Today, the Convention met again, with no visible results. Luther Martin had exhausted the delegates with a lengthy harangue on June 20 and now took the floor to call the question on the entire report issued nearly two weeks ago by the Grand Committee. Of course, some delegates wanted to debate particular provisions rather than the report as a whole. Charles Pinckney even tried something new, proposing that the Senate be apportioned on a scale of his own creation. Several States would receive one representative, others more. But it did not meet the small States uncompromising demand for equality in the Senate and was rejected. At the end of the day, nothing was decided.
Tomorrow is Sunday and a day of rest, not only as prescribed in the Bible, but as relief from a rancorous, bitterly divided Convention. This evening, George Washington found diversion by “dining at Springsbury [Springettsbury] with the Club and going to the play in the
afternoon.” The play was Shakespeare’s The Tempest.
Shakespeare has been popular in the United States from its earliest days as colonies, although plays were banned in some sections on moral grounds. John Adams frequently quotes the Bard and Thomas Jefferson recommends reading “by one who wishes to learn the full powers of the English language.” In October 1778, as commander-in-chief of the Continental Army, Washington wrote to Henry Laurens, President of the Continental Congress, confirming reports that the British might be planning to seize certain towns. He added, the British “will know, that it is our arms, not defenseless towns, they have to subdue. Till this end is accomplished, the superstructure they have been endeavoring to raise, ‘like the baseless fabric of a vision,’ falls to nothing. His image of a possible British defeat is from Act 4, Scene 1 of The Tempest, spoken by Prospero.
The Tempest was Shakespeare’s last play, first performed in England in 1611, several years after his death. It is a fanciful tale of a small group of people shipwrecked on a supposedly uninhabited island and explores various themes of colonialism, betrayal, and forgiveness. In the future, scholars will theorize The Tempest was based, in part, on the voyage of America’s first founding father, Bartholomew Gosnold.
Born in Suffolk, England, in 1571, Gosnold studied law at the Middle Temple but became fascinated with the sea and exploration. His uncle arranged for him to sail to the Azores with the Earl of Essex in 1597, privateering against the Spanish. In March 1602, accompanied by a crew of thirty-two men, Gosnold set sail from Plymouth on the Concord with the intent
of establishing an English colony in the New World. Sir Walter Raleigh had twice attempted to set up a colony, but his efforts had ended in failure, leaving a curious world never to know the fate of the “lost colony of Roanoke.”
In late May, they made landfall in present day Maine and continued to sail south in search of an appropriate place to disembark. Gabriel Archer and John Brereton, “both gentlemen on the voyage,” kept detailed accounts of their experiences. Reaching a peninsula surrounded by waters teeming with fish, Gosnold named the place Cape Cod. Coming upon a fertile island with an abundance of grapes, he named it Martha’s Vineyard after his young daughter, while he named Elizabeth Island after his queen, Elizabeth I.
The party finally landed, built a small fort, and encountered a small group of Native Americans. The first meeting was cordial, “the people exceedingly courteous, gentle of disposition…strong, healthful and very witty.” Unfortunately, several days later Gosnold casually took an Indian canoe, creating distrust between the two groups. Lacking sufficient provisions for a long stay, they abandoned the settlement after about a month, returning to England with a valuable cargo of cedar and sassafras, creating a dispute with Raleigh.
Gosnold spent the next five years preparing for a return voyage, soliciting patrons and potential colonists; gathering and storing provisions; raising funds through subscriptions and the Virginia Company of London; and obtaining a charter from King James I, who had succeeded Elizabeth in 1603. Among Gosnold’s recruits was John Smith, a charismatic mercenary, soldier of fortune, and adventurist.
As the major financial backer of the expedition, the Virginia Company selected a seasoned privateer and ship captain as admiral, placing Gosnold second in command. With a hundred male settlers and fifty-five crewmen, they set sail from London in December 1606 in the Susan Constant, the Godspeed, and Discovery, arriving in the lower regions of Chesapeake Bay at the end of April 1607. Selecting a site for a settlement, the company opened sealed instructions which named a seven-member Royal Council. Gosnold’s name was first on the list. Later John Smith would give credit where it belonged: “Captain Bartholomew Gosnold, the first mover of this plantation, having many years solicited many of his friends at last prevailed…who depended a year on his projects.” Tragically, Gosnold died of fever in late August but his dream was fulfilled - the Colony of Jamestown. He was thirty-six years old.
John Brereton’s account of the 1602 voyage was published shortly after returning to England. Shakespeare may well have read the book for he and Gosnold shared many friends and the same benefactor, the Earl of Southampton. The Earl had financed
Gosnold’s voyage and was a major financial supporter of Shakespeare. Brereton’s book was one of the earliest describing the New England coast, including descriptions of flora and fauna before unknown to the British but strikingly similar to those in Shakespeare’s island in The Tempest. His “Caliban,” the only inhabitant of the island is depicted as a “savage and deformed slave,” probably representing mysterious peoples of the New World, much like those described by Brereton. Interestingly, the first Native American was not brought back to England until after Shakespeare had written The Tempest.
Whatever the relationship between Gosnold and The Tempest, the play is a source of enjoyment and relaxation for George Washington.