Sacred Hunger

by Barry Unsworth

  “I have heard of no such community,” Campbell said. ‘The evidence for it seems slight to me, sir.”

  This brought a welcome anger. Scepticism from such a quarter was only to be expected—it afforded the best excuse for denying help. “I have judged the evidence sufficient,” he said coldly. “I have given you full and adequate reason. I am the one who is injured in this. I have the same right to redress here as I would anywhere else within His Majesty’s dominions. Those negroes who were on the ship originally and any offspring they may have had subsequent to their escape are mine by right of purchase.”

  “Speaking of those same negroes…”

  Redwood had leaned forward and was regarding him with a look of good-humoured curiosity. “Tell me,” he said, “did it never occur to you that the negroes might have risen against the crew and killed them? Such rebellions have been frequent enough on slaveships —more frequent than mutinies. In that case, none of the seamen would have survived and the blacks might have made south for the Keys. I don’t say this is what happened but I am surprised that you do not think of it as the first possibility.”

  The question took Erasmus completely by surprise.

  He returned the major’s gaze for some moments without being able to think of an answer. He did not like the expression of curiosity on Redwood’s face; it was the look a man might have on seeing something odd, but not dangerously so. The silence on the terrace lengthened from moment to moment. It came to Erasmus in his disarray that his cousin’s guilt was not a matter of logical deduction but a terrible necessity…

  “Why, but of course,” he said, “it could not have been the negroes. It would have needed able seamen to bring her in so close, find the mouth of the inlet and then take soundings so she could be towed.” He felt as if he had passed some crucial test.

  Redwood nodded. “Certainly men unused to the sea could not have done it,” he said. “When you say help, I take it you mean troops. You can hardly go down there on your own, waving a warrant.”

  “I have estimated that I shall need a force of fifty men under an officer and two sergeants, and two light cannon,” Erasmus said.

  The Governor uttered a short exclamation, somewhere between a laugh and a snort. Thereafter there was silence, which neither wanted to be the first to break. It was Campbell who yielded. In a voice that this shock had softened almost to the caressive, he said, “I beg you will listen to me, my good sir. I intend to be quite frank with you. I am a plain military man, so you will forgive my bluntness. In the days before us there is no slightest prospect of your obtaining five troops, let alone fifty. I should be compelled to say the same whoever asked me and whatever bad report I might suffer for it back home among people who do not understand the exigencies of the situation. You could not have come at a more awkward time with such a request.

  Perhaps you know something of how things stand with us here?”’

  “I know you are on the eve of talks with the Creek Indians.”

  “Sir, the tribes are camped in the woods on the west side of the Still John River. They will not cross the water yet. They give the care of their horses as excuse. They are cunning and they have had things their own way in East Florida for a long time.”

  “It is a monster of our own making,”

  Redwood said. “The Lower Creeks were allied with us in these late wars. We supplied them with muskets and rum in equal measure. They helped us to victory here by keeping the Dons cooped up in their forts.” He was in the light that fell on to the terrace from the dining-room behind them and Erasmus saw that he was smiling, it seemed rather bitterly. “Now they think we owe them something, the poor benighted heathen,” he said.

  “Aye, man, we know all that, those are the necessities of war,” Campbell said impatiently. “What I am talking about are the problems of peace. The tribes are assembling at the river, not thirty miles off. We have a force of fewer than two hundred men, cavalry included.

  That is all they have thought fit to give me, sir.

  There is no prospect of raising a militia, the province is empty, the resident population have followed the Spanish to Havana. In three days we ride out to Picolata to receive the chiefs. The Indian agent is due to arrive from Georgia some time tomorrow to take part in the talks.”

  “And the talks will be directed…?”’

  “To the establishment of mutually agreeable frontiers between the lands of the red people and those of the white.” This came with a certain suavity, as if Campbell were rehearsing his lines for the conference. He had a way of turning his irritation into an occasion for rhetoric.

  “In short,” Redwood said, “our red brothers have to be persuaded to surrender large areas of their traditional hunting grounds. What makes it just a trifle delicate is that they outnumber us at present by roughly twenty to one.”

  Campbell made an irritated bridling movement of the head. It was clear that he found the major’s sarcasm irksome. The sarcasm itself seemed to Erasmus in some way factitious or assumed and he was once again aware of stresses between these two men.

  “No question of using force,” Campbell said, “ihe future of the colony depends on settlement. A fair and p oper settlement which will lay the basis for lasting peace. We must secure land in quantity enough to bring settlers from England and we must be able to guarantee the frontiers.”

  “I quite understand the situation,” Erasmus said. “I will be content to wait until these discussions have been completed.” He knew this form of words would not be greatly agreeable to Campbell, suggesting as they did that a promise had been made. “I can employ my time very profitably in the interval,” he added quickly, ‘“making a survey of the surrounding countryside. I suppose I may have the use of a horse?”’ This laying of a small question over a larger one was a device he had found useful in the past.

  “Why, as to that, certainly,” Campbell said.

  “And a groom, if you like. But I cannot be so definite -“

  “You will have read by now the letters I brought with me?”’

  “I have read them, yes.”

  ‘allyou will know, then, something of the interests I represent. I don’t go into it at present, it is something we can discuss in the days ahead, but they are very considerable, especially in the matter of capital at disposal for investment -“

  He broke off and drew out the watch from his waistcoat pocket. “Is it really so late?

  Time passes quickly when spent in company so congenial. I will not keep you from your rest any longer, gentlemen.”

  With this he got to his feet. Redwood walked with him as far as the courtyard which gave access to the guest-rooms. The stables were on that side, the major explained; he had a ride of a mile or so to the house where he was quartered; the officers and a good number of the men had been accommodated in private houses, which had caused trouble in the early days.

  “The Spanish generally quit the houses when someone was quartered on them,” Redwood said. “Then they made a claim on us for compensation, a hundred and eighty dollars a week in the case of Cochrane and me. You have met Cochrane, I think —he came to meet you. I told them that British subjects all over America had troops quartered on them when there were no barracks to contain them, without any expense to the Crown, and how could I put the Crown to expense in their favour when it was not allowed to British subjects?”’

  He paused, smiling. The moon was up and a pale wash of light lay over the courtyard, silvering the silent stone fountain in the centre and the sharp leaves of the orange trees lining the sides. “We took a stand on principle,” the major said. “Always a very convenient thing to do. In fact we had no money to pay. But Campbell will tell you about that— shortage of money is one of his favourite subjects.”

  He was silent for a moment, then said in a different tone, “There is something I was intending to tell you … I thought it better not to speak of it before the colonel. It is an old maxim in the army not to seem to know more about anything than y
our superior officer, but he has only been here a few months, you know. The fact is, there is some evidence for the existence of this settlement you spoke about just now.

  What I said about the negroes rising was only my curiosity.” Something of the same slightly quizzical expression was on his face as he looked at Erasmus now. “It struck me as odd, you know, that you hadn’t thought of it. Anyway, in the first weeks I was here, early in 1763, I talked to a half-breed trapper who had brought in some skins to sell and he told me he had seen black men and white fishing together in a creek back behind the shore. He had heard them shouting to drive the fish into the traps and had gone to look. I remember he said they had bamboo harpoons and there were some children watching from the bank. He said he spoke to them. They talked a lingua franca among themselves, a kind of pidgin. It was summer and they were naked save for loincloths and they had oiled themselves with something fishy-smelling. One of them asked him if he could get horsehair, offered him racoon tails for horsehair, a good trade, the trapper thought, but of course he hadn’t got any…”

  “Horsehair,” Erasmus repeated wonderingly. “What would a man in that wilderness want with horsehair?”’

  “It was a garbled story. A fiddle came into it somewhere. I don’t recall the details, perhaps I never knew them. The trapper’s English wasn’t exactly -“

  “You need horsehair to make a fiddle-bow.

  ..” Erasmus looked for a moment across the moonlit courtyard. “There was a fiddler,” he said with sudden and rather startling loudness. “He was mentioned … They had a fiddler aboard to dance the slaves.”

  “Did they so? That may be it then. I didn’t think too much of it at the time. In the months after the Peace Treaty people came with all sorts of stories, just to gain our goodwill.”

  “Did he say where it was?”’

  “He did not say exactly. It was in the country north of Cape Florida and the Miami River. That is a region of pinewood ridge and jungle hummock, completely trackless—it has never been mapped.”

  “Could the man be found again?”’

  “I shouldn’t think so. Not in time to be of any use to you. These fellows go off for months into the wilds.

  But I can make enquiries among the Mission Indians who have stayed on here. Most of them speak some Spanish, it is not difficult to find an interpreter. Someone may be found who knows something of the matter. There may be trade links. It is not really so improbable that a small settlement could have survived down there. They are marshlands mainly, I believe, but game must be plentiful, fish too, and it is healthier than the west side because of the sea breezes. During the years of the war there were no troop movements or landings in the far south of Florida. What would have been the point? Miles from anywhere, no use to anyone. There are reports of mixed bands of negroes and Indians from Mississippi raiding in West Florida, but nothing south of the Still John River. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “I would be extremely grateful.” Despite his efforts at containment, Erasmus’s voice quivered slightly. He had felt his soul expand with delight at this confirmation of his hopes.

  “It means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”’

  Erasmus straightened up at this and glanced away.

  Only feelings of gratitude to Redwood prevented him from resenting this intimate question more. He felt the eyes of the other man fixed on him still. “I have come from England expressly to see justice done,” he said.

  ‘Ah, yes, I forgot justice.” Redwood raised his head and smiled and his strong teeth gleamed in the moonlight. It was a careless smile, though with something bitter in it, not the smile of a stupid man.

  “Justice is a mighty fine thing,” he said.

  42.

  Mr George Watson, Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the Southern District, arrived from Savannah on the following afternoon. He was a tall man, rather cadaverous, with a thin, high-bridged nose through which the breath seemed to come with some difficulty or reluctance. There were few men who knew more about the ways of Indians than Watson.

  He said as much himself to Erasmus not long after his arrival. In the name of the Great White King he had made deals of one sort or another with them throughout Georgia and the Carolinas, from Pantico Sound to Brunswick. The Tuscarora, the Yamassee, the Choctaw, the Chickasee and the confederate tribes of the Creeks—Watson knew them all. Perhaps because of this long experience his manner had become like theirs: slow and dignified and impassive.

  He spent much of the time before the conference closeted with Campbell, deciding on policy, studying maps of the northeast tidewater area, which was where they hoped to obtain the major concessions. Occasionally they emerged to pace together on the terrace or in the gardens behind the house, affording as they did so a remarkable study in contrasts, the wiry, tenacious Governor with his soft voice and emphatic gestures and the dignified, sonorous Agent in his long-skirted coat and old-fashioned, full-bottomed wig.

  For the most part, however, Erasmus saw little of either, a circumstance he did not mind, as it left him free to explore the district surrounding Still Augustine and compile his report; he had been perfectly sincere, while at the same time knowing it would be a powerful inducement to Campbell, in what he had said about the possibilities of investments in the colony.

  It did not take him very long to see that these were considerable indeed. As he rode about the countryside, he was able to mature his intentions with regard to his renegade cousin while at the same time calculating the profits that could be made here, in advance of the influx of population which must inevitably come, once the Indians had been pacified. These considerations of justice and pecuniary advantage, though one belonged in the moral and the other in the material realm, seemed of the same order to Erasmus, and gave him a similar kind of satisfaction, sanctified equally by law and the dictates of feeling.

  There was no doubt that the territory offered much to the colonist. The cold in winter was only sufficient to mark the difference of season, without preventing the growth of vegetables—green peas could be had at Christmas without the aid of fire or glass. The same field could give two crops of Indian corn in a year and Erasmus was reliably informed that indigo, which he knew to be a highly profitable export crop in South Carolina, could here be cut four times a year and need not be planted more often than once in three years. The rivers that ran through the country made the cost of transport negligible.

  The Still John River admitted vessels of nine-foot draught for a considerable way—how far he was not able precisely to determine; and there was an excellent harbour at the mouth of the Mosketto. His mind was busy with schemes. Settling accounts with his cousin might keep him in Florida some time yet, but he could send his instructions to London. This was Crown property now and the Crown always needed money.

  The land could be purchased through an agent. Then concerted advertising to attract settlement…

  He did not speak of these plans to anyone, but he threw off various possibilities when he was alone with the Governor, partly in order to keep him well disposed, but also because he had recognized from the start that Campbell, though highly cautious, had an instinct for commerce which might be turned to good account.

  It would be necessary to form a company, with an office in Still Augustine, so as to increase profits by levying a local tax on the resale of the land. Someone of local standing would be needed for this, someone with strong backing, in case of disputes.

  However, Campbell was not able to give these matters much of his mind at present. As the day appointed for the conference approached, he grew brusquer and more irascible, though his eyes still held their twinkling light. Things were not going well. The Indians had remained camped on the west bank of the river. It was reported that their supplies of food were running low. A schooner and a pilot-boat were on the way from Georgia, loaded with rum, tobacco, parched corn and a variety of gifts combeads, kettles, mirrors, knives—but unfavourable winds had slowed their passage and they had not yet
arrived. Meanwhile, the braves were becoming disgruntled.

  “Curse this weather,” Campbell said, not for the first time. “Not having the baubles to distribute sets us off to a bad start. The devils will start raising mischief before much longer. The chiefs can’t control the young men indefinitely. They have got no liquor, heaven be praised.”

  “They will not relish being kept long there, at the start of their hunting season,” Watson conceded with his usual gravity.

  They were sitting at dinner on the eve of the conference.

  At the Agent’s suggestion Erasmus had been invited to attend this as an observer. He could be presented as a special envoy from England, a proof that the Great White Father took an interest in his red children. Such things impressed them, Watson said.

  Erasmus had accepted eagerly enough, curious to see how the business would be managed. “These Creeks were our allies in the late wars,” he said now. “Surely that will provide a good foundation for these talks we are entering upon tomorrow?”’

  “Allies?”’ Watson’s brows rose without otherwise disturbing the solemn composure of his face. “My dear sir, these fellows have no concept of loyalty, none at all, except in their own clans. They are fickle and they are treacherous, sir, they are wilder than their own ponies. I know them, by God, I have been dealing with redskins for thirty years. They have to be treated as we treat children, with gifts and material inducements. They will not act from a spirit of service, they will do nothing except they see a profit in it for themselves. They fought for us, as you rightly say, but that was more because they wanted the run of the hunting grounds on this side of the river than out of friendship.”