How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony

Pope Paul V slowly opened the seal on a letter from an ambitious man and read its contents line by line.

As he approached seventy years of age, he struggled to read the tiny script mixed with crude ciphers. Only after a considerable time...

'Among the hateful bloodlines of the House of Stuart, there are those who are Catholic, or sympathetic to Catholicism. The Lord has not yet abandoned this land...'

'If we carefully select and place someone among them who has not forgotten the Lord's teachings, it will not be long before we rebuild the Holy Church in this cursed land. Also...'

'I trust that Your Holiness will keep this in mind and make an excellent decision as the father of the Church (Papa). Thereby...'

'...With that, I, Guido (the Italian form of the name Guy), a faithful servant of the Lord, send this letter.'

The Pope could grasp the general content of the letter.

This letter, transmitted through Spain back to Rome, clearly contained important information.

A plot against James I, King of England and Scotland.

"..."

Paul V felt uneasy just holding this letter.

The very fact that this letter had reached his hands essentially proved that the political propaganda circulating within Britain was partially true.

That the Pope was plotting rebellion by using Catholics within Britain. That Catholics were traitors communicating with Spain. That Catholicism...

Was trying to undermine England and Scotland from behind.

Of course, such a thing was impossible.

This was due to the bloody purges and march of apostasy that continued throughout Elizabeth's long reign. Perhaps 30 or 40 years ago it might have been different, but now the devil's teachings had already taken root everywhere.

The queen had secured public support through successive victories in battle and various political achievements, eliminating even the slightest possibility for Catholicism to revive. The popes had to swallow their resentment at this fact.

So such a thing was impossible.

More precisely.

It 'had been' impossible.

'Now it might be possible.'

Thinking this, Paul V threw the letter into the furnace.

"Treat the faithful who brought this generously. And bring him before me shortly after. I wish to bestow glory upon him."

"But, Your Holiness, should we not send a reply to that letter..."

"I will not send one for now."

One must be cautious.

It was unclear how many Catholics remained in England, whether enough remained to exert influence at all.

In such a situation, without knowing the strength of the faction led by this Guy Fawkes, if they rashly lent support and failed, the aftermath would be devastating.

Certainly, according to the peace treaty with Spain, England had agreed to stop persecuting Catholics, but what if the Pope himself was implicated in treason?

It was obvious that even the nominal end to persecution would become completely meaningless.

The Pope quietly summoned Guy Fawkes's subordinate and offered all manner of lavish and sweet words of praise. He only uttered words without any substantial commitment.

Rome would support Guy Fawkes and the Catholics in Britain.

But only after they achieved some visible results.

Like changing the king.

...Well.

That wasn't the most urgent matter anyway.

First, he had to consider other issues.

"Your Holiness, contact with the Japanese envoy visiting Nueva España has been lost!"

"What is..."

"It seems they may have been swept away by storms common in that area. We must somehow track them..."

Issues like this, for example.

Paul V suppressed a sigh and nodded.

The regret was great.

Was it a mistake to keep him longer than planned, by a year or two, to enhance the Church's authority?

Was he overreacting to the turmoil in England and the offensive from Protestants?

If only he hadn't kept that envoy at the papal court for so long, such an unfortunate situation wouldn't have occurred.

Why did that important ship have to suffer such unfortunate shipwreck?

Wasn't this an opportunity to establish communication with tens of thousands of faithful in Japan and take a more aggressive stance on Asian missions? How could...

"Sigh..."

Moreover, recent news from the East was also gloomy. There was news that an edict expelling missionaries and prohibiting Catholicism had been issued in Japan.

Mortals dare not know how the Lord's holy history will unfold.

Perhaps Japan is still too early to enter the Lord's embrace.

Paul V could only offer prayers.

==

In the 17th century, when Europeans were expanding toward the oceans and building true world history in the genuine sense.

Europeans often thought they could illuminate all the unknown parts of the world and conquer all seas and lands.

"F-furl the sails! Quickly!"

But the world was still vast, and the realm that humans could govern was only a tiny fraction.

From the ocean's perspective, even a fairly sizeable ocean-going vessel was like a tiny grain of sand placed before a child. Something that would fly away lightly if blown upon.

And when the sea briefly exhaled its rough breath as a storm.

"Lord, L-Lord! Please protect us! Please! Please just save..."

"Saints! If I return, I'll donate all my fortune to the church! Please let me return alive!"

The ship instantly lost its way and scattered like ants blown by the wind.

The vessel that was supposed to head to Hispaniola Island had now completely lost its way.

They clung to the mast and rigging that bent like a bow about to break, and tied themselves down, shaking all over, to avoid being blown away by the wind.

They bailed out the water coming into the ship while staggering, and tried somehow to maintain visibility despite the whitish spray.

Of course, it was in vain.

With a cracking sound, the mast finally broke, and the sailors sensed death. They wept amid the fiercely howling storm while offering prayers that would likely be their last.

By now, even the sun beyond the clouds had sunk below the horizon, making it a dark night. They lurched about in darkness where neither moon nor stars were properly visible.

And.

THUD!

In the impact felt throughout their bodies, most of the sailors and passengers could not withstand it and collapsed.

They didn't even know where they were.

After a long while, when they regained consciousness, the ship was lodged on a sandy beach.

"W-we're alive! We're alive!"

"Thank you, Lord!"

As dawn broke, they realized they had survived from the jaws of death and wept with joy.

Still staggering as if not believing it, missionary Luis Sotelo spoke to a man who had been holed up in the cabin.

"Mr. Hasekura, we've survived! Good heavens, it's land!"

The man, also looking dumbfounded, slowly emerged from the cabin and looked around.