Part 24 (2/2)
”I am not likely to forget our great enemy while the name of Ribault or Coligny remains unforgotten,” said the other. ”All the more reason why this land should be kept for the Religion.”
Indeed when they landed they found little in the country or the people to recall Adam's doom. They set up their English standard upon an island and took possession of the domain in the name of Elizabeth of England.
This island the Indians called Woc.o.ken, and the inlet where the s.h.i.+ps lay, Ocrac.o.ke. They went inland as the guests of the native chiefs, and on the island of Roanoke they were entertained by the people of Wingina the king, most kindly and hospitably. The sea remained smooth and pleasant and the air neither very hot nor very cold, but sweet and wholesome. Manteo and Wanchese, two of the Indian warriors, chose to sail away with the white men, and in good time the s.h.i.+ps returning reached Plymouth harbor, early in September of that year. Manteo was made Lord of Roanoke, the first and the last of the American Indians to bear an English t.i.tle to his wild estate. The new province was named Virginia, with the play upon words favored in that day, for it was a virgin country, and its sovereign was the Virgin Queen.
When the two captains came again to London they found the air full of the intriguings of Spain. In that year Santa Cruz had organized a plot against the Queen's life, discovered almost by chance; in that year it became clear that Philip's long chafing against the growing sea-power of England and his hatred of such rangers as Drake and Hawkins must sooner or later blaze up in war. And by chance also Armadas learned how narrow had been their own escape from a Spanish prison.
He had been the guest of a friend at the acting of Master Lyly's new masque by the Children of the Chapel at Gray's Inn. Little Tom p.o.o.pe sang Apelles's song and ruffled it afterward among the ladies of the court, as lightly as Ess.e.x himself. Armadas came out into the dank Thames air humming over the dainty verses,--
”'At last he staked her all his arrows.
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows--'”
A small hand slid into his own and pulled him toward a byway.
”Why, how is it with thee, Master p.o.o.pe? Didst play thy part bravely, lad.”
”Come,” said the boy in a low breathless voice. ”I have somewhat to tell thee. In here,” and he drew Armadas toward a doorway. ”'T is my mother's lodging--there is nothing to fear.”
A woman let them in as if she had been watching for them, opened the door into a small plainly furnished private room and vanished.
”Art not going on any more voyages to the Virginias?” asked the boy, his eager eyes on the Captain's face.
”Not for the present, my boy. Why? Wouldst like to sail with us, and learn more of the ways of Indian Princes?”
”Nay, I have no time for fooling--they'll miss me,” said the youngster impatiently. ”The Spanish Amba.s.sador has his spies upon thee, and thou must leave a false scent for them to smell out. He sent his report on thee, eight months ago.”
”Before we sailed to Roanoke?” queried Armadas with lifted brows.
”Before thou went to Richmond that day. His Excellency quizzed me after the masque and asked me did I know when the s.h.i.+ps sailed and whither they were bound, believing me to be cozened by his gold. I told him they were for Florida to find the fountain of youth for the Queen, and would sail on May-day!”
A grin of pure delight widened the boy's face, and he wriggled in gleeful remembrance where he perched, on a tall oaken chair. ”Oh, they will swallow any bait, those gudgeons, and some day their folly will be the end of them. I would not have them catch thee if they could be fooled, and well did I fool them, I tell thee!”
”For--heaven's--sake!” stammered Armadas in amazement. ”Little friend,”
he added gently, ”it seems to me that we owe thee life and honor. But why didst do it?”
”Why?” The boy's fine dark brows bent in a quick frown. ”What a pox right had they to be tempting me to be false to the salt that I and they had eaten? I hate all Spaniards. I'd ha' done it any way,” he added shyly, ”for to win our game, but I did it for love o' thee because thou took my part about the mascarado.”
”I think,” said Armadas as he took from his wallet a bracelet of Indian sh.e.l.l-work hung with baroque pearls, ”that all our fine plans would ha'
come to naught but for thy wise head, young 'un. These be pearls from the Virginias, and if you find 'em scorched, that's only because the heathen know no other way of opening the oyster-sh.e.l.l but by fire. The beads are such as they use for money and call roanoke. The gold of the Spanish mines can buy men maybe, but it does not buy such loyalty as thine, that's sure. I have no gold to give, lad,--but wear this for a love-token. And I think that could the truth be known, the Queen herself would freely name thee Lord of Roanoke.”
NOTES
[1] The name is variously spelled Armadas, Amidas and Amadas. The form here used is that of the earliest records. The same is true of the spelling ”Ralegh.”
[2] Companies of children under various names were often employed in the acting of plays in the time of Elizabeth. These are the ”troops of children, little eya.s.ses” alluded to by Shakespeare in ”Hamlet.” They sometimes acted in plays written for them by Lyly and others, and sometimes in the popular dramas of the day. Ben Jonson wrote a charming epitaph on Salathiel Pavy, one of these little actors, who died at thirteen.
[3] The pa.s.samezzo, pa.s.sy-measure or half-measure was a popular Elizabethan dance, like the coranto and lavolta.
[4] Primero, or ombre, is said to be the ancestor of our modern game of poker. An interesting account of its origin and variations will be found in Mrs. Schuyler Van Rensselaer's ”Prophetical, Educational and Playing Cards.”
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