than Orapaks, where he now lives. He has agreed to meet you halfway. A group of white men will escort you. The chieftain understands a bit of English, but there will also be interpreters. I expect the Indians will ask questions and probe for answers until they are satisfied.”

Panic seized Catherine. “And if I do not answer their questions satisfactorily?”

He shook his head. “I can’t answer that one, Cat.” In a weary tone, he said, “Just be truthful. Tell them all you know.”

“Which is virtually nothing!” she cried. “The Indian women with Pocahontas the night she died know far more than I. Nancy and I were already on the ship.”

“Then your testimony will serve to corroborate what the Indian women have said.” He reached to squeeze her hand. “I’m sure it will turn out fine. But, between now and then, I advise you to pray to God for guidance. As I said, I won’t be there . . . but you will have one friend along.”

Her worried gaze became a question. “You mean Nancy is also to go?

“No, Noah will be there.”