Sacred Hunger - Barry Unsworth [237]
‘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.’
FORTY-FIVE
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 and with a 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 – the 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.
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