A Roll of the Bones

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A Roll of the Bones Page 12

by Trudy J. Morgan-Cole


  “How glad you must be that I give you no worries on that account,” Nancy said with a grin.

  “Not for lack of trying on George Whittington’s part.”

  “That great lummox! Never mind Cupids Cove; we’d have to be living at the end of the earth before I’d look twice at the likes of him.” Nancy attacked the wooden floor briskly with the twig broom as she spoke. “The arrogance of some of these fellows—only to think that because we’re out here, any woman would be glad to have them.”

  “More choice for you maidens than for the men—there are far more of them to choose from. And more coming soon, if Willoughby’s men from Renews come to winter here,” Kathryn said.

  “Do they not mean to winter down there, then?”

  “They hope to, but there has been so much trouble with pirates down along that shore that the masters fear it may not be safe to remain there.” Kathryn removed the iron pot filled with bread dough from the hearth and turned the dough out on the table to knead. “If the rest of the apprentices are as ill-favoured as the ones who came over on the boat with us, they won’t add much to the choice for you spinsters.” A few of Sir Percival Willoughby’s apprentices had come over with the women to Cupids Cove, but most, including his agent, had gone to the Renews site on another ship. The ones who had come to Cupids Cove had proved almost as much of a distraction to the colony as the arrival of the women had. The new men were apt to complain, and lacked the hard-working attitude of those who had already survived two years together in the colony. They had been put to work alongside the summer fishermen, catching and curing cod during these warm months, while the more established colonists worked at clearing land and building houses and boats. The daily work of tending the gardens and caring for the livestock, along with tasks like weaving, brewing, and cheesemaking, had largely been taken over by the women.

  It was the height of summer now, and on most days the cove was a beautiful place. It was beautiful this morning as Kathryn and Nancy stepped out into the fresh, bright morning and headed to the garden. The sun was clear and sparkling in a sky bluer than any English sky, Kathryn thought—though perhaps it was only that you could see so much more of the sky here than you could in a town like Bristol. The sun reflected off the water, casting back images of a thousand diamonds. It was generally warm enough to work with sleeves rolled up, and nobody thought of throwing on a cloak until evening.

  This present run of good weather had lasted nearly a fortnight; before that there had been cold rain and fog every few days, but Kathryn hoped that now it was August, the foggy chill was behind them. If they could enjoy such fair weather through until harvest time, the gardens might do well despite the thin soil, and they would eat well over the winter months.

  She and Nancy worked alongside the other women in the gardens all morning, pulling the weeds that seemed so much tougher and hardier than their vegetables. A little before noon, Ned Perry stopped by the garden fence to announce, “A ship is coming into the harbour. Master Nicholas thinks it may be the governor returning.”

  John Guy had been absent from his colony several times since his arrival from England, voyaging up and down the coast, bringing supplies and men back and forth between Cupids Cove and the new colony at Renews. Everyone was eager for the governor’s return, not least the couples hoping to be married, for the minister he had brought over from Bristol had gone to the new colony at Renews. “There’ll be time for marrying in autumn,” Elizabeth Guy had told the young women. That there might be time for tumbling before anyone got around to saying vows did not seem to have occurred to her.

  Everyone in the settlement—more than a hundred people now, with the addition of the summer fishermen who were staying in the cove—left off their chores and gathered at the wharf to see the approaching ship. “I don’t say that’s the governor’s ship,” one man opined. “That don’t look like her. ’Tis an English ship, though.”

  “Not pirates, I hope.” Thus far, despite all the tales of Easton’s clashes with the French further up the coast, Cupids Cove had not been troubled by pirates, but the thought of the marauding ships flying the black flag was never far from any of the settlers’ minds.

  The ship proved to be neither Governor Guy nor a pirate ship, but once its men had rowed into the harbour, they had news of both. They were from an English fishing vessel, and they brought word that Governor Guy, on his way to Renews, had been attacked by pirates, and that one man of the governor’s party had been shot and killed. Nobody knew who it was; four of the original colonists and four new apprentices had been on the boat with John Guy.

  “We heard your governor is going on to Renews, but he’s pulling all his men out of there, bringing everyone back here. ’Tis not safe down there on the south coast, no more than it is in Trinity Bay or out by Harbour Grace,” the captain of the fishing vessel said. “We were boarded and robbed a fortnight ago. All the fish we’d cured, and all our supplies, taken at gunpoint. Seems ’tis mostly men they’re seeking, though, to man their vessels, and those that won’t willingly turn pirate are pressed into service. We fought them off, but our captain asked the governor if we might stay here with you the rest of the summer. Cupids Cove seems to be the one place that’s able to defend itself against pirates.”

  The captain made this speech to Philip and Nicholas Guy, down on the wharf. Only those standing nearby—like Kathryn, who claimed a spot near her husband—could hear everything he said. All around them, the shore rippled with the noise of people turning to their neighbours, repeating what they had heard and passing it along. Kathryn wondered how the story would be twisted, how many of John Guy’s men would turn out to have been killed by pirates, by the time the whispers reached those on the furthest reaches of the crowd.

  “I am going to stand watch tonight, sweeting,” Nicholas Guy told Kathryn over supper in their house. “We’ve divided the men from each house into watches. Some of us will be out on Spectacle Head, and the rest manning our guns here in the cove. Sam Butler and his lads will come on watch at midnight.”

  “Is it really needful to have men stand guard all night long?”

  “We truly do not know what these pirates are capable of. We thought we had made peace with them, but if they have attacked our governor, then we know we cannot rely on any bond they make.”

  “What will you do if you see them approaching?”

  “Those of us out on the Spectacles will fire a musket to warn those on watch here in the cove. They’ll rouse the rest of the men so we will be prepared to fight.” He stood up from the bench where they sat together by the hearth and looked down at her. “Are you worried? Do not fret, my little wife. ’Tis only for caution’s sake—they may never come here.”

  He had begun calling her that, his little wife, only since she arrived in Cupids Cove. Back in Bristol, they had still been too new to each other for pet names. When she came off the boat and into his arms here in the New World, almost his first words had been, “Poor little wife—to suffer the loss of our child, and I so far away from you.” She still felt as if Nicholas Guy were a stranger, but he was a kindly stranger, who called her sweeting and little wife and told her not to fret. And he was a fine-looking man, and seemed brave and fearless when he talked about standing guard and being ready for pirates.

  After dusk fell, and her husband and the other fellows had gone to stand watch, she sat by the hearth fire with Nancy and Daisy. Bess and Molly were abed after a day’s hard work, but Kathryn was wakeful and wanted to talk. Nancy thought the whole threat of pirates was made greater than it needed to be, but Daisy said, “Matt thinks the stone wall ought to be higher—twice the height it is now.”

  “’Tis not Matt Griggs’s place to be making judgements of that sort. If the masters think we need more guards, they’ll set guards, and if they want higher walls, they’ll tell the men to build them,” Kathryn said.

  A noise stirred the door, and the three women startled, but it was only Ned, who had come back to the house for pipe
tobacco and a flask of aquavit. “All quiet at the harbour,” he reported.

  “Of course ’tis all quiet. There’s no need for all of ye to be down there all night anyway,” said Nancy.

  “What if all ye men are down watching the harbour, and we gets attacked by savages in the woods?” Daisy said.

  “We’ve nothing to fear from the natives,” Ned said, but Kathryn disagreed.

  “My husband says the natives attacked James Fort, down in Virginia, after they had been trading with the colonists and all. If it could happen there, why not here?”

  “I’m going to bed, Mistress,” said Daisy. “With luck, I’ll fall asleep and forget to worry about either pirates or savages.”

  Ned still lounged in the doorway after Daisy had slipped away to the bed she shared with her sisters. He seemed in no hurry to get back to his post.

  “Could you have imagined, back in my father’s house in Bristol, worrying about attacks from pirates or wild men of the forest?” Kathryn wondered aloud. “In truth, it does make me wonder if this land is fit for Christian souls to live in.”

  “Hush now,” Nancy said. “I know I was the one who never wanted to come here, but here we are, and there’s no good talking of what might have been. We must take the New World as we find it—pirates and natives and all.”

  “I don’t think we’ve much to fear from the natives, truly,” Ned said. “Englishmen have been fishing here for years and had little to do with them. ’Tis the Christian men like Peter Easton who burn and kill and steal from other Christians. Perhaps the natives in Virginia are a more warlike bunch, but I’d say when we meet the ones round here, we’ll find them gentle as beasts of the field.”

  “Beasts will attack if they see a threat,” said Kathryn.

  “Mistress, please, let up with the talk of savages and pirates and wild beasts, will you?” came Daisy’s voice from the bed. “Our Bess has been lying here listening to us talk, and if you says anymore about it she won’t be able to sleep at all, not a wink.”

  Ned went back to his watch then, and Kathryn and Nancy each to their beds. Kathryn woke after midnight, when she heard men’s voices and footsteps at the door. The men coming off their watch, bidding each other good night, taking to their beds. The door closed a final time, and she heard her husband’s steps cross the floor to their bedchamber. He drew the bed curtains aside and sat down beside her.

  “Is all well?” she asked softly.

  He pulled off his boots with a little grunt. “Well indeed,” he said. “As peaceful as ever.”

  “I felt safe, knowing you were out guarding us.” She wasn’t sure she actually had felt safe, but it was what he would want to hear. And she knew he wanted her to turn towards him, awake and willing. He was eager for her body, as what man would not be after two years in this desolate place? He was eager, too, to get her with child again, to have a healthy heir to replace the lost baby.

  The thought of going through that agony again made her cold with terror. But there was no escape for it, so despite her fear she offered herself to her husband whenever he came asking. He was a handsome man, she reminded herself, still fairly young and quite well-made. And he treated her with kindness. She knew of men who beat their wives, or who treated them with cold disdain. Things could be much worse.

  Silly tales in romances—how Kathryn had loved those! She missed the players who came to Bristol in the summer, when she had swooned at the thought of someday finding a Troilus or a Paris. In plays and romances, beautiful women fell in love with men who would fight wars and defy gods for them, and in the same stories men were cursed by witches or enchanted by fairies. Such tales were far removed from the world she had grown up in, the sensible grey streets of Bristol. Great passion, like great adventure, was not for folk like herself or Nicholas Guy.

  Only as she fell asleep later, in his arms, did the thought strike her that she was, now, living in a tale out of legend. They had left Bristol, crossed the ocean; they were the first English people to settle and tame a strange land. At their backs stood a wilderness filled with beasts and wild men, and before them an ocean sailed by deadly pirates. If ever a witch was to curse you or a fairy to charm you, it would happen here. They were living in a story.

  The new day brought lowering grey skies and the threat of rain. It was cooler than it had been, the wind blowing in off the choppy seas, and Kathryn wrapped up in a cloak as she went about her chores. About midday, while she and Nancy were spinning wool along with several other women in the large dwelling-house, they heard a shout from the wharf. Just as it had the day before, a ship had been sighted. But instead of the interest and curiosity that news had aroused the day before, a ripple of fear spread through the working women.

  Matthew Grigg stuck his head in at the door. “Master Philip says, get all the women and the children into the one house, and all the men down to the harbour!” he called.

  “Should not everyone stay within the wall?” Elizabeth Guy cried. All the women—those who were spinning, and the ones who were preparing the evening meal at the long table—stopped their work. Though Matt had said “the children” there were, of course, only two: Mistress Guy’s own, James and Harry, playing on the floor at her feet. She gathered them to her skirts now, distracted by her concern for them. Elizabeth Guy was the most well-born of the women in the colony, and older than many of them. But she was, at the moment, distracted by care for her children, while Mistress Colston and Mistress Catchmaid were in another dwelling-house. Kathryn stepped forward and faced the women.

  “’Tis for the men to decide how best to defend us,” she said. “We have our orders—close the shutters and put the bars on the door, once we get everyone gathered in here.”

  Nancy offered to run outside and give the alarm, to bring the women into the main house for safety. Kathryn held the door open as the women scurried in from all corners of the settlement—save only the mill and brewhouse, which were far away from the dwellings, down near the stream that ran into the saltwater pond. If any of the women were down there, they would have to look to their own safety.

  As the other women came in, Kathryn watched the bay. There was a ship still quite far out, too far away to guess whose it was. When Nancy had ushered in the last two girls, Nell and Hetty, Kathryn gathered up her skirts and hopped up on a bench, clapping her hands for attention. Mistress Colston and Mistress Catchmaid were there now, as well as Elizabeth Guy, but none of them stepped forward to take command.

  “We must see if we are all here!” she called, and the chattering stilled at the sound of her raised voice. “Everyone stay quiet and in one place, and the mistress of each household, count the women who live in your house to be sure everyone is present.”

  “All of us are here,” Mistress Colston said, and, “All the maids from my house are here,” said Elizabeth Guy. Her smaller son, Harry, was gurning and whining in her lap, having guessed from the women’s tones that something was amiss. Kathryn kept to her perch on the bench, looking for Nancy, Bess, Molly, and Daisy. She could only see one of the twins, and as she was only just learning to tell them apart she did not like to say at once which was missing. But the one who was present must have been Bess, for she let out a little shriek and said, “Where’s our Molly?”

  “She were tending to the goats,” said Daisy, “last I saw her.” She slipped an arm around Bess’s shoulders.

  “I ran right past the goat pen and saw no sign of her,” said Nancy.

  “We ought to have took in the goats, and the rest of the livestock. If they’re out in the pens, they’ll be taken by the pirates!” shrilled Sal Butler.

  “Well, if it turns out that ship is not a pirate ship, we have learned a lesson and we’ll do better next time. If it is, then the livestock will have to take their chances. But we cannot leave a woman outside, if there’s any way of getting her to safety,” Kathryn said. She kept her perch on the bench and, in truth, somewhat relished the view, looking down on the others and giving them orders. “
Bess, Daisy, is there any chance Moll might have gone down to the mill or the brewhouse?”

  “She’d not have been down there alone,” Bess said, ready to burst into tears. “We always went together.”

  “I’ll go find her,” Nancy said quickly. “I don’t believe ’tis a pirate ship anyway, and if it is, they’ll not be ashore yet.” As she left, the other women gathered at the windows, peeking between the shutters as the ship drew nearer, put down its boats. There was no sign of action from the men onshore, no warning shots fired.

  “I’m sure it flies an English flag. ’Tis a fishing vessel, just like the one that came yesterday.”

  “If it is Easton, and he has enough men to overpower ours, he’ll burn this place to the ground.”

  “Hush that talk, now.” Again Kathryn wondered at her own boldness, taking charge of these women, issuing orders.

  Down the path towards the dwelling came Nancy, holding a red-faced Molly by the hand. “I was in the privy,” Molly told them as she came through the door, “and I heard all the shouting, and I was that scared, I couldn’t bring meself to come out. I thought I’d be as safe there in the privy as anywhere, and when Nancy came hammerin’ at the door I thought ’twas a pirate, and I said my last prayers, and then she hauled the door open and dragged me out.”

  Ripples of nervous laughter spread through the room as Molly’s sisters gathered her into their arms. That broke a little of the tension; Nancy’s announcement broke more. “We saw Matt and Tom on the way. They said the men are certain now ’tis no pirate ship, though they want us all to stay barred in until they know for certain who is on board.”

  Who was on board turned out to be their own governor returning from his adventure. The word went out to release the women, and everyone poured down to join the men on the wharf and hear John Guy’s story.

  He had, indeed, been shot at by pirates in his attempt to reach the new settlement at Renews. The pirates had let them go when they knew it was Governor Guy, but he had gotten there to find the new settlement in disarray. Not only had Master Crout and the other men there not been able to build any permanent buildings, but they had spent the weeks since their arrival in constant fear of Easton and other pirates.

 

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