Colonial History in the Caribbean: St. Croix Part 3 (another unexpected connection!)

by Shannon McNear

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Some things are just too strange to be coincidence.

So this past summer, my husband's Air Guard unit took part in a joint exercise using St. Croix, part of the United States Virgin Islands, as its base. Someone came up with the idea of inviting spouses and/or family along, and thus I found myself flying out of country for the first time ever to a little island I didn't know I needed to visit.

I'll admit, I don't really have a formal bucket list. But if I did, traveling out of country and then horseback riding on the beach would be two items on that list--and I was blessed to get to do both on this trip.

I've already covered two aspects of interesting colonial history associated with St. Croix, one connected with Denmark and one with our own Hamilton, but the one which got me most excited, and felt the most personal, was something I noticed while on that ride through the tropical forest on the island's west side.

It was my first chance to go trail riding in years, and I was already geeking out over getting to be on horseback on a Caribbean island. Then, at a bend in the trail, I looked down and saw these little green apple-like fruits, growing on a small tree that had fallen alongside the trail.

A memory tickled, of an incident I'd read in John White's account of the Roanoke Colony's passage through the Caribbean.

And why were they passing through the Caribbean, you might wonder? I'm glad you asked. It's because during the Age of Exploration, seafaring men knew it was better to take advantage of ocean currents that swirl in a great, clockwise motion from the coast of Europe, southward past Spain and Africa, sweeping around to the Caribbean, and then northward again along the coast of the New World.

Ships often stopped at the various islands for provisioning. And so John White reports an incident that I allude to in my recently released novel Elinor:

The 22 [of June] we came to an anchor at an Island called Santa Cruz, where all the planters were set on land, staying there till the 25 of the same month. At our first landing on this Island, some of our women, and men, by eating a small fruit like green Apples, were fearfully troubled with a sudden burning in their mouths, and swelling of their tongues so big, that some of them could not speak. Also a child by sucking one of those women's breasts, had at that instant his mouth set on such a burning, that it was strange to see how the infant was tormented for the time: but after 24 hours it ware away of it self.

... In this Island we found no watering place, but a standing pond, the water whereof was so evil, that many of our company fell sick with drinking thereof: and as many as did but wash their faces with water, in the morning before the sun had drawn away the corruption, their faces did so burn and swell, that their eyes were shut up, and could see in five or six days, or longer. [They did later find a spring high on a rocky hill.]

A small fruit like green apples ... ? I piped up and asked the girl leading our ride what the fruits were, and she said, "Oh, that's manchineel, and they're poisonous!"

Read more about it:  The Manchineel, or 'Death Apple," Is the World's Most Dangerous Tree

(Interestingly enough, the experience reported in this article mirrors John White's!)

Our guide went on to chat at little bit about this fruit you definitely want to avoid, and then went on to tell us that there was something else called a "ganip" that looked a bit like a small lime but was absolutely delicious. And before long, we ran across some.

At our guide's urging, we all collected a few. I hesitated--here I was, an adult of somewhat older persuasion and uncertain digestive sensitivity; would sampling this out in the wild be a mistake? But then I decided to take the risk. The skin was tender and popped easily when I bit the tiny fruit--about the size of a Scuppernong grape--and when I squeezed the juicy pulp into my mouth, it reminded me in texture and taste of something between a mango and a peach. There wasn't a lot of pulp surrounding the pit, but our guide was right about how good they tasted. I had several.

And fortunately, I never suffered any digestive distress, either.

A few articles about ganips:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melicoccus_bijugatus

https://www.vinow.com/blog/nature/local-fruit-genips/

https://www.plantsandhealers.org/tropical-fruits-of-the-caribbean/

I wonder whether the English colonists thought they were getting ganips when they tried the manchineel?

But here was the thing. I'd completely forgotten whether John White had specified on which island this particular misadventure took place. But do you see it--Santa Cruz? That's the older name for St. Croix, the Spanish version of the name--and the people of the island still call themselves "Cruzan" after that name.

How cool to find that I'd walked shores where my Lost Colonists might have walked, ridden through a forest where they might have wandered.

The CORA Tree

The CORA Tree, Hatteras Island, North Carolina

Anyone familiar with the history of the Lost Colony of Roanoke Island has heard how John White, the colony's governor (and artist for earlier expeditions), sent back to England for supplies but unable to return for three years, found the carved inscriptions on a tree and then one of the posts surrounding the palisade at the abandoned town site. "CRO," one read, and then more fully, "CROATOAN," clearly indicating where the colonists had moved in his absence. White knew very well that Croatoan referred to another island about fifty miles to the south--what is now the southernmost stretch of Hatteras Island--and the people who lived there.) It was made into this big mystery because people forgot for a while (maybe willfully) that this was an actual location name.

Theories abound, of course, on what happened to the colonists from there. It's generally agreed that at least some moved inland, and one historian theorizes, drawing from records of Spanish voyages between 1587 and 1590 (the colony's arrival on Roanoke to White's return), that at least one major hurricane hit the Outer Banks and forced any survivors to relocate.

What if "CRO" was not the only clue the Lost Colonists left for White, or others, to find them?

In my research over the past year, I kept running across mention of the CORA Tree--an ancient oak located on Hatteras Island, North Carolina, rivaling the Angel Oak in Charleston, South Carolina, in age. The most persistent legend to explain the four letters carved into this tree involves a young woman accused of being a witch who, as she's tied to the tree in preparation for being burned, disappears in a flash of lightning that left only her name carved there.

Uh huh.

Another theory emerges. What if CORA was early colonial shorthand for yet another region and/or people group of the time, just as CRO was?

On John White's famed Pars Virginia map, a region due west and a little south of Croatoan bears the label Cwareuuoc, often shortened to Coree, which very easily could have been shortened to CORA. Croatoan itself derived from the native Kuh-rah-wo-tain, and another group, Secotan, from Suh-kwoh-tain. So it seemed very plausible to me that there might be a connection there.

Naturally, I wanted to see the tree for myself, so on my last research trip to Hatteras earlier this year, I determined to find it. Bless my husband for indulging these little scavenger hunts!

To my surprise, we found the tree right without any trouble--a single oak, located on a grassy median on a quiet residential street, a few blocks away from the waterfront. We parked and got out.

The letters are still there, and fairly legible:

Y'all know this was more than enough to delight this history nerd's heart! Sadly I didn't get more than a couple of good photos--it took a video to even remotely capture the sprawling splendor of this beauty, which did indeed remind me of the Angel Oak in miniature.

One commentator says that this being a water oak, it's highly unlikely this tree is the 300+ years old it's purported to be. But the Angel Oak is at least that old. And while the question is always asked, How do we know it is, I would counter with, Well, how do we know it isn't?

Here is where history bleeds into the speculative, which happens a lot. In this case, though, I'm okay with that, because it makes for some interesting early colonial story fodder.

Researching the 16th Century: Roanoke Island Festival Park

 Another photo-heavy post, so be patient as they load ...

The morning of our second day on North Carolina's Outer Banks, on my quest for on-site research for my upcoming Lost Colony novel Elinor, my daughters and I visited the Roanoke Island Festival Park. Despite the indoor museum areas being closed due to COVID-19 restrictions, I found the open areas extremely interesting and helpful. A walking path leads visitors through a reconstructed indigenous Algonquin village, complete with a ton of informational placards and recordings of words spoken in the native language and native folk stories. I wanted to linger, of course, much longer than the time we actually had.

One of the things that made this so fun is having studied the work of John White, an English artist of some renown for having accompanied three of the first expeditions to the New World, whose illustrations and portraits of native life and people provide the only visual window we have of this time. They've done an amazing job of bringing White's watercolors to life, showing details such as how fish were broiled above large, open fires, to reproduction longhouses and various furnishings.

(And yes, this is the same John White who was later appointed Governor of the new colony, whose granddaughter was the first English child born on American shores.)

Above, my youngest daughter gets into the spirit of reenacting historical trade between Algonquins and the English, beckoning us into the longhouse while reading from one of the signs discussing the importance and details of trade. :-)

Below, I snapped probably a dozen photos of the inside of a longhouse and the details of its construction, but this will give you a good idea of what it looks like.

Sidetracking from the native town area, we walked down to the waterfront, where a beautiful 16th century reproduction ship lay at the dock. My attention was, predictably, torn between the ship and the scenery stretching on both sides.

A few shots of the Elizabeth II, which we enjoyed getting to explore as much as they would allow, again, given pandemic restrictions. (Better photos of the entire ship are are the park website and Facebook page.)

An intriguing little sign I found hanging inside the ship ... good advice for anyone!

We then returned to the Indian town, where my girls were intrigued by the model of a dugout canoe ...

 

A model of one of the fishing weirs commonly used by the Algonquin peoples out in the bay to trap and catch fish ...

And again my youngest literally gets into the fun by pretending to paddle away in the canoe. :-)

After that, we entered the English settlement area, where among other items of interest, we found a winsome young blacksmith plying his trade. I always find this sort of thing far too fascinating, but with a family meeting to make in another part of the state, we had to say our goodbyes and move on.

The display of a native garden and nearby platform was also interesting. The Algonquin would employ young boys to sit and keep watch over the garden, to make sure deer, raccoon, bears, and other critters wouldn't steal their livelihood. Cultivated crops included the usual corn, peas or beans, and squash, with parsnips, persimmons, strawberries, mulberries, grapes, prickly pear fruit, chestnuts, and acorns also gathered from the wild. Their diet was far more varied than one might expect!

This is definitely a site I'd like to return to when I have more time. In the meantime, they have a lot of interesting reading at both the main website and Facebook page, and it proved an extremely helpful resource, even on a very rushed research trip!

Researching the 16th Century: Fort Raleigh National Historic Site

In a year full of uncertainty and isolation, I was blessed to not only sign another book contract, but also do onsite research for the story. Daughters of the Lost Colony: Elinor is scheduled for a December 2021 release. This was not a story I expected to get to tell--but I am so excited to present it to y'all!

After writing already about the Lost Colony and where recent research indicates they went after leaving Roanoke Island, I'll be sharing more bits and pieces of the story: key players in the Lost Colony saga and maybe even some of the political aspects of the era.

But first, the setting itself.

An important part of research for me is to walk the ground where my characters walked, when possible. To get a taste of what a particular area might have looked, smelled, and felt like, especially in a historical context. So after my niece's wedding in July, near Boston, my daughters and I headed to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. My journey took me in reverse order from history, with Buxton on Hatteras Island being our first stop, but Fort Raleigh National Historic Site is properly the first location to be covered chronologically. It's where Ralph Lane of the disastrous 1585-86 expedition built an earthenworks fort, and where the 1587 expedition landed, originally just to check on the 15-some men left to hold an English presence in the New World but then temporarily settling there after being informed their navigator would take them no further. The actual site of the resulting village and its palisade fort is unknown, but archaeological research found the location of Lane's fort, and a reconstruction was commissioned in the 1950's.

Informational plackards at the site explain that it's obvious the fort would have been too small to shelter an entire settlement. The exact site of the village Lane and his men built then abandoned, and the 15 occupied for however long, is unknown, but that would be where the Lost Colony first took up residence, so I had fun imagining what this area might have looked like with a cluster of English cottages nearby. 

 

The ampitheater belonging to the modern-day Lost Colony drama production is also located here, so we poked about there as well. It provides a lovely view of the ocean, and the currently unused Elizabethan-inspired buildings added to the atmosphere of historical mystery. And of course the ever-gorgeous maritime forest of pine and oak possess a charm all their own!

 

 

Outside the entrance to the ampitheater lies the beginning of a walking trail, with paths leading down to the beach. We didn't have time for the whole route, but a side path led us to a spot where I wanted to linger and linger, overlooking Albemarle Sound. You can bet my imagination ran wild here!

 

It isn't hard to envision what those first English explorers might have seen when first setting foot here, how enchanted they must have been with the fragrance of the pines and the tallness of the trees, and how strange and yet a part of the forest the native people might have appeared . . .

And how those same people might have felt, seeing their first Europeans, with their equally strange clothing and armor . . .

To be continued!

America's Oldest Unsolved Mystery: Solved?

"The Lost Colony," Sheppard & Linton

 A few months ago I wrote about America's earliest colonial history (including a post about French Huguenot efforts and the conflict with Spain), and I referenced Janet Grunst's post on the Lost Colony. For much of this year I've been awash in research on this particular slice of history, in preparation for my upcoming novel, Elinor, first of a new series titled Daughters of the Lost Colony. What an amazing journey it's been so far!

Shortly after my visit to the Outer Banks, I discovered Scott Dawson, an author native to Hatteras Island, where many believe the Lost Colony settlers removed to after leaving Roanoke Island. Frustrated with Lost Colony myth, much at odds with local history, Dawson embarked upon a quest to prove what so many already suspected: that after John White, governor of the first official English colony on American shores, unhappily returned to England to plead their case to Raleigh and the court of Queen Elizabeth I, the settlers took shelter with their own known allies of the time, the Croatoan tribe. These were the family and people of Manteo, the Native American who accompanied the previous two expeditions between England and the New World, and who later accepted baptism into the Christian faith and the title of "Lord of Roanoke." (See more at the Wiki article on the Roanoke Colony.)

Eventually aided by an archaeological team out of England's University of Bristol, Dawson chose a site and started digging. (He stated in a recent online talk I attended that his grandmother told him where to dig.) In his recent book, The Lost Colony and Hatteras Island, he describes the years-long process, and the layers of artifacts encountered, as well as artifacts and clues from other sources. The main thing he wanted to prove, he says both in the article "The Lost Colony Wasn't Really Lost" from the Outer Banks Voice and the recent talk, is that when John White returned in 1590 and saw the word "CROATOAN" carved head-high on a tree, there was no big mystery on where the colony had gone, at least not in the immediate sense. White had given them very clear instructions on how to leave word, and he knew this referred to both the people and the place of their residence--what is now known as Hatteras Island. There was no trace of any mark that would have indicated distress or trouble. The colonists had known before White's reluctant departure for England that Roanoke Island would not support them, and their best chance for survival lay with the only people who might be sympathetic to them, people who knew well how to fish, hunt, and make a good living from the Outer Banks.

If this seems disappointing and anticlimactic, well, it really isn't. There is still plenty of scope for adventure and mystery. Many historians, Dawson included, discuss the likelihood of division among the settlers, and the possibility of some moving to the mainland. Until very recently (the Dare Stones notwithstanding--more about those later!), there was no solid evidence as to where they might have gone. Just a couple of weeks ago, however, I found the article "Lost Colony Moved Inland," from Coastal Review Online. I am eager to see more on this effort!

In the meantime, take a gander at Scott Dawson's group, the Croatoan Archaeological Society. Fascinating stuff for us early American history geeks!

In the Name of Religious Freedom

French Florida

Or, America's Earliest Colonial History, Part 2.

Right after my last post, a friend messaged me:

I saw your Colonial Quill post. You know how every time one thinks one has history down and then another obscure fact crops up that changes everything? Yeah, that. The first interest in colonizing America wasn't fueled by Queen Elizabeth, who was hoping to stop Spanish expansion. Before that, Jean Ribault landed on the shores of Florida hoping to set up a colony. For Huguenots, I believe.

https://jeanribault.org/

Take a peek at this beautiful website. You're welcome. Makes me long to write a story about this man and the people he sought to defend--although now, alas, I am under contract for a story featuring another, but maybe not so different, group.

That group would be the famed Lost Colonists of Roanoke Island.

These days, even the word "colonial" has a bad name. I've written about this before.

Emperor Gojong of Joseon (Korea)

Truth is, every empire down through history has sought to grow their holdings and increase their wealth by annexing other lands and peoples. I was recently reminded of this while watching, of all things, a Korean drama with my youngest girl, set during the early 1900's, a particularly turbulent time of Korean history. Joseon (Korea) was just beginning to open up to Western ways, just beginning to not immediately put Christians to death, and struggling to find her place between China, Russia, America, and Japan. The latter, that tiny but ridiculously ambitious island nation, made no secret of its desire to make Korea a colony of Japan. Ruthlessness and political maneuvering were the standard of the day, and corruption abounded.

Good Queen Bess at her coronation

Not so very different from the time of Queen Elizabeth. "Good Queen Bess" furthered her father's move in breaking away from the Church of Rome by establishing the Church of England. Bloodshed between Catholics and Protestants abounded, and religious views were the standard by which political views were judged. Ireland suffered a harsh and bloody takeover by England, for reasons which I will not get into here, but doubtless that set the precedent for what later happened on American shores. When Elizabeth granted Sir Walter Raleigh his charter for a colony in the New World, however, she was very clear that it was at least in part for the purpose of furthering the Gospel to unreached peoples, but plenty of folk in England were unhappy enough with the way things were going in the newborn Anglican Church that they wished to either purify the Church (thus, Puritans) or create their own group entirely (Separatists).

Most feared, however, were the Spanish. Spain already had holdings across South America, and their treasure galleons were the most coveted prize of English privateers. Staunchly Catholic to the point of meting out torture and death to those who disagreed (the Spanish Inquisition, anyone?), they were equally ruthless on the sea. The English were by far not the only ones to suffer at Spanish hands. As outlined in the website I shared above, French Huguenots sought refuge on what is now the Florida and South Carolina coast, but were seen as a threat to Spain's supremacy in the New World and met with death once their Protestant leanings were made known.

Marker at Fort Matanzas National Park

Lee Miller theorizes in her book Roanoke: Solving the Mystery of the Lost Colony that the group which set sail in 1587 under Governor John White, seeking to establish the first permanent English settlement in the New World, were Separatists. If so, the fate of French Huguenots would have been fairly fresh, and avoiding the Spanish at all costs would have been uppermost on their minds. Brandon Fullam makes the case in The Lost Colony of Roanoke: New Perspectives that this would have been a good reason why they settled on Roanoke Island rather than going north to the Chesapeake as originally planned. Maybe it's just my own firm Christian faith, but I find the Separatist theory quite compelling. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that a people group migrated in search of religious freedom, would it?

The Earliest Colonial History

The coast of "Virginia," by John White

DISCLAIMER: Our country's own recent events might make us shy from terms such as "colonial," but I seek only to report history as described by contemporaries of whatever time period I am examining. In no way do I condone the actions of men (or women) who lived in those times. The fact is, certain events took place, and certain actions resulted from those events, and political corruption has always been a thing. Just within the past two weeks, while researching for this post and even while watching things for entertainment, I'm reminded that genocide was practiced even among those who considered themselves civilized (note the English subjugation of Ireland in the 1500's) and colonization was certainly not the sole purview of Europeans (note the Japanese takeover of Korea in the early 1900's). Making such observations might sound like I'm excusing the actions of (some of) my own forebears, but I assure you it is not. I only say so to address the belief that injustices are a primarily "white" problem. The entirety of history is just awful in so many ways.

So ... what do we think of, in the context of America, when someone says "Colonial History"? Most of us, I'm sure, think of the War for American Independence, possibly of Daniel Boone, and before that, of the Mayflower, Plymouth Rock, and Jamestown.

Our country's European roots go even further than that, however. Though the period between Columbus and the Mayflower is usually viewed as a misty void, the English quest to colonize the New World was first fueled by Queen Elizabeth I, who sought lands not already claimed by Christian rulers to add to the fame and fortunes of Britain.

A very dapper Sir Walter Raleigh

After the 1583 voyage to Newfoundland by Sir Humphrey Gilbert ended in disaster (Gilbert perished at sea on his way home), the patent passed to his younger half brother, Sir Walter Raleigh. Wasting no time, Raleigh sent an expedition to what was then known as Virginia--named after Elizabeth herself, the "Virgin Queen." The first colonist--more a military endeavor than a serious permanent settlement yet--landed on Roanoke Island in 1585, on the Outer Banks of what is now North Carolina. Those original colonists returned to England shortly after, just missing their supply ship. This second wave left a contingent of 15 men to hold the area.

The next serious attempt at colonization took place in 1587, and the group of 117-some included women and children. These brave souls comprised what would later be called "the Lost Colony." A brief introduction to that story was provided by our own Janet Grunst, in her post "America's Oldest Unsolved Mystery."

More on that later, as over the next few months, I'll be looking at some of the key players in these early attempts at colonizing North America. :-)

America’s Oldest Unsolved Mystery

I recently had the opportunity to visit the Outer Banks of North Carolina and fulfill a 40 year wish to see the production of The Lost Colony on Roanoke Island. This popular summer attraction was first performed seventy-eight years ago, making it the oldest outdoor symphonic drama in the country.

On the way to the Outer Banks, I recalled my parents telling me about another drama that took place that same summer on Roanoke Island. That event occurred seventy-eight years ago to the day I would be attending the play.

On an early June day in 1937, a young Naval Lieutenant stationed in Norfolk, Virginia planned on taking his sweetheart on a picnic to propose marriage.

July 1937

That couple in their mid twenties was my parents. Whether it took my father hours to work up his courage or whether it was his intent, they ended up driving all the way to Roanoke Island, North Carolina. A 200 mile round trip was no small Saturday excursion in 1937. It was also the subject of a lot of teasing over their 43 year marriage, since, at the time, transporting a single female across a state line was a felony.

So now, seventy-eight years later, I had tickets and was on my way to see the play I’d been waiting so long to see. The Lost Colony, a Tony award winning play was written by Pulitzer Prize winning playwright Paul Green.

The musical pageant is based on accounts of Sir Walter Raleigh's attempts to establish a settlement on Roanoke Island, then part of the Colony of Virginia. Early in the play we watched Raleigh lead a group of men in 1585 to Roanoke on primarily a military mission. These settlers returned to England with two Indian leaders, Manteo and Wanchese, because of a shortage of food and altercations they had with other natives.

Opening Scene for "The Lost Colony"

John White, Governor of the new colony, led another group of 117 men, women and children in July 1587 to the existing Roanoke Island settlement. The next month, the Governor’s daughter, Eleanor Dare, wife of Ananias Dare gave birth to Virginia Dare, the first English child born on American soil. Ten days later John White sailed back to England for a fresh load of supplies. During this time a major naval war broke out between England and Spain. Queen Elizabeth I insisted every ship would be needed to confront the invading Spanish Armada. Governor White was not able to return to his wife, daughter, granddaughter and other settlers at Roanoke until August 1590. When he arrived, no trace was found of the colony or its settlers. The only clue was the single word “Croatoan” carved into a wooden post. In the past 428 years there have been many scenarios speculated on what happened to these colonists, but no one really knows. At the time the settlers did enjoy a friendlier relationship with the local Indians, so it is possible that they joined with the friendly Croatoan natives in order to survive.

The Lost Colony production was first rate and priced at $30 a ticket. It had elaborate Elizabethan costumes, particularly for the scenes taking place in London. Watching the scene transitions was fascinating. The singing and dancing were nothing short of a Broadway play. I was particularly moved by the Christian emphasis in the Colonist’s hymns, prayers and dialog.

Memorial Stone to the original Roanoke Settlers

Given that our nation was in the midst of the Great Depression when this award winning production was written, it is no surprise that it focuses on the ideals of freedom, struggle and perseverance. The names of the people who lived there so long ago are memorialized everywhere in the towns and on street signs throughout Roanoke Island.