My heart raced with excitement, and my palms grew sweaty—this time, more from nervousness than the heat. We made our way up the scuttle toward daylight into open sky, the sweet river breeze, wind rustling past our ears, and the cool spray of water. Along the banks, the calls of birds and frogs seemed primeval in their simplicity. Exhilaration swept away fear.

Now I understood the attraction of this land, even with all its unknowns and challenges. This is what the pamphlet writers meant. This is what drew the imagination of Sir Francis Drake and so many others. There was something elegant and Edenlike here.

The trees—how immense! These forests were different from the English countryside, with thickets so dense they appeared impenetrable. Yet there were open fields, too. I understood the natives to be farmers as well as hunters and here their clearings indicated that.

Large grey seabirds circled overhead. Others passed us—amusing birds that looked as though they had stretched their beaks holding something far too heavy. These flew in long formations, occasionally ducking into the water to scoop fish. I had never seen any bird like this—its beak more a pot than a bill! Pelicans, Harrison called them. Janey laughed and pointed with one hand while I clasped the other, and Maggie patted my back happily. Behold, Canaan.

From Dark Enough to See the Stars in a Jamestown Sky by Connie Lapallo © 2006

When I sit in the reconstructed church at Jamestown Settlement, I can almost hear the voices of Temperance Flowerdieu Yeardley, Joan Peirce, and Maggie Deale.

We slipped into the church between services. Placing our baskets on a pew, we huddled together in the back, wiping perspiration beads off our faces. We chose a seat beneath a window, hoping to catch any breeze. The church had large, airy windows, but like the rest of the island, it remained stifling. Virginia had a pervasive heat beyond our imaginings. Biting mosquitoes replaced the stinging mayflies at sunset, as though they had arranged shifts in doling misery. Already, some of the newcomers were falling ill with summer fluxes, though we three and Janey had thus far been fortunate.

“We need a plan,” Maggie began, her voice low. There was no one near the window, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. As on ship, she saw that we women could—must, in fact—take charge for ourselves.

“Agreed,” Tempie said.

“Aye,” I added.

“First off, we know there have been no sightings of the Sea Venture since the storm hit. Have we accepted that it is likely…lost?” Maggie asked. Her tone was softer. She looked from one of us to the other. In the ensuing silence, she continued, “I do not expect to see my Hugh again.” The tears in her eyes belied the conviction of her words. “This side of heaven, I mean.”

Tempie and I glanced at each other and then dropped our heads. Was Will truly gone? And Sam? Unlike Maggie and Tempie, I had a child to tend...

From Dark Enough to See the Stars in a Jamestown Sky by Connie Lapallo © 2006

Janey sat cross-legged on the bed playing with her rag doll Bessie and her wooden marbles. The nights had a cooler edge, and the leaves slowly turned orange and yellow. We might have thought the leaf colors spectacular had they not heralded the coming winter. Feeling disquieted, we busied ourselves with chores.

Inside our home, at least, there was peace, even if all about us was turmoil.

From Dark Enough to See the Stars in a Jamestown Sky by Connie Lapallo © 2006