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Five months had passed and Patrick welcomed the fall air. Savannah was very beautiful in the fall and was a stark contrast to the filthy dark, gloomy city of London. After living so long, wasting away in a disgusting dungeon, he now took time to appreciate the simple blessings in life. He sat for hours staring at sea birds he had never before seen. His favorite was a black bird that looked like a large gull. The bird would skim across the ocean with its bottom orange bill slicing into the water. When the bird’s lower bill hit a fish near the surface, it would snap it up and fly off, never losing its balance. He also grew to respect the strange pelicans and their fantastically awkward hunting skills. Most of the harvests were now coming in and the blacksmith’s apprentice could see all the rice fields surrounding the town being prepared for winter. It was a bountiful harvest this year and he found himself falling in love with Mari Anna’s corn breads.
The scars on his face were softening over the months. He worked long hours but had grown quickly skilled in making nails, hinges, locks and various tools. He was proud of his Scottish dirk that Archibald had showed him how to make. The blade was well balanced and true but a bit longer than a traditional Scottish knife. He had even grown bold enough to wear it as he traveled around Savannah. The British troops gave him a curious eye but left him to his own devices.
Patrick had quickly grown close to the Freeman family. He was especially enthralled with Heather and found himself unable to focus on any thought in her presence. Heather often caught him staring at her while she was serving him dinner. He was horribly embarrassed but she just smiled. She seemed to enjoy his discomfort. Archibald was like his father he so badly missed. He convinced his employer to help him send a letter back to London to his family, explaining to them that he was alive and well in the colonies. Both men knew it had little hope of ever finding its mark but it was written and sent despite the chances of making it home.
Tensions with the British troops had eased some since Commander Kingsley and Sergeant Luthor had been deployed to fight skirmishes with the Spanish down south, at least until the searches started. Patrick had still never seen the infamous James Oglethorpe in town but the young blacksmith heard the he was infuriated because somebody dared to steal his imported winder they used to spin the silk cocoons raised in his beloved Trustees’ Garden. All his silk cocoons would now just go to waste like most of the rest of the garden. He ordered a town search and his troops tossed all the colonists' homes. Strange men rifled through wives' unmentionables supposedly searching for something the size of a small cannon. This created a hornet’s nest of animosity from the common folk toward the military.
He also saw Isaac occasionally, in the morning, buying a special kind of bread from Mari Anna. Mari Anna informed Patrick that a Jewish dictate forbade him from eating bread with yeast in it. She did not understand what the Jewish god had against yeast, but she baked flat bread and was happy for the extra money to be made for the unusual bread.
Patrick loved the new work clothes that Prudence had delivered to him. He had never had anything custom made for him. He had been washing them every three days because of the excessive sweating, but Savannah’s heat was breaking a little and he only had to wash his clothes every ten days now. The Freemans made jest of his excessive washing, God forbid, two times a week! The indenture took the jokes in stride though. He had spent so many years living in the putrid squalor of the debtors’ prison that he took any chance he had to clean himself. Patrick washed himself every Sunday, while most of the town was at church. Oddly, the Freemans never attended the services held in Johnson Square. One day he thought he might ask why but he loved the alone time he was given and frankly did not care.
Patrick was quickly realizing that Savannah was like a huge melting pot. It was made of British, Irish, Scottish, African, Redskins, German, Polish, Portuguese, and a collection of stragglers from all over Europe. This made the religious worship an interesting mix. So many beliefs all in one place yet most people were tolerant.
Patrick was also combining the gossip from different criers, as well as the news from all over the colonies. He was told nothing of Savannah back on the Robin and was finally beginning to understand his new environment. He reasoned that many immigrants were promised freedom and the escape from the iron fist of the king. To a degree, they were indeed freer. They were allowed to own land and the tax burden was much less than in England. Some families were already creating wealth quickly, which would have been impossible back overseas. Some things had not changed at all though. Colonists were still subjects of the king and his soldiers could do anything they wanted to the colonists without fear of recourse. Patrick believed that the allure of the power the government offered attracted the worst kind of people. Most all of the soldiers were men following power-hungry politicians without question. The soldiers who disobeyed found themselves victim to mortal consequences. As a result, the worst, of the worst people rose to positions of power. The further up the ranks, the more corrupt and touched in the mind with power they became. Horrible atrocities would befall those that did not accept this situation. Patrick also discovered that people took dangerous risks anyway. Behind closed doors, words of freedom and personal sovereignty were spoken with whispers. He even stumbled upon an entire underground network of people and businesses that worked around Oglethorpe’s rule. A disgruntled disobedience was on the wind.
One early morning of October 1739, Patrick woke to the sound of a ruckus. Heather was pounding on the shed door shouting, “Wake up!” She informed Patrick that Oglethorpe had commanded that the entire town attend his savage consort’s funeral service that day. "If you had not heard yet, Tomochichi's savages are doing some heathen ceremony in memory of him, for Oglethorpe today." Heather mocked, "Be ready to join the family as we stop work and march ourselves down to Percival Square to console poor Oglethorpe’s feelings.”
The family adorned their most formal outfits and started the walk to Percival square. While walking, Archibald stated to Marian, “We should go anyway. I was fond of Tomochichi. I resent being ordered around like a mule." He kicked at the dirt in the road. "I think it soon be time to really think about joining our kin in Darien.”
Marian shushed him and warned, "Let’s not discuss this now with so many 'red' ears around.”
The family turned a corner to view a huge crowd surrounding the square. The entire Yamacraw tribe attended in full dress. Even though Tomochichi had a falling out with the Creek tribe, many Creek still attended out of respect. Putting their differences aside, the Creek and Yamacraw met each other with traditional strong handshakes. The body of Tomochichi had been honored with a full military parade earlier and now sat in the center of Percival square on a horse drawn cart. Patrick was taken aback at seeing so many savages in one place. They were in full ceremonial dress. Huge headdresses, bright colors, fur, and feathers were everywhere. Many warriors were there. They had their hair cropped with a long central lock representing the traditional style of the Creek Indian. The warriors were also covered with ritual tattoos and pierced earlobes. He sensed the gravity of the event and, as far as he knew, no white man had ever witnessed the secret Creek Indian burial ceremonies.
Heather leaned over and whispered to Patrick, “The rumor circling today is this is only the internment ceremony. The Yamacraw already did a vast array of private rituals no white man has ever see. As part of Tomochichi’s last request, he asked to be buried in Savannah to foster peace between our nations. I think he just loved all the white man’s praise and attention. It made him a big fish to his people.”
Four loud blasts sounded from a cow horn to summon the Yamacraw to the center of the Square. Five elders were holding large feathered ceremonial staffs that had broom ends. They then used the broom/staffs to sweep the crowd of groups. Patrick found it very odd how the tribe elders directed people to sit by pointing their lips.
The indenture th
en saw the esteemed Oglethorpe for the first time when the elders allowed the white leader to speak before they would begin with their scared rituals. He wore a formal military uniform with a new white wig. He solemnly walked to the center of the Yamacraw crowd and spoke sincerely to them. Oglethorpe kneeled in front of Tomochichi’s wife, Senauki, and his nephew, Toonahowi, and spoke respectfully. Oglethorpe’s friend, Mary Musgrove, translated English to the Yamacraw.
Mary Musgrove was the widow of a prominent South Carolina Indian trader who traveled with and was befriended by Tomochichi. She was born of mixed blood to a Tuckabachhee lower Creek Indian woman and Edward Griffin. She was married off to John Musgrove to foster peace between the Creek and the English. John Musgrove met the Coweta headman, Brim, a native that the English had earlier designated as “emperor.” The tribes called him this so that, in the eyes of the English at least, Brims could speak for the other chiefs or headmen. Mary was held in a position of prominence with her people and, even though the trustees of Savannah did not like her, Oglethorpe adored and trusted her. She was now remarried to her indenture, an act that was considered scandalous by Savannah upper-class socialites. She translated Oglethorpe’s words to the stoic Yamacraw crowd.
“Tomochichi was a great chief. The counsel in the sky will welcome him with the pipe of peace. The king and the people of Savannah owe him a great debt for all the help he gave us settling this town. Let us not forget his greatness and wisdom that helped us negotiate a treaty with the lower Creek. He was a great warrior and a noble savage.”
Patrick was surprised when he eyed Commander Byron Kingsley in the crowd. He grew nervous knowing that muckraker was back in town. The commander rolled his eyes in disgust and disrespect while listening to Oglethorpe’s heart filled speech.
The white leader continued, “I got to know him and his family well when we traveled to England together in the Lord’s year of thirty four. He was the toast of England and his majesty the king considers his death a great loss.