Becoming Americans Page 9

  Richard was calming Edward with the tale of a new girl he'd seen at church, when Barnes emerged into the clearing with a branch broken from the dead tulip tree. He ran for Sawyer yelling, "Thief and fornicator, I'll tell it all!" He held the branch above his head, aiming for his enemy. But Sawyer grabbed the club and pulled it from the man's hand. He swung his fist into Barnes's face and then again into the stunned man's stomach. With the club in both hands, Sawyer shoved Barnes into the rotting tulip tree.

  Bees flew from the rotten trunk and dispersed the non-fighting processioners. Barnes lay by the stump, and—though all who witnessed it later said he was only stung by two of the insects—he screamed in agony and, as the bees flew away, the men could see Barnes begin to swell. Within minutes the man's throat had swollen larger than his thigh and the screaming ceased. Soon the thrashing ceased, and he lay dead.

  The men and boys knew they were in the presence of God or of the Devil. All said a prayer, and most of them snapped their fingers or walked backwards or did whatever they thought might mollify the Evil One if this had been his work. Who knew what evil spirits of the Indians were still about to send this "English fly," as the Indians called the bee?

  The death of this valuable servant cast a melancholy spirit over Harper and Drusilla's wedding day. Some guests whispered of it as a bad omen for the Harper's union. As a guest, the new Mistress Sawyer was silent, except to give warm wishes to the new couple. No one blamed Sawyer for defending himself, though a cloud of vague suspicion hovered. Richard searched for a meaning in the strange death and could only conclude that some Higher Being had wanted Barnes silenced. Life, and everything around them, was a mystery. Was God saving Sawyer for good deeds in the future, or was the Dark One protecting him— and perhaps Drusilla—for future Evil Deeds? It was no natural death to die from two bee stings. The community agreed on that, and the church congregation was large and reverential for many weeks afterwards.

  The loss of Barnes's needed strong hand, plus the costs of the servant's funeral and of Harper's wedding, following so closely on each other, placed Harper in a difficult position. Sawyer sensed his neighbor's financial problem and, himself, made an offer of help. He would loan Francis Harper what he needed to purchase three more servants, provided Sawyer was given the headrights for the three, fifty-acres of land they would bring, and a short-term mortgage on one hundred acres of Pine Haven. In addition, he would make arrangements to hire out young Richard Williams for his skills in felling trees and handling tools. Captain Bartolomew Ingolbreitsen, a Dutch trader of some reputation—and, somehow, a friend of Sawyer's—was hard-pressed for workers to complete the courthouse he had contracted to build in Lower Norfolk County.

  For Francis Harper it was a welcome solution. Richard, Billy, and James had cleared all the land that could be cultivated with three new workers, and the income Richard would earn Harper for the work in Lower Norfolk would help repay Sawyer's loan.

  The servants Sawyer brought to Harper were not all that could be hoped for. They were cold and sullen men who were captured soldiers from Cromwell's Republican army. With the Restoration of His Majesty, King Charles II, many prisoners of war were being dispersed throughout the colony as servants. Those who came to Harper were a hard and bitter group, and he knew at once that they must be handled with exacting firmness. A man's wife and children were under constant threat. The loss of runaway servants could ruin a man if they disappeared at harvest time. Edward's jobs now included that of guard and jailer.

  When Richard heard of the arrangements made with the Dutchman, he was temporarily dismayed at parting from his friend Edward; but that thought was outweighed by the fact that Lower Norfolk County was the home of Anne Biggs. He'd see her on her own territory and, maybe, find a way to impress her father as he'd done her grandfather.

  Captain Ingolbreitsen's sloop picked up Richard from Sawyer's wharf. Richard stowed away his tools and hoisted aboard three light hogsheads for delivery on Lower Norfolk County's Elizabeth River. The one-day's sail took a leisurely three days as the sloop stopped at more plantations for additional workers and for another hogshead. Richard and the other rented workmen slept on shore each night, as the crew of Dutchmen dealt with the ship and cargo. The Dutchmen were a comic lot, and the English mimicked their funny accents and guffawed at the voluminous breeches and close-cut hair. They seemed a goodnatured lot, though, and Richard was soon enjoying himself.

  It was a late winter afternoon as they sailed down past Point Comfort and into Hampton Roads, where the James, the Elizabeth, and the Nansemond Rivers flowed into the southern entrance of the Chesapeake Bay. The sloop rode with the incoming tide, and Richard watched the setting sun set gild the waters of the merging rivers. It was here that the captain of the Diversion had warned his charges of the dangers they faced. It was here they'd passed again a fortnight later on their way to Pine Haven. Once more, he was passing through this gateway to the New World. This time he felt less alone, no more a stranger.

  The lanterns of a dozen ships flickered from the east, and more lights were scattered by the shores. Some of these ships held newcomers who would perish through their foolishness or from evil influence. Other lights must be from ships that carried wealthy merchants or planters and their cargoes. Already, Richard felt more akin to the prosperous and confident than to the poor and frightened. He moved the tobacco in his mouth as he congratulated himself on his first two years, and smiled with anticipation of the years ahead.

  They sailed on under the bright light of a full moon trusting in an experienced crew who knew these broad waters and the shallow creeks and narrow bays that entered them. An old sailor pointed to firelight on a southern shore and told the boys that it had been the site of the village of Chesapeake Indians where the Bay had got its name. The great chief Powhattan had wiped out the village soon after its English discovery, and had replaced the people with some of his own tribe. Now most of them were gone, too, the sailor said, thanks be to God.

  Passing Sewall's Point, they continued south into the Elizabeth River. Smoke rose from scattered settlements on the eastern bank. More lights came from up wide Tanner's Creek and from the northern shore of the Eastern Branch they entered. Still long before midnight, they tied-up near a cluster of small fires on the upper reaches of Broad Creek, a tributary of the Eastern Branch of the Elizabeth River.

  Rude huts, fashioned from forked branches and thatch, were standing or leaning with half-a-dozen tents. Stacks of half-hewn timbers lay beside a saw pit. Planks already sawn were neatly stacked nearby. The beginning of a brick chimney was rising from the high ground, and huge sills lay on broad pilings waiting to support the walls of the new courthouse.

  The smell of cut pine and cedar mingled with the salty air. The crew and the English workers hurried ashore to make themselves known, to find food, and fill their tankards with the beer that was, evidently, flowing freely. Songs or arguments or laughter came from around the fires. Richard was already glad he'd been sent.

  Captain Ingolbreitsen was unlike any man Richard had known. He was a man of enormous appetites, always with food or drink at hand. His tobacco pouch held a type of nut he chewed which had caused his teeth to turn black. His orange hair was short and course, and stood out from his head. His easy, loud laughter could quickly turn to chilling threats and torrents of blasphemy when he was crossed. He was generous with his beer and he was merciless in his punishments.

  Many of the men working on this project were, like Richard, rented servants. Free carpenters and joiners directed the work and lived apart from the workers. The Dutch kept to themselves, though they admitted a few Englishmen to their circle at some times. Three English workers had helped them unload the light hogsheads from the sloop when it arrived, and they were often in the company of the short-haired Dutchmen. They worked closely with the Dutch and seemed to be given preferential treatment. And, though Richard couldn't detect any difference between their duties and his own, he overheard two of them speaking of Spanis
h coins they were saving to buy their freedom. Richard hadn't seen a Spanish coin or English one since he'd arrived in Virginia. His first thought was just to see a coin again; his second was to find out how he could get some for himself. Instinct told him he should find out how to do that in some way other than by asking.

  Work stopped here as elsewhere on Saturday noon. On Sundays, the English workers rowed the short distance to the Elizabeth River Parish church. For the first time in his life, Richard was eager to be at church. He was in the first boat to leave the work site and he chewed on sassafras twigs as he waited anxiously for the arrival of Anne Biggs. She didn't show up that day, or on succeeding Sundays. For weeks he speculated over what the reason might be. Was she sick? Had she died, even?

  No, not Anne, he told himself. Those born in Virginia were born already seasoned, and were much more likely to survive and grow up to have children of their own. Anne was too ornery to die anyway, he thought. She would live to take care of him when he was an old man like Uncle John. Maybe she was back with her Grandfather Ware, he consoled himself.

  On a gloriously warm Sunday in March, as Richard pondered the magic in the numbers of the new year, 1661, he saw her coming. He recognized the blue dress that he'd seen her in nearly two and a half years before. She sat aft in the broad-beamed shallop beside a man whom Richard took to be her father. He thought of the blue doublet and breeches that he'd left at Pine Haven. He wondered what she'd think of the rough kersey breeches that he wore today.

  A leather doublet and sleeves, with only a plain collar and cuffs, were the best clothes that he'd brought on this work trip. His shoes were new, though, for he'd outgrown and worn out his old ones, and he wore a new brass buckle on his leather belt. His stockings were without holes, and earlier this week he'd repeated the extraordinary and dangerous measure he'd taken before he'd seen her in church the first time. He'd sneaked away early from the men and washed his hair and body in water that was being heated by the cook. He said a quick rhyme, now, to acknowledge the good luck of doing it this very month.

  Richard maneuvered through the crowd to a spot near where the shallop would tie up. He turned his back to the drifting boat and waited nervously for the moment he'd allow himself to be seen. He made himself think of Anne's father and the impression he must make on the man.

  But what if she ignored him! Pretended she didn't know him!

  Richard turned around and gasped in genuine surprise. A man, more than six feet in height, towered over him, inches from his face.

  "Richard!" The girl's voice shrieked.

  "Excuse me, Sir!" It had happened too fast!

  "Boy, you must move or I'll tumble into the river."

  Richard jumped aside as the man and girl stepped away from the riverbank.

  "Richard, what are you doing here?" Anne had regained control and so had Richard, but he'd noted the excitement in her voice when she first said his name.

  "Anne," Richard bowed low. "I finally found out where Lower Norfolk County was, and I decided to build you a courthouse."

  "Who is this, Anne?" the man said to her.

  "Father, this is the cooper boy I told you about. Richard Williams. The nephew of Mister John Williams?"

  "Oh yes. You are the boy who was so helpful to my father-in-law."

  Richard was already tired of both of them referring to him as a "boy."

  "I learned soon that the men of Virginia survive by helping one another, Sir."

  "That's the essence of it, Boy. We are each dependent on the other. And you are here with Ingolbreitsen in the construct of our new courthouse?"

  "I am on loan, Sir. Helping my master and Captain Ingolbreitsen and Lower Norfolk County. And doing what I can to prepare for my own future," Richard added.

  An elegant gentleman interrupted them, and Mister Biggs turned away. Richard was struck by the contrast in appearance of the two men. The stranger was a richly dressed as anyone Richard had seen in the colony. He wore a curled wig in the style that was reportedly worn by King Charles. His long buttoned coat and the bright yellow doublet and breeches beneath were buttoned and beribboned. The high-heeled shoes sported silver buckles and his padded and well-fitted hose were silk. Mister Biggs wore a suit of fine black wool with a scarlet cloak and a regular, feathered, broad-brimmed hat. His shoes were black leather with black ribbon ties. His collar and cuffs were only trimmed with simple lace. Richard was glad for his rough kersey. And, even though he coveted the fashion of the stranger, he was impressed that Mister Biggs was the commanding figure of the two.

  "You look well, Anne," Richard said. She had grown an inch in the last six months, and she definitely had breasts. "Your grandparents are well, I trust?"

  "Yes, thank you." She blushed as she caught his gaze darting over her.

  "Have you been well? I haven't seen you at church in all the Sundays I've been coming." He was afraid he'd betrayed his anger and frustration.

  Anne's eyes twinkled.

  "I'm sorry you were disappointed. This is the parish vestry church. Father and I usually attend the Chapel of Ease up the Southern Branch, nearer our home."

  Her smile warmed and broadened.

  "Welcome to Lower Norfolk. It's good to have you visit in our county."

  "It's beautiful," he said, and blushed like the boy he was trying not to be.

  After the services and the horse races, Richard was told to row back to the courthouse site with Captain Ingolbreitsen.

  The incoming tide made for an easier pull upstream. Richard was glad to be occupied with rowing, and he was glad that the other rowers were Dutchmen who spoke little English. Most of the other men on board were drunk and sleeping, leaving him to dream and plan.

  Spring and the new year and Anne had come to him together. There'd been few moments for them to be alone this day, but he was content. He pulled on his oar, thinking every stroke was one more moment closer to the time when they would have a life. Uncle John would call this time "preparation." He could feel his muscles growing and his strength increasing with every pull.

  "Why are you grinning, Boy?"

  Captain Bartholomew Ingolbreitsen was watching him.

  "I like my work, Sir," Richard said, and despite himself, he laughed aloud.

  "You like your work?" Ingolbreitsen asked, then burst out with a hearty laugh of his own.

  "That's good, my boy, that's good, for there's plenty of it yet to come," he said.

  "Yes, Sir," Richard said, and tried to stop smiling. Ingolbreitsen had never spoken directly to him before.

  "Come to my cabin in the morning, Boy, as soon as you've had your bread and beer."

  Richard's smile was gone. Had they discovered that he'd sneaked an extra pint of rum? Or, was it about the scuffle he'd had with Ingolbreitsen's best joiner at last night's cockfight? Maybe someone had complained about him carving bowls for sale on the Sabbath.

  He continued rowing. He'd find out in the morning. The stars were coming out and this had been a wonderful day.

  Early the next morning, Richard drank his beer and chewed on the pone while standing by the sawpit fire. A heavy fog obscured the river and most of the camp, blowing through the standing frame of the courthouse, and reminding him of a bear skeleton that he'd stumbled over in the forest trip with Opeechcot. The fog moved through the beams and joists like the forest mist had crept through the beast's ribs. He held his rabbit's foot as he went to Ingolbreitsen's cabin. He knocked hard on the heavy door.

  "Come."

  Ingolbreitsen was sitting by the fire in a high-backed chair. Building plans for the courthouse were spread upon a large table. A heavy curtained bed filled one corner of the room, and with two chests and a hogshead, the house was crowded.

  "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

  "Come by the fire and dry yourself, Boy," the man said.

  Richard stood in the light and warmth of the blazing fire.

  "Cedar burns fast, but it burns hot. And I like the smell of it," Ingolbreitsen said. "But yo
u know all about different woods, don't you? That's your job, isn't it?"

  "Part of it, yes Sir," Richard said.

  "This fire should have been the roof of our building," the Captain said, moving his boots away from the heat.

  Richard had heard that the boat bringing shingles for the roof had sunk last week when it struck something underwater. Only two bundles had been salvaged.

  "I'm taking you with me to get the new one. And I'll be watching you," he said. "Go tell Heinrich that you're going with us." He nodded Richard's dismissal.

  With some effort of the tongue, Richard relayed the message to the Dutchman, then went to his hut and put on his worn-out shoes and his torn hose and canvas breeches, knowing that he could get wet on the trip. He tied a kerchief over his head and knotted it on the side, as the Dutch sailors did, then pulled his Monmouth cap on top to keep in some warmth. He tied another kerchief about his neck.

  Ingolbreitsen and Richard rode with two sailors in one shallop, followed by another light vessel. The captain slept and snored as Richard whittled at a tankard he'd been hired to make. He'd trade it for tobacco.