How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 148: Camping (1)

On Roanoke Island, dozens of blacksmiths and various craftsmen who had come from England to support their livelihood were isolated.

The reason for their isolation was obviously because of me. It would be a disaster if they happened to overhear my voice somewhere.

They only knew about the Virginia community as the "Indian Emperor's" territory.

They knew about the Porter and tractors that occasionally passed by, but they just thought of them as "strange native technology."

Of course, we do our best to prevent them from feeling confined. We periodically send them back to England and pacify them by giving them various luxury goods as gifts.

Thus, on land about 10 times the size of Odaiba, only a few dozen people live and maintain the blacksmith workshop. Most of the natives who originally lived there had long since moved to Chesapeake Bay.

And.

"I am the 'Baron of Roanoke,' after all."

Clank. Clank.

Bang! Boom!

"It seemed strange to me that I didn't have a mansion to stay in on my estate. No matter what, if I'm the Baron of Roanoke and this is my territory, aren't the craftsmen on the other side of the island my subjects? Then I should at least pretend to visit my subjects occasionally and take care of them somehow, but I hadn't thought of that."

Well... that's true.

Since England took control of Roanoke Island before Virginia did, strictly speaking, it's English territory.

Thanks to Queen Elizabeth conveniently misunderstanding, "Ah! There was an original native empire there!" this place became one where the ownership between our community and England was intricately intertwined.

Raleigh... is a vassal serving two lords according to the treaty, me and Elizabeth.

Anyway, whether this land belongs to England or Virginia, it's definitely Raleigh's land.

That's right. If Raleigh wants to act as a lord here, he should have at least one mansion.

After preventing craftsmen from England from coming to this area, we landed on the opposite side from where the blacksmith workshop is located. The "Baron of Roanoke's" mansion was set to be built here.

The workforce brought from Chesapeake Bay is moving around, transporting materials.

Seeing English and African workers piling up bricks, marble, and timber, an inexplicable sense of fulfillment wells up.

Although called a mansion, its scale is not that large. This was because Raleigh firmly insisted that he couldn't build something more magnificent than "the dwelling place of the angel."

Idiot... No matter how big your mansion is, your house doesn't have air conditioning, refrigerator, or robot vacuum cleaner...!

Anyway, I felt somewhat sorry, so I provided various premium timbers and came for this inspection...

"Ahem."

"What's the matter?"

"Let's go somewhere where there are no people."

I had something to ask.

Raleigh gently turned his steps into the bushes, and Harriot and others who were standing beside him also tactfully vacated the area. Once there were no people within a 10-meter radius, I said:

"...What's the real reason?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about suddenly building a mansion. Usually, when a person prepares a new dwelling in a new place, it's one of two things."

"...May I ask what those two things are?"

"One is because of greed. Greed for new land, new status, and new wealth."

"Haha... That doesn't apply to me."

I suppose not.

Though Raleigh is a person full of ambition, that would be satisfied in England and Virginia. It's not something that would be achieved by building a mansion on this remote island.

What could he gain by building a new mansion on an island with a population of only a few dozen?

"Then what's the other case?"

"The other is..."

I carefully chose my words, not to offend Raleigh.

"Usually, people whose original dwelling has become unstable do this."

"..."

"Has something happened in England?"

"...Indeed, you notice."

Raleigh nodded and frankly admitted.

"The political situation in England is somewhat unstable."

"Why? The Queen is wealthier than ever, and the war is progressing fairly well."

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"It's a separate issue. No, from a certain perspective, it's a much more serious issue."

"Hmm?"

Raleigh speaks slowly, almost in a whisper.

"It's the succession issue."

"Ah."

I roughly understand.

"Her Majesty... refuses to designate a successor."

Elizabeth is 67 now. Considering she dies two years later in the original history, she could literally die at any time.

Yet... the kingdom has no successor?

In fact, it's absurd.

Originally, Elizabeth didn't designate a successor until just before her death. It's presumed she didn't want to share power with a successor.

So her close advisor Robert Cecil secretly corresponded with James VI of Scotland and had him ascend the throne after the Queen's death.

Hmm... So that's why the political climate is unstable.

Enough for Raleigh to consider firmly establishing a nest on this Roanoke Island.

"..."

"Well, it's just a precaution for a possible scenario. Her Majesty the Queen is healthy, and the kingdom is flourishing, so nothing will happen. ...Probably."

"Yes, probably so."

Anyway, it was an issue worth remembering, so I nodded and engraved the issue of Elizabeth's succession in my mind.

"Um..."

"Yes, Walter. What is it?"

"Please don't misunderstand. I'm just asking out of pure curiosity."

But Raleigh strangely hesitates as he broaches the subject to me.

After I nodded, Raleigh asked me:

"H-how did you end up coming to Roanoke Island?"

"Pardon?"

"Yes."

"...Ah, you don't know?"

As I turned my head, I saw the other apostles setting up tents in the distance, waiting. As the confused Raleigh tilted his head, I patted his shoulder and said:

"This is what's called 'camping.'"

==

Camping... I was really into camping when I was making good money.

I bought equipment from famous brands like "Nor-X-sk," "Hel-X-nox," "Snow-X-k," etc. (why did I do that?) and invited friends to grill A5 Wagyu beef (seriously, why did I do that?).

...If I had known I would go completely bankrupt later, I wouldn't have done such things.

Anyway, in that sense, camping was a symbol of the moment when things were going best in my life.

I had countless times resolved that once I had some leisure, I would drag out my dusty equipment and stare at a campfire at a nearby campsite.

Of course, that "once" never came.

...Ah! Mom! Dad!

Why did you saddle me with a failing business, really!