New World, Inc.

by John Butman

  Whether this is how the kidnapped Indians actually felt and behaved is impossible to say, but it is certain that the Indian who avoided the kidnapping, and those who heard about it, had a different view. News of the event traveled quickly through the region and, as it spread, the details were exaggerated. A party of French explorers was travelling through Maine that July and met an Indian named Anassou. He told them about a fishing vessel that had lain off the coast and how the men aboard had killed five Indians “under cover of friendship.” From Annasou’s description, the French concluded that the ship must have been English and its position squares with Rosier’s accounts of the location of the Archangel.26 The memory of this incident of calculated violence against Indians lingered and affected relations between northern Indians and Europeans for years to come.

  Waymouth arrived in England in July and Rosier’s account, A True Relation of the most prosperous voyage made this present yeere 1605 by Captain George Waymouth, in the Discovery of the land of Virginia, appeared soon after, probably before the end of the year.27 The little book does not contain the standard dedication, which authors and their sponsors typically inserted to acknowledge, praise, and flatter their investors and royal patrons. Instead, the account begins with a preface titled “To the Reader.” In this, Rosier mentions Arundell—now first Baron Arundell of Wardour—and the “honourable gentlemen” and “merchants of good sufficiency and judgment” who had undertaken the project at their own expense. Also, he mentions that the investors had been “encouraged” by “the gracious favor” of His Majesty as well as “divers Lords” of the Privy Council. In other words, the Waymouth venture had been a private undertaking with informal support from James and his advisers.

  Whether the timing was right or the writing particularly enticing, the book captured the English imagination and created great excitement about potential plantations in north Virginia. Rosier was effusive about the new land, claiming that the St. George river was superior even to the Loire, Seine, and Bordeaux rivers in France—although he stopped short of favoring the American river over “our river of Thames,” which he hailed as “England’s richest treasure.”28

  Nothing, however, proved more compelling than the living proof: the Indians themselves, whom Rosier identified and described as Tahánedo, a sagamo, or commander; Amóret, Skicowáros, and Maneddo, all gentlemen; and Sassacomoit, a servant. All five survived the voyage and once in England were treated like visiting dignitaries. Two of them, Tahánedo and Amóret, were sent to the country residence of Sir John Popham. The three others, Skicowáros, Maneddo, and Sassacomoit, went to Plymouth, where they were welcomed by Sir Ferdinando Gorges and his family: his wife, Ann, and their two sons, John and Robert, aged about twelve and ten, respectively.29

  THERE ARE A few clues in Ferdinando Gorges’s history that perhaps explain why he took such a keen interest in the three American Indians. As commander of the Plymouth fort, he spent much of his time monitoring the ships and mariners in the city’s vital harbor, including those returning from far-off lands. Now that England was formally at peace with Spain, Gorges had plenty of time on his hands to consider projects beyond his day-to-day military duties. He was well-connected, since his family was related by marriage to many of the prominent Devonshire families, including the Gilberts, Raleghs, and Champernownes. Also, several members of his extended family had participated in a variety of overseas ventures: one cousin had sailed with Grenville on the first Roanoke voyage; another had been with Walter Ralegh on his search for the golden city of El Dorado in Guiana.30

  Born around 1568, Gorges was a second son, with no great reputation or fortune to his name, so perhaps he saw an opportunity for a signal achievement in his connection with the Indians. His elder brother inherited the family estates, while he received a relatively modest manor house, a gold chain, and one hundred pounds. In 1587, at the age of about nineteen, Gorges began a career as a gentleman-volunteer soldier fighting in France and the Netherlands. In 1591, he was knighted on the battlefield at the French cathedral city of Rouen by the Earl of Essex, but although Gorges had acquitted himself with valor, this honor was not exceptional: he was one of twenty-four men that Essex bestowed with a knighthood, largely to motivate them rather than to reward them for their bravery.31 In 1595, Gorges succeeded Sir Francis Drake as captain of Plymouth Fort, where his primary responsibility was to keep the fort and its garrison ready to defend England, particularly against the Spanish. It was an important position, although not a glorious one. Gorges was constantly dealing with tedious administrative matters, struggling to keep cordial relations between the crown and the town, and scratching together enough money to pay for soldiers’ salaries and repairs to the crumbling castle.

  It would not have been surprising if Gorges had merely hosted Waymouth’s Indians for a few days until they could be sent to London for an audience with the king or shipped back to America. It was normal practice for foreign visitors and dignitaries to be housed by leading courtiers and wealthy merchants. But Gorges became fascinated by the three Abenakis, noting with particular interest that they displayed “great civility,” well beyond the “rudeness” of the common people of England. This was a strikingly progressive view. Although Thomas Harriot had done much to help the English understand that Indians came from organized societies, spoke complex languages, had political and social networks, and were skilled in various crafts and disciplines, the English nevertheless continued to regard them as primitive people, calling them country men, wild men, naturals, savages, salvages, and heathens.

  The Abenakis stayed on with Gorges. He questioned them extensively and learned a great deal from them—about the people and geography of the New World, about the potential for trade and sustainable settlements, all of which he recorded, along with material supplied by Rosier, in a brief document called The description of the Countrey of Mawooshen.32 Above all, the Indians ignited his passion for colonial enterprise in the New World. Reflecting on this many years later, he observed that the arrival of the five Indians had to “be acknowledged” as an event of divine providence that ultimately gave “life to all our Plantations.”33

  While Skicowáros, Maneddo, and Sassacomoit lodged with Gorges and his family, Tahánedo and Amóret lived in Sir John Popham’s household. It is not clear how the two Abenakis fared there, because Popham was a hardheaded pragmatist, quite different from Gorges, who was an impassioned dreamer. A large, heavyset man described by one chronicler rather bluntly as “ugly,” Popham, in his seventies, had fashioned a notable career as a barrister, member of Parliament, and later as Lord Chief Justice, one of the top judges in the country.34 He had presided over the trial of Sir Walter Ralegh, and condemned him to a traitor’s execution: to be hanged almost to the point of death, then castrated and disemboweled while still conscious, then beheaded and chopped into four pieces. It was only through the clemency of James that Ralegh was spared this ghastly execution and sent to the Tower.

  It may have been the arrival of the Abenakis from Maine that further opened Popham’s eyes to the opportunities for colonization across the Atlantic. He had already shown interest in colonial activities, receiving a grant of land in Ireland in the mid-1580s. But he was not so much interested in increasing his own already substantial wealth as countering the scourge of poverty and idleness in England. Popham knew that, with the ratifying of the Treaty of London, large numbers of English soldiers fighting abroad would be released from duty and would flood back into England. He feared that this influx of “infinite numbers” of discharged soldiers would lead to greater unemployment throughout the land—and a rise in idleness, vagrancy, and thievery. As a result, there could be rebellion. The very state of England might even be threatened.35

  Popham, nearing the end of his life, decided to take bold action to prevent the crisis that he foresaw and secure his legacy. He knew that he would need royal approval for any colonial initiative, and so in early 1606 he contacted Sir Walter Cope, who was Robert Cecil’s right-hand
man and also famous across Europe for his fascination with New World affairs. Cope had been collecting exotic novelties for years and displayed them in a “cabinet of curiosities”—actually an entire room—filled with natural wonders, such as the horn of a rhinoceros, feathered headdresses, Virginian fireflies, and a Native American canoe.36

  Popham presented his plan to Cope and explained that his great aim was to do some social good by establishing a colony in north Virginia. Unlike Gilbert, Popham had the funds to support his mission. He pledged the fantastic sum of five hundred pounds per year for a period of five years to the American venture, the largest commitment in England by a single individual to such an enterprise at that time. Cope soon took Popham’s petition to his boss, Robert Cecil. Popham simply sought permission to call a meeting with merchants and other “undertakers” to discuss the American plantation, which suggests that he hoped the venture would also be a profit-maker in the long run. After conferring with the merchants, Popham would then develop a more detailed plan and present a formal proposal to the Privy Council.37

  Popham was not the only one thinking about American colonization at this time. The idea of a plantation in Virginia seems to have been in the air. The release of Rosier’s narrative coincided with a flurry of proposals for new expeditions. Indeed, talk of America was so widespread that it entered the popular imagination: Ben Jonson, Shakespeare’s friend and rival, cowrote a popular stage play, Eastward Hoe, that lampooned speculators and their dreams of making a fast buck in Virginia. Its characters claimed there was so much gold to be had there that it was used for making chamber pots, and so much venison—one of the preferred viands of the wealthy—that it was eaten like mutton.38

  JAMES ACCEPTED POPHAM’S proposal and signed a new charter—now known simply as the Virginia Charter, or, the First Charter for Virginia—on April 10, 1606. The charter provided investors with the same kind of authority granted to Gilbert and Ralegh: namely, to inhabit, plant, and create a colony in the territory defined as “that part of America commonly called Virginia” as well as any other parts of America “not now actually possessed by any Christian prince or people.”39 The chartered region ranged from 34 degrees north—South Carolina’s location today—to 45 degrees north—where Maine is today: in other words, between the northern limit of New Spain and the southern limit of New France.

  The charter made provision for two colonies, each with its own seal. The so-called First Colony was to encompass the region between the 34th and 41st parallel north, the Second Colony the region from the 38th to the 45th parallel north. Although this created an overlap, the charter specified that whichever company managed to establish the first settlement would be able to choose their preferred location. The other colony would not be permitted to make a plantation within one hundred miles of the first one. Once established, each colony would be entitled to claim the land around it, stretching fifty miles to the north and south, one hundred miles inland to the west, and to all islands within one hundred miles out to sea.

  By creating two companies, the architects of the charter were making a compromise between the two groups of investors: the merchants and courtiers of London and the men of the western outports of Plymouth, Bristol, and Exeter. For more than one hundred years, since John Cabot and his son Sebastian set off from Bristol, the merchants and seafarers from the West had pioneered the route across the Atlantic. It was not until the 1550s, and the collapse of the cloth market, that London’s merchants had begun the search for new markets that eventually led them to support expeditions to Muscovy, the Levant, and the Northwest Passage.

  Now the two groups were brought together—under the auspices of Robert Cecil—in an uneasy alliance that reflected their quite different interests. The London, or First Colony, investors wanted a permanent base in the same latitudes as the lands of the Mediterranean, where they could produce dyes for the cloth industry and access the other products of this region: wines, currants, sugars, spices, silks, and other luxury commodities. The Second Colony merchants sought a permanent location to conduct a year-round trade in fish, fur, timber for shipbuilding, and the train oil—derived from whale and seal blubber—used in the cloth industry. After peace with Spain, it had been expected that a busy trade with the Iberian Peninsula and the rest of the Mediterranean, accessed through the Straits of Gibraltar, would recommence. In 1605, a new charter for the Spanish Company was drawn up, and more than 550 merchants from London, Bristol, Exeter, Plymouth, and various other towns and ports were listed as members.40 But in 1606 this collapsed, dashing the hopes of merchants ready to renew their trade with the Mediterranean. It meant that the plans for a colony in Virginia took on a new importance.41

  Considering the great number of listed investors in the charters of the Spanish and other companies, it is striking how few names are registered in the Virginia Company charter: just eight, and none of those were great merchants or great courtiers. The First Colony was chartered to Richard Hakluyt, a clear reward for his advocacy of Virginia over so many years, as well as to George Somers, a privateer, and two soldiers, Sir Thomas Gates and Edward Maria Wingfield. The Second Colony was chartered to Raleigh Gilbert, Sir Humphrey’s son, along with George Popham and Thomas Hanham, Sir John’s nephew and grandson respectively, and William Parker, the privateer, former mayor of Plymouth, and investor in Waymouth’s 1605 colonial expedition. These men, however, were not the real organizers, the actual owners, of the enterprise. Seven months later the names of the true architects of the Virginia Company were unveiled. In November, James issued “articles, instructions and orders” for establishing “the good order and government” of the two colonies, and with these, he created a royal council, comprising fourteen “trusty and wellbeloved” gentlemen, who would take charge of governing Virginia in his name.42

  The King’s Council of Virginia, as it was called, represented a major change in the way colonial enterprises were to be run. Elizabeth had approached foreign ventures in a cautious way. She articulated no clear strategy, preferring to support individuals and their private enterprises rather than proactively pushing forward her own vision. Now James signaled his intention to do things differently. With a royal council, the Virginia Company and its colonial enterprise was transformed into a national endeavor, one with direct association to the king—and its members were the new leaders in society. These included Sir Walter Cope, representing Sir Robert Cecil, and Sir Francis Popham, representing his father, who was suffering from painful kidney stones and in no fit state to attend regular meetings. There were several royal servants, including Sir Ferdinando Gorges, Thomas West, the solitary nobleman as third Baron De La Warr, and Sir William Waad, who commanded the Tower of London. Also, among the merchants, there were three leading members of the East India Company: William Romney, John Eldred, and Sir Thomas Smythe.

  Smythe’s appointment to the King’s Council capped a remarkable transformation in his personal fortunes. For the best part of two years, he had languished in prison, having been erroneously accused of taking part in an attempt to overthrow Elizabeth. He only won his freedom after Elizabeth’s death in March 1603, and two months later, he was knighted by James, ironically in the Tower where he had spent so much of his time. Thereafter, he was restored to the governorship of the East India Company and was further reinstated into the commercial and political life of England with his appointment as special ambassador to Russia. He spent ten months there and returned home in triumph, having secured new trading privileges for the Muscovy Company. He arrived back in England amid this renewed excitement about Virginia.

  Whatever Smythe’s capabilities, the King’s Council and its composition did not sit well with the merchants of Plymouth and others of the Second Colony group. They had assumed that they would be granted “free and reasonable” terms similar to those that had been held by “a certain particular gent”—meaning Walter Ralegh. Instead, they found themselves under the direction of a royal council dominated by London merchants and courtiers who h
ad little knowledge of their “proceedings.”43 What’s more, all council business was to be conducted from London, which, at the very least, was an inconvenience for the Plymouth contingent. One seasoned transatlantic adventurer later quipped that there was “near as much trouble, but much more danger, to sail from London to Plymouth, than from Plymouth to New England.” In other words, making the trip from the West Country to London by ship was almost as daunting as crossing the Atlantic.44

  The simmering rivalry between the London and Plymouth investors was about to reach boiling point as the two companies prepared to launch their separate colonies. They knew only too well that whoever got to Virginia first would have first-mover advantage. The London investors, richer and more established, might have been expected to get off to the faster start. But it was John Popham, the feared Lord Chief Justice, and Ferdinando Gorges, his ally on the King’s Council, who got their ships out of the harbor first.

  16

  A PUBLIC PLANTATION

  THE PLYMOUTH COMPANY, first off the mark, was the first to run into trouble.

  Popham and Gorges each had agreed to sponsor, organize, and fund one ship that would sail separately, rendezvous on the coast of Maine, and proceed together in search of a suitable location for the proposed plantation.

  To serve as captain of his ship, the Richard, Gorges selected Henry Challons, a man he described as “a gentleman of a good family, industrious, and of fair condition,” which sounds rather like the characterization of Hugh Willoughby, who was more gentleman than sailor.1 Gorges gave explicit instructions to Challons and the ship’s master, Nicholas Hind, to sail a northerly route to Cape Breton (Nova Scotia) and then follow the coast south. Gorges sent along two of the Indians who had lived with him, Sassacomoit and Maneddo. They were to guide Challons when they approached the mainland. Gorges had complete faith in the Indians as “exact Pilots” who knew the coast well.2