by H L Grandin
“What is your name, sir?” the Governor asked in a more amicable tone.
“I am Tyoga Weathersby.”
“I have heard of you, young man,” Nott said. “Quite a legend has grown up around you— something about being raised by Indians and wolves and what not. Hmm.”
Tyoga smiled. “Somethin’ like that.”
“Well. You have a remarkable command of the English language for having been brought up with savages, and I dare say that your services will be of great use to His Majesty.”
“Use?” Tyoga asked.
“Yes,” Nott said. “We shall see, my good man. We shall see.”
Losing patience with the haughty little man, Tyoga said with just a hint of exasperation in his tone. “What do you wish to ask the Chief?”
“I have no question to ask him, my dear fellow,” Nott said. “I have come to tell him that the crown intends to procure his land along the Mattaponi River.”
Being a seasoned negotiator, Tyoga knew better than to react immediately to the governor’s statement. He remained calm and controlled. He would not interpret what the Governor said to Chief Blue Coat. His reaction would have to be more demure.
“Procure?” Tyoga questioned.
“Yes, my good man. Surely, you know the word. Acquire. Seize. Garner. The Crown intends to take the Mattaponi lands.”
Tyoga did not reply. He stared into the governor’s wan, fragile face with a look that at once commanded more information and implored an explanation to justify such a demand.
Nott seemed to intuitively understand that he was negotiating with a man the likes of which he had never encountered before in what he considered to be a savage land. The Governor had not found favor with the King of England by being naïve or petulant. He was skilled at reading people and appreciating intent. But he was at once intrigued—and confused—by this articulate, leather garbed mountain man with the insulating eyes that protected him from intimidation and steeled him against compromise of principal.
Tyoga’s lack of pretense and disinterest in manipulating the facts to persuade or change opinion were based in the fundamental truths revealed to him on Carter’s Rock twenty years ago. The nature of truthis not found in opinion nor is it subject to the interpretation or intrigue of man. It is beyond that which is available to contrivance.
Truth simply is.
The Governor was unable to understand discourse without pretense, but was astute enough to understand that a change in tactic was necessary.
Turning to face Chief Blue Coat, Governor Nott said, “Please convey this message to the Chief, Mr. Weathersby. Tell him that the Crown, er … the great father across the waters, or whatever he understands the King to be, is interested in creating a port—a town, as it were—on the site presently occupied by the Mattaponi.”
Tyoga interpreted Nott’s words for Chief Blue Coat.
Nott continued, “Tell the Chief that the site is well situated for loading boats—big ships—with furs, and trees for lumber, and tobacco and corn and all sorts of goods in demand in England. Tell him that for his land and the goods we take we will give him enough money … shillings … .no, errrr wampum to make him and his people very rich.”
Again, Tyoga told Chief Blue Coat what Governor Nott had said.
Chief Blue Coat responded, “Itchta eh aho chi-chaho.”
Tyoga said to Nott, “Chief Blue Coat has some questions.”
The Chief continued, “Tell me, Chief Nott, why would I want to part with the gifts given to the Mattaponi from our mother earth, for the treasures you promise? What would the Mattaponi buy with this money? Tobacco? Furs? Corn? All of these things we already possess.”
Governor Nott did not reply.
Chief Blue Coat continued, “These things you ask the Mattaponi to sell are not ours to give. They do not belong to us. The fur of the beaver and fox belongs to the beaver and fox. The trees belong to the mountains and plains and forests. Who do you ask if they are for sale? They are not for sale? We will not give them to you because we cannot.”
His doughy face pinking with anger, Governor Nott rose to his feet. “Look here, Chief. His Majesty will have the land upon which your village stands and there is nothing more to be said about it. If you do not vacate the land peacefully, His Majesty’s Royal Guard will take it by force. Many of your men, women, and children will die. And for what? For wild animals that roam the forests in numbers uncountable? Fortrees that grow without end for as far as the eye can see? Chief, if you do not relinquish this land, your people will die for nothing at all.”
Chief Blue Coat rose to his feet and said, “We will not leave our homeland. If we die at Passaunkack, we will not die in vain. We will die to protect what is not ours to give—yet belongs to all of the People. We will die to revere the memory of our ancestors. We will die to save our way of life.” He placed his weathered hand on the head of his tomahawk. “And, we will not die alone.”
With a wave of Governor Nott’s hand, the Royal Guard snapped from their ceremonial columns, reassembled into battlefield rows, and shouldered their arms.
At the same instant, the Mattaponi notched their arrows and pulled their bowstrings taut. Brister rose to his feet with a Cherokee war club clutched in his huge, scarred hand.
Tyoga stepped in between Governor Nott and Chief Blue Coat. Calmly, he said, “Wait. There is another way.”
Governor Nott raised his hand and the soldiers reformed their ranks.
The Mattaponi lowered their bows, but did not quiver their arrows. Brister stood his ground.
Gesturing to their seats, Tyoga said to Governor Nott and Chief Blue Coat. “Please. Sit down. Sit.”
After they were both seated, Tyoga said, “Governor Nott, His Majesty wants to have access to the natural bounty of this new land that he has claimed for himself and his people.” His inquisitive look at Governor Nott indicated that he wanted a brief acknowledgement of his statement.
“That is correct, sir,” the Governor replied.
“Is it not true, sir, that if these riches could be conveyed to His Majesty at an expense less costly than that anticipated if taken down the Mattaponi to the York River and through the Chesapeake to the Atlantic Ocean, His Majesty the King would be greatly pleased?”
“That too is correct, good sir,” the governor again replied.
“Would not the person who handed these great savings to His Majesty be applauded for his efforts and be rewarded with position, power, and treasure beyond his wildest dreams?”
“Pray, to the point, sir.” Governor Nott sat on the edge of his seat.
Tyoga said, “Governor Nott, there is a land to the north where the game runs wild ten fold more abundant than what one may find here in the tidewater and foothills. There are enormous trees so abundant that no man has set eyes on them and soil so rich that no seed planted can refrain from producing unimaginable crops.”
“Where is this place?” Governor Nott demanded. “What good is it to His Majesty if there are not waterways easily employed forconveyance?”
“Wait, Governor Nott. There is much more to be had here than easy access to the Atlantic Ocean.”
“What more could there be, man?” Nott asked.
Tyoga looked to his left and then to his right. He knelt down close in front of the governor’s chair. Again he looked from side to side, and motioned for the governor to lean forward so that he could better hear what he had to say.
“Governor, you have heard of the Ohio and St. Lawrence River Valley?” Tyoga asked.
“Yes, of course, I have. Everyone knows of this land, but I don’t see what—”
“Then, you are aware—Are you not?—that the French are laying claim to vast tracts of land, and enlisting the allegiance of the Cayuga, the Oneida, and the Huron to claim the territory for the King of France?” Tyoga asked.
Governor Nott brought his hand to his chin and nodded.
Tyoga let the information sink in before continuing. “The Iroquois braves w
ill be leaving Kaniataro Wanenneh to go on their winter hunt. Only women and children will be left behind in the village. A battalion of British soldiers could take over the entire region without firing a shot. The French would be displaced. The furs and trees and fertile lands could be claimed for His Majesty, and the St. Lawrence waterway could be secured by British garrisons all the way to the Atlantic. The route will cut a full week off of the Atlantic crossing from the bay and save your king millions of pounds over the years. Think about it, Governor. You could be responsible for presenting to His Majesty everything that he has been hoping to secure from his new lands, and, in the process, stop France’s ambitions to expand its holdings on the continent.”
Tyoga rose to his feet and took a step back toward Chief Blue Coat. “All of this will be yours if you agree to leave the Mattaponi lands in peace.”
Chief Blue Coat and the Mattaponi looked at Tyoga with stoic stares of confidence that whatever it was that he was negotiating would be in their favor. They did not understand the words, but they clearly comprehended the importance of the conversation that had just taken place around the campfire.
After several minutes, Governor Nott rose to his feet. “You make a strong case, young man. I am quite certain that the House of Burgesses will agree to your proposal. They were not greatly enamoured of building a port at Passaunkack in the first place. I will, however, have to discuss this further with His Majesty’s Lords. Tell me, who will lead us to this ‘Kanan—taro’ place? We will need guides and interpreters and provisions—”
“Kaniataro Wanenneh,” Tyoga interrupted. “Guides and interpreters will be provided to you, but only if you agree—here and now—that you will not bother the Mattaponi, nor move to take their lands, until we have spoken again. I leave it to your wiles to assemble the necessary truck for the expedition. I am certain that it can all be arranged.”
“Yes,” the governor responded with a smile. “I believe that it can. It may take several years, but I believe it can.”
With that he turned and strode with confidence toward the carriage. Carry, Tyler, and Spotswood were taking their places in line to follow him, when he abruptly stopped and turned toward Tyoga.
“I will send for you at the Mattaponi village when I am ready to speak with you again. Until that time, no harm will come to your … friends.”
Bowing his head in agreement, Tyoga turned to tell the Mattaponi that for the time being, their lands were safe from the voracious grasp of the King.
Chapter 53
Consequences of the Accord
As the sound of the Governor’s carriage wheels disappeared down Center Street, Tyoga turned back toward the campfire and sat down next to Chief Blue Coat. The Chief had pushed aside the willow stump and was once again seated cross-legged on the softness of the bearskin rug.
The agreement was celebrated by Thunder Bow and the younger braves as a distinct coup. The consensus was that Tyoga had beaten the Governor at his own game. The Braves slapped him and each other on the back while planning the celebration they would have when they returned to Passaunkack.
Tyoga would be proclaimed the savior of their way of life and the deliverer of the Mattaponi people.
Chief Blue Coat and Tyoga were not so sure. After the others had gone to bed, Tyoga and the Chief stayed up until nearly dawn discussing what had occurred.
“My son, what you have done this night will be celebrated by the Mattaponi for many moons,” the chief said. “Your treaty with the white eyes has preserved the Mattaponi way of life, and that is good thing. But no one can tell what the future may hold. What this treaty means for the Mattaponi, and for the Algonquin nation will not be known for many moons.”
“I know, Blue Coat,” Tyoga said. “Even more than that, the consequences of what I have done this day will reach far beyond the land of the Algonquin people. I have purchased the peace for the Mattaponi at the expense of another Indian nation. That it is the Iroquois who will suffer as the result of my plan makes the treachery no less vile. It is true that the Iroquois ran the Shawnee out of their homeland in the Ohio territory. It is also a fact that they instigated the attack on Tessenatee that wiped out an entire Cherokee Village of defenseless women and children. They continue to this day to murder young Algonquin braves who are doing nothing more than hunting game to feed their families. Still, these trespasses do not make what I have done a right thing to do.”
In silence, the two men sat in silence for a long time listening to the quiet of the night. The summer sounds had been stilled by late fall’s chill. The call of a distant owl wrapped the blackness in its plaintive moan.
When the dawn approached, the men stoked the fire to keep them warm and dry.
“Wahaya-Wacon scolds himself too harshly,” Blue Coat said after thinking about Tyoga’s words. “What has occurred in the past does not make what you have done right, my son. But it makes what you have done less wrong. Here is the trouble with the accord you have struck.” He poked at the fire with an elm branch and watched the ashes rise in the updraft and scatter in all directions around the campsite. “That is the problem, my son.”
“What, Blue Coat?” Tyoga asked. “The rising ashes are the problem?”
“Yes, that is exactly it,” he replied. “Today, you have jabbed at the coals with a stick. Unlike the fire, you do not have the luxury of knowing what will rise from the coals. Here, sitting by the fire, we see what rises into the air. We can watch where the embers fall, and, should they ignite a tiny fire in some dried leaves or pine needles, we can run over and crush the flames out with our moccasins.”
“But, Blue Coat,” Tyoga argued, “it will take years before the plan I have proposed this night will come to pass. Other events will surely be more pressing to the King of England than some plot of land in the Iroquois nation. More than likely, this will be forgotten and nothing will come of it.”
“More than likely,” Blue Coat said shaking his head in agreement.
He jabbed at the fire one more time. Again the embers rose into the sky, dancing and whirling on unseen currents of air. Some fell to the ground and died a quiet, silent death.
“Look up, my son,” Blue Coat said to him. “Do you see that some of the embers go dark but continue to rise?”
“Yes,” Tyoga answered.
“They remain hot enough to start a fire still. But they do not let us know where—or when—they will land.”
Tyoga stared back down into the fire, and thought of home.
Chapter 54
A Very Wealthy Man
In the years that followed Tyoga Weathersby’s negotiations with Governor Knott, his legend grew to near god-like status among the tribes of the mid-Atlantic. From the villages of the Seminole tribes in the Carolinas to the Massachusettes Indians in New England, he and Trinity Jane were welcomed as honored guests. Tyoga’s counsel was sought and his legend revered.
They wanted for nothing.
Their smokehouse was always filled with elk, venison, turkey, and quail. Their root cellars overflowed with potatoes, yams, corn, and squash. Native American clothes beautifully fashioned from fox, mink, beaver, and bear filled an entire outbuilding from floor to ceiling. Their cupboards were brimming with ornately decorated pottery and earthenware.
The colonies were equally grateful for Tyoga’s negotiating skills with the tribes of the tidewater that had enabled mutually beneficial trade and commerce between the two nations.
The New England colonies, mid-Atlantic estates, and southern plantations rewarded him with gifts of the finest furnishings, linens, glass, and silverware money could buy. Trinity’s closets overflowed with the latest colonial fashions. Tapistries from the Far East, ivory from Africa, spices from the Orient, silks and porcelain from China and Zanzibar were delivered to Twin Oaks from benefactors unknown.
Twin Oaks had become so large and prosperous that Tyoga divided the acreage into five sectors. An overseer assigned to each sector was given the responsibility of supervising the labor
of the families homesteading on their section of land. Each family was allowed to keep what they produced on their twenty acres, and shared in a percentage of the profits from the crops they tended for the estate on the rest of their sector’s land.
Field hands tended to the crops; shepherds watched over herds of sheep, goats, and cows. Carpenters maintained barns and corrals while constructing new outbuildings for stores and supplies.
In five short years, the Weathersby’s estate had expanded into a small community of fifteen cottages that lined a cobbled lane about two hundred yards from the main house where workers with specific trade skills lived with their families. Carpenters, a blacksmith, a wheelwright, and a tanner occupied some of the modest homes. Other cottages housed the families of those who served in the main house.
The residents of the “Lane”, as the cobbled road was called, were given a large communal plot of land to tend in which they grew the crops necessary to feed the Weathersbys and themselves.
The representative of the British government, Lord Governor Nott, proved to be an equally powerful ally of the young couple over the years since their meeting at Middle Plantation, now called Williamsburg.
Even though nothing had come of the scheme to rid the continent of the French and secure the riches of the New World for the British Crown, Governor Nott never forgot Tyoga’s ingenious plan that had gained such favor with his King. By his invitation, Tyoga and Trinity had become frequent guests of the aristocracy in Willimasburg, Newport News, Yorktown, and Philadelphia.
