No rum or brandy was put out, as Creeks generally had a fatal weakness for spirits; but there was wine and root-beer.
Tallechea and Captain Aleck ate in silence, cutting their meat with the small knives they carried at their belts, using their fingers to carry it to their mouths, eating round the bones very delicately and neatly. Erasmus was surprised at their self-containment and the ease and grace of their movements; the unaccustomed surroundings and the alien manners of their hosts seemed to occasion them no physical constraint. Even their silence struck Erasmus as due more to their custom than to any shyness or lack of ease. Only the eyes were savage; these held a constant gleaming light, not changed by what they rested on.
When they had finished eating, both remarked through the hatchet-faced Mr Forrest on the excellence of the meal, nodding heavily for emphasis and uttering deep exclamations. Captain Aleck complimented the Governor on the size and splendour of his house and said that a man who lived in such a stronghold need have no fear of enemies. Following upon this, Tallechea made a brief speech. They knew him as Tama, Flame of Tongue. He hoped there would always be straight paths between their nations. The English had kindled their fire on the sea coast, and it was the will of the Giver of Breath that they and the red men should live in amity, so that their children might grow up to be men.
In reply, the Governor welcomed them to his table and expressed the hope that there would be further occasions of a similar kind, as Tallechea and Captain Aleck were his red brothers and particularly dear to him, but that the paths could not run straight so long as the red people would not behave generously towards their white brothers in the matter of the land. What was being asked was something they could easily spare. As they knew, the ships from Georgia had arrived and now lay at anchor. They contained blankets and ammunition and rum and many things his red brothers desired. But if they gave no land they could expect no presents. The Great King would ask him what he had got for his presents. And how would he answer?
He hoped that Tallechea and Captain Aleck, as dear friends and intended Large-Medal Chiefs, would speak to their people and prevent them from taking the same un-constructive attitudes as they had today.
The two Indians listened impassively. But it seemed to Erasmus that the quality of their stillness had deepened with the mention of the ships. After a long, reflective pause, Captain Aleck asked for the Governor’s words about medal chiefs to be more fully explained to them, as they had not heard of this matter before. Nor had Erasmus, but he realized at once that this must be what the Superintendent had been so archly mysterious about earlier.
Watson began to speak now with the utmost solemnity. The Great White King had provided special medals to be bestowed upon those of his red children that showed friendship for their English brothers. These medals showed the Great King’s face and they were of bronze.
Some were as big as a man’s palm and they were intended for the most important men, who would be known as Large-Medal Chiefs. Some were smaller, about the size of a dollar. These medals, both large and small, were to be hung round the necks of those who had shown their love for the Great King. This would be done in a special ceremony before all the headmen of the nation.
The Creeks listened to this intently but without further comment. After further assurances of friendship they took a dignified leave. Before Mr Forrest left he was instructed by the Governor, on whom he knew his trade in liquor would in future depend, to move among the Creeks and whenever he heard differences of policy among them to point out the value of English friendship and the line they should take next day at the conference.
“We must leave no stone unturned,”
Campbell said, on parting that night. “An interpreter moves in both worlds. He has an aura about him, he inspires trust.” He looked at Erasmus with his small, canny smile, the twinkle in his eyes as relentless as ever. “These are cunning fellows we are dealing with, Mr Kemp, and we must try to match them, however much it goes against the grain.”
45.
It was deemed inadvisable, in Watson’s view, for Erasmus to attend the next day’s meeting. In the present delicate stage of negotiations his presence there might have seemed like an attempt at conciliation and as such taken as a mark of weakness. So he had to wait until the evening before learning the result of the Governor and Superintendent’s combined diplomacy.
He saw at once that things had gone well. Both men showed their satisfaction in ways peculiarly characteristic, Campbell with an air of preternatural shrewdness, Watson more orotund of phrase than ever andwitha tendency to rub his long-fingered hands together. There had been a dramatic reversal of attitude on the part of their two dinner guests, both of whom had spoken in favour of granting all the land east of the river and even some on the west side; and this, coming from such respected and influential figures, had found general support among the chiefs.
“They must have talked half the night, sir, after leaving us,” Watson said. “Character will show, in the end. They have no firmness of purpose, none at all. I have seen it before, they try to impose upon us, they see it is of no avail and that we are people that cannot be intimidated. Then comes the fear of losing what they had thought we would be coerced to give. We seize the moment to make some special offer. Result?”’ He made fluttering gestures with his hands. “Capitulation, sir,” he said, “absolute and total.” His large, yellowish teeth were exposed in a smile comthe first Erasmus could remember seeing on his face. “I have transported those medals all over the southern states of America,” he said. ‘And they weigh, sir, they are deuced heavy.”
“We will present the Treaty tomorrow and there is reason now to think they will sign it,” Campbell said.
“And a good piece of business it will be for England, and King George, God bless him, and I hope our services will be recognized.”
On the following day, at Fort Picolata, thirty of the principal men of the Lower Creek nation put their marks against their names, and the whole of the land from the coast to the river and southward to its source was made available for settlement. Large medals were then bestowed upon Tallechea, Captain Aleck and another chief named Estime, who had supported the English cause; while Wioffke, Latchige and Chayhage were all made Small-Medal Chiefs. This was done in a solemn ceremony, the Superintendent presenting the chiefs to the Governor, who hung the medals about their necks, while the guns of the fort sounded out, repeated by those on board the East Florida Schooner.
That evening, at the Residence, there was a celebratory dinner to which all the chiefs were invited.
The Governor, resplendent in scarlet and gold, made a speech in which he declared that Florida would be held by the Crown in perpetuity and that he looked forward to a long and fruitful cooperation between the red men and their white brothers.
Tallechea, his large medal shining on his chest, replied for the assembled chiefs. He was Tama, Flame of Tongue, and he was glad to hear the words of the Governor. He hoped that blankets would soon be given to the people as it was getting cold and one blanket was not enough. These remarks were greeted by the assembled chiefs with deep, guttural exclamations of agreement.
The Superintendent then congratulated the Medal Chiefs, both large and small, and said that all the people of the Creeks, whether or not they had been honoured with medals, had acquired that day a friend and father in the Great White King.
In point of fact the Great White King was just then embarking on policies destined to lose him the whole of North America within two decades and bring about the total destruction of the Creek nation. He had begun already to talk rather rapidly and incoherently at times and his urine had started to show a dark red colour mystifying to his physicians.
At around midnight the chiefs left in a body, many by this time unsteady on their feet and some needing to be helped on to their horses by the young braves who had been waiting in the compound of the Residence. Watson, who had a weak stomach and not much liking for festivities in any case, had retired at
an early stage and the garrison officers now returned to their quarters, Redwood flushed and staring with what he had drunk but still sufficiently in command of himself. In leaving he expressed to Campbell his belief that the Medal Chiefs would find their trophies useful some day in stopping the bullets of their English brothers, a remark the Governor found in questionable taste.
His departure left Erasmus and Campbell alone together. Neither of them was yet inclined to retire for the night. Neither had drunk more than moderately, sharing a certain kind of abstemiousness and a dislike for any loss of control. Both men, in their different ways, were in happy mood, though Erasmus was aware that matters had still to be settled with regard to his expedition.
“This is a great occasion, Kemp,”
Campbell said. “Let us have a drop more brandy.
We can go into my study, it is more comfortable there.”
This was the room where the conduct of the negotiations had been plotted with Watson, and the pages of Campbell’s uncompleted report still covered the desk. “A historic occasion,” the Governor said, when they were settled in armchairs. “We have gained all we asked and more. His Majesty’s Province of East Florida now includes all the sea coast as far as the tide flows and all the country eastward of the river from its source to its entrance to the sea. I must say that Watson managed that matter of the medals consummately well. He and I have had our differences but I have to admit that his sense of timing was impeccable.”
“He knows his business, so much is certain,”
Erasmus said.
“He has had the happy thought, which he explained to me tonight before retiring, of holding back some of the goods promised to the Indians, keeping them in storage for a few months.”
“Where would be the virtue in that?”’
“At present they know what we give them is in the nature of a reward. If, a little later, they see us give presents and ask for nothing in return, it will bind them closer to us.”
“If Watson ever needs a post in the City of London he can have one. He would be just the man to deal with our shareholders.”
The Governor sipped at his brandy. “The best of it is that we have been able to keep within the limits set by the Board of Trade,” he said. He glanced quickly at Erasmus and a look of simple happiness appeared on his small, cautious face, as if he had reverted suddenly to some triumph of boyhood. He said, “There were four hundred pounds allotted for the expenses of the conference, excluding the cost of provisions, and we have kept it to three hundred and eighty pounds, sixteen shillings and eight pence. I shall be making out the invoices first thing tomorrow. I trust their Lordships at the Board of Trade will take note of it.”
Watching Campbell’s face, listening to his self-congratulatory tones, Erasmus knew that the time had come to extract a definite promise. The fire of his purpose had been burning all this while, but low; the Governor’s simple pleasure at having cash in hand was fresh kindling, highly combustible—Erasmus felt the flames curl around it and leap. In throwing off hints about land deals he had been misjudging Campbell: the governor was not a man of vision like himself, he was too cautious, too parsimonious. He would be interested more in the immediate prospect…
“I am delighted at your success,” he said, ‘and this infant Colony has all my good wishes.
With you at the helm, Colonel Campbell, she is set fair. Now that things are satisfactorily concluded here, I shall be able to leave shortly for the south of the peninsula. In fact I shall be ready to go as soon as the troops and guns are made available to me.”
He saw an immediate shadow fall over Campbell’s face. The Governor set down his glass carefully and Erasmus noticed for the first time that the backs of his small, strong hands were covered with wiry-looking reddish hairs. “That needs some studying,” Campbell said. “There are the redskins still to be reckoned with.”
“They will go their separate ways, surely, when the presents have been given out. Think, sir, of the contribution you will be making to the coffers of the new Colony, and just at this time when money is so sorely needed.”
“You have lost me now.” A look of alertness had come to Campbell’s face. “What contribution do you speak of?”’
“Sir, what would happen if I could not rely on you for the soldiers? I would have to recruit and arm irregulars from Georgia, half the profits would go to a parcel of mercenary rogues who have no ounce or scruple of patriotism among them.”
“Profits? I am slow tonight,” Campbell said. “Perhaps it is the brandy.”
“No, sir. As a military man and a servant of the Crown you naturally do not take a view of private advantage. You have not fully considered the implications of this business. If my calculation is right—and my enquiries here have yielded some confirmation—there might be upwards of a hundred down there, in this upstart colony within your own, including women and children. They will have been breeding. The great majority will be black or mulatto. At Charles Town an adult slave in good condition, it makes no difference whether black or mulatto, will fetch fifty pounds for a man and thirty-eight for a woman at current prices. Children over the age of ten fetch good prices in proportion. The cost of transporting the cargo to South Carolina will not be great. It takes no great head for figures to see that there is a lot of money for the man who gets them to market. Now if the capture were made by troops acting on your orders, you could make claim to it— for the royal coffers, of course.”
“Of course.”
“And if any of the men are lost in the action, it will be viewed as acceptable in such a cause.”
Erasmus was silent for a short while, then he said, in a thoughtful, reflective tone, “I should say there is something like two and a half thousand guineas in it, clear profit.” He met now the full regard of the Governor’s small, keen eyes, with their misleading twinkle still in evidence.
‘Do I understand you to say that you do not want the money?”’ Campbell said, in the softer voice he used for moments of emotion.
“I did not say that. The negroes were purchased by my father and I will recover some of his investment. I shall expect to reimburse myself for the expense I have been put to. And I shall expect a half share in the proceeds of the sale.
I am aware that these are liberal terms, but my interest is not entirely financial. The people of that ship are murderers and thieves, the black men and women and all their offspring are stolen property. I want the former brought to justice and the latter recovered and sold. I have personal reasons—their nature I won’t discuss, but they are compelling. The years have changed nothing, how could they?”’
His tone had quickened in speaking. He experienced now a faint shuddering in his lower jaw and realized that he had set his teeth too close in the stress of his feeling. “I have money enough,” he continued more calmly. ‘I would be content to sign over to you one half of my rights in the cargo, subject to a deduction for expenses, say three hundred and fifty pounds, in exchange for your official countenance and your help in the matter of the men and guns.
We can see to the papers, it is a simple enough matter.”
Campbell, nodded and glanced aside, compressing his mouth to a thin line. He reflected for some moments then said, “I respect your motives, sir, they show you to be a man of both sense and feeling. But you must realize my position here. There may be loss of life among the troops, if these people make resistance. There may even be damage to the cannon, a serious matter, for which I would be held accountable.
Under the circumstances, will you not reconsider? I would think it more reasonable if you were to deduct expenses after the sale, from your half-share, rather than before.”
‘Sir,” Erasmus said, “any loss or damage would be favourably viewed, since it would have occurred in the course of smoking out a nest of vipers in the heart of His Majesty’s Province. That is the kind of energetic action that brings a man to the notice of his superiors. They will think better of you for it than for saving them a
few pounds and shillings on the conference expenses. However, I don’t wish to appear unreasonable. As I say, my interest is not only financial. I will lower my figure for expenses by a hundred pounds, but it must still be deductible before the sale of the negroes. Come now, that is the best offer I can make you.”
Campbell’s face still showed some reserve. With a sense of timing rivalling that of the masterly Watson, Erasmus chose this moment to say, with studied nonchalance, “It would be a private matter between us, of course, I would not ask for any accounting. I would take my half in cash if possible, or in bills of credit, and the other half would be made over to you, together with all receipts and records of the sale. I am content to leave the matter in your hands for the better governance of this new Colony of Florida.”
“Sir,” Campbell said, “here is my hand on it. Give me three days. The Creeks will be drunk for that time on the rum we shall give them and our full force will be needed in case of disturbance. After that they will disperse. Three days, and the men and the guns will be placed at your disposal. You have my word.”
They drank to this, and shook hands again, before parting for the night. Alone in his room, Erasmus lay hot and sleepless, excited by thoughts of lawful profit and just retribution. His plans had knitted together most wonderfully. Somewhere to the south of him Matthew Paris was lying at this moment, asleep or awake, with no knowledge of the nemesis that was drawing near. He had no doubt now that his cousin was there, was alive, was waiting, he too, though unconsciously, for this last act to be played out between them. The nightmare fears that Paris might be dead or somehow beyond his reach had gone now: Paris was necessary to the completeness of things, to the workings of justice, and so he must be there. It was a faith almost childlike, and all the faces that came now to visit him in the darkness confirmed it in one way or another, his father’s faces living and dead, the actor in the shipyard sniffing at the fatal timbers, the flushed and handsome dominator of conversation, the staring creature in the candle-light.