There is no credible evidence to support Smith’s assumption that the Lost Colonists were slaughtered at the hands of Chief Powhatan. Like the erroneous supposition that 1587 colonists were the “cloathed men” at Ocanahonan and Pakrakanick, the centuries-old Powhatan–Lost Colony slaughter myth was based entirely on another mistaken interpretation of information provided by Powhatan in 1608. That error was later compounded by the fragmentary details about the “slaughter” that William Strachey would add after he became Secretary of the Jamestown Colony in 1610. Strachey’s information came from one or more conversations with the aforementioned Machumps between 1610 and 1611 and would add a few more confusing details to Smith’s earlier version of the slaughter. Those additional details, supposedly about the Lost Colony, were included in Strachey’s Historie of Travaile Into Virginia Britannia. Based entirely on the fragmentary references from Smith, via Purchas, and Strachey, a misguided tale was woven about the fate of the Lost Colony at the hands of Chief Powhatan, and versions of that story have persisted for over 400 years.
17
The Francisco Fernández de Écija Reconnaissance
1609
Between 1587 and 1605 there had been no fewer than a dozen attempts, either planned or actually carried out, to locate the Lost Colony. Only two, and possibly three, of those attempts—the Vincente Gonzalez expedition to the Chesapeake in 1588, John White’s voyage to Roanoke in 1590, and possibly Samuel Mace’s voyage to Cape Fear in 1602—would produce any evidence at all concerning the location of the 1587 English colony. The Gonzalez and White voyages provided important information about where the Lost Colony was not located: As discussed in previous chapters, in June of 1588 the Lost Colonists were not at Roanoke or the Chesapeake, and in 1590 neither they nor the Croatoans were at Roanoke or Croatoan. The 1602 Mace voyage may have acquired information from the Cape Fear Indians about survivors of the 1589 hurricane and possibly admixed offspring.
By early 1607 the Spanish were once again concerned about renewed English plans for a colony in Virginia. On January 24 Spanish Ambassador Don Pedro de Zúñiga wrote to King Philip III about what he was able to learn about the English plans, and on March 8 the king replied that he had consulted with his council about what steps should be taken to prevent the English from colonizing North America.1 King Philip took no action, however, and, as previously mentioned, once Jamestown was established Zúñiga strongly urged King Philip to “up-root” the fledgling settlement even though the initial English reports from Virginia were disappointing. In September Zúñiga sent the king either the original or a copy of the Martin/Smith map of South Virginia accompanied by a report on Virginia, which may have been a copy of Smith’s A True Relation.2 On November 8, 1608, Zúñiga wrote yet again to the king, saying, “it is very important Your Majesty should command that an end be put to these things done in Virginia; because it is a matter of great importance—and they propose (as I understand) to send as many as 1,500 men there; and they hope that 12,000 will be gotten together there in time.”3
King Philip finally sent orders to Pedro de Ybarra, governor of Florida, instructing him to send a ship to the north and explore “the bays and ports which are in Virginia and its coasts” and discover “what English have gone there and with what designs and if they have established and fortified themselves in any part and with what people and forces.”4 He was to search the coast, sailing only by day and keeping always on the lookout, up to latitude 37° 30’ (Chesapeake Bay) where it was suspected the English may be planning to fortify themselves, and “likewise visit the isles in the Bay where people were found in the year 1586, when privateer Francis Drake took them with him on his way back to England,” a clear reference to Roanoke.5 He was also instructed to search the coast northward from the Chesapeake Bay to 44° 30’ north latitude, where a second English colony was rumored to be located. This was a reference to the previously mentioned Plymouth Company’s attempt to establish a trading settlement on the Kennebec River in present-day Maine, then called North Virginia. The Spanish did not yet know that the settlement attempt had been abandoned.
Thus in June of 1609, more than two decades after the 1587 colony was left at Roanoke, the Spanish would send out another search for the English, who were known to have settled once again in the territory which the English called “Virginia.” Although this reconnaissance was focused on finding the 1607 English colony, the details of the account inadvertently provided a few additional clues about the 1587 Lost Colony. On June 26, 1609, Governor Pedro de Ybarra sent Francisco Fernández de Écija from St. Augustine in the pinnace La Asuncion de Christo with twenty-three sailors and soldiers and an Indian woman from Santa Elena to serve as interpreter. Among his crew was Ensign Juan de Santiago, who had sailed with Vincente Gonzalez on the expedition to the Chesapeake, and inadvertently to Roanoke, in 1588. On July 8 Écija reached the Rio Jordan, either the present-day Santee River or Winyah Bay, and he remained there for a week gathering information about the English from the local Indians. At this time he also ransomed a Frenchman named Juan Corbe, who had been held captive for many years by an unnamed “cacique of those regions,” and who Écija hoped would be an additional source of information about the English.
The Indians provided Écija with information about Jamestown, which they referred to as “Guandape,” a very old Indian town believed to have been located near the Jamestown site. In 1526 Lucas Vázquez de Ayllón and 600 Spanish settlers had made their way up a major river in the Chesapeake, said to be the present-day James River, and landed at the Indian town of Guandape, which Ayllón christened San Miguel de Guandape. In less than a year disease and hostile Indians reduced their numbers to less than 200 and the Spanish abandoned the settlement in the spring of 1527. In any case, the Indians at Rio Jordon were able to provide Écija with an astonishingly detailed and accurate description of Guandape, or Jamestown. “An Indian chieftain and others” told Écija that four days’ journey northward there was a
settlement of the English in a village which is called Guandape, lying beside a river which runs into the sea, and it is on an island surrounded by water, which on one side is joined to the mainland, and that ordinarily there are ships in that port, and three months ago seven departed from it … and in the harbor there remained always some on guard, and every day many others came and went, up the coast to the northward, and that they had made a fort but that it was of wood, and they had made a league with the neighboring caciques … and they entertained them much and gave them clothes and tools and ordered them to sow grain, although the English themselves did not occupy themselves with this but with their fortification.6
After receiving this remarkable intelligence, Écija then resumed his slow reconnaissance northward and rounded Cape San Roman (Cape Fear) on July 17. By the time he was off the Cape of Trafalgar (probably Cape Lookout) on July 18, Écija’s pinnace was “dressed in her false colors” to disguise her as a vessel from Amsterdam. On July 19 Écija anchored off the Cape of Engano (probably Hatteras) and the next morning they came to a bar, “where the English, as we heard … had been in previous times.” There is some confusion about this location, but the chronology and geography suggest that it was Croatoan. Also, it will be recalled that in 1605 Écija had captured Bertrand Rocque, captain of the Castor and Pollux, who told the Spanish that part of his mission included a stop at Croatoan, where he hoped to contact some of the 1587 English colonists.
At Croatoan Écija witnessed an interesting occurrence. The Spanish saw “signals made by means of smoke” and a small group of Indians appeared on the beach and began drumming and shouting to the ship. When the Spanish called back, the Indians became fearful and ran back from the beach and then started playing on what Écija thought were flutes.7 A similar event occurred later when the Spanish were near Roanoke. Smoke signals were seen inland followed by Indians appearing on the beach and shouting to the ship. Once again when the Spanish called back, the Indians retreated, but soon a few Indians reappeared playing w
hat the Spanish described as pipes or flutes perhaps played in a European style.8
On July 24 Écija arrived at the Bay of Jacan (Chesapeake) where an English ship (possibly Samuel Argall’s ship, the Mary and John) blocked the entrance to the bay. Fearing that La Asuncion de Christo would be trapped in the bay, Écija withdrew and returned to Rio Jordan to gather additional information about the English, whose presence at the Chesapeake had now been established.
Back at the Rio Jordan the Indians confirmed everything they had said earlier, and Écija learned
that alongside the wooden fort they had cast much stone into the water, mid-leg deep, and that they brought it in boats, and that there were many women and children who went about through the fields and houses of the neighboring Indians, and that from the Rio Jordan to the settlement by a straight path overland it was little more than fifty leagues … from there to the place where the English are fortifying themselves, and the Frenchman whom they rescued declared that from the Indians of the town in which he was kept captive, who frequently went and came to the settlement of the English, he had learned that they had built a wooden fort and a town made of the same and had two large ships with guns, guarding the fortlike castles, and two others as guards and sentinels of the bar, in addition to those that went and came, and that every year a ship came from England laden with provisions and munitions.9
Since an English “league” was generally considered to be about three miles, it might appear at first that there was an error in the stated distance from Rio Jordan to Guandape/Jamestown as “little more than fifty leagues,” which would put Jamestown only about 150 miles from Rio Jordon, far too close. In the early years of the 17th century, however, the English and the Spanish “league” differed. The Spanish “league of the degree” (Legua de por grado) was equivalent to 4.88 miles.10 Fifty leagues, then, would be 244 miles and a “little more” by a “straight path overland” and would be closer to the actual 300 miles separating the two locations. Having verified the English presence at Guandape/Jamestown, and having gathered all the information he could about the settlement there, Écija returned to St. Augustine.
There are two areas of interest in the account with possible relevance to the Lost Colony. The first involves an inference drawn from Écija’s mission and the intelligence he gathered during the week of July 8–15, 1609. It is important to note here that, although the Spanish knew about the Jamestown colony in “Virginia,” they did not know exactly where that settlement was located, or whether the English might be found at more than one location. It was only after stopping at Rio Jordan on July 8 that Écija was able to gather the remarkably detailed information from the natives about the English who had settled at Guandape/Jamestown far to the north. It is interesting that he did not search—as instructed—“the isles in the Bay where people were found in the year 1586.” Écija may have been told that there were no English anywhere except Guandape, or he may have concluded that, since the Indians at Rio Jordan were able to provide such detailed information about Guandape/Jamestown, they would surely have known if there were any English in the vicinity of Roanoke or Croatoan, which were even closer to Rio Jordan than Guandape.
The native Indians in this area had always been unusually well-informed about English settlements to the north. It will be recalled that Pedro Menéndez Marques stopped near Santa Elena during his search for the English colony in May of 1587. The Indians told Menéndez Marques that there were no English anywhere, an accurate assessment in May 1587. Lane had abandoned Roanoke on June 19, 1586, and White would not arrive until July 22, 1587.
The Indians Écija questioned at Rio Jordon obviously had extensive knowledge of the English presence about 300 miles to the north, and they would also have known if English settlers dwelt elsewhere. They probably would also have known if there were English captives held among other tribes, as was the case with the Frenchman whom the Spanish called Juan Corbe. It seems reasonable to conclude from this alone, then, that the 1587 colony no longer existed as a recognizable English entity by 1609. Consequently, if any of White’s original colonists were still alive twenty-two years after their disappearance, they must have been very few in number and had been thoroughly assimilated by one or more of the tribes for many years. Likewise, if any of the eleven English children at Roanoke still survived in 1609, they must also have completely shed their “Englishness” over that time period.
What these Rio Jordan Indians apparently knew in 1609—that there were no other Englishmen than those at Jamestown—supports what has been proposed previously: a) that whatever portion of the 1587 colony remained after the potential failed voyage to Newfoundland had long since collapsed as a result of the 1589 hurricane surge; b) that no semblance of the colony remained thereafter; and c) that the few survivors were quickly assimilated by the neighboring tribes. This would also challenge the long held claim, first proposed by Hamilton McMillan in the late 19th century, that the 1587 colonists and their descendants retained their Elizabethan English identity, habits, speech, and many surnames down through the centuries where they supposedly could still be found in Robeson and surrounding counties.
The second, and more interesting, area of relevance to the Lost Colony in the Écija account is the series of events that occurred between July 17 and July 24.
As referred to above, there is a minor toponymic problem associated with Écija’s voyage up the coast, and it is often difficult to match the place-names from the early 17th century Spanish accounts with their modern counterparts. As noted, for example, the location of the Spanish “Rio Jordan,” where Écija spent the week of July 8–15, is generally believed to be the Peedee River or nearby Winyah Bay, but it has even been assumed to be as far south as Port Royal Sound near Beaufort, but that is refuted by the Spanish league measurements above. The map below, using the Spanish references,11 illustrates the probable chronology and locations of Écija’s movements between July 17, when he rounded Cape San Roman (Cape Fear) and July 24, when he approached the Bay of Jacan (Chesapeake).
Chronological map of Écija’s reconnaissance, July 17–24, 1609 (courtesy Michael Gayle).
The sequence begins with Écija’s decision to disguise his ship’s Spanish identity by sailing under the “false colors” of a Dutch ship from Amsterdam. That decision was probably made after Écija learned from the Indians at Rio Jordan that many ships “came and went” in the English harbor. The actual identity switch occurred on July 17 or 18, before reaching Cape Hatteras, and Écija’s obvious intention was to advance northward unmolested by whatever English ships might be in the area. Écija knew that the English would not be alarmed at the sight of a flag flown by a ship from the Netherlands. England had been allied with the Netherlands since 1577, and in 1584 Queen Elizabeth sent 7,000 troops to help the Dutch in their fight for independence from Spain. Écija’s ruse, however, seems to have fooled the local Indians as well. Of particular interest is the perception and reaction of the Indians at Croatoan (first contact July 20) and Roanoke (second contact July 23) when they saw Écija’s vessel sailing slowly just offshore.
It does not seem likely that the typical Croatoan/Hatteras Indian in 1609 would have been capable of recognizing the “colors” flown by a Dutch ship. Manteo, on the other hand, the thoroughly Anglicized Croatoan, had sailed across the Atlantic on four occasions: the 1584 Amadas/Barlow return trip to England, the 1585 Grenville/Lane voyage to Roanoke, the 1586 Lane/Drake return voyage to England, and the 1587 voyage to Roanoke with John White. During these many trans-ocean voyages, as well as his time spent in England, Manteo would have seen any number of “foreign” ships, and he probably would have become familiar with the “colors” of many. Whether Manteo was present or even alive in 1609, however, is unknown.
Perhaps the most realistic estimation about the Indians’ perception of Écija’s “colors” is simply that they recognized that the ship was not—or at least appeared not to be—Spanish. That alone would account for their fearful reaction when the re
plies from the ship came back in the Spanish language. The mistaken identity may also account for the unusually determined effort the Indians made to contact what they probably thought was an English ship … because they may not have seen one in many years.
With the exception of Captain Cooke and John White, who failed to reach Croatoan in 1590, there were no known English expeditions that had contact with either Croatoan or Roanoke after 1587. The 1604–05 Anglo-French expedition led by Jerome and Rocque had intended to stop at Croatoan, but had only made it as far as present-day South Carolina before being captured by the Spanish. Furthermore, although a few unsuccessful inland attempts were made in 1608 by the Jamestown settlers to find survivors of the 1587 Lost Colony, no vessels were ever sent from Jamestown to search Roanoke or Croatoan. The one reference in the Jamestown chronicles regarding English ships at Croatoan was part of a ruse by Edward Maria Wingfield, president of the colony, to deceive the Indians: “7 or 8 Indians presented the President a dear from Pamaonke [Pamaunkey] a wyrouance, desiring our friendshipp. They enquired after our shipping; wch the President said was gon to Croutoon [Croatoan]. They fear much our shipps; and therefore he would not haue them think it farr from us.”12
Wingfield had good reason to be wary of the local tribespeople. This incident occurred on July 3, 1607, less than two months after the English established “James Fort” and only about a week after Captain Newport sailed for England. A similar visit and offer of a deer had been made by Paspahegh Indians on May 14, and less than a week later the Paspahegh attacked the settlement. In this passage Wingfield was trying to convince the Indians that Newport’s ship was close by, when in fact he was well on his way to England. There was no English ship at Croatoan.
The Lost Colony of Roanoke Page 23