Becoming Americans

by Donald Batchelor

  "Tonight can be the beginning or the end for you, Boy," one of the men said.

  "Captain says we're to chance it with you tonight, but he leaves it up to us to judge your trust. He says you've asked for it. We'll find out."

  Richard was curious and frightened and excited. He'd had his ears opened by Anne's talk and by the Captain's intimation about Sawyer. He'd watched for strange doings in the last month and had only seen that these three Englishmen were frequently absent from work details on the site, and that any questions asked were answered by a sharp reminder to tend his own furrows.

  It was not a night of great adventure, though the work was stealthily and silently done. The men separated into two groups that rowed two shallops down the river to a waiting ship of Captain Ingolbreitsen's. Hogsheads of tobacco were hoisted and heaved onto the shallops, and then rowed back up and transferred to another ship of the Captain's that had papers to transport only port, shingles, and tar to Holland. They were back by dawn, and Richard had barely closed his eyes when it was time to rise and do his day's work.

  No mention was made to him of payment, and he didn't ask. The Captain had trusted him; he would bide his time.

  The task was repeated twice more that week and still nothing was said. In the middle of the second week, the Captain sent for him.

  Richard knocked and entered the cabin when summoned. The Captain didn't speak directly of the week's activities.

  "I've heard good reports of your work this week, my boy. Things look promising for you. You may, in time, win your prize."

  "Thank you, Captain."

  "Partly as a reward, and partly as a business proposition, I'd like you to take a little trip for me. We'll tell the rest of your crew that you've gone upriver to find a new source of tar before the worm season."

  Richard was still mystified by those weeks of June and July when worms attacked unprotected bottoms afloat in fresh waters. Only ships anchored in fastmoving currents or taken out to deep salt water for the season were protected. Smaller boats were pulled ashore for the duration, or were hauled up for a total scraping and heavy tarring.

  The reward and business proposition was an exciting trip to James Town. Again at night, Richard and the three other Englishmen were rowed to a waiting ship in the Eastern Branch. They, themselves, were the cargo this time. The ship weighed anchor and flowed with the tide to Hampton Roads, where she set sail up the James River to James Town.

  An English gentleman, George Manning, was waiting for them in the captain's cabin when they boarded. The plan he outlined was simple, and he spoke the details of the plan in a manner that suggested to Richard that this activity was a common practice and one that, for this particular gentleman, was routine.

  Their bodies were to give substance to the list of indentures Mister Manning held that, upon being registered with the authorities in the city, would entitle the gentleman to fifty acres per head. These headrights were negotiable instruments that entitled the bearer to fifty acres of unclaimed property. The English gentleman was simply an agent for Bartholomew Ingolbreitsen. Captain Ingolbreitsen would sell the contracts to planters or to investors desiring more acreage.

  In the morning, the four seasoned Englishmen joined the group of three children and two women who were newly arriving in the colony. Richard and the men looked at these frail creatures and agreed among themselves that none of these would survive a year. They spoke briefly to the frightened group, learning only that it had been a harrowing voyage that left them starving, the remnants of a collection being imported by George Manning. Richard and his cohorts were replacing four men who had died on the long voyage.

  Richard and the men lay under blankets when the inspectors came aboard in James Town to verify the lists. Their healthy bodies would have given them away, though the inspector passed by so quickly as he chatted with Mister Manning that they weren't even seen. The news was of the Assembly's recent decision to make this a real town of thirty-two new brick houses—large ones. It would be another failed attempt to construct towns in Virginia, the inspector said. The wealthy settlers were only here amassing wealth to carry home to England. There was no support for such town-building efforts by men of substance. Their plantations were on deep rivers, they traded directly, and had no wish for centralized markets.

  Again, Richard couldn't touch land and explore James Town. But, he and his friends could see the bustle of activity in the town, and were watching from the ship when the hastily raised beams for a new house collapsed, killing two workers. That night, as a construction site blazed on the far side of town, the four of them were transferred to another ship of Ingolbreitsen's that was returning to the Elizabeth River with supplies.

  This mission was repeated three more times that spring and summer, including—much to Richard's distress—the day and night of the May Day's Fair. He made no complaints to Captain Ingolbreitsen, but asked the Captain to deliver his present to Anne. He'd fashioned her a small chest of walnut wood that was polished and stained and rubbed with wax until it had a great sheen. He'd lined the inside with a piece of velvet for which he'd paid dearly to one of the Dutchmen. A latch was crafted with the initials "AB" carved into it at the suggestion and design of Captain Ingolbreitsen.

  "Tell her that I'm sick and asking for her," Richard asked the Captain when told he'd not be at the fair.

  "I'll tell her you're recovering from the flux and that you send your warm greetings to her and to her father," the Captain replied.

  By the end of summer, the courthouse was completed and Richard prepared to return to Pine Haven and resume his work for Francis Harper.

  The Captain summoned him for a final, private task.

  "Richard, there are few Englishmen under forty years of age that would step inside a church were it not for fear of His Majesty's sheriff, or of the wrath of a vengeful deity. Those who do claim a love for God and live according to the rules He lays down for them—whatever they decide those rules are—earn my respect. I'm not one of them, but I admire a man—or a woman, for that matter—I admire a man of courage. That's why I engage in this little business that we're about on this trip. True, there will be some money to change hands, but…

  "Tonight we load hogsheads for delivery to near the Biggs plantation. We'll stay the night there—you'll see your prize—and load on shingles for delivery up the Chesapeake when you're returned to Harper. The hogsheads that we load tonight will contain men. Like those on the sloop that brought you to Lower Norfolk County."

  Quakers! And Anabaptists! The captain was smuggling Dissenters.

  "Quakers…!" Richard began.

  "We'll not discuss the matter further, tonight. Things left unsaid cannot be repeated. We leave with the next tide."

  Richard helped gently load the four hogsheads for the trip upriver. He was the third Englishman now, since one of the men had been killed in a knife fight that had won Richard three shillings of English money.

  Gambling and drinking and fighting were the leisure pastimes of the work crews, and Richard had held his own over the summer. His private hoard of coins was growing, and he held notes for tobacco poundage that he would exchange for tools before he left Lower Norfolk County. The Captain still hadn't spoken of the payment for the extra tasks he'd performed, and Richard had decided to broach the subject on this trip.

  The hogsheads were light, and Richard wondered about the men inside. He wondered what had happened to the men smuggled down from Gloucester County when he came? But mostly, he was wondering about Anne. Had she grown more? Had she missed him this summer? Why had she and her father not been back to the parish vestry church all summer? He'd not seen her since the trip to her father's plantation.

  His questions were answered the next day. The sloop sailed down the Eastern Branch and up the Southern Branch of the Elizabeth River, just past the Biggs plantation and Deep Creek, to another channel on the western shore where two pirogues, lashed together, were pulled up onto the bank. The light hogsheads were transferr
ed to the pirogues and then rowed ashore. Immediately, they were opened and their contents emptied. Men crawled out and stretched themselves to stand up. One of them broke into sobs that could be heard back on the sloop.

  As one of the pirogues brought the captain back, there were cries of, "God bless thee, Captain." "Thank thee and thy crew, Captain."

  They docked at the Biggs plantation in time for supper. Hodges was there to greet them and to help secure the lines. He directed them to the manor house, but they saw Mister Biggs standing by an apple tree at the edge of his orchard. He hailed them over.

  "Have an apple before supper, men. Sarah will be furious if we have no appetite for her meal, so keep this to yourselves."

  Ingolbreitsen and Richard bit into the luscious fruit with relish. Such moments as these made Richard long for Pine Haven and the taste of fresh meat and vegetables. Though Harper's orchards were not yet producing, Brinson Barnes had always allowed them access to his trees, and no doubt, now that the orchard was Sawyer's, they would still have fruit.

  At these times Richard was torn between the thoughts of becoming a planter with access to natural riches like these, leaving himself always at the mercy of God's whims of rain and wind and cold, or whether to concentrate on his efforts at the craft of cooperage, where he could be assured an income, though there was no likelihood of wealth. Wealth in Virginia came through land, though Mister Biggs was making good use of all his timber. For now, Richard knew, it was cooperage that would earn him income to win Anne—aided by what he could amass in other ways. Anyway, Anne was the only child of Biggs, and this prosperous plantation would one day be hers. And that meant his.

  "You work our young friend hard, Bartholomew," Biggs said, looking at Richard. "You must think highly of him to use him for special duties. He must be privy to a great deal of your business."

  The Captain studied Biggs, searching for the base of the man's interest and comments.

  "I've found him to be industrious and trustworthy, John," he said.

  "Then I will speak freely and honestly with him, Captain. If you would give me a moment, I would speak to the young man while you go to the house and stuff our pipes and pour us a brandy."

  "You are generous and thoughtful, as usual, John," the Captain said. He turned and walked to the house.

  Richard was concerned. He waited for the worst.

  "Richard, you come to my home highly recommended. I know your uncle, John Williams—a devout vestryman of the Church of England. I have heard good things of your master, Francis Harper. I have heard the story of how you helped my father-in-law, Mister Ware. I've heard that story many times from Anne, though she always omits the part about your drunkenness. Now, I think you are engaged in dangerous undertakings.

  "I will speak bluntly, young man. For you are a man, now. And my fair, precious Anne is but a girl. She will remain a child for some years, though Mistress Hodges has informed me of things…of things that make this conversation necessary. You have put thoughts into her head that should not be in the head of a child."

  Richard tried to protest.

  "Stop!" Biggs said. "I do not mean to imply that you are deliberately…turning her thoughts to unwholesome subjects, but I am saying you have a man's body and thoughts, and she is a child. A child whose thoughts and speech are too much centered on you. The gift you sent her was thoughtful, and she would wish to thank you were she here…"

  Richard's heart fell further.

  "…but it was a gift too personal and too expensive for a grown man to give to an impressionable young girl. My concern has become alarm since Mistress Hodges spoke to me of…. I don't want you seeing Anne again. She became twelve years old this week. When she is fifteen you may ask my permission to see her. If you're still alive." He looked toward the captain's back. "Until then, I must insist."

  "But I don't understand, Mister Biggs!" Richard was puzzled and desperate. "I would never harm your daughter. I love her! I only want what is good for her!"

  "You are much too young to speak of 'love'! For you to use that word regarding such a young child—my only child—is, indeed, to endanger your very life, young man!"

  Richard could see that blood had rushed to the man's face and that he was surpressing a great rage. He suppressed his own rage and tried another tact. He lowered his head and spoke softly.

  "I am truly sorry, Mister Biggs, that you treat my words in a manner that dishonors me. My Uncle John is a vestryman and has taught me that we are all to love each other and, in that sense I said…."

  "I am no fool, young man! I know what you meant and I know your evil intentions! You should humble yourself before God and before me. Your uncle is an elder of the Church of England and should be more respectful of his words and his God! You will not see the child until she is fifteen and you have shown thy humility!"

  John Biggs turned and walked in great strides towards the house. Richard stood frozen, holding on to his rage to ward off the sadness that might engulf him.

  He walked into the orchard, thinking of revenge for himself and for his uncle. He picked another apple, then picked two more and stuck them inside his doublet. A servant of about his age was picking apples and putting them into an Indian basket. The young man questioned Richard about his identity, they talked, and Richard awakened before dawn in the servant's hut beside an empty jug of hard cider.

  He forced his eyes open and, despite the pounding in his head, he ran outside to empty the contents of his bilious stomach. He'd never felt so ill. He remembered little of the night of drinking that had brought on this vomiting and diarrhea. Did he have the plague? By sunrise, when the Captain came searching for him, he was weak, but his empty stomach had calmed.

  Captain Ingolbreitsen was gruff and short with him.

  "That's no way to impress the man you're so determined to win over. I question my own judgment of you," he said.

  By the time the shallop reached the courthouse pier, Richard and the Captain were speaking again. They'd eaten Sarah Hodges' pone and bacon, and they'd drunk from the Captain's flask of rum and sucked on lemons that the Captain supplied himself with in his West Indian trade.

  "No, you have no recourse, Boy. You must do as Mister Biggs says or you'll lose all chance of winning the girl's hand. And he's right, by God! She is merely a girl! Leave it alone for a few years. They'll pass quickly enough. You need to be getting experience from a real woman, you do. I'll fix you up with a lively wench tomorrow evening. That's my duty. And it'll be my parting gift for you!"

  Richard saw that the Captain was serious. The prospect was exciting and worrisome. He wasn't exactly sure what he was expected to do with a woman. Still, the thought was more exciting than frightening, and it occupied his mind throughout the next afternoon, as he helped the crew clean up the work site for the celebration of the completed building. His thoughts brought forth a bulging in his breeches that brought forth laughter from the other workmen. "Got a hernia, Boy?" "Leave a boot in your breeches?" "Looks threatening, Boy, best take matters in hand."

  He forced himself to think of John Biggs and what he'd said. He tried to think of what he, himself might have said to calm the man. But Biggs didn't want words. He wanted something that Richard found very hard to give: humility.

  "You'll not see the child until you have shown thy humility!" he'd said.

  "Thy" humility? Yes, that's what he'd said! "Thy" humility.

  Was Mister Biggs turning Quaker? Was that why he spoke of Uncle John and the Church? Would he make Anne wear those ugly, drab clothes? Maybe that was Mister Biggs's real objection to him then, that Richard was not a Quaker?

  He turned his thoughts away from a subject that he couldn't change today, and lingered on the subject of this evening's adventure.

  ***

  The wench had red hair curled in a great mass that fell to her shoulders. Richard was sitting in Captain Ingolbreitsen's high-backed chair when she entered the cabin. The Captain's present included the solitary use of his cabin for
an hour, as well as the cost of the wench.

  "Well, you're a big one, you are. Captain told me you were a boy." She closed the door behind her and bolted it.

  "It's so hot tonight, isn't it?" she said. As she slowly walked towards him, she untied the laces of her bodice and pushed her chest forward so that the laces loosened and her breasts were free to move against the low-cut blouse. She knelt at his feet and pulled at one of his shoes.

  "My name is Sarah," she said, and pulled off his other shoe. He thought briefly of the Quaker woman until this Sarah, reaching up to undo his belt, brushed against the rigid rise in his breeches. She stood again as she bent to unbuckle his belt, and her breasts slipped from her bodice and hung free.

  Impulsively, Richard reached for and grabbed onto each pendulous breast.

  "No! Please! Not so rough," she advised him. "We've plenty of time."

  But Richard knew he didn't have plenty of time, and when she opened his belt and slipped her perfumed hand inside, it was over for him.