Story of a Dead Man

Story of a Dead Man

By: Chris Key

My name is Pierce Montgomery. I hail from a small village town just outside of London. Seven years ago I was a young boy who set out for adventure to the new world. Today I write this as an old man. The following is my story of our colony at Roanoke and the series of tragic events that beset it.

The journey to the new world was a long and tedious one. I was part of an expedition under the authority of John White. From what I remember if my journey I sailed on a ship named Dorothy. The quarters were very cramped and smelled of mildew. The ship was full of a variety of different people. There were carpenters, like myself, farmers, fisherman, and explorers. There were also some people who wad no real business being on the expedition. Aristocratic people, who had no concept of work, but were there just to have a good time, hunt, and search for spoils of the new world. These people were one of the main reasons we struggled so much founding a colony. It took over three months to reach the new world and when we did I had never been so glad to see land in my life.

It was summer when we arrived so the weather was very cooperative. The first order of business for us was to build shelters and find a fresh water source. Luckily for us there was a stream near by. I being a carpenter helped build makeshift homes out of wood and rope. Farmer's tilled fields and fisherman found the best spots to throw their lines. By fall the colony was up and running relatively smoothly. Everybody did their share of work except for the people from aristocratic people from England. There were fights almost daily about the laziness of these people. They took far more from the colony than they put back in. On the other hand they were the ones who financed our trip to this beautiful new world.

Winter was a very tough time for us. Our crops died and we were very low on food. Our shelters collapsed under the weight of the snow and we didn't have enough warm clothing. Fourteen colonists died during this time. It was then that we made first contact with the savages. They called themselves the Croatoan and were apparently from a small island located in the bay. They were dark skinned people who wore the furs of dead animals on their backs and spoke a strange, unknown language. They gave us food and supplies and showed us how to shelter ourselves properly in the snow and what to hunt. They seemed almost too good to be true and as it comes to be seen without a doubt were. The winter was long and hard but we managed are way through it looking forward to the spring.

Spring was better than the winter but not by much. Disease swept the colony and killed many colonist. We burned the bodies of these dead and I still remember the horrible stench that was given off. The Croatoan saw this outbreak of disease as a sign that we were not meant to be here on their land. During one night while the village was asleep I was high up in a tree that I often visited to find peace and tranquility. From where I was I had a clear view of the entire village and what I saw was horrific. The Croatoan, the same people who helped us through the hard winter were sweeping the village. They wore the complete furs of bears and deer, heads and all. They went house to house killing all grown men, women, and even the few children that there were. They would put rope around their mouths so that could not scream and wake the other colonist. I saw them plunge their hatchets into every souls chest and remove every heart. The following morning I went down to the village very quietly. I could find no traces of the rest of the