Big Chief Elizabeth: The Adventures and Fate of the First English Colonists in America (15 page)
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Authors: Giles Milton
BOOK: Big Chief Elizabeth: The Adventures and Fate of the First English Colonists in America
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When Lane learned of the proposed ambush, he decided to wrest the initiative with a characteristically audacious plan. He began by sending a message to Wingina informing him that he was about to lead a small party to Croatoan Island, as he “had heard of the arival of our fleete.” This was a fabrication, and Lane admits in his journal that “in trueth, [I] had neither heard nor hoped for so good adventure,” but he knew it would so alarm Wingina that it would force him to postpone his attack.
Lane now got down to business. There was no time to be lost, for Indian scouts would soon learn that the story was a hoax. He called his men to a secret council of war and informed them that he was planning an attack on Wingina’s village that very evening, May 31. It was to be a night attack or “camisado”—so called because the attackers left their shirt-tails hanging behind them so that they would not be fired upon by their own men.
It was planned in two stages. On the eve of the attack, Lane’s men were to “sease upon all the canoes about the island” so they would have enough boats to get quickly across the sound. It was imperative that every canoe be captured, or word of the impending attack could easily be carried to Wingina. Once this operation was complete, the men would wait until nightfall before rowing across to the mainland and mounting a frontal assault against Wingina’s settlement.
The attack misfired right from the outset. A group of men was sent “to gather up all the canoas in the setting of the sunne,” but two
Indians managed to escape and began rowing furiously towards the mainland. The Englishmen chased after the canoe, captured it, and promptly “cut off two savages heads.” Unfortunately for Lane, several Indians on Roanoke were witness to the slaughter, “whereupon the cry arose; for in trueth they, privie to their owne villanous purposes against us, held as good espial upon us, both day and night, as we did upon them.” The tables were now turned and the Indians launched their own attack; within minutes, Lane found himself locked into a desperate struggle for the island. “[The Indians] tooke themselves to their bowes and we to our armes,” he wrote; “some three or foure of them at the first were slayne with our shot, the rest fled into ye woods.” Lane’s position was precarious, for although he knew that none of the Indians could cross the sound to warn Wingina of events on Roanoke, he felt he had lost the initiative. He now had no option but to press ahead with his attack on the mainland, although the fear of ambush meant it would have to take place at dawn.
Indians managed to escape and began rowing furiously towards the mainland. The Englishmen chased after the canoe, captured it, and promptly “cut off two savages heads.” Unfortunately for Lane, several Indians on Roanoke were witness to the slaughter, “whereupon the cry arose; for in trueth they, privie to their owne villanous purposes against us, held as good espial upon us, both day and night, as we did upon them.” The tables were now turned and the Indians launched their own attack; within minutes, Lane found himself locked into a desperate struggle for the island. “[The Indians] tooke themselves to their bowes and we to our armes,” he wrote; “some three or foure of them at the first were slayne with our shot, the rest fled into ye woods.” Lane’s position was precarious, for although he knew that none of the Indians could cross the sound to warn Wingina of events on Roanoke, he felt he had lost the initiative. He now had no option but to press ahead with his attack on the mainland, although the fear of ambush meant it would have to take place at dawn.
Lane’s men passed a tense night in their settlement, half-expecting trouble from the warriors in the woods. They had good reason to be frightened, for the Indians’ favoured method of attack was, as Manteo had previously warned, “by sudden surprising one an other, most commonly about the dawning of the day, or moone light.” All night the men clutched their weapons, but the attack never materialised. It was with considerable relief that they watched the first streaks of dawn light the eastern sky.
Lane split his men into two groups, leaving forty soldiers to guard the fort on Roanoke while he led twenty-seven men across the sound to punish Wingina and his tribe. Their boats were sighted by the Indians long before they reached the mainland, but Lane’s heavily armed men were not unduly troubled. Some had donned breastplates, others wore jerkins, and all carried loaded pistols.
As the boats neared the foreshore, Lane called to an Indian at the water’s edge and asked him to tell Wingina that he was heading to Croatoan Island but would first like a word with the chieftain. The tribesman duly ran to the settlement and returned shortly after with the news that Wingina “did abide my coming to him.” Lane’s bluff had worked; he would not have to fight his way into the settlement after all.
Wingina’s warriors were itching to wipe out the English colony. Lane said their plan was to storm his house, “put fire in the reedes,” and “knock out my braynes.”
His men were jumpy as they entered the village and looked for any hint of suspicious activity. Wingina was seated on the ground surrounded by seven or eight of his principal advisors, but most of the “common sort” were still in their houses. Lane realised that this was the opportune moment to attack: “I gave the watchword agreed upon, (which was ‘Christ our Victory’),” and the men fired their muskets straight at the little group of tribal elders. Never before had Lane led such a devastating offensive. Wingina was the first to be hit, “shot thorow by the colonell with a pistoll,” while others lay stunned and bleeding, unsure as to whether they were dead, wounded, or as yet unhurt. Lane ordered his men to halt firing for a moment, “for the saving of Manteo’s friends,” then blasted a second round of grapeshot into the group.
Wingina, who had been “lying on the ground for dead,” suddenly scrambled to his feet “and ran away, as though he had not bene touched, insomuch as he overran all the companie.” He had not been seriously hurt, and was desperate to flee before Lane’s troops could reload their muskets for a third time. A band of men set off in hot pursuit, anxious not to lose him in the thick undergrowth.
The chieftain had a very real chance of escape. He was familiar with the forest trails and skilled at moving quickly through the bracken. He was also extremely lucky. One of Lane’s Irish contingent lifted his cavalry pistol and, with Wingina in his sights, discharged his lead. The chieftain was “shot thwart the buttocks,” which momentarily stunned him, but he was not badly injured and he continued his desperate dash through the forest. He had now shaken off all but two of his assailants, and these found it hard to run through the forest in their heavy garments.
Lane, who had remained in the village, had no idea whether Wingina was alive or dead and was “in some doubt lest we had lost
both the king and my man.” But after a long interval, the two exhausted foot soldiers emerged from the forest. When Lane stepped forward to ask what had happened, he saw that one of the men, Edward Nugent, was clutching Wingina’s bloody head, severed with his trusty blade.
both the king and my man.” But after a long interval, the two exhausted foot soldiers emerged from the forest. When Lane stepped forward to ask what had happened, he saw that one of the men, Edward Nugent, was clutching Wingina’s bloody head, severed with his trusty blade.
The events that followed immediately after the attack remain a mystery, for there is a week-long break in Lane’s journal. It is probable that the village elders surrendered to the English as soon as they saw this grisly trophy, but whether Lane exacted more revenge is unclear. It would certainly have been in keeping with his reputation for clinical efficiency, and Thomas Harriot hinted at further bloodshed when he wrote that “some of our companie, towardes the ende of the yeare, shewed themselves too fierce in slaying some of the people.” What is certain is that Lane’s offensive gave the English breathing space. There was no chance of an Indian attack in the immediate future. All they now had to do was survive the short period before their harvest could be gathered.
On June 8, just over a week after the attack, one of Lane’s soldiers, Captain Stafford, arrived breathless from his post on the Outer Banks with the news that Lane had long wanted to hear. A great fleet lay at anchor—no fewer than twenty-three ships—and they flew from their masts the flag of St. George. Sir Francis Drake had come to the aid of Ralegh’s half-starved colony on Roanoke.
Drake had long taken an interest in Ralegh’s project. He had served on the parliamentary committee that had scrutinized his plans, and welcomed the news that Sir Richard Grenville had successfully planted the colonists on Roanoke. But his arrival at the island in the summer of 1586 was as unplanned as it was unexpected: Drake was more than four thousand miles from his original destination.
He had set sail with a commission to free the English grain ships in Spain, and he was also expected, and encouraged, to ransack and loot whichever Spanish coastal towns took his fancy. But Drake had
set his mind on a far more ambitious agenda, which included an attack on the Spanish treasure fleet and a series of raids in the Spanish Caribbean. He had been encouraged by reports—filtering back from both Grenville and Lane—that suggested the Caribbean islands were not as strongly fortified as had first been thought. Lane had written in a letter that any attack would be “most honorable and feasible and profytable,” and added that Spain’s forces were “soo meane” that it would be easy to capture their strongholds with “eny small force sent by hyr majeste.” Grenville had only increased Drake’s impatience to set sail with his reports of “sugar, ginger, pearle, tobacco and such like commodities.” What neither man had asked for, nor expected, was for Drake to pitch up at Roanoke.
set his mind on a far more ambitious agenda, which included an attack on the Spanish treasure fleet and a series of raids in the Spanish Caribbean. He had been encouraged by reports—filtering back from both Grenville and Lane—that suggested the Caribbean islands were not as strongly fortified as had first been thought. Lane had written in a letter that any attack would be “most honorable and feasible and profytable,” and added that Spain’s forces were “soo meane” that it would be easy to capture their strongholds with “eny small force sent by hyr majeste.” Grenville had only increased Drake’s impatience to set sail with his reports of “sugar, ginger, pearle, tobacco and such like commodities.” What neither man had asked for, nor expected, was for Drake to pitch up at Roanoke.
Lane led a devastating attack on Wingina’s village. The chieftain was pursued into the forest where he met with a grisly end
He had set sail on his Spain-bound voyage in September 1585, having secured the backing of many of the most prestigious names in Elizabethan England. The queen herself had invested £20,000, while courtiers such as Leicester, Hatton, and Ralegh had offered money, ships, and supplies. London’s populace sent the thirty-strong fleet on its way “with great jollity,” as well they might, for it was the largest squadron ever to leave English shores.
King Philip was seriously alarmed by rumours of its departure and wrote desperate letters to his former ambassador to England—Mendoza—urging him “to use the utmost diligence in obtaining very frequent and very trustworthy news from England.” In the absence of concrete information, everyone in Spain had their own theory about Drake’s mission. Mendoza believed his objective was to make “a landing in Portugal”; the Marques de Santa Cruz, Spain’s high admiral, thought he was heading for Brazil; and a few harboured naive hopes that Drake was sailing directly to Ralegh’s colony, avoiding Spanish territory altogether.
Whatever the goal of his mission, his fleet sent a wave of panic through the Spanish Admiralty, which called for immediate action: “despatch caravels with all possible diligence to the viceroyes and goverours of the Indies,” wrote Santa Cruz, “advertising them of the newes of the English army, that they may be provided and make themselves ready for them.”
Drake headed directly for Spain, where he learned that most of the seized grain ships had already been released, thus deflecting his planned onslaught. This enabled him to proceed towards the Caribbean, a voyage of such monotony that the on-board chroniclers were clearly delighted when the steward of the
Talbot
, Thomas Ogle, was caught with his hose around his ankles and two young lads in his bunk. Here, at last, was something to write about. After
being convicted of sodomy by his peers, Ogle cheerfully “confessed the fact” and was “hanged … for buggery, committed in his stewards rome with 2 boyes.”
Talbot
, Thomas Ogle, was caught with his hose around his ankles and two young lads in his bunk. Here, at last, was something to write about. After
being convicted of sodomy by his peers, Ogle cheerfully “confessed the fact” and was “hanged … for buggery, committed in his stewards rome with 2 boyes.”
Once Drake had entered tropical waters, he pointed his fleet in the direction of Santo Domingo, the fabled Spanish city on the southern coast of Hispaniola Island. He had set his heart on executing the most brazen raid that England had ever launched against its old adversary. Santo Domingo was the original seat of Spanish government in the New World, its “chief jewel,” whose opulence and splendour had long been the subject of ballads and songs. Drake wished to sack this “goodly builded cittie” not just for the spoils of war, but because it stood as the very symbol of King Philip’s power.
He had chosen a formidable target. From the sea, Santo Domingo looked impregnable, its stone bulwarks dominating the entrance to the harbour. The Spanish governor boasted of commanding “the strongest [city] in Christendom,” a fortress defended by “handsome and effective troops,” and was confident that the place would never come under attack.
Shortly after ten o’clock on the morning of December 31, 1585, a breathless messenger arrived at the fort with the disconcerting news that a fleet “believed to be English” had been sighted. Word spread quickly through the city, but few chose to believe such a story, doubting that English ships would dare to sail so close to the island without first asking permission. A captain was nonetheless put to sea to investigate; when he returned to the city a few hours later he confirmed the rumours. Not only were the ships flying the flag of St. George, they were also commanded by “
el Capitan
Francisco.”
el Capitan
Francisco.”
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