The Red Bird and the Devil

1

FALLING CREEK, VIRGINIA COLONY

March 22, 1622

In the early morning hours of March 22, 1622, Good Friday, the devil appeared at Falling Creek in Virginia Colony. Fire and brimstone poured from the base of an ominous stone tower into the pristine morning air.

Christopher Woodward had moved here from England three years earlier to work on the Falling Creek blast furnace, set deep in the wilderness fifty miles from Jamestown. Half of the workers had died from disease; only with the aid of Powhatan Indians, cutting trees and making charcoal for the furnace, were the ironworkers able to finish it.

The furnace was finally ready for its first test. The men fired the charcoal at midday and engaged the waterwheel to power the bellows. The workers took off the rest of the day, leaving one man to watch the furnace; Christopher volunteered for the first shift—he never grew tired of the beauty of Falling Creek, especially at the end of the day when the other workers had gone home. Compared to the barren landscape of ironworks he had left behind, this was a paradise; the creek that powered the waterwheel was clear, flowing out of a forest filled with wildlife. He especially loved the red birds—their cheerful song seemed to portend good things to come.

Just after sunrise on Friday, the men gathered around the blast furnace. Christopher, as the oldest, was given the honor of opening the tap. He knocked out the plug at the tower’s base; red hot molten iron flowed into the mold, and cheers rose from the elated workers’ throats.

Turning to one of the workers, Christopher said, Tommy, fetch the…. He stopped in midsentence when, to his horror, he saw Tommy slumping to the ground, an ax embedded in his head and blood running down his face, one of the Powhatan men standing over him. Armed Powhatan braves poured out of the forest surrounding the blast furnace; within minutes, all workers were dead.

Christopher Woodward Jr. learned of his father’s death and the deaths of more than 300 other colonists two days later. For once, he was glad he had left his wife behind in England when he had moved to Virginia Colony to join his father here. Once it was safe to venture out, he wrote her:

My dearest Margaret:

I begin tho plant spring crops, most of our livestock has been killed or taken, and we lack the manpower to rebuild.

The Powhatans have been trading with us, working in our fields and our homes, without incident. Our hopes that we could educate their children and teach them to adopt Christianity have been dashed; they are opposed to our very presence here. Many in the colony want to raid their towns and take revenge. I am undecided about what we should do. It is a matter of them or us, and few are willing to give up and go home. As a Christian, I cannot accept the idea of slaughtering them as they intended for us. But we cannot live together peacefully with them any longer. I know that we had earlier planned on you, William, and Thomas coming to Virginia once I became established, but I do not think it is safe at present. I could not forgive myself if harm came to you or our son here.

I still believe that our future lies here in Virginia, but the next year or two will be challenging.

I have not heard from Thomas for some time; the last I heard, he had finished Merchant Taylors’ School in London and was looking for work. His son must now be about two. I know that my brother may wish to come here in hopes of joining attacks on the Indians to avenge our father’s death. If so, do what you can to dissuade him. Please write me with more positive news than what I am telling you. I miss you and cannot wait until we are together.

Your loving husband, Christopher

Conditions were difficult after the raid; Christopher realized he had it better than many colonists as he only had himself to care for. Most crops had been destroyed, and there was no further trading with the Powhatan for food. He joined several raiding parties, burning Powhatan towns and destroying their crops, as they had done to the colonists, hoping for but not finding some satisfaction for his father’s death.

2

LONDON

December 1646

Thomas Woodward was in a foul mood, even more so than usual. The Scots had taken King Charles prisoner, and the end now seemed in sight for the monarchy. It was time to reach out to his brother Christopher in Virginia Colony. As best he knew, Christopher now had a large family and had become a successful tobacco planter.

My dear brother Christopher,

I know that I have been remiss in not writing you, and we have a lot to catch up on. I have been appointed as the Assay Master of the Royal Mint. The pay is low, but I have little to do in that position, allowing me to pursue my other business interests.

As you may have heard, the war is not going well for the monarchy. Oliver Cromwell is a fanatic, and I fear he will ruin England if he takes power. Over my strong objections, my sons sided with Cromwell—John joined the cavalier army as a surgeon, and Thomas Jr. enlisted in the cavalry. Both have since seen the error of their ways, and we are again on speaking terms. I blame myself in part for the anger. You know that I have always been outspoken in my beliefs, but we must support our king who answers only to God, not to Parliament.

If the Parliamentarians take power, I will most likely lose everything I have worked for in London, including my position at the Royal Mint. If that happens, I may well fulfill my promise to emigrate to Virginia.

Turning to other topics, my son John and his wife had a second child, Henry, born in October. I can’t recall whether your son William has yet married. He should be about John’s age, who just turned twenty-one.

Last we spoke, you were doing well in Virginia Colony as a tobacco planter. Have matters finally been resolved with the Indians? I heard that they have been subdued and have pledged obedience to England. I still cannot forgive how they killed our father. He was a pious and godly man and believed that he could help to bring them into the light. It is unfortunate that they were unwilling to become Christians and accept the word of the true God.

If I am compelled to emigrate to Virginia, my family may go as well. There are few opportunities for ambitious young men in London, and if Cromwell and the Parliamentarians take power, there will be even fewer.

I promise to try to be a better brother and stay in touch with you in the future. I’ve always been difficult to get along with, and the civil war has only made me more so.

Your loving brother, Thomas

3

LONDON

April 1649

After visiting his last patient of the day, John Woodward returned home, a long walk from London’s outskirts. Henry and John Jr. ran to the door and threw their arms around his knees in delight. Mary, kissing him on the cheek, said, Your father came by this morning. He wants to have a meeting tomorrow with you and your brother. He said it was important but would not tell me about it. John replied, Knowing Thomas, I guess it was about King Charles’ execution. He’s been in a dark mood ever since.

Thomas was still at work when John and his brother arrived. Half an hour later, he stomped into the house and growled, Some idiot in the melting house added too much copper to the mix and ruined an entire batch of sterling ingots. As the Royal Mint’s Assay Master, he was responsible for the purity of its coinage, so his mood was understandable.

Thomas continued, Sir Robert Harley called me to his office this morning and told me that he is resigning as Master of the Mint. My job would have been secure as long as he was there, but Parliament has already chosen his replacement, someone who I consider to be my enemy. I have no doubt one of his first acts will be to fire me.

After downing a glass of claret, he continued, I have often thought about this day since it became clear that Cromwell was winning the war. The abolition of the monarchy gives me little choice—I have decided to emigrate to Virginia Colony. My brother Christopher is well settled there and has always said we are welcome there.

Refilling his glass, he continued, As you know, your grandfather died in the 1622 Indian uprising. But my brother assures me that the heathens have been defeated and are now subservient to the colony. Any of you that wish to join me are welcome but know that life will be hard there at first. We will be starting fresh with no employment, no land, and few connections.

John spoke first. This is no surprise to us. Mary and I have discussed what we would do if you left the Mint. Most of my income comes from treating injured workers there. Without you, I expect this would end; I wouldn’t be able to support my family.

Thomas Jr. added, And I would be fired from the Mint, too, as I am there only because of your position.

They discussed their father’s decision late into the evening, the brothers agreeing that they could not continue to live in London without their incomes from the Mint. There were few opportunities elsewhere in England, and Virginia Colony seemed an attractive option. There was land available at low cost, tobacco plantations were prospering, and the colony’s hard times were behind it. Other supporters of Charles I were also fleeing England for Virginia so Thomas could make political connections, and his brother Christopher could help them get settled. John’s children, Henry and John Jr., were now three and five, old enough for the voyage. Thomas said he would be willing to loan his children funds to help them get established. By evening’s end, they had arrived at a unanimous decision to leave that year.

In early September, Thomas announced to his sons they would be leaving for Virginia Colony that month. "My friend Henry Norwood found a ship that can take us to Jamestown, The Virginia Merchant, a good-sized ship of 300 tons with thirty cannons. It will sail from Gravesend in mid-September. Norwood assures me that its Captain, John Lockier, is a skilled seaman. The passage is six pounds per person; as I promised, I will pay the cost."

4

VIRGINIA COLONY

1650

Thomas’ friends were mistaken about Captain Lockier’s competence. Not only had he failed to provision the ship with adequate food for the 200 passengers, but he also sailed it into two storms that almost sank it. By the end of the voyage, the passengers were reduced to eating rats, purchased from opportunistic crewmen, for sustenance. Fortunately for the Woodwards, Thomas could outbid the others to put broiled rats on their table.

Four months after leaving Gravesend on a voyage that should have taken no more than two months, The Virginia Merchant limped into Jamestown, its deck no longer crowded with passengers—sixty had perished from hunger, and twenty had been left behind on an island off the coast. The town’s residents gathered in shock at the sight of the floating wreck, then quickly went to the aid of the passengers, carrying those who were too weak to walk. The Woodwards were able to disembark under their own power, although Mary, who had secretly been giving much of her meager portion of the food to her children, had to lean on John for support. Most of their possessions were destroyed, so they had little else other than the clothes on their backs.

Thomas shepherded his family to the Ship’s Tavern and Inn and introduced himself to the innkeeper, "We just arrived from London on The Virginia Merchant. My brother Christopher Woodward was to leave instructions for contacting him."

The keeper replied, You’ve not heard—your brother fell ill and died a month ago. His son William is taking care of his affairs; he lives at Shirley Plantation, thirty miles upriver.

This was unwelcome news—even though Thomas had never been close to Christopher, he had been their only contact in Virginia Colony.

Thomas had met his nephew William when Christopher’s family visited London and thought he had seemed undisciplined; they had not gotten along.

Saying he had hit it off with William, John offered to write him a note explaining the family’s situation.

After hearing from the innkeeper that there was no lodging available, Thomas asked, If you had rooms, what would they cost? Receiving an answer, Thomas placed a stack of coins, fresh from the Royal Mint, on the table, double the quoted price. Not only did the Woodwards now have rooms, but the innkeeper also agreed to deliver John’s note to William at Shirley Plantation.

William greeted them two days later. After Thomas offered condolences for William’s father’s death, he asked if William would help them find temporary lodgings until the family could arrange for a permanent home.

William replied, I heard you might be coming to Virginia and will help you to settle. My mother is still living in her home, and I live in a small cabin, so there is no extra space. But I have Colonel Hill’s permission to use an empty house he owns on Shirley Plantation—you can stay there for now.

As they sailed up the James River on the rising tide, William pointed to the tobacco fields lining the riverbanks. We recently finished tobacco harvesting, so the fields are empty; the tobacco is in the curing barns. At Shirley Plantation, we use indentured servants for our labor, but some other plantations also use African slaves.

Arriving at the family home, William introduced them to his mother. Although not yet over her husband’s death, she greeted them graciously, inviting them for dinner.

Over dinner, the family discussed their options. William said, As you saw yesterday, Shirley Plantation is far upriver from Jamestown and only exists to grow tobacco. We recently bought several hundred acres in the wilderness near Fort Henry some fifty miles to the north on the Appomattox River. I’ve thought of moving there someday as I have no desire to be a planter. My mother also owns a hundred acres along Pagan Point Creek downriver from here. It is not yet built up like Jamestown, but my father always believed it would be soon.

By the end of dinner, the Woodwards had agreed that John and his family would settle on the Pagan Point land; reluctantly, John said he would ask his father for a loan for the cost of building a home there and, in the meantime, would start building his surgical practice in the colony.

5

VIRGINIA COLONY

November 1652

In Jamestown to pick up some surgical supplies shipped from London, John saw his cousin William’s boat tied up at the wharf and then found him eating a midday meal in the Ship’s Tavern.

Hello William, it’s been some months since I last saw you. May I join you?

After catching up on local news, William said, I hear Thomas was appointed Clerk of Isle of Wight County.

John replied, Yes, my father is prospering here. He’s made important connections with fellow Royalists that also emigrated from England and is using his position as Clerk to buy up land.

William asked, Are you also buying land?

No. I have no desire to become a planter, and there is little other reason to buy land here. John added, I had hoped that my father’s political views might become less extreme after we moved here. That is not the case; we often go for weeks without speaking to each other. His friends are no better—all they can talk about is tobacco and politics.

William then inquired as to how John’s surgical practice was doing.

He replied, It is going well; I can now support my family without borrowing money from Thomas. But I don’t find it rewarding. I spend much of my time treating servant and slave injuries from tobacco harvesting, knowing full well they are likely to die from disease or overwork, and there’s little I can do about it. Honestly, I miss my career, as brief as it was, as an army surgeon, where I was making life or death decisions every minute.

William looked down thoughtfully at his now empty plate and then spoke. As you know, my wife and I also found life on a tobacco plantation tedious; that’s why we moved north to my land at the edge of the wilderness. We just finished our new home and Abraham Wood, who owns Fort Henry, hired me to work there. It’s not an actual fort but a trading post. Indians bring deerskins and animal furs and trade them for beads, cloth, hatchets, knives, and the like. My job is to negotiate with them. Most are Powhatans; they are no longer a threat since the peace treaty. You and Mary could move onto our land; there is a lot of room, and we would welcome having neighbors. Perhaps Wood could find work for you at the fort. Also, there is a need for your surgical skills, even though there are not many settlers here.

John replied, If it were only up to me, I would go back with you today. But I have three other mouths to feed, and the only way I know to make a living is as a surgeon. It was hard to do in London because there were too many other surgeons; even barbers could do surgery. Where you live, the problem is the opposite—there are too few patients.

William concurred but added, We raise most of our food and get venison and other meat from the Powhatan; other than that, our needs are not great. You could do the same. If you’re interested, you have an open invitation to visit us whenever you want.

William had planted a seed in John’s mind that had turned into a flourishing plant by the time he arrived back at Pagan Point. Telling Mary of his conversation with his cousin, he said, This would be a fresh start for us and far enough away from Thomas to stop his meddling in our affairs.

Mary replied that it sounded exciting but voiced the same concerns her husband had raised earlier. John—the fort is in the middle of nowhere. You are a surgeon and need patients. It sounds like there’s only a handful of people living there.

But he couldn’t let go of the idea, and finally, after several days of listening to him, she agreed to visit and see first-hand what life would be like there.

A month later, John and his family showed up unannounced at William’s house. They had carved a cozy home out of the wilderness. There was a thriving vegetable garden in the front yard, complete with chickens scratching for bugs. A milk cow was tethered under an oak tree, contentedly chewing its cud. Four pigs rooted happily in their pen, and a pair of red birds were busily building a nest in a bush by the front door. Mary fell in love with the setting immediately.

William’s wife said she needed to get to work to prepare enough food for them; Mary pitched in to help her, and John prepared a chicken that William killed for the meal. The meal was delicious, with cold milk from their spring-fed milk house for the children and fruit pie for dessert. Mary’s concerns that they would be eating squirrel stew were unfounded.

William gave them a tour of his land the next day, saying he held over a hundred acres and there would be ample room for John to build his own home on if he so wished.

He then took them to Fort Henry, where they met Abraham Wood, who said, I cannot tell you how pleased I am to have William working here. He has become invaluable by building a relationship with the Powhatan, and he is learning to speak their language.

William said, My cousin John lives in Pagan Point where he practices as a surgeon. He is interested in moving away from the tobacco plantations, and I invited him to bring his family for a visit to see if he might be interested in living here. I told him you might even have work for him at the fort.

Wood smiled at John, Your timing could not be better. One of my employees just announced he and his family want to be closer to Jamestown and are moving out within the month. William’s word is good enough for me—if you want to take over his job, it is yours. It’s not full-time and does not pay a lot, but living here is inexpensive, and you would be free to take patients as well if you can find any up here.

By the time John and Mary arrived at Pagan Point after the two-day boat ride down the river, Mary was as enthusiastic as John about relocating to Fort Henry. She felt that she and William’s wife could become close friends; both families had young children, and she hoped to hear much less of John complaining about his father.

6

FORT HENRY, VIRGINIA COLONY

June 1654

Mary called the children to breakfast—bread, cornmeal mush, and milk. Johnny wandered in, sleepy-eyed.

No Henry.

Johnny, get your lazy brother out of bed.

Johnny replied, He’s already up.

Mary: Go find him.

He searched the yard and garden; no Henry.

Coming in after morning chores, John hadn’t seen him either. Perhaps he’s at the neighbors. But they hadn’t seen him since yesterday.

Midday, still no Henry. John went up to Fort Henry to ask his cousin William if he was there. No Henry. One of the traders said he had seen a young boy walking along the river near the fort.

John headed back home. For an eight-year-old, Henry was an accomplished woodsman and knew how to swim. Presumably, he would come home when he got hungry.

By early evening, Henry’s parents were becoming genuinely concerned. He was a fearless and independent eight-year-old, but they could think of no reason for him to be gone for an entire day. Finally, just before dusk, William showed up at the house with Henry in tow.

Before his parents could speak, Henry blurted out, I joined the Indians!

William interjected, Some Powhatan braves brought Henry to the fort an hour ago. He showed up midday at their town; eventually, they brought him back to the fort and left him with me.

Henry was unharmed and so happy that his parents could scarcely bring themselves to punish him. They told him he would have to go to bed without supper; he said he had already eaten at the Indian town.

Too excited to sleep, Henry told Johnny about his adventure: I made friends with the Indians! I told a trader at the fort that my father was in their town, and he took me there. Some of them spoke English, and I asked if I could stay until my father returned. I got to play with some boys my age and shoot a bow and arrow. Then I got to help skin a rabbit. I’m going to ask father if I can go live with them. You can come and visit me.

Days later, Henry was still talking about his visit to the Powhatan town. His father explained that he was too young to leave home, and anyhow, there was a treaty with the Powhatan Indians that said settlers were not allowed to live on their lands. But if you want, I can ask William if there might be a job for you at Fort Henry, helping with chores.

Henry thought that didn’t sound as much fun as living with his new Indian friends, but at least he could still see them sometimes.

His uncle did find a job for Henry. Wood gave him the task of sweeping floors and tidying up the warehouse. His uncle met with the Powhatan men who came to trade deerskins and conversed with them in a mixture of English and Powhatan. Henry would follow him around, listening closely; soon, he could welcome the men as they arrived at the fort, "Chama wingapo—Welcome friend."

After a few months, he was a favorite of the Powhatan traders.

One morning over breakfast, John and Mary told the boys over Henry’s grumbling, You are both now old enough to start your education. If we were still in London, you would be going to school. Since we have no schools, we’ve hired a tutor to give you lessons. He will also be tutoring your cousins. He will teach you grammar, Latin, and arithmetic three days each week.

Henry missed spending every day at the fort, but the tutor was exceptional. Henry found he had a knack for languages, so grammar and Latin came easily to him; his brother was better at arithmetic.

In addition to concentrating on lessons, the boys spent hours fishing on the Appomattox River with rods made from willow switches. One day, they returned home soaking wet.

Their mother asked, What happened to you?

Johnny replied, Henry caught a huge sturgeon, as big as him. He couldn’t land it and refused to let go of his pole. It pulled him into the water, but he still wouldn’t let go. I had to jump into the river and save him.

If left up to Henry, he would have spent all his time at the fort. Taken by Henry’s interest in his business, Wood gave him more responsibilities. Soon, he was proficient at sorting the deerskins by size and weight—a doe or young deerskin weighing about a pound, a buck’s skin as much as three pounds—and grading them by quality.

Henry pestered his uncle with questions about the fort and the Indians who came there. Why do they want our goods so badly? It must be a lot of work for them to catch the deer and prepare the skins to trade.

William replied, Before the English came to Jamestown fifty years ago, the only tools the Indians had were made from stone, bone, or wood. To cut down a tree and hollow out a log for a canoe using only fire and a stone ax took weeks. Preparing animal skins was also hard. With iron axes and knives, they can make a canoe in days and prepare a deerskin in hours.

Henry was being tutored in Latin at home; at the fort, William became his tutor, teaching him the details of the Indian trade. We only trade for dressed deerskins. After the men remove the hide, the women scrape off the flesh and hair, soak the skins in water and deer brains, and pound and stretch them to make them soft. Finally, they smoke them over a fire.

Later, Henry asked, I understand why the Powhatan want to trade for our tools, but what do we do with all of the deerskins?

William replied, You’ve seen the big crates and barrels we pack the deerskins in. We ship them to London to make breeches, gloves, and shoes. There aren’t enough deer there to meet the demand, so they buy deerskins from Virginia Colony. They also purchase beaver pelts from us to make hats.

In a few months, Henry was pestering his uncle to let him go back to the Powhatan town. William said that Henry could go to their town on his next visit if his parents and Wood approved. They had no objection; Henry practiced his Powhatan on his brother every night until he fell asleep, not even noticing that Johnny was usually already asleep.

William had arranged a meeting with the Powhatan elders to discuss trade for the upcoming year. Henry was up at the crack of dawn and at the fort before his uncle. As they walked to the town, Henry asked, Uncle, how shall I address the chief? What if I get it wrong?

William replied, The chief is a kind man, but your place is to be seen and not heard. While William was conversing with the elder, Henry wandered outside and ran into several of the