The Legend of Tyoga Weathersby (44 page)

Like costumed apparitions, the soldiers of his majesty’s royal guard marched into the light of the fire with their gleaming bayonets shimmering in the glow of the dancing flames. Crisply, the columns split by pairs to create a path through which the Lord Governor could make his appearance. At a single command, the soldiers of the guard extended their weapons at arms length and waited in silence while Governor Nott slowly paraded along the human corridor.

Tyoga, Chief Blue Coat, and the Mattaponi continued to stare into the fire. Thunder Bow spit a bit of dislodged pemikan to the ground as members of the governor’s retinue made their appearance. Brister was seated just beyond the light of the fire, pulling at some jerky.

Henry Carry came into the light of the fire first. He was followed by Henry Tyler, and Jerimiah Spotswood, and another local landowner. The dignitaries took their place in line before stepping aside to make way for the Governor himself.

He was a slight man. His diminutive stature was made all the more apparent by the members of his royal guard who were each a head taller than he. Dressed in formal attire, his cream-colored tunic, embroidered with a thick, gold brocade of elaborate and intricate design, complemented his tan breeches and vanilla stockings. The white ruffle around his neck indicated that he had every intention of impressing his audience with his own importance. He wore a round brimmed Tudor bonnet.

Marching with ridiculously exaggerated steps through the honor-guard column, his air of entitlement would have been embarrassing had it not been worn with such sincerity. With deliberate, measure steps, he made his way toward the campfire around which the Mattaponi were seated. Planting both feet disrespectfully close to Chief Blue Coat’s crossed legs, he placed one hand on his hip in a sign that he was ready to be formally announced.

Stepping crisply forward, the royal guardsman at the head of the column announced to the night, “His Exellency, Lord Governor Edward Nott.”

Nott bowed at the waist.

“Ja yo—siha—s?” Chief Blue Coat asked.

“Excuse me?” Governor Nott responded.

“He asked if you are hungry,” Tyoga told him. “Do you want something to eat? It is how the Mattaponi say hello.”

“Oh. Well then … tell him … ‘hello’ and that I have already eaten.”

“Eh toya,” the Chief replied knowing that the Governor did not understand his greeting and that he was not the least bit interested if he was hungry or not.

“Sit down,” Tyoga told the Governor.

Without looking around, the Governor began to sit, seemingly on thin air. Before his knees were bent, a folding chair appeared into which he settled himself.

Acknowledging the Governor not at all, Chief Blue Coat continued to stare into the fire. Several minutes passed before the Chief rose to his feet. Thunder Bow rolled a large willow stump onto the bearskin he had been seated upon and turned it upright for him to use as a seat. It brought him eye-to-eye with Governor Nott.

“Eachta—eh-alo,” the Chief announced.

“He is listening,” Tyoga said to Nott.

“Oh, look here, my good man,” the Governor began with a distinctively irritable tone. “It makes absolutely no sense me speaking to this man who has no idea what it is I am saying. Come over here so that I may conduct my business with you!”

“The land that you wish to speak about belongs to Chief Blue Coat and the Mattaponi,” Tyoga replied. “Governor Nott, the Mattaponi have lived on this land for thousands of years. For generations, they have farmed the land; cared for the land; and treated it with reverence and respect. The land has provided them with everything they have needed to survive. Food, clothing, housing, and a resting place for their ancestors. They do not see the land as a source of wealth or as producing commodities that can be purchased and sold. The land is alive to them. It provides for them as a mother provides for her children, and they care for the land just as they do their own mothers. They do it no harm and ask no more from it but what it can spare. If it is the land you wish to speak about, then your business is with Chief Blue Coat. I will tell him what you are here to ask of his people.”

“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 will 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.”