A/N: I shall be updating weekly, and you can expect each chapter to be 2000-3000 words long (excluding the prologue). The Very Brief History of the Lost Colony of Roanoke was in the previous chapter, at the beginning of the historic notes, so go back and read it if you need to. Once again, read the historic notes as you go. An explanation of how to do so was included in the author's note at the beginning of the last chapter.
Thank you to all my reviewers: YOU ROCK!
Please note that Alfred F. Jones is America's human name. And 'Elyoner' is the old English spelling of 'Eleanor', and thus should be pronounced like its modern counterpart. Also, I do not own Hetalia.
"The Lost Colonist"
He was not always the United States of America, or even the American Colonies. Once, he was just Alfred F. Jones, a little boy from the Lost Colony of Roanoke…
The First Chapter
December 1588
"The winters are rather warm here," Lewes Wotton mused, drawing his coat closer around his body despite the previous statement.
"They're still cold enough to keep the crops from growing," Clement Taylor said in return, noting how his companion's face seemed more hollowed than it had a few weeks ago.
"I suppose," came the reply.
"I suppose?" he looked at the one who opened the conversation with an incredulous expression. "Already, twenty-one have died from starvation!"
"Well, yes, but it's common knowledge that the savages are keeping their food stores from us, and not because of a crop shortage."
"Aye, and they're openly attacking us as well," a cynical sneer came with the grim reply. "Now we can only rely upon the mother country for our supplies…"
"Good afternoon, Mr. Taylor, Mr. Wotton," Elyoner Dare greeted them as she walked by. She was obviously thinner than she should have been, but still possessed the graceful beauty she was known for.
"The same goes to you, Mrs. Dare," Clement said.
"And how fares Virginia?" Lewes continued the conversation where the other had left off.
"Not well," the beautiful lady's face turned grim, "she has lost all her baby-fat, her bones jut out in an unsightly way, and she remains so thin no matter how much we feed her."
Elyoner sighed. "It's almost as if she's taking the colony's suffering upon her shoulders."
March 1589
"Alfred. ALFRED!" Ambrose ran after the boy as quickly as she could while weighed down by her many layers of heavy petticoats and the unbearable heat they created, hoping to catch him before they moved even deeper into the swampy field and both found their clothes irreparably soiled.
But it was too late, the thirteen-year-old girl realized, because as she took her next step her foot slipped into a deep hole filled with mud. She pulled it back, wincing in disgust at the 'sploosh' sound the movement made as she retreated to dryer land.
That was how Alfred found his babysitter: leaning up against a tree with a frightening scowl on her face, desperately trying to shake as much mud off her foot as possible. Of course, the two year old was oblivious to this, ignoring it just as he ignored his own sludge covered state.
Instead, he happily bounded up to the preteen girl, smiling and laughing, eager to show her the spoils of his adventure. She, on the other hand, did not seem pleased at all, instead screaming at the sight of what the little boy held in his hands.
"Get that toad away from me!" She shrieked.
The toad in Alfred's hands was obviously startled, as the green and blown splotched amphibian quickly darted into the marsh and away from the two children.
"Fwoggy run away," the blue-eyed boy said sadly, reaching out as if to try and retrieve his animal friend once more and paying absolutely no mind to his obviously troubled caretaker.
"Serves you right," she replied sharply, "for shoving that nasty thing in my face."
The toddler's lip wobbled a bit, and his eyes were becoming watery.
"Do not be upset. He is still very small, and does not know better," the voice obviously belonged to a man no older than thirty, but still sounded wise and all-knowing – the voice of a person that had seen all the world had to offer.
"Manny!" the boy cried, his tears completely forgotten. He ran towards the darker skinned man standing at the edge of the marsh, and looking rather out of place in his European style clothing. He was welcomed with open arms, both laughing happily as the blond child was swung around by the older, taller man.
"Ambrose," he greeted, walking up to the girl with Alfred in his arms.
"Manteo," she opted to use the man's true name instead of the nickname Alfred had given him, returning the Croatoan Tribesman's salutation with a small curtsey.
The man's eyes traveled downward, to her mud caked stockings and shoes, then up to her face and the embarrassment and guilt residing in her expression. His eyebrows rose when it dawned on him: she expected to be punished for getting her clothes dirty.
"Let us clean your clothes at the fort," he said with a gentle smile, holding out the hand of his free arm for the girl to take. She nodded vigorously, realizing that he was giving her a chance to clean her clothes before being spotted by her mother and chastised for the state of her dress. The child gratefully took the hand that the Native American had offered, and they headed back to Fort Raleigh.
~ C R O ~
"Ginna!" Alfred happily called the toddler only a few days older than him, Virginia Dare, by her nickname, trying his best to climb out of Manteo's stern hold as soon as he caught sight of her.
"Do not struggle, or you shall fall," the Native American spoke with obvious amusement as the blond boy did nearly fall out of his grasp. He set the two-year-old down on the ground before he managed to succeed in climbing away and possibly injured himself in the process.
As soon as he hit the ground, the toddler took off running to greet the girl with the native not far behind, and enveloped her in a crushing hug.
"Alfie!" the girl cried merrily in return once she was released from her friend's hold, before darting away and having Alfred chase her.
Manteo smiled as he watched the two young children run about the settlement, squealing happily as they did so. The youngest Dare still looked sickly and malnourished, but she was a child and deserved to live and play as one would. His smile saddened when Virginia's playful yelps and calls descended into a rather grim fit of coughing, and the man winced in sympathy when he saw the toddler doubling over in pain. Alfred approached her, worried, before the fit subsided and they were both running around again.
He turned to the woman who had walked up beside him.
"I worry for young Roanoke, Elyoner," he said to Virginia's mother.
"Why do you call Virginia that?" Elyoner Dare asked in response, emphasizing her daughter's proper name.
He did not answer the question, simply saying, "Her condition worsens."
"Yes, I know," the woman's voice was small, defeated.
"How are the colonists in the infirmary?" He asked as he began walking further into the settlement, with the mother following closely behind.
"You always know just when to ask these things, only inquiring when there's news to be shared," she shook her head sadly, a melancholy smile on her lips, "Five more have recently succumbed to the swamp sickness, Thomas Topin died not even an hour ago, and William Browne collapsed from exhaustion.
"You know," she continued, "everyone says the New World is a land of promise, opportunity and riches, But I think the reality is a cruel and unforgiving land that tries its best to claim the lives of all who try to settle it." (1)
Elyoner did not notice that they had reached the spot where Virginia had doubled over coughing just moments before, nor did she notice how there seemed to be something on the ground distracting the Native American she stood next to. So after a lengthy pause, she once again tried to coerce a response out of the man.
"What do you think, Manteo?"
"Oh," he replied distractedly, "Yes, a very cruel land indeed."
Once again Elyoner failed to take note of the fact that that the native had never looked up from the ground the entire time, where he was inspecting something that her young daughter seemed to have coughed up.
Namely, blood.
Late August 1589
"So hot," Dyonis Harvye complained, "Manteo, why do you have to keep the fire going in this heat?"
"Smoke repels bugs and keeps the thatching from rotting," the Croatoan tribesman stated simply.
"Keep it burning, I've had enough of the bugs and condone anything to keep them at bay," Ananias Dare, now the de facto leader of Roanoke Colony, stated authoritatively. "Now, down to business. We all know of the Roanoke savages' raid last night, and we've just surveyed the damage. The house shared by Mr. Thomas Gramme and Robert Little has been burned entirely, the same goes for the Archard home; and Humfrey Newton's cottage has sustained considerable damage."
"How many dead?" Anthony Cage asked.
"Six: Henry Berrye, Richard Taverner, John Spendlove, Wenefrid Powell, and Michael Bishop were killed by the savages. Arnold Archard perished in the fire." he replied grimly.
Many people in the crowd gasped, and Joyce Archard ran out of the building with a sob she unsuccessfully attempted to stifle, dragging little Thomas Archard along and leaving Jane Jones sprinting after in an attempt to comfort her.
John Sampson made his way to the center of the room, the only area with enough open space to allow for free movement (if only because nobody wanted to endure the added heat of Manteo's fire). His face was a picture of thunderous rage, as he glared at the colonists present.
"Does anyone know why they're doing this?" he roared, barely able to keep from coughing due to the smoke.
"I do," Wanchese said, and everyone looked at him in surprise: the Croatoan Tribesman so rarely talked that most of the settlers often forgot he could speak English at all. He took his time moving from to the center of the room, contorting his legs and placing his feet at odd angles to avoid stepping on anyone.
Once he stood beside Sampson, the native began his explanation. "The previous white men, who built Fort Raleigh, also burned down the Roanoke's village of Aquascogok. Chief Pemisapan likely considers this revenge." (2, 3)
"Damn Greenville," an unknown person in the crowd echoed the sentiments of everyone present, swearing at the leader of the previous Roanoke colony who had seemingly caused all of their troubles. This single line sent many of the colonists into an uproar. (4)
"Did they even have a reason for doing this?" James Lasie called out, his boomingly deep voice loud enough to be heard above all the others.
The two Native Americans wisely remained silent, knowing it would be futile to even try talking over the outraged assembly.
Among the chaos, Ananias had called another, scrawnier man up to the center of the room, and was instructing him to do something. Once the smoke had cleared enough to see his face, those paying attention recognized him to be Thomas Scot, who, with a nod to Ananias, raised his hand to his face and placed two fingers in his mouth.
Taking a deep breath, he let out a long shrill whistle that immediately captured the attention of everyone and caused several to cover his or her ears.
Ananias Dare smiled gratefully at Scot as he spoke. "Thank you."
"Of course," was the reply as the man retreated back into the crowd.
"Now," Ananias said, "the council has been discussing the current state of affairs, and we think–"
"That we should send out a team of men to find habitable land in the Chesapeake area to relocate the colony," Rodger Baillie, another councilman, interrupted and finished the sentence for Ananias. "We shall need at least fifteen volunteers for this expedition."
For several moments, a tense silence occupied the governing hall of Roanoke Colony.
"I'll go," Thomas Gramme spoke, being the first of a flood of men suddenly volunteering.
Ananias and Rodger just smiled.
Early September 1589
"The ships have been built?" Ananias Dare asked in a way that seemed to demand a proper answer.
"Yes, sir, the canoes are finished," Roger Baillie replied.
"And the supplies collected?" the de facto governor further inquired.
"Whatever we could spare."
"Good. I'd go with you, but–"
"Don't worry, we know how much Virginia and Elyoner need you," the other interrupted, looking inside Ananias's cabin to the sickly two year old lying in the single, crudely constructed bed.
"Thank you for understanding. Rodger, I leave you in charge of the expedition," Rodger nodded in acknowledgement to the other man's statement, "now, let's go and see the lot of you off."
~ C R O ~
It was just before noon. The sun had not yet reached its zenith and the beach still retained some of the coolness of the early morning. Hidden in the shadows of trees along the edge of the beach, half lodged in the sand and half floating in the water, were the two large canoes to be used on the expedition to the Chesapeake Bay. They were fashioned under the careful instruction of Manteo and Wanchese, and the result was two satisfying, sturdy vessels, currently being loaded with supplies for the expedition.
The two Croatoans, upon seeing the outcome of the colonists' labor, had joked that they might have made excellent natives themselves, if given the chance.
But it had soon became obvious that no, the Europeans could not be Indians. As they continued preparing for the trip, the colonists had realized how little they actually knew about the land they now inhabited. They frequently made mistakes such as putting poisonous plants in with the food supplies for the trip, and the two Croatoan Tribesmen realized that in order for the mission to the Chesapeake to be successful, one of them would have to join the expedition.
Surprisingly it had been Wanchese, not Manteo, who had volunteered.
This is what found the two saying farewell on the beach just as the expedition was about to head off, speaking in their native language and standing a little ways away from the rest of the well-wishers.
"If you encounter other tribes, ask immediately for Matoaka of the Powhatan tribe. Once you see her, tell her you have the trust of Manteo of Croatoan, she'll recognize me, and hopefully welcome you," Manteo instructed his fellow tribesman, who nodded gravely. (5)
"But be sure to ask for Matoaka and no one else," he stressed this point greatly.
"I understand," the other said in return.
"Then I have nothing more to say. May you go swiftly to your destination, and have little hardship throughout your journey."
"And may you find safety within your wikiwam and prosperity for your tribe." Wanchese replied, the two Native Americans sharing one last smile as if it were a private joke between them, before he too went to help with loading the canoes. (6)
Suddenly, Manteo was alone, trying to decide whether to go back inside the fort or stay until the explorers' group departed. He eventually settled on remaining on the beach, joining the rest of the people there to say goodbye to those who were leaving.
Jane Jones was there, he saw, but decided not to go up and speak with her. Her husband was going on the voyage, and they seemed to be sharing rather intimate words of farewell.
And Ananias Dare, though not leaving on the mission, was busying himself with the impending departure nonetheless, instructing the people who were part of the designated group on how to properly load a canoe. Occasionally he would talk to the man beside him, Rodger Baillie, who would nod and say something that was likely a variation of "yes, sir," in return.
It took a while before the group was completely prepared, the selected men pushing the canoes off the beach and sliding into the boats, while those left behind waved and shouted encouragements.
Despite the commotion, Ananias noted Manteo's approach, nodding to him when he came to a stop next to the other, so that they were standing side by side.
"How long?" the tribesman asked gravely.
"If they don't return by spring," the colony's leader replied, immediately understanding the question asked, "then we assume them dead."
Historic Notes:
1. Swamp Sickness – known today as Malaria, it was called congestive chills or swamp sickness by the people of the time.
2. Chief Pemisapan – also called Chief Wangina or Chief Wingina. He was the chief of the Roanoke Indians on Roanoke Island (not to be confused with the Croatoan Tribe), who were originally allies of the English but became unfriendly after the destruction of their town Aquascogok
3. "The Previous White Men" – The "Lost Colony" of Roanoke was the second colony to be established on the island. The first colony was from 1585-1586. They were responsible for building Fort Raleigh, but the colonists, mainly of the upper class, decided against doing manual labor and instead relied on their alliance with the Roanoke Indians for survival. The colony was abandoned in 1586 after fallout with the Roanoke Indians, all of the colonists boarding a ship captained by Sir Francis Drake – an AWESOME famous/infamous English pirate captain – and returning to England.
4. Sir Richard Greenville – the nobleman in charge of the first colony in Fort Raleigh on Roanoke Island (1585-1586). He began the tradition of bad relations with the natives of Roanoke when he burned the Native American village Aquascogok as retaliation for a silver cup stolen from the English colonists.
5. Matoaka – other names include Matoika and Amonute, but most people know her by a childhood nickname she was assigned: Pocahontas. She was an American Indian of the Powhatan tribe, a Native American empire that controlled almost all of the land around the Chesapeake Bay and was reaching its peak at about this time. She was also the fabled savior of John Smith and the wife of John Rolfe. She actually was not born until around 1595, but I made this slip-up on purpose.
6. Wikiwam – a wigwam, the common shelter for the Algonquin Indians, whose territory included present day North Carolina. Wikiwam is an Algonquin word, which I used because the Croatoan Indians spoke the Carolina Algonquin language.