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Brothers Born of One Mother

Brothers Born of One Mother  British–Native American Relations in the Colonial Southeast

Michelle LeMaster

University of Virginia Press Charlottesville and London University of Virginia Press © 2012 by the Rector and Visitors of the University of Virginia All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America on acid- free paper First published 2012

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data LeMaster, Michelle, 1970- Brothers born of one mother : British Native American relations in the colonial Southeast / Michelle LeMaster. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. isbn 978-0-8139-3241-5 (cloth : alk. paper) — isbn 978-0-8139-3242-2 (e- book) 1. Masculinity—Southern States—History. 2. Femininity—Southern States—History. 3. Indians, Treatment of—Southern States—History. 4. British—Southern States— History. I. Title. bf692.5.l457 2012 305.30975′09033—dc23 2011035010 For my parents

Contents

Acknowledgments ix Introduction 1 1. A “Friend” and a “Brother”: Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 15 2. “ I Am a Man and a Warrior”: Native and British Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 51 3. “ To Protect Th em and Th eir Wives and Children”: Women and War 84 4. Guns and Garters: Men, Women, and the Trade 118 5. “ To Stay amongst Th em by a Marriage”: Th e Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 149 Conclusion 185 Appendix: Maps Th e Southeast circa 1715 194 Th e Southeast in the 1740s 195 Th e Southeast on the eve of the American Revolution 196 settlements, mid- eighteenth century 197 Creek settlements, mid- eighteenth century 198 Notes 199 Bibliography 253 Index 285

Acknowledgments

In the course of any research project, one incurs a signifi cant number of debts. Although my thanks seem inadequate, I wish to acknowledge those who have helped me so substantially along the way. Th is work could not have been com- pleted without the direction and support of Jack P. Greene. He gave me the freedom to pursue my own passions while also setting high standards for scholarship. I am also grateful for the guidance I received at the Johns Hopkins University from Michael Johnson, Toby Ditz, A. J. R. Russell- Wood, Ron Wal- ters, and Phil Morgan. Th e members of the Colonial American History Semi- nar at Hopkins provided both penetrating critiques and collegial camaraderie, and I value the continued support that I receive from many of the former mem- bers, especially Ellen Holmes Pearson and Bradford Wood. Numerous institutions provided fi nancial assistance for this project, with- out which it would have been impossible for me to complete it. Research and teaching fellowships along with a Southern History Research Grant from Th e Johns Hopkins University helped fund the initial research. Two unfunded fel- lowships from the Institute for Southern Studies at the University of South Carolina helped me to obtain temporary housing and library privileges at the university during my stay in Columbia. A Council on Faculty Research Grant from Eastern Illinois University and a Paul J. Franz Jr. and Class of 1968 Junior Faculty Fellowship from Lehigh University allowed me to complete the archi- val research and to conduct interviews in the Nation. Many scholars have given generously of their time, reading portions of the manuscript. I am particularly grateful to James Merrell, James Saeger, and Amy Turner-Bushnell, who read the entire book. Many others read chapters, includ- ing Alan Gallay, Monica Najar, and John Pettegrew. Th eir insightful comments helped me to reconsider important ideas and reshape the argument in critical ways. Faculty colloquia at Eastern Illinois University and Lehigh University x Acknowledgments supplied additional feedback, as did a women’s reading group at Eastern Illi- nois University (which included Sace Elder, Lynnea Magnuson, and Debra Reed). Anne Little and the anonymous readers for the University of Virginia Press provided a rigorous critique that helped me to hone key points. Th e Newberry Seminar in Early American History and the Omohundro Institute for Early American History and Culture provided a stimulating forum for me to present chapters and work out my ideas. Several scholars commented on portions of the project presented at conferences, including Nancy Shoemaker and Clara Sue Kidwell. Th e staff at the many repositories I visited gave of their time and expertise, helping me to fi nd sources and generally making the task of completing re- search pleasant and fruitful. I wish to thank the North Carolina Department of History and Archives in Raleigh; the South Caroliniana Library at the Uni- versity of South Carolina in Columbia; the South Carolina Historical Society in Charleston; the Georgia Department of Archives and History in Atlanta; the Georgia Historical Society in Savannah; and the Library of Congress. Very special thanks go to the South Carolina Department of Archives and History in Columbia. Th e wonderful staff put up with me for several months, pulling volume after volume of Council Journals and Miscellaneous Records. Th eir humor and fl exibility were greatly appreciated. I especially wish to thank the Choctaw Nation of for the gen- erous hospitality that I received when I visited in 2004 and 2007. I am par- ticularly grateful to Olin Williams, Cultural Preservation Specialist, who gra- ciously introduced me to many people in the nation and to his nation’s history. Chief Greg Pyle was very welcoming as well. I also wish to acknowledge the in- valuable assistance of Teresa Billy, Clive Billy, and Hannah Bryan of the Choc- taw Language Department, as well as the committee working to produce a new Choctaw dictionary, in helping me with translations of eighteenth-century transcriptions of Choctaw words. I received very useful insights from talking with Nancy Southerland- Holmes of the Choctaw National Capitol Museum and Sandra Stroud of Chi Hullo Li. I also wish to thank Terry Cole, Barbara Grant, Tom Williams, and Burt Holt for generously sharing their time. I am sure that this work has been greatly improved because of their input. Any and all errors that remain are entirely my own. Brothers Born of One Mother

Introduction

n April 12, 1715, a Yamasee Indian approached the wife of prominent OPort Royal planter and sometime trader William Bray “and told her he had a great Matter to tell her, which was that the Creek Indians had a De- sign to cut of[f ] the Traders fi rst and then to fall on the Settlement, and that itt was very neare, but that he had a great Love for her and her two Sisters and when itt was very near he would come again and when he came next they must goe immediately to their Town.”¹ After years of corrupt trading prac- tices, abuse and enslavement of their women and children, and encroachment on their lands, Yamasee and Ochese (soon to be known as the Lower Creek) Indians were nearing the breaking point in their alliance with Charles Town. Although Carolina offi cials responded promptly to this and similar warnings and sent representatives to Pocotaligo (the chief Yamasee town) to try to ease the tensions, the situation was already spiraling dangerously out of control. Th e emissaries—including Bray; the former Indian agent John Wright; and the current agent to the Yamasee, Th omas Nairne; along with several others— met with Yamasee headmen on April 14, 1715. Accounts of the meeting that fol- lowed diff er substantially. According to one contemporary account, the British ambassadors delivered a peaceful message: they promised redress of grievances and reminded the Yamasee of the benefi ts of the alliance between Pocotaligo and Charles Town. After the Carolinians had gone to sleep that night, how- ever, a Yamasee woman who spoke English arrived in the town square of Po- cotaligo and reported that the Englishmen had not come to make peace but rather to spy. In the already- tense atmosphere of the council house that night, this rumor ignited a confl agration.² Th e Yamasee, however, provided a dif- ferent account of the origins of the war. Th e Huspaw king claimed that “Mr. Wright said that the white men would come and [fetch] [illegible] the Yama- sees in one night, and that they would hang four of their head men and take all 2 Introduction the rest of them for Slaves, and that he would send them all off the Country, for he said that the men of the Yamasees were like women, and shew’d his hands one to the other, and what he said vex’d the great Warrier’s, and this made them begin the war.”³ Regardless of which scenario was closer to the truth, only two British ambassadors survived the night. Colleton County militia captain Sey- mour Burroughs was shot twice before escaping by plunging into the Pocota- ligo River, while another unnamed man hid in the woods.⁴ What followed was one of the most devastating Indian wars in British colonial history. Th e Yamasee fell on the settlement of Port Royal. Panicked men, women, and children, warned by Burroughs, had already fl ed to a ship in the harbor. A second war party attacked Saint Bartholomew’s Parish with greater success, killing more than one hundred settlers without regard to age or sex.⁵ Other tribes quickly joined in, convincing the British that they were fac- ing a general conspiracy among their Indian neighbors. Over the next several months, Charles Town offi cials scrambled to build fortifi cations “for the recep- tion of the women and children, and to secure provisions for them and others in distress.”⁶ Th e Yamasee also scrambled to build a fort for similar purposes, but they were overrun before its construction was complete.⁷ Active fi ghting between the British and Yamasee lasted only a few months. In the end, the British killed or enslaved hundreds of Yamasee men, women, and children. Hundreds more fl ed either to the Ocheses, to other neighbor- ing towns, or to the Spanish in St. Augustine. Th e repercussions for Anglo- Indian relations would be felt for years to come. Long after, the British contin- ued to fear “Rupture and War with those Savages, which would be attended with many terrible Consequences from their Manner of making War, and their Cruelty to Captives, which is still fresh in the Memory of some who were so happy as to survive their Captivity in the last bloody Indian War.”⁸ For many Indians, on the other hand, the war evoked both sorrow at the terrible losses they suff ered and pride in the damage they had infl icted upon their aggressive white neighbors. Coweta (Ochese) headman Cherekeileigie later remembered that during the war he “did the English all the harm I could.” For him, perform- ing well in warfare, either against the English or against enemy Indians like the Tuscarora, meant that he had given “proofes of my being a man.”⁹ While the military and diplomatic story of the Yamasee War is well known, scholars have been slower to acknowledge that the war, like so many other as- pects of British-native contact in the region, was shaped by both complemen- tary and clashing understandings of masculinity and femininity.¹⁰ Th ese com- Introduction 3 peting ideas were expressed in a variety of ways as people of all ages and sexes were drawn into the confl ict. Abuse and enslavement of Indian women by male English and Scottish traders was one of the foremost Yamasee grievances. Al- though in both British and Indian societies women did not take primary re- sponsibility for diplomatic relations, individual women played a crucial part in the days preceding the war. An English woman received one of the fi rst warn- ings that a rupture was imminent, and a Yamasee woman brought the deadly rumors that contributed to the execution of the South Carolina ambassadors. In spite of shared values that linked women, femininity, and noncombatant status, women and children on both sides became casualties of the ensuing mayhem, while British and native men struggled to fi nd means to defend their families. Notions of masculinity and its connections to political leadership and military concerns quickly came to the forefront of the confl ict. Male leaders conducted the negotiations intended to avoid the confl ict, and a gendered lan- guage of insult contributed to undermining the talks. Men then proved their manhood when they picked up weapons to defend their communities and avenge the wrongs they believed had been visited upon them. British depen- dence on Indian warriors for the defense of the province could not be ignored, and the challenge that such weakness presented to English masculinity raised a number of diffi cult questions for colonial leaders in the war’s aftermath.

Gender, Family, and Rhetoric in Cross-Cultural Contexts

Ideals of normative gendered behavior both infl uenced and were infl uenced by contact between British and Amerindian cultures. Th e arrival of the English in what is now the southeastern United States after 1660 brought several dif- ferent gender systems into contact.¹¹ In the decades that followed, English (or, after 1707, British) offi cials would try to construct and maintain working re- lationships with the various native groups that inhabited the region. Because notions of gender and family were so fundamental to the social and political organization of all the cultures of the region, they were logical building blocks in the creation of new diplomatic norms to govern interactions. Gender ideol- ogy, therefore, would shape cross- cultural interactions (for better or for worse) throughout the period of British occupation. Gendered language fi gures prom- inently in the offi cial records produced by colonial governors, legislators, and clerks and in travel accounts and natural histories. Both Anglo-American and Native American leaders regularly expressed their understandings of manhood 4 Introduction and kinship. Shared or contrasting ideas of womanhood, as well as men’s re- lationships to women and children, also played signifi cant rolls in discussions. Rhetoric based on notions of family, masculinity, and femininity became a key component of both formal and informal negotiations. Th ese intercultural con- versations provide a unique window into the process of colonization in colonial America.¹² Th ey reveal areas of cultural overlap and confl ict. More important, they illustrate the eff orts of both sides to establish cross-cultural understand- ing and to build new diplomatic systems in a new world.¹³ Bringing these gendered conversations into focus sheds new light on seem- ingly familiar subjects like diplomacy, war, and trade. Issues of masculinity in particular fi gured prominently in treaty talks and other offi cial and unoffi cial records. Th e collision of diff erent cultural expectations of manly behavior had signifi cant implications for military and diplomatic relations, furthering alli- ances in some cases and disrupting them in others. Further, men’s relationships to and responsibilities for women and children became signifi cant areas of dis- cussion and negotiation, as well as of confl ict and misunderstanding. Women, although relatively silent during formal meetings, shaped the relationships between the British and Indians through their active participation in diplo- macy, war, and trade. Gendered language can both reveal and conceal cultural values and actual gendered behavior. Ideas about gender were contested and unstable within each society. Certainly, some “rules” regarding gendered behavior were culturally en- forced or built structurally into the framework of each society. Th e British legal system supported a certain vision of appropriate gender roles and sexual be- havior. In native society, shunning, ridicule, or threats penalized the violation of taboos, while intraclan discipline or interclan retribution enforced socially agreed-upon norms. Other aspects of gender performance were more fl exible, however, or might be less generally accepted or enforced. Within Britain it- self (and in the colonies), expectations regarding gendered behavior diff ered ac- cording to an individual’s class, religious affi liation, and personal circumstances. Diff erent social groups accepted divergent expressions of sexuality and family relations.¹⁴ Indian communities, too, tolerated certain variations on manhood and womanhood, and some crossing of gender boundaries was allowed, as long as it occurred in socially sanctioned ways.¹⁵ Many individuals defi ed even gen- erally agreed-upon gender roles (and suff ered the consequences). It is most ac- curate, then, to speak of British and native masculinities and femininities rather than any kind of unitary gender identities. Introduction 5 Furthermore, gender itself is but one aspect of the far more complex con- struct that is individual identity and but one of many categories around which society is organized. As such, gender animates and intersects with other iden- tities and social structures. In British society, a person’s position in society was also shaped by class, race, age, and legal status (free or unfree, married or single). In certain circumstances class and race might trump gender (for example, an elite woman might own male slaves or indentured servants). In native society clan membership was the single most important marker of identity, although age and individual abilities and accomplishments contributed to a person’s role and standing in the community. Gender, as an analytical tool, sheds light on certain aspects of behavior, identity, and cultural values but can never be fully separated from other factors.¹⁶ Th e gendered rhetoric that emerges from the historical record, therefore, does not refl ect a social consensus on gender ideals. Instead, it was constructed by the speaker, often with a deliberate aim. Elite men most often delivered dip- lomatic speeches and disproportionally shaped the kinds of cross-cultural con- versations that came to characterize Anglo-Indian relations. Leaders on both sides at times depicted an idealized form of gender ideology, one that was ex- aggerated and manipulated in order to achieve maximum eff ect. Speakers often sought to appropriate what they saw as the values of the other side in order to shame or motivate allies into desired behavior, or they presented distorted per- formances of gendered ideals from their own society in order to aff ect the out- come of negotiations or gain prestige. As a result, the picture that emerges is itself often inconsistent and contested. Consideration of behavior can sometimes broaden the picture substantially. When individuals behaved in ways that belied the rhetoric of offi cial meetings, they demonstrated the diversity possible within their societies or within those areas in which gendered ideology was contested. Deeds also reveal values, espe- cially those held by women, that went unarticulated by male leaders. Actions, as well as rhetoric, then, often produced a kind of cross- cultural conversation that exposes confl icting gender ideals. Even in these cases, however, one must keep in mind that all of these gendered performances were mediated through the documentary record. Ideas of family also emerged regularly during cross-cultural conversations between the British and Native Americans. In both societies, family was a key component of social organization and performed crucial governing functions. In the British system, the patriarchal family was a microcosm of the state, and 6 Introduction the patriarch was responsible for governing his dependents.¹⁷ In native society, clan membership determined citizenship in the society. Clans implemented law and meted out justice, and tribal councils included senior members of each clan. Family was so crucial to native ways of understanding the world that most native societies recognized two categories of people: kin and enemies.¹⁸ Th ere- fore, fi ctive kinship played a crucial role in shaping all intercultural relations. Family terminology came to defi ne Anglo-Indian relationships, and genuine kinship ties bound the various groups together. Yet because each side under- stood family in diff erent ways, the use of kinship rhetoric became an equally complex and contested part of diplomatic interactions.

The Colonial Southeast

Th e colonial Southeast provides a unique locus for evaluating the role of gender in shaping Anglo-Indian contact.¹⁹ Th e Southeast as a region diff ered substan- tially from other territories claimed by the English, most notably New England and the Chesapeake. In those places, the English had managed to establish a clear dominance by the last quarter of the seventeenth century. Indians, de- feated in King Philip’s War and Bacon’s Rebellion, respectively, were reduced to the status of subordinate tributaries that posed little threat to the stabil- ity of expanding English settlements.²⁰ In the Southeast, however, the Brit- ish faced substantial competition that hindered their eff orts to assert domi- nance. Th e Spanish in and the French in Louisiana posed a challenge to British territorial aspirations, restricting British expansion and threatening the stability of their settlements. British hegemony was also disputed by the several powerful Indian “tribes” that inhabited the region, including the Creek (Muskogee), , Choctaw, Cherokee, and Catawba, as well as a num- ber of smaller coastal tribes.²¹ Too numerous to be pushed aside or easily de- feated, the Indians were a force to be reckoned with. Th ey took advantage of European competition to seek multiple alliances and trading relationships. Un- able to establish the kind of control they desired and had achieved elsewhere, the British were forced to negotiate with their native allies, making concessions and establishing systems of diplomacy that recognized at least some of the cul- tural expectations of native peoples. In the centuries before contact, southeastern nations had developed a work- ing set of norms that governed diplomacy, war, intermarriage, and trade between neighbors in the region. In this sense, a kind of international law set standards for intergroup interaction. Although substantial diversity characterized south- Introduction 7 eastern Indian communities, these broader rules drew upon and reinforced cul- tural similarities between groups and helped create a regional diplomatic cul- ture. Th e European invasion of the Southeast introduced new players into this existing matrix of relations, bringing about a collision in diplomatic systems. In Europe, the various countries had developed a “Law of Nations” that governed international relations. Codifi ed in the writings of Hugo Grotius and later Em- merich de Vattel, the Law of Nations specifi ed a general European standard regulating diplomacy and war.²² Colonization would bring these two regional systems in contact, and often into confl ict. As a result of this meeting of European and native laws of nations, Brit- ish offi cials and native leaders were forced to construct a new set of diplomatic norms to govern relations in the region, norms that relied upon notions of gender and the family and rhetoric relating to both. Th is eff ort to create a new international system sets the colonial period apart from that which would fol- low.²³ Although it would be more than a decade after the Revolution before the new United States was able to fully gain control of Indian aff airs in the Southeast, American expansionism and “civilization policy” would put enor- mous pressure on native societies to alter their family structures and divisions of labor. Consequently, the last forty years before removal (from the 1790s to the 1830s) was a period of substantial transformation in Indian gender rela- tions. Th e period of British colonization does not feature this kind of dramatic change. Instead, during this earlier period, much greater continuity persisted within Indian gender systems, and Indian nations were powerful enough to force the British to negotiate on Indian terms. As a result, focusing on the co- lonial period off ers a substantially diff erent perspective on cross- cultural gen- der relations. Th e British were unable to pressure Indian nations into changing their constructions of gender and therefore had to work with existing native norms. Th e real story of the colonial period, then, is not about native accul- turation to Anglo- American gender norms. Rather, it is a story of mutual ad- aptation, dependence, compromise, and negotiation. Although neither side ac- cepted the gender ideology of the other (and it is doubtful that either ever fully comprehended the other’s notions or behavior), they managed to build a functioning system of diplomacy that drew on agreed-upon tropes and shared practices. To some extent, the relationship between the British and powerful inland tribes is diffi cult to characterize. Th e Southeast can’t really be termed a “middle ground,” as defi ned by Richard White, and it certainly wasn’t “native ground.”²⁴ Instead, it was a place in which the balance of power shifted during the eigh- 8 Introduction teenth century, creating complex and often changing diplomatic situations that required constant renegotiation and reevaluation of existing relationships.²⁵ Th e English stepped into a region already radically altered by the aftereff ects of contact, in which Spanish settlers and Indians had existed in uneasy proximity for decades. In the 1660s, when the English began creating their fi rst permanent settlements, Indians dominated the region. Early English and Scottish colonists depended upon Indian tolerance and often required Indian support and protec- tion. Offi cials encouraged Carolina’s closest Indian allies to relocate and live near the settlements to serve as buff ers against Spanish or hostile Indian invasion. English reliance on native trading partners for defense demonstrated clearly the weakness of the English colonies themselves. Th e English often found their na- tive allies diffi cult to manage, and when they decided to break off their rela- tionship with one group, they had to rely on another group to remove the fi rst from the fi eld. Th ey used the Savannah to defeat the Westo, then turned Pied- mont groups against the Savannah. Most signifi cantly, though, the Tuscarora and Yamasee Wars of 1711 and 1715, respectively, demonstrated the power of the Indians and the weakness of the British settlements. In both cases, Indian at- tacks threatened to wipe out the young colonies, and the British had to turn to native allies to help defeat their enemies.²⁶ Th e balance of power in the region shifted substantially over the next forty years. As the Carolinas grew and Georgia was founded, British might in the region expanded. More and more settlers moved into the region, bolstering the number of men the British could put in the fi eld and putting increasing pres- sure on Indian villages and hunting territories. Th e growing success of rice and later indigo planting reduced Carolinians’ reliance on the deerskin trade, at a time when southern tribes had become more and more dependent on it. Ear- lier slave raids had weakened , reducing eff ective Spanish con- trol to those areas around the forts at St. Augustine, Pensacola, and San Mar- cos. To the west, the French remained weak and dependent upon metropolitan offi cials for support and supplies. Neither Spain nor France could mount an ef- fective challenge to British power, although they provided an alternative source of trade goods and alliances to southeastern tribes, which played the three off against one another (with varying degrees of success). For much of this period, it probably was not clear to anyone who could exert the greatest power. Natives’ ability to fi nd other trading partners or form other alliances rendered them, in British eyes, recalcitrant and untrustworthy. Powerful inland tribes there- fore maintained a considerable degree of autonomy.²⁷ Th e balance of power tipped in favor of the British with the defeat of the Introduction 9 French in the French and Indian War. Th e Cherokee War of 1759–61, part of the larger confl ict, did not have the devastating eff ects of earlier Indian wars for the British, and a force of combined colonial and regular troops relied less on Indian allies to force an end to the confl ict. With the removal of the Spanish from Florida and the transfer of Louisiana to Spain, Britain emerged as the dominant force in the region. Th e continued presence of the Spanish left south- eastern tribes an alternative to British alliances that their northern counterparts lacked, but the Spanish were weak and unreliable as a source of trade goods, and many tribes found that eff orts to play the British and Spanish against one an- other were less successful than they had hoped.²⁸ A simple declension narrative, then, in which Indian peoples lost power and became subordinate to European powers distorts our picture of the colo- nial Southeast. Such an analysis reads the story of nineteenth- century accul- turation and removal back in time and does not recognize the complex, shifting power relations of the eighteenth century. Looking at the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries provides a view of intercultural negotiations in the time before Anglo- American dominance was assured and when the potential for in- tercultural exchange, rather than conquest, still existed. Europeans and natives were both forced to adapt to the norms and traditions of the other. Diplomacy and trade incorporated ceremonies and rhetoric from several cultures, forging a set of hybrid practices that, while never fully embraced by either side, allowed Europeans and Indians to talk to one another. Th is era of ambiguous power relations illuminates the ways these cultures responded to encounters with un- familiar gender systems while Amerindians still had the power to make inde- pendent decisions. To advance particular aims, both at times modifi ed their be- havior to maximize similarities or exploit diff erences but never fundamentally altered their notions of masculinity and femininity. Th e Indians still had the ability to adapt to a white presence in ways consistent with their own cultures because Europeans could not yet dictate the terms of interaction. Th e British, on the other hand, found themselves forced to make frustrating concessions to groups they considered inferior but could not control.

Themes

Ideas about gender shaped intercultural contact in the colonial Southeast in several key ways. First, Indian and British leaders deliberately tried to fi nd a common meeting place of diplomacy and metaphor, which was often highly gendered. In a region in which no one group could fully dominate the others, 10 Introduction all parties involved had to fi nd points of similarity or agreement where they could meet. Each group had diff erent concepts of what it meant to be men and women, fathers and mothers, or brothers and sisters. Yet they shared enough to allow for the use of gendered and familial metaphors to describe their re- lationship in ways acceptable to both, although fully understood by neither. Men in both British and southeastern Indian cultures performed most offi cial diplomatic and military functions, while women generally had the care of the home and the family.²⁹ Building on these similarities, British and native lead- ers constructed a set of diplomatic, military, and trade protocols designed to promote peaceful interactions. Such formalities did not always work, and mis- understandings were common, but even misunderstandings could be produc- tive in allowing all to see the relationship in ways that suited them. Together, they constructed and then manipulated a gendered language of diplomacy to advance their own separate interests. Second, participants had only a limited ability to identify or exploit areas of cultural overlap. Diff erences in how natives and whites understood gen- der aff ected how each viewed and defi ned the other. Each group believed its own gender roles and norms natural. When men and women did not conform to expectations of proper behavior, their actions were read as unnatural, sug- gesting that something was fundamentally wrong in the culture. White and Indian men observed one another’s occupations, martial ability, and family re- lations and found substantial points of diff erence. In the end, each group con- cluded that the other were not proper men. Because they misperceived each other’s cultures, they also tended to make tactical errors in managing relations. Th ey either underestimated one another or appealed to values that the other simply did not hold. Th ey could also unwittingly (or wittingly) insult one an- other by their failure to recognize the other’s manhood. Contrasting views of the proper roles of women also contributed to misunderstandings. Maltreat- ment of women disrupted diplomacy, and confl ict often arose on this score. By the late eighteenth century, as Anglo-Americans became more confi dent in their ability to assert their preeminence in the region, they devoted less eff ort to fi nding a common ground based on shared notions of manhood or family, thereby undermining the gendered diplomatic language that had characterized the earlier period. Finally, in addition to causing Englishmen and natives to negotiate their notions of gender within the context of diplomacy, contact caused a renego- tiation of gender ideals within societies. Contact caused more substantial al- Introduction 11 teration to native than British gender roles, but all groups had to adapt to the complex geopolitical realities of the Southeast. Overall, however, substantial continuities persisted in both British and native notions of gender and divi- sions of labor, and these continuities were often more signifi cant in the lives of participants than was change during the pre- Revolutionary period. Some scholars have suggested a distinction between change in people’s experiences on the one hand and transformations in status or the larger gender system on the other.³⁰ Th is idea applies well to both the British and their native neighbors in the Southeast. Although colonization forced some changes in British notions of gender (most notably the adoption of an increasingly militarized stance and martial notions of manhood that emphasized the ideal of the citizen- soldier), these changes are less notable than the broader continuity in gender ideals that persisted throughout the era. Patriarchal family organization and the division of labor that accompanied it survived and adapted to the realities of frontier life and plantation slavery.³¹ Only those involved directly in the deerskin trade and a small number of settlers living on the most distant frontiers found that new family forms and gendered divisions of labor were benefi cial.³² Native peoples faced more pressure than did the British, resulting in more substantial changes in economic orientation to meet the needs of the trade and new alli- ances. Nevertheless, Native Americans adapted to the radical forces of Euro- pean colonialism without losing the basic foundations of their culture or ex- periencing substantial transformation in their overall concepts of proper men’s and women’s roles. During the seventeenth and most of the eighteenth century, the new colonial governments of the southern colonies were too weak to force major alterations in gender relations on the strong tribes of the Southeast.³³ Not until the early nineteenth century would native societies experience more substantial transformations in their gender organization, as American pressures to “civilize” led tribal governments to accept patrilineal inheritance and many acculturated elites adopted patriarchal family organization. Five thematic chapters explore four major areas of Indian- white interac- tion: diplomacy, war, trade, and intermarriage. Chapter 1 investigates the role of gender in diplomacy. Formal diplomatic meetings were the key to establishing and maintaining relationships and were the primary forum in which gendered rhetoric was utilized and manipulated. Participants frequently employed fam- ily analogies and gendered metaphors, and the formalities involved women as well as men. Because native leaders and white offi cials had diff ering views of kinship and of women’s role in diplomacy and society, however, they also held 12 Introduction variant views of what fi ctive familial relationships in diplomacy meant. Such misunderstandings allowed each party to see the relationship in its own way, without ever fully understanding how the other viewed these metaphors. Warfare, because of its lethal potential, occupied the greatest amount of concern and often dominated diplomatic discussions. Indian and European societies recognized an intimate link between manhood and warfare, which is the subject of chapter 2. Leaders sought to impress their allies or intimidate en- emies by asserting the military prowess of their young men and, by extension, the relative power of their societies. Ultimately, each group judged the mascu- linity of others based on its own culturally specifi c notions of proper martial behavior and found these other men wanting. As chapter 3 demonstrates, each side also had to deal with the presence of women, both white and native, on the frontiers during war. Allies met to discuss problems of defense, while enemies used the failure of their foes to spare nonwarriors as justifi cation for continued warfare and escalating atrocities. Trade, in the meantime, was one of the strongest ties binding together Eu- ropeans and Indians and is the focus of chapter 4. It forced Englishmen and natives to defi ne men’s and women’s roles in commerce and the family economy. Commerce also provoked a renegotiation of gender roles in Indian society (and, to a far lesser extent, in British frontier society), providing new opportunities for both sexes but ultimately doing little to change the fundamental divisions of labor. Traditional gender roles shaped how men and women responded to the new realities of the trade. Further, new rhetoric based around the support of women and children arose as a useful diplomatic tool for both sides as they struggled to control the new moral economy of frontier exchange. Arising as a companion to trade, intermarriage (the subject of chapter 5) substantially shaped Anglo-Indian relations, but with sometimes ambiguous results. While happy unions could advance diplomacy and solidify alliances, mistreatment of Indian women could cause serious tensions between white and Indian societies, with potentially violent consequences. Although a fre- quent topic of discussion and of British eff orts at regulation, trader abuses of native women and violations of sexual and familial norms continued to desta- bilize relations throughout the colonial period.

In 1717, Chief Brim of Coweta, a leading Ochese town, decided to reestab- lish ties with the British in the wake of the Yamasee War. In his town, there were strong pro-Spanish and pro-British factions. Brim was convinced that Introduction 13 the best way to preserve the security and prosperity of his town was to main- tain alliances with both. From this time on, he embarked on a policy of neu- trality, playing one side against the other. In order to fi rmly establish the peace with the British, he arranged a marriage between his niece Coosaponakeesa (whom the British knew as Mary) and Colonel John Musgrove’s half- Creek son Johnny. Th e wedding, along with an exchange of presents, solidifi ed the alliance between the British and the Coweta, to the great frustration of the Spanish. For Brim and the Creek, the union was “the critical episode that ef- fectively bound the groups together according to the rules of kinship reciproc- ity.”³⁴ A confl ict that had begun at least in part because of news carried by a woman ended with the restoration of peace eff ected by a woman. Johnny and Mary Musgrove (and after Johnny’s death, Mary alone) would be crucial inter- mediaries between Coweta and the British, fi rst in South Carolina and then in Georgia, for decades to come. Mary Musgrove was an unusual woman. Many other women, less visible in the records and therefore less known to posterity, also played important roles in intercultural contact. Th ey served as translators, messengers, and providers of hospitality and, in their roles as wives, gave white men access to Indian kin- ship systems. Th ey traveled with diplomatic delegations and shaped political decisions. Men had little choice but to reckon with their presence. Male lead- ers also defi ned their own social roles in relation to women, and these defi ni- tions became important when they interacted with men of diff erent cultures. Overlapping male worlds of warfare, diplomacy, and trade brought men to- gether in ways that confronted each with the gendered notions of the other. Discussions of gender ideals and of the appropriate roles men and women should play in society received a considerable amount of attention from white and Indian leaders alike. Th e frequency with which they talked about these is- sues indicates the importance that both sides placed on such matters, as does the concern clerks or other offi cials displayed in writing these conversations down. Th e often- emotional nature of the rhetoric that emerged highlights how deeply notions of gender and family were rooted in each society and therefore how critical they were to any relationship that would emerge. No system of di- plomacy could have functioned long without reference to these concepts. Out of eff orts to reconcile diff erent gender ideologies and practices emerged a func- tioning set of cross- cultural ceremonies and tropes that characterized Anglo- Indian relations for decades.

1  A “Friend” and a “Brother” gender, family, and diplomacy

ormal diplomatic meetings, often held in the colonial capitals or less Foften in leading native villages, provided the forum for British and south- eastern Indian leaders to seek to manage their relationships and resolve dis- agreements. Here, offi cials and headmen developed and negotiated the complex ceremonial norms and rhetorical language that came to characterize Anglo- Indian relations. Although wars often gain greater attention because of their drama and high cost, in both economic and human terms, in reality periods of peace were of much longer duration. Peacetime therefore off ered more sub- stantial opportunities for the creation of functioning diplomatic rhetoric. Al- though the fi rst several decades of settlement were characterized by regular hos- tilities between the English and their most immediate neighbors (the Cusabo, Westo, Savannah, Tuscarora, and Yamasee), even during this turbulent era long stretches of relative peace were punctuated by short bursts of deadly confl ict. After the Yamasee War, cooperation rather than fi ghting was the norm, with only one major war (the so-called Cherokee War of 1759–61) erupting before the Revolution. In general, these long periods of truce allowed the British to secure a foothold in the region and eventually to expand. It also allowed those Indian groups that succeeded in avoiding extended confl ict—especially those inland groups that were distant enough to postpone major encroachments on their land—to adapt to interactions with Europeans. Diplomacy during these years became a key avenue for maintaining the relationships necessary to avoid war and ensure trade. In this context, then, cross- cultural conversations took on increasing importance, as they became avenues for negotiating and maintain- ing the peace. Over the course of more than a century, British offi cials and native head- men worked (sometimes together, sometimes at cross-purposes) to establish the new set of diplomatic forms and rhetorical language that would govern 16 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy intercultural relations. Formal meetings show very clearly the eff ort to fi nd or create a common ground based on assumed similarities, particularly with re- gard to notions of gender. For the most part, the world of southeastern diplo- macy emerged as one of homosocial interactions between leading men, who conducted most of the formal negotiations and concluded treaties. As a result, a distinctly male-oriented gendered rhetoric evolved that established kinship relations (primarily those of brothers) between colonial and native leaders.¹ Th is language also, however, relied upon relationships with women, particu- larly for headmen, who reckoned all family connections in the context of matri- lineal inheritance. Each side brought its own ideas of family and gender rela- tions to the negotiations. Th e two then understood commonly used metaphors diff erently, allowing each culture to see the relationship in ways that conformed to its own suppositions. Th ese kinds of “creative misunderstandings” allowed for the maintenance of peaceful relations for long periods of time.² Yet despite all eff orts, miscommunications could also undermine the negotiations when one side failed to live up to the other’s expectations.³ Although women did not often participate in the creation of diplomatic rhetoric, they played a far more crucial role in diplomacy than is often rec- ognized. Women were present at most diplomatic meetings and performed a number of diff erent functions that were necessary to the furtherance of peace- ful relations. Women’s contributions to hospitality, as well as their infl uence on behind-the- scenes negotiations, helped shape the diplomatic landscape of the colonial Southeast. In informal diplomacy, women took part more directly, often carrying messages and establishing contacts. Further, women regularly fi gured as topics of conversation among men, making their presence in the region impossible to disregard. Tracing the evolution of diplomatic forms and rhetoric is complicated by the paucity of records surviving from the fi rst several decades of contact. Doc- umentation of formal meetings (either in Indian or English towns) is at best fragmentary and often nonexistent. Yet during these years, the basic frame- work for conducting negotiations was established. Th e Yamasee War did much to convince British offi cials of the importance of paying attention to diplomatic protocols. By the 1720s, the British began to keep better records of Indian af- fairs, although full transcriptions of diplomatic talks were still rare.⁴ In the 1740s and 1750s, clerks produced much more detailed accounts of their con- ferences with Indian headmen, taking care to capture as much of the speeches and negotiations as possible.⁵ In these longer narrations of diplomatic confer- Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 17 ences, an already- developed language of metaphor and set of ceremonies ap- pears, created piecemeal over the preceding decades. Mid-eighteenth century conferences reveal an elaboration of preexisting metaphors, as well as a contes- tation of the meaning of fi ctive kinship relations. Overall, however, the rhetoric remained fairly stable throughout the middle part of the century. Th e Revo- lution, though, would force Americans to renegotiate the meaning of the meta- phors they used.

“They Plac’d Our Englishmen Near the King”: Establishing Diplomatic Forms

In 1666, Robert Sandford, coming ashore on the Carolina coast, received an in- vitation from the “king” of Edisto to visit his town. When Sandford sent four of his men in his stead, the king did not receive them, but rather, Sandford noted, “his state was supplyed by a Female, who received them with gladnes and Courtesy, placeing my Lt. Harvey on the seat by her.” Th e next day Sand- ford went to visit the town himself and was conducted to the “generall house of State.” Th ere he found the “Cassique,” who sat on a “high seate” with “his wife on his right hand (shee who had received those whome I had sent the eve- ning before).” Sandford was invited to sit with the chief. Around the rest of the house “the whole rabble of men, Women and children” sat on low benches. Th e Edisto presented him with a gift of deerskins and ceremoniously wel- comed the English “by stroaking our shoulders with their palmes and sucking in theire breath the whilst” before commencing an honorary ball game.⁶ Eff orts at diplomacy marked the fi rst meetings between English travelers and coastal Indians in the Carolina region. In the beginning, native rules dom- inated these encounters, and native towns supplied the forum. Here many of the basic ground rules were laid. Gift giving, feasting, dancing or gaming, and speechmaking generally marked native diplomatic rituals and in one form or another would make their way into the later format of formal meetings. Th e English contributed their own rituals and sought to fi nd ways to awe natives who visited their new settlements. Over time, a hybrid set of ceremonies devel- oped, building on and emphasizing commonalities but also requiring adapta- tion and negotiation. Further, the gendered division of labor in diplomacy also became evident in these early meetings in ways that would be reproduced, al- beit in modifi ed form, throughout the era. Among southeastern societies, men usually (but not always) fi lled the roles 18 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy of political leaders and diplomats. Early travelers identifi ed the chiefs, or “cas- siques,” of each town they visited, most of whom were men. Although head- men were not distinguished by their clothing or by other signs of material prosperity in the way that Englishmen might have expected, chiefs were ac- corded special respect in council meetings (often signifi ed through seating ar- rangements in town houses, as in the case of Sandford’s host).⁷ Welcoming cer- emonies formalized the relative status of the leading men. John Lawson noted that “When an English- Man comes amongst them . . . fi rst, the King bids him Welcome, after him the War- Captain, so on gradually from High to Low; not one of all these speaking to the White Guest, till his Superiour has ended his Salutation.”⁸ At times, women might participate in such greeting rituals. In 1733, when General Oglethorpe and his party fi rst landed in Georgia, he found a friendly group there to meet him. Having entertained the general with danc- ing, “the King & all the men came in regular manner & Shook him by the hand: after that the Queen came and all the Women did the like.”⁹ Th e reason for the distinctly gendered nature of this reception is not clear. Th e British assumed that it refl ected male leadership in diplomacy, which it very well may have. On the other hand, it may have refl ected diff erent male and female functions in hospitality and negotiations.¹⁰ Overall, however, the ceremonial marking of sta- tus distinctions struck a chord among hierarchical- minded Englishmen, who found in such rituals much that seemed familiar. Men also dominated in the role of diplomat to foreign nations. John Lederer noted the reception of “a Rickohockan [Westo] Ambassadour” in the town of “Akenatzy” (Occaneechi). Th e emissary was accompanied by fi ve others, whose “faces were coloured with Auripigmentum,” indicating most likely that they were warriors. Th e incident caught Lederer’s special attention because in the midst of the festivities, “for what cause I know not,” wrote Lederer, “the Rickohockan and his Retinue [were] barbarously murthered.”¹¹ Nearly forty years later, John Lawson witnessed the arrival of a Saponi “Ambassador” in a Waxsaw village, “painted with Vermillion all over his Face, having a very large Cutlass stuck in his Girdle, and a Fusee in his Hand.”¹² Th e task of speaking in such formal meetings usually fell to men. South- eastern societies placed a great emphasis on men’s speaking abilities, and el- oquence was a signal marker of manhood.¹³ Sojourners were often suitably impressed. In 1670, Lederer reported: “I have been present at several of their Consultations and Debates, and to my admiration have heard some of their Seniors deliver themselves with as much Judgement and Eloquence as I should Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 19 have expected from men of Civil education and Literature.”¹⁴ Lederer’s limited understanding of the language, however, prevented him from fully capturing the content of these speeches, and the nature of the rhetoric employed unfor- tunately went unrecorded. Th e fact that men in both European and native societies took the lead in diplomatic encounters facilitated diplomacy and provided a shared set of as- sumptions on which they could build. In most cases, men conducted the pri- mary negotiations of European diplomacy (although a few “queens” did pre- side), and most travelers and later colonial agents who visited native towns were male.¹⁵ Most offi cial meetings involved discussions between high-status men from each party, who would give speeches, conclude agreements, and ex- change gifts. Although other members of the community, including women and children, were often present and played important roles in hospitality ritu- als and welcoming ceremonies, the processes of speaking and actively negoti- ating were usually conducted by men. Although spoken much later, the words of Oakchoy (Creek) headman Gun Merchant in 1756 highlight this similarity: “I look upon it to be the Custom of this Province that at any Public Occasion when Public Business is to be transacted the Governor of this Province con- sults and advises with his beloved men likewise, and as this is the Custom of our Nation, I take care to advise with & be instructed by all the Headmen.”¹⁶ Th e public leadership of men in both cultures was noticeable, and such overlap provided a starting point in creating a working, shared diplomatic protocol that would be acceptable to both sides. Although men took the lead in negotiating treaties or making addresses, na- tive women also fi gured prominently in formal diplomacy, particularly in those meetings that occurred in native towns as opposed to those held in British venues. In their own villages, women were generally present in the town house for festivities surrounding the reception of foreign ambassadors, as Sandford observed among the Edisto. Th ey further played a crucial role in hospitality, often receiving visiting dignitaries and providing food and housing. John Law- son, in his travels through North Carolina, was often graciously welcomed by native women when he arrived in their towns. At the Congarees, he reported, “the Queen [was] very kind, giving us what Rarities her Cabin aff orded, as Loblolly made with Indian Corn, and dry’d Peaches.”¹⁷ In fact, at the Waxsaw chief ’s house there was “a Woman employ’d in no other Business than Cook- ery; it being a House of great Resort.”¹⁸ Th e responsibility of hospitality fell to those high-status women related in some way to the chief of the town and 20 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy who lived in his household. Women also took part in festivals welcoming vis- iting “ambassadors” from diff erent nations. Lawson noted that the Waxsaw treated the Saponi ambassador to a feast and then dancing in which both men and women participated.¹⁹ Women’s involvement in diplomacy within native towns themselves does not appear to have altered much over the course of the eighteenth century. Later observers continued to note the importance of hos- pitality, especially in the form of feasting. In 1775, Bernard Romans noted that among the Creek, visitors were always well received. Th e male host generally off ered guests a pipe while “the good women [were] employed to prepare a dish of venison and homany.”²⁰ Women also often supplied sexual favors to visiting dignitaries, a custom that worked together with other practices of hospitality to create and solidify bonds between villagers and outsiders. In 1664, the Barbadian explorer Cap- tain William Hilton met a group of friendly Indians along the coast near Port Royal and was astonished that “for a further testimony of their love and good will towards us, they presented to us two very handsom proper young Indian women . . . which we supposed to be the Kings Daughters, or persons of some great account amongst them.” Far from being fearful of the newcomers, “Th ese young women were ready to come into our Boat; one of them crouding in, was hardly perswaded to go out again.”²¹ Such rituals are sometimes diffi cult to separate from native practices of incorporating outsiders by marriage (dis- cussed at greater length in chapter 5). In general, though, such liaisons were in- tended to be temporary but were off ered as a sign of goodwill and welcome.²² Th e role that women played in diplomatic meetings outside of their own villages is less clear. Th e earliest narratives, like Lederer’s, do not indicate the presence of women in the parties of the “ambassadors.” Th ese accounts are so brief, though, that forming an accurate picture of Indian diplomacy is ex- tremely diffi cult. Earlier explorers from the Roanoke expedition observed that women visited the English visitors in the early days of that colony.²³ By the fi rst decade of the eighteenth century, Th omas Nairne noted that women often ac- companied traveling parties.²⁴ Later accounts frequently mention the inclusion of women and sometimes even children in some delegations, especially those making the longer journey down to Charles Town. Although women did not often serve as chiefs, some coastal tribes in the seventeenth century had female leaders. In 1675 the Cusabo sold a large portion of their land to Carolina. Th e deed was signed by twenty- nine Indians, includ- ing a number of “women captains.”²⁵ Other early land records contain copies of Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 21 deeds signed by the “queens” of Edisto and St. Helena in 1682 and 1684.²⁶ On the other hand, in the eighteenth century the larger inland tribes with which the British dealt most extensively did not have female heads.²⁷ Th omas Nairne noted that among the Chickasaw, a woman could never succeed as chief.²⁸ Wil- liam Bartram claimed that among the Creek, women were not even admitted to council meetings.²⁹ Th e Cherokee were the exception, admitting a few “war- women” into their “assemblies.”³⁰ It is not clear why coastal tribes had female leaders in the late seventeenth century, while the larger inland tribes by the eighteenth century did not. Women in the coastal region may well have had a greater amount of authority than that enjoyed by women in other tribes in the Southeast.³¹ Or women may have achieved the position as chief because of the decimation of these tribes and the consequent disruption of their inheri- tance and leadership structures. What is clear is that women from the larger inland tribes did not sign treaties or land conveyances during the eighteenth century, although they may have played a role in such decisions behind the scenes. Not until the early nineteenth century do women from these groups seem to have taken a public role opposing land sales. In 1817, sent a message to the Cherokee council objecting to the loss of more territory. “Your mothers your sisters,” she told the assembled headmen, “ask and beg of you not to part with any more of our lands.” She reminded the headmen of the nation’s ties to the land and the consequences of its loss and of their obligations to the female members of their clans. Because pre- Revolutionary land sales more often involved hunting territories rather than agricultural land, women may have found less to concern them in these transactions. By the early national pe- riod, however, the loss of planting ground had begun to seriously aff ect wom- en’s lives, spurring Ward’s warning to the chiefs.³² Pressure from the British does not off er a satisfactory explanation for the absence of female chiefs in the eighteenth century. Th e British exhibited no signs of trying to force native women out of positions of supreme authority; on the contrary, they were very willing to work with infl uential women when it suited their purposes. In Virginia, in fact, the English tried in 1667 to give authority over several independent tribes to Cockacoeske, the queen (wero- ansqua) of Pamunkey, because of her generally friendly stance toward the En- glish.³³ As the English had several queens between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries, the presence of the occasional woman in a supreme position did not concern them much. In the case of the seventeenth century land grants, offi cials were primarily concerned about getting treaties signed and did not care who 22 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy put their marks on the paper. In one unique instance, a Carolina trader made a point of telling the natives that Britain also had a queen. In 1713, Pryce Hughes told the Cherokee that the British “were governd by a Woman, & that greater successes for the most part attended that Sex than the other.”³⁴ In this case, far from attempting to exclude native women from diplomacy, Hughes strongly spoke in favor the eff ectiveness of female leadership. Many early meetings, of necessity, occurred in native towns, as explorers or agents sought out native allies and tried to establish trading relationships. Soon, however, Carolina offi cials would begin to receive native headmen in Charles Town. Unfortunately, little is known of the format of these early meet- ings, nor of the makeup of the delegations sent by native towns. By the early decades of the eighteenth century, however, a hybrid form of diplomacy that included British and native rituals emerged. British leaders provided gifts and hospitality (although notably not the sexual favors off ered by Indian hosts) to visiting headmen. Ceremonies included symbolic markers of esteem recogniz- able to all sides. In 1717, for example, two Creek headmen met with Governor Robert Johnson in the Carolina capitol. Th e men had brought a letter and were entrusted with another one to carry home. Johnson supplied them with am- munition and provisions and gave the “king” a coat and hat. Th e men were then escorted aboard a ship in the harbor, which honored them with a three- gun salute.³⁵ A few years later, Governor Francis Nicholson and the South Caro- lina Council smoked the calumet with a visiting group of Cherokee headmen. Th e Indians performed a “war dance,” and the governor gave them pictures of the royal family.³⁶ Th e ceremonies refl ected the military (and inherently mas- culine) nature of the alliances, focused as they were on martial honor. Formal talks followed the initial ceremonies and often lasted for several days while both the British governors and the Indian headmen made speeches and negotiated and signed treaties. During this time, the Indians would be housed in or near the town, usually in the homes or outbuildings of comfortable residents who would be reimbursed for their expenditures. Once the meetings concluded, the governor would distribute presents to the Indians in attendance, hoping that the guests would return home contented and therefore more inclined to keep the agreements concluded during the conference. Th ese early meetings played a crucial role in maintaining relations between the British and their native allies and in establishing the protocols that both would follow for the remainder of the eighteenth century. Male leadership and male speechmaking would continue to dominate in formal meetings, resulting Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 23 in the development of a distinctly masculine rhetoric that came to character- ize Anglo-Indian interactions. Nevertheless, women would continue to play critical roles in diplomacy, roles that emerged with increasing clarity by mid- century.

“We Look on Ourselves as Born of One Woman”: Gendered and Family Metaphors in Diplomacy

In January of 1756, Gun Merchant, chief of the Creek town of Oakchoy, along with sixty other headmen and warriors, arrived in Charles Town to meet with Governor James Glen of South Carolina. Th e talks that followed over the next several days included assurances of friendship on both sides. Like many other diplomatic conferences of the eighteenth century, this meeting was replete with metaphors intended to explain the relationship between the British and their native allies. Gun Merchant noted that “the white People call us Broth- ers, we look on ourselves as born of one Woman, therefore nothing can ever occasion any misunderstanding or diff erence to alienate our Aff ections from the English.” Glen responded with his own metaphors. “You called him [King George] Father, Head, and King of all,” he summarized (Gun Merchant had not). “When you spoke of the English You called them Brothers, and declared your friendship for them” (he had). Heads of a subsequent treaty to come out of the meeting combined the two sides’ understanding of the relationship. Th e treaty recognized the king of England as the father of the Creek people and declared that the Creek and British would live as brothers, as if “they had been born of the same woman and sucked the same Breast.”³⁷ Th is meeting demon- strates the prevalence of family metaphors in Anglo-Indian diplomacy, as well as the misunderstandings that occurred in the use of those metaphors. Family relationships served as fundamental building blocks of both Euro- pean and Indian society and provided much of the explanatory power for exist- ing political forms in those societies. Th eir application to diplomatic relation- ships therefore appeared natural, and both sides regularly resorted to them. Both appear to have assumed that kinship metaphors represented certain uni- versal conceptions of position, relationship, and power. Th e metaphors that dominated southeastern diplomacy, based on fraternal relationships, both fa- cilitated and complicated the matter. Such terminology fi tted neatly with the male- dominated world of foreign relations for each group. Both believed that the fi ctive kinship terms they used carried with them real obligations. Yet nei- 24 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy ther group shared the same ideas of family structure or the meaning of kin- ship relations. While the British viewed these metaphors through the lens of the patriarchal family, native people based their use of diplomatic rhetoric on a matrilineal system of inheritance. Th erefore, neither fully understood the meaning the other intended to convey. Th ese diff erences could have signifi - cant consequences, because metaphoric kin relations were more than just la- bels. Fictive kin ties brought with them reciprocal rights and duties. Yet Euro- peans and Indians did not always share the same understanding of what these expectations were. As long as they could ignore or gloss over such diff erences, the system could function reasonably well. However, in times of confl ict, the inconsistency in the meanings that each attributed to fraternal terminology became more apparent, often highlighting more substantial diff erences in how each side viewed the relationship. European philosophy had long employed the metaphor of the king as the father of his people. His subjects, cast as children, were expected to submit to his authority and obey his dictates. He in return had the obligation to provide them with paternal care and guidance. For several centuries, the formal cate- chism of the Church of England expanded the duty to honor one’s father and mother to include obedience to the king and magistrates. Although patriarchal language was gradually being replaced by more contractual notions of govern- ment, especially by the eighteenth century, the analogy still held considerable salience for many Britons. Furthermore, the patriarchal family itself consti- tuted a fundamental building block of governance. Fathers exercised authority over wives, children, and other dependents. Th e power of the household head was strengthened in the colonies, in part because of the weakness of other in- stitutions and in part because of the prevalence of servitude and slavery.³⁸ In contrast to such notions, most southeastern tribes used metaphors that refl ected native practices of matrilineal inheritance. In regional native cosmol- ogy, there were two types of people: kin and enemies. Th erefore, fi ctive kin ties were essential for establishing diplomatic relationships.³⁹ In general usage, kin- ship terminology described the relationship of one town to another. Th e oldest towns in any Indian nation received the title of mother towns, while other vil- lages called one another “grandfather, “uncle,” or more commonly “elder brother” or “younger brother,” denoting relations of seniority and precedence. Such terms might also be employed to describe the relationships between nations. Th e Chickasaw referred to the Creek as their “Youngest Brothers.”⁴⁰ Fraternal metaphors came to dominate the rhetoric of eighteenth-century Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 25 diplomacy. Although the language of brotherhood was less common in Eu- ro pean diplomacy, the British adopted the native metaphor. As early as 1725, Colonel George Chicken, South Carolina’s agent to the , noted that the Cherokee referred to the British as their “Eldest brothers” because “what goods they have among them is made by the English and that they are Sup- plied with Impliments of Warr from them.”⁴¹ Th e metaphor was clearly native in origin, but Chicken was willing to see the British take on the role of “Eldest brothers.”⁴² He promised that he would try to ensure continued good relations, assuring the Cherokee that the British had “always Esteemed you as our Broth- ers.”⁴³ Early French observers recorded a language of brotherhood, at least on the part of the natives, at around this time. Th e Choctaw indicated that they regarded the French “as our brothers.”⁴⁴ Although both sides at times simply recognized one another as brothers, at other times the metaphors employed were more specifi c, designating one party as elder and the other as younger. Such distinctions were important for native societies because they determined weight in the relationship. In native families, the elder brother was accorded respect and had the moral authority to advise the younger, although he lacked coercive power. Th e elder also had the responsibility to provide for the younger. Such notions were extended to the realm of diplomacy. “According to these relations,” the South Carolina Indian agent Th omas Nairne noted, “they’le give the Chiefs of these Villages respect and precidency in their Town houses.”⁴⁵ Th ose individuals of higher status or greater seniority in native society always spoke fi rst in councils and in diplo- matic meetings. In 1745, the Cherokee “emperor” Ammonscossittee declined to begin a formal talk in Charles Town by delivering his message fi rst. Instead, he told the governor, “You Sir, are our eldest Brother,” at which point the gover- nor realized that “they desired to hear me fi rst.”⁴⁶ Ammonscossittee, in adopt- ing such a position, ensured that proper protocols were observed, as well as po- litely conveying his respect for the British governor. Southeastern Indians most often designated the British as “elder brother” in diplomatic meetings. In 1751, Kanagatoga (known to the British as Old Hopp) of the Cherokee mother town of Chote in the Overhills region recalled the talk he and several other headmen had held with the British king during their visit to London in 1730. “[H]e remembers,” he told Governor Glen, “that the Great King told his Excellency [the governor] that these People [the Cherokee] were his younger Brothers, and to be careful of them as such.”⁴⁷ In allowing the Brit- ish the position of primacy in the relationship, Kanagatoga likely recognized 26 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy British military superiority as well as Cherokee dependence on trade.⁴⁸ Th e Cherokee statements to Chicken, above, also emphasized Cherokee need for the manufactures supplied by their “eldest brothers.” Europeans were initially unfamiliar with the practice of considering allies as brothers. Th e French generally ignored the metaphor, replacing it with their own patriarchal one. Patricia Galloway has argued that “the French colonial governors, conditioned by their own patrilineally biased society . . . adopted the metaphorical position of ‘father’ to the .” Th e result was prob- ably not what the French had intended, however, and the potential for mis- understandings is particularly clear. Once the French assumed the position of father, “the Choctaws then proceeded to treat them as their matrilineal society taught them they should: as kind, indulgent nonrelatives who had no author- ity over them.”⁴⁹ Fathers, however, were expected to provide well for their chil- dren, leading to an expectation that the French as fathers would supply gifts and other material signs of aff ection. Th e British, on the other hand, more often adopted the native concept of brotherhood, although they soon fi tted it into their own conceptions of kin- ship relations. Th ey were willing to designate Indian nations as brothers to the new colonies but only after defi ning the British king as the father of both. According to European notions, this move gave the king the power to com- mand obedience from his fi ctive children, the Indians, while placing obliga- tions on him to protect and guide them. In 1730, formal Articles of Friendship drawn up between the Carolina Proprietors and Cherokee delegates in En- gland specifi ed their lordships’ wish that “the Indians and the English may live together as the Children of one Family, whereof the Great King is a kind and loving Father.” Th e Cherokee became children of King George and brothers of the British living in South Carolina, a combination of English and native metaphors. For the British, this metaphor formalized their own assumptions of sovereignty over the . As part of the ceremonies attending the signing of the treaties, the Cherokee had laid the “crown” of their nation at the king’s feet, which the British believed was “in Token of [their] Obedience.” Th e specifi cs of the treaty emphasized Cherokee obligation and subordina- tion. Th e Cherokee would be expected to join in any confl ict against Britain’s enemies, would only trade with British traders, and would return any runaway slaves. Th e agreement further stipulated that disputes between the Cherokee and settlers would be settled according to British law.⁵⁰ Exactly how members of southeastern nations interpreted the meaning of Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 27 the metaphor of “father” is unclear. One signifi cant problem in pinning down native views centers on problems of translation and European misunderstand- ings of Indian kinship systems. Did Indians understand the European concept of father as referring to “father” or “maternal uncle”? Th e meanings would have been vastly diff erent. Confused British observers often mistook a man’s neph- ews for his sons, therefore mixing up the uncle-nephew and the father-son re- lationships. Th e British often referred to Malatchi, a Coweta (Lower Creek) chief, as the “son” of Old Brim, also a Coweta headman. However, Malatchi could not have inherited Brim’s position as chief if he had been Brim’s son be- cause descent proceeded, not to a man’s son, but to his sister’s son. Malatchi therefore must have been Brim’s nephew, not his son.⁵¹ If offi cials consistently used the term father in such instances (and clerks wrote it down as such) but interpreters inserted the word uncle instead, the metaphor of father might well have been understood as maternal uncle. In this context, the natives’ under- standing of the king’s role might well have been more authoritative than the term father might lead one to expect. Native speakers sometimes borrowed the metaphor of “father” and applied it to the British (usually to the king, but sometimes also in reference to colonial governors). In doing so, they clarifi ed their own understanding of the role that they thought the British as “father” should play. Far from acknowledging the authority of the king, instead natives emphasized his responsibility to supply and care for them. In 1755, Kanagatoga wanted Governor Glen to “acquaint the King, their Father, that there was Little or Nothing, that they could make” and that “Th ey therefore hoped, that He would pity the Condition of His Chil- dren, and send them arms & ammunition to defend them against His & their Enemies.”⁵² Savvy Indian leaders could turn the very metaphors Europeans used against them to shame them into changing their policies. In 1763, Mortar, a Creek headman, complained (via the Georgia clerk) that “we [the British] call them our Brothers, and the French call them their Children, and we tell them to kill French, and French tell them to kill us, but he thinks it a bad Talk from Fathers and Brothers to tell them to handle sharp Weapons as they will be apt to cut themselves.”⁵³ By adopting the position of “children,” however, Indians were not without some obligations in the relationship. Although not bound to obey, children were expected to love and show loyalty toward the father. Ke- owee (Cherokee) headman Wawhatchee promised his assistance to the British during the French and Indian War, explaining that “it would be an unnatural thing for children to see their father knocked on the Head.”⁵⁴ 28 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy While the term father may have been of limited utility, the term brother cre- ated more recognizable relationships for southeastern Indians and therefore brought with it much clearer expectations and responsibilities. Native head- men in Charles Town or Savannah often explained the obligations placed on brothers, especially older brothers, to their British allies. Gun Merchant ad- dressed Governor Glen in 1756, asking for a reduction in trade prices for his nation. “I have been told,” he said, “that the Great King over the Water consid- ers himself and You as his Representative, and me the Headman of the Creek Nation as three Brothers. Th erefore, no favour that any of us asks of the other should be refused.”⁵⁵ Standing Turkey, a Cherokee headman from the town of Chote, explained that “wee call you the Elder Brother, & it is the Duty of the Elder to clothe the younger.”⁵⁶ Th e party in the position of elder brother might also have the ability to advise, although the younger brother was by no means obligated to obey. In 1765, Captain Alleck, chief of the town, vis- ited Pensacola. Addressing Governor George Johnstone of East Florida, Alleck informed him that he looked upon him as his “Elder Brother,” adding that he should “allways be happy to receive Instructions from him, whereby I may be set to Rights When I err.”⁵⁷ Further, brothers, both elder and younger, had an obligation to defend one another. When the Choctaw proclaimed their friend- ship to the French, they declared that “every time you have asked us to take vengeance on your enemies who have insulted you, . . . we, regarding you as our brothers, have left our wives, children, houses, villages, harvests, and periods of hunting to attack your enemies and stain our arms with their blood.”⁵⁸ For the British, designations of elder and younger also had meaning, but one that was somewhat diff erent from that envisioned by natives. Partible in- heritance, rather than primogeniture, was generally the rule in the colonies. Eldest sons might still receive a greater share of an estate, however, and older notions of the primacy of the elder over the younger might still prevail.⁵⁹ Al- though less authoritative than “father,” the party in the role of “elder brother” could still expect respect and some deference. Th e British likely fi tted this metaphor into their own hierarchical understanding of family organization.⁶⁰ Most of the metaphors used for diplomacy, those of “father” and “brother,” described male relationships.⁶¹ In native society, however, men’s connections to one another were reckoned through the female line. Consequently, native leaders framed their understanding of fi ctive kin ties according to a matrilineal system of inheritance. While the meaning of “father” may have been uncertain, that of “mother” was relatively clear. Th erefore, whereas the British considered Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 29 colonists and Indians to be fi ctive “brothers” because they shared one common father, the king, native leaders maintained that they were brothers who shared the same mother. In 1755, Kanagatoga informed Governor Glen that the Cher- okee “would always love the English as Brothers that sucked one Mother.”⁶² By gendering the metaphors they used to fi t into their own understanding of family, natives gave added meaning and weight to the relationships. Although brothers who shared the same father might not be considered kin in native so- ciety, those who shared ties to the same mother were members of the same clan. By linking themselves to the British according to the terms of matrilineal kinship, the Indians declared that they recognized these metaphorical kinship relations as binding and salient. In 1756, Gun Merchant explained the weight of the ties of matrilineal clan membership: “Th at as the white People call us Brothers, we look on ourselves as born of one Woman, therefore nothing can ever occasion any misunderstanding or diff erence to alienate our Aff ections from the English.”⁶³ In consequence, he would “deny them nothing they can ask.”⁶⁴ King Hagler of the Catawbas went even farther, indicating that he and his people would “die by the white People, that they [were] the same as if they had all come out of one Belly.”⁶⁵ As the eighteenth century progressed, some British offi cials, especially those most familiar with the Indian nations, picked up on native uses of fam- ily metaphors and turned them to their own purposes. Especially in times of crisis when the allegiance or neutrality of southeastern tribes was especially desirable, British diplomats found that drawing upon Indian understandings of kinship could grease the political wheels. In the years following the French and Indian War, British and later American offi cials adopted the metaphor of mother in their dealings with natives. In 1765, in an eff ort to win over Choc- taw chiefs (who were still adjusting to the loss of their French allies, but who also could potentially turn to the Spanish in New Orleans) Superintendent John Stuart informed a delegation of Choctaw and Chickasaw chiefs that the British king desired the colonists and the Indians to “Esteem one another like Brothers of the Same Mother,” observing, “Being near one another you will have frequent opportunities of performing Acts of Brotherly Love & Mutu- ally assisting each other by Relieving one anothers Wants.”⁶⁶ Th e British car- ried the metaphor a step further during the American Revolution in an ef- fort to win Creek support against the rebels. Governor Patrick Tonyn of East Florida informed the chiefs that the British loved the Indians like a mother loved “the Child hugging the Nipple” but warned that the Americans would 30 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy destroy them.⁶⁷ No longer emphasizing the king as father, Tonyn instead cast the British nation itself as mother, nurturing and loving, rather than authori- tarian and commanding. For Patriot leaders the coming of the Revolution necessitated the creation of new metaphors that accommodated their newly independent status. Th e Americans had cast off their allegiance to their “father,” King George III, and so any terminology that emphasized links to a common father became prob- lematic. Th e crisis then forced the Americans to off er a modifi ed rhetoric, one that relied on native notions of kinship. Although the rebels could conceivably have installed Patriot leaders as father (and would later do so with the person of the president), at this time they instead persisted in the use of the fraternal metaphor, reworking the Indian idea of ties to one mother in a striking new way. Addressing the Upper and Lower Creek at Ogeechee in 1778, longtime trader George Galphin asked the Creek to forsake their alliance with Britain. “[W]e look [on you] as our Brothers,” he told the assembled headmen. Further, he added:

We are all Children of one Mother, this Ground is our Common Mother and we [ought to] love one another like Brothers that have sucked the same Breast. Th e great Master of Breath looks on us as Children that have been raised on one Woman’s Milk, for this Ground, as I said before, is our common Mother, and we ought to love one another like Brothers, and your and our Men and Warriors are all made strong from the Corn and other Th ings that grow from this Land, therefore it is a pitty that we should go to War with one another.

Th e British, Galphin informed the chiefs, only intended to make America’s white men into slaves, and they gave good talks to the Creek only “to buy your Blood.” “When a red or White American falls in War,” he concluded, “our com- mon Mother looses a Child, and our common Enemy is glad of it, for they are desirous to enslave or kill us all white and red.”⁶⁸ By adopting this meta- phor, Galphin attempted to illustrate the common interests of Americans and Indians. Ultimately, he hoped to win the Indians over to a position of neutral- ity, if not outright support of the American war eff ort. In the end, however, such arguments could not outweigh Creek experience with their American- born white “brothers,” and the United States failed to win their allegiance. Over the course of the eighteenth century, British and native speakers de- Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 31 veloped and elaborated a rhetoric of fi ctive brotherhood that came to defi ne their relationship. Each side tried to model the metaphors they used on their own notions of family relationships in order to place obligations on their allies, while tacitly acknowledging some obligations of their own. Both manipulated the common language in order to advance their own political agendas. Native leaders emphasized the obligation of support placed upon a father or elder brother when demanding goods or at least better trade terms. British offi cials hoped to use native dependency and acknowledgment of British “seniority” to pressure the Indians into obedience. Th e degree to which British and native leaders understood the meanings the other attached to such language is un- clear. Native leaders might borrow the British use of the term “father,” but they did so in a way that reduced paternal authority while emphasizing generosity. Th e British adopted the terminology of brotherhood but reframed it to fi t into a patriarchal worldview. Not until the era of the French and Indian War did the British begin to comprehend and borrow matrilineal language to describe their relationships to their native neighbors.

The “Beloved Women . . . Sent Some White Beads”: Women and Diplomacy

On September 5, 1749, a small delegation of Catawba Indians arrived in Charles Town to discuss a general peace treaty with Governor Glen and the South Carolina Council. Th e party included a number of headmen, each listed in the council records by name, as well as twenty- one young men, ten women, and two “small Children.” Th e same day, a delegation arrived from the Chero- kee nation, composed of “in all 70 Men & 3 Women.”⁶⁹ Th ese two instances were typical. While in native society men had the authority to make speeches and enter into negotiations, women accompanied delegations and served as important members of traveling parties. Th e high visibility of male ambassadors, along with male dominance of formal rhetoric, makes it easy to overlook the key role that women continued to play in diplomacy in the eighteenth century. Scholars who have looked at women’s involvement at conferences and talks have tended to focus on high- profi le women who took on an unusually prominent role, like the Cherokee war woman Nan-ye- hi (Nancy Ward) and Creek “princess” Coosaponakeesa (Mary Musgrove Matthews Bosomworth). Th is focus on the small number of exceptional female leaders, however, obscures the much more common ways 32 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy in which women exercised infl uence.⁷⁰ Historians need to beware of imposing modern, Western ideas of political power (which often focus on “great” men and women) on native societies. Authority in Indian society was diff use, and a great deal of control rested with the individual clans. High- status women ex- ercised infl uence through their roles in their families and were often able to af- fect village policy by exerting pressure within kinship systems. Th ose women who accompanied delegations to Charles Town or Savannah deserve more at- tention because the part they played was often far more important than schol- ars have realized. Women doubtless found it more diffi cult to assert their infl uence in dip- lomatic meetings held in British-cont rolled venues than at home. Although colonial offi cials did not try to push women out of chiefl y positions, they did pursue policies that unintentionally restricted the power women exercised in the realm of diplomacy. Th e lack of centralization and weak authority of the native “kings” frustrated Europeans, who often did not know which chief to deal with.⁷¹ Th ey soon found that an agreement with one leader did not bind any other men in his town, much less the whole confederacy. In response, the British attempted to enforce a proper “submission” to headmen and even tried to create a national “emperor” for several of the larger tribes.⁷² In 1730, Sir Al- exander Cuming took it upon himself, with no authority from the Crown, to appoint Moytoy, chief of (one of the leading lower towns), “emperor” over the entire nation. All Cherokees were to defer to Moytoy, giving the Brit- ish one point of resort. Further, Moytoy was to be subordinate to the British and to submit to their sovereignty over himself, his people, and most impor- tant, Cherokee land.⁷³ Th e British continued to use the fi ction of a national “emperor” throughout the rest of the colonial period. Th e Cherokee referred to the “emperor” as “Th e white Men’s King,” recognizing the British origin of his position.⁷⁴ In addition to trying to shore up the power of the headmen, British offi cials also sought to exclude all others, male or female, from diplomacy to streamline the process and reduce costs. In the eighteenth century the practice did not work eff ectively, and women and less infl uential men continued to ac- company delegations in spite of British scolding. Over time, however, British insistence on dealing primarily with only a few key headmen served to restrict the power that nonchiefs (men and women alike) held in foreign aff airs. Although not chiefs, those women who accompanied diplomatic contin- gents in the eighteenth century generally possessed high rank and position and were often the wives or other relatives of leading headmen. When James Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 33 Oglethorpe fi rst arrived in Georgia, he was met by the Yamacraw chief To- mochichi, his nephew Tooannahowi, and Tomochichi’s wife Scenauky.⁷⁵ In 1744 the South Carolina Council ordered presents to be given to “the [Chicka- saw] King’s Wife and Daughters” then in town.⁷⁶ Th at same year the council approved a “piece of Callicoe for ye Ochee Kings wife.”⁷⁷ Women served a number of critical functions as members of offi cial con- tingents. First, the presence of women in native diplomacy usually indicated peaceful intentions.⁷⁸ In 1756, the Indian trader John Kenard declared to Sa- vannah justices of the peace that “from his Knowledge of Indians they would not have taken up Arms when their Women and Children were there.”⁷⁹ Indians became nervous when they noticed that European diplomats usually traveled without women. Th at same year, when the South Carolina agent Dan- iel Pepper suggested to Wolf, headman of Oakchoy (Creek), that the British build a fort at Muklasa, Wolf cautiously agreed, while warning that this fort would cause alarm in the nation. In addition to limiting the number of soldiers manning the post to fi fteen or twenty, Wolf advised that the men bring with them “some Women and Children which would aleviate their Fears greatly of being made Slaves.”⁸⁰ Women further provided comfort and valuable services to traveling parties, who often covered large distances, especially when making the trip to Charles Tow n or Savannah. Th omas Nairne noted that, during his expedition to the Ocheses and , several women accompanied his retinue, and he re- marked that “the savages also Esteeming them necessary troubles seldom Trav- ell without some of them.” As soon as the group pitched camp, “the Ladies went to making Broth or roasting Turkeys.”⁸¹ In 1758, Wolf, a Creek warrior and headman of New Nackalassa, told the governor of South Carolina that while in Charles Town “they had plenty of Victuals [given to them by the governor], but as they had Women with them, [Wolf ] desired that they might have their Victuals undressed, as they liked their own method of dressing better than the white People.”⁸² Cooking belonged to the list of women’s duties, and men sel- dom undertook this chore.⁸³ Women’s presence therefore became important for many traveling parties, diplomatic or not. Women played important ritual and kinship roles in formal meetings. Brit- ish offi cials unfortunately usually failed to note these roles, but there was prob- ably a signifi cant degree of continuity in diplomatic ceremonies during the eigh- teenth century. At the 1784 Hopewell Treaty meeting with the United States, Choctaw women painted themselves with white clay (the color of peace), then 34 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy sang and danced their parts in the eagle-tail dance. Th ereafter, they embraced the commissioners, most likely signifying a ritual adoption of the American of- fi cials as fi ctive kin. Women, as the linchpins in matrilineal systems, were the only ones who could ritually adopt the American representatives, and their presence was therefore crucial to friendly relations.⁸⁴ Women also extended traditional roles in providing hospitality to the dip- lomatic stage by giving gifts that conveyed welcome or goodwill. In 1713, trader Pryce Hughes reported that the Cherokee women resolved to send Queen Anne a present of “a large carpet made of mulbery bark” to sit on.⁸⁵ Some thirty years later, Georgia settler Francis Moore reported that during the fi rst meeting between colonial representatives and the Yamacraw, Scenauky, the wife of the important chief Tomochichi, presented the accompanying mission- aries with “two large jars, one of honey, and one of milk.”⁸⁶ Th at Scenauky brought milk and honey is somewhat questionable; the image sounds more biblical than native in origin. Although many Creek would adopt livestock rais- ing by the latter part of the eighteenth century, few had done so by the 1730s.⁸⁷ Regardless of whether the statement should be taken literally or fi guratively, however, Scenauky appears to have brought a gift of the fruits of her own labor as a gesture of her goodwill. While women did not engage publicly in negotiations, they heard the talks and could later remember and relay the content to others in their towns. As native societies did not record agreements and treaties in writing, oral trans- mission and retelling took on a particularly important role. Th e presence of leading women at diplomatic talks took on greater signifi cance as women (and children as well) then became key rememberers and retellers of important oc- currences. In 1757, visited Charles Town to give a talk to Gov- ernor Lyttelton and the council. “[T]he Young Fellows and Women, who are come with me,” he told the governor, “have heard your good Talk and will re- member it.”⁸⁸ Further, chiefs’ wives were members of diff erent clans and might well have represented those clans in diplomatic meetings. Indian governments generally functioned on the basis of consensus, and the headmen only had the ability to agree to terms that their towns had already approved. Th e presence of large diplomatic delegations, while frustrating to the British, who had to provide housing and gifts for all, fi tted with native notions of decision making. Chiefs needed the advice of other prominent people and the support of the commu- nity to conclude treaties because they lacked coercive power.⁸⁹ Th e presence Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 35 of women also served as a check on the agreements that leading men chose to make. As listeners, the women could report what they knew of negotiations once they returned home, putting pressure on chiefs not to sign treaties they did not have authority to make. Women also may have contributed to behind- the- scenes decision making. Delegations continued their discussions long into the night before reaching an agreement. Choctaw chief Taboca of West Yazoo helped explain native pro- tocol. “It is not usual to fi nish our talks in one day,” he said. “[W]e will now shake hands with you and take these talks back to camp [for further delibera- tions].”⁹⁰ James Adair noted, “Th ey are very deliberate in their councils, and never give an immediate answer to any message sent to them by strangers, but suff er some nights fi rst to elapse.”⁹¹ Th e degree to which the female members of delegations shaped late- night wrangling can only be guessed at, as women’s role in governance generally is often unclear. James Adair, who spent most of his trading years among the Chickasaw, reported that “they admit none but dis- tinguished warriors, and old beloved men, into their councils.”⁹² On the other hand, women, as key members of their matrilineal clans, determined the fate of war captives and often shaped decisions to go to war. Senior women in clans were considered beloved, and their infl uence was far reaching.⁹³ Women could exert considerable pressure in the more informal aspects of native politics, in ways that colonial observers might miss. Native women seldom made formal speeches in diplomatic meetings before the American Revolution.⁹⁴ Th ey did sometimes convey messages through male representatives, however, and in this way shaped the nature and tone of the negotiations. Th e messages also shed light on a distinctly feminine diplo- matic language, one that emphasized women’s roles as mothers and always con- cerned matters of peace. In 1749, a delegation of Cherokee from the town of Little Tellico visited the Lower Creek town of Okfuskee. Tasata of Hiwassee (a leading Cherokee town) gave a talk and reported that “the beloved Women of our beloved Town little Telico has sent some White Beads to the King of the Oakfuskees[.] [T]hey think of [a] time to come [when] they may be out in the Woods where they think they [will] be in no danger of neither themselves or their Children.”⁹⁵ Women spoke as mothers concerned with the safety of their children. In 1757, Attakullakulla delivered a talk to Governor William Henry Lyttelton of South Carolina and reported, “Some of our Women . . . were desirous of seeing you, and are come here for that purpose, and have de- sired me to deliver their Talk to you.” Th e women’s message indicated that 36 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy they “were rejoyced to see their Sisters the White Women who lately came with the White Men at Tuskego & hope they are come to mix with them and to settle among them, that they may learn from them to make such things as they want.”⁹⁶ Th ese talks were delivered as specifi cally feminine communica- tions and dealt with women’s concerns. Th e gifts sent with the talks also dem- onstrate some of the symbolism employed by women in diplomatic situations. White was the universal color of peace among southeastern Indians. In native society, women were associated with peace, while men were associated with war. Th is correlation was demonstrated even in death; Nairne reported that for women’s burials, the funeral posts were “adorned with white feathers, and a swans wing tyed a Top,” whereas those of warriors were painted red with bows and military adornments tied to them.⁹⁷ Th e white beads that the Cherokee women sent, then, served to reinforce their peaceful message. Two women did speak on their own behalf in the eighteenth century. Mary Musgrove served as an agent for the colony of Georgia from the 1730s to the 1750s. She frequently worked as a translator during offi cial meetings (although she did not convey her own messages at these times) and carried dispatches between Savannah and Creek villages. Th e Colony of Georgia often paid her to represent its interests with her Creek relatives. Musgrove’s role is diffi cult to analyze, though, because she lived most of her adult life in British society, and it is frequently diffi cult to disentangle her voice from those of the men around her. One revealing record of her diplomatic eff orts can shed some light, how- ever; in this instance she spoke as a woman, shaming her male audience for their lack of manly behavior. Serving as Georgia’s agent to demand satisfaction for the murder of some Englishmen, Musgrove took the chiefs to task, as her husband and fellow agent Th omas Bosomworth reported: “[I]t was very weak and childish for them to declare they did not know what was best to be done for the Good of their own Nation. Th at she was a Woman [and] could tell them that it was best to agree to give Satisfaction demanded.” In this case, far from demanding political authority herself, Musgrove emphasized the male re- sponsibility to provide leadership, calling attention to her own gender to shame the men for not being more decisive.⁹⁸ Nancy Ward provided a distinctively female voice during negotiations in 1781 that put an end to the American-Cherokee confl ict that accompanied the Revolution when she addressed an assembly of American and Cherokee rep- resentatives. Th at offi cials reported surprise at this occurrence is signifi cant. Anglo- Americans had been in contact with the Cherokee long enough that if Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 37 this had been standard Cherokee practice they would have been aware of it. Th e speech is nevertheless revealing: “You know that women are always looked upon as nothing; but we are your mothers; you are our sons. Our cry is all for peace; let it continue. . . . Let your women’s sons be ours; our sons be yours. Let your women hear our words.” She did not speak as a warrior or as a chief but as a woman and a mother. Ward’s talk made use of family metaphors, as did many given by men, but hers were distinctly female, installing Cherokee women as the fi ctive mothers of the American diplomats present and turning them into her children. A mother in either society possessed a certain degree of moral au- thority, and Ward’s pleas for peace fi t the gendered expectations of both.⁹⁹ While women spoke rarely in formal conferences, they more often deliv- ered messages in informal situations. Women traveled either alone or in small parties on all sorts of occasions and could be valuable sources of information. Governor Étienne Périer of Louisiana reported in 1730 that he had informa- tion regarding the Natchez War from “the wife of the man named Patlaco, a Choctaw chief who was wounded at the Natchez.” Th e woman, thinking her husband dead, journeyed to New Orleans to either fi nd him or learn of his fate and, while there, confi rmed rumors of the defeat of the Yazoos.¹⁰⁰ When a situation was particularly precarious, headmen might choose women to carry messages in order to have the best opportunity of achieving peaceful ends. Ed- mund Atkins reported that in 1744, the Blind King, a leading Chickasaw head- man, “without the Knowledge of any of his own People, or of our Traders, sent to the Chactaw Nation privately by a Woman, Proposals for a Peace between them & us.” Th at the chosen messenger was female emphasized to the Choc- taw the peaceful nature of the Blind King’s intentions and refl ected fears that a formal male delegation might be rejected or even attacked. Her mission was highly successful, and the following January the Choctaw sent a formal delega- tion of headmen to the Chickasaw in order to make peace.¹⁰¹ In diplomatic situations, women also served as interpreters. In 1735, Ed- ward Jenkins, on an emergency mission to the Creek, took with him the wife of a man named Bartlet as his translator. Sending Mrs. Bartlet on ahead, Jen- kins gave her a “Bottle of Rum to Carry with her & charged her to say nothing tell [til] I came but drink with them.”¹⁰² She was instrumental in easing Jen- kins’s way into Creek society by locating the chief, named Husteche, with whom Jenkins wished to talk and plying him with liquor. She further made his mission possible by translating their conversation. Th is pattern was com- mon across the Southeast throughout the eighteenth century. In 1756, a dele- 38 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy gation set out from Chote to Fort Toulouse to enter peace negotiations with the French. Th e party took with them “a young Cherockee Wench that speaks the Savannah Tongue,” leading the British to believe that she carried “a private Message also to Peter Shurttee who is at the Head of a Party of Savannahs that [are] settled some where about the Halbama Fort.”¹⁰³ Th e nonattendance of British women at colonial council meetings may well have struck Indians as strange, although only one chief ever asked about it. Cherokee chief Attakullakulla mentioned his surprise at the absence of women during diplomatic talks when he found that he had no women to whom to de- liver the message sent by the Cherokee women. He observed “that the White Men as well as the Red were born of Women and that it was Customary for them to admit the Women into their Councils and desired to know if that was not the Custom of the White People also.”¹⁰⁴ Th e governor, clearly a bit nonplussed, simply replied that “he commended them for the esteem they ex- pressed for their Women” and maintained that “[t]he White Men do place a Confi dence in their Women and share their Counsels with them when they know their Hearts to be good.”¹⁰⁵ Infl uential women (like Mary Musgrove, in her offi cial capacity as translator) might attend the council if they actually had business that concerned the government. Otherwise, they did not attend and certainly did not serve on the council. Attakullakulla’s statements must be put into perspective. Cherokee women seem to have played a more signifi cant role in government than did women in other southeastern societies. Th is may in part explain why only Attakullakulla commented on the lack of women in the South Carolina Council. Further, al- though British women may not have enjoyed the same degree of infl uence in their communities that Cherokee women did, they could still bring a certain amount of unoffi cial and extra- institutional power to bear. British women had a more visible presence in local government forums such as county or district court sessions or parish meetings. In South Carolina, they enjoyed greater con- trol over property and therefore played a more active role in the colonial social order than in England or in other North American colonies.¹⁰⁶ Although this did not translate into political power on a colony-wide level, women wielded greater economic authority and independence in South Carolina than in other British regions. Further, while absent from formal council meetings, British women par- ticipated in receiving diplomatic delegations. Widows often provided housing and provisions for visiting Indians; when men off ered hospitality, their wives Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 39 presumably did the cooking and played the role of hostess. Th e records of the commons house and the commissioners of the Indian trade for South Caro- lina contain numerous reimbursement requests from women for the cost of provisions, liquor, housing, and pasturage for Indian horses. In 1716, the com- missioners ruled that “Mrs. Gray be paid her full Demands for entertaining the Indians which attended Col. Hastings from the Charikees, to Charles Town.”¹⁰⁷ In 1750, Mrs. Sarah Amory was reimbursed 1,449.6 for the enter- tainment of a band of Cherokee and for pasturing their horses on Charles Town neck, while Mrs. Mary Russell received 218.7.6 for hosting some Ca- tawba.¹⁰⁸ Such a reception by women fi tted well with the natives’ own ideas of hospitality, in which prominent women fed and housed visiting ambassa- dors and probably occasioned little surprise from them. While British offi cials considered hosting large parties an annoying expense, for native delegations it played an important role in the diplomatic process. Th ose women who hosted visiting headmen and their families demonstrated British goodwill and friend- ship in ways that high- level negotiations sometimes neglected. Although women performed functions that to the British appeared domes- tic, “private,” or “unoffi cial,” these tasks were crucial parts of diplomacy as far as Indians were concerned. In many regards, women’s activities refl ected key as- pects of native ways of dealing with outsiders, including hospitality, multiple means of conveying messages, and a more diff use kind of governance. British offi cials might grouse about the added expense of hosting women, but they could not ignore the need to accommodate them. Governors often saw visit- ing women through their own patriarchal lens, assuming that they needed to welcome women in order to avoid alienating their husbands. Others, however, probably recognized that prominent women could work for or against the Brit- ish in their own villages and that winning their goodwill could serve to advance British interests.

The Problem of Presents

In 1753, the South Carolina Assembly approved a parcel of presents for a large delegation of Creek and Cherokee then in town. Th e goods supplied in this case were typical of mid- eighteenth century Indian diplomacy:

Th at to the 3 [?] Headmen of Each nation be given Each a Red Coat Laced hatt Ruffl ed Shirt Gun Blanket Shoes Stockings Buckles and 40 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy Garters and to their Wifes each 6 yards of Callico 3 yeards of Ribbond and a Pair of Bobs To the 7 Head men of the Second Rank of Each Nation a grandillo Coat Each a Shirt a Gun a Blankett Flap, Boots Shoes and Buckles and 6 yard of Embosed Sarge and one pair of Bobs to Each of their Wives who are present at this Interview Th e Ten remaining headmen of each nation a Shirt Gun Blankett Flaps Boots and Shoes and Buckles each and to such of their wives as are present there as in the foregoing To each of the Common Men of Each nation a Gun Blankett and Flap to be Distributed among such of the Creeks as shall be present 150 pound wt of Powder & 300 wt of Bullets fi ve hundred Flints fi ve pound of Paint half a gross of Cadiz Ten Looking Glasses Twelve Combs Ten pound wt of Th read 2000 needles 1 Doz. pair of Scissars and a Knife to Each.¹⁰⁹

Th e distribution of such presents marked the concluding ceremonies of all dip- lomatic meetings in the eighteenth century, although the volume increased and the lists became more specifi c as the decades went on. Originally exchanged in order to create mutual obligations or as an exten- sion of hospitality, gifts came to be a crucial aspect of Anglo- Indian relations. Th e distribution of gifts most clearly demonstrates British accommodation to Indian traditions. If they wished to maintain Indian alliances, British offi cials needed to make concessions to native expectations—although numerous com- plaints from both the assemblies and the governors indicate how reluctantly they did so. When viewed through a gendered lens, however, gift giving reveals a particular kind of accommodation that involved deliberate eff orts on the part of the givers to reshape the culture (in particularly gendered ways) of the re- ceiver in a manner the giver deemed appropriate. Th ose on the receiving side also tried to game the system in ways that demonstrated the complexity and uncertainty that characterized all eighteenth- century eff orts at diplomacy. Th e gifts supplied by the British (or at times requested by the Indians) refl ected culturally distinct notions of what goods were proper for which sex, as well as an eff ort to subtly reinforce those trends in native gender systems that the British favored. On the other hand, however, they also refl ect British offi cials’ need to accommodate the presence of women in diplomacy, as high-ranking women could not be ignored without serious repercussions. More important, over time the British learned to manipulate a system that they considered to Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 41 be an irritating concession to Indian demands. Gift giving provided an avenue for the British to interfere with native male status systems and therefore gov- ernment. By selectively giving gifts and commissions that recognized certain leaders while ignoring or slighting others, colonial offi cials could infl uence na- tive hierarchies. Growing Indian dependence on manufactured goods served to give these gifts increasing weight as the century progressed. British offi cials found that gifts could also be a double- edged sword, though, raising concerns that headmen were manipulating the system to make the colonies tributary to them, thereby threatening British assumptions of sovereignty.¹¹⁰ An analysis of gift- giving practices in the early years of colonization faces substantial diffi culties in that it is not always possible to separate the giving of presents from trade. Although for the British the two were substantially dif- ferent, for Indians the exchange of goods always had diplomatic implications. Th e practice was closely tied to hospitality and was used to create relationships of reciprocity between allies. Even as generally accepted values for merchandise were established, the relational aspects of exchange continued to play a role that the British often struggled to understand but could not ignore. Gift giving marked the earliest meetings between the English and native peoples in the Carolinas. In 1666, Robert Sandford visited a principal town near Port Royal, where he was hospitably received and presented with a parcel of skins.¹¹¹ Aware that gifts were a necessary part of creating alliances, in 1669 (the year before the founding of Charles Town), the Proprietors ordered the storekeeper to lay out “presents to the Indian Kings.”¹¹² A mutual practice of exchanging gifts quickly developed. As the alliances matured, however, the practice began to change, with the British taking greater responsibility for sup- plying gifts to native recipients. After the Yamasee War, British clerks rarely reported gifts supplied by Indians.¹¹³ It is possible that clerks simply failed to record them, as the government was mostly focused on its own economic out- lay rather than any (to British minds, inconsiderable) gifts supplied by visiting delegations. Gifts from Indians only appear in those instances in which they became matters of concern or contention; a controversy between the governor and the assembly between 1706 and 1710 over who could claim Indian presents brought several gifts to light that otherwise might have gone unrecorded. On the other hand, the practice may have evolved over time, coming to focus on British largesse instead of mutual exchange. Such a phenomenon was consis- tent with the responsibilities that the British assumed when they adopted the role of elder brother or father. Certainly, gift giving appears to have become 42 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy very imbalanced, and the quantity of the presents that the British supplied in- creased substantially as the century progressed. Because of the growing size of gift parcels, the ability of the government to use them as a tool of manipula- tion also increased. British offi cials, through their designation and distribution of presents and offi cial commissions, sometimes unintentionally and sometimes deliberately interfered in native male hierarchies and leadership systems. Colonial gov- ernments set aside presents for Indian deputies according to both “Rank & Sex.”¹¹⁴ In general practice, the government usually advocated that “the Prin- cipal or Headmen of Towns be particularly distinguished from their Follow- eres in Quality and Quantity.”¹¹⁵ As in the list above, chiefs or leaders of dele- gations generally received red coats, to set them apart from second men, who received blue coats, and other men, who often received only a shirt.¹¹⁶ Th e dis- tinction refl ected British notions of hierarchy by assuming that greater author- ity should be marked materially. More deliberately, though, the government intended gifts and commissions to augment the hierarchy they perceived in na- tive government, ultimately making Indian government conform to the model of European nation- states. Th e British were somewhat successful in their aims, although they often found that they were fi ghting an uphill battle against native traditions that served to militate against the accumulation of material wealth. Headmen, counter to British intentions, redistributed the goods they collected. In 1758, the missionary William Richardson noted that the Cherokee chief Standing Turkey was quite “naked,” asserting that the reason for his lack of proper ap- parel was that “he had given away all his Clothes wn they danced & told their Exploits.”¹¹⁷ In many southeastern societies, redistribution was generally ex- pected and was a primary way that a leader achieved status. While the British envisioned elevating the prestige of loyal headmen by increasing their material wealth, many chiefs instead gained infl uence by giving away much of what had been bestowed upon them. As time went on, however, native elites increasingly came to rely on Euro- pean goods, not just materially but also psychologically and socially. Access to imported manufactures became crucial to the assertion of manhood.¹¹⁸ Fire arms were particularly important. In 1730, a group of Choctaw headmen told Governor Périer that “they would never forget that it was he [the king of France] who had made them men and rendered them formidable to their neighbors.”¹¹⁹ Clothing also became a key marker of status. Kanagatoga bluntly Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 43 laid the situation out for Captain Raymond Demere: “I see you and your War- riours are well dressed in red Cloaths: I am naked and ragged. I hope to be en- abled to appear like a Man that I may sitt with you without disgracing you. All of us hope the King will remember us and send us a Present.”¹²⁰ By midcentury, gift giving underwent an important shift that further in- creased the material infl uence of favored chiefs. In 1748 the king authorized royal shipments of gifts to Georgia and South Carolina in order to relieve those colonies of the growing expense of providing Indian presents. Th ence- forth, Indian leaders might be entrusted with large parcels of goods for their entire town or even nation.¹²¹ Th e ability to redistribute such substantial quan- tities of merchandise bolstered the infl uence of favored chiefs, while reduc- ing that of chiefs excluded from the process. Such a practice caused problems, however, when the selected headmen did not redistribute those presents the way the people expected. In 1754 the Raven of Toxaway (Cherokee) caused “a great Demur” to arise among the towns near Fort Prince George when he “made away with all the Presents your Excellency gave him, and he never gave the Kewohee People any Th ing of the Presents but the Powder and Ball, for which Reason they will not hear any Th ing from him.”¹²² Less expensive, but desired as much as if not more than presents (and often bestowed together as part of the same ceremony), were the commissions the British supplied to headmen designating them as chiefs or captains.¹²³ Because they more explicitly represented European acknowledgment of offi cial author- ity, commissions could play an even greater role than gifts in destabilizing na- tive male status systems. Th e British appear to have begun supplying these documents in the early 1700s.¹²⁴ In granting commissions, British offi cials tried to bolster the authority of friendly headmen, while at the same time en- acting their own assumptions of sovereignty over Indian nations. Th e king and his deputy the governor claimed authority over those native peoples settled on the land granted to the colony. As subject peoples, the Indians were then ex- pected to defer to British governance. Commissioned captains were selected from among traditional leaders within Indian communities who had shown themselves loyal, and other members of their towns were expected to render them proper obedience. For natives, on the other hand, commissions rarely served the functions that British offi cials intended them to. Instead, commissions became an ad- ditional status symbol, a sign that white allies recognized the merit and pres- tige of the headmen, and as such were highly valued.¹²⁵ In fact, native leaders 44 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy often requested commissions or demanded ceremonies reissuing existing com- missions. When representatives of several small coastal and piedmont tribes visited Charles Town in 1717, all the groups desired new papers for their lead- ers, and the Waccamaws asked “that Capt. Piques should be made warr Cap- taine.”¹²⁶ Because native leaders took commissions to represent the esteem of their European allies, the prospect of being stripped of a commission caused considerable anxiety, if not hostility. In 1765, Alibamon Mingo complained to Governor George Johnstone of East Florida that Superintendent John Stuart had threatened just such an insult, and the headman vigorously defended his own right to leadership. He introduced himself by saying, “I am of the Great Race of Ingulacta, I am Master of the whole Chactaw Nation by Birth, by Long Employment & by Long Experience.” However, Stuart had “reported that those Medal Chiefs who did not behave well Should be broke & their Medals given to others.” Th is statement had “rung every Night in my Ear,” the head- man said. “I dreamed I should be the Person, which would break my heart in my Old Age, to Loose the Authority I have so long held.” “[T]he worthy can- not bear to be disgraced without a fault,” he concluded. “Neither will the Gen- erous Infl ict a Punishment without a Crime.”¹²⁷ Both presents and commissions could interfere with traditional ways of selecting chiefs. In 1725, Old Brim, the infl uential headman of Coweta, com- plained that the British had begun to recognize headmen without his approval. Before, Brim maintained, “thire was never a head man made here but such as I would Recomend to your King. But now any young Fellow that gees [sic] Down and Tell[s] a Find [sic] Story they [get] a Commission and then they Come here and they are head Men and at the Same Time No more [fi t] for it then Doges.” Agent Tobias Fitch, the recipient of Brim’s talk, replied in frustration that the British could not tell which men among them they could depend on.¹²⁸ While in some cases Europeans may have simply been confused as to who really had infl uence in the society, in others they deliberately tried to undermine one leader by creating another. South Carolina agent Colonel George Chicken complained in 1725 that the chief of the lower part of the Cherokee nation was ineff ective and the people there neither honored nor listened to him. “I am of opinion,” he concluded, “that an old Indian called (breaker face) is the properest person for a King for these parts he being a man of resolucon and was always known to be a good man to the English and I believe will keep the young men under [a better] Government than they are now.”¹²⁹ Th e results of gifts and commissions were often not what offi cials intended. Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 45 Rather than propping up the authority of friendly headmen, British tinkering sometimes simply destabilized Indian leadership. Coweta chief Malatchi in fact blamed the ill behavior of the young men of his nation on the British, main- taining that “the white People themselves were the cheif [sic] Cause of their Disobedience in making Captains and great Men by Commissions granted them who had no Right to command, which made great Confusion in their Nation.”¹³⁰ Whether the British or the natives themselves were primarily to blame for this situation is unclear. Certainly, the British had their own agenda in granting commissions, but ambitious Indian leaders sometimes misled the British regarding the status of the various men who came to Charles Town or Savannah in order to get presents for their friends or followers. In 1735, Geor- gia agent Patrick Mackay requested that Tomochichi, headman of the Yama- craw and one of Georgia’s closest allies, not invite any men to Savannah with- out his knowledge. Mackay had found that some of the individuals Tomochichi sent were “inclined to have their own private friends Carried down, and not the Leading men.” Th is would not do. “[P]resents should be bestowed on the most deserveing and of the most Interest and Power among them,” rather than being “[l]avished away by Tomichichi” for his own purposes, Mackay concluded.¹³¹ In an eff ort to counteract such proceedings, in 1751 Governor James Glen of South Carolina proposed a new general scheme for regulating the Indian trade. Glen’s plan would have required each trader to keep a journal of his stay in the Indian nations, recording all noteworthy happenings so that “when any of their Warriours or head Men that may have Commissions from this Government die or are killed,” the British might know “who are the most proper to succeed them, and to have Commissions.”¹³² Th e method was by no means foolproof, however. Edmond Atkins complained that those “[t]raders who write Letters by them, or come as Interpreters with them, by their recommendations impose their own Favourites or Friends upon the Government as Leading Men, for the sake of Presents; by which means many Indians receive valuable Presents, who have really very little Infl uence in their Nations. Nay sometimes such receive by the same means Commissions also, which cannot but displease the Men of Superior Sway in their own Towns.”¹³³ Although British offi cials intended presents and commissions to symbol- ize Indian subordination as well as British superiority and benevolence, the po- tential existed for a diff erent interpretation, a fact that produced a signifi cant degree of anxiety among colonial administrators. Aware of their own vulner- ability and need for native allies, governors could ill aff ord not to give presents. 46 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy Th is necessity raised the fear that the Indians would perceive the gifts they re- ceived as tribute. In the wake of the Yamasee War, several leading settlers com- plained of their dependence on the Cherokee and the cost of continuing that alliance. “Th e Charge We are at to maintain them, and the Demands they make are so unreasonable, that we may properly say, We are become their Tributar- ies. We buy their Friendship at too dear a rate, if the Wellfare of the Colony did not depend on the same.”¹³⁴ Th e situation was not much better four de- cades later. Edmund Atkins expressed reservations about the practice of send- ing loads of presents to the nation with traders. “[T]he Transaction itself,” he wrote, “would necessarily destroy [the natural & true] Ideas Indians have of Presents, (that is, that they are given mutually as tokens of Friendship, when Friends meet upon Business of a National Concern), and consequently in time make them lookd on as a kind of Tribute from us.”¹³⁵ For the British, subor- dinates paid tribute to their superiors, or the vanquished to their conquerors. Being seen as tributary threatened Englishmen’s claims of dominance in the region. Th is in turn threatened their very manhood. Th e problem of presents revealed the very precarious nature of kinship metaphors in diplomacy. Europeans expected the assertion of brotherhood to include Indian submission to the king as father, and consequently they re- sented the expectation that the “father” should be a source of unlimited lar- gesse. Indians, on the other hand, demanded that Europeans provide them with goods in consideration of their fi ctive family ties. By assuming the role of younger brothers, headmen believed that they were alerting British leaders to their responsibility to supply native needs. Failing to comprehend native kin- ship relations or indigenous use of the metaphors drawn from them, offi cials concluded that the Indians were greedy. When headmen continually pressed for gifts, offi cials resisted. William Bull complained that “if the English were to cloath every Individual of the Creek, Cherrockees, Catawba and Chicke- saw Nations, we must go naked ourselves.”¹³⁶ Nevertheless, necessity deter- mined that the practice of giving presents would continue through the era of the American Revolution.¹³⁷ Although presents and commissions designed for men received the most consideration from British offi cials, women who traveled as part of diplomatic delegations could not be excluded. Colonial administrators may have consid- ered women an unwelcome burden and failed to recognize the role they played in negotiations, but they dared not ignore them. Fearful of off ending their hus- bands or relatives, governors and assembly members agreed to set aside specifi c Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 47 goods for women. Th e presents designated for the women were often noted with reference to the women’s husbands, were often listed last, and were gen- erally less valuable than those set aside for men. Depending on the number of women at a meeting, gifts might be the same for all women or (as in the ex- ample above) might show gradation of rank. Offi cials also tried to select what they considered gender-appropriate items for their female visitors. In 1738, for example, the assembly agreed to supply “a piece of Callicoe for the Chactaw King’s Wife” as well as blankets “to each of the Chactaw Men for their Wives & Families.”¹³⁸ A few years later, the government approved a gift “[t]o the King’s Wife and Daughters Each a Callico Jacket, and Coat, Looking Glass, ribbon, Earrings and a few beads.”¹³⁹ Nevertheless, presents provided to women dem- onstrated the need of British offi cials to make concessions to Indian expecta- tions in diplomacy. While presents and commissions could serve to destabilize male hierar- chies, their eff ect on female status is less clear. Very little is known about the sources of female reputation in native society. Women appear to have enjoyed their position largely through their clan connections and, to a lesser extent, through their marriages to high- ranking men. Redistribution of goods ac- quired as gifts from male family members or through marriage to British trad- ers had some bearing on female status, although it was probably less signifi cant than it was for men. By granting presents to elite women, the British boosted the prestige of those women by providing them with merchandise they could either give away or retain as a marker of esteem. However, Europeans made far less eff ort to interfere with female rank because they did not identify it with formal political power (except in those cases involving coastal tribes with female chiefs). Europeans generally did not issue commissions that recognized the authority women possessed in their clans or as members of diplomatic del- egations. Also unclear is the eff ect of presents on relations between the sexes. Th e fact that gifts to men were more substantial than those to women, refl ecting the British sense that the female visitors were merely hangers-on, may have served to elevate men’s status vis- à-vis their female relatives and companions. When the king began to contribute supplies annually, however, parcels sent to the nation included goods of interest to both men and women. Allowing chiefs the power to redistribute gifts within their communities, however, may also have contributed to elevating elite men’s status over that of women. Overall, the acquisition of presents increased the standing of those men and few elite 48 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy women who made diplomatic journeys or were able to infl uence the distribu- tion of presents, at the expense of non- elites. British notions of gender-appropriate goods might also become a point of some contention. Offi cials designated gifts that conformed to their own no- tions of what men and women needed or would use. Gifts for men gener- ally consisted of arms or ammunition, clothes, blankets, and other accessories. Women received items that the British considered particularly feminine, such as petticoats, looking glasses, ribbons, and beads. British offi cials never sup- plied women with guns or ammunition, refl ecting values in both societies that recognized men rather than women as the warriors and hunters. Although Indians also subscribed to notions of sex- appropriate gifts, their ideas were somewhat diff erent from those of the British. In consequence, Indian leaders might request particular items that demonstrated native gen- der ideals and interests. By midcentury (corresponding roughly with the de- cision of the British king to provide annual gifts), headmen began to specifi - cally list goods they considered appropriate and desirable. In 1752, Tassittee of Chote asked Governor Glen of South Carolina for powder, bullets, guns, fl ints, paint, knives, hatchets, “and Glasses forsooth to dress themselves with. Likewise, Tape and Ribbons to lace their Match- Coats . . . also Brochio’s [sic] or silver Breast Rings for the Bosoms of their Shirts with plenty of Barley Corn, Beads, and your Purple and white Wampoms, and the forked or three- cornered Wampoms in the Manner of the Northward.”¹⁴⁰ Looking glasses were generally gifts set aside for women, but Tassittee’s request clearly showed that they were used by men too for applying war paint or making themselves stylish in the newest European garments. Native women, on the other hand, often used goods that the British were likely to set aside for men. In 1766, a Chickasaw headman enumerated several items he desired from Governor Lord Charles Grenville Montague: “for their Women Handkercheifs looking Glasses Breast Plates Ear bobs Pipe [and] Hatchets.” While pipes and hatchets sound like unusual goods for women, they fi tted with native gender norms.¹⁴¹ Southeastern Indian women smoked just as the men did.¹⁴² Th e job of procuring fi rewood fell to women, making hatchets useful items for wom- en’s work.¹⁴³ Other items that Europeans set aside for men were particularly demanded by women. Knives were useful for cooking, curing hides, and nu- merous other purposes. Women used hoes to tend their cornfi elds. Montague in this case proved resistant to this assertion of native gender roles, declin- ing to provide everything the Indians had requested and instead supplying the women with beads, needles and thread, and copper kettles. Gender, Family, and Diplomacy 49 Why native headmen began making such specifi c demands after about mid- century is unclear. Increasing dependency on European manufactures likely led to growing political pressure at home to gain more and particular kinds of goods in any way possible. Th e king’s provision of presents seemed to guaran- tee a steady supply of merchandise, raising expectations that Indians would be better supplied in the future with items that they really wanted. Further, many groups were growing increasingly frustrated with the British because of land encroachments and irregularities in the trade, and requests for presents were in some ways requests for better treatment and more recognition of Indian needs and wants. In the end, both European notions and Indian desires shaped the bestowing of commissions and the distribution of presents. Yet while the process was mu- tually constructed, the eff ect on Indian communities was considerably greater than on the colonies. British attention to rank and sex probably served to am- plify those distinctions in native society. By entrusting the apportioning of the king’s presents to well-disposed headmen after 1749, British offi cials increased the status of those chiefs at the expense of more hostile leaders or other mem- bers of the tribe, male and female. European desires to streamline the pro- cess of diplomacy by creating supreme chiefs with whom they could negotiate would, by the nineteenth century, lead to the centralization of Indian govern- ment and the consolidation of towns into larger “tribes” or “confederacies.”

Diplomatic eff orts during the colonial period were successful more often than not. Particularly after the Yamasee War, both the British and their remaining native allies exerted considerable eff ort to maintain the peace. Both sides had a great deal to gain by avoiding bloodshed and preserving the trade. Th erefore, Anglo- Indian diplomacy involved a search for a common ground, with each side trying to protect or advance its own interests with a minimum of confl ict. Th e British focused on maintaining the balance of power in the region, des- perately seeking to protect their alliances with their neighbors and to prevent encroachments by the French. Th ey further desired peaceful ways of acquiring land, in keeping with their assumptions that their occupation of America was based on settlement and purchase rather than conquest.¹⁴⁴ Natives for their part wished to strengthen their own position in the region by means of mili- tary and trade alliances with European nations, gaining assistance against their new and traditional enemies and supplying an ever- growing demand for Eu- ropean manufactures. Th e creation of fi ctive kinship based on fraternal ties binding brothers 50 Gender, Family, and Diplomacy born of a native mother and English father was crucial to the relationship. Th e meaning each group attached to the relationship was ambiguous, mak- ing it fl exible enough to be eff ective while also subject to manipulation. Each group adapted the tools that grew out of this new cross-cultural diplomacy to its own purposes, using common metaphors, ceremonies, or the exchange of gifts to advance its own interests. As the balance of power in the region shifted, however, the British became less willing to accommodate native demands for gifts and began to demand more and more of their “brothers,” upsetting the tenuous peace. 2  “I Am a Man and a Warrior” native and british rhetorics of manhood and warfare

lthough British and native diplomats regularly strove to avoid Ahostilities, the constant threat of confl ict hung over the Southeast. As a result, discussions about warfare (both real and potential) took up a dispro- portionate amount of time in formal meetings throughout the colonial period. In truth, it would have been surprising had matters been otherwise. English- men and natives regularly encountered one another militarily, both as enemies and as allies fi ghting together in joint expeditions against various native and European rivals. Even during times of relative peace, matters of defense and preparedness occupied considerable thought and eff ort for all parties in the region. Historians have devoted much attention to European-native confl ict, refl ecting the bias both of the records and of scholars who tended to valorize (or bemoan) the chaos of battle. Few, however, have considered the gendered aspects of European- native warfare.¹ Perhaps more than any other arena of inter cultural interaction, military matters were intimately tied to notions of masculinity and femininity. Th e arrival of Europeans in the Southeast (dating back to the fi rst Span- ish entradas) brought two distinct martial cultures into contact. By the time the English arrived in the region, each side had already developed its own no- tions of what warfare in this “new world” would mean.² Although the rules that each side followed regarding appropriate tactics and military comportment dif- fered and would continue to do so, British and native men probably were more similar than diff erent in the ways that they thought about war. First and fore- most, both groups identifi ed fi ghting as primarily a man’s activity. As a result, each had developed its own particularly masculine culture focused at least in part on participation in military engagements. Each had a highly specialized martial code that honored warriors’ accomplishments, determined acceptable behavior during battles, and conceptualized the very meaning of war itself. Th e 52 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare meeting of these two masculine military systems in the Southeast resulted in a clash of cultures that led to substantial misunderstandings and provided each side with a way to critique the other. On the other hand, however, there were enough similarities to allow British and native men to fi ght alongside one an- other on a regular basis, often working together to achieve a common goal. In- deed, without native military assistance, the early English colonies might not have survived. Building on shared conceptions linking manhood and warfare, by the sec- ond third of the eighteenth century, British and native leaders had developed a mutual language of martial masculinity that came to characterize cross-cultural conversations and shaped diplomacy for the rest of the century. Th is new rhet- oric built on notions of elite male honor that already existed in each society. Honor is a diffi cult concept to defi ne and has a number of diff erent permuta- tions. It can refer to one’s own sense of one’s intrinsic worth and integrity, one’s virtue. Or it can refer to the recognition of one’s worth by the society in which one lives.³ In honor- based societies, men who comport themselves as their so- ciety dictates expect to receive respect from those around them. Challenges to one’s manhood are therefore more than simply “sticks and stones”; they pro- claim that a man is not worthy of esteem, that he has failed to demonstrate good character. Th ey undermine his standing in the community and beyond. Honorable men are expected to resent insults and to defend their reputations.⁴ Nations and communities also have honor, involving their reputation on an international stage. In the realm of diplomacy, national leaders demand that other nations recognize their social standing and personal integrity and respect the communities they represent. Asserting oneself as worthy of regard is there- fore a key tool of statesmanship. Insults leveled during diplomatic meetings, on the other hand, can serve to undermine good relations and produce tensions or even confl ict by dishonoring both the leaders and the peoples that sent them. Both European and southeastern Indian societies recognized the concept of honor, both for the individual and for the community or nation, although they based their notions of honor on somewhat diff erent criteria.⁵ (Further- more, ideas regarding honor were by no means uniform within a particular so- ciety but varied according to gender, status, age, and—especially in the Brit- ish colonies—racial or ethnic background.)⁶ Nevertheless, there was some overlap, particularly in the ways elite men reckoned honor. British offi cials and native headmen alike acknowledged traits like courage and military success, honesty, disinterestedness, self-control, and generosity as important criteria for Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 53 political and diplomatic leaders. Consequently, over time Indian and British elites developed a joint language of honor that linked manhood, military abil- ity, and personal integrity. Th is language played a key role in maintaining (or disrupting) alliances and in the jockeying for power and position in which all sides engaged in the colonial Southeast.

The Spanish Indian’s Head: The Meeting of Military Cultures in the Southeast

In February of 1727/28, South Carolina’s commissioner of Indian aff airs, Colo- nel John Herbert, visited the Cherokee nation. He had orders to encourage the Cherokee to take up the hatchet against the Creek to help avenge several “mur- ders” that nation had committed on South Carolina’s borders. While agree- ing to send out a body of warriors against the Creek, headman Choa:te:hee of added his own request. Choa:te:hee told Herbert that “he was never at Warr with me & that he wanted me to go to Warr with him.” Choa:te:hee’s request had a three- fold purpose. First, the headman wished to have an opportunity to assess for himself Herbert’s warrior abilities and there- fore the level of respect due him. Second, Choa:te:hee was aware that fi ghting together forged bonds between men and could solidify the Cherokee- British alliance. Finally, he may also have wanted to see if the British were willing to join in the war they were encouraging between the Cherokee and the Creek or if they were expecting the Cherokee to bear the brunt of hostilities. Her- bert, taken by surprise, hesitated, equivocated, and in the end responded that “I should be glad to go with him but that I would not go without Orders from the Governr-: . . . but would have him & his people be doing the Lower Creeks all the mischeif [sic] they could till they heard further from the En- glish.” Choa:te:hee at that point concluded that “he beleiv’d the English were afraid of the Creeks.”⁷ From the very beginning of the English colonies in the Southeast, English and Indian men encountered one another as members of military societies. Oftentimes, Europeans and natives fought both against and with one another at the same time. Herbert sought Cherokee allies in a war against the Creek. Indians regularly joined one European nation against another one. Warfare provided the participants a forum in which to assess one another’s military ability and, by extension, their manhood. War in both European and native societies was primarily a man’s concern, and martial success was a signifi cant 54 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare means through which men attained status and demonstrated masculine honor. Th e link between military achievement and manly reputation was so signifi cant that it was built structurally into both cultures through attainment of military titles, although the way the systems functioned and the relative importance of warlike accomplishment diff ered. Furthermore, the new geopolitical situation that colonization created in the region probably increased the importance of warfare for both Europeans and natives, strengthening the link between mas- culine honor and martial behavior. War in the New World therefore provided a venue for homosocial interactions focused around military service. Joint ex- peditions could serve as a way to build male camaraderie across racial and eth- nic lines as allies fought together for a common goal and depended upon each other for their very lives. At the same time, though, and regardless of who was on whose side, battles confronted each group with diff erences in martial cul- ture and rules of engagement that would persist throughout the colonial pe- riod. Misunderstandings regularly arose, and each judged the other’s martial comportment according to its own standards, often fi nding the other (whether ally or enemy) wanting. Native societies had a long history of warfare and confl ict predating the arrival of Europeans. Archaeological studies reveal evidence of fortifi ed vil- lages, increasingly sophisticated weaponry, and mortuary remains that demon- strate the prevalence of violence.⁸ Early Spanish explorers found peoples who were ready and able to fi ght back, and Spanish settlers in Florida and the sur- rounding region always had to reckon with native military strength.⁹ Coloniza- tion probably increased the importance of warfare for native men. During the protohistoric period, the larger Mississippian- era societies broke down into simpler societies, which may have reduced or eliminated other avenues toward preferment for men. As heredity and other similar means for obtaining as- cribed status became less salient, leaders came to rely on acquired status, often achieved through martial accomplishment.¹⁰ Th e arrival of the English in the region heralded a period of intensifi ed warfare from roughly 1660 to 1720 as a result of the Indian slave trade, which put even greater emphasis on martial ac- complishment for young men.¹¹ Th erefore, what the British observed as native men’s near- obsession with warfare was in many ways a recent development and itself a consequence of colonization. After 1720, incidents of open confl ict with the British were somewhat reduced, although hostilities spiked during the era of the French and Indian War and again surrounding the Revolution. Further, longstanding feuds between native nations continued, and consequently, war- Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 55 fare remained an important part of southeastern native men’s world through the end of the century. Th roughout the colonial period, success in battle was almost always essen- tial for male honor and acquisition of status in southeastern Indian societies.¹² Military accomplishment was recognized by the awarding of titles, and becom- ing a warrior marked an important rite of passage for young men. An early ob- server among the Choctaw noted that members of that tribe made a clear dis- tinction between what they called “tasca,” or warriors, and “atac emittla,” who had not yet “struck blows or who have killed only a woman or a child.” Th e lat- ter group made up the lowest order of men in the nation.¹³ Th e emphasis on attaining warrior status began early. Boys were trained from their youth to go to war. Achieving the status of warrior included a strict coming-of-age cere- mony in which elders beat the youth in order to discover his ability to with- stand suff ering at the hands of an enemy.¹⁴ Such observations seem to hold true across the region throughout the eighteenth century. In 1775, James Adair noted that among the several groups he had visited, “[m]artial virtue, and not riches, is their invariable standard for preferment.”¹⁵ A youth did not rid him- self of his boy’s name and receive his man’s name until he had killed an enemy.¹⁶ Among the Cherokee, a successful warrior could aspire to a series of war titles, beginning with “Slave-Catcher” and ascending to “Raven,” “Man-killer,” and fi - nally “Warrior,” awarded “according to . . . the number of enemies scalps they bring home.” Until achieving this fi rst title, however, youths were referred to only as “Gun-Men or Boys” and had to attend chiefs and other higher-ranking men as servants while on hunting or war expeditions.¹⁷ In addition to receiving military titles, warriors also acquired permanent tattoos marking their achieve- ments.¹⁸ Such titles and markings were only available to men and therefore sig- naled a diff erentiation between youths and adult men, as well as between men and women. In this respect, warfare established a hierarchy among men and delineated distinctions in both age and gender in southeastern societies.¹⁹ Success in warfare was important to the society for a number of reasons. Each town needed to be able to defend itself against its enemies and gained status when it was able to vanquish a foe. Th e taking of captives allowed the clans to replace lost members or to avenge their deaths through torture.²⁰ Fur- thermore, the taking of life itself was spiritually powerful, and military success demonstrated that a warrior had achieved mastery of otherworldly forces and the approval of powerful spiritual entities.²¹ Military prowess refl ected both personal and community spiritual health and success. Th erefore, planned mil- 56 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare itary expeditions were always preceded by extended religious ceremonies in which the warriors prepared themselves spiritually for what would follow. In the early eighteenth century, a French observer noted that before setting out, a Choctaw war party would observe an eight-day ceremony of dancing, fasting, and the use of emetics.²² In the 1773, the German settler and offi cial surveyor general for the southern district William Gerard DeBrahm remarked that among the Cherokee, before any “warlike Expedition,” “[t]he Conjuror pre- pares the whole Troop with medicinal Decoctions of Roots, and reduces them by fasting.”²³ Adair reported that failure to observe faithfully all of the proper religious ceremonies would lead to misfortune and that “[t]hey reckon the lead- er’s impurity to be the chief occasion of bad success.”²⁴ Victory, conversely, was a marker of a man’s religious virtue and spiritual power. Th e strong emphasis on prowess in warfare in native societies often be- came exaggerated in British assessments of their native neighbors. Offi cials and travelers alike repeatedly portrayed Indian men as bloodthirsty savages who relished killing and destroying. John Lawson claimed that for Indians “to live in Peace, is to live out of their Element, War, Conquest, and Murder, being what they delight in, and value themselves for.”²⁵ Some years later, Georgia agent to the Creek Patrick Mackay asserted that natives were “[s]o intoxicated wt the principle of revenge, yt they delight in going constantly to warr against those yt Injure them, or rather they hunt their enemeies as they doe any other prey.”²⁶ Such comments vilifi ed native men, reducing their military culture to one based on a twisted “delight” in killing and a tendency to treat enemies as less than human. In reality, southeastern Indians probably were more ambivalent about war- fare than the warrior culture the British observed indicates. Fred Gearing has noted that “war was referred to in terms which, to Western observers at least, connoted negative feelings: when hostilities broke out, the path became dark, dirty, bloody.”²⁷ James Adair wrote: “Th e Indians are not fond of waging war with each other, unless prompted by some of the traders: when left to them- selves, they consider with the greatest exactness and foresight, all the attend- ing circumstances of war.”²⁸ Th ere is disagreement among scholars about the degree of destructiveness of precontact Indian warfare. Some historians and anthropologists have maintained that before the arrival of Europeans, native warfare was relatively nonlethal, emphasizing ritualized battle or small- scale raiding. Th e introduction of European ways of war and European technology produced far higher casualty rates. Others, particularly the anthropologist Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 57 Laurence Keeley, have argued that nonstate societies engage in warfare more frequently, and with higher per-capita casualty rates, than state societies.²⁹ Re- gardless of whether Indians delighted in war or not, and of whether Indian fi ghting was more deadly than European warfare or not, as a “red force” warfare was a crucial marker of masculine identity. Englishmen were also somewhat ambivalent regarding the meaning of war. Seventeenth- and eighteenth-century literature frequently “expressed real pride in real military virtues,” and military commanders were often lionized. Cour- age under fi re was a critical aspect of manly honor. At other times, however, writers might react to confl ict with “pity and indignation,” and medieval ideas that war was a test of participants’ Christian faith or a punishment for mis- deeds survived well into the early modern era. Sometimes both notions were expressed together. Regardless of the interpretation placed on war, many Eu- ropeans at this time considered intermittent warfare to be inevitable and in- escapable. Th eirs was also at its core a military civilization.³⁰ Further, English society had become increasingly militarized during the seventeenth century. Armies expanded during the English Civil War and again toward the end of the century in response to renewed confl ict with France during the reign of Louis XIV.³¹ In the New World, this phenomenon became exaggerated. Th e colonies began as military ventures, and early expeditions included profes- sional soldiers, who were expected to train the rest of the men to fi ght and defend the new settlements.³² Settlers worried about domestic safety and se- curity and managed their towns as “armed encampments on a hostile frontier,” requiring men to serve on patrols or in the militia and to keep fi rearms at home in case of attack.³³ In the eighteenth century in Europe, martial culture underwent a signifi - cant change, and the military became increasingly professionalized, creating a cadre of professional soldiers and offi cers removed from the general popula- tion, which was less involved in military actions than previously.³⁴ In the New World, however, militias and other irregular troops continued to serve as the primary defense force.³⁵ Th e vulnerability of the colonies because of impe- rial contests and the proximity of Indian communities probably increased the importance of warfare as a measure of manhood in English colonial societies. In the Lower South, the presence of an enslaved black majority by 1708 only heightened colonial fears. Contemporary observers noted the more expansive nature of military service in the southern colonies. Th omas Nairne avowed proudly in 1710: 58 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare It is not here as in England, where an ordinary Mechanic thinks him- self too good to be a Soldier. Every one among us is versed in Arms, from the Governour to the meanest Servant, and are all so far from thinking it below them, that most People take Delight in military Aff airs, and think no body so fi t to defend their Properties as themselves. We have the same Opinion of Arms as the Romans, and other free People, generally had, and believe them to be best intrusted with those who have the greatest Interest.³⁶

In a society in which nearly universal military service was essential (at least in the early decades), martial courage became increasingly important to colonial notions of manhood. Because warfare was such a substantial part of both British and native so- ciety, and because success in combat played such an important role in defi ning masculinity, military engagement of one kind or another was bound to become a critical part of both the friendly and antagonistic relationships that devel- oped in the region after the arrival of English settlers. In fact, before settlement even began, the Carolina Proprietors anticipated the need for native allies to stave off the potential threat of enemies and ordered the colonists to provide goods to “ye Indian Cassiques to purchase their friendshipp & allyance.”³⁷ Th e new colony was exceptionally weak and vulnerable in its early years and would need help securing English claims against Spanish and native opposition. Th e Proprietors’ precautions were not in vain, and as early as the summer of 1670 a group of Spanish-allied Indians threatened the new settlement. In response, the council “sent out a p’ty of our Indians with two of our own people to dis- couer their Camp” and eventually succeeded in driving them off .³⁸ Some tribes were equally willing to seek out the English as allies because of the promise of trade goods (especially fi rearms) and assistance against traditional enemies.³⁹ Some tribes, though, adopted a more hostile stance, allying with other tribes (or the Spanish) to resist encroachments on their lands. In 1671, the English were complaining that the Cusabo were stealing corn and “threaten[ing] the lives of all or any of our people . . . and invad[ing] some of our plantations in the night time.”⁴⁰ Continued hostilities over the years would necessitate the de- velopment of a more regular plan of defense. Th e English based their military strategies at least in part on the muster- ing of allied Indians. In 1673, having received information that the Westo had committed a number of “murders” on the frontiers, the council agreed to raise a Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 59 party of Englishmen and Esaugh Indians to pursue the Westo.⁴¹ Th is practice quickly became an institutionalized part of Carolina’s frontier defense system. Th e South Carolina Assembly at various times approved watches at strategic places, each to be staff ed by both Englishmen and Indians. In one typical in- stance in 1707, the legislature agreed to support several outposts on the fron- tiers, each to be guarded by “One white man and two Indians.”⁴² What life was like at these forts is unclear, but English and native men clearly found ways to work together in maintaining these sites and must have come to rely on one another for their safety and very survival. Furthermore, the English re- lied heavily on native allies during any expedition against Indian or European enemies. Th e best- known joint military expeditions of the fi rst fi fty years were James Moore’s 1702 and 1704 expeditions against the Florida missions and John Barnwell’s 1711 and James Moore Jr.’s 1712 forays against the Tuscaroras. Although failing to meet English expectations in some respects (St. Augustine was never destroyed, and Barnwell had diffi culty retaining his native allies and failed to gain the surrender of the Tuscarora fort), both confl icts ended in what can be considered partial English victories.⁴³ Th e expeditions can therefore be understood as successful episodes of intercultural military cooperation. For the British, the fact that Indians could be “brought together with little or no Charge” to the colony was one of the benefi ts of employing them.⁴⁴ Na- tive warriors required only arms and ammunition, food and perhaps alcohol, and the right to any plunder or captives they might take. To demonstrate the fi nancial advantage that using Indian allies rather than colonial militias might off er, in 1739 General Oglethorpe raised a force of colonists and native war- riors to attack St. Augustine. For the expedition, the South Carolina Assembly approved a total of 83,816 for pay and provisions for roughly four hundred white men and only 9,885 for around a thousand Indians. While the salary for a private foot soldier came to 12 per month (not including provisions), an Indian need only be supplied with goods worth a total of 7.20 (plus provi- sions) for the entire six months projected for the expedition.⁴⁵ Th e British were ambivalent about their reliance on native allies for de- fense. Some boasted of the success of British relations with the natives, count- ing the Indians as assets. In 1710, Th omas Nairne reported that the Indians were “reckon’d a very considerable Part of our Strength, for there being some thousands of these, who are hardy, active, and good Marksmen, excellent at an Ambuscade.”⁴⁶ John Lawson wrote that the British had “an entire Friendship with the neighbouring Indians of several Nations, which are a very warlike 60 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare People, ever faithful to the English, and have prov’d themselves brave and true on all Occasions; and are a great Help and Strength to this Colony.”⁴⁷ On the other hand, however, English dependence upon Indian warriors for the defense of the settlements highlighted the weakness of the colonies in a way that could not help but produce insecurity. English offi cials began to worry that their allies, noting their weakness, would grow to despise them.⁴⁸ As early as 1670, William Owen worried that if the English refused to attack the Span- ish in St. Augustine (because of the peace then in place in Europe between En- gland and Spain), “we shall hazard our reputacons among our owne Indians who we must now depend vpon for they Looke vpon it something strange if we doe not goe to Wallie [] and shoote as they call it, that they may come along.”⁴⁹ In 1677, the Proprietors warned that regular militia drills were es- sential “that ye Indians may have oppinion if yu are attacqued yu know how to defend yor selves and to repay Injuries.”⁵⁰ British dependency was of long du- ration, and the scenario might be replayed again and again for each new settle- ment. In 1735, Georgia offi cial Patrick Mackay highlighted the danger of this state of aff airs, complaining that the Indians were “a Self- conceited people, and very apt to think Europeans are aff raid of them.”⁵¹ Th e French experienced similar diffi culties. Louisiana governor Étienne Périer was more articulate than many British offi cials in expressing his frustra- tion with French weakness and dependency. “Th eir insolence has been allowed to increase to such an extent that one part of them despises us as people who are not accustomed to war,” he complained of Louisiana’s allies. Th e Indians, he said, “think we use them only because we are not capable of making war. . . . Th e least little nation thinks itself our protector.” Th is attitude was particularly galling to French offi cials because it was largely true. Périer, piqued, wrote that the Indians themselves were “the most cowardly of all men.” To reverse the per- ception and reality of French dependence, he recommended that the metropol- itan government send troops, who could in turn train the populace to fi ght, ar- guing, “It is certain that with our small number we would have nothing to fear from the Indians if our soldiers and our settlers were more accustomed to war.” He concluded that “it will only be after we have boxed the ears of the Indians that we shall make them what they ought to be.”⁵² Th e British also could not ignore the potential military threat posed by the sheer number of native people around them, whether allied or hostile. Offi - cials demonstrated this concern by conducting informal censuses of neighbor- ing nations and villages, counting especially “fi ghting men.” John Lawson wrote Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 61 in 1709 that “there appears to be one thousand six hundred and twelve Fight- ing Men, of our Neighbouring Indians; and probably, there are three Fifths of Women and Children, not including Old Men, which amounts to four thou- sand and thirty Savages.”⁵³ Underneath such counting lay fear. As late as 1774, James Habersham wrote to his sister Mary Bagwith of the potential outbreak of war with the Creek, noting that the Creek were “a neighboring nation of Savages, who are very numerous, and at least have two eff ective men to our one.” He added, “In all events a war with these Savages, is the most calamitous circumstance that can befall us by the hands of men, as we are by no means in a condition to resent their cruel and barberous Insults, and have not one of the Kings troops to assist us.”⁵⁴ Regardless of whether the British fought together with or in opposition to Indian warriors, military engagements gave each side the opportunity to ob- serve the other’s military tactics. Such encounters very often led to misunder- standings and resulted in negative evaluations of one another’s culture.⁵⁵ Na- tive warfare contrasted starkly with its European counterpart, especially by the late seventeenth century when the English arrived in the Southeast. Although there is evidence that sixteenth- century Mississippian societies might engage in large- scale battles in open fi elds or even lay siege to fortifi ed settlements, southeastern societies found that these methods were less eff ective against Europeans equipped with fi rearms, and they increasingly resorted to other time-honored tactics like ambushes and small-scale raiding.⁵⁶ Th is adaptation, while allowing them to engage Europeans more eff ectively, was in some ways a double- edged sword. To the British, ambushes, surprise attacks, and wood- land warfare appeared cowardly and uncivilized (although they readily adopted some of these techniques themselves). Settlers were quick to condemn native tactics, and a regularized language maligning Indian warfare quickly emerged. As early as 1674, Abraham Wood reported that “Indian vallour consists most in theire heeles for he that can run best is accounted ye best man.”⁵⁷ Patrick Mac- kay found it curious that “when by Surprise a gang of 20 or 30 kills one of their enemies, they run day and night, tho they know of noe enemie nigh them, til they think they are out of danger.”⁵⁸ Th e French had an equally low opinion of native martial abilities. Diron D’Artaguiette concluded that “they do not know how to stand up to [a] long battle,” adding, “It is the French who are true men and who do not fear to die.”⁵⁹ Such analysis often led the British to underesti- Indian enemies. Th e most repulsive aspect of Indian warfare for British observers involved 62 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare the torture of captives. Traditions of torture long preceded European arrival in the region and persisted until the end of the eighteenth century, making them one of the more unchanging aspects of native warfare. Th e British universally reacted negatively to these customs, and the rhetoric regarding what the Brit- ish considered “savagery” changed little over the years. At the same time, fear of the horrors of torture motivated the British to avoid warfare with the Indians whenever possible, in order to spare colonists the horrors of native “atrocities.” Torture also supplied the British grounds to justify their own brutal eff orts to subjugate southeastern nations, based on the natives’ presumed lack of civiliza- tion. “Th eir Cruelty to their Prisoners of War is what they are seemingly guilty of an Error in, (I mean as to a natural Failing),” Lawson reported, “because they strive to invent the most inhumane Butcheries for them, that the Devils them- selves could invent, or hammer out of Hell.”⁶⁰ (British authors conveniently overlooked the harsh punishments meted out to runaway servants or slaves or convicted criminals, which included fl ogging, branding, dismembering, and death by hanging, all of which could also be considered torture.)⁶¹ An Indian warrior was supposed to show great fortitude under torture, singing and mocking his tormenters “with an insulting manly voice” and “de- scribing his own martial deeds against them.”⁶² Europeans captured by south- eastern tribes found themselves faced with similar expectations. Some who were familiar with native custom could perform as expected. Th e Chickasaw captured a group of French soldiers and a Jesuit priest in 1737, and Chickasaw women subsequently burned them alive. An woman who soon there- after escaped from the Chickasaw reported that the “Frenchmen sang, since it is the custom of the Indians, who only judge the bravery of a warrior by the stronger or weaker sound of his voice at the moment that they kill him,” earn- ing the respect of their torturers.⁶³ Other Europeans who failed to withstand the torment with bravado received ridicule and condemnation. South Caro- lina offi cials were incensed at the behavior of several Cherokee warriors, who not only attacked and killed two Englishmen at the town of Oconee in 1751 but then mocked “the last dying Words of the white People whom they had murdered . . . such as O, Lord! O, Lord, have Mercy upon us!” Governor James Glen wrote a bitter letter to the town of Keowee, complaining that the Chero- kee had not only murdered these innocent English settlers but had “boasted of that base and barbarous Action insolently imitiating [sic] by Way of Diverson the dying Groans and Words of these white Men.”⁶⁴ As far as the Cherokee were concerned, however, these men deserved their contempt and derision for having failed to behave as men and warriors. Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 63 Such views may well have infl uenced native decisions about whether to de- clare war on their new neighbors or to form alliances with them. Th e perceived cowardice and weakness of many British men earned the disgust of natives, who often underestimated the actual military might of the British. British de- pendence on native people for military assistance, especially in the fi rst few de- cades of settlement, doubtless led many to consider their new allies to be less threatening than they actually were. Successive groups that waged war against the English—the Cusabo, Westo, Savannah, Tuscarora, and Yamasee—all may have thought that they stood a good chance of gaining ground in their confl icts against the settlers (and might have done so had it not been for England’s other native allies). Certainly, though, men who depended on others to do their fi ght- ing for them must have struck native men as rather sorry warriors. Native people’s negative assessment of the British was probably exacerbated by the fact that native societies did not diff erentiate between civilians and war- riors as the British did. Th ey judged British military character based on the be- havior not only of soldiers but of civilians and found those men greatly want- ing in fortitude. In the earlier years when most men needed to serve in the militia, this distinction would have been less obvious. As time went on and as the colonies became more stable, though, less emphasis was placed on militia service and constant readiness. Although the colonies continued to rely more upon citizen- soldiers than the mother country did, by the mid- eighteenth cen- tury signifi cant numbers of men with limited military experience resided in the territory. In 1757, Attakullakulla claimed that “the White People were not so well accustomed to go into the Woods as them,” meaning that the British were not as adept at woodland warfare as the Cherokee.⁶⁵ James Adair noted that the Creek had lost respect for the British over the years. “Formerly,” he claimed, “the traders like so many British tars, kept them in proper awe, and consequently prevented them from attempting any mischief. But since the pat- ented race of Daublers set foot in their land, they have gradually become worse every year, murdering valuable innocent British subjects at pleasure: and when they go down, they receive presents as a tribute of fear, for which these Indians upbraid, and threaten us.”⁶⁶ Th e British habit of awarding commissions based on class rather than ability only added to the problem. Because the colonies lacked an elite with inherited titles of nobility, military titles became the only ones available and consequently were coveted by aspiring elites.⁶⁷ Although in the early years the necessity for constant preparedness for war meant that most offi cers had considerable mar- tial experience, by the latter part of the eighteenth century the social value of 64 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare militia rank had come to outweigh other considerations. Natives found this phenomenon repulsive. Adair reported that the Indians held the opinion that the British sold “to the highest bidder” all “high titles of war,” rather than be- stowing them on those who had shown the greatest courage in battle. “[T]hey had seen,” Adair reported, “several young, lazy, deformed white men, with big bellies, who seemed to require as much help to move them along, as overgrown old women; yet they understood these were paid a great deal of our beloved yel- low stone for bearing the great name of warriors, which should be kept sacred from the eff eminate tribe.”⁶⁸ To most southeastern Indian men, the concept of military titles as marks of patronage rather than earned merit was repugnant and marked many British “warriors” as no better than “old women.” Because of these cultural diff erences in tactics and views regarding military service and leadership, even situations in which colonists and natives fought together as allies were ripe for misunderstandings that could jeopardize mili- tary ventures and the alliances on which they were based. Each side followed diff erent rules of engagement, and their methods often clashed, leading to hard feelings. James Oglethorpe’s 1740 expedition against St. Augustine provides a useful case in point that highlights both intercultural cooperation and the misunderstandings that could arise. On May 9, 1740, Oglethorpe departed for the Spanish frontier with as many 220 white men from his own regiment, 125 South Carolina volunteers, and 103 Indians (including 9 Creek, the rest being Cherokee).⁶⁹ Th e total number of Indians fl uctuated when small parties ar- rived during the campaign to join up, while others chose to leave. South Caro- lina estimates placed the total number of Indians at no less than two hundred, perhaps more. Th e Indian forces played a visible and important role in the tak- ing of both Fort Diego and Fort Moosa and were a constant and notable pres- ence throughout the expedition.⁷⁰ Th e expedition failed to capture the Span- ish capital, and the British therefore deemed it a failure, but it did considerable damage to the Florida frontiers, to which native warriors contributed substan- tially. In spite of Oglethorpe’s desire to have Indian forces accompanying him and his considerable reliance on them, misunderstandings soon arose. Th omas Jones, himself part Creek, served as “Linguister” (translator) for the Creek and Euchee. Oglethorpe instructed Jones’s party “to keep out constantly scouting round the Country . . . to watch the Enemy’s Motion and to endeavour to take some Prisoners, but positively enjoined him not to permit the Indians to de- stroy any Houses.” Jones warned the general that the Indians “would soon Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 65 be tired with that Way of proceeding, for that they loved to go and do their Business at once and return Home again.” Oglethorpe replied that any who wished to leave might do so.⁷¹ In this case, native and British tactics did not correspond, leaving the Creek frustrated and confused. Accustomed to strik- ing quickly before they could be discovered and then making good their escape, Creek warriors could not understand the weeks wasted “skulking” around in the woods capturing horses and cattle and little else. Th e Cherokee found Brit- ish behavior equally exasperating. Although they were allowed to scout and to capture Spanish livestock, Oglethorpe prohibited his Indian allies from kill- ing or eating the cattle or selling the horses. Cherokee headman Caesar com- plained that “it was a strange Th ing that they were permitted to kill the Span- iards but not their Beef, and threatened to carry all his Men Home.”⁷² Further, both the Creek and the Cherokee questioned British tactics of suspending the siege to allow passing of diplomats under a fl ag of truce and of allowing “pris- oners of distinction return to the fort to put the rest on their guard.” Many feared the British had “decoyed them down to be slaughtered.”⁷³ Th e most serious misunderstanding of the expedition occurred on the island of Anastasia. A group of Chickasaw warriors crossed over to the main- land and succeeded in killing a Spanish-allied Indian. Th ey brought his head back to Oglethorpe as a trophy, probably expecting a scalp bounty or some similar reward. Accounts diff er as to Oglethorpe’s precise response, although all agree that Oglethorpe refused to accept the head. South Carolinian Wil- liam Stead reported that the general called the off er of the trophy “Barbarity.”⁷⁴ Captain Richard Wright of the South Carolina Regiment stated in his depo- sition that Oglethorpe had in fact “called the Indians barbarous or cruel Dogs, and bid them begone, in much Anger refusing to accept the Head.”⁷⁵ Stead also claimed that the Squirrel King was “very much disgusted” and complained that “if he was to carry one of our Heads to the Governour of Augustine he should have been used by him like a Man, as he had been now used by the General like a Dog.”⁷⁶ Wright added that after this incident, the Chickasaw refused to join Oglethorpe when he left the island for the mainland and that it took South Carolina militia offi cer Lieutenant Dunbar and trader William Gray several days to convince them to rejoin the expedition.⁷⁷ Th e Squirrel King’s complaint about his treatment by Oglethorpe reveals that conceptions of masculinity lay at the very heart of joint military engage- ments. Allies sought to demonstrate both their friendship and their worth as men. When diff erences in protocol or tactics emerged, each side questioned 66 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare the honor of the other. Because honor, as demonstrated in combat, was so closely tied to manhood, questioning one implied impugning the other. When Oglethorpe rejected the Chickasaw’s trophy, he inadvertently demonstrated that he did not consider their chief to be a man and a warrior. His error endan- gered the success of the entire campaign. Th e St. Augustine expedition illustrated the extent to which joint military expeditions had become an accepted part of southeastern military culture. Re- gional warfare was almost always both multinational and multiethnic. In plan- ning the expedition, Oglethorpe never considered the possibility of not en- listing his Indian allies as part of his fi ghting forces. He also fully expected his Spanish opponents to do the same. Nevertheless, even after nearly seventy years of contact, neither the British nor their native allies had fi gured out how to avoid cultural misunderstandings. Instead, as time went on, each side devel- oped a rhetoric to defend its own notions of manhood as it related to military service against criticisms or outright insults brought by the other.

“I Am a Man and a Warrior”: In Defense of Native Manhood

On December 17, 1756, two Overhills Cherokee headmen, Attakullakulla (known to the British as the Little Carpenter) of the town of Chote and Woolenawa of Tanassee went to Fort Loudoun to talk with its commander, Captain Ray- mond Demere, and John Stuart, the provincial forces commander (and future superintendent for Indian aff airs).⁷⁸ After sharing a dinner to which the two Cherokee brought some venison, the men sat down to discuss the actions of a third headman, the Mankiller of Chote, who had gone to visit the French at Fort Toulouse in hope of concluding an alliance. Attakullakulla denied that he had anything to do with the Mankiller’s actions and announced his plans to go to Charles Town to meet with the governor, adding that he would see if the king remembered him from his trip to England in 1730. With this refer- ence, Attakullakulla reminded his hearers of his longstanding friendship with the British and his recognition by the king himself as a loyal friend. Stuart was immune to such pleasantries. He demanded to know if Attakullakulla had or- dered the Mankiller to go to the French. Off ended, Attakullakulla “asked if he [Stuart] did not look upon him as a Man and a Warrior.” Indeed, Attakul- lakulla asserted, “I am not a Boy . . . but the Head Man of this Nation.” He re- affi rmed his authority among the Cherokee and his honesty and friendship, and he challenged Stuart to prove him a liar.⁷⁹ Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 67 Attakullakulla’s defense against Stuart’s imperious questions and insulting insinuations is in many ways representative of a diplomatic rhetoric of man- hood that emerged in the second third of the eighteenth century as a product of long years of British and Indian coexistence. He was, he asserted, a “man” and a “warrior.” Native men frequently referred to themselves using one con- cept or the other and often used both together. James Adair noted that to call someone “a man and a warrior . . . is as great an encomium, as they can be- stow on any mortal.”⁸⁰ British offi cials and native headmen gradually devel- oped a specialized language intended to assert their manhood on an interna- tional stage. Th e rhetoric posited a particular type of elite masculinity, based on military accomplishment, personal courage, integrity, and authority. Leaders adopted this kind of terminology to advance specifi c goals, the accomplishment of which often depended upon the degree of respect they could demand from the opposing side. Th e rhetoric drew largely on native conceptions of manhood that linked masculinity, military accomplishment, and leadership. Th e British would adopt native terminology diplomatically, but in their own ways and to their own purposes. By midcentury, both colonial offi cials and chiefs regularly used a formalized language based on these conceptions. Th e rhetoric of martial ability, then, provided a kind of common ground used to advance diplomatic aims. By using a shared language of manhood and war, natives and Englishmen sought to create mutual understanding, achieving respect for themselves and adding weight to the requests they made of one another. Each party, however, had its own understanding of what manhood and warrior status meant, and they used such terms in slightly diff erent ways. To understand the development of this rhetoric, it is necessary to start with the way it was used in native society. Military accomplishment was generally a prerequisite for political leadership in native society, which helps to explain the link that native leaders drew between their own character as headmen and their military ability. Because martial prowess was so closely associated with spiritual power, success in warfare proved that a man was virtuous and capable of taking on greater responsibilities.⁸¹ In meeting with British offi cials, head- men proclaimed their leadership qualities by asserting their warrior status. In 1751, Sachetche of Tuskaseegee (Cherokee) introduced himself as “head Man of Tucosigia, and of several Upper Towns.” His leadership was certain, he in- sisted, even “though I am but a young Man,” because “I have been at War.”⁸² A few years later Skiagunsta of Keowee claimed that his leadership should be considered more authoritative than that of some of the other headmen pres- 68 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare ent because, he asserted, “I have been a Warriour long before them . . . and still could go to War if Occasion required.”⁸³ In the eyes of both headmen, their military service demonstrated their capacity for leadership. Further, a specialized language of insult already existed in the international diplomatic culture of the native Southeast, and it shaped the emergence and employment of the rhetorical link between manhood and military ability. Th e primary way to degrade a war leader (or any accomplished fi ghter) in native society was to deny that he was a warrior, especially by likening him to some- one in the society who was not a warrior (a boy, a woman, or, later, a eunuch).⁸⁴ Th is rhetoric is some of the oldest that the English recorded in the Southeast. John Stewart reported that in 1706, he had seen a Choctaw warrior who out- ran his enemies, “then ‘in derision’ berated his pursuers as ‘women, children, and chicken cowardly- hearted felons.’ ”⁸⁵ Stewart witnessed another warrior, suff ering torture, utilizing similar insults as part of the ritualized bravado ex- pected under such circumstances: “he informed his tormentors that they were ‘less than women and boys,’ ” and had only captured him because of luck and not because of their “ ‘courage and manhood.’ ”⁸⁶ Th e rhetoric Stewart observed is somewhat noteworthy because it mixes insults (calling mature men both boys and women). Most men chose one trope or the other, depending on what point they wished to make. In both cases, however, they proclaimed the man thus labeled to be one who is not a warrior. Determining when and why native men began referring to one another as women (or boys) is impossible. Some historians have suggested that British uses of the term woman infl uenced Indian metaphors, turning positive valua- tions of Indian women (in a matrilineal society in which women had consider- able infl uence) into a negative metaphor.⁸⁷ Certainly, European men of various nations used a similar rhetoric, which resulted in the phenomenon of Euro- pean and native men calling one another women.⁸⁸ An indigenous origin is suggested, however, by the earlier practice of mutilating the bodies of dead en- emies in ways that emasculated them. As early as the 1560s, the French chron- icler de Morgues reported that the neighboring in Florida “never left the place of battle without piercing the mutilated corpses of their enemies right through the anus with an arrow,” thereby symbolically sod- omizing them. Richard Trexler has demonstrated that male-on- male sexual violence was a common part of warfare in many New World societies. Turn- ing an enemy into a “passive” recipient of penetration was an important way of asserting military and political supremacy. Th e ability to assert sexual domi- nance, to force submission on the part of an enemy warrior, proclaimed the su- Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 69 perior masculinity of the victors and degraded the vanquished.⁸⁹ Th is practice continued well into the historic period. Having captured a number of French and Indian prisoners in a 1736 campaign, the Chickasaw took some of the In- dian captives, tied them to a stake, then “heated barrell’s of Guns and thrust them into their private parts” before burning them to death.⁹⁰ By mutilating their enemies’ genitalia, the Chickasaws proclaimed to them that they were not men. Some decades later, Bernard Romans reported that the Chickasaw were known to practice sodomy “on the dead bodies of their enemies, thereby (as they say) degrading them into women.”⁹¹ Sexual violence was not limited to men’s bodies, although the message was still one that proclaimed the impotence of male enemies. During the Tuscarora War in North Carolina in 1711, Christopher Gale wrote of warriors’ postmor- tem mutilation of their victims. Th e Tuscarora shot one British settler, an el- derly man named Nevill, and left him on the fl oor with “his wife’s head- clothes put upon his head,” clearly demonstrating their contempt for his manhood. Th ey placed his son in the yard with a bunch of rosemary by his nose, con- veying the same message (the gathering of herbs was a woman’s occupation). Th ey set Nevill’s wife upon her knees as if in prayer, with “her coats turned up over her head,” mocking Christian religious practices in a most shocking manner and implying the weakness of the Englishmen’s God. Other women in neighboring homes they laid out on the fl oor with “great stakes run up through their bodies.”⁹² Th e treatment of women’s bodies suggested sexual violation, while also demonstrating that the men had failed to protect their families. Th e message would have been unmistakable, proclaiming the complete rupture be- tween the Tuscarora and the British and the utter contempt the Indians felt for British manhood. Regardless of the origins, native men made consistent use of the language of insult throughout the eighteenth century, with relatively little variation. Th e rhetoric was generally wielded strategically in order to eff ect certain re- sults. Used within a society, degrading terms served to shame male members into proper behavior or to undermine political opponents. Externally, insults could be assertions of warrior bravado (as in the cases Stewart observed), or they might be used in diplomatic situations to protest the bad behavior of an ally or to thwart peace negotiations. Regardless of whether the language was used with friends or enemies, it was intended to motivate behavior the speaker deemed favorable, to penalize negative behavior, or to promote the speaker’s own standing at the expense of a rival or opponent. Insults could serve as powerful motivators. Native headmen might refer to 70 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare their own warriors as women to convince the men to fi ght. Greeting his war- riors as they returned from a campaign in which they had lost several of their party, Coweta (Lower Creek) chief Old Brim encouraged the warriors not to lose heart. “Such things as them must hapen to you,” Brim told them, “or you would Be noe Warriours for if Men Should always goe out To Warr against Enemies and never loose any men then old Women would be good Warriours.” He then urged them to continue the war.⁹³ Some years later, the Choctaw chief Minggo Humma Echeto reminded the young men that “it was the part of brave warriors to keep awake, and not dream like old women.” His rhetoric was ef- fective, and he persuaded several “to follow him against the enemy.”⁹⁴ In both cases, headmen used rhetoric to encourage the young men into military activ- ity, seemingly with considerable success. Impugning the masculinity of another man could be used as a diplomatic tool to try to compel a change in policy. In 1737, the Chickasaw chief Mingo Ouma warned the Cherokee to expel the Natchez refugees they had allowed to live among them, “threatening that if they did not do it he regarded them as women and that they would weep [for it].”⁹⁵ Th e insult, and the threat, could not have been clearer, and Mingo Ouma hoped that it would compel the Cher- okee to do as he desired. In 1756, Attakullakulla lambasted Captain Raymond Demere for his failure to keep his word in providing soldiers to accompany Attakullakulla to Chote, calling him a liar. As a parting shot, Attakullakulla added, as Demere noted, that “when he fi rst came here he took me [Demere] to be a very great Warriour but now he looked on me to be no more then a little Boy.”⁹⁶ Attakullakulla doubtless hoped that by shaming Demere, he could compel him to honor his promises. Insults also served as a tactic to derail diplomatic negotiations. In 1751 the Nottoway Indians refused to make peace with the Catawba despite British ef- forts to bring one about. Th e Nottoway maintained that they had formerly de- sired peace, but the Catawba had replied to their friendly advances by assert- ing that the Catawba “had two Conveniencies [penises], one for their Women, and one for us, and that they were Men and Warriours since which Time we are at War, and are of one Mind never to have Peace with them.”⁹⁷ In 1771 the peace process between the Chickasaw, Arkansas, and Quapaw broke down when some of the Chickasaw “insult[ed] one of the Quapa deputies by calling him a woman, and spitting rum in his face.” Although the deputy “put up with” the insult at the time, the Arkansas never completed the treaty.⁹⁸ In one unusual episode, the Creek used a gendered insult to try to gain Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 71 ground in multilateral treaty negotiations by undercutting Cherokee ability for independent diplomatic action. William Bartram related that during the im- portant Augusta treaty convention the Creek, incensed that the Cherokee had signed away a portion of their jointly held hunting grounds, called the Cherokee chiefs “old women” and maintained that the Creek had long ago “obliged them to wear the petticoat.” Th is reference, Bartram recorded, was “a most humiliat- ing and degrading stroke,” delivered in front of delegations of Creek, Cherokee, Chickasaw, and British offi cials of several colonies, “amidst the laugh and jeers of the assembly.”⁹⁹ Interpreting this event is problematic. Th ere is no evidence that the Creek had defeated the Cherokee during the Creek- Cherokee wars of previous de- cades or that the two nations had reached an agreement in which the Cherokee would take on a female role, as the Iroquois and the Delaware appear to have done, and so the basis for the Creek insult is unclear.¹⁰⁰ Nevertheless, by as- signing the Cherokee the status of women, the Creek denied the ability of the Cherokee to make treaties independently or, more important, to convey jointly held land. Among the Creek and Cherokee alike in the mid- eighteenth cen- tury, women did not sign treaties selling land.¹⁰¹ Th e Creek thereby called into question the legitimacy of the cession itself. Th ey further demonstrated their own conception of which tribe had the strongest claim to leadership in the Southeast by claiming that they had “obliged them to wear the petticoat.” Referring to a man as either a boy or a woman generally had similar mean- ing, denying that he was a warrior. When in 1759 British offi cials stripped At- takullakulla of his presents because he and his followers left the siege of Fort Duquesne before the stronghold fell, Attakullakulla sent word to his friends in the nation that “his arms had been taken from him, that he was like a Child & no man.”¹⁰² Clearly, for Attakullakulla, the ability to acquit himself well as a warrior and to possess weapons was intimately tied up in his own conception of himself as a man. British punishment for his “desertion” dishonored him and denied him the respect due to a brave fi ghter. Whether British offi cials realized it or not, they had enacted a shaming tactic sometimes used within for unsuccessful military leaders. James Adair reported that a war chief who lost several warriors in an engagement could be demoted, his village tak- ing away “his drum, war- whistle, and martial titles, and debasing him to his boy name.”¹⁰³ However, calling a man a boy could also imply a lack of matu- rity, especially when directed at a headman, and served to deny a man the right to political leadership. In 1753, Skiagunsta of Keowee rejected the leadership 72 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare of the headmen of the Overhills towns, insisting that “the Warriours over the Hills . . . are but Boys,” claiming that they “talked madly.” He asserted his own superior age and wisdom in rejecting their talks and proclaiming his friend- ship to the British.¹⁰⁴ Th ere was a worse insult that could be leveled at men in native society. By the 1750s, the most derisive term was eunuch. In 1765, Tomatly Mingo, head- man of Ceneacha (Choctaw), advised West Florida offi cials that it was essen- tial that they restrain the traders, “who often Treat our Warriours with Inde- cent Language they often call them Eunuchs (Ubacktubac) which is the most opprobrious Term that can be used in our Language.”¹⁰⁵ If the traders did not behave, Tomatly Mingo added, he could not be held responsible for the conse- quences. Adair noted, “Th e most opprobious [sic], indelible epithet, with which one Indian can possibly brand another, is to call him in public company, Hoo- buk Waske, Eunuchus, præputio detecto.” In fact, he added, in 1750 the Chero- kee and their northern allies had refused to make peace with the Catawba be- cause “in the time of battle, they had given them the ugly name of short-tailed eunuchs.”¹⁰⁶ Th e reason that this new insult emerged in the 1750s is unclear. Its use was most likely infl uenced by contact with Europeans. Th ere is no evi- dence that native groups ever followed a practice of deliberately castrating men (or at least not those they did not intend to torture to death), although the term must have resonated with ancient practices of postmortem mutilation and emasculation. Th e practice, however, was familiar to Europeans, although no longer widely practiced in Europe by the eighteenth century. In any case, the insult of calling a warrior a woman appears to have been older and certainly more common. Although calling a native man a woman (or a boy) was an insult, it did not necessarily represent misogyny or denigration of women and children in general. In fact, the meaning remains somewhat ambiguous. As Nancy Shoe- maker has pointed out, the term woman could have multiple meanings, some positive and some negative.¹⁰⁷ Unfortunately, the exact words used cannot be recovered because all the references were recorded in English. Modern lin- guistic tools, though, can help shed light on the diversity of meaning encom- passed in Indian rhetoric. A nineteenth- century Choctaw dictionary provides the most nuanced defi nition of the word woman (although other southeastern languages show a similar complexity), qualifying the term on the basis of age, marital status, and reputation (listings include “despised,” “fair,” “laboring,” and “mad”). Other words referring to female persons—adulteress, mother, grand- Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 73 mother, sister, slut, virgin, and wife—are also specifi ed.¹⁰⁸ Comparing a warrior to a “despised woman” would have been quite diff erent from likening him to a “grandmother,” but most of this detail is lost in English renderings. Further, the context of male speakers’ words is lost in translation, as is the cultural mean- ing attached to the analogy. Th ere is no evidence that the men intended to de- value women’s labor as agriculturalists nor their role as mothers in a matrilin- eal society. Instead, the usage was very specifi c to one aspect of women’s role in native society. Native women were generally not warriors. With the possible excep- tion of a few Cherokee war women, most Indian women did not take part in combat, nor was bravery under fi re expected of them.¹⁰⁹ Untrained in war, women were not expected to stand and fi ght, nor was their status contingent on how many enemy scalps they had taken. In fact, a woman’s scalp was val- ued less than that of a man as a war trophy because killing a woman (gener- ally considered a noncombatant) posed less of a challenge to a warrior. Bernard Romans reported that the Choctaw found killing men was “a greater mark of valour.” Unlike their enemies who had killed several of their women and chil- dren, the Choctaw claimed, “we like men, have killed men only.”¹¹⁰ Instead, warriors usually preferred to capture women alive. Because of their power as givers of life (both through their procreative abilities and their agricultural pro- ductivity), women were more likely to be adopted than killed.¹¹¹ Further, by qualifying the insult by adding an age component, referring to enemies as “old women,” native men emphasized that they were denigrating a man’s lack of mil- itary ability. Old women might be respected for their wisdom, but they were, of all members of the society, least likely to display martial skills. Not only were their foes nonwarriors, the label implied, but they were feeble. Th e same can be said about calling an enemy warrior a boy. Observers agreed that native families were aff ectionate and indulgent toward their children.¹¹² Young boys were not expected to have risen to the level of military accomplish- ment, and it was not dishonorable that boys had not yet taken scalps. Th eir time would come. However, if a mature man could not demonstrate a greater degree of maturity and courage, he would be disgraced. In sum, because women and young boys were not warriors, they were appropriate comparisons for men who did not behave with proper martial spirit. If a woman comported herself as a woman, it was honorable; if a man acted like a woman (or a child), it was not. In the context of such a well- established language of gendered insult, it is not surprising that a rhetoric of defense based on the assertion of military prow- 74 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare ess also emerged. In diplomatic encounters, headmen (like Attakullakulla) de- liberately marshaled the language of manhood and warrior status to defend their honor against insults or accusations of wrongdoing. Defending one’s man- hood often involved demonstrating that one had the courage and character to provide integrity in leadership. When natives boasted about their manhood in the presence of British offi cials, they hoped to further their diplomatic goals and increase the esteem in which British offi cials held them. Such statements con- stituted an important diplomatic tool, one that refl ected both Indian men’s self- assessment and their desire for respect from their allies and trading partners. By the 1720s if not before, native men were proclaiming their military suc- cesses as a way to respond to European insults. Such comments refl ected Indian recognition of their own military importance in the Southeast and Eu- ropean dependence. In 1729, incensed that the French commander at Mobile, Diron D’Artaguiette, had called him a woman, the Choctaw chief Red Shoes replied that “I showed him that I was a true man in the Chickasaw war by the large number of scalps and of skulls that I brought back, and at that time no one talked of anything but Red Shoe.”¹¹³ In 1735, Coweta (Lower Creek) head- man Cherekeileigie defended himself against Georgia agent Patrick Mackay’s accusation that he had betrayed the British to their Spanish enemies in St. Au- gustine and was lying about it. Cherekeileigie asserted, “I am a Mico, & Micoes Scorn to Spake lyes. I am not afraid to tell the truth.” He also reminded Mac- kay that “I gave proofes of my being a man I have fought wt them [the British] against the Tuskeroraes.”¹¹⁴ Th e statement taunted the British with their own vulnerability. Th e 1711 Tuscarora War had devastated North Carolina, and the Tuscarora had only been defeated with the help of South Carolina’s native al- lies—and both Mackay and Cherekeileigie knew it.¹¹⁵ Some years later, the Chickasaw chief Tuscaucey simply stated, “I am a Man and a Warriour and wont tell you Lyes.”¹¹⁶ For all three headmen, military success proved their worthiness as leaders and as men and should have commanded the respect of their European allies. Insults brought out assertions of warrior bravado and a defense of their manhood. Although military success was usually a prerequisite for political (and es- pecially diplomatic) leadership, the status of headman involved much more. Chiefs and other leading men had also reached a level of maturity that younger men lacked. By proclaiming manhood in these circumstances, then, headmen emphasized not just gender but age. Age in native society commanded a cer- tain degree of respect and conferred a kind of status all its own. Older men Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 75 were expected to exhibit levelheadedness and to be free from the “madness” of youth. Headmen combined the courage of warriors with the maturity of elders, and they demonstrated an ability to consider the interests of the com- munity as a whole. Mature manhood was a critical part of political leadership, and headmen felt the need to assert this status to European allies. Old age itself could serve as a testimony to a man’s integrity, because a mature leader no longer had any need to advance his own position, having already achieved his war honors as a youth. Skiagunsta of Great Tellico (Cherokee) insisted that he “is himself an old Man, and knows he has not long to live so that his Regard is not so much for his own Life, but for that of his Wife, and Children, and the young People of his Nation growing up in whose Behalf he sends this Letter.”¹¹⁷ Choctaw chief Nassuba Mingo asserted, “Formerly I was Young & hardy & went to War & changed my Sentiments by the hour,” but “since I became old I began to See the Vanity of things, & act with Stability Void of Passion.”¹¹⁸ For both Skia- gunsta and Nassuba Mingo, their advancing age had brought with it a level- headedness that they contrasted to the passion and caprice of youth.¹¹⁹ Mature men were expected to exhibit good judgment and to look out for the welfare of their villages and not behave like “mad” young men intent upon personal ag- grandizement. Th e distinction native speakers drew between youth and maturity refl ected explicit generational divisions within Indian societies. Southeastern peoples associated youth with passion and the desire to prove one’s self in battle, while expecting that age brought moderation and concern for the good of the nation as a whole. Th e anthropologist Fred Gearing has argued that for the Chero- kee, “autonomous young men were not- yet- men” and were considered “mor- ally immature.” As Gearing explains, “Th e Cherokee ethos held that old equals decent, and, as we might put it, that boys will be boys (until 55). If warriors were so defi ned, elders could shrug off the violation of council directives by war parties.”¹²⁰ Attitudes toward young men’s wild behavior seem to have been ambiva- lent. “Madness” had a particular value in native society, representing the “brav- ery and recklessness that warriors sought.” Alcohol heightened the eff ect and therefore came to be incorporated into the warrior ethic.¹²¹ Warriors needed a certain amount of “madness” to succeed in combat, which tended to reinforce the general toleration of young men’s reckless conduct. On the other hand, drunkenness and a lack of self- discipline could threaten the stability of the 76 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare nation. Th e Tuckabatchee headman Old Bracket lamented the actions of the young men of his town. He found that “they were all a Parcell of Madman, that when they were drunk they were all Men and Warriors, and [they] thought they shewed their Manhood in insulting, abusing and threatning to kill the white People, upon the Continuance of whose Friendship the Welfare of them all depended.” Th e young men’s unrestrained violence had the potential to de- prive the rest of the people of access to British trade goods and perhaps even bring British troops into Creek territory.¹²² Th e British also recognized the link between maturity and leadership in native society. Captain Raymond Demere noted that “what is called great and leading Men amongst them, are commonly old and middle-aged People.”¹²³ To some extent, Europeans shared ideas linking age, maturity, and leadership (al- though for them, class rather than military experience generally played the key role in qualifying a man for political leadership). Colonial offi cials were them- selves usually middle- aged men, a fact that cannot have escaped native notice. Native leaders tried to make strategic use of generational distinctions in relations with Europeans. Such language could be especially useful when ex- plaining attacks on European settlements or traders. Headmen often asked Eu- ropeans to overlook such actions by attributing warriors’ behavior to youth and alcohol. When a small band of Chickasaw began harassing settlers on Briar Creek and the Ogeechee River in 1757, the headmen explained apologetically that some of “their Young People sometimes were Mad with Liquor and Mis- behaved.” Th ey asked the governor’s forbearance.¹²⁴ When a “settlement Indian” named Tom and some companions killed a friendly Indian named Captain Jamie in South Carolina, King Hagler of the Catawba nation reported that the “act ha[d] been done by some bad Boys, mad with liquor,” and promised to try to prevent such occurrences in the future. Hagler minimized the impor- tance of these actions to reduce his nation’s culpability.¹²⁵ Headmen might use this rhetoric to downplay the behavior of certain fac- tions within the nation, particularly if it seemed to threaten relations. When some of the other chiefs walked out of a conference with the British at Charles Town in 1753, Coweta (Creek) chief Malatchi undertook to mollify bruised British feelings. “I am heartily sorry,” he told the governor, “that some of our People who call themselves Head Men and Warriours, should behave so like Children, but they are unacquainted with the Nature of public Business, and the true Interest of their own Nation. Th ey ought therefore to be considered as Children, and no Regard to be paid to any Th ing they have said.” In addition, Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 77 they had violated native rules of etiquette, Malatchi complained, because they “in a very rude and abrupt Manner broke in upon my Discourse without any Power or Commission from me or the Nation.”¹²⁶ By labeling the absent lead- ers childish and declaring that they did not have permission from the people to speak for them, Malatchi undermined their authority while bolstering his own. Malatchi had a commission from the British naming him “commander of the entire Creek Nation.” He possessed a lot of infl uence, and many other key headmen deferred to him, but his power was not uncontested. He frequently resisted British eff orts to acknowledge other headmen and dismissed the plans of the Upper Creek to gain recognition of their own principle chief. With op- posing headmen gone, Malachi was able to reassert his claim that he alone rep- resented the confederacy, gaining control over the negotiations and undermin- ing his rivals.¹²⁷ By midcentury, the rhetoric linking manhood and war, maturity and lead- ership, had become a regular part of native diplomacy. Headmen asserted their courage, integrity, and authority in meetings with British offi cials in order to refute colonial accusations of double- dealing or to increase their own stand- ing. In the small-scale, face-to-face negotiations that characterized southeast- ern diplomacy, such assertions of personal honor were an important part of negotiations, and the ability of a leader to command respect from both sides infl uenced his ability to gain concessions or conclude favorable agreements. Th e level of trust between competing parties could make or break an alliance. Th erefore, the rhetoric of manhood became an important diplomatic tool, wielded strategically to aff ect desired outcomes in ways both sides increasingly recognized. Perhaps the strongest testimony to the utility of this language lies in the fact that the British also adopted similar terminology, using it to their own purposes.

“The Armies of the Great King Are Strong and Mighty”: British Assertions of Manhood

In 1765, Rear Admiral Sir William Bernaby greeted a group of Creek headmen who had come to Pensacola for a congress with British offi cials. Th e meeting was the second such gathering called after the end of the French and Indian War to establish peace between the British and their native neighbors and to renegotiate the balance of power in the wake of the French defeat. Bernaby began by praising the Creek, noting that their “[n]oble feats in War, have been 78 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare so much talked of from afar.” He hoped, he said, that “[a]s they have been famed in War for their Brave actions,” they would now take the “opportunity of Shining in the State, by Causing the Paths to be made White” (i.e., making peace). He then recognized the new governor of East Florida, James Grant, and informed the chiefs that Grant’s “experience as a Warrior, and . . . Judge- ment & Abilities will in time convince them how happy they may be . . . under his administration.” Further, Bernaby added, the king had appointed a super- intendent of Indian aff airs, John Stuart, “[w]hose Skill in War & knowledge of Mankind must render him very acceptable among them.”¹²⁸ In framing his speech in this way, Bernaby appropriated native rhetoric link- ing manhood, warrior status, and political leadership in an eff ort to advance British diplomatic goals for the rapidly changing region. He employed two tac- tics that had become common among British offi cials by the mid- eighteenth century. He proclaimed colonial offi cials to be “warriors,” as well as skilled lead- ers, hoping to increase the respect with which native leaders regarded these new appointees. In doing so, he was acknowledging the importance of martial prowess to manhood in native culture and shaping his approach accordingly. Further, he acknowledged the Creek’s warlike ability. Many British offi cials adopted similar language praising allies, recognizing that such honors helped to grease the diplomatic wheels and facilitated negotiations. Signifi cantly, both tactics drew on native defi nitions of manhood, representing an area of substan- tial accommodation on the part of the British to native diplomatic norms. To a considerable degree, British adoption of native rhetoric refl ected a fear that native men did not respect them as warriors. As noted above, early English military dependency provoked anxiety on the part of settlers and engendered contempt on the part of native warriors. British weakness had been made pain- fully clear during the Tuscarora and Yamasee Wars. Although the colonists emerged victorious in both cases, they had relied heavily on native allies. Th e destructiveness of both wars would be long remembered.¹²⁹ As a result, in the 1720s British offi cials began to assert their own manhood by claiming warrior status while trying to downplay that of their native allies. In 1721, the newly ar- rived governor Francis Nicholson told the Creek headmen, “Our great King has sent me here being an old war Capt especialy amongst the Seneca’s and the Northward Indians, and you may tell your whole Nation . . . that they may de- pend upon what I tell them.”¹³⁰ By proclaiming his military experience (gained among the Creek’s traditional enemies, the feared Iroquois), Nicholson hoped to gain their respect and reestablish relations on a footing more favorable to the British. Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 79 In addition to asserting their own military prowess, British offi cials also began to try to counter Indian notions of British military weakness by remind- ing Indians of their own material dependency on trade goods. Indeed, they claimed that if the Indians displayed any warrior-like capacity, it was only be- cause of the merchandise the British supplied. In 1725, the South Carolina agent Tobias Fitch began reminding the Creek of their reliance upon British trade. “I must tell your Young Men,” Fitch said, “that if it had not Been for us, you would not have knowen how to Warr Nor yet Have anything To Warr with.” Before the arrival of the British, Fitch argued, they had only bows and arrows and wore nothing but skins, but now they had fi rearms and could fi ght powerfully against their enemies.¹³¹ “Savages” could only be men, in British eyes, if they conducted war the way Europeans did, using guns. Th erefore, if the Indians had any claim to manhood, Fitch implied, it was because of the friendship and charity of their British benefactors.¹³² Th e French employed similar rhetorical tactics. Th e major of Mobile, Chevalier Jadart de Beau- champ, visited the Choctaw in 1746 to demand satisfaction for the death of three Frenchmen at the hands of the pro-British faction. “[T]hey ought to re- member,” he insisted, “their former state; that if they were men today, it is to the French alone that they are obliged for it, since they put arms in their hands to defend themselves against the nations that were oppressing them and mak- ing them slaves.”¹³³ For both the French and the British, possession of appro- priate technology, more than personal bravery, made a warrior. In the 1750s, the British greatly expanded the use of the rhetoric of mili- tary masculinity. To some extent, this shift simply refl ects growing offi cial ex- perience with native rhetoric and a willingness to use it. Th e growing tensions between Britain and France and the beginning of the French and Indian War, however, increased British need for native allies and revived colonists’ anxieties about the vulnerability of frontier regions. Fear that the French would “seduce” Britain’s allies led offi cials to adopt Indian defi nitions of manhood, turning them to their own purposes. Because the goal was to convince native leaders to comply with British requests for cooperation or to provide military assistance, the British found it useful to appropriate native terminology rather than trying to impose their own conceptions of manhood. British offi cials found themselves trying to walk a fi ne line of proclaiming British manhood in a way that earned Indian respect while at the same time maintaining the peace. Th ey feared that longtime allies would defect to the French and tried to discourage such a move by proclaiming British military su- periority. In 1757, Governor Henry Ellis of Georgia informed a Creek delega- 80 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare tion that “the English were a People well known to the Indians for their Brav- ery by many signal Exploits in this Part of the World in the late and former Wars, as might be seen by the Bones of their Enemies scattered over the Ap- palachian Fields.” Although the war had not gone well for the British up until that point, he expressed confi dence that “the English would at Length oblige him [the French king] to sue for Peace.”¹³⁴ A year later, Governor Lyttelton of South Carolina warned the Cherokee against attacking the British, maintain- ing that “the Armies of the Great King are strong and mighty, his Warriours are without Number, well armed, well cloathed, well fed and supplied with all the Necessaries of War.”¹³⁵ At the same time, though, the British were reluctant to engage in direct confl ict with their native neighbors. Th is left them in the awkward position of explaining their own desire to maintain peace in a way that would demon- strate that they did not make treaties out of fear that they might lose a contest with native warriors. In 1757, frustrated Cherokee headmen lambasted Captain Raymond Demere for giving a portion of the king’s presents to the Mankiller of Tellico and other Cherokee who had gone to make an alliance with the French. Th e other headmen, who had determined that Tellico deserved no pres- ents, accused Demere of being afraid. Demere answered that although he had given the Mankiller presents in order to temper the bad behavior of the Tel- lico townspeople, “I am under no Fear at all, and why should I be afraid when I am amongst you and when I have so many brave red Coat Boys under my Command, that likes the Smel of Gun Powder. What I said made them laugh much.”¹³⁶ By asserting that British soldiers liked warfare, Demere eff ectively countered accusations that he had capitulated to the Tellico people because of fear. He proclaimed the manhood and warrior- like ability of his men, bolster- ing his own reputation as their leader. Th e following year, Governor Lyttelton downplayed a gift of ammunition and trade goods, informing the Cherokee that “if they imagined the Great King or his Warriours were afraid of them or any Indians they were greatly mistaken. Th at the presents were given to them because they were looked upon as the Kings Children, and that whilst he sat in that Chair as his majesties Representative what he did, he would never do from fear, but from motives of love and regard for them.”¹³⁷ As an alternative, British offi cials chose to present a picture of a diff erent kind of warrior. In 1757, Georgia governor Henry Ellis off ered Kasihta (Creek) headmen eight pounds of leather’s worth of goods for each French scalp they brought in and sixteen pounds’ worth for each prisoner. He explained the dis- Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 81 crepancy thus: “the English were Warriors but did not delight in Blood, and had rather Pay for Prisoners then Scalps.”¹³⁸ While still proclaiming British martial abilities, Ellis also posited a more humane image of military manhood. Warriors should not delight in blood or the death of their enemies. If neces- sary, they could wage war eff ectively, but war remained a necessary evil. A Brit- ish warrior, he maintained, would rather show mercy than bathe his hands in blood. Such, he implied, was the way of a “civilized” warrior. Diplomatically, British offi cials were also willing to concede the manhood of native people, although they generally did so in ways designed to advance their own agendas. In need of military support against the French, governors and army commanders would praise the exploits and martial ability of allied headmen in the hope that such honor and recognition would inspire the war- riors to take up the hatchet in service of Great Britain.¹³⁹ When the Cherokee headman Ammonscossittee (the “Emperor” of Tellico) visited Charles Town in 1756, Governor Lyttelton greeted him with full ceremonial honors, stating, “I have been informed of their [the Cherokees’] Valour & Exploits in War for which I respect & esteem them & hope that they will always continue to signalize themselves in that respect.”¹⁴⁰ Ammonscossittee promised that the Cherokee nation would send warriors from each town in the fall to assist the British in their war against the French, just as Lyttelton had desired. A year later, attempting to encourage the Cherokee to go to war against the French, Captain Raymond Demere addressed a group of Upper Cherokee headmen at Fort Loudoun. “As you are Warriours and Men of Sense and Understanding,” Demere began, “you are all sencible that the French are your great Enemies.” “Nothing is more valuable amongst brave Men and Warriours,” he went on, “then [sic] Trophies of Victory. Nothing is more worthy Acceptance than the Scalps of our Enemies; I want some and hope that some of you will soon bring me some French Scalps, or some Indian Scalps that are in Friendship with the French.”¹⁴¹ Flattery, the British found, could bring about the desired result. Th e Cherokee did send a party of warriors to join the Virginians in the assault on Fort Duquesne. Th e British grew equally adept, however, at using native rhetoric to con- demn behavior they found objectionable. When complaining of assaults on “peaceful” settlements or what they considered breeches of treaties, European offi cials berated Indians as not only savage and barbaric but unmanly. Lieuten- ant Governor James Wright of Georgia lambasted the Cherokee for the mas- sacre of the garrison of Fort Loudoun after the garrison had surrendered and 82 Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare been granted safe passage. “[T]his was not behaving like Men and great War- riors,” Wright asserted, “but like cowardly bad Men.”¹⁴² Although the Chero- kee “called themselves Men because they killed Numbers of poor defenceless People scattered on the Frontiers,” Governor Ellis told the Creek, “they to their Cost found that though we were Slow in exerting it[,] We had the Power to take Satisfaction.”¹⁴³ Later that same year, the behavior of some Lower Creek warriors from the town of Coweta in killing three children in one of the border settlements led Wright to decry such “base unmanly Actions.”¹⁴⁴ Behind the scenes, negative British attitudes toward native men manifested themselves in more subtle ways. Not only did local offi cials assert that their Indian neighbors were something less than men, they frequently did not call them men but rather “fellows.” Although the word fellow could have a number of diff erent connotations, the way the term was most often used in reference to Indians was derogatory. Samuel Johnson, in his 1755 dictionary, defi ned the word as “[a] familiar appellation used . . . generally with some degree of con- tempt” and as “[a] word of contempt: the foolish mortal; the mean wretch, the sorry rascal.”¹⁴⁵ British offi cials in the Southeast used the term frequently when referring to Indians, Africans and other slaves, and lower-class white men who had behaved badly. Slaves especially were most often referred to as “fellows.” Englishmen frequently applied the term to Native American men and espe- cially to those whom they considered “rogues.” Governor George Johnstone of East Florida bitterly derided a group of Upper Creek chiefs who came to visit him at Pensacola in 1760, complaining that the Creek attacked peaceful messengers sent to the nation. “[S]uch—Fellows,” he asserted, “are only fi tt to kill Men behind a Bush, for surely they dare not face their Enemys on open Ground.”¹⁴⁶ Because they seemingly did not have the courage to face their ene- mies out in the open, they did not deserve to be considered proper men but in- stead received the contemptuous appellation of “fellow.” When South Carolina justice of the peace James Francis investigated an alleged theft of some Indian deerskins in 1751, native complainants could not have found him terribly help- ful. “[N]o Notice should be taken of such Fellows,” Francis concluded regard- ing the Indian witnesses. “[N]o Notice should be taken of what these rascally, lying Sons of —— [say].”¹⁴⁷ In using the concepts of “man” and “warrior” in their own diplomatic speeches, the British tacitly acknowledged native values and allowed them to guide and direct the process of diplomacy. At the same time, though, offi cials proclaimed British military superiority in ways that were consistent with British notions of Rhetorics of Manhood and Warfare 83 national honor. Although governors and military commanders professed their own “warrior” accomplishments, they also asserted a collective, imperial mili- tary might that they hoped would overawe their “savage” neighbors. Yet un- derneath such rhetoric lay a continued awareness of the potential threat that native warriors posed to British interests in the region, as well as Britain’s con- tinuing need for native allies. Th erefore, British offi cials would have to recog- nize the manhood of their native neighbors.

Britain’s victory in the French and Indian War would inaugurate a substantial shift in the balance of power in the region, but it would still be another seventy years before Anglo- Americans had the ability to force the Indians out of the region. Th erefore, the rhetoric of martial manhood would continue to be used regularly by both sides. In the aftermath of the American Revolution, Gover- nor of Georgia sought peace with the Creek but proclaimed, “We [don’t] wish to be at peace with you because we are afraid . . . for all our War- riors are now a [hardy] Race of men, and Can undergo any kind of fatigue & Surmount any diffi cultys—they possess Sinewy arms & keen Cutting Swords, & are not afraid to die.” “It is not fear,” he continued, “that Induces us to Wish for peace with you, but the aff ection we have for your Wives & Children.”¹⁴⁸ Native conceptions of manhood, then, continued to infl uence diplomatic lan- guage throughout the remainder of the eighteenth century. In addition, though, Martin was utilizing another strain of thought that had come to be part of the southeastern language of diplomacy at around the same time. He was asserting not only American military might but also American concern for native women and children. He sought peace, he said, because he cared about Creek families. Although wars were largely fought by men, women and children could not be excluded, meaning that men and warriors would have to deal with their presence. Over time, British and, later, American leaders came together with native headmen to discuss methods of protecting women and children from the worst ravages of warfare, thereby developing a parallel rhetoric of femininity and warfare. 3  “To Protect Th em and Th eir Wives and Children” women and war

lthough men most often conducted military campaigns, warfare af- Afected all members of society: male and female, young and old. Yet most portrayals of Anglo- Indian confl ict, scholarly and otherwise, focus narrowly on diplomatic or strategic considerations. Popular myths and Hollywood movies have ingrained into the American psyche the image of European soldiers and Indian warriors engaged in hand-to-hand combat. If women appear at all in these scenarios, it is as victims of atrocities or patient wives waiting at home for their men’s return. Th e reality of the late seventeenth- and eighteenth- century southeast, however, does not fi t this picture. Both British and native women were far more intimately involved in frontier warfare than is usually recognized. War meant a number of things for women, who might become war supporters (or occasionally even fi ghters), victims, captives, or widows. In addition, because women often could be found in areas embroiled in confl ict, Indian and British men had to contend with their presence. Men in both soci- eties struggled to fi nd appropriate ways of defending their own communities in the unfamiliar and shifting world of the colonial frontier. Englishmen and Indians shared a common assumption: men and warriors were responsible for providing protection for their families. Th is expectation provided the foundation for a diplomatic rhetoric in which the defense of fami- lies became a signifi cant international concern. Male political leaders from both native and British societies met to negotiate matters relating to the treatment of women and children. Th ese discussions might take a couple of diff erent forms. Enemies, and sometimes even allies, faulted one another for their abuse of noncombatants, demanding redress or threatening retaliation. “Friends,” on the other hand, might off er assistance in defending one another, exhibiting concern for the welfare of the wives and children of the other. As is so often the case in violent confl icts, atrocities contributed to the view of the other as savage. Englishmen and Indians observed diff erent conventions Women and War 85 regarding the treatment of captives and which community members were le- gitimate targets of martial hostilities. Both sides routinely committed abuses that were all but guaranteed to create bitterness and produce long- term dip- lomatic diffi culties. Native men grew to fear the English as enslavers of their families, threatening the alliances that both sought to maintain. Englishmen defi ned native men as savage murderers of women and children, often using this notion to justify their own violations of the rules of “civilized” warfare. By the mid- eighteenth century, British offi cials began to argue not only that na- tive men were savages but also that they failed to adequately protect their own women and children. Th is conclusion served as a justifi cation for subjecting native people to imperial authority as colonial leaders sought to usurp native men’s responsibility for the protection of Indian women and children.

European and Indian Laws of Nations

By the time the Carolinas and Georgia were settled, general European rules of warfare, both written and unwritten, demanded that “certain categories of per- sons—the Weak, the defenseless, and the holy—should be protected.” In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Hugo Grotius’s Th e Rights of War and Peace: Including the Law of Nature and of Nations (1625) and later Em merich de Vattel’s Th e Law of Nations; or, Principles of the Law of Nature, Applied to the Conduct and Aff airs of Nations and Sovereigns (1758), codifi ed the rule of “civilized warfare” for Europeans. Women, children, and the elderly were to be exempt from hostilities.¹ Th e violence of war was to be reserved for soldiers. However, European warfare often failed to live up to the ideal, and atrocities occurred on a regular basis.² In Ireland, English writers justifi ed killing women and children of “savage” nations, maintaining that such steps were necessary when dealing with peoples unfamiliar with the rules of civilized warfare and lacking in Christian virtue. It was better to deal a decisive blow quickly using whatever tactics were necessary, they argued, than to prolong a war in which a “savage” enemy might commit even greater atrocities. Th is precedent was then transferred to the New World.³ Unlimited warfare and a reliance on irregular troops persisted in the colo- nies long after they had fallen out of favor in Europe. Colonists regularly used scorched- earth tactics and targeted noncombatants when fi ghting Indian tribes and French and Spanish settlers. By the time the Carolinas were settled, En- glishmen had already developed strategies for fi ghting Indians in other parts of the continent, and they transported those brutal methods to the Southeast.⁴ In 86 Women and War wars like those against the Tuscarora and the Yamasee, South Carolina troops killed women and children indiscriminately or sold survivors as slaves. Inter- estingly, English offi cials in the Southeast did not speak as openly about the propriety of killing native civilians as New Englanders did. Southerners (a few missionaries excepted) also do not seem to have experienced the same kind of moral dilemmas that Puritan leaders did in employing such tactics (or at least they spilled less ink justifying them).⁵ Little objection was raised before the 1750s. At that point, with war against France threatening the colonial frontiers, fears that mistreatment would lead the Indians to seek out a French alliance spurred some offi cials to favor more “civilized” behavior. In 1757, Edmund At- kins argued that off ering scalp bounties to native allies encouraged “the utmost private scalping, whereby the most innocent & helpless Persons, even Women & Children, are properly murdered” and deemed such atrocities “[a]ctions only becoming the greatest Savages, & unworthy of any Christian People to reward.”⁶ His comments produced relatively little eff ect. Decades later, General Andrew Pickens recalled that “cruel murders of weomen & children . . . had been long practised both by the white people & Indians.”⁷ Although theorists defi ned women as noncombatants, there were always in- stances of women who transgressed gender boundaries to take part in warfare. Th e trope of the “warrior woman” who disguised herself as a man and joined the military was a common one in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century En- glish popular balladry.⁸ Such women were exceptional. Many ordinary women, though, accompanied European armies, although usually not as soldiers. Th e British army (and later American forces as well) were often joined by a sizable contingent of women. “Camp followers” were often wives or other family mem- bers of poor soldiers, unable to support themselves in the absence of their men and therefore reliant upon the army for their maintenance. Th ey provided use- ful services such as cooking, laundry, cleaning, and nursing.⁹ Such women were not usually combatants but cannot easily be categorized as civilians either. Th e lines were no clearer in native society. In general, most women were considered noncombatants. According to William Gerard DeBrahm, the dis- tinction was so stark between warriors and nonwarriors that Cherokee women, children, and younger boys would not even approach the town square at night while enemy scalps were hanging there, fearing the spirits of the deceased, called skina.¹⁰ In practice, however, native women’s involvement in war was more diffi cult to defi ne. In general, as Th eda Perdue notes, “Women usually became involved in actual fi ghting by chance.”¹¹ Th e exigencies of confl ict in Women and War 87 the changing world of European colonization could force women into situa- tions in which fi ghting was unavoidable, or avoiding it undesirable. In particu- lar, when their communities were under attack and there was no possibility of fl ight, women often picked up weapons and did what was necessary to defend themselves. During the Tuscarora War, John Barnwell reported that when he put Chief Hancock’s fortifi ed stronghold under siege, the defenders refused to surrender, “the very women shooting Arrows” in defense of their town. In the end, most of the defenders were slain.¹² While defending their homes often left women little choice but to join in the fi ghting, the decision to arm women to fi ght in foreign territory was more complicated. Diff erent tribes pursued diff erent policies when it came to raid- ing abroad. Th e Creek do not appear to have taken women to war with them at all, reserving warfare for men. Th e Chickasaw, on the other hand, “ussually carr[ied] 10 or Twelve Young woman with them to the Warrs, whose bussiness [was] to sing a fi ne Tune, dureing any action.” Th e women would celebrate a victory or try to incite the men to greater acts of bravery by heaping reproaches on them if they retreated.¹³ Some accounts portray a more active role for some women in warfare. In 1670, John Lederer reported that the “Ushery” (Catawba) Indians had complained about the “Oustack” Indians (most likely the Westo), who were “a people so addicted to Arms, that even their women come into the fi eld, and shoot Arrows over their husbands shoulders.”¹⁴ Cherokee society recognized a special position for a high- ranking woman, that of “war woman.” Th e exact nature of the war woman’s authority and role is not entirely clear, nor are the means by which a war woman acquired her position. DeBrahm reported that the Cherokee took a woman with them on campaigns to “take care of the Camp, Fire, Provisions etc. Th is Woman, after some Campaigns is raised to the Dignity of War Woman.”¹⁵ Th e war woman resided in a mother town and was solely responsible for determining the fate of war captives; neither the peace chief nor the war chief had any say in this mat- ter. Lieutenant Henry Timberlake reported that war women also took part in the council.¹⁶ Other stories indicate that war women gained their positions by taking part in the fi ghting itself. Th e only Cherokee war woman about whom any evidence survives is Nan- ye- hi (known to the British as Nancy Ward). A member of the high-ranking Wolf clan and the niece of infl uential headman Attakullakulla, she later acquired the title of “Ghighau” or “Greatly Honored Woman.” Legend has it that Ward achieved her position after she took up her fallen husband’s weapon in a battle against the Creek and rallied her party to 88 Women and War victory. She thereafter gained fame among the British by using her authority as a war woman to spare the lives of several British prisoners.¹⁷ It is possible that the increased warfare that accompanied colonization brought women more actively into confl icts than they previously had been. As southeastern towns faced population losses in the eighteenth century, women may have joined war parties to add to their numbers.¹⁸ While in 1708 Th omas Nairne had reported that Chickasaw women confi ned their military activity to singing “a fi ne Tune, dureing any action,”¹⁹ by the 1750s Edmund Atkins re- ported that Chickasaw women “handle Arms, and face an Enemy like Men.”²⁰ Th e Chickasaw in particular suff ered heavy losses in the region’s endemic war- fare and may have found women’s support necessary to maintain their martial eff orts. Or Atkins may have misunderstood women’s role in war or exaggerated it to emphasize the warlike nature of the Chickasaws, whom he considered En- gland’s most valuable and loyal native ally. Neighboring groups may have ex- perienced similar phenomena. Some years after Atkins’s statement, Bernard Romans reported that he had “several times seen armed [Choctaw] women in motion with the parties going in pursuit of the invading enemy,” although he did not specify their role in these war parties.²¹ By the late eighteenth century, women were taking part in warfare often enough “that Choctaws developed a term for it, calling such a woman ohoyo tashka (‘woman warrior’).”²² However, the need to append “woman” to warrior suggests that although some women engaged in fi ghting, a “warrior” was still generally assumed to be male. Th e most important role of women in relation to war was demonstrated not on the battlefi eld but at home. In most nations women took the lead in torturing prisoners of war.²³ Because southeastern tribes reckoned their fam- ily relationships in terms of ties to matrilineal clans, it was women’s provenance to decide whether a captured enemy should live and be adopted into the nation or be tortured to death in revenge for the death of the women’s kin. British ob- servers were generally horrifi ed by the enthusiasm with which the women ful- fi lled their role, considering it decidedly unfeminine. Governor James Glen of South Carolina reported that “even their Women, those who in all other Na- tions are called the Soft & tender Sex, with them are Nursed up in Blood, & taught to delight in Murders & Torturing.”²⁴ Understanding native conventions regarding the treatment of nonwarriors during confl ict is very diffi cult, in part because British writers were more in- terested in condemning Indian savagery than in comprehending the ideas be- hind actual native practice. Nevertheless, southeastern nations had their own Women and War 89 generally accepted rules of warfare that provided for diff erent treatment for women than for men. Women and children generally, although not always, were spared from torture in native societies. Most extant examples of torture in the Southeast portray men as the victims.²⁵ Warriors did not gain status by killing women, which suggests that the killing of nonwarriors was not encour- aged. Early observers noted that Indian communities recognized a distinction between men who were counted as warriors and those who had not “struck blows or who [had] killed only a woman or child.”²⁶ Only equal combat with another warrior earned a man honor. Th is distinction probably both refl ected and reinforced cultural preferences for capturing women and children, who could be adopted to replace lost fam- ily members and help restore dwindling populations. Although a highly de- veloped “mourning war” tradition like that found among seventeenth- century Iroquois cannot be documented in the Southeast, some similarities certainly existed. Archaeologists suggest that the late protohistoric period in the South- east witnessed an increase in raiding and the seizure of captives. It is possible that the Westo, themselves refugees of Iroquois warfare, introduced aspects of the mourning war to the Southeast. Alternatively, the epidemic diseases that ac- companied the opening of the English trade and Westo slave raiding in the 1650s and 1660s may have encouraged an increasing emphasis on replacing lost popu- lation through the taking of captives.²⁷ Women, particularly those of childbear- ing age, were often desired as captives because of their procreative ability. Although women and children were not the preferred targets of ambushes and raids, in reality they not infrequently became casualties anyway. Colonial records are full of incidents in which native women and children were killed by enemy fi ghters. In one of the earliest English travel accounts from the region, the Virginia explorer John Lederer in 1670 reported that a war party “returned with skins torn off the heads and faces of three young girls.”²⁸ In 1725, the agent to the Cherokee, Colonel George Chicken, reported that “the ff rench [sic] Indians had killed on the other side the Hills Six Chickesaw Men four Women, Seven boys and Girls and two Cherookee Women.”²⁹ Th e reasons for the discrepancy between convention and reality are un- clear. Given the uncertainties of combat, it was not always possible to capture and carry off women and children. Small parties of warriors usually attacked whichever enemy was most accessible, looking for opportunities that presented the least risk. Th ey often ambushed lone hunters, traveling couples or fami- lies, or small parties that had ventured some distance from their towns. Small 90 Women and War groups of warriors did not take on whole towns full of enemies, preferring to strike and fl ee. If women resisted or if warriors feared pursuit they might kill captives and carry scalps home instead. One warrior, facing torture after his capture by enemies, bragged “of the women and children whom he had scalped and those whose brains he had ‘dashed out’ because he could not take them home.”³⁰ In other cases, grieving kin simply may have preferred blood to cap- tives.³¹ Further, because women decided issues of life and death and tortured prisoners, some may have considered them legitimate targets of violence. Ene- mies also were aware that women contributed to their towns’ decisions to make war. Women’s loud lamentations or demands for justice motivated their male kinsmen to avenge lost family members. For example, in 1755, John Fitch re- ported the capture of several Mohawk Indians by the Chickasaw. One Chick- asaw woman who previously had been captured by the Mohawks, along with her mother and two children, recognized two of the men. Th e former captive “perfectly trembled with Passion telling her People if they were old Women they might save them, but if Men and Warriors to kill them directly.”³² Again, the line between combatants and noncombatants wasn’t entirely clear. Some scholars have suggested that Native Americans did not target women and children before their contacts with Europeans but learned the practice from Europeans who failed to spare native noncombatants. A substantial num- ber of archaeological studies contradict this assertion, demonstrating that na- tive women were the victims of violence in the precontact period as well. Th ey generally were not preferred targets (men still outnumbered women among those who met a violent end), but they did make up a substantial minority of casualties.³³ One study suggests that the population losses resulting from con- tact may actually have encouraged the impulse to spare women and children for adoption.³⁴ Th e documentary record supports the conclusions of archae- ologists. As Lederer observed, native men needed no European example to tar- get women of enemy nations. Th e arrival of Europeans in the region brought these two disparate laws of nations together. All groups involved had to fi nd ways to deal with the ideas and habits of others in a world in which alliances and norms changed rap- idly. Most scholars agree that colonization engendered an increase in confl ict among native groups, who became entangled in European imperial struggles, competed for control of the trade or hunting territories, or scrambled for cap- tives to off set population losses caused by disease. Women were particularly af- fected. Michelene Pesantubbee has argued convincingly that Choctaw women Women and War 91 suff ered a signifi cant loss of both freedom and status as a result of the slave trade. Th e rise in violence led to the “withdrawal of women from public spaces.” Th is retreat reduced women’s ability to infl uence conditions in the community, while endemic warfare disrupted women’s traditional roles as farmers and re- duced their material contributions to the society.³⁵ Th is threat was particularly acute during the fi rst several decades of colonization because of the widespread commerce in Indian slaves.

“An Indian Slave Woman, Sold at Vendieu”: The Problem of Slavery, 1660– 1717

In June of 1712, trader Cornelius Macarty carried a complaint from the Yamasee Indians to the South Carolina commissioners of the Indian trade in Charles Town. He reported that Captain John Cochran had “demanded a Slave from Nenehebau for the Run of Canoe . . . though the said Indian did not goe in it or was in any Way concerned.” Cochran had threatened Nenehebau that “if he did not deliver him the said Slave he would knock him down and would take his Wife.”³⁶ Other traders reiterated Macarty’s testimony. Th ey also reported that the Yamasee were worried that their lands would be stolen from them. Th e commissioners responded to the latter concern by sending an agent to promise the Yamasee that their territory would not be taken away. If they did anything to discipline Cochran for his extortion of the slave or the threats he made against Nenehebau’s wife, there is no record of it. Th e failure of the gov- ernment to take action to resolve this and other disputes contributed to grow- ing Yamasee disaff ection with the British. Th e Indian slave trade dominated relations between Carolina and its neigh- bors during the fi rst several decades of contact. For the English, it supplied labor and valuable exports that supported the colonial economy during the tenuous early years of the colony’s existence. For natives, it supplied easy access to imported goods, as well as the opportunity for warriors to prove themselves in combat. Yet for many Indian communities, it produced a dangerous insta- bility as warfare expanded to supply the trade and as families faced the loss of kin. Slavery created a particularly precarious position for women and children, who quickly became preferred captives in this dangerous new commerce. Slave raiding brought the issue of defense to the forefront in native villages as men sought to defend their families. In the long run, the inability of the English government to regulate the trade and to shield their allies from crooked traders 92 Women and War threatened the relationship between the English and their closest neighbors. In an eff ort to protect their families and secure the return of their women and children, native men appealed to the government in Charles Town for help. Th e resulting cross- cultural conversations reveal a lot about the nature of the slave trade itself, as well as English and native men’s views about appropri- ate treatment of women and the obligations of allies. In the end, however, the unwillingness of the English to restrain the trade would render these discus- sions unfruitful, and the resulting chaos threatened the stability of the entire region. Both Native American and European societies recognized the legitimacy of enslaving captive outsiders, and this overlap facilitated the initiation of the slave trade. Th e institutions of slavery in the two societies diff ered greatly, how- ever, as did the rules regarding who could legitimately be enslaved. Th e meet- ing of these two systems produced a unique form of slave exchange that set the region apart from elsewhere in British America.³⁷ Th e Spanish, French, and English had adopted the practice of enslaving others long before they arrived in the Lower South. Th e Spanish imperial gov- ernment technically forbade the enslavement of Indians in 1542, but this did not prevent local offi cials and settlers from abusing the repartimiento (the assess- ment of compulsory labor) or fi nding other semilegal loopholes that allowed for the continued enslavement of native peoples.³⁸ Th e French government did not prohibit the enslavement of Indians, and French colonists benefi ted from the labor of some slaves, but the weakness of the French colonies limited the ex- tent of Indian slavery in those communities.³⁹ Th e English in South Carolina, however, experienced no such limitations. Arriving from Barbados, where they had considerable experience with exploiting Africans, English settlers trying to establish successful plantations had a seemingly insatiable need for labor.⁴⁰ All three nations had developed a complex rationalization for the enslave- ment of non- Europeans. In general, Europeans applied a double standard when it came to the treatment of captives taken in warfare. According to the Law of Nations, Christian Europeans were to be treated humanely and were often either released as part of the terms of a formal surrender agreement or were exchanged or ransomed. Again, women and children were considered ci- vilians rather than enemy combatants and were expected to be treated well and returned home whenever possible.⁴¹ Th e same standard did not, however, apply to non- Europeans and non- Christians. Members of “savage” communi- ties captured during “just” wars legitimately could be enslaved. “Savages” were Women and War 93 often deemed to have violated the Law of Nations, and their lives were there- fore forfeit. Th ose who deserved death could, however, be spared and enslaved. In addition, Europeans frequently claimed that because Indians were known to kill or torture prisoners of war, Christians were saving the lives of captives they purchased. Although in theory slaves were to be humanely treated, Bar- badian settlers arriving in the Southeast had already developed harsh “black codes” and a brutal system of repression aimed at keeping the growing slave population under control.⁴² Natives treated captives diff erently than Europeans did. Th ree possible fates awaited those taken by native war parties. Adult male captives regularly were tortured to death to pay for the death of a member of the captors’ family. Women and children, on the other hand, were more often adopted to replace a lost loved one or to augment the size and strength of the family.⁴³ Captivity narratives are, unfortunately, much more rare for the Southeast than for New England, so less is known of the experiences of captives chosen for adoption in native societies. French traveler Antoine Bonnefoy provides a rare look at an adoption ceremony. Bonnefoy was nabbed by a Cherokee war party from Great Tellico in 1741 and taken back to that town. Initially, each prisoner was made the “slave” (as the Frenchman termed it) of an individual warrior and tied separately “with a slave’s collar around the neck and the arms.” Th ey were then marched back to the Cherokee nation, although they were fed and given other necessities during that trek. Once they arrived in Great Tellico, each man was stripped of all his clothing save his breeches and was given a white stick and a rattle and made to sing. Th e following day the captives were marched through a gauntlet of sorts to the town square, where a lock of their hair was buried at the foot of a tree (perhaps symbolically burying their old identity). After this, Bonnefoy was adopted by a prominent man in the nation and was given cloth- ing, bedcovers, and other necessities; “and from that time,” he reported, “I had the same treatment as himself.” His only occupation during the two months he stayed with the Cherokee was to go hunting with his new brother.⁴⁴ Although captivity in this way off ered the possibility for integration into the society of the captor, the system can hardly be termed benign. Captives who did not make an eff ort to adapt and fi t into the foreign culture in which they found themselves might be unceremoniously killed.⁴⁵ Prisoners were torn from their homes and their family and forcibly integrated into the cul- ture of their kidnappers. Many had lost loved ones at the time that they were captured, killed by the very people with whom they subsequently lived. Wil- 94 Women and War liam Bartram witnessed the emotional trauma of “slavery” for a native captive during his stay in Muklasa (Upper Creek). Hearing a traditional Choctaw mourning song played by a local young man, a young Choctaw slave girl “soon after discovered very aff ecting sensations of affl iction and distress of mind,” crying openly. Inquiring into the cause of the girl’s sorrow, Bartram discovered that “when she was lately taken captive, her father and brothers were slain in the contest, and she understanding the sense of the song, called to remem- brance the tragical fate of her family, and could not forbear weeping at the recital.”⁴⁶ A third possibility faced those taken hostage by enemy war parties. Some simply remained as perpetual captives. Europeans generally referred to such people as “slaves,” but the term is problematic because it brings with it the bag- gage of Western conceptions of slavery, which did not coincide with native forms of bondage. Native American societies did not have a system of chattel slavery as it came to be understood in the American South. Long- term cap- tives were essentially unintegrated outsiders, without kin in the community and therefore without protection or rights.⁴⁷ As such, they occupied extremely low-status positions in native societies and to some extent were not even con- sidered human. A French observer noted that among the Choctaw, captors would “adopt them as their dogs,” and “make them perform all the functions of a dog, guard the doors, growl when anyone enters or goes out, eat the leav- ings of the dishes, and gnaw the bones.”⁴⁸ John Lawson, traveling in the North Carolina Piedmont, reported, “As for Servant, they have no such thing, except Slave, and their Dogs, Cats, tame or domestick Beasts, and Birds, are call’d by the same Name: For the Indian Word for Slave includes them all. So when an Indian tells you he has got a Slave for you, it may (in general Terms, as they use) be a young Eagle, a Dog, Otter, or any other thing of that Nature, which is obsequiously to depend on the Master for its Sustenance.”⁴⁹ Obedience and subservience to one’s master appears to have been a primary requirement for “slaves.” William Bartram met a Lower Creek chief during his travels who had “then attending him as slaves, many Yamasee captives, taken by himself when young. Th ey . . . served and waited upon him with signs of the most abject fear.” “Slaves” in Creek society, Bartram asserted, were “the tamest, the most abject creatures that we can possibly imagine: mild, peacable, and tractable, they seem to have no will or power to act but as directed by their masters; whilst the free Indians, on the contrary, are bold, active, and clamorous. Th ey diff er as widely from each other as the bull from the ox.”⁵⁰ Women and War 95 Native “slavery” was not without a labor component, but labor does not ap- pear to have been a primary consideration in choosing to keep a slave. Cap- tors retained “slaves” primarily as a sign of status, demonstrating their warrior prowess and ability to support a household. Unlike Euro- American slavery, which was predominantly an economic system, long- term captivity in Indian society had greater social signifi cance. Th erefore, it should come as no surprise that Lawson reported that slaves in Indian society were “not over-burden’d with Work, and so not driven by Severity to seek for . . . Relief.”⁵¹ “Slaves” were expected, however, to contribute to the subsistence of the household in which they lived. Th e exact type of labor expected of “slaves” varied greatly, though, perhaps by tribe or by the status and ability of the captive him- or herself. Some were well trusted and worked at occupations similar to those of free people in the society. John Lawson met a “Sippipahau” Indian, belonging to a warrior named Enoe- Will, “who killed us several Turkies, and other Game.”⁵² In this case, the distinction between the “slave” and his master was minimal, and the young man enjoyed a certain degree of freedom, as well as the ability to bear arms. Other captives, however, might fi nd themselves in a more degraded position, forced to do menial or gender-inappropriate tasks. Lawson also met a Waxsaw war captain during his travels who had loaded his manservant down with trade goods, employing him to carry burdens for him on his journeys.⁵³ Some years later, Cherokee headman Attakullakulla noted that two French- men whom he had captured served his family by “hoeing Corn, cutting Wood, and carrying Water for his Wife and Family.” Th ese tasks, while common for men in Euro- American society, were women’s occupations in Cherokee com- munities and refl ected Attakullakulla’s disdain for his prisoners.⁵⁴ Unintegrated captives had an additional value to native societies: they could serve as bargaining chips or tokens of goodwill during diplomatic meetings. Most nations along the eastern seaboard exchanged prisoners during peace ne- gotiations.⁵⁵ In 1725 a Coosa (Creek) man arrived in Tellico (in the Cherokee nation) to broach the topic of peace between six of the Abeca towns and Tel- lico. He brought with him a captive woman, a relation of the chief of Tellico, who ensured his peaceful reception. Youho- lo- mecco, an Abeca headman, had given the woman instructions to talk to the Cherokee about a peace between them.⁵⁶ Familiar with both cultures, this former captive could serve as an ef- fective intermediary, while her return served as a tangible sign of Abeca good- will. Her high status made her a particularly appealing ambassador. While the return of a prisoner might help solidify the peace process and demonstrate 96 Women and War goodwill, killing one served the opposite aim. In order to make peace with the British and open up a trading relationship, the Choctaw “delivered up to Mr Campbell a Chiccisaw Wench who had been sometime a Slave amongst them & upon whom they put a great Value.” However, a party of Choctaw warriors who were opposed to the alliance attacked the delegation at the house of Red Shoes and “shot ye Chiccisaw Wench dead upon ye Spot,” the purpose of which was “to spoil the Peace.”⁵⁷ Th e arrival of the English in the Carolinas dramatically altered the lot of native prisoners of war. Imperial competition among the Spanish, French, and English often pitted their allied Indians against one another. Growing dependency on trade and a spiraling cycle of debt made it diffi cult for tribes to avoid confl icts.⁵⁸ Th e introduction of a systematic trade in Indian cap- tives had a cataclysmic impact on southeastern nations. Th e increase in war- fare for the purpose of slave catching devastated villages and further reduced already- struggling populations. Greater contact with Englishmen accelerated the spread of diseases, exacerbating the problem.⁵⁹ Th e rise of the English slave trade also changed the meaning of captivity in native communities. Th e shift from seeing a prisoner as a status symbol or as a replacement for a lost family member to a tradable commodity had a profound eff ect on the meaning of cap- tivity and slavery for native societies themselves.⁶⁰ Native communities responded in a number of ways to the new realities of the slave trade. Some, like the Yamasee, moved closer to the English settle- ments and established an alliance with the newcomers. Th ey themselves were deeply involved in the trade, raiding enemy communities (particularly Span- ish mission villages). Th e Yamasee profi ted from the trade for a number of years, until mounting debt began to chip away at their alliance with the En- glish. Traders, themselves often overextended, began to seize Yamasee women as repayment, thereby producing a crisis for Yamasee communities.⁶¹ Other tribes sought refuge with neighbors, forming new multiethnic societies like the Catawba, or moved to new areas seeking to escape disease and slave raid- ing.⁶² Still others took up residence in Spanish mission villages, counting on the Spanish to provide protection. Th is latter move was generally unsuccessful, as English- organized slave raids during Queen Anne’s War nearly wiped out many mission settlements.⁶³ Native warriors also adopted a number of defensive tactics designed to pro- tect their villages against slave raids. In the centuries of warfare that preceded the arrival of the English, towns had developed elaborate means of fending off attacks by native enemies, and they adapted these plans to meet the chal- Women and War 97 lenges of contact. As a regular measure of defense, Mississippian peoples had often palisaded their villages, a tradition that persisted into the historic period. Th e English regularly encountered fortifi ed villages throughout the coastal and piedmont areas they explored.⁶⁴ Other tribes that had not traditionally pali- saded their towns might adopt the practice during times of crisis. Th e southern Tuscarora towns constructed fortifi cations after the outbreak of the Tuscarora War, particularly Fort Hancock and Fort Neoheroka. Th e Yamasee, during the Yamasee War, also tried to palisade their towns and may even have tried to build a fort but ran out of time.⁶⁵ Over time, however, the introduction of Eu- ropean siege tactics and especially artillery reduced the eff ectiveness of even the most substantial of native fortifi cations.⁶⁶ Tribes developed other defensive tactics as well. Flight was a common re- sponse, especially to the unanticipated arrival of strangers at an unfortifi ed vil- lage. In 1650, a group of Virginian explorers arrived at a Nottoway town in what is now North Carolina, hallowing as they approached. To their surprise, “the Inhabitants ran all away into the Woods, with their Women and Chil- dren.”⁶⁷ Th e Cherokee town of Tugalo, on the other hand, adopted an “off en- sive defense.” Being forewarned of an attack by the Creek in 1715, the headmen sent a large group of warriors out to intercept the enemy. In the years that fol- lowed, however, as war with the Creek dragged on, the town elected to build a palisade.⁶⁸ Sending a large group of men to war created additional defense concerns, though, depriving noncombatants of essential defenders. In order to overcome this problem, some groups, when anticipating an attack, went “ ‘en village,’ that is to say, with their wives and children.”⁶⁹ Such tactics might be es- pecially signifi cant when a group had suff ered a substantial defeat or was faced with the need to relocate. In 1731, in the wake of the devastating Natchez War, the Natchez retreated to the Chickasaw nation. Th e Choctaw saw them pass by, but “as they were very numerous and had their families with them, they did not dare to attack them.”⁷⁰ Indian leaders also sought diplomatic solutions to the threat that the slave trade posed to their communities. Groups that had formal alliances with the English appealed for redress through offi cial diplomatic channels, lodging com- plaints with agents, the council, or the commissioners of the Indian trade. Th e language headmen used reveals native values, highlighting their concerns re- garding the enslavement of their women and children on the one hand but also their own complicity in the slave trade on the other. Th eir appeals did not pro- test the slave trade itself but what they considered to be the violation of their treaty relationship with the English. “Friends” were not supposed to enslave 98 Women and War one another’s women and children. Native leaders probably were aware that the Proprietors had banned the enslavement of neighboring nations, limiting the practice to more distant groups, and expected that they would receive a rea- sonable hearing from colonial offi cials. Although English records are vague, the complaints native groups fi led probably followed normal diplomatic protocols and were brought by native headmen on behalf of the families of the captive women. Such matters were handled between nations rather than by individu- als. In 1711, the commissioners of the Indian trade simply noted, “Th e Indians farther complained that Cornelius Macarty took away the Wife and Child of an Indian that was gon to War and that Geo. Wright took away a free Woman that had a Husband in Tomatly Town.”⁷¹ In 1713, the Cherokee complained that two of their women were “detained Slaves att Mr. [Peter] St. Julian’s.”⁷² In this way, leading men in each society negotiated the fate of captive women and children. Such a phenomenon both refl ected and reinforced shared cultural notions that men were responsible for diplomacy and the defense of nonwar- riors within their communities. Englishmen recognized the problem but ultimately had little interest in remedying the situation. Th e missionary Francis Le Jau reported that the trade was driving friendly groups away: “Many are gone further up in the Coun- try thro’ badd usage they received from some of Our People, & dayly Com- plaints come of the Cruelty and Injustice of Our Indian Traders; no longer than 3 Months ago, one of those Traders caused a poor Indian Woman a Slave of his to be Scalloped within two Miles of my house, she lived 2 or 3 days in that miserable Condition and was found dead in the Woods; the History is as true as dreadful.”⁷³ Most colonists were not as conscientious as Le Jau, and few seemed inclined to end such a profi table trade. When the colonial government demonstrated concern about the abuses of the slave trade at all, they did so in ways that refl ected English notions of pa- triarchy and the status of free people. Offi cials sometimes overruled the sale or enslavement of Indians deemed not to have been taken in “just wars” or other- wise determined to be “free.” In 1710, the commissioners of the Indian trade ruled that “Coloose, a free Indian Woman given Mr. Pight by their own People [probably ], the Commissioners thinck itt unreasonable for her to be a Slave and doe order her to be free.”⁷⁴ Th e following year, William Bray was ordered “to send to New York to bring back an Indian Woman and Child who had bin free and was sold thither by him.”⁷⁵ English offi cials also worried that some traders took away the wives of allied Indians. Such an action violated the marriage bond, as well as the patriarchal rights that the English assumed a Women and War 99 man would assert over his wife. In the aftermath of the Westo War, the Caro- lina Proprietors blamed the confl ict on the Goose Creek men, who had caused the Savannah “through Covetuousness of your [the settlers’] gunns, Powder & shott & other European Comodities to make war upon their neighbours to ravish the wife from the Husband kill the father to get ye Child & to burne & Destroy ye habitations of these poore people.”⁷⁶ Some years later, a Chenehaw Indian named Tuskenehau complained that “the Head Men of the Cussetau Town had taken away the said Tuskenehau’s Wife named Toolodeha, a free Woman, and her Mother, a Slave belonging to the said Tuskenehau, when the said Tuskenehau was gon to Warr.” According to the aggrieved husband, “the said Women were rongfully and unjustly taken away from the said Tuskenehau upon Pretence of paying some Town Debts due from Others of the said Town to Mr. John Pight when the said Tuskenehau was no wais indebted to the said John Pight or any other Person trading att the said Town.” Th e commissioners determined that Tuskenehau had been unfairly deprived of his wife, and they returned her (but not her mother) to him.⁷⁷ Determining the meaning of slavery for native women is diffi cult. Many were sold, along with their children, to the West Indies or to other colonies. Of these, a great number doubtless died of disease or were worked to death in the island sugar fi elds. Of slaves who remained in South Carolina, relatively little is known. A slave’s fate largely depended upon the whim of her or his owner. In his 1707 will, the trader Richard Prize freed his common- law Indian wife and their two daughters, leaving his estate to the children.⁷⁸ Widow Mary DeLonguemare freed her Indian slave woman Maria and Maria’s two children Charles and Elizabeth in her will and left them some modest property.⁷⁹ Few slaves were so fortunate. As Le Jau’s comments above illustrate, other masters abused and mistreated their slaves. Th at numerous slaves also freed themselves by running away indicates that they found their circumstances intolerable. In 1692, Daniel Huger complained that “an Indian woman named Betty belong- ing to him did Some time since Run away from him and [was] detained by the Yamesee Indians.”⁸⁰ Other slaves not fortunate enough to escape eventually be- came integrated into the larger slave population. Most Indian slaves probably lived in mixed households together with white servants and African slaves. Na- tive women intermarried with white or African men, giving rise to a number of bi- or even triracial people.⁸¹ “Mustee” slaves continue to show up regularly in the colonial records through the 1740s, after which time they were frequently categorized as “negro” or “mulatto” and disappeared (at least as far as English observers were concerned) into the general slave population.⁸² 100 Women and War English offi cial intervention in regulating the slave trade was halfhearted, inconsistent, and ultimately inadequate. To defend themselves against en- slavement and dispossession, the Westo, Tuscarora, and Yamasee all waged war against the English. Th e Yamasee War fi nally convinced colonists of the dangers of the Indian slave trade. Although Indian slavery declined precipi- tously thereafter,⁸³ its specter remained long afterward in the minds of south- eastern natives and continued to poison Anglo- Indian relations.⁸⁴ As tensions rose in the Cherokee nation in the years leading up to the Cherokee War, the Mankiller of Hiwassee reported to the British commander Raymond Demere that “[s]ome old Men have said that how soon an Army of white People should come amongst us, our Women and Children would be taken and made Slaves, and that our Land would be taken from us.”⁸⁵ Th e French were only too happy to play upon such fears, warning the Creek nation that “the English wanted nothing but the Indians Lands, and at last will make them Slaves alsoe.”⁸⁶ Th e sharp decline in the slave trade after the Yamasee War considerably im- proved the situation for native women. Intertribal confl ict certainly continued, but not at the level produced by the slave trade. Further, women and children captured after the Yamasee War were more likely to be adopted as kin rather than sold as chattel to British traders, mitigating some of the worst eff ects of captivity. Hostages who previously might have been sold to the British had a better chance of being exchanged as part of peace negotiations, both facilitating diplomacy and providing an avenue for captives to return home. Women also regained control of the fate of captives, which the slave trade had often taken away. During the slave trade, warriors interested in making a profi t had sold prisoners to traders rather than bringing them home for torture or adoption, denying women an important form of infl uence within the kinship system.⁸⁷ Once the slave trade ended, women’s power over captives’ lives was restored. Overall, the end of the slave trade allowed for the restabilization of native so- cieties by the second quarter of the eighteenth century, providing breathing room for communities to rebuild before British expansion brought fresh pres- sures to bear on inland tribes in the 1750s and 1760s.

“Take a Requisite Care of the Women and Children”: British Men and the Rhetoric of Family Protection

Faced with the outbreak of the Yamasee War in 1715, Governor Charles Cra- ven of South Carolina called the assembly together to try to deal with the cri- Women and War 101 sis. He lamented the “most barbarous & unspeakable butcheries & cruelties exercised upon our friends and acquaintances.” “If we do not, at this juncture, strenuously exert ourselves and animate one another with a courage superior to our enemies,” he warned, and “if we do not make speedy and necessary prep- aration of amunition and provisions for our Men, and take a requisite care of the Women and children, we shall soon be sensible of the inactivity and use- lessness of the one, and the burthen of the other.”⁸⁸ British men also faced the problem of how to defend their families and communities. Although the slave trade did not aff ect English women and chil- dren in the same way that it did natives, the realities of life on an unstable and contested frontier meant that warfare was a constant threat. Defensive consid- erations were of the utmost concern from the beginning.⁸⁹ Th e southern colo- nies were openly acknowledged to be military outposts in the continuing im- perial struggle against Spain, and the English began building forts as soon as they set foot in the Carolinas. In 1670, when the fi rst colonists disembarked at the mouth of the Ashley River and founded Charles Town, they built palisades and a moat around their settlement.⁹⁰ During outbreaks of Indian warfare, issues of defense became exceedingly important, and the English were often caught unprepared, scrambling to provide protection for the population of outlying areas. At the outbreak of the Yamasee War, settlers fl ed to plantations belonging to prominent planters or militia captains. Th ese plantations would be turned into makeshift frontier forts, with palisades surrounding them for protection.⁹¹ Unexpected attacks on frontier settlements inspired horror and fear, as well as loathing. Incidents such as the attack along the Pamlico River during the Tuscarora War in North Carolina, in which the Indians wiped out the entire settlement, including women and children, were retold regularly and added urgency to eff orts to provide for frontier defense. Th e news spread ter- ror among North Carolina residents, and the colony appealed for help to any source it could fi nd.⁹² Inhabitants of outlying areas expected the government to take the neces- sary steps to provide for their defense. In 1745 a group of settlers in Williams- bourgh, fearing Indian attacks, petitioned Governor Glen and the South Caro- lina Council for a palisaded fort with swivel guns. Without such a fort, the petitioners maintained, “it would be impracticable for them to defend them- selves and their possessions, or otherwise to protect the Province, unless, at the Time they oppose themselves to the Enemy, their Wives and Children were in someplace of Security.” Th e council agreed to undertake the building of sev- 102 Women and War eral palisades, recommending to the commons that a party of rangers be as- signed to patrol the outlying areas.⁹³ Th e language of the request reveals clearly the patriarchal assumptions that underlay English defensive ideology. Women, as well as children, were considered “dependents” who owed obedience to the male family head but could also expect support and protection in return. Hus- bands and fathers were responsible for the defense of their wives and off spring, an obligation that preceded their duty to supply military service to the colony. Th e government itself, as the agent of the king, was also expected to take on a paternal role, safeguarding the lives and property of English subjects. Th e need to protect British women and children also hindered eff orts to pursue and engage a mobile and cunning enemy. During the Tuscarora War, for example, North Carolina residents found that although drawing together “into garrisons” could “prevent mischief ” to the inhabitants, it also “very much hinders the getting men into a body to pursue the enemy.”⁹⁴ Fear often obliged settlers to abandon their homes altogether. In 1751, the inhabitants of Saxgotha township demanded guns and ammunition to defend themselves against hostile Indians, adding that if some provision was not made for them, “they [would] be all obliged to leave those parts, and to come amongst the Lower Settlements, with their Wives and Children, if they [were] not Cut- off before.”⁹⁵ Th e government’s obligation to protect women and children extended be- yond the construction of fortifi cations or arming of the militia. When defen- sive measures failed, raiding parties carried off individuals or even whole fami- lies as prisoners. British offi cials made a concerted eff ort to secure the return of captives. As early as 1650, the governor of Virginia ordered a party of travelers setting out to explore North Carolina to “enquire for an English woman cast away long since, and was amongst those Nations”⁹⁶ in order to redeem her. Th e British became extremely demanding when it came to achieving the release of their compatriots, at times resorting to threats or making continued alliances contingent on the Indians’ compliance. In 1725 Captain Tobias Fitch, agent to the Creek, demanded that Cherekeileigie “mett me with the White English Woman that he keeps as a Slave and Deliver her to me or I should fi nd ways to oblidge him.”⁹⁷ Cherekeileigie never showed up. Fitch was a bit savvier six months later when he requested that the Dog King of the Palachochola Town deliver up an English girl he held captive, telling the Creek that “if these people has a mind to Show thir freindship to my king,” the Dog King would comply with his petition.⁹⁸ In this way, discussions regarding the defense of women and children, and men’s responsibility for them, made their way into the dip- Women and War 103 lomatic language of the frontier. British offi cials and native headmen negoti- ated for the return of kidnapped women and children, and the freeing of cap- tives became an important part of establishing peace. In 1755, the king and headmen of a group of Savannah Indians living among the Upper Creek sent a message to Governor Glen of South Carolina hoping to maintain the peace in the wake of recent attacks on British settlements. Th e headmen maintained that they had been uninvolved, and as proof of their goodwill, they promised to secure the return of any British captives they could fi nd. Th ey also turned over their only captive, a little girl named Cloe Hannah Brown, to trader Wil- liam Struthers.⁹⁹ Offi cial eff orts to secure the release of British captives reveal a distinct double standard in the treatment of native and white women and children. Few Englishmen had objected to the enslavement of native peoples before 1715, and the trade was discontinued mostly because it threatened the stability of the colonies and not because of any great concern for the rights of native women. In contrast, however, the British found the prospect of Europeans, of any sex or nation, being kept in “slavery” in “savage” communities unacceptable.¹⁰⁰ Th e enslavement of Christians by pagan barbarians represented a threat to the in- tegrity and sovereignty of European societies as a whole.¹⁰¹ Th e language with which the British expressed the conditions white captives faced while held in “slavery” (and they did not distinguish between long-term captives and those adopted by native families) clearly indicates that they considered these condi- tions to be unacceptable for “Christians” to endure.¹⁰² William Struthers re- ported that when the Savannah delivered Cloe Hannah Brown to him, she was “naked, Sick, and in want of all necessarys that would render Life support- able,” congratulating himself on saving her “from a Savage and miserable Slav- ery.”¹⁰³ Other travelers echoed the miserable state of white captives. Timber- lake reported that one captive, Mary Hughes, told him “that there still remained among the Indians near thirty white prisoners more, in a very miserable condi- tion for want of cloaths, the winter being particularly severe; and their misery was not a little heightened by the usage they received from the Indians.”¹⁰⁴ Not only did the British seek to rescue their own countrymen, they were willing to intervene and purchase the release of other European “Christian” cap- tives. In 1717, the South Carolina Council resolved to redeem “a certain Girle, the Daughter of a French Man (who had sollicited his Honour in that behalf )” from the Cherokee.¹⁰⁵ In 1750, the South Carolina Assembly agreed to reimburse Chickasaw and Choctaw trader Charles McNaire “for ransoming Madamoselle 104 Women and War Chevell, a French young Woman,” identifi ed as “a young Girl of some Distinc- tion (and whose Family had been cut off ),” who was then returned by ship to Mobile.¹⁰⁶ Clearly, a Christian girl could not be maintained as the “slave” to sav- ages, regardless of her denominational or national affi liation. Scholars disagree about whether fears of sexual violation infl uenced Eu- ropeans’ views of Indian captivity. Steven Neuwirth maintains that Euro- peans expected Indians to be “sex-crazed savage[s].”¹⁰⁷ Sharon Block, on the other hand, has indicated that although some seventeenth-century Englishmen viewed Indians as sexually aggressive, by the eighteenth century the majority of commentators “had apparently concluded that Native American cultural be- liefs prevented rape.” Block’s observations are generally borne out in the South- east, and few offi cials expressed concern that Indian warriors would violate female captives.¹⁰⁸ James Adair noted that the “French Indians are said not to have defl owered any of our young women they captivated, while at war with us . . . they would think such actions defi ling, and what must bring fatal con- sequences on their own heads.” According to Adair, only the Choctaw, of all southeastern tribes, appear to have engaged in ritualized sexual violence in any situation. He claimed that Choctaw warriors would “take several female pris- oners without off ering the least violence to their virtue, till the time of purga- tion was expired,” but “then some of them forced their captives, notwithstand- ing their pressing entreaties and tears.”¹⁰⁹ Th e Choctaw may have taken such action toward any woman they considered an outsider. Bernard Romans indi- cated that the Choctaw practiced gang rape on “a girl or woman who belong- ing to another town or quarter of the nation, comes to the place where she is a stranger and cannot give a good account of herself and business, or the rea- son of her coming there.”¹¹⁰ Th ese references are diffi cult to interpret. It is un- clear why the Choctaw alone among southeastern Indians might have pursued such a policy or how often such events occurred. Further, Adair lived for many years among the Chickasaw, bitter enemies of the Choctaw, which may have colored some of his statements. Offi cial British records support the assertion that most southeastern na- tions did not ordinarily rape captive women, and actual instances of rape com- mitted by southeastern Indian men appear only rarely. In 1742 a young Catawba man was accused of “having Committed a Rape on the Body of a White Young Woman.” Th e South Carolina agent George Haig explained to the Catawba that British law required that the “delinquent for so highnous a Crime a[s] that of a Rape [be] punished with death.” It is not clear whether the accused admit- Women and War 105 ted to the off ense or the case turned into a he-said- she- said situation. Noth- ing more is recorded about the alleged attack, not even the name of the young woman in question. Th e Catawba king, however, argued “that their Ignorance of the Nature of our Laws previous to the Committmt of the aforesd Rape did in Some measure plead excuse for the Criminal” and “desired that as the Criminal was but young and as it was his fi rst Crime that he might not Suff er death.” Th e council, considering the tricky diplomatic nature of the matter, de- termined that “the Lt Governour should Extend his Pardon to the aforsd Indian on their promise of good beheaviour in the future.”¹¹¹ How the alleged victim felt about this solution is not known. A second instance occurred in 1753 when a party of unspecifi ed Indians came to Felix Smith’s house near Charles Town. Th e attackers “murdered one Felix Smith, not far from Charles Town, and ravished a Woman at the same Time.”¹¹² Th ere is no telling how common such occurrences were. Other in- stances may not have survived in the records. Some women may have chosen not to report rapes out of shame and fear that in their race- conscious society they would be ostracized. In any event, sexual assaults do not appear to have been common. Notably, far less concern was demonstrated for the rape of na- tive women by British men, except in those instances in which the incident threatened to provoke hostilities. Indians complained often to the South Caro- lina government about instances of rape and abuse (as discussed in chapter 5), but little action was ever taken. As the eighteenth century progressed, the protection of British women and children on the frontier took on a new kind of rhetoric, particularly among Englishmen themselves. Earlier accounts simply listed casualties, sometimes identifying the victims by sex and age but including little other editorial com- ment. In most cases, the condemnation of such actions was implicit rather than explicit. Governor Alexander Spotswood of Virginia reported that the Tusca- rora in 1711 killed many English, Swiss, and Palatines “without distinction of age or Sex.”¹¹³ In 1716 the commissioners of Indian aff airs of South Carolina wrote to William Waties, factor at Wineau, informing him of the “Treachery of the Sante’ Indians, who lately fell upon and murdered some of Mr. Sum- mers’ Family.” Although the commissioners represented this act as a treacher- ous murder, they did not even mention the age and gender of the victims.¹¹⁴ While demonstrating that the Indians were savages who did not adhere to Eu- ropean rules of “civilized warfare,” these accounts did not dwell specifi cally on the plight of women and children. 106 Women and War By the 1750s, however, the language the British used to detail attacks on women and children had changed. Accounts began to emphasize the helpless nature of British women and children, sentimentalizing and dramatizing the perfi dious nature of the Indians who attacked the weak and helpless. In 1753 the South Carolina Council noted that a woman on the Saluda River was “mis- erably with a Tomohawk struck . . . over all her Body” by a party of Savannah Indians and that those Indians also “took two innocent Children out of their Beds, and dashed out their Brains.”¹¹⁵ Although the nature of such attacks probably had not changed much, the rhetoric describing the 1753 incident had become signifi cantly more dramatic and infl ammatory. What kind of cowards, the council insinuated, beat out the brains of “innocent” children? Th e more sentimental, dramatic language continued through the end of the century. James Adair condemned a band of “murdering” Creek, who took “an innocent mother of good report, and two of her little children, [and] put [them] to slow torture in boiling water.”¹¹⁶ In this retelling, it was not simply a woman and two children who had been killed, but “innocent” victims; not just a woman, but a mother; not just minors, but “little children.” Even in cases in which women and children were not actually attacked, British observers began to protest the “insolent” behavior of Indian warriors toward “helpless” women. Offi cials and petitioners noted that parties of Indian warriors showed up at isolated homesteads when the men were not at home, terrorizing the women and children who were there alone. In 1750, a group of Euchee and Creek began harassing settlers near Darien, Georgia, plunder- ing cornfi elds, killing cattle, “and going into such Houses, where they only fi nd Women and Children, and under a Cloak of Friendship take what they like.”¹¹⁷ Two years later, the inhabitants of Anson County, North Carolina, petitioned the South Carolina government for help after a large number of Cherokee came and settled near them. Not only did the Indians kill their cattle and hogs and steal their horses, the petitioners complained, but “they are also so Insolent and Sawsey amongst our Women and Children that we can not leave our Plan- tations to go about our lawful business for fear of their doing mischief among us.”¹¹⁸ As the protectors of women and children, the male inhabitants of the region found themselves constantly needing to be on their guard, which dis- rupted their ordinary economic and subsistence activities. Th is change in British rhetoric occurred in the midst of a series of some- times contradictory developments in British society and in Anglo- Indian re- lations in the North American interior. Confl ict between the British and the French was heating up in the Ohio River valley, erupting in 1754 in the French Women and War 107 and Indian War. British offi cials were therefore sensitive to any sign that “their” native allies were being “seduced” by the French and might join on the French side in the emerging struggle. Th e rapidly expanding British settlements also produced rising tensions on the frontier, as colonists and Indians clashed more and more often on disputed territory. On the other hand, however, as South Carolina’s population had grown, so had its military capabilities, contribut- ing to a growing sense of security. Renewed confl ict was unlikely to have the impact that the Yamasee War had produced. It was clear that the balance of power in the region was shifting in favor of the British. While some tribes, like the Creek, saw their numbers expand through the incorporation of new groups, the overall native population had declined since the seventeenth cen- tury, and natives’ dependency on trade goods was steadily increasing. Now less reliant upon their native neighbors for defense, the British found it easier to condemn them and exclude them as “other.” British racial attitudes were shift- ing as well. Although the process was gradual, by the 1750s and 1760s many British settlers had come to see Indians not merely as culturally inferior and “savage” nations to be civilized and absorbed but as inherently diff erent peoples whom they did not wish to include. Th e violence of the French and Indian War contributed to the growing feelings of fear and revulsion toward native people among backcountry residents.¹¹⁹ Literary expression in British society was also increasingly emotional and sentimental, a development that altered the ways in which regular citizens and particularly better- read government offi cials re- ported on events they observed.¹²⁰ Th is newly sentimentalized rhetoric and its underlying assumptions of the “savagery” of native men soon dovetailed with the desire to exert greater au- thority over those tribes allied with the British. As confl ict with the French once again threatened the colonies, colonial offi cials stepped up their eff orts to turn their assumptions of sovereignty over native neighbors into a reality. Once again, the question of the defense of women and children would shape the lan- guage the government used to try to realize these goals. British imperial aspira- tions would come to center on the construction of forts in Indian country.

“A Fort . . . for the Protection of Your Women and Children”: A Case Study of the Cherokee Forts

In July 1753, a party of Cherokee headmen visited Charles Town for a confer- ence with Governor Glen and the South Carolina Council. Th e Indians com- plained of a lack of goods in their country and of the high prices that traders 108 Women and War demanded for those goods. Th en Skiagunsta, the elderly headman of Keowee, spoke. His town of Keowee, he told the governor, was now very small, and he asked Glen to build a fort there so that his “People and Wives might pass and repass safely as if on your [Charles Town’s] Streets.”¹²¹ Such a request at fi rst seems strange. Why would a Cherokee chief invite the British to build a fort in his nation, thereby allowing them a foothold and a fortifi ed position from which to attack him if they wished? In the 1750s, the British gained permission from Cherokee leaders to build two forts in their nation: Fort Prince George near Keowee (constructed in 1753), and Fort Loudoun in the Overhills country on the Little Tennessee River (built in 1756). Th e two forts have gained the attention of historians largely for their roles in the Cherokee War and because of the eventual destruction of Fort Loudoun and “massacre” of a portion of the British garrison.¹²² Th e gen- dered nature of the rhetoric surrounding the building of the forts, however, has remained unexamined. Th e British proposed the construction of the forts “to defend your [the Cherokee’s] Wives and Children” from incursions of the French and their allied Indians.¹²³ According to British records, Skia gunsta and other headmen also requested the construction of forts using the same language. Th e statements by leaders on both sides reveal several assumptions regarding the relationship between men and women, as well as the use of gen- dered tropes in Anglo-Indian diplomacy in the mid-eighteenth century South. Englishmen and natives assumed that they shared certain ideas about the ap- propriate role of men, who were to be the protectors of women and children. Th erefore, the use of gendered rhetoric and the expression of concern for the safety of those members of society provided a mutually acceptable method for approaching what could have been a sticky diplomatic issue. It allowed each side to put the construction of the forts in the best possible light, while mask- ing other, more self- serving motives.¹²⁴ British expressions of concern for native women and children had a his- tory that predated the building of the forts. In the wake of the Yamasee War, offi cials struggled to rebuild alliances with neighboring groups. Recognizing that threats to the security of their families had been one of the factors pre- cipitating the war, the British determined to show their commitment to their new alliances by warning their allies of impending attacks, couching their mes- sages in the language of the protection of women and children.¹²⁵ In 1718, the commissioners of the Indian trade ordered the factor, Captain William Hat- ton, to inform the Cherokee that the British had caught wind of a proposed Women and War 109 attack upon the nation by the French and their allied Indians. “[W]e sent the earliest Advices of it,” Hatton was to tell the headmen and the conjurer, “that they may defend themselves; and we advise them to infort their Women and Children.”¹²⁶ A few years later the agent, Colonel George Chicken, warned the Cherokee that the Choctaw planned to attack them. “[R]aise an Army of Men and Defend [yourselves against] your Enemies,” he advised them, “before they come Nigh your Towns.” Such actions would be more eff ective than waiting for the enemy to attack and then trying to defend themselves. “[I]f you will take my Advise [sic],” he told the headmen at the Lower Cherokee town of Tugalo, “[y]ou need not to fear any of Your Enemies and may preserve Your Women and Children at home and likewise your Corn in the ground.”¹²⁷ As time went on, British offi cials began to off er their own services in de- fense of native women and children. In 1727, council president Arthur Middle- ton off ered British protection to a band of Chickasaw living near Fort Moore on the Savannah River should they choose to go to war against the Yamasee. “You must not be afraid,” he told them, “for I have given Instructions to the Co- mandt of Fort Moore to Entertain [your] Wives and Children in Case of Dan- ger.” In this case, however, the Indians refused his off er. “When We goe Out,” the Chickasaw answered, “we never leave Our Wives and Children alone. We have men to leave wth them and others to go to Warr.”¹²⁸ In the long run, British offi cials decided that most native methods of de- fense were inadequate. Th ey frequently noted when women and children be- longing to allied nations were killed or attacked by enemy war parties. Th e conclusion that native men failed to provide protection for their women and children supported British racial notions, while allowing them to insert them- selves as the more able defenders of “helpless” “dependents” within native soci- ety. Th is rhetoric would feed into the discussions regarding the forts. As early as 1720, Carolina offi cials began advocating building forts on the frontier in order to maintain the loyalty of their Indian allies and to protect British interests, as well as to balance the infl uence the French gained with the building of Fort Toulouse in 1717.¹²⁹ Th e Yamasee War had left the Brit- ish shell-shocked and terrifi ed that the French in Louisiana would somehow “seduce” England’s Indian allies away, surrounding the southern colonies with hostile enemies. Th e British, thereafter under royal authority, built outposts such as Forts Moore and Augusta at strategic locations, and Georgia main- tained a short- lived “fort” at Okfuskee in the 1730s.¹³⁰ It was many years later, however, before they succeeded in building forts deep in Cherokee territory. In 110 Women and War 1747, the South Carolina Council sent a message to the commons, asking it to approve funds to establish garrisons in both the Creek and Cherokee nations, adding that “we are of Opinion that we cannot securely rely upon the Declara- tion of their Fidelity to us without such Curbs on them.”¹³¹ Th e council argued that outposts would not only protect the province against French encroach- ments but also allow the British a foothold in Indian territory, which, accord- ing to British notions of sovereignty, already belonged to the king. It would also assure them of a prime location to observe Indian movements and obtain intel- ligence. In a 1752 representation on the state of Indian aff airs, Governor Glen argued that the presence of a fort in the Cherokee nation would allow the Brit- ish to curb any “Insolences” they might demonstrate, as well as freeing the gov- ernment of the need to rely upon traders for information.¹³² Such an argument could not, of course, be made to the Indians. Th e British therefore appealed to native headmen in terms of paternal concern for the wel- fare of their people, particularly the most vulnerable members of their society, the women and children. In April 1748, Governor Glen wrote to James Beamer, Andrew Duche, and William Ewen, traders in the Cherokee nation, commend- ing the headmen of Keowee for having ordered satisfaction to be given for a number of off enses against traders. If the Cherokee followed through on their promises, Glen informed Beamer and the others, “then this Government will build a Fort in the Overhills to protect them and their Wives and Children as they have often desired heretofore.”¹³³ Th is continued to be the dominant rhet- oric used by the British in relation to their posts in Cherokee country, and co- lonial offi cials again and again maintained that they were building or had built those forts for the security of Indian women and children.¹³⁴ Governor Glen often couched his concerns in the context of waging a joint military campaign against the French, emphasizing both the existing alliance between the two na- tions and their mutual assistance in the face of a common enemy. Th e fort, he said, would be ready “to receive [their] Women and Children . . . that they may be in a Place of Security while the Warriours give Chase to the Enemy.” Once the fort was nearly complete and able “to prove a Protection for your Women and Children,” he maintained, “there will be no Delay in going against your and our Enemies.”¹³⁵ In using this rhetoric, the British demonstrated two tacit assumptions re- garding their own role vis- à-vis native women. When Europeans signed trea- ties with any native group, they believed that they had asserted sovereignty over them and expected that the Indians would submit to them. In keeping Women and War 111 with British patriarchal metaphors of the king as the father of his people, how- ever, when the king claimed authority over the Indians and assumed the right to command them, he also took on the responsibility to protect them and to supply them with the blessings of European “advancements.” Just as the South Carolina government assumed responsibility for the defense of British women and children on the frontiers, it also therefore would be accountable for the protection of his majesty’s other “subjects,” the Indians themselves. Second, by assuming the inability of native males to take adequate care of their “depen- dents” (one of the most important responsibilities of a man and of a govern- ment), the British justifi ed their own assertions of authority. If native warriors were not man enough to protect their own women and children, then human- ity demanded that the British step in and take over that responsibility. By in- serting themselves into the role of defender of Indian women and children, the British justifi ed their own assumptions of dominance.¹³⁶ Th e British failed to convince the Creek to allow the building of a fort in their nation in the 1750s. In 1756, the governor complained to Gun Merchant and other Creek headmen that many Creek had gone to hear talks at Fort Toulouse, declaring that if the Creek were friendly with the French, the Brit- ish traders would be afraid to carry their goods to the nation. If British trad- ers were to continue to supply the Creek with merchandise, he maintained, it would be “necessary that we should have a Fort there also for their protection, and You’ll fi nd it also to be a protection to your selves and Women and Chil- dren against your Enemies.” Th e outpost would also provide a convenient lo- cation for supplying the Creek with ammunition, as well as for the distribu- tion of presents.¹³⁷ Th us the governor dangled before the Creek headmen the twin carrots of protection of Indian women and children and supply of goods. However, the chiefs concluded that although it would be useful to have a more reliable supply of goods, “we cannot think of a Fort but we have agreed that you may have a House in any Town you think proper,” to be staff ed by no more than ten men. Th ey further requested the presence of a gunsmith in the na- tion to mend their guns.¹³⁸ In sum, what the Creek wanted was not a strong- hold but rather a permanent trading post. Permission for building the fort was subsequently granted but then rescinded.¹³⁹ Th e problem, Wolf of Oakchoy reported, was that “the greater Part of the Indians look upon the Words Fort and Slavery to be synonomous Terms.”¹⁴⁰ Undeterred, the government tried again in 1758 to convince the Creek to allow the building of a fort by detailing for them the benefi ts that the Cherokee derived from the one in their nation, 112 Women and War such as the ability to purchase ammunition and “Cloathing for their Women and Children” and to have access to the services of a blacksmith. Creek resis- tance had not waned, though, and the British again failed to secure the nation’s consent.¹⁴¹ Th e British enjoyed more success, at least in the short term, with the Cher- okee. Yet Cherokee motives are no more consistent with their rhetoric than were those of the British. Th e Cherokee at times borrowed British rhetoric. According to Edmund Atkins, the Cherokee indicated that “they were afraid of the French and their Indians, who were great Warriors & Numerous; being unable of themselves to withstand them, not having [any] place to defend their Wives and Children which they desired might be considered; and earnestly begged, that we would build two Forts in their Towns (Upper Towns) for the protection of their Families.”¹⁴² Th e need for defense should not be dismissed off hand, however, as women were frequently victims of enemy raids.¹⁴³ It was also not unreasonable for the Cherokee to expect the British to help provide protection for their towns. Formal agreements between the Cherokee and the British promised mutual defense and assistance in times of attack.¹⁴⁴ Further, the common assumption in Indian diplomacy was that allies would come to one another’s aid if necessary. In 1756, Kanagatoga demonstrated his sense of the obligation placed on him by his longstanding alliance with the British. Th e old chief proclaimed that the “Governor of Virginia is his Brother.” He went on to say that “he still thinks of the Bones of his Brother’s Children that lies scattered about Hot Stones River” and promised “that if they are not in Peace in Virginia by the Spring he must send some of his Warriors to assist them.”¹⁴⁵ Th e British expressed a similar sense of mutual obligation. Having arrived in South Carolina in 1756, the newly appointed governor William Henry Lyttel- ton addressed a letter to the Creek headmen, promising that he would “in all Th ings tender to your Safety and Preservation as a Father does that of his Children.”¹⁴⁶ Cherokee headmen had another, perhaps more important, reason for fa- voring forts: they desperately desired trade goods. Th e Cherokee themselves generally referred to a fort as a “house,” “strong house,” or even “town.”¹⁴⁷ What they desired was a small trading post; it is doubtful that they envisioned full- scale stone fortifi cations. Indian requests support this conclusion. In 1756, Attakullakulla visited Captain Raymond Demere at Fort Prince George. Re- calling his visit to England some years earlier, he claimed that the king had promised him an outpost in his nation and that “they would have what Th ings Women and War 113 they wanted on good Terms and that now he hoped those Promises of his Father would be made good to them.” He expressed his hope that the gover- nor would “consider their present Situation and let them have a good Trade amongst them, for at present they, their Wives and Children are almost naked.”¹⁴⁸ Attakullakulla’s primary concern was trade, not protection. How- ever, he adeptly borrowed British rhetoric, couching his request for trade in terms of the needs of the women and children. “Emperor” Kanagatoga also made use of the British argument. As Demere wrote to Governor Lyttelton, Kanagatoga “gave me a Hint several Times that he was quite naked himself and that he was an old Man and that Winter was coming on very fast. He re- quested that a small Fort should be fi rst built at in case the Enemy should come upon them and to protect their Wives and Children in case of Danger.”¹⁴⁹ By using the British argument that the fort was for the protection of noncombatants, Kanagatoga hoped to convince the British to build an out- post in his own town, expecting that it would provide him with a more reliable source of merchandise. Although the British had convinced the Cherokee of the value of having outposts in their nation, problems soon arose when the actual execution of British promises failed, in the eyes of the Cherokee, to live up to earlier rheto- ric. Construction of Fort Loudoun began in 1756 but was plagued by diffi cul- ties from the outset. Unclear instructions from Governor Lyttelton left the chain of command unclear, allowing serious confl ict to arise between Demere and the surveyor general, William Gerard DeBrahm, who had been commis- sioned to design the structure. DeBrahm fi rst suggested a location that ap- peared to him strategic, at a fork in the Little Tennessee River, but that drew criticism from Attakullakulla and Kanagatoga. Th e land at the site, they com- plained, was too poor to allow the garrison to grow crops. It was also too far away from any of their own towns and too exposed to the enemy and “would be of no Service to them.”¹⁵⁰ DeBrahm fi nally backed down. Th e Cherokee were also becoming increasingly nervous about British intentions in building the outpost. A Cherokee warrior who had been taken prisoner by the “North- ern” Indians escaped and on his return home reported that his captors had warned him that “the English was a going to build Forts in their Nation which as soon as they had done they would begin to kill and destroy their Headmen and Warriours and make Slaves of their Wives and Children.”¹⁵¹ Confused by the fi nal location of the station (which was some distance from most of the primary Overhills towns), the Cherokee increasingly doubted British asser- 114 Women and War tions that it was really to be for their protection and not to further encroach on their land.¹⁵² Ultimately, however, it was not the realization that Fort Loudoun was poorly located for the protection of their families that would lead to its even- tual destruction; the outpost survived another four years after the discovery of its lack of defensive value. Th e fate of Fort Loudoun would be determined by a complex set of factors.¹⁵³ Continued encroachments on Cherokee lands by South Carolina settlers, particularly along Long Canes Creek, angered war- riors, as did instances of outright violence committed by those settlers that went unpunished.¹⁵⁴ General Forbes’s arrogance toward Cherokee chiefs dur- ing the siege of Fort Duquesne bred further discontent, which grew into out- rage when the warriors were attacked by frontier settlers on their way home through the Virginia backcountry.¹⁵⁵ Th e failure of the Virginia and South Carolina governments to provide justice led to growing violence.¹⁵⁶ Governor Lyttelton’s disastrous decision to take peaceful chiefs hostage in order force the Cherokee to turn over the “murderers” of British settlers, along with the tragic death of those hostages at Fort Prince George, set off the powderkeg.¹⁵⁷ Although frontier violence and diplomatic mismanagement were the lead- ing causes of the war, the forts became particular targets of Cherokee outrage at least in part because they failed to provide the manufactured goods that had been the primary reason headmen had agreed to the outposts. In the years after the construction of the forts, the Cherokee continued to complain of a “want of Goods in their Nation.”¹⁵⁸ In May of 1759, Governor Lyttelton, in retalia- tion for attacks on North Carolina colonists by the people of Settico, ordered Lieutenant Coytmore at Fort Prince George to require all traders in the lower and middle towns to house all their stores of arms and ammunition at the fort. Coytmore complied, stopping some packhorses on their way to the upper na- tion and forcing the men to unload their stocks of powder and bullets. “[A]s soon as the Upper Cherokees heard of [it] they resented it” and responded by attacking and killing an Englishman near Fort Loudoun before setting out for Keowee to demand the supplies. Th e situation quickly escalated. Captain Paul Demere, the commander of Fort Loudoun, reported to the governor that the Overhills people maintained “that if they did not get Ammunition they had nothing to do but kill the white People here, & carry their Scalps to the French who woud supply them with plenty of Ammunition & every Th ing else.”¹⁵⁹ Captain John Stuart at Fort Prince George reported that the Cherokee were increasingly anxious about their lack of powder and shot. Th e seizure of the Women and War 115 traders’ stores simply made matters worse. “Th is day they are to make a formal demand of Benn’s ammunition,” wrote Stuart, “which in the present situation of aff airs, must be denied them; & the consequence will be an open & declared war, which will certainly happen whether the demand be granted or not.”¹⁶⁰ Lyttelton informed the Board of Trade that it was the lack of ammunition that was “the immediate cause of the late Murders and Violences they have com- mitted.”¹⁶¹ Fort Prince George would survive the hostilities, thanks in part to its prox- imity to the British settlements. Fort Loudon, however, was in a much worse position, cut off from communication with the other fort and from any source of provisions or reinforcements. Th e outpost survived for several months under siege only because of supplies brought in by Cherokee women. Lieu- tenant Henry Timberlake reported that many of the soldiers of Fort Loudoun had Cherokee wives, who “brought them a daily supply of provisions, though blocked up, in order to be starved to surrender, by their own countrymen.” Th e irony, probably lost on the British garrison, lay in the fact that the fort, supposedly built for the protection of Indian women and children, depended in its fi nal days on the provisions provided by those very women. Finally, on August 7, 1760, the starving garrison agreed to surrender. However, follow- ing the surrender, on August 10 a party of seven hundred warriors surrounded the retreating garrison and killed “all the offi cers, except Capt. Stuart . . . with between thirty and forty privates, three women, and many others wounded.”¹⁶² Th e reason the Cherokee turned on the garrison after its capitulation is un- clear. Some claim that Demere had violated the surrender agreement by car- rying off a bag of gunpowder. Others point out that the actual number of men killed roughly equaled the number of hostages killed at Fort Prince George earlier that year.¹⁶³ What is clear, however, is that by killing members of the garrison, the Cherokee rejected their old alliance with the British. Th ey also rejected British claims to sovereignty and responsibility for the “protection” of Cherokee women and children. Th e rhetoric surrounding the construction of the British forts in Cherokee country illustrates several things about the role of gender in Anglo- Cherokee diplomatic relations. Both sides believed that they shared common expecta- tions regarding the defense of women and children and thus used that trope to structure their discussions with one another. In both European and American Indian cultures, men took primary responsibility for both the conduct of war- fare and the protection of those members of their society who did not actively 116 Women and War take part in confl ict. However, the methods of such protection and the rationale for it diff ered greatly. For the British, defending women and children involved assumptions of patriarchy absent from Cherokee men’s cosmology. For the Cherokee, safeguarding women was necessary for preserving the clan, because the Cherokee traced inheritance through the mother’s line. Th e loss of women therefore rendered the family incapable of reproducing itself. Th e death of the women would also endanger the productive capacity of the society, because Cherokee women typically did most of the farming. For the British, protecting their communities required male service in the militia and the construction of forts to provide refuge for noncombatants. For the Cherokee, guarding their villages necessitated keeping suffi cient men in the village in times of hostility to supply an adequate defense. Yet while the rationale and methods diff ered radi- cally (and it is doubtful that either side fully comprehended the thinking of the other), the assumption that soldiers and warriors protected civilians furnished Europeans and natives with a shared set of expectations that became a com- mon ground for interaction. Men of diff erent cultures came together to discuss the proper means of defending their homes and families. Further, in Cherokee understandings of diplomacy, allies took responsibility for defending one an- other. Th erefore, the defense of women and children seemed a safe cover for the true intentions of each side. It allowed a common talking point and set of shared metaphors that facilitated the process of diplomacy. On the other hand, the perception of shared values about the role of men in the two societies was a double- edged sword. Th e British found that Indian men failed to live up to European ideals of manly behavior. Natives’ failure to develop suitable weapons and to construct forts revealed that they lacked the ability and determination to adequately defend their families. By labeling Indian males as improper men, Europeans justifi ed subjecting them to Euro- pean authority. British offi cials also assumed responsibility for the protection of Indian women and children, using the imperiled situation of Indian fami- lies to assert their “paternal concern” and ultimately justify their claims to sov- ereignty. Th e end of the Cherokee War and the fi nal defeat of the Cherokee by a combined force of South Carolina and Virginia militia and British regulars under James Grant eliminated the need for this kind of gendered rhetoric in diplomacy, at least between the British and the Cherokee. Th e treaty concluded between South Carolina and the Cherokee, represented by Attakullakulla, re- quired the Cherokee to return Fort Loudoun to the British and allowed South Women and War 117 Carolina and Virginia to build “such forts as they deemed necessary.”¹⁶⁴ Hav- ing eliminated the threat of French intrigues among the Cherokee, the Brit- ish would fi nd that their primary concern would be managing the deerskin trade and preventing hostilities between the Cherokee and land-hungry British settlers. In this charged atmosphere, the rhetoric shifted away from the pater- nal care by the British in protecting Cherokee women and children to their role in providing for them through the supply of trade goods. Th e assumptions of sovereignty had not been rejected, although their expression had changed. Th e British would continue to assume their right to supremacy over the Cherokee until Britain’s ouster from the continent during the American Revolution. 4  Guns and Garters men, women, and the trade

key motivator leading British offi cials and native headmen to avoid A the open hostilities of war was the deerskin trade. Introduced on a lim- ited scale by explorers and a few itinerant peddlers, commerce soon became es- sential to the lifestyle of most southeastern nations, as well as a profi table and, in the early years, crucial part of the southern colonial economy. Yet the trade itself would have a profound impact on Native American societies, introduc- ing foreign goods into distant towns and requiring a reorientation of subsis- tence practices. Indian responses to the trade were distinctly gendered. Men and women expanded and adapted traditional roles to meet the new realities of the trade and to fi nd new ways to obtain access to coveted imported goods. Th e eff ect of the trade on native women was one of the earliest topics to at- tract the interest of feminist historians, although the scholarship has changed substantially over the years. In the 1980s, many historians and anthropologists argued that the introduction of trade disrupted the gender balance in native societies. Th e expansion of men’s hunting increased the status of male hunt- ers as their occupations became increasingly important for the tribal economy. Women correspondingly became more dependent on men to provide manufac- tured goods, which came to replace traditional craft items produced by women. As their economic contribution became sidelined by the trade, women’s status and infl uence within native society declined.¹ More recently, however, schol- ars have moderated this view, taking a more balanced position on the eff ect of the trade on native women. In particular, scholars whose work focuses on the Southeast have begun to argue that men’s and women’s economic roles, al- though renegotiated to meet the needs of the expanding trade, represented an adaptation of traditional gendered divisions of labor rather than a stark trans- formation of older ways. Th e persistence of women’s agricultural labors was especially important in mitigating women’s dependency on men. Further, be- Men, Women, and the Trade 119 cause women were less directly involved in the trade than men, they became less dependent on it, and it had less impact on their traditional roles.² Th is revised view of the trade off ers a much-needed corrective to earlier de- clension narratives. However, in emphasizing women’s relative isolation from the trade and greater traditionalism, scholars have often underestimated wom- en’s active engagement in the trade, as well as the infl uence of women’s demand for trade goods on shaping and driving it. Women were far more directly in- volved in the trade, and at a much earlier date, than is usually recognized. Brit- ish writers did not always indicate who traded or under what circumstances, and historians have often assumed that transactions were conducted by men, when in many cases they were not. Further, even in instances in which men ex- changed merchandise, they often sold products produced by women. Women’s interest in and insistence upon manufactured goods had a much greater role in shaping trade than is usually acknowledged. Th e whole society, not just men, became dependent on the trade, and it is diffi cult to separate women’s depen- dency from men’s. Th ere was also a greater diversity in men’s adaptations to the trade than is often discussed. Beyond the expansion of men’s hunting activities, the trade produced a substantial number of other new occupations that drew upon men’s traditional labors. How much men altered older gender norms to take on these new occupations depended on a variety of factors, including status, individual ability, and proximity to British settlements. Men in more distant inland soci- eties remained more resistant to change than those living closer to centers of British society. Although the eff ect of exchange on Anglo- Indian relations and on native communities is well documented, the role of gender in shaping negotiations about the trade and the form it took is less familiar.³ By the mid-eighteenth century, a common gendered language emerged that emphasized the role of men as providers for the needs of women and children. Th is new rhetoric could be utilized in multiple ways to try to infl uence diplomatic negotiations and was manipulated by both British offi cials and native headmen to try to gain a moral advantage at the bargaining table. In addition, notions of proper gendered be- havior infl uenced the conduct of the trade. Th e British tried to shape exchange relations in ways that were useful to them and sought to convince the Indians to perform tasks that benefi ted the British economy. To their frustration, how- ever, they encountered Indian gender norms that sometimes were conducive to their goals but sometimes were not. Th e British would have to adapt as well, 120 Men, Women, and the Trade discovering that the Indians would only perform tasks that made sense to them and were infl exible when it came to doing work that contradicted their notions of gender-appropriate labor. Finding Indian gender roles less malleable than they had hoped, the British would ultimately try to insert themselves as the providers for Indian women and children in order to gain control of the trade, as well as to further justify their claims to sovereignty.

“Their Women, and Children Must Eat Asshes for Salt”: Women and the Demand for Trade Goods

In 1709, Oboystabee, a chief warrior of the Chickasaw, reportedly told Th omas Nairne that in his nation the “ladies are so pleased to look sparkling in the dances, with the Cloaths bought from the English, that they would be very loath any diff erence should happen, least they again be reduced to their old wear of painted Buff eloe Calf skins.”⁴ Some years later, the Euchee (Yuchi) chief Captain Alleck discussed the possibility of returning to live in the British settlements with Edmund Atkins. Alleck complained that “he was poor & un- able to maintain his Family in his own country in the manner they had lived” when they were among the British. Alleck’s problem was exacerbated by the fact that “[h]is wives therefore were often complaining that they did not live so well there as they had done.”⁵ Clearly, the need to accommodate his wives’ de- sire for European merchandise guided Captain Alleck’s decisions. In native societies, both men and women demanded manufactured goods, a factor that shaped the nature of the trade. Most traders made concerted eff orts to provide those items demanded by their customers. Lists of commodities shipped to Indian towns include items of interest to people of all ages and gen- ders. In many ways, women’s interest in European goods helped shape and drive the trade. Women sought to fi nd their own methods of obtaining coveted mer- chandise, or they insisted that male family members supply them with goods that they needed or wanted. (Interestingly, the Choctaw word for “woman,” ohoyo, can also be translated “a person who makes demands.”)⁶ European goods satisfi ed both men’s and women’s desires for markers of status and for simple comfort and convenience, and women became eager consumers. Eventually, women’s desire for manufactures would become a topic of discussion between British and native leaders, providing an additional kind of gendered rhetoric, this time based on the material support of women and children. Women found a number of diff erent means by which to acquire Euro- Men, Women, and the Trade 121 pean goods. Some women directly requested supplies from British offi cials, in the form of either gifts or trade goods. In 1741, Queen Tenorky specifi cally re- quested “a Bl of Flowr: & Bl Biscuit” from William Ewen, majordomo to Jacob Mathews and Mary Musgrove.⁷ It is not clear whether the “queen” requested these goods as a gift or in exchange for some gift of her own or for services rendered. She and her people had provided a considerable amount of aid to the Georgia settlement in its early years, and she probably did not consider her request “begging.” When goods were not forthcoming, women as well as men might simply help themselves. In 1751, a group from the Cherokee towns of Stecoee and Counnoutorie, “Men and Women, took Mr. Hug[hs’] Goods, and Leather, and Horses, and back Saddles. Th e Goods they tore al[l in P]ieces and divided them among themselves.”⁸ At the congress with the Creek at Pen- sacola, Chief Emistesegoe informed the British that “the Women in My Nation are apt to Steal Horses as well as the Young men.”⁹ Not all goods were equally desired. Some of the most frequently traded and urgently demanded items during the colonial period were muskets, bul- lets, powder, and fl ints. Ammunition in particular “by them [Indians] is most prized.”¹⁰ As fi rearms came to replace bows and arrows as native men’s weap- ons of choice, the urgency of trade increased. Most native nations did not re- alistically have the option of not adopting guns, nor do many seem to have re- sisted these new European commodities until well into the eighteenth century when they became alarmed at the degree of their dependency on the British.¹¹ Th e lessons of the early contact period demonstrated the necessity of acquiring and learning to use fi rearms. Th ose tribes farther from European settlements and cut off from the trade found themselves decimated by neighbors who had access to the new weapons.¹² Men also desired guns for hunting, which allowed them not only to feed their families but also to acquire deerskins to purchase more guns and other items. As hunting and warfare remained the most impor- tant avenues for men to achieve status, the need for European weapons would drive the trade. It should be pointed out, however, that women’s demands for goods and for captives to replace lost family members also spurred men’s acqui- sition of these items. Other goods also supported men’s military activities. No parcel of trade commodities or offi cial presents was complete without vermil- ion paint (used to make warriors look fearsome in battle) and hatchets.¹³ Although the gun trade clearly catered to men, the distribution of other goods was less clear. Overall, the most commonly purchased commodities in- cluded textiles, ready-made clothing, and blankets.¹⁴ Also necessary thereto 122 Men, Women, and the Trade were sewing materials such as needles, thread, scissors, buttons, buckles, rib- bons, and gartering. People of all ages and genders required clothing, a need increasingly fi lled by the trade. Women demanded that their men bring home textiles and sewing materials, further driving commerce. For women, access to fi nished garments and European fabrics reduced the burden of produc- ing clothing. Ready- made items, obtained either through trade or as gifts, re- quired little if any work on the part of women. Woven cloth was much easier to work with than animal hides, making women’s job of producing garments for their families less arduous. Increasing reliance on imported fabrics and fi n- ished garments did not, however, signifi cantly increase women’s dependence on men. Men had always had the responsibility of providing the animal skins and other products (bone for needles and sinews for sewing) with which women produced the family’s clothing and footwear.¹⁵ With the beginning of trade, bartered goods came to replace leather as the primary medium for producing wearing apparel. Th e responsibility for providing the materials to make the family’s garments remained with the men, while the task of producing fi nished items still fell to women. In this way, most native tribes merely reoriented their traditional divisions of labor to meet the new reality of the deerskin trade. One of the most frequently traded items, and one of the most problem- atic, was alcohol. Both men and women consumed rum, often combining it with brown sugar (another imported commodity) to make punch.¹⁶ Bernard Romans reported that the Choctaw often held drinking matches in which the women joined the men, fi rst having taken away all the weapons they could fi nd in order to prevent disasters. Women could turn men’s desire for rum to their own advantage. When the men off ered them a sip from their bottles, the women took it “and when not observed they empt[ied] it into the callebash,” which they had hidden under their cloaks. Th e women often accumulated sev- eral bottles, which they then watered down to make more. Th is diluted rum they later sold back to the men. Romans noted that “in this way of trade they [would] often get all the eff ects the men can command for such a delicate nec- tar.”¹⁷ Th is tactic allowed women an additional means to acquire merchandise that they desired at the men’s expense. Rum became a problem for women in several ways. Women as well as men developed drinking problems, disrupting their family lives and draining them of the ability to provide for their families. Excessive alcohol consumption put women at risk of sexual abuse and exploitation, both by traders and by men from their own communities. John Lawson reported, “When they [native men] Men, Women, and the Trade 123 have a Design to lie with a Woman, which they cannot obtain any otherwise than by a larger Reward than they are able to give, they then strive to make her drunk, which a great many of them will be; then they take the Advantage, to do with them what they please.”¹⁸ Men, though, probably consumed greater quan- tities of alcohol because they had more contact with Europeans and engaged more directly in the trade. Further, because men traded deerskins for cloth- ing, blankets, and other goods needed by women and children, men’s alcohol abuse had far-ranging eff ects. Men who traded away their skins for alcohol not only left themselves without guns or other necessities but also left their fami- lies naked. Whereas in the precontact period men brought the bounties of the hunt directly home to be cooked and skinned by the women, once trade began many men met traders on the trail and sold their unprocessed skins directly, often purchasing rum instead of necessities. Th is disrupted the traditional rec- iprocity between men and women in which women supplied agricultural pro- duce, while men brought in meat and leather. One British offi cial complained that the men were “always about the Storehouses drinking of Rum and instead of buying Cloaths for themselves and their Wives & Children they gave their Skins for that Liquor.”¹⁹ Lieutenant Governor William Bull of South Carolina complained that the liquor trade had the eff ect of “debauching and intoxicat- ing them, with rum, and other strong liquors, and thereby taking them off from their natural Industry and love to hunting whereby they used to provide for the Support of themselves and familys.”²⁰ Th e expansion of trade as the century progressed simply exacerbated the problem. A woman whose husband or male relatives were skillful hunters and avoided the pitfalls of the liquor trade suf- fered little inconvenience. If a woman’s husband or relatives developed prob- lems with rum, however, she might see a portion of her livelihood disappear before the men even returned home. Alcohol, then, appears to have produced the most negative eff ects that women experienced in relation to the trade. It should be noted, however, that because most Indian families continued to live in multifamily units, no woman was ever completely dependent upon one man for her supply of meat or clothing. If a husband failed to meet his obligations, a woman could depend on her other male relatives for help. While clothing, blankets, and rum were desired by both men and women and their acquisition fi tted neatly into precontact gendered divisions of labor, some items purchased through the trade clearly were utilized by women. Most parcels of trade goods included cooking utensils and brass (or later tin) pots and pans. Th e introduction of European cookware had a dual eff ect on native 124 Men, Women, and the Trade women. Previously, women had relied exclusively on their own manufactures, cooking meals in earthenware pots that they placed over the hot coals and baking bread on heated rocks. Th ey roasted meat on spits over an open fi re.²¹ Metal vessels and utensils proved more convenient, because they did not crack or require transporting hot coals. Purchasing these items freed women from the task of making their own cooking equipment if they so chose. On the other hand, women became increasingly dependent upon imported goods. Women at times bartered directly with European traders, while at others they requested that their husbands, brothers, or sons acquire these goods for them.²² Although female production of ceramics and other handicrafts may have declined somewhat because of the introduction of Western manufactures, it was not eliminated. Traveling in the Southeast in the 1770s, William Bartram noted that the women would still “make all their pottery or earthen- ware.”²³ Adair also noted that Cherokee women made “earthen pots of very diff erent sizes, so as to contain from two to ten gallons; large pitchers to carry water; bowls, dishes, platters, basons, and a prodigious number of other vessels.”²⁴ Th ey also manufactured wooden dishes and spoons.²⁵ Imported metal pots, then, appear to have supplemented, rather than replaced, women’s own handi- crafts. While trade goods were useful luxuries, women were by no means wholly dependent upon them for their cooking needs.²⁶ In addition to shaping the trade, women’s desire for European goods had implications for diplomatic relations as well. By the mid- eighteenth century, native headmen and British (and French) offi cials began to make strategic use of an emerging rhetoric of supporting women and children. In this new diplo- matic language, both parties portrayed men as providers for their families. Th is expression of shared masculine responsibility supplied a common ground that could then be used by each side to try to advance its own particular aims. Th e origin of the rhetoric is not entirely clear. Offi cial records put the words in the mouths of both colonial offi cials and chiefs at roughly the same time. However, after decades of sustained contact, Indian men would doubtless often have heard traders and perhaps offi cials as well speak of men’s obligation to provide for “dependents.” Although fully aware of women’s contributions to village subsistence, men still found aspects of the trope useful. Native men ac- cepted the supply of materials for garments and animal fl esh as their primary economic responsibility. Th e overlap between European assumptions that a man had the obligation to support his family and native awareness of men’s contributions to the family economy provided a language that each side could manipulate to meet discrete diplomatic goals. Men, Women, and the Trade 125 Headmen often used the needs of women and children to urge the forma- tion of advantageous alliances or to explain the rejection of others. In 1745, the Chickasaw refused French overtures to throw off their British “brothers” and make peace with the French. “Th e red men,” the Chickasaw told French offi cials, “who are their [the Frenchmen’s] allies . . . go with out breeches, the women and children have no blankets to protect themselves against the cold.” Trade with the British, on the other hand, supplied the Chickasaw’s needs quite well.²⁷ Cherokee headmen also emphasized the importance of their al- liance with the British. An old Cherokee headman and conjurer named Jacob discouraged his townsmen from making an alliance with the French. Th e French, he reportedly told them, could not supply them; without the British, “their Women, and Children must eat Asshes for Salt.”²⁸ In these cases, po- litical decisions were justifi ed based on the needs of the women and children. Recognizing British concerns for the protection and support of women and children, native leaders might use the plight of their families to convince British offi cials to supply aid to their nations. In this way, chiefs manipulated European gender norms to advance their own agendas. In 1754, a group of Chickasaw headmen sent a letter to Governor James Glen, reminding him of their friendship with the British and begging for assistance. Surrounded by enemies, the Chickasaw maintained that “it is impossible for us to kill Dear to buy Cloathing for ourselves, our Wives, and Children.”²⁹ Four years later the situation was even worse. Th e Chickasaw lamented that they could not even purchase ammunition because they were unable to hunt. Only extreme neces- sity, they added, would make them ask for guns and supplies.³⁰ Natives could also use the needs of their families as an excuse for rejecting British demands. In 1757, leading chief Gun Merchant indicated his determination to protect Creek boundaries against all British and French encroachments because his people “had not any other Way of getting their Living but by Hunting to get Cloathes for their Wives and Children.”³¹ Although it manipulated European notions of the responsibility of men to provide for their families, native rhetoric demonstrated that a consider- able amount of continuity persisted in native ideas about the responsibilities of men toward women and children. Native rhetoric often focused on men’s role in supplying meat and fabric or garments, items that had long been part of men’s economic contributions. Supplying apparel in particular often fi gured prominently in chiefs’ speeches. In 1757, the “prince” of Chote claimed that the men “were obliged to go a Hunting to kill Skins to purchase Cloaths for them- selves, their Wives and Children, who were all naked.”³² Meat was mentioned 126 Men, Women, and the Trade less often but was still a signifi cant concern. Declining a meeting with Gover- nor William Henry Lyttelton in 1756, the Lower Creek added that they would be glad to meet him but were obliged “to go a hunting both to pay our Debts and get Meat for our Families.”³³ French and British offi cials tried to advance their own goals by playing on native concerns about the support of their women and children. While often discounting women’s labors as agricultural producers, British offi cials empha- sized the responsibilities of men to provide for their families. Similar to the ways in which they tried to persuade natives to allow forts in their nations by voicing concern for the protection of native women and children, governors and agents brought up the question of supplying necessities for the women and children when trying to convince their Indian allies to maintain their friend- ship and to pursue actions they favored. In 1740, Jadart de Beauchamp warned the Choctaw not to renounce their alliance with the French. Th e British, he in- sisted, would not be able to furnish them with what they needed, adding “thus your women and your children will die of want.”³⁴ Without French goods, es- pecially guns and ammunition, native men would not be able to hunt and feed their families, Beauchamp implied. Offi cials could also use this argument to pressure Indian nations to observe the peace. In 1767, the governor of Georgia sent a talk to the Creek nation, complaining of disturbances on the frontier and warning them to adhere to the terms of their treaty. It was to the Creek’s own benefi t, he reminded them, to comply with his demands, because they were re- liant upon British goods. “[W]ithout having Guns and Ammunition what deer could you kill?” he asked rhetorically, “and how could you cloath your Selves and your Women and Children if you had not goods from us . . . ?”³⁵ Th e British also recommended changes to women’s traditional occupations. Trying to convince the Cherokee of the value of the newly built Fort Lou - doun, Governor Lyttelton added as a bonus that “[t]he White Women who will live there will instruct the Red Women to make all things as are necessary for them and will live together as one” with them.³⁶ Lyttelton clearly hoped that the Cherokee women, often considered by Europeans to be the most pro- ductive members of native society, would adopt appropriately domestic skills such as spinning and weaving.³⁷ European offi cials also used the supposed plight of native families to assert themselves as providers for native women, thereby further denigrating native men. In 1757, while concluding a treaty with the Upper and Lower Creek head- men, Governor Henry Ellis of Georgia reminded them of their need for the Men, Women, and the Trade 127 British. “You see your selves covered with our Gifts,” he told the visiting chiefs and warriors; “your Wives, your Children, your Houses, all wear Marks of our unceasing Benevolence—You cannot but have heard how wretched you were before we became your Friends—Th e Skins of Fowles and wild Beasts were then your best Raiment.”³⁸ In 1768, in a letter to the Creek headman Emistese- goe, Ellis reminded the people that before the British arrived, “the Red People being unacquainted with and unskilled in the Arts and Sciences were under great Diffi culties in cloathing themselves, and had no Ornaments for their Women.” With the arrival of the British traders, however, they learned the use of guns and had been well clothed and supplied.³⁹ By maligning native man- hood and proclaiming themselves providers for native women and children, the British further justifi ed their own claims of sovereignty. Because warriors failed to supply their women adequately, the British concluded, their depen- dents needed British protection and support. Women’s demand for goods, therefore, had signifi cant implications for the conduct of the trade and for the diplomatic relationships that supported it. Women’s desire for clothing, ornaments, and cooking utensils shaped the nature of the trade and drove the actions of husbands and brothers, who strove to provide those goods that women wanted. Many of the European goods that men provided for their families simply replaced items that they had always pro- vided or complemented other tools that communities continued to produce for themselves. By the mid-eighteenth century, women’s interest in manufactured items was noticeable enough that it was incorporated into the offi cial language of southeastern diplomacy and fi gured prominently in cross-cultural conversa- tions for the remainder of the colonial period.

“She Is Agoing to Buy Us Some Corn”: Women and the Trade

To supply their desire for European goods, native women involved themselves directly in the trade. Evidence of women’s activities of all kinds is unfortunately scanty, but surviving documents hint at a broader, hidden world of women’s economic endeavors. Th at Englishmen reported women’s trading activities without comment or evidence of surprise indicates that they were common. In this way women’s regular participation in commerce belies the rhetoric sup- plied by elite men in both British and native society. Although male diplo- matic language emphasized men’s responsibility for providing manufactured goods for their families, women found ways to acquire these items on their 128 Men, Women, and the Trade own. Rather than taking on men’s traditional roles in order to access com- modities, though, women adapted particularly feminine forms of labor to the new realities of the trade. Th ey reoriented their work as agricultural producers, manufacturers, or wives to obtain the merchandise they desired. Older tradi- tions of reciprocity also survived, and the majority of women’s trade appears to have centered on providing for the needs of the household.⁴⁰ A number of items produced by women became objects of trade, including baskets, prepared foodstuff s, and especially agricultural produce. Th is last cat- egory constituted women’s most important contribution to the native economy and also women’s most important trade goods. Th e degree to which women could trade crops depended on a number of factors, including the proximity of European settlements, the number of traders and their employees in the nation at any given time, and the size of the surpluses available for trade. Th e nature of the trade in foodstuff s, especially how much food was ex- changed, and by whom, is often very unclear. For coastal tribes, the sale of agricultural produce began almost immediately upon the arrival of the En- glish. In 1670, the Carolina Council, reporting from the new settlement on the Ashley River, claimed that “wee haue been put to purchase our maintenance from the Indians, & yt in such small parcells, as we could hardly get another supply before the former was gone.” Although the crucial nature of Indian pro- visions for the survival of the early settlements is clear, the council did not in- dicate what kinds of crops or meat they purchased or in what quantities, nor from whom. Traders may have negotiated with women directly for their pro- duce, or they may have made deals with the town headmen.⁴¹ Similarly, in 1713, the commissary general of Louisiana, Jean- Baptiste DuBois Duclos, reported to his superiors that “[a]long the banks of the St. Louis River, . . . one always fi nds or Indian corn in abundance which one can get very cheaply from the Indians in exchange for merchandise.”⁴² Although in this case the French settlers clearly purchased women’s agricultural produce, Duclos does not indi- cate who sold it to them or under what circumstances. Especially in the early years of contact, purchases of large quantities of corn may have involved the local headmen, serving either as the representative of the town or as a proxy for the women. During the Mississippian era, chiefs claimed tribute in food and labor and regularly appropriated surplus agricul- tural produce for the use of the chiefl y matrilineage and other elites. Large public granaries stored these foodstuff s. Control of surpluses allowed chiefs to display wealth and status and to redistribute food to create alliances. Many Men, Women, and the Trade 129 chiefs lost the ability to control land and labor in the postcontact period, but the town granary and the chief ’s right to redistribute its produce survived, al- though in somewhat attenuated form.⁴³ William Bartram noted that in his travels through the Creek nation in the late 1770s, the chief of each village had “the disposal of the corn and fruits in the public or national granary.” Th e granary was supplied by contributions of each family at the time of the har- vest. In times of shortage, families might apply for assistance. Th e storehouse also might be used to aid other towns that were in want, supply provisions for war parties or for visitors, or trade with outsiders.⁴⁴ Whether coastal groups shared this tradition is not entirely clear, but local chiefs probably had at least some role in arranging the exchange of foodstuff s. Interestingly, women may have gained greater control over agricultural sur- pluses during the historic era than they had had during the Mississippian era. Archaeological studies indicate that during the eighteenth century, household- based food storage facilities emerged among the Creek, suggesting that house- holds enjoyed greater control of surplus produce.⁴⁵ Women were then able to market these surpluses to Europeans directly rather than supplying corn to the chiefl y storehouse for redistribution by the elites. Th is provided women with both greater control over the fruits of their labors and more individualized ac- cess to trade goods. While public stores might have supplied the needs of larger groups of vis- iting Europeans, especially during the early years, individual traders probably negotiated directly with women for small quantities of food that they needed or supplied women with manufactures for other goods and services. Th ese small transactions often escaped the notice of the record keepers and there- fore largely went undocumented. A few extant examples, however, reveal the outlines of small-scale exchange between traders and native women. Th omas Nairne marveled at the abundance of wild strawberries growing in the Chick- asaw old fi elds, adding that the “woman supplyed me with these and were well pleased upon receaving 2 or 3 strings of small beads in return.”⁴⁶ In this case, because the strawberries were the product of women’s gathering, it was the women and not men who determined to whom they would be distributed. Women’s trade, though, also is diffi cult to separate from traditions of hospi- tality. While Nairne viewed his transaction with the women as simple trade, the women likely off ered their produce to him in the form of a gift and were pleased when Nairne reciprocated in kind.⁴⁷ Often, though, early travelers did not indicate from whom they purchased foodstuff s. Lawson reported, with 130 Men, Women, and the Trade much satisfaction, that he “bought, for 2 or 3 Flints, a large Peach-Loaf, made up with a pleasant sort of Seed.”⁴⁸ Flints, necessary for fi ring a gun, were of in- terest to men, although women also used them to start cooking fi res. Lawson may have traded directly with his hostess for the bread, or her husband or son may have traded food she had provided in order to acquire the fl ints.⁴⁹ Women’s trading was not limited to foodstuff s. Items of women’s manu- facture made their way into colonial trading networks as well. Offi cials and travelers acquired handmade baskets and other women’s handicrafts in the na- tions.⁵⁰ Th e South Carolina factor Th eophilus Hastings requested permission to “purchase a few Baskets, and such other small Th ings, to the Value of twenty Pounds per Annum, to make Presents of to his Friends” while he was among the Cherokee.⁵¹ Indian baskets show up in several estate inventories in the fi rst part of the eighteenth century. In 1733, the estate of former commissioner of Indian aff airs John Herbert included several “Indian Carpet[s]” and numer- ous “Indian baskets.”⁵² Naturalist John Brickell noted in 1737 that many na- tives made “Mats, Baskets, and Dressing Boxes,” and that “they sell these to the Planters when they come down amongst them to dispose of their Deer- Skins, Furs, and other Commodities.”⁵³ Again, the record is not clear about who ac- tually completed the transaction. Trade in baskets had diminished by the time Adair published his account of the southeastern Indians in 1775. “Formerly,” he reported, “those baskets which the Cheerake made, were so highly esteemed even in South Carolina, the politest of our colonies, for domestic usefulness, beauty, and skilful variety, that a large nest of them cost upwards of a moidore.” Th e trade itself may well have been to blame. “Th e Indians, by reason of our supplying them so cheap with every sort of goods, have forgotten the chief part of their ancient mechanical skill,” he concluded.⁵⁴ Women’s labor contributed to the trade in other ways as well. Kathryn Hol- land Braund has demonstrated that “commercial hunting became a joint eco- nomic venture for Creek men and women.” Creek women’s labor was required to process deerskins for the trade, scraping the fl esh from the hides and then stretching, smoking, and drying them. “Skins dressed by the Indians,” Braund notes, “were more valuable than raw skins, refl ecting the women’s additional labor and a superior product.” Th e expansion of the trade probably greatly in- creased the amount of labor women expended in processing deerskins needed to purchase other items. Women’s contribution in preparing hides also gave them some claim to the goods that men received for trading them.⁵⁵ In this way, the native household economy still relied on the cooperative work of both Men, Women, and the Trade 131 men and women. Th e amount of women’s labor required for curing skins var- ied from tribe to tribe, however. Among the Cherokee, women experienced fewer such demands and consequently were more isolated from the pressures of the expanding hunt.⁵⁶ Women’s trading, like their labor in preparing deerskins, cannot be sepa- rated from a larger household economy. In keeping with native customs of reciprocity, men and women worked together to supply the needs of all family members. Men traded on behalf of their wives or sisters, returning the mer- chandise they received to them. Women in turn shared the goods they acquired with their families. In 1716, a Cherokee woman named Peggy brought a French captive to Charles Town. Peggy’s brother had purchased this French man (per- haps from other Cherokee warriors) for a gun, a white duff el matchcoat, a cutlass, and some powder and paint. Peggy requested that the “Gun might be returned, and that the Value of the Rest of the Goods might be paid her in Strouds.” Th e commissioners agreed to provide Peggy with a gun as well as a “Suit of Calicoe Cloaths, for herself, and a Suit of Stuff and a Hat, for her Son.” She also received eight yards of strouds. It is unknown why Peggy rather than her brother traveled to Charles Town. Following traditional practices in which women controlled the fate of captives, Peggy may have asserted her au- thority within the matrilineal clan system and claimed the Frenchman as her own. Personal ties also may have aff ected the decision of who should make the long trek to Charles Town. Peggy enjoyed a friendly relationship with her na- tion’s factor, Hastings. She traveled with him, and he strongly supported her case, informing the commissioners of her loyalty and service to the British. He also left some goods belonging to the colony (strouds, bullets, and skins) in her corn house. If Peggy had closer ties with Hastings than her brother did, she was the logical choice to make the journey.⁵⁷ Further, while Peggy was in Charles Town, her brother could continue hunting, or he may have gone out to war again. Peggy’s work was less aff ected because she made the trip after the fall harvest. In the end, however, the trade benefi ted both Peggy and her brother (who recouped his gun thanks to his sister’s bargaining). Although British offi cials rarely recognized women’s trading activities, head- men were well aware of its importance and were willing to use it to advance their own political aims. In 1751, the Raven of Euphersee (Cherokee) sent a talk to Governor Glen of South Carolina, regarding his eff orts to make satisfaction for the attack on trader Bernard Hughes. Hoping to take the pressure off his own village, he recommended that withholding the trade from the guilty towns 132 Men, Women, and the Trade would soon convince them to make amends. “[T]hey themselves,” he told Glen, “and their Women and Children should have weary Leggs to walk to Traders in other Towns to buy what they want.” Th en they would “acknowledge their Faults, and see the Want of a white Man.”⁵⁸ Th e Raven’s knowledge of women’s direct involvement in the trade suggested a workable diplomatic solution. Women’s trading could sometimes be as problematic as that of men. In 1756, Captain Raymond Demere wrote to Governor Lyttelton of a disturbance that occurred in the Cherokee town of Tomotley. Th e trader John Elliott had brought rum to the nation, which he kept in his house. “An Indian Wench having got Rum there,” Demere reported, “wanted more, and one Th ompson, a Packhorseman to Mr. Elliott, turned her out of the House and used her ill.” Th e woman rallied help, whom Th ompson drove away from the house with a stick. Th e situation escalated from there. “Th e Wench run for a Gun,” De- mere wrote, “and gave it to her Husband who shot the said Th ompson with a Ball through the Th igh, of which Wound it is expected he will shortly die.”⁵⁹ In this case, a woman’s desire for liquor proved fatal. Th at she went to El- liot’s house alone and had acquired rum there before suggests that she traded with the merchant on a regular basis on her own account. Th e volatility of the rum trade and Th ompson’s own drunkenness contributed to the disastrous outcome. Coastal peoples engaged in extensive commerce with Europeans very early on and became actively engaged in the provisioning trade, or what Daniel Us- ner has called the “frontier exchange economy.”⁶⁰ For groups like the Cherokee, Creek, Chickasaw, and Choctaw, however, Euro- American markets were too far distant to allow this kind of interaction before the mid- eighteenth century. As settlers began moving closer to native communities, however, women began to have the opportunity to trade their produce in new ways. Th e Cherokee case can be illustrative. A small-scale trade in food and other household goods arose in the 1750s between Cherokee and British women in new frontier com- munities like that established along Long Cane Creek. Such localized com- merce supplied Cherokee women with goods they might not otherwise have had access to through the deerskin trade (like butter or domestic manufac- tures), while also creating relationships between native and British women.⁶¹ Further, as settler encroachment on native territory put increasing pressure on the region’s wildlife population, men began to travel further and further afi eld in search of game. Men’s extended absences on hunting or military expeditions may have required women to trade more extensively than they had in earlier Men, Women, and the Trade 133 years, seeking out both established traders and new settlers for the goods their families required.⁶² For Cherokee women, the construction of Forts Prince George and Lou- doun had a much more signifi cant eff ect and substantially altered the way they thought about their crops. Th e men building and garrisoning the forts needed provisions, which they frequently purchased from the Cherokee. In 1756, Cap- tain Raymond Demere employed an Indian woman named Nancy to buy corn for the troops at Fort Loudoun.⁶³ Initially, the women appear to have traded grain for salt, but as Cherokee need for that commodity was limited, Demere soon found himself having to fi nd other goods to trade.⁶⁴ In 1757, he requested that the wife of the “Emperor” of the middle Cherokee town of Tellico (some distance from Loudoun) buy corn for him at her town, having heard that “there [was] a large Quantity there and the Women [would] be glad to dispose of some for Necessaries.”⁶⁵ Th e ability of the offi cers to procure provisions for their troops depended on several factors, including the quality and quantity of the Cherokee’s own harvest (which determined the amount of surplus available to the women to trade), women’s willingness to trade their grain to the British, and the availability of goods that the women wanted.⁶⁶ Whether women in other nations were able to sell their own agricultural produce the way the Cherokee women did is uncertain. Among the Choctaw, chiefs retained greater control of the trade than in other nations, as French traders conducted business through the local headmen. Such a system prob- ably minimized the degree of independent trading by women. After 1763, how- ever, when the British took over the trade, both licensed and especially unli- censed traders exchanged goods directly with individual hunters and women, bypassing chiefs. As a result, individuals became more directly tied to markets and actively engaged in obtaining goods through commerce with the British.⁶⁷ By the 1770s, Choctaw women had begun raising new crops and trading them in towns like Mobile and New Orleans.⁶⁸ In addition to trading on their own account, by midcentury native women may also have operated stores. Running short of food in 1759, Captain Paul Demere, who had taken over the command of Fort Loudoun from his brother, “sent the Woman that has the Care of the Store to buy some Necessaries of Life” in Charles Town. She brought with her “a Nest of Indian Basketts, and a Beaver’s Skin” for the governor.⁶⁹ It is not known how this woman came to have charge of the store. She may well have been married to a trader or to one of the soldiers. She is possibly the Nancy who had purchased corn at the 134 Men, Women, and the Trade behest of the elder Demere three years earlier. It is clear, however, that this woman’s role as an intermediary in the trade was crucial for the fort’s survival. Demere evidently trusted her enough to send her to Charles Town for supplies and to carry back any orders he might receive from the governor. Wives of traders regularly involved themselves in their husbands’ trading businesses, sometimes trading on their behalf. Th e Creek wife of trader Rich- ard Bailey shared “in all the toils of her husband . . . [and] attended the pack horses to market, swam rivers to facilitate the transportation of their goods.”⁷⁰ Women’s involvement in the trade could also serve to circumvent British laws. David Taitt noted that Francis Lewis made it “a Common practice to give Rum to his wench for to purchase back the goods from the Indians, which he has before sold or Trusted them with, so that he is Obliged to fi tt them out a Sec- ond time on Credit, which greatly increases their Debts to his Employer, but is a great profi t to himself.”⁷¹ Such actions were illegal, but Lewis avoided penal- ties by getting his wife (who as a Creek woman was beyond the jurisdiction of the British government) to do his dirty work. Wives of traders had access to the storehouses and often knew their husbands’ business inside and out, look- ing out for their interests when they were away from the village. In this way, many came to understand the monetary value of goods and of European- style commerce. By the end of the colonial period, women had begun to take on an addi- tional occupation as herders of livestock. Th e transition was not always an easy one, and timing diff ered from nation to nation, although in general the shift did not occur until the latter part of the eighteenth century.⁷² Th e Cherokee appear to have been raising hogs as early as the 1750s, although they resisted cattle until later.⁷³ Th e Choctaw had begun raising cattle by the 1770s. Women integrated livestock into their farming labors, tending the animals and produc- ing dairy products. Livestock raising, therefore, provided women with another entrée into the trade.⁷⁴ Indian women were not the only female participants in the trade. British women also took part, either as partners with their husbands or sometimes as traders in their own right. In 1718, the commissioners of the Indian trade noted that when Hugh Hext traded with a party of Indians, contrary to the existing law, his wife was present. Surviving records do not indicate whether Mrs. Hext herself took part or merely observed. She was not, however, igno- rant of her husband’s actions and herself came into contact with the Indians.⁷⁵ Elizabeth Haig was much more directly involved. After her husband George Men, Women, and the Trade 135 was killed by Indians in 1748, she continued to run his store at the Congarees, which lay along the Cherokee trail, and she often did business with the Cher- okee when they traveled through the area.⁷⁶ At least one wife appears to have traveled with her trader husband to the nations. In 1738 Th omas Causton, the keeper of the Trustees’ store, advanced a credit to several traders, noting that “LachSan [Lachlan] MacBean’s wife, is with her husband, and he being a Man of Substance (at present) in the Indian Station I hope to be excus’d for such a Creditt, which he will not fail to Satisfye at his Return.”⁷⁷ English women might become involved in the trade in more indirect ways as well. As early as 1684, Rebeckah Lee was arrested for having “violated the law by fetching of Drink for an Indian Squaw” for the price of six pence. She pleaded that she had been “wholly ignorant of its being Contrary to Law” and was also “in a poor and low Condition” because her husband was away at sea, and she was struggling to support herself and her children in his absence. She therefore asked for leniency.⁷⁸ Such transactions were probably far more com- mon than records indicate, only surfacing, as in the case of Lee, when women selling goods to Indians were caught. In the late 1730s, Mary Townsend had applied for a license to sell liquor during her widowhood, which was granted. Problems arose, however, when Jacob Mathews (Mary Musgrove’s second hus- band) and a “half inden” visited and, discovering that Townsend had a number of Indian traders lodging with her, “Pickd a quaril with them.” Mathews and his companion thereafter spent the night at the guardhouse, reporting later that they had been driven there by Townsend’s new husband, and the govern- ment revoked Townsend’s license. Townsend petitioned the Trustees in 1739, requesting redress.⁷⁹ Many other frontier women probably also sold liquor or other goods to Indians but escaped offi cials’ attention. Women who lived on the frontiers or accompanied garrisons also un- wittingly (or sometimes intentionally) infl uenced the trade, a phenomenon that increased substantially after the mid-eighteenth century as more British women moved closer to native settlements. In 1764, an anonymous observer at the outpost at Pensacola noted the arrival of two Creek princesses, who “liked the ladies dress very much, and put their fi ngers on any part of it . . . in partic- ular they admired the ladies necklaces, and pointed for them to give them to them,” which the white women refused. However, in order to make sure that there were no hard feelings, the author gave them some silver rings, “which made them as fi ne as possible.”⁸⁰ British women could also cause more serious disruptions. In 1772, the headmen of Geehaw (Creek) requested the help of a 136 Men, Women, and the Trade trader named Burges in putting a stop to the actions of “a White woman, who Causes great disturbance amongst the Indians and Traders, by telling the fi rst that the goods are sent amongst them by the King, and the Traders deceive them by Selling the goods whereas they are intended to be given to them.”⁸¹ Although rarely acknowledged by British offi cials and therefore rarely fi g- uring in diplomatic rhetoric (and sometimes proving it false), native women’s involvement in the trade was essential to its successful continuance. Native women proved to be valued consumers as well as providers of goods. By en- gaging in trade in their own right, native women ensured access to trade goods, diminishing their dependence on their male kin and contributing in new ways to the household economy. Further, native women’s involvement in the trade pulled them into the arena of European culture and required adaptation and compromise. Although to a lesser extent than men, women also developed an increasing sense of individualism as a result of their trading activities. As no- tions of private property expanded, women began to reckon their agricultural produce as their personal property, which could be traded in order to acquire clothing, utensils, or status symbols such as beads.⁸² Whereas most food had previously been shared communally within the family or the broader commu- nity, women began to trade surpluses rather than redistributing them in other ways. For a small number the ability to run a store, either their own or their trader- husbands’, reinforced growing ideas of the monetary value of goods for women as well as giving them a compelling interest in preserving and even ad- vancing the trade. Th is point should not be overstated, however. Older notions of reciprocity and providing for the needs of the extended household contin- ued to shape women’s actions.

“Much Cheaper than I Could Pretend to Gett a White Man”: New Roles in the Trade

In 1687, Captain William Dunlop traveled south from Charles Town to scout for Spanish infi ltrators and their Indian allies and to establish a rudimentary defense there. He convinced the Yamasee chief Matamaha to send some war- riors and canoes to join his expedition. To his frustration, he quickly found that there were limits to the kinds of work they were willing to do for him. Although he found the warriors eager to take part in his military maneuvers, they were reluctant to do the work of building beacons along the coast as part of his system of defense. In addition, he noted, “I found none of them willing Men, Women, and the Trade 137 to carry the letter I had to the Governor of St. Augustine thoe I off ered to re- ward them richly.”⁸³ Contact with the British provided native men with the possibility of many new occupations, particularly in connection with the trade but also in the are- nas of construction, agriculture, military service, and communication. For the most part, men adapted their traditional activities to the trade and proved re- sistant to work that departed too radically from older customs. Men greatly ex- panded their hunting activities to meet the needs of the trade, putting greater emphasis on this part of male subsistence work but not requiring a substantial transformation in gendered divisions of labor. New occupations opened up as well, drawing on men’s specifi c skills in ways that fi tted well with native gender roles. Men might hire themselves out as hunters, slave catchers, or mercenar- ies. Th ose who lacked ability as hunters or warriors could still improve their access to commodities by serving traders as guides, burdeners, interpreters, or messengers. Only among those tribes most weakened by contact did men be- gin to take on jobs that departed from older ways of doing things, adapting to the labor demands of British settlers or adopting new roles. Stronger in- land tribes generally resisted British eff orts to convince men to perform “un- manly” tasks and in some cases were able to force the British to accommodate native practice. Th e often-nonverbal communication inherent in these actions became an undeniable part of cross- cultural negotiations on the frontier. Southeastern Indian groups had long exchanged goods with one another and with those living farther away, and when Europeans arrived they joined (and expanded) existing trading networks. By the time the English established colonies in the Carolinas, many groups were already engaged in a limited and sometimes indirect commerce with the Spanish in Florida. Th e English, how- ever, introduced a much wider array and greater quantity of goods. Th e es- tablishment of the English deerskin trade resulted in a fl ow of manufactured goods into native communities and a reorientation of the native economy toward production for export.⁸⁴ Th e deerskin trade relied heavily upon existing male occupations of hunt- ing and long-distance trading. Hunting had long represented men’s most im- portant contribution to the community’s subsistence, providing much-needed protein, in the form of meat, to the native diet. Additionally, their kill pro- vided skins for clothing; oil used for preserving, cooking, and personal groom- ing; and bone used to make utensils and tools.⁸⁵ Hunting also allowed men to access spiritual power through the act of taking life.⁸⁶ It therefore supplied a 138 Men, Women, and the Trade major component of masculine identity and status. John Lawson reported that “he that is an expert Hunter, is esteem’d by the People and himself.”⁸⁷ In fact, Lawson noted, “He that is a good Hunter never misses of being a Favourite amongst the Women; the prettiest Girls being always bestow’d upon the chief- est Sports-Men.”⁸⁸ Th e importance of men’s hunting increased over the course of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, however, as it became the primary avenue by which to obtain European trade goods. As the demand for items such as guns and manufactured clothing increased, men expanded their hunts, remaining in their winter camps for longer and longer periods in order to bring in more skins for the trade. A host of complex and multifaceted social conse- quences accompanied the increased emphasis placed on men’s hunting labors, and tribes’ responses varied. Among the Creek, women accompanied their hus- bands on the annual hunts, weakening the infl uence of the extended matrilin- eal household while putting greater emphasis on nuclear families. Among the Cherokee, however, women did not go along on hunting expeditions, mitigat- ing the loss of clan infl uence but also putting greater pressure on women to manage town aff airs in the absence of men. Th e increasing problem of trade dependency raised concerns in all societies, but few solutions readily suggested themselves.⁸⁹ Long-distance trade, like other activities that involved external relations, was largely the responsibility of men. English and Scottish traders dealt with men more often than they did with women and often purchased even those goods produced by women from the women’s male relatives. In 1717 the Lower Cherokee complained that John Jones had cheated several of their people, in- cluding “Yorogotogaskee . . . of one Basket.” Jones had also tried to convince another man, Hootleboyau, to sell him three baskets, but Hootleboyau had refused. Women generally took responsibility for weaving baskets, yet in this case it was the men who negotiated regarding their trade. It is unclear whether female family members had deputized the men to trade the baskets for them or the men had taken it upon themselves to dispose of items presented to them as gifts. Similar exchanges probably occurred regularly but went unrecorded. Th e practice only came to light in this case because there was a dispute about the transaction that made its way to the commissioners.⁹⁰ Contact with the British also opened other occupations for men that, al- though not directly tied to the deerskin trade, still involved men’s traditional skills. Warriors might earn extra money by hiring themselves out to serve as scouts or “mercenaries.” Th e latter appellation is somewhat problematic, how- Men, Women, and the Trade 139 ever, because in addition to receiving payment for their military actions, native men viewed joint warfare as a way of solidifying alliances and as an avenue to achieve war honors. Diplomatic considerations were as important as fi nancial ones in native eyes. Nevertheless, the confl uence of English need for assistance in defending new settlements and native men’s desire for trade goods and an English alliance produced a new system of joint, paid military service. In 1701, the commons house ordered the creation of a lookout post at the northern point of the Savannah River, to “be mannaged by 2 white men & Six Indjans.”⁹¹ In 1738, Hugh Bryan hired a party of fi ve Indians to “range” around his town- ship, paying them 45.⁹² Th ere is no indication who these Indians were or whether they undertook this venture out of loyalty and friendship to Bryan himself, a desire to acquire goods, or both. As noted in chapter 2, however, En- glish offi cials often persuaded native allies to join them on military expeditions by promising them arms and other goods as well as the right to take plunder or captives. Military service thus off ered an alternative avenue to acquiring trade goods that still relied on valued masculine skills. Slave catching relied on similar abilities and supplied yet another new oc- cupation for native men. As early as 1671, the Grand Council ordered payment to a group of natives for pursuing John Radcliff e, a runaway white servant.⁹³ Unlike other occupations, slave catching at least sometimes off ered native men the opportunity to earn as much as white men. In 1739, in the face of the Stono Rebellion, the South Carolina Upper House ordered that “an Encouragement be given to white Men and free Indians for taking up and Bringing in all Ne- groe Slaves that are already deserted or shall hereafter Desert from this Prov- ince,” off ering 40 for any “Negro” men captured beyond the Savannah River. For captured women, the bounty was 25, while children brought in just 10, though scalps would bring in 20.⁹⁴ Some months later, however, the council approved a “reward” for several neighboring Indians who had assisted in hunt- ing down rebellious slaves, granting them a coat, fl ap, hat, stockings, and a gun and ammunition. Exactly how the council determined whether to pay a set rate or to provide rewards of trade goods is unclear. Merchandise, in the long run, probably cost the government less yet satisfi ed the natives. Th e commons house approved the expenditures proposed by the council but added an ad- ditional reward for two men, adding that “the Indians should be encouraged in such Manner as to induce them always to off er their Service whenever this Government may have Occasion for them.”⁹⁵ For those able to pursue runaway slaves, the rewards appear to have been considerable, providing signifi cantly 140 Men, Women, and the Trade greater access to trade goods. A hunter who had experienced a poor season could provide goods for his family through a successful slave-catching expedi- tion. Such activities made use of a man’s warrior skills and his ability to take captives in combat. Relations with Europeans, both connected to the trade and separate from it, opened up new occupations for men that relied less upon the highly val- ued skills of hunting and warfare, supplying opportunities for those who were less successful at these pursuits to also earn money or goods. Th ese men could serve as guides, burdeners, messengers, or factors for traders. Early explorers, whenever possible, engaged local natives to serve as guides and translators. In 1670, John Lederer employed three Algonquian men to accompany him when he left Virginia to explore the regions south and west of the Chesapeake.⁹⁶ John Lawson and his party hired a man called Santee Jack to pilot them to the Congaree towns, supplying him with “a Stroud-water- Blew, to make his Wife an Indian Petticoat.” Santee Jack’s wife accompanied him on this trip, although her role is not clear. She may have prepared food for the party and helped to make camp. In this sense, Lawson procured two laborers for the price of one. Santee Jack, in addition to guiding the party on their way, also hunted for them and provided them with fresh game. Lawson appears to have hired Jack spe- cifi cally for this reason, noting that his guide was “a good Hunter, and a well- humour’d Fellow.”⁹⁷ Th ere is some evidence that native men who were willing to hire themselves out to pilot such expeditions or to hunt were of lower status. Lawson initially tried to hire his “Landlord” when he departed the Santee nation, “but he seem’d unwilling.” As a man of signifi cant stature in the nation who was “esteem’d on by the King for his great Art in Hunting,” this “Landlord” had little need for Lawson’s goods.⁹⁸ Jack and his wife, on the other hand, found the arrangement benefi cial. As time went on and traders took up permanent residence in native towns, the need for guides diminished. Well-established paths led experienced traders along familiar routes.⁹⁹ Only when traders desired to extend their trad- ing territory into new areas did they still need guides.¹⁰⁰ In the early decades, traders often hired native men to carry loads of goods up to the nation, fi nding this the most inexpensive way to transport their wares. John Lawson, traveling in North Carolina, hired a Sewee man to carry “a Pack of our Cloaths.”¹⁰¹ Native men did not fi nd this occupation nearly as desirable as some others available to them. Th omas Nairne reported that “some quallity of the Chicasaws . . . thought themselves too good to cary burthens,” prefer- Men, Women, and the Trade 141 ring to hunt.¹⁰² Th is preference may have involved a class consideration as well. High-status men resisted performing services, especially those considered me- nial, for Europeans. Th ere were also many other reasons to avoid this kind of work. In 1718, the Catawba noted that serving as burdeners was “the Cause of their loosing many Men.”¹⁰³ Th ose who traveled to British settlements faced exposure to disease, which ravaged native populations through the colonial pe- riod. Burdeners were also vulnerable to attack by enemies. Further, many packs were extremely heavy, and the job’s reputation as onerous and underpaid added to its unpopularity. Th e carrying of burdens was unpopular for yet another reason among na- tive men. In many southeastern societies, women most often performed this function, transporting camping gear and fi rewood and thus leaving the men free to range, hunt, and provide protection if needed. Lawson reported that the “Women are forced to carry their Loads of Grain and other Provisions, and get Fire-Wood; for a good Hunter, or Warriour in these Expeditions, is employ’d in no other Business, than the Aff airs of Game and Battle.”¹⁰⁴ Only those men who were “not good and expert Hunters . . . [were] employ’d to carry Burdens . . . and [do] other Servile Work.” Th erefore, by expecting native men to hire themselves out as burdeners, the British were unwittingly asking them to do women’s work or work reserved for low- status men. In either case, the work demeaned the masculinity of the burdener. Not surprisingly, Indian bur- deners often proved unreliable. Colonel Chicken complained that often the men demanded payment in advance and then left their packs halfway to their destination so that the trader ended up having to pay twice in order to ensure that his goods reached the nation. He further noted that it was diffi cult even to fi nd people willing to carry merchandise.¹⁰⁵ Other traders complained that burdeners often stole merchandise.¹⁰⁶ Native people were willing to accept these roles as long as there was no other alternative. In the aftermath of the Yamasee War, however, the Catawba and Cherokee began to show a clear preference for trading with the Virginians, who used packhorses instead of native burdeners.¹⁰⁷ Carolina traders risked losing customers if they didn’t alter their practices, and in the long run they too turned to hiring horses and white employees to help them transport their goods.¹⁰⁸ In this way, native gender roles shaped the trade, forcing the British to adapt their practices to fi t native norms and desires. Perpetually short of labor, British offi cials recommended hiring Indian men for other purposes as well. Writing to the Duke of Newcastle, Britain’s secre- 142 Men, Women, and the Trade tary of state, to win his support for a proposed silver mine to be established in the Cherokee nation, William Bull advocated hiring Cherokee men to work the claim. “Many of them who are not Expert Hunters or Warriors,” he ar- gued, “would doubtless Employ themselves as miners,” providing the Cherokee with steady employment and ensuring the protection of the mine. Th is plan was never realized because the king forbade the development of a mine in the region.¹⁰⁹ Even if Bull had gained permission for such a scheme, it is doubt- ful that he would have found the eager workers he sought. Native men likely would have found the work too foreign.¹¹⁰ Such plans were not isolated, how- ever. A year later, Governor Glen of South Carolina wrote to trader Alex Wood regarding a proposed fort to be built in the Creek nation. Th e fort was “to be built by the Creeks,” and the Carolina government was to incur no expenses for it except for “a little rum, to the men, when they should be at work.”¹¹¹ Not surprisingly, this plan was also never realized because the Creek, mistrusting British intentions, refused their consent. Even if the British had gained per- mission to construct an outpost, it is far from certain that they could have pre- vailed upon Creek men to do the heavy construction labor required. Although men were accustomed to constructing dwellings and fortifi cations in their own communities, hiring themselves to the British on such menial terms would have appealed to few.¹¹² A less problematic way for native men to earn money was by was working as a messenger. Native tribes had sent messages to one another via “runners” long before the arrival of Europeans. Th e adaptation of this traditional occu- pation to a paid one made sense to the Indians and provided the British with an inexpensive, if not always reliable, way of conveying their own messages. It additionally represents a concrete contribution to cross-cultural communica- tions, one that combined British and native methods. Most communiqués were now written but were carried in the traditional Indian way by the runner. In 1725, Colonel George Chicken sent a message to the South Carolina Council, recommending sending gifts to the Cherokee headmen whom he was visit- ing. He employed four Cherokee men to carry this letter, paying each with a white blanket, noting that even though he sent four men, it was, he said, still “much Cheaper then I could pretend to gett a White Man.”¹¹³ Carrying mes- sages could be very lucrative for native men. In 1757, the commander of the gar- rison at Fort Prince George in Keowee, Ensign John Bogges, sent a runner to Governor Lyttelton in Charles Town, bearing letters he had received from the Creek nation. Th is same Cherokee had also pursued Lieutenant Wall, a de- Men, Women, and the Trade 143 serter from the fort. Bogges promised the man goods worth fi fty pounds of leather for his services, a not- inconsiderable amount.¹¹⁴ A hunter would have needed to pursue game for quite some time in order to acquire that much. Such a recompense was necessary, however, because men who provided services to the British took time away from other pursuits to do so. In this case, however, it was the off - season, and the runner probably lost little in the way of hunting. Taking on such a task off ered an additional way to obtain those trade goods that he and his family desired. By the mid- eighteenth century, some men began to serve as employees of the trade more directly. Creek chief Emistesegoe noted that “Indians were often employed as Factors for the Traders,” although such a practice seems to have been illegal. Th e chief noted that “in Order no Discovery might be made of the Trader who employs an Indian as Factor, he is taught by such Trader, if ques- tioned about it by Indians or others, to say that the Goods are his own, and that he bought them himself.” In this way, traders and their auxiliaries could make an end run around colonial regulations.¹¹⁵ Th e degree of adaptation in native male gender roles necessitated by con- tact with the British depended greatly on a tribe’s proximity to British settle- ments and on the relative strength of the tribal economy. Coastal tribes faced settlers’ encroachment on their land much earlier than their inland counter- parts and often had less time to adapt to the dislocations produced by disease, trade, and loss of hunting territories than the latter groups. Many declined precipitously in numbers and were forced into a tributary relationship with the colonies as early as the last quarter of the seventeenth century. Known as “settlement Indians,” these small groups were soon surrounded by colonial settlements and forced to make substantial alterations to their manner of liv- ing, often acculturating in signifi cant ways to British lifeways.¹¹⁶ Th ey became active participants in the “frontier exchange economy.”¹¹⁷ Even these settlement Indians, however, continued to utilize traditional masculine skills as much as possible to support themselves in the new co- lonial world. Especially in the early decades of English settlement, men ex- panded their work as hunters in order to supply the colonists with meat and skins. In 1680, Maurice Matthews reported that those settlers “who live toward the Indian parts of the settlements have brought them by ane Indian in one year 100 sometimes 200 deer.”¹¹⁸ In the early years of settlement in Georgia, General James Oglethorpe reported that the Indians were “great hunters” and that “our people that live in the country plantations procure of them the whole 144 Men, Women, and the Trade deer’s fl esh,” which the Indians brought “many miles for the value of six-pence sterling, and a wild turkey of forty pound weight for the value of two-pence.”¹¹⁹ While clearly a promotional piece, Oglethorpe’s account suggests the value of Indian hunting to those new settlements, as well as the active commerce exist- ing along the borders. Natives also performed a necessary service for the colonies by hunting large predators like “Wolfes tigers or beare,” thereby reducing the risk to outlying populations. In 1693, the South Carolina Commons in fact required a certain number of skins of such animals from settlement Indians, according to the size of their nation, “in Lew of the Dutys Laid on white [per]sons for their [pro]tection.”¹²⁰ Some fi fty years later, Edmund Atkins noted that the settle- ment Indians were of service “in hunting Game, destroying Vermin, and Beasts of Prey, and catching Runaway Slaves.”¹²¹ As time went on, opportunities for hunting and other more traditional sub- sistence activities declined. Hunters clashed with settlers who claimed the land on which they pursued game, often resulting in violence. In a typical case, in 1722 North Carolina settler Luke Measel assaulted a Tuscarora Indian who was hunting on his land and set his dog on him.¹²² Settlement Indians therefore often found it necessary to supplement their regular subsistence activities in other ways. Some hired themselves out as laborers on English plantations. By 1709, John Lawson reported that “the poorer Sort of Planters often get them to plant for them, by hiring them for that Season, or for so much Work.”¹²³ Lawson unfortunately failed to note whether men or women provided these services. For the men to take over responsibility for working white men’s fi elds would have indicated a signifi cant change in the gendered division of labor among those tribes most weakened by contact. Others began raising livestock. As early as 1702, a North Carolina Indian named Tom Harris complained that colonist Matthew Winn had taken his sow and its piglets from him.¹²⁴ During the Tuscarora War, the Chowanoc lost “[s]eaventy fi ve head of Hoggs a Mare and Colt their Corne destroyed by Horses and Catle their fences burnt and fruit trees destroyed.”¹²⁵ Again, it is not clear whether the men or the women among the Chowanoc took responsibility for raising the livestock or building fences. Nevertheless, the dramatic transformation in the tribe’s subsistence ac- tivities clearly required a substantial reorientation of older practices. As time went on, the settlement Indians became more and more accul- turated. In 1712, the Chowanoc agreed to send their children to an English school if funding could be arranged, and by the 1720s individual tribal mem- Men, Women, and the Trade 145 bers appeared regularly in the county court, often bringing lawsuits against local British settlers.¹²⁶ By 1763, the Reverend Alexander Stewart noted that some North Carolina tribes, namely the Mattamuskeet, Roanoke, and Hat- teras, “mixed with the white inhabitants” and by 1775 did in fact “dress and live like” Englishmen.¹²⁷ Larger tribes in the interior, however, were able to delay such a transition for a much longer period of time. Here, hunting and the deerskin trade persisted throughout the colonial period. As a result, men faced much less pressure to abandon traditional occupations in favor of those dictated by British society. By the second half of the eighteenth century, however, the pursuit of game be- came more problematic for many of the inland tribes as well. Increased hunt- ing to meet the needs of the trade depleted the deer population, and Indian men found themselves needing to travel farther afi eld in search of deer. Th is required men to stay away from home for longer and longer periods, putting additional pressures on the society.¹²⁸ Adding to the problem, beginning in the 1750s and 1760s, Carolina and Georgia settlements began encroaching on Cherokee, Creek, and, later, Choctaw territory. Th e colonists’ insatiable demand for land put pressure on native hunting grounds, and a series of land cessions slowly cut away at native holdings. Moreover, native hunters faced new compe- tition from British settlers hoping to support themselves by hunting.¹²⁹ In 1759, Lower Creek headmen complained to Governor John Reynolds of Georgia that “a great many Virginia people settled . . . in our hunting Grounds, who . . . live chiefl y by Hunting, wandering all over the Woods destroying our Game, which is now become so scarce that we cannot kill suffi cient to supply our Necessities.”¹³⁰ Offi cial proclamations ordering the settlers to move had little eff ect.¹³¹ In the years leading up to the Revolution, tensions on the frontier increased, and theft and violence became increasingly common on both sides. In 1765, Cherokee warriors brought several settlers under guard to Fort Prince George, accusing them of stealing their deerskins. An Englishman named Owens com- plained in return that the Indians had stolen some of his horses. Th e South Carolina government ultimately failed to take action against the settlers, deter- mining that it lacked jurisdiction, although the Cherokee at least secured the return of their skins.¹³² Far more seriously, in 1771 a number of Irish frontiers- men pursued some Creek Indians they suspected of stealing horses to their hunting camp. Catching them, the Irishmen killed one man and whipped an- other and stole a parcel of skins.¹³³ Because of the close association between hunting and manhood, the loss of hunting territory and the increasing diffi - 146 Men, Women, and the Trade culty in fi nding deer threatened not only the livelihood of Indian men but their very masculinity.¹³⁴ In response, men sought a solution by drawing on older values. Raiding for horses and cattle represented “an adaptation and transfor- mation of male culture,” drawing on traditional male occupations of hunting and making war to counteract the increasing pressure that reduced wildlife populations was putting on male subsistence activities.¹³⁵ For British settlers, on the other hand, life on the frontiers required a greater degree of adaptation of older ways. Coastal elites and government of- fi cials continued to reject hunting as an appropriate occupation for a civilized man and accused frontiersmen of living “like Indians.”¹³⁶ Th e backcountry settlers, however, found that the existence of the deerskin trade off ered an al- ternate means of supplying the needs of their families. Th ey did not necessar- ily accept the idea that they had adopted Indian ways and were often very hos- tile to native peoples and regularly in confl ict with them.¹³⁷ Horse stealing and other banditry caused additional tensions both with native people and with local elites, leading to the rise of the Regulator movement in South Carolina. Both Regulators and colonial offi cials often referred to lower- class frontiers- men as “Crackers,” “Vagabonds and Idle and Disorderly persons,” or “a Lawless Crew.”¹³⁸ Tom Hatley has suggested that the lifestyle of white hunters, because of its apparent similarity to Indian ways, “posed an invidious challenge to the values backcountry planters hoped to establish.”¹³⁹ It therefore reveals a new diversity in British notions of manhood created by the realities of the frontier, as well as the contested nature of British masculinity itself in the late colonial period. Eff orts by planters and colonial offi cials to bring settlers under control largely failed, and tensions between native hunters and their new neighbors would continue into the post- Revolutionary era.¹⁴⁰ Although hunting became increasingly diffi cult in the late colonial pe- riod, native men refused to abandon the practice. While white frontier settlers borrowed native subsistence practices, Indian societies were more resistant to change. In 1775, Bernard Romans noted that among the Creek “the labour of the fi elds is all done by the women; no savages are more proud of being counted hunters, fi shermen, and warriors.”¹⁴¹ Of the Chickasaw he wrote: “[T]he vanity of being accounted great hunters and warriors has the better of every consideration, and rather than condescend to cultivate the earth (which they think beneath them) they will sit and toy with their women.” Th e Choc- taw alone may have begun to expect men to take a greater role in agriculture than they had previously. Romans praised them for doing “what no uncom- Men, Women, and the Trade 147 pelled savage will do, that is work in the fi eld to raise grain.”¹⁴² He noted that the men “help their wives in the labour of the fi elds and many other works; near one half of the men have never killed a deer or turkey during their lives.”¹⁴³ Bartram echoed Romans’s praise of the Choctaw, noting that “[t]hey are sup- posed to be most ingenious and industrious husbandmen, having large planta- tions, or country farms, where they employ much of their time in agricultural improvements, after the manner of the white people.”¹⁴⁴ Romans and Bartram, however, may have exaggerated the degree to which Choctaw men adopted ag- ricultural work. Recent research shows that in the nineteenth century Choctaw women continued to dominate farming work, while men made the transition to raising livestock.¹⁴⁵ Th e trade allowed men to adapt or expand traditional occupations to meet the new realities of contact. Men adapted their work as hunters and warriors in order to provide European goods for their families. By reorienting their activi- ties to suit the trade, native men advanced a kind of common ground between themselves and Europeans, supporting a commerce viewed as necessary and benefi cial by both parties. Yet native men’s ideals of normative male behavior seem to have informed the kinds of tasks they were willing to perform for their new European trade partners. While happy to hunt or pursue slaves, men re- sisted activities that they viewed as women’s work, such as carrying burdens or farming. By the late colonial period some men may have taken a greater role in agricultural work than previously. However, for the most part, agriculture continued to be dominated by women throughout the eighteenth century. Th e British therefore had to adapt to native ways of doing things, hiring messen- gers but eventually abandoning the practice of employing burdeners from na- tive nations.

In 1770, the Catawba chief King Fron wrote to Lieutenant Governor William Bull of South Carolina, asking for his assistance. “[M]y old men and Women are almost naked for want of Cloaths,” he informed Bull, “and I desire Sir that Your Honor will give me some as . . . hunting has got very scarse with us.” Bull, unsympathetic, replied that “he had no Cloaths to give them, but that the Catawbas must do as the white people do, plant Corn and buy Cloaths that they had good lands.”¹⁴⁶ Th e incident demonstrates both the continuity in Catawba gender relations and the growing pressure the British were willing to exert in order to compel change at the most fundamental level of Catawba social organization. Catawba men continued to hunt, and King Fron’s rhetoric 148 Men, Women, and the Trade demonstrates that men’s labor still focused on providing clothing for the com- munity. Th eir ability to engage in their traditional occupations was much re- duced, however, and settlers’ encroachment was rendering hunting less and less sustainable. A much-weakened Catawba nation, although still able to put a sub- stantial number of men in the fi eld (as they demonstrated during the American Revolution), had ceased to pose much of a threat to the well-established settle- ments of the Carolinas.¹⁴⁷ Bull therefore had no reservations in rejecting Fron’s request and demanding that the Catawba act more like white men. He ignored Catawba women’s agricultural work and pressured the men to adopt British practices of commercial agriculture. Th is kind of pressure would only increase in the years to come. Nevertheless, the colonial era stands as an intermediate period of stability in Anglo- Indian gender relations. Although coastal groups were forced to adapt to the close proximity of British settlers fairly early, the British did not yet pos- sess the infl uence to compel the more powerful and distant groups of the inte- rior to adopt European ideas of male agricultural labor or female domesticity. Although an elite male rhetoric emphasizing male provision for women and children developed around midcentury, it was contradicted by the realities of women’s trading and continued farming activities. Native peoples did not easily abandon their traditional understandings of the “proper” employment of men and women. While adapting to the new realities of trade, native societies re- mained true to their own ideas of family organization and gender identity. Al- though native communities experienced great pressures from disease and the introduction of foreign merchandise and cultural practices, gender roles appear to have been one of the more stable underpinnings of society, long outlasting the bow and arrow, leather garments, and handcrafted baskets. 5  “To Stay amongst Th em by a Marriage” the politics and domestics of intermarriage

rade brought a significant number of European men into Indian Tcommunities. Most traders took up residence in native towns and mar- ried native women, integrating themselves, to varying degrees, into local soci- ety. Th e importance of marriage for furthering the trade is well known.¹ Schol- ars pay less attention to the diplomatic aspects of intercultural unions. Th is silence stems at least in part from the tendency of British offi cials to portray such matters as private (and often illegitimate) aff airs between individual trad- ers and native women. In Indian societies, however, intermarriage was a crucial part of establishing alliances and therefore had tremendous diplomatic signifi - cance. Unions between Englishmen and native women constituted part of an elaborate ritual system that went far beyond formal treaty making to create af- fi nal kinship ties and integrate outsiders into the community. What the Brit- ish deemed private behavior, therefore, took on much wider signifi cance for Anglo-Indian relations as a whole, and the success or failure of these unions had signifi cant diplomatic implications. When mixed marriages worked out, the practice not only bonded the trader to his wife’s village but also encour- aged friendly relations between his nation and hers. Traders and their families served as important intermediaries between cultures, with leading traders or their children working as translators during diplomatic meetings or as messen- gers in formal and informal situations alike. When marriages dissolved or part- ners failed to adhere to expectations, however, the results could be disastrous, not only for the couple involved but for the larger southeastern diplomatic ma- trix. Violations of taboos could bring retaliation, and violence often begat more violence. Th e misbehavior of a small number of traders could sour the relation- ship that the marriage had been intended to formalize. As a result, abuse of na- tive women often became the topic cross- cultural conversations during diplo- matic meetings or the subject of attempted colonial regulation. 150 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage Of all the arenas in which British and Indian people interacted, intermar- riage was most shaped by native norms and traditions. Traders who married native women took up residence in their wives’ towns and needed to adapt to native lifeways and family organization if they wished to get along with their new relations. Once again, Englishmen and natives sought to identify and build upon perceived cultural similarities while negotiating diff erences. Th ese eff orts met with varying degrees of success. For most of the colonial period, however, traders had to accommodate Indian ways rather than the other way around. Th is reality produced tension for many, as their own patriarchal assumptions collided with native matrilineal inheritance practices. Th roughout the seventeenth and most of the eighteenth century, British men lacked the ability to impose their own notions of marriage and family organization on Indian communities. In this way, the hundred years following the founding of English colonies demonstrates a substantial degree of continu- ity in the institution of intermarriage. Not until the late eighteenth century did a growing number of British husbands of native women gain the ability to es- tablish separate households or permission to educate their children according to British norms. Although such changes presaged the signifi cant transforma- tions that would characterize mixed families in the nineteenth century, the co- lonial period still represents an era of negotiation and compromise rather than Anglo- American dominance. Th e cross- cultural conversations regarding inter- marriage that emerged in diplomatic meetings during this era demonstrate both the relative importance of these unions and the diffi culties that creating actual (in addition to fi ctive) kinship ties could cause.

“Intrigues with the Indian Lasses”: Interracial Sex and Marriage

In 1670, German traveler John Lederer made his way from Virginia to North Carolina, where he stopped in the village of Saponi. Although this town had been hostile to the English for the past ten years, Lederer managed to estab- lish a peace, bringing gifts to the leaders. Th e headmen then “consulted their Godds whether they should not admit me into their Nation and Councils,” Lederer wrote, “and oblige me to stay amongst them by a Marriage with the King or some of their great Mens Daughters.” Th is last development was more than Lederer had been prepared for, and he balked. In the end, he “with much a-do, waved their courtesie, and got my Passport,” wrote Lederer, promising to Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 151 return in six months.² Although he did not fully understand it, Lederer had encountered a common and in fact often crucial southeastern method for es- tablishing diplomatic relations. Th e natives’ worldview recognized two catego- ries of people: those connected to the tribe by kinship and outsiders. Creating alliances required forming family ties with members of foreign groups. Towns might accomplish this by ritually adopting foreigners or by establishing affi nal ties through marriage.³ Generally, both kinds of ties were necessary to bind the societies together. Intermarriage between British traders and native women was common in the Southeast.⁴ Like so many other aspects of intercultural relations on the frontier, including trade, the diplomatic aspects of cross- cultural unions are often diffi cult to separate from the more mundane or personal. For native people, kinship defi ned relationships in all aspects of society, including political and economic. Viewed through a native lens, then, marriage took on a signifi - cance far beyond the small number of individuals directly involved. Whereas metaphors of brotherhood illustrated peace and aff ection between diff erent nations or towns, marriage between representatives of those entities created genuine affi nal ties that strengthened and reinforced fi ctive kinship. Success- ful intermarriage, however, meant navigating cultural diff erences and working through misunderstandings regarding sexual morals, the expectations placed on marriage partners, and competing notions of family organization. Although forming a union with a trader confronted a native woman with British cultural norms, the traders themselves were often the ones forced to make the most substantial compromises with the new culture in which they took up residence and raised their families. Th e crucial diplomatic role that natives expected cross-cultural unions to play is demonstrated by the fact that leading clans frequently tried to mo- nopolize marriage with traders or other offi cials.⁵ Because of the matrilineal, kin- based nature of southeastern societies, marriage between women of high- status clans and newcomers was often encouraged to create familial ties with new allies, cementing friendships by incorporating newcomers into native kin networks.⁶ As Lederer experienced, chiefs frequently recommended the mar- riage of foreigners to their own female relatives in order to integrate the outsid- ers into their own families and preserve access to the newcomers’ wealth. Th e English trader Edward Griffi n married a woman of the prominent Wind clan, a close relation of Ochese chief Brim; their daughter was the famous Mary Musgrove. Lachlan McGillivray married another woman of the Wind clan, 152 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage sister to the Koasati chief Red Shoes. Nancy Ward, the niece of the infl uential Cherokee headman Attakullakulla, married trader Bryan Ward.⁷ Some tribes pursued family ties with Europeans more than others, however. Th e Choctaw did not intermarry extensively with the French before the French and Indian War. Because local chiefs controlled the distribution of trade goods during the French era, headmen did not need to marry female relatives to traders in order to keep control of the foreign trade. Other native groups, especially those trad- ing directly with the British, pursued affi nal ties much earlier.⁸ Factors like proximity to European settlements, interest in the trade, ability to control ac- cess to their communities, and local political considerations determined when and to what extent Indians sought out marriage with Europeans. Native people and settlers did not always share the same expectations about the nature of intermarriage and its importance to their alliance with one another. Europeans certainly were familiar with the notion of matrimony for diplomatic purposes, and members of ruling families commonly married one another, creating alliances and negotiating territorial claims as part of the bargain. Such practices, though, rarely extended beyond the monarchy. Th us, when faced with the off er of intermarriage with elite native women, many Eu- ropeans, like Lederer, were not certain how to proceed. For the most part, co- lonial offi cials in the Lower South did not marry into Indian villages and there- fore did not create affi nal ties with the native leadership.⁹ Instead, it would be individual Indian traders, usually without formal permission from their gov- ernments, who would choose to take a native wife (or two). Th erefore, inter- marriage—at least on the British side—quickly became disassociated from “formal” diplomacy. Offi cials expected alliances to be made at the state level, by treaty, not by the individual marriages of lower- ranking colonists. Th is diff er- ence in expectations produced confusion and sometimes tensions but did not discourage intercultural unions. Over time mixed marriages became increas- ingly private matters, although for most of the eighteenth century they contin- ued to have diplomatic signifi cance. Th e British generally were ambivalent about Anglo- Indian unions. Neither South Carolina nor Georgia ever outlawed the practice, although North Caro- lina did so in the wake of the Tuscarora and Yamasee Wars.¹⁰ Such matches were not always considered acceptable, however. Europe’s religious tradition forbade the marriage of Christians to nonbelievers.¹¹ In 1736, the Anglican minister Samuel Quincy came under scrutiny by some Georgia offi cials when he performed a ceremony marrying the trader Joseph Fitzwalter “to an Indian woman unbaptized” who was the daughter of the Yamacraw headman Tuscany. Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 153 Th e primary consideration appears to have been Mrs. Fitzwalter’s religion rather than her race. General Oglethorpe defended Quincy’s decision, empha- sizing the minister’s good character and maintaining that he had administered the sacrament at the urging of the majority of Savannah inhabitants, who con- sidered the marriage advantageous for the infant colony.¹² Anglo- Indian mar- riages generally did not create the kind of resistance that African-English liai- sons did, though, perhaps because they usually occurred between free people and therefore did not threaten the institution of slavery. A number of traders, pamphleteers, and other offi cials involved with the trade emphasized the benefi ts of intermarriage. Th e naturalist John Lawson favored encouraging Englishmen “of a lower Rank” to marry Indians, with the expectation that they would set up plantations and thereby draw those natives into British society to “become Members of the same Ecclesiastical and Civil Government we are under.” Indian spouses would further “become Christians, and their Idolatry would be quite forgotten.”¹³ By “civilizing” and converting the Indians, intermarriage would also allow the British to assert a claim to Indian land. Lawson assumed that such unions would bring about the acculturation of the native partner rather than the other way around. Th e British also hoped that affi nal ties would strengthen alliances. As late as 1755, the future superin- tendent of Indian aff airs Edmund Atkins continued to advocate intermarriage, writing in his Report and Plan of 1755 that if soldiers were permitted to take native wives, British “Interest among the Indians will be strengthened both by the Women, and their Breed providing the hardiest and best attached.”¹⁴ Some historians have argued that over time British men found the no- tion of intermarriage increasingly distasteful. Kirsten Fischer posits that as “ ‘race’ took on innate physical qualities in the eighteenth century and ‘redness’ came to connote permanent degradation, the promotion of Indian-English marriages waned.”¹⁵ Tom Hatley has demonstrated convincingly the shift in language used to refer to native women, particularly in nonoffi cial publications like the South Carolina Gazette. After the 1760s, the “derogatory ethnically- specifi c label of squaw” came to replace the more generic term “wench.”¹⁶ In- terestingly, however, such changes in both perception and rhetoric (and in the case of North Carolina in 1715, law) did not discourage traders and a growing number of frontier settlers from seeking out native marriage partners. If any- thing, intermarriage accelerated in the later years of the eighteenth century, as a growing number of British men sought to gain a claim to native land through strategic matrimony.¹⁷ Actual Anglo-Indian unions during the colonial period deviated signifi - 154 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage cantly from the idealistic prescriptions of even the most favorably inclined offi - cials or travelers. Most marriages were not solemnized according to British law or the church and occurred far beyond the reach of those institutions. Long- and short-term relationships were contracted according to native rules and fol- lowed native patterns. Mixed- race couples followed the practice of matrilineal kinship and matrilocal residence in which the husband took up residence in the wife’s town. Traders who married native women thus had little choice but to adapt to southeastern Indian norms of marriage and family organization. Th ey generally resided too far from the centers of European settlement and were too dependent upon the Indian towns in which they lived to be able make many demands. British men had few opportunities during the eighteenth cen- tury to impose patriarchal family organization on mixed marriages, regardless of what colonial theorists might have hoped. Rules governing the marriages of British women and Indian men are un- clear, largely because these unions were uncommon before the second half of the eighteenth century.¹⁸ Until the 1750s when British settlement reached the outer boundaries of Cherokee and Creek territory, British women had few op- portunities to establish relationships with native men because they had less chance to participate in the Indian trade or other venues of intercultural in- teraction. Further, the structure of matrilineal societies inhibited this kind of intermarriage because foreign women and their children lacked clan affi liation and therefore would have remained perpetual outsiders in native communi- ties.¹⁹ Nevertheless, a few such marriages occurred. Th e Daily Post reported in 1730 that “one of the Indian [Cherokee] Princes or Generals is actually to be married to Miss Busch, a young lady of French extraction, who hath resided some years in this Kingdom.”²⁰ In the 1770s, William Bartram met a Creek man who was “married to a white woman” and who ferried him across the St. Mary’s River.²¹ By 1790, however, a small number of Anglo- American women had married into the Creek nation and resided there.²² Th ere is an impor- tant caveat that should be made here, however. Some European women were adopted by native groups and married Indian men. While British observers considered these women to be white, native peoples would have considered them full members of their societies, and thus their relationships would not have been viewed as “intermarriage.” Many adopted women became fully in- tegrated into their new communities and refused repatriation.²³ Because they were generally rare, relationships between British women and Indian men did not greatly infl uence frontier diplomacy in the same way that the more com- mon male trader– Indian female pairings did. Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 155 British men could establish a number of diff erent kinds of relationships with Indian women, each of which carried diff ering degrees of obligation and commitment.²⁴ Some liaisons clearly were intended to be temporary. Th e deer- skin trade rapidly gave rise to a system of sexual exchange. In some ways, this was an adaptation of earlier native practices of providing guests with sexual hospitality. By the fi rst decade of the eighteenth century, John Lawson reported that in most towns, “trading Girls” contracted short-term relationships with traders. Th ese girls were distinguishable by the cut of their hair, which diff er- entiated them from those women “engag’d to Husbands.” Th is was “intended to prevent Mistakes,” Lawson noted, “for the Savages of America are desirous (if possible) to keep their Wives to themselves.” Th e liaison was not purely eco- nomic in orientation, however, and should not be confused with prostitution. Any interaction between a European visitor and native women had diplomatic implications, as the process of negotiating the terms of the agreement dem- onstrates. If a traveler wished to make an arrangement with a trading girl, he had to obtain the consent of her parents and of the chief. Th e chief advised the woman in making the bargain and often required a gift from the man “to con- fi rm the Match.” Further, “every one of the Girl’s Relations argu[ed] the Advan- tage or Detriment that may ensue such a Night’s Encounter; all which [was] done with as much Steadiness and Reality, as if it was the greatest Concern in the World.” Lawson considered the whole thing to be a “mercenary” bargain, dismissing the young women as “Whores,” and found the involvement of the woman’s family and the chief laughable.²⁵ His assessment, however, obscures the fact that even short-term relationships were intended to produce recipro- cal obligations between the traveler and the town. Th e girl’s family treated the matter “as if it was the greatest Concern in the World” because to them it was. While aff airs with trading girls were usually of short duration, many trad- ers established longer- term temporary unions that, while involving less com- mitment than marriage, also had a recognized status within native communi- ties. James Adair referred to what he called a “make haste marriage” or “To o p s a Tá w a h ” among the Cherokee, which, while considered a legitimate bond, lacked the ceremony and duration of other marriages. Th is relationship also had con- crete benefi ts for the men, with the “make haste” wife required to provide her man with food and to make clothing for him.²⁶ Adair noted that such an ar- rangement was often referred to as “buying a woman.”²⁷ Th e Creek followed a similar practice. Th e relationship required the approval of the woman’s family but did not place the same requirements on the man as a marriage.²⁸ Most traders who spent more than a short period of time in Indian coun- 156 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage try, however, could not rely upon trading girls or temporary liaisons, nor could they ignore the need to marry into the communities with which they traded. John Lawson in fact noted that “when a Person that lives amongst them, is reserv’d from the Conversation of their Women, ’tis impossible for him ever to accomplish his Designs amongst that People.” Marriage, on the other hand, provided a useful boon. By taking an Indian wife, Lawson observed, traders “soon learn the Indian Tongue, keep a Friendship with the Savages; and besides the Satisfaction of a She-Bed- Fellow, they fi nd these Indian Girls very service- able to them, on Account of dressing their Victuals, and instructing ’em in the Aff airs and Customs of the Country.”²⁹ By allying himself with a native town through marriage, the trader demonstrated his peaceful intentions, as well as his desire to acquire ties there. He further acquired a permanent base of opera- tions. Th omas Nairne found that “[i]t is the easyest thing in the world, for an English Traveller to procure kindred among the Indians, It’s but taking a mis- tress of such a name, and he has at once relations in each Village.”³⁰ Th e ben- efi ts of such relationships seem clear. In the 1770s, William Bartram noted that “if their love and esteem for each other is sincere, and upon principles of reci- procity, there are but few instances of [the women] neglecting or betraying the interests and views of their temporary husbands; they labour and watch con- stantly to promote their private interests, and detect and prevent any plots or evil designs which may threaten their persons, or operate against their trade or business.”³¹ Travelers did not record much about the ceremonies accompanying mar- riages between traders and native women. Most weddings, however, prob- ably followed standard Indian customs. While traditions varied substantially among southeastern tribes, some generalizations can be made that indicate what was expected of each partner.³² In order to contract a marriage, either the young man or, more often, some of his maternal relatives approached the fam- ily of his prospective bride to gain their consent to the match. Th e man usually sent a gift to the girl’s relatives. If the family accepted the off ering, it was a good sign that they approved of the match. In some cases the chief of the nation also had to give his permission; this requirement was probably especially pertinent when the groom was an outsider. Th e bride- to-be had to give her assent before any match would take place, for, Lawson reported, “these Savages never give their Children in Marriage, without their own Consent.”³³ However, families may also have pressured young women to agree to marriages that their relatives felt would be advantageous. Nairne observed that if the girl’s maternal uncle Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 157 gave his consent, to all intents and purposes the decision was made, “for his In- terest is so great with his sister and her Children, that they seldom go against, what is resolved on.”³⁴ Th e ceremony itself, although diff ering widely among diff erent tribes, sym- bolized the reciprocal obligations placed upon the marriage partners. A great feast, prepared by the bride’s relations and shared by both families, solemnized the union. Among the Creek, both the man and the woman stuck a cane or reed into the ground next to one another, perhaps symbolizing unity.³⁵ In other nations, an exchange of gifts often marked the occasion. Adair recorded a com- mon ceremony in which the man gave his bride a deer’s foot, most likely sym- bolizing his responsibility to supply meat for their household by hunting, while she presented him with cakes of bread, “thereby declaring her domestic care” and ability as a farmer.³⁶ Men in some societies had the additional responsibil- ity of ritually providing for their wives in order to maintain the union. Adair reported that among West Floridian natives, men had to “bring some venison or buff alo’s fl esh to the house of their normal wives, at the end of every winter’s hunt” to reconfi rm their marriages. Creek men validated their commitment by arranging for their relatives to hoe the bride’s cornfi elds.³⁷ Th e reaction of British husbands to native ceremonies unfortunately re- mains unknown. Ceremonies may well have been adjusted to allow traders to substitute trade goods for deer fl esh as their part of the bargain. Certainly the trader’s access to imported merchandise served to make him an attractive mar- riage partner. Most traders who contracted long-term relationships probably had been in the nations long enough to know something about what was ex- pected of them. Bernard Romans reported that “[w]hat travellers have related of their giving their daughters to transient persons, is not true, and it is not till after some acquaintance, that they will give a white man, what they call a wife, unless he chooses an abandoned prostitute, which are here to be found as well as elsewhere.”³⁸ Wives of traders improved the material quality of their lives through ac- cess to imported goods and often increased their status through the ability to redistribute these items among kin and friends.³⁹ Wives’ demands for goods could be problematic, however, especially if British husbands did not fully un- derstand the expectations of reciprocity. William Bartram met a North Caro- lina trader settled among the who had married the daughter of White Captain. Th is woman had “so artfully played upon her beguiled and vanquished lover, and unhappy slave, as to have already drained him of all his 158 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage possessions, which she dishonestly distributes amongst her savage relations.” Th e trader was “now poor, emaciated, and half distracted, often threatening to shoot her, and afterwards put an end to his own life.” According to Bartram, even the woman’s family agreed that she had gone too far and condemned her behavior.⁴⁰ Th is case, while revealing an extreme situation in which the system was not working well, demonstrates the expectation of reciprocity in Indian marriage with which British husbands needed to reckon. Family demands for goods could cause larger diplomatic and social prob- lems as well. While a wife’s family might benefi t from increased access to goods, not everyone in the town shared in the wealth. Others might resent a trader who was too generous with his in-laws. In 1753, Wolf, a leading Creek head- man, complained to the governor of South Carolina that it was “[n]o won- der that the Traders can not aff ord to sell their Goods at the Prices we desire when they give away such Quantities to their Wives and Women which they keep.”⁴¹ Th e statement itself was probably an exaggeration, designed to obtain better trade prices, but it reveals the tensions that unequal access to commodi- ties produced. Like other arenas of intercultural interaction, intermarriage resulted in both successes and failures. Many mixed marriages seem to have been very happy. James Germany, a longtime trader to the Upper Creek town of Coolome, was married to a Creek woman by whom he had several children. Bartram found this woman to be “of a very amiable and worthy character and disposition, in- dustrious, prudent and aff ectionate.”⁴² British men found Indian women to be congenial mates in many ways. Native families appeared remarkably peaceful to many British observers. As in native government, harmony was emphasized in marriage and family relationships, and open confl ict frowned upon. Th ose couples who were dissatisfi ed with one another could simply separate. Law- son wrote approvingly that “[a]mongst Women, it seems impossible to fi nd a Scold; if they are provok’d, or aff ronted, by their Husbands, or some other, they resent the Indignity off er’d them in silent Tears, or by refusing their Meat.” He added, by way of critique of his own society, “Would some of our European Daughters of Th under set these Indians for a Pattern, there might be more quiet Families found amongst them.”⁴³ However, the eff ect of silent rebuke in a relationship should not be ignored. By refusing her meat, a commodity pro- vided to her by her husband, a wife unmistakably demonstrated her displea- sure. Such an action had the eff ect of shaming him in front of others, and her relatives may have put pressure on him to make up the diff erences between Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 159 them. Nairne further indicated that a woman could use “sullen pouts” or other similar behavior to compel her husband to divorce her.⁴⁴ Th e fact that European and indigenous cultures shared many expectations regarding the roles of women helped ease the transition. In both societies, women performed most of the domestic tasks, including cooking, cleaning, making clothes, and child rearing. Had this not been the case, intermarriage would have been far more diffi cult to sustain. In southeastern societies, women were respon- sible for maintaining the home. “Th e Chief Business of the Women,” reported an anonymous British offi cer in 1739, “is Planting Corn and other things and minding the Business of the House.”⁴⁵ Cooking was always a female employ- ment, noted Lawson: “Th e Savage Men never beat their Corn to make Bread; but that is the Womens Work, especially the Girls.”⁴⁶ Women maintained the home fi res and manufactured all the implements used in their households, in- cluding sophisticated basketry, earthenware, mats, wooden bowls, dishes, and cooking utensils. Women and girls also wove fabric of bison wool and sewed clothing or moccasins of deerskins.⁴⁷ Although the ways women performed these tasks diff ered somewhat from European practices, the overall gendered division of labor would have seemed familiar and therefore comfortable to a European husband. Th e most substantial diff erence in gender roles revolved around Indian women’s agricultural work. Travelers expressed dismay at what seemed to them to be a gross departure from “appropriate” patterns of labor. Instead of the men taking on their “proper” occupation as farmers, Europeans concluded, “[t]he women do all the work,” and as one observer lamented, “Th eir women are . . . like slaves to their husbands.”⁴⁸ “A savage,” sniff ed Bernard Romans, “has the most determined resolution against labouring or tilling the ground, the slave his wife must do that.”⁴⁹ While authors writing for a European audience condemned this division of labor, British traders living among Indian nations often found women’s agricultural activities welcome rather than horrifying. A wife’s farming freed her husband from any need to produce food on his own, leaving him at liberty to conduct his business and travel the long distances to Charles Town or Savannah. Lawson noted that an “Indian- Mistress” was “ever securing her white Friend Provisions whilst he stays amongst them.”⁵⁰ Eventu- ally, those traders who lived among Indians for a long time would begin to de- sire to build farms or ranches in the European manner, but such developments came about only gradually and at least initially required the permission of local chiefs (which was often diffi cult to obtain). By the time of the American Revo- 160 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage lution, at least some white men began to acquire independent homesteads near the towns in which they traded. Romans noted in 1775 that traders, “notwith- standing the ordinance against settling on Indian grounds, have many of them plantations, and raise cattle and hogs.”⁵¹ Even in happy unions, both parties had to adjust to the realities of a mixed marriage. During peaceful times, the challenges were relatively mundane. Trad- ers had to adapt to life in Indian communities and native lifeways. Cuisine seems to have been an arena in which tastes clashed. Europeans and natives diff ered in their methods of food preparation, particularly in the matters of cleanliness and palate. A horrifi ed French observer complained, “When they have meat they boil it in water, however dirty it is, without washing it.” He fur- ther lamented that they added unpounded corn and produced a dish that had “no taste and one must be a savage to eat it.”⁵² John Lawson noted with surprise that his Santee landlady prepared a supper of venison by tearing the meat “in Pieces with her Teeth” before grinding it in a mortar and stewing it, although he conceded that the end product was “a very savoury Dish.”⁵³ Other native food was more than Lawson was able to bear, as when the “Keyauwee” cooked an unborn fawn in its “Bag” along with the mother’s guts. Th e unhappy trav- eler reported that all the British who saw this exhibition lost their appetites.⁵⁴ Travelers like Lawson could grouse and then leave. A trader living for a long time in Indian country would have had to adapt to his wife’s cooking, regard- less of how much it diff ered from what he had been accustomed to. By the latter part of the eighteenth century, some traders appear to have prevailed upon their wives to adopt some European cooking techniques. Wil- liam Bartram met a trader whose Cherokee mate, “an excellent house- wife,” “treated [them] with cream and strawberries.”⁵⁵ Th e townspeople had allowed the man to keep a herd of cattle, and his wife evidently had learned to produce various dairy products. Other wives (and perhaps especially those who were biracial themselves) probably also began to incorporate some imported food- stuff s into their diets. Adair noted that the traders imported goods that they liked, including “chocolate, coff ee, and sugar, which enables them with their numberless quantity of fowls-eggs, fruit, &c. to have puddings, pyes, pastries, fritters, and many other articles of the like kind.” Adair did not indicate, how- ever, who prepared these confections. Many a trader’s wife probably had to learn new cooking skills.⁵⁶ Such modifi cations did not always go uncontested, however. Adair related an instance in which a Chickasaw woman married to a trader became very ill. Th e Indian doctor “ascribed her ailment to the eating Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 161 of swine’s fl esh, blood, and other polluting food.” Th e woman herself became convinced that she had become ill “because she had eaten a great many fowls after the manner of the white people.” She thereafter refused to eat domesti- cated birds.⁵⁷ In the early decades of the trade, traders most likely moved in with their wives’ families, following the patterns of matrilocal residence. Little is known of what traders thought of their wives’ habits of housekeeping. Some early travelers did complain that winter dwellings were smoky and poorly ventilated, and one complained that the houses were dirty and full of fl eas and that the people did not get out of bed to relieve themselves.⁵⁸ Adair, on the other hand, writing in the 1770s, reported, “Most of the Indians have clean, neat, dwelling houses, white- washed within and without.”⁵⁹ Clean or dirty, the houses must at least initially have seemed very foreign to Europeans, who would have been forced to accommodate themselves to living in the Indian manner. Traders also left few records about how they felt about lodging with their wives’ extended families. Th ere were doubtless times when the situation could be uncomfort- able and when European men missed having their own homes. At such times, however, they could retreat to their stores, and presumably they spent a good deal of time there. By the time Adair wrote, many traders seem to have re- sided most of the time in their own shops. Adair reported that the “traders hot-houses are appropriated to their young-rising prolifi c family . . . their vari- ous buildings, are like towers in cities, beyond the common size of those of the Indians.”⁶⁰ In this, the traders’ residence patterns paralleled (or perhaps pre- saged) a growing tendency toward dispersed dwelling and single- family house- holds in southeastern communities in general.⁶¹ Marriage to an Indian woman required a European husband to learn about cultural practices and taboos in the most intimate arenas of married life.⁶² During religious or cultural ceremonies, both men and women in native soci- eties were expected to abstain from all sexual contact. During the busk, in ad- dition to fasting and taking black drink, men were exhorted to stay away from women for the four days preceding the feast. Th e goal, according to Bartram, was to “abstain from the gratifi cation of every appetite and passion whatever.”⁶³ Similar prescriptions applied to men preparing for or returning from war. In addition to fasting and drinking (and vomiting) “war physic,” the men were to avoid sexual relations for three days before they went out and after they returned. Any man who broke the rules was separated from the others and might have his clothing stripped from him as a marker of his shame. Violation 162 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage of these prescriptions was a serious off ense because it threatened the purity of the whole war party or the town during the busk (the purpose of which was to purify the town of the year’s pollutions). Th e off ender might fi nd himself blamed for any misfortune that befell his village for the next year.⁶⁴ Traders living in native towns would have found themselves subject to similar require- ments, which doubtless at fi rst seemed strange. A savvy businessman, however, accustomed himself to such expectations quickly if he wished to avoid the cen- sure of the town. Th e practice of refraining from sex, combined with the observation that native men were not openly emotional, often led European observers to con- clude that Indian males were passionless or unfeeling. John Lawson concluded that “the Indian Men are not so vigorous and impatient in their Love as we are.” Lawson compared Indian men’s capacity for aff ection and their manhood with that of British men and found them wanting. He even concluded insultingly that “those Indian Girls that have convers’d with the English and other Euro- peans, never care for the Conversation of their own Countrymen afterwards.” European men, because they were capable of more refi ned feelings, were in Lawson’s estimation better lovers and superior men.⁶⁵ Such assessments could then be carried into the diplomatic and political realm, disqualifying Indian men from land ownership because of their passivity and lack of manliness.⁶⁶ Traders would also be deprived of the company (and labor) of their wives for several days out of every month. Just as Indians considered a warrior re- turning from battle to be contaminated by contact with blood, they consid- ered a menstruating woman a source of pollution (or alternatively as spiritually powerful and therefore also potentially dangerous).⁶⁷ When women experi- enced their monthly cycles, they retired to a small hut set apart from the town, called a moon house. During the time of women’s separation, most tribes be- lieved that any contact would convey “a most horrid and dangerous pollution to those who touch, or go near them.” If a woman violated these practices and returned to her own house prematurely, or if she brought any fi re or other object from the menstrual hut, she might expect to “die from the strength of the sickness which would be increased” or she “would be censured, and suff er for any sudden sickness, or death that might happen among the people.”⁶⁸ Far from being an onerous experience for women, menstrual seclusion may have contributed to the formation of bonds between women through the sharing of stories, housework, and ritual, as well as giving women a break from the chores of the household for several days.⁶⁹ For trader-husbands, however, the experi- Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 163 ence may have been less congenial. European observers expressed alarm at the vulnerable and exposed position of a woman staying by herself on the outskirts of town, as “the lurking enemy sometimes kills them in their religious retire- ment.”⁷⁰ Husbands may have worried about their wives or resented being de- prived of their domestic labor, especially if they chose not to reside with their in-laws on a regular basis. Visitors or recent immigrants could cause problems if they failed to understand taboos related to women’s menstrual seclusion. One early traveler among the Choctaw reported that he awoke one morning and, when he could not fi nd his hostess, went looking for her. Finding her at a distant cabin, he prevailed upon her after many entreaties to make him some porridge. Th e woman’s husband later returned from hunting and also ate some of the porridge, but when he found out that it had been prepared by his wife he became violently ill, pointing out that the dish had blood in it.⁷¹ Long- term residents had to learn that ignoring taboos would not long be tolerated. Menstrual separation was not the only time when husbands had to ac- cept their wives’ temporary absence. Women also secluded themselves after the birth of children. Adair reported that Creek women would “absent them- selves from their husbands and all public company” after the birth of a child for “three moons.”⁷² Th is custom likely stemmed from the fl ow of blood during childbirth. Such a practice likely had the eff ect of allowing women to heal and recover from childbirth before resuming the normal labor of the household and sexual relations with their husbands. A woman’s husband likewise faced restrictions at the time of his child’s birth. When a Choctaw man’s wife was in labor he was expected to fast, eating only after sunset.⁷³ Trader-husbands had to adapt to such expectations. Alexander Longe noted that at times, nurs- ing women would not share their husbands’ beds “for fear that it should spoil the child’s milk.” He found this to be a hardship even for native husbands, al- though he also noted that many wives allowed their mates to take mistresses during the interim.⁷⁴ Far more serious problems faced mixed families when diplomatic relations between European colonies and Indian towns deteriorated. Although cross- cultural marriages were intended to help solidify alliances, they might also be- come casualties when those alliances fell apart under the weight of trading, territorial, or other disputes. In many cases, native women married to Brit- ish men had to choose between loyalty to their towns and to their husbands. Many chose the latter. Th e depth of commitment and aff ection between James Beamer and his Cherokee wife and children became evident in 1759 when he 164 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage was forced to fl ee Keowee as longstanding hostilities escalated into the so- called Cherokee War. His two grown sons spirited him out of the town to pro- tect him when outraged Cherokee warriors began targeting traders in their frustration over worsening relations. His son Th omas returned the next day to fetch Beamer’s wife and daughter. Th e family in this instance chose to stay to- gether, even if that meant leaving the nation.⁷⁵ Such close bonds within mixed families could create a political conundrum for Indian societies when wives chose the safety of their European husbands over other loyalties. During the siege of Fort Loudoun, the Cherokee wives of the soldiers insisted on supplying their husbands with provisions. Th e women’s behavior frustrated the plans of the local leadership. Th e prominent headman Willinawaw “threatened death to those who would assist their enemy” but in vain. Th e women merely “laughed at his threats, boldly told him, they would succour their husbands every day, and were sure, that, if he killed them, their relations would make his death atone for theirs.”⁷⁶ Although the women did not intend revolt or a rejection of their townsmen and were simply honoring their marriages, their actions undermined the authority of the headmen. With intermarriage, the personal could never be fully separated from the political. Women’s decisions to defend their husbands could have more far-reaching implications, aff ecting the infl uence that women could wield in the nation. Mi- chelene Pesantubbee has suggested that among the Choctaw, the torn loyal- ties of the women led the men of their communities to distrust their loyal- ties and exclude them from decisions about war.⁷⁷ Th e Cherokee seemed to have experienced the same problems. Th e American Revolution brought con- fusion and division to the Cherokee. Good Warrior of “Conwee” (Cowee) en- trusted White Dog of the Valley with a secret message to Glass (a supporter of the anti- American chief ), containing promises from the British agent John Stuart. He was “particularly cautioned to let no woman know anything of this part of my message.” White Dog found this secrecy sus- picious and refused to deliver the message, instead bringing word of the talk to the American agent John Lewis Gervais.⁷⁸ Good Warrior probably feared that many women within Glass’s town opposed an alliance with the British, fa- voring either the Americans or (more likely) neutrality, and he hoped to leave them out of the loop until the matter was concluded. Not all relationships between British men and Indian women were har- monious, and the breakdown in private domestic harmony could have much broader diplomatic implications. Physical and sexual abuse of native women Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 165 by Englishmen quickly became the topic of diplomatic discussions and ne- gotiations. Headmen regularly carried complaints to British offi cials, seeking redress. In 1710, the commissioners heard testimony that “Phillip Gailliard, a Trader, took a young Indian against her Will for his Wife, and cruelly whipped her and her Brother for accepting a few Beades from her, to the great Greife of the Indians there present.” Gailliard appears to have made a habit of such be- havior. An Indian named the Carpenter complained that “the said G[a]illiard made a Woeman drunk with Rum and locked her up from her Mother, off er- ing to kill the Mother becaus she would not leve her Daughter behind her.”⁷⁹ Two years later, the king of the Altimahaw and several of his warriors com- plained that the trader Alexander Nicholas “beat a Woman that he kept for his Wife so that she dyed and the Child within her.” Further, they added, “an- other Woman he has beat since, the Chasee King’s Wife, who is very ill, and another Woman being King Altimahaw’s Sister.”⁸⁰ Th e commissioners failed to take eff ective action against the perpetrators in both cases, and such inci- dents continued, poisoning the relations between the British and their native neighbors. William Byrd would later blame the start of the Tuscarora War in part on the poor behavior of the traders “by abusing their Women.” He could have made the same statement about the Yamasee War.⁸¹ Th e mistreatment of Indian women probably made many towns reconsider the value of British trade for their families and could have served as a trigger for people already alarmed by their rising levels of debt and growing dependency on European imports. Th e inability of the British governments in Virginia or the Caroli- nas to restrain the abusive traders led Indians to doubt the commitment of the British governments to their alliance. In the years after the Tuscarora and Yamasee Wars, the British took stron- ger measures to regulate the Indian trade and to discipline traders and other British men who traveled to the Indian nations, although even these measures were often unsuccessful. In 1756, Captain Raymond Demere, stationed at Fort Prince George in Keowee in the Cherokee nation, noted that he had specifi - cally forbidden the soldiers “from using the Indians or their Women ill; other- wise they may expect to be tried by a Court Marshal and severely punished.”⁸² British men continued to have a bad reputation among the Cherokee, how- ever, and that same year the Overhills chiefs Kanagatoga and Standing Tur- key sent runners to Keowee to inquire “if the White People had begun to use them and their Women ill.”⁸³ Complaints of specifi c instances of physical vio- lence tapered off after the Yamasee War, but generalized accusations of adul- 166 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage tery, rape, or poor treatment persisted, indicating that the mistreatment of Indian women continued to plague the relationship between the British and their Indian neighbors throughout the eighteenth century. Most grievances after 1715 centered on accusations of sexual misconduct rather than physical abuse, suggesting that Englishmen’s views of Indian women as sexually available became the primary locus of misunderstandings. Th e wide variety in types of relationships traders could establish with native women not infrequently caused confusion. Because native communities recognized inti- mate relationships other than marriage, many European men came to see na- tive women as promiscuous.⁸⁴ Analyzing European statements about native women’s sexuality can prove problematic, however. Most statements regard- ing European views of Indian sexual morality derive from travel accounts. Yet travel literature itself was part of the complex process of colonization and of creating an other that could be subjugated.⁸⁵ Gordon Sayre has noted that “even when explorers . . . tried to represent literally their eyewitness observa- tions of native sexual or marriage customs, they were always responding to their own preconceptions.” As Sayre further explains, “Explorers’ and promot- ers’ accounts of Indian marriage and sex treat it almost as another resource of the land. . . . Th ere is a promise of engagement and participation.”⁸⁶ More permissive Indian mores that allowed premarital sex and divorce combined with European fantasies to produce an image of “loose” Indian women eager to form liaisons with white men.⁸⁷ It should be noted, however, that there was considerable diversity in Euro- pean and Anglo- American morals as well. While the churches, Anglican and dissenting alike, taught that sex was to be limited to marriage and the laws on the books in the various colonies echoed this prescription, many settlers did not abide by such limitations. Many colonists followed popular customs that were more permissive than clerical and secular authorities might have wished. Rather, sexual mores were contested not just between cultures but within so- cieties as well.⁸⁸ Many traders appear to have been among those who wished for looser sexual codes (for themselves if not necessarily for the women with whom they spent their lives). Many found Indian culture attractive precisely because they believed that indigenous communities off ered the possibility of greater sexual freedom. Travelers almost universally portrayed Indian women as unchaste and therefore sexually available. Of all British observers, John Lawson wrote most condemningly of Indian sexual mores. He asserted that “Girls of 12 or 13 Years Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 167 of Age, as soon as Nature prompts them, freely bestow their Maidenheads on some Youth about the same Age, continuing her Favours on whom she most aff ects.” Further, the girls changed their mates often, “few or none of them be- ing constant to one, till . . . she hath try’d the Vigour of most of the Nation she belongs to.” Having had a multitude of sexual partners was in no way a stain on a woman’s reputation, he mused, but rather “the more Whorish, the more Honourable.” Lawson often referred to the women with insulting terms such as “thorough-paced Girls,” “Whores,” or sometimes, sarcastically, “Virgins” (while clearly meaning the opposite). He regaled his readers with what were intended to be witty stories of hapless travelers taken advantage of by mercenary trading girls who stripped them of all their belongings.⁸⁹ Th ese viewpoints persisted throughout the British colonial era. Writing more than sixty years after Law- son, Bernard Romans reported, “Fornication is among them thought to be a natural accident, therefore the girl is not the worse looked on for ten or a dozen slips.” He concluded disapprovingly that “they are lascivious, and have no idea of chastity in a girl.”⁹⁰ Such perceived behavior violated European norms of sexual morality, even as contested as those norms might have been. Th e situation was complicated by the role of the chief in arranging liaisons with trading girls. Lawson wrote that the chief commonly was “the principal Bawd of the Nation he rules over.”⁹¹ To Europeans, providing sexual compan- ionship to visitors compromised the chief ’s authority and discredited him as the leader of his people. Men who facilitated prostitution were viewed with contempt. Laura Gowing, in her study on sexual slander, notes: “In the house- hold imagined by defamers, men can also be bawds; for them it involves a par- ticular kind of shame. A man accused of being a bawd to his wife or daugh- ter is both in control of her sexuality—as her bawd—and alienated from the power which he is supposed to have as the guardian of her behaviour. He is implicated too in the reversal of correct economic relations, maintained by the profi ts of a woman meant to be dependent on him.”⁹² Because the household provided the model for the state, a political leader who “pimped” his “subjects” likewise would be deemed to have forfeited his right to rule. By extension, then, the supposed immorality of Indian women refl ected badly not just on the women themselves but on the society in general and on the political lead- ership in particular. Views of American Indian women as sexually available became a problem when travelers and traders acted on these beliefs, as they routinely did. In 1741, an English baronet named Richard Everard journeyed to Coweta, the leading 168 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage town of the Lower Creek nation. Th e local headman, Chigelli, asked Everard why he ventured so far if he did not bring an offi cial talk from the king. Eve- rard replied that “[h]e came there to lye with their Women.” Chigelli, shocked, pointedly responded that “when any of his Daughters wanted an husband he would send for him.” Th e headman later complained to Georgia offi cials that he had been “much off ended at ye Baronets behavior,” adding that “he Suspected, he had escaped from the Strong House in England.” Everard was eventually in- dicted for a number of off enses committed in Georgia, including his behavior in Creek country.⁹³ Everard’s high status made him a particularly problematic fi gure in frontier diplomacy, and his case received more attention than many others involving lower- class individuals, but those men too could create diplo- matic incidents. Offi cials generally lamented that it was often “[a] Sett of idle Vagrants” who entered the nations without a license who caused problems. Th ese men, one observer reported, “gett an Indian Wife which is all their De- sire and frequently they take the better of them and defraud them, to the no small Prejudice of our Interest.”⁹⁴ Again, it was often diffi cult to separate in- dividual behavior from the diplomatic relationship that (at least in theory) ac- companied it. Th e Choctaw chief Tatoulimataha in fact asked if “it was by the order of the [French] governor that the chiefs and other Frenchmen who are in the nation were sent, who behaved badly toward them and their wives.”⁹⁵ Traders’ seeming obsession with the pursuit of native women led Indian communities to form negative opinions of British manhood. Many chiefs in- dicated that they considered British men to be little more than sex- crazed ani- mals, not worthy of respect and certainly not good “ambassadors” of European culture. In 1754, the trader Richard Paris arrived in the Cherokee nation from Virginia with a message for Kanagatoga. However, “he came in and passed by the Town of Chottee . . . going to Toquo where he [kept] an Indian wench.” Kanagatoga, off ended at the slight, sent for him “and asked him if the Gover- nor had wrote a Letter to his Wench, that he put him in mind of a Young Buck in rutting time who rambled hither and Th ither in quest of Doe, neglecting every thing else.”⁹⁶ A real man, Kanagatoga implied, took care of his obliga- tions (especially diplomatic ones) before pursuing his amorous aims. A year later, Kanagatoga used a similar suggestion to shame the British for taking so long to construct Fort Loudoun. “[I]f he had seen any Women amongst us,” he told Raymond Demere, the fort’s commander, “he would have immagined that Dallying with them had employed us, but as he saw none he knows not what we have been doing.”⁹⁷ While the British faulted native men (and chiefs Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 169 in particular) for not taking more care to restrict the sexual behavior of their women, Kanagatoga clearly thought less of British men for not being able to control their own urges. British men developed such a reputation for pursuing native women that in 1748, a group of French-allied Indians determined to attack traders among the Chickasaw decided to use Englishmen’s lusts to their own advantage. Ar- riving at the traders’ houses, “they patted with their hands a considerable time on one of the doors, as a decoy, imitating the earnest rap of the young women who go a visiting that time of night.”⁹⁸ Th e attempt failed, but the fact that they tried this subterfuge reveals a lot about Indian assumptions about traders. Brit- ish offi cials could never understand why native peoples did not recognize that “Christian” culture and religion were superior. However, the shoddy behavior of some white men toward Indian women probably served to convince many native people of exactly the opposite. It may in fact have led Indians to under- estimate British military and diplomatic capabilities by convincing them that British men lacked discipline and focus. British traders might also create discord when they underestimated the commitment involved in Indians’ marriages. Lawson reported: “I knew an Eu- ropean Man that had a Child or two by one of these Indian Women, and after- wards married a Christian, after which he came to pass away a Night with his Indian Mistress; but she made Answer that she then had forgot she ever knew him, and that she never lay with another Woman’s Husband, so fell a crying, and took up the Child she had by him, and went out of the Cabin (away from him) in great Disorder.”⁹⁹ Th e eff ect that this incident had on the ability of the man to trade in his ex-wife’s town is not clear in Lawson’s account. In this case the consequences were personal rather than explicitly political (although there may have been political implications as well). While polygyny was generally al- lowed in southeastern societies, a man needed to secure the permission of his fi rst wife before taking another. If the fi rst wife objected to the presence of the other woman, she and her relatives might beat her, although by taking this ac- tion the fi rst wife eff ectively ended her own marriage. Tradition within native communities dictated that a man who wished to have more than one spouse should marry sisters or close relatives.¹⁰⁰ Th e trader, however, not considering the union legitimate, had failed to abide by generally accepted rules of behavior. Th e unnamed woman, realizing that she was not being accorded the respect due her, chose to leave him rather than endure the disgrace. British men often made the situation worse by failing to diff erentiate 170 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage between single and married women in their amorous pursuits, violating native rules and creating animosity. While a certain amount of sexual freedom was permitted before marriage, adultery with a married woman was a serious of- fense and carried dangerous consequences. Punishments varied among tribes and over time. Th omas Nairne recorded in 1708 that among the Chickasaw, if a woman was discovered in adultery, “Death Certainly Ensues, both to her and the gallant for the husband and his kindred seldom ever put up [with] an afront of that nature.”¹⁰¹ By the mid- eighteenth century, however, the penalty seems to have been reduced. Adair reported that among the Chickasaw and Creek, the off ended husband rounded up his relations and friends, who then laid hold of his wife and the interloping man, beat them both, cropped their ears and sometimes the tips of their noses, and cut off the woman’s hair. Th e marriage was then considered terminated, and a husband could not take his wife back. Th e Cherokee appear to have been unique in the Southeast in their general tolerance of adultery. Adair reported that Cherokee men “allow their women full liberty to plant their brows with horns as oft as they please, with- out fear of punishment.”¹⁰² More than one trader was forced to fl ee in order to save his nose and ears from an outraged husband. William Bartram recounted an instance in which one of his friends, a trader in Alabama town, had to fl ee the nation because he “had been detected in an amorous intrigue, with the wife of a young chief.” Th e husband and his kin set upon the trader, who barely escaped with all append- ages intact. Th is was not the end of the matter. Th e situation was laid before a council of chiefs, which determined “that he [the trader] must lose his ears, or forfeit all his goods, which amounted to upwards of one thousand pounds sterling, and even that forfeiture would not save his ears.”¹⁰³ Adair noted that among the Creek, “the trading people’s ears are often in danger, by the sharp- ness of this law,” although he blamed the Indians for “suborning false witnesses, or admitting foolish children as legal evidence” rather than the traders’ own adulterous behavior.¹⁰⁴ When Europeans failed to respect Indian marriages, their behavior could have serious diplomatic consequences. Headmen frequently complained “of the white People in general for debauching their Wifes.”¹⁰⁵ Such incidents could provoke violence, if not outright warfare. Both Beauchamp and Adair attrib- uted the revolt of a part of the Choctaw nation against the French in the 1740s to the actions of French soldiers at Fort Tombigbe, one of whom “was detected in violating the law of marriage with the favourite wife of the warlike chieftain Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 171 of Quansheto, Shulashummashtabe.”¹⁰⁶ Adair further claimed that an incident at Fort Prince George added fuel to the fi re of Cherokee discontent, eventually precipitating the Cherokee War. At that time, “three light- headed, disorderly young offi cers of that garrison, forcibly violated some of their wives, and in the most shameless manner, in their own houses, while the husbands were making their winter hunt in the woods.”¹⁰⁷ While Cherokee laws regarding adultery were fairly lax, in this instance the soldiers were guilty not only of wife stealing but more seriously of rape. Eff orts by the British government and Indian headmen to restrain trader abuses never eliminated the problems that mistreatment of native women caused for Anglo-Indian relations. Th e threat of clan retaliation might serve to limit trader behavior to a certain extent, but it could only go so far. Exces- sive violence toward traders (even if it was well deserved) would bring de- mands for justice from the British government, limiting native options. Th e amount of discussion the issue provoked indicates the seriousness of the problem for Indian communities as well as the diffi culty British governments experienced in disciplining subjects who lived far from any eff ective mecha- nisms of control. Although representing probably a minority of Anglo-Indian liaisons, abusive or illicit relationships could be disproportionately disruptive and dangerous. Intermarriage therefore had mixed results, both for the couples involved and for the nations to which they belonged. Happy marriages that had been stra- tegically arranged between pro-British elite clans and established traders could solidify trading relations and promote long-term goodwill. Bilingual traders familiar with their wives’ cultures could serve as intermediaries during diplo- matic councils and smooth the way for mutually advantageous alliances. Abu- sive relationships, on the other hand, could unravel the fabric of those alliances, producing distrust and animosity that could take years to repair. Although co- lonial governments sought solutions to the problem, the very weakness of im- perial power on the peripheries meant that most solutions would have to be negotiated in the realm of frontier diplomacy, using the same techniques of gift giving and kinship building relied on to remedy other disputes, with the same spotty record of success. For the most part, however, European need for Indian allies and Indian demand for trade goods meant that abuses were smoothed over one way or another, and the sometimes dysfunctional family relationships continued to bind British and native together in an increasingly entangled web of kinship and trade. 172 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage

“By His Whiteness They Supposed Him to Be a Whiteman’s Son”: Biracial Children

In 1739, Th omas Jones headed a party of Creek and Euchee warriors during Oglethorpe’s expedition against St. Augustine. Jones was an unusual person in the early-eighteenth- century Southeast; half Creek and half English, he was chosen by the Georgia government to “command” the Indian warriors during their forays into Spanish territory. Jones was bilingual (he was formally em- ployed as a “Linguister”) and was a trader in the Creek nation. He owned prop- erty in British communities, residing near Pon Pon and owning a town lot in Savannah. British offi cials appear to have considered him more British than Indian. Jones is identifi ed in the records as being “of Indian Extract,” as opposed to being listed as a “half-breed,” the term usually used for biracial children liv- ing in native societies.¹⁰⁸ Yet Jones also knew his mother’s people well, and he warned General Oglethorpe that he risked alienating the Creek if he did not allow them to wage war their own way. Despite his misgivings, Jones ultimately followed Oglethorpe’s directions, manning the garrison at the ill-fated Fort Moosa and leading the warriors on the scouting expeditions that they hated.¹⁰⁹ Th ere is no way of knowing how Jones’s Creek relatives viewed him or whether they reckoned him to be more white or Indian. Th e children born of mixed marriages most concretely embodied the ef- forts of British and native peoples to create kinship ties connecting their two societies. With one parent from each community, biracial children occupied a place in between and often served as cultural intermediaries. Because Brit- ish and natives understood matters of descent and kinship diff erently, they had diff erent expectations regarding the role that “mixed- blood” individuals should play on the southern frontier. Indians, following the rules of matrilin- eal inheritance, considered the children born of interracial unions to be mem- bers of their mother’s tribe. British viewpoints were more complex. While in theory the laws of patrilineal inheritance would give a father primary claim to the children (thereby making them British), the “illegitimacy” of Anglo-Indian marriages undermined the father’s control.¹¹⁰ Furthermore, the weakness of British imperial control on the frontiers meant that most traders lacked the ability to impose their own notions of patriarchal family structure on Indian communities. Native rules of family organization, inheritance, and education prevailed for most biracial people until the late eighteenth century. Although a highly acculturated cadre of “mixed bloods” would rise to leadership in na- Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 173 tive communities by the early national period, the role of biracial people in the colonial period was far more complex. Th eir lot varied widely and depended on a number of factors, including the status of both parents, the relationship the children had with their British fathers and with their matrilineal kin, and the type of education the parents chose to provide for them.¹¹¹ Diplomatically, they exercised an infl uence disproportionate to their numbers. Th e skills that mixed- race individuals possessed made them ideal intermediaries in the ever- shifting world of the southern frontier. Such knowledge could also be detri- mental, however, and could just as easily be used to tear down alliances as to build them. Historians disagree about the degree to which biracial individuals were also bicultural. Th eda Perdue has maintained that “mixed- blood Indians” were ex- actly that: Indian. It is a fallacy based on modern Anglo- American notions of race to diff erentiate biracial people from “full- blood” Indians, she writes.¹¹² Andrew Frank, on the other hand, has argued that Creek “mixed bloods” “si- multaneously obtained and maintained their central roles in both Creek and European American societies.”¹¹³ Tom Hatley takes the position that the Cher- okee themselves were sometimes ambivalent or divided about how to view biracial members of their society, and biracial people might be torn when it came to personal allegiances.¹¹⁴ Ultimately, the degree of biculturalism biracial people exhibited depended greatly on the individual. Some children of trad- ers were raised exclusively in Indian country and were indistinguishable from their “full-blooded” peers. Others received a British education and had very close ties to their fathers’ people. Anglicized “mixed bloods” (like Mary Mus- grove or Th omas Jones) were only a small minority in the early years but had become an increasingly important portion of the native population by the end of the eighteenth century. Th e heritage of their British fathers could aff ect bi- racial children in a multitude of ways. Identity is rarely simple, and the frontier allowed for a great deal of ambiguity and compromise, as well as confusion and misunderstanding. Overall, the infl uence of British culture on biracial children gradually increased over the course of the eighteenth century as Indians grew more dependent on British trade and as diplomatic relations with the British took on greater importance. Although colonial theorists had hoped that the off spring of British men and Indian women would be “the hardiest and best attached” among a Britain’s Indian allies, the reality was far more complicated.¹¹⁵ Th e majority of mixed- blood children in the southern interior lived most of their lives in native soci- 174 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage ety and considered themselves Indian. John Lawson noted that the children of Anglo-Indian marriages were “seldom educated any otherwise than in a State of Infi delity; for it is a certain Rule and Custom, amongst all the Savages of America . . . to let the Children always fall to the Woman’s Lot.” Th erefore, it was usually “impossible for the Christians to get their Children (which they have by these Indian Women) away from them; whereby they might bring them up in the Knowledge of the Christian Principles.”¹¹⁶ Th is rule held fairly constant throughout the colonial period. As late as the 1790s, Louis- Philippe noted that most “neither read nor write, and ordinarily speak only the tribal tongue.”¹¹⁷ Native rules of child rearing applied, and these allotted the father a very limited role in his children’s upbringing. Even those that might have wished to introduce notions of patriarchy into Indian communities and fami- lies generally lacked the ability to do so. Th ere are some exceptions to this rule. Both Mary and Johnny Musgrove were the children of infl uential settlers and spent at least part of their child- hood among the British. Mary lived the fi rst several years of her life in the Creek town of Tuckabatchee but then resided with her father, Edward Grif- fi n, in the British settlement of Pon Pon for several years, where she was bap- tized and educated. Unlike most biracial children (and most British men and women), Mary could read and write. Her fi rst husband, Johnny Musgrove, spent some time in British communities with his father, Colonel John Mus- grove. He was not as acculturated as his wife, however. Tobias Fitch found Johnny to be “as good a Linguister as any I believe only he wants some En- glish but I can understand him very well and he can do the Same by me.” After Johnny’s death, Mary remarried twice, to English men, and lived the rest of her life among the British, running a plantation and trading post and serving as a crucial intermediary for the colony of Georgia.¹¹⁸ Th e status of the fathers of biracial children appears to have infl uenced how likely it was that their children would receive some English education. Born around 1750, Alexander McGillivray, the son of the leading Scottish trader Lachlan McGillivray, received an English-style education in Charles Town. Th e decision to educate Alexander in this manner may also have stemmed from the fact that Alexander’s mother was herself biracial, the daughter of a Creek woman and a French offi cer, and thus may have been more sympathetic to European ways. Lachlan, having spent a signifi cant number of years in the nation, had earned the trust and respect of many of the leading headmen; he therefore may have had more success in broaching the subject with his wife’s Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 175 relatives. Alexander eventually returned to the nation and became a prominent and sometimes controversial pro-acculturation chief during the 1780s.¹¹⁹ Not all children of mixed parentage adapted as well to life between two cultures. In 1747, the South Carolina Council read a petition from Elizabeth McQueen, the daughter of an English man and a Creek woman. McQueen re- sided in the British settlements with a white family (who remained unnamed). Although her exact position is unclear, she was probably a servant, indicating that she lacked the protection that more fortunate biracial children received from their fathers. Th at fall, McQueen was convicted of murdering her illegiti- mate child, but with the support of the judges sitting at her trial, she appealed to the governor for clemency. She claimed that the child had been born dead and that she had not been aware that “a Bastard Child born dead and Con- cealed by the Mother is by the law deemd to be born alive and murthered.” McQueen (or her attorney) claimed that “the Custome of the Indians and the Ignorance [that] usually attends persons in her low Situation being poor and half Indian . . . may plead for some extinuation of her guilt.” Th e judges added their voices to hers, concluding that “considering her birth and Education being an half Indian she was the more easily Seduced and deluded upon a promise of Marriage.” Because she was, according to the people she lived with, of good character, she was therefore a good candidate for mercy. In the end the gover- nor and council concurred, commuting her death sentence.¹²⁰ Although Mc- Queen clearly had lived in the British settlements for several years, her Brit- ish contemporaries considered her background distinct. It is diffi cult to tell whether her plea for clemency reveals racial prejudice on the part of the justices or a recognition that she continued to adhere to some native values in terms of sexual mores and the rights of a mother over her children.¹²¹ British offi cials recognized a clear distinction between those biracial indi- viduals who were educated in British society and those who self- identifi ed as Indian. In 1765 Superintendent John Stuart proposed a series of trade regula- tions to the governors of the southern colonies, hoping to alleviate some of the abuses traders committed. One guideline he proposed was that “[n]o Trader shall employ any . . . half breed [who] from his manner of Life shall to the Conscience of a Jury be Considered as Living under the Indian Government as a factor or deputy to Trade in any Town or Village on account of the said Trade.”¹²² Stuart believed that the lifestyle, more than the race, of a mixed- blood person determined his allegiances and therefore the extent to which he could be trusted. 176 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage Most biracial people in the eighteenth century did not receive an English- style education. Instead, they lived most if not all of their lives in native com- munities and were raised according to native customs. Th e responsibility for educating and disciplining a child in southeastern societies belonged to the mother’s family, especially to her brother. A boy’s maternal uncle took him under his wing and taught him the skills necessary for manhood. An uncle might take his nephew to war with him and even share “half of the scalp he has taken with [his nephew] and [have] him received as a warrior.”¹²³ Mothers’ brothers helped to arrange marriages for their nieces. A child’s father was not an unimportant fi gure in his or her life, however. Although not considered to be a blood relative, a father did have the responsibility of furnishing necessi- ties for his children, symbolized by his gift of the cradleboard for his newborn infant.¹²⁴ Th e role of father was therefore one of aff ectionate provider rather than disciplinarian or authority fi gure, although children treated their fathers and their fathers’ relatives with respect. Even following a divorce, fathers did not sever their relationships with their children. William Bartram indicated that if a couple separated, “the father [was] obliged to contribute towards [the children’s] maintenance during their minority.”¹²⁵ From infancy, children were trained to embody the values of their socie ties. Boys were raised to be strong hunters and warriors, while girls were taught to farm and care for families. James Adair reported that male children were reared “on the skins of panthers” in the hope that these skins would commu- nicate to the child the “strength, cunning,” and “prodigious spring” of the wild cat. Such a bed represented “the fi rst rudiments of war” to the young boy. Boys were taught from an early age to use weapons, as well as other skills useful for war.¹²⁶ Female infants, on the other hand, were lain on fawn skins “because they are shy and timorous,” qualities valued in a woman.¹²⁷ Girls learned from their mothers and aunts the female occupations of cooking, farming, and bas- ketry. Both sexes went through coming-of-age ceremonies, although European observers usually wrote more about those for boys than for girls. Among the Piedmont tribes visited by John Lawson, teenagers (male and female) retired to a specialized house where they observed a fast and made use of “intoxicat- ing Plants” for fi ve to six weeks. When they emerged, each observed a period of silence. Lawson viewed the practice as brutal, a “diabolical Purgation.” Th e natives told Lawson that these ceremonies hardened the young men “to the Fa- tigues of War, Hunting, and all manner of Hardship.” (He did not comment on the purpose of the ceremony for the girls.)¹²⁸ Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 177 In general, southeastern child-rearing practices were lenient, often too le- nient for many European observers. British fathers had to restrain themselves from stepping in with their own discipline if they did not wish to incur the wrath of their in-laws. John Lederer complained that “[t]hese Indians are so indiscreetly fond of their children, that they will not chastise them for any mischief or insolence.” Native parents shied away from corporal punishment of children, preferring techniques of shaming or shunning instead. Th e only kind of physical correction used was dry- scratching, in which a child’s rela- tions scraped his arms and legs with garfi sh teeth, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to leave visible marks. Such punishment produced a great deal of ridicule, as everyone in the village could see that the child had been dis- ciplined. Parents also would “give [children] ill names . . . calling them mad” or make use of “an ironical way of jesting,” praising them for the opposite virtue of the off ense they had committed. Such sarcasm seems to have been quite ef- fective and would “wound deeply.” Most children usually would “sooner die by torture, than renew their shame” by repeating their off enses.¹²⁹ Unable to exert control over their off spring (and often having white wives and legitimate heirs back in the settlements or in England or Scotland who might not have been happy to welcome “bastard half-breeds” into their fami- lies), most traders appear to have accepted the fact that their children would be raised in native society by their maternal relations. Th ey therefore set out to make the best possible lives for their progeny, bringing them to the attention of colonial governments when they could and leaving them goods in their wills that would be useful to Indian men or women. Trader Jonathan Evans sent his “half Breed Son John Evans” down to Charles Town with a letter to the gov- ernor and took the opportunity to request that the governor “give him a Com- mission as Warrior of the Charraw People.”¹³⁰ Although unable to educate his son as an Englishman, Evans took steps to advance the young man’s posi- tion within the nation. Th e governor, though, took the road of cau- tion, deferring his decision until he was able to meet with the Catawba king. Th e longtime trader John Pettygrew bequeathed to his “reputed Natural Son” John, a Creek Indian, two horses of his choice and “the wearing Apparel that I bought for his use.” Th e rest of his property he left to his white wife Catharine and daughter Jane.¹³¹ Robert Gowdy’s will bequeathed a small amount of cash to each of his Indian wives and children.¹³² Other fathers probably gave their half- Indian children gifts during their lifetimes. Th e position that biracial children enjoyed in the Indian nations depended 178 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage largely on the status of their mothers. By midcentury, some mixed-race men rose to prominence and leadership. British offi cials labeled two such chiefs simply as “Half Breed Johnny” of the Overhills Cherokee and the “Half Breed of the Tuccobatchees.”¹³³ Such designation appears to have been the only fac- tor signifi cantly distinguishing them from their “pure-blood” friends and rela- tives. Even as late as the American Revolution, another chief simply named the “Half-Breed” of Okfuskee (Creek) worked hard to maintain his town’s neutral- ity. He resisted British eff orts to turn the Creek against the Americans, asking John Stuart “why he Set the Cowetas a Killing the Virginnia People,” although he tried to maintain the British trade. Th e British and the Americans both considered the chief an Okfuskee, paying little attention to his biracial status and not making any eff ort to use it to their advantage. Th e “Half-Breed” did not identify with either side and skillfully played the British and the Americans against one another while committing to neither.¹³⁴ Th e contrast between the identity claimed by these chiefs (and acknowledged by the British) and that of many biracial leaders who emerged in the years after the American Revolution is stark. Although their dual heritage was noted, they did not demonstrate the degree of acculturation that later “mixed-blood” leaders like Alexander McGil- livray would. Th ey led in distinctly Indian fashion and showed no signs of lit- eracy or English education. Th ey did not take their fathers’ names, indicating that it was their matrilineal ties that played the most signifi cant role in deter- mining their sense of self and political allegiances. Although many leading traders married high- status women and might see their sons grow into leadership positions, many others married women of middle or lower status. Th e children of such unions generally created other positions for themselves within their mothers’ society or as go-betweens. Al- though British offi cials sometimes tried to exclude biracial individuals from the trade, many engaged in it anyway. John Brown, “a Half- breed by a Chero- kee Woman,” was the trading partner of Jerome Courtonne in the Chickasaw “Breed Camp.” Brown was much trusted by the British, and in 1756 Daniel Pepper recommended that he be granted a captain’s commission to lead one hundred men to assist the Chickasaws in their struggles against the French. Pepper considered him to be a “sober and carefull Man.”¹³⁵ Many biracial individuals served as interpreters, having learned their father’s language as children. In 1756, trader John Evans hired “one Halph Breed named Lewis Johns” to help him translate a letter from the governor of South Caro- lina to the Catawba.¹³⁶ Although Evans had long been involved in Indian af- Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 179 fairs and had a Catawba son, he chose to rely on Johns to back up his own linguistic ability. Biracial people also proved valuable informants, having the freedom to travel throughout the region and often enjoying access to informa- tion not available to interloping Englishmen. In 1756 the agent Daniel Pepper met with a mixed-blood man named Ceesar, who reported to him the sub- stance of a talk held between the governor of New Orleans and the Cherokee and Shawnee, thereby providing the British with critical intelligence.¹³⁷ People of mixed parentage might also serve as formal messengers, carrying letters or verbal communications between the two societies and perhaps inter- preting them as well. In 1757, the trader to the town of Tuckabatchee (Creek) Joseph Wright sent a letter to Pepper detailing the capture of two English men by the French at “the Otesies” in the Creek nation. In addition to the in- formation contained in the letter, Wright advised Pepper: “You may examine the Bearer who is the half bred Son of our Town, and he can tell you all.”¹³⁸ Some native nations deliberately chose biracial messengers in times of confl ict, counting on the British not to dispatch summarily the son of one of their own. In 1760, the British army under Colonel Montgomery, failing to achieve the satisfaction it had demanded for Cherokee hostilities, marched into the lower towns and destroyed several of them. Having demanded but not received a sur- render, Montgomery planned to continue farther into Cherokee country. He suspended his plan when a message arrived from Tistowee, a leading headman of the Overhills, carried by “half- breed Tom, with a white fl ag which put a stop to further proceedings.” Tistowee asked for more time to persuade his country- men to make peace. After the extended time had expired, “a half-breed Indian arrived express from fort Loudoun.” Th e upper people had chosen to pursue war instead and had captured the fort, he reported, but the middle and lower settlement desired peace.¹³⁹ Th e messengers sent by the Cherokee had the ad- vantage of being claimed by both cultures, allowing safe passage and a fl exibil- ity of movement not always available to others. Th e same tactic could work in reverse. In 1778, following news of the fall of Savannah to the British, George Galphin sent his own half-Creek son to meet a war party returning from an attack upon some British settlers on the Pensacola trail rather than meeting them himself, perhaps fearing that they meant him harm. “[T]he[y] Can not keep my Son Longe,” he concluded, for “if they tacke him his Relations wood Sone have him.” In the meantime, however, Galphin ordered his son “to Stay out there to Encourage our frinds.” While Galphin did not have the protection of matrilineal kin ties, his son did, making him an ideal agent.¹⁴⁰ 180 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage Th e position of biracial women is less clear. Some probably served as inter- preters, as did Mary Musgrove. Others maintained ties to their father’s culture by marrying traders. Ludovick Grant’s Cherokee daughter married another trader, William Emory. Trader Benjamin Durant married the one-quarter Creek daughter of Lachlan McGillivray and Sehoy Marchand (and sister of Alexander McGillivray).¹⁴¹ Biracial women made appealing wives for traders because they often already understood English and were acquainted with the Indian trade and with English customs. For women, marriage to their father’s countrymen ensured continued access to trade goods.¹⁴² Many other biracial women may have married full-blooded native men and disappeared back into Indian society, indistinguishable from their full- blooded sisters. Native peoples themselves sometimes recognized the dual heritage of bi- racial children, even while counting them (in keeping with matrilineal inheri- tance) as part of their own nation. Hostility toward Europeans might spill over and aff ect their children. As early as 1729, the Chickasaw chief Oulacta Tasca “drove a half- breed Englishman who is even his own nephew out of the nation, in spite of the fact that all the Indians tried to make him stay because he was a Chickasaw child.”¹⁴³ In this case, pressure from the French to drive out all Brit- ish traders and their off spring seems to have infl uenced Oulacta Tasca. In 1751, Governor Glen of South Carolina complained that the Cherokee had been mistreating their traders, stealing the goods of some and “stripping Others and their Children of their Cloaths on their Backs, fi ring at them with an Intention to kill them.”¹⁴⁴ Th ere is no telling why outraged natives chose to target these half- Cherokee children, except perhaps that they recognized that the British counted traders’ progeny as their own. Attacking traders (and their children) expressed Cherokee dissatisfaction with the state of the trade and perhaps with their British neighbors in general.¹⁴⁵ Th e kind of relationship that mixed-blood children developed with Euro- pean culture often depended both upon the status of their father and his treat- ment of them.¹⁴⁶ Traders who resided in the nations for long periods of time and established stable and aff ectionate unions with their Indian wives usually enjoyed loving relationships with their children. Th e longtime trader James Beamer was very close to his three Cherokee children. Beamer’s wife does not appear to have belonged to a high- status clan, and none of the children rose to positions of leadership. However, all three appear to have found their place in their society. Beamer’s daughter married a full- blooded Cherokee man. Ray- mond Demere noted that Beamer’s “Son- in-Law, a young Indian Warriour,” Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 181 was going to Virginia to join that colony in the war against France, an action of which Beamer strongly disapproved but could not prevent.¹⁴⁷ Little is known of the younger son, except that he existed. He does not appear to have worked either as a trader or interpreter. Th e eldest son, Th omas, had the closest rela- tionship with his father and with the British. He had a license from the South Carolina government to trade in “Tucosigie & Oustanaley” and often served as an interpreter and informant.¹⁴⁸ Th omas further provided information regard- ing the military plans and preparedness of the Cherokee. Th e Belfast Newslet- ter reported that the young man was “said to be an honest fellow, and the best friend the English have in the nation.”¹⁴⁹ Even aff ectionate British fathers were limited in what they could teach their children. Th omas Beamer had good language skills, doubtless learned from his father, James. But even though James often wrote letters to the governor and council, no letters from Th omas survive, and it is likely that he was illiterate. Th e son of another leading trader, Maximillian Moore, does not appear even to have spoken English, although he too was friendly to the British. In 1759, Max- imillian and his son Johnny set out from Hiwassee to scout the place where the French were reportedly building a fort. Johnny reconnoitered the area and then accompanied Maximillian to Charles Town to report his fi ndings to the gover- nor. James Bunion served as Johnny’s interpreter, indicating that he either did not speak English well or chose not to.¹⁵⁰ Th ere is some evidence that biracial children found themselves involved in the confl icts of their fathers’ nations, especially if those Europeans were at war with their mothers’ people’s traditional foes. Th is should not be surprising be- cause allies often both intermarried and shared the same enemies. Th e long- time trader Andrew Duche met a party of Nottoways at Keowee in 1748, in- cluding a young man whom he identifi ed as “a French half Breed.” Th is youth, upon learning that Duche could speak French, told Duche that he as an En- glishman was “good for nothing” because the English loved the Catawba and furnished them with weapons to kill the Nottoway. Both the infl uence of the young man’s French father and the signifi cant hostilities persisting between the Catawba and the Nottoway contributed to his hatred of the English.¹⁵¹ While master traders like James Beamer lived with their biracial children for decades, men more loosely tied to the trade often did not remain in the na- tions as long, establishing only temporary liaisons and probably abandoning any native children they had when they returned to the European settlements. Offi cials often blamed packhorsemen and other trade employees for causing 182 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage trouble in the Indian nations, cheating the men and chasing the women.¹⁵² Children whose fathers mistreated or abandoned their mothers probably had few ties to their paternal culture and little loyalty to it. Some biracial individu- als expressed great hostility toward the British or engaged in behaviors English- men found troublesome. Th e missionary William Richardson found biracial individuals to be the most diffi cult people to reach. While he was speaking to several young men of Tellico (Cherokee) about the writings of the apostle Paul, one of them asked him if he hadn’t just come to tell lies. He further threatened the Indian woman who interpreted for Richardson. Richardson noted that this “sawcy” “fellow was a white mans,” adding that such individuals were “in general worse than others & whom their Parents take care to instruct in the ways of Religion, to wc they are great strangers.”¹⁵³ Richardson unfortu- nately did not elaborate on what he meant by this remark. Th e “sawcy fellow’s” father himself may have been somewhat hostile to Christianity and may have conveyed his own skepticism of preachers to his son. Many traders were noto- rious for their rejection of British values, and colonial offi cials considered them to be the worst sort of people. Some traders no doubt chose to live in Indian country to escape what they considered the oppressive rules of their own soci- ety. Th at the young man’s father had attempted to teach him Christianity and he had rejected it is also possible. Whether he rejected his father as well or his father abandoned him is impossible to know. Some biracial people decided to use their familiarity with European ways against whites. In 1751, Edmond Gray complained, “Th e half-Breed Fellow who came down from the Cherokee Nation in Company with James Maxwell, did seduce 6 of my Negroes to run away from me into the Cherokees, from whence he promised to conduct them to some Place where they might depend on their Freedom.”¹⁵⁴ In this case, the mixed- blood man’s language skills proved detri- mental to the British, enabling him to convince Gray’s slaves to run away. Th is incident also had the potential to create a larger diplomatic incident, turning one man’s desire for personal gain into an international problem if the British decided to demand the return of the slaves from the Cherokee. Th e most confusing case involving a biracial individual was that of Andrew White. In 1751, White reportedly came to the trader Abraham Smith’s house at Keowee in the Cherokee nation and “in a bold, insolent Manner, ask’t Abra- ham Smith what he thought.” “I have killed a white Man,” he reported. “Do you think the Governor will be cross? He may if he will. I wish I could see an Army of Whites coming down that Hill. I would be the fi rst that would stick Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage 183 my All in their Heads.” Th e following year, however, when called upon to make satisfaction for this action, Skiagunsta of Keowee told a diff erent story regard- ing the incident. White, he insisted, never intended to harm the white man but accidentally killed him while pursuing war against the Creek. Afterward, Skiagunsta reported, White “came to consider what he had done to think that he had killed his Father as he calls white People he was troubled to his Heart to think he should strike a white Man through the Creeks’ doings.” “I account myself as much a white man as an Indian,” White reportedly told the headman. “My Father was a White Man and I respect all white Men on that Account.” Which account more accurately represents White’s true state of mind is un- certain. He may have killed a white man in anger, intending to force a war, and then later rethought his position when the governor aggressively demanded satisfaction. He might then have emphasized his biracial heritage to get him- self off the hook. Equally possible, Smith may have misunderstood White’s original statement. Or White may have been feeling Smith out to determine what the governor’s reaction would be. Th e governor, in the end, chose to be- lieve White’s expressions of remorse and did not pursue the matter.¹⁵⁵ Th e allegiances of biracial children and their roles in the multiparty dip- lomatic world of the Southeast could be complex and confusing to everyone involved. Ultimately, except for those who were raised in British society, the interests of their communities and families probably came fi rst. If the wel- fare of their tribes depended on forming alliances with their fathers’ enemies, some were willing to do so. In 1757, the Creek son of the British trader Samuel Brown joined the French, promising guns to the Cherokee if they would es- tablish a trading treaty with New Orleans.¹⁵⁶ Brown’s knowledge of the Brit- ish trade in the Creek nation was probably valuable to the French and his de- fection greatly regretted by the British, who deemed him a turncoat. However, Brown considered himself Creek, not British, and demonstrated his loyalty ac- cordingly. Th e nature of his relationship with his father is not known.¹⁵⁷ Clearly, biracial children were aware of their dual heritage and appear to have made use of it to further their own positions. Th e interests they pursued had repercussions for the societies of both parents. Diff ering factions within native communities favored diff erent European alliances and policies regard- ing trade and acculturation, and the choices that biracial individuals made helped shape the outcome of internal disputes.¹⁵⁸ For the British the matter was simpler; mixed-blood people were either friendly to their interests or they were troublemakers. Because of their language skills and cultural knowledge, 184 Politics and Domestics of Intermarriage biracial people were signifi cant beyond their numbers, regardless of where their loyalties lay. Although few in the early eighteenth century, by the early nineteenth century they made up an infl uential minority in most southeastern societies and would shape much of the response to white expansion after the American Revolution.

British husbands, Indian wives, and their children together embodied a partic- ular kind of family relationship that bound disparate societies together on the colonial frontier. Together with fi ctive kinship ties that proclaimed English- men and native headmen to be brothers, intermarriage and the off spring it pro- duced served to create a world in-between worlds that allowed people to relate to one another. Often literally brothers and sisters born of a native mother and a British father, biracial individuals became purveyors of intercultural com- munication, although their roles were complex and their alliances uncertain. Intermarriage off ered a point of meeting in which real relationships and rhet- oric most clearly overlapped. It became both a means of connecting cultures and the locus of dangerous misunderstandings (and sometimes abuses that were understood perfectly well). Th e diplomatic signifi cance of interracial mar- riage demonstrates the complexity of trying to fi nd a common ground based on both genuine and fi ctive kinship. Th e at-times dysfunctional families it pro- duced are in some ways emblematic of the problems accompanying eff orts at creating a common ground based on gendered and familial rhetoric on an un- stable frontier. Conclusion

n January 1782, the patriot governor of Georgia, John Martin, wrote a let- Iter to the Upper and Lower Creek headmen in hope of establishing peace between the new United States and that nation. He addressed his letter to his “Friends and Brothers” in the nation and asked them to listen to his words “for they are great truths and not lies.” He reminded them of “our great War- rior” General Washington’s victory over the British at Yorktown and informed them that the Patriot army had arrived in South Carolina and would soon re- take Georgia. He blamed the war on the British, who he claimed wished to en- slave the colonists. But the British had failed because “we wou’d not be their slaves, we had the spirit of men and warriors.” He proclaimed the greatness of the Patriot victory, asserting that British aggression had simply served to make “our men all warriors.” Th erefore, the Creeks should realize that they would no longer receive any support from the British and would be wise to estab- lish peace with the United States. He complained that some members of the Creek nation continued to come into the settlements and “murder our peace- able men, women and Children, & steal our horses, Cattle & negroes.” If the Creeks wanted peace, he asserted, they would have to return all prisoners and stolen goods and expel any Tories. If they did not, he continued, “we shall be obliged to send our warriors up to your towns (that have done the mischief ) and lay them in ashes, and make your women Widows, and children father- less.”¹ A few months later, Martin sent another “talk” reiterating the same ar- guments. He added, this time, that the Americans were much better friends to the Creeks than the British, because “[w]e never Called upon you to assist us in our wars, we never asked you to spill your blood in our Cause as the Brit- ish have done.” Instead, “we always desired you to remain at home quietly and Peaceably, and to mind your hunting & Support your women & Children In peace & happiness.” He warned them that the Americans could and would 186 Conclusion avenge wrongs and that they had not done so yet refl ected not fear but rather “the aff ection we have for your Wives & Children.” He therefore asked them to consider peace “for the safety of their own dear Wives & Children.”² Governor Martin’s two letters drew on several decades of diplomatic tra- dition in the Southeast, and the language he used typifi es many of the major rhetorical tropes that British offi cials and native headmen had created over the course of the colonial era. Th e Americans were the heirs to this already- developed system of diplomacy and would continue to use many of the forms for years to come. Martin still borrowed native rhetoric, insisting that male Americans were “men and warriors” and referring to American generals like Washington and Greene as “great warriors” (the term usually used for war lead- ers in many southeastern societies). He asserted American courage and mili- tary ability as a way to establish the credibility of the new nation and gain Creek support and alliance. He also drew on Anglo-American ideas about the protection and support of women and children, faulting the Creek for vio- lating the rules of “civilized” warfare by attacking women and children while at the same time asserting his own paternal care of Creek women and chil- dren. Th roughout his letters, he emphasized that the Americans considered the Creeks to be their brothers, although he left the language ambiguous re- garding the fi ctive parent from which this kinship derived. John Martin’s rhetoric and the diplomatic tradition it exemplifi ed were part of a larger process of intercultural interaction that arose out of European colo- nization of the Americas. In many ways the Southeast as a region was unique, and the development of a working set of diplomatic norms cannot be separated from the particular situations that allowed for its creation. However, the need to fi nd practical ways of managing European- Indian relations faced offi cials of all nations in many diff erent parts of the continent. Th e process as it evolved in the colonial Southeast suggests that the creation of functional means of cross- cultural exchange drew substantially on the values of all of the participating groups and involved both a considerable degree of compromise and deliberate eff orts to fi nd areas of cultural overlap. It was also, however, convoluted, incon- sistent, and ambiguous, fraught with misunderstandings and deliberate eff orts at manipulation. Diplomatic protocols developed over time and refl ected the relative power that each group possessed as well as the constantly shifting in- ternational landscape. More unstable than many other regions for a long pe- riod of time, the Southeast off ers a particularly rich site to investigate the crea- tion of a working international system of ceremony and metaphor. Th e Southeast as a region defi es eff orts to apply a single model of the “fron- Conclusion 187 tier.” In truth, there were probably as many diff erent kinds of frontiers in North America as there were European eff orts at colonization. Th ey might range from areas of rapid European conquest to areas in which European control was tenuous at best and native rules continued to dominate for long periods of time. A number of factors shaped the nature of frontier interactions, includ- ing the relative strength of the local Indian tribes, the degree of investment and determination exhibited by the colonizing European powers, the level of impe- rial competition in a region, geography (particularly the distance of the region from European centers of power or the ), the availability of ex- ploitable natural resources, and the individual and collective decisions of all the actors involved. Th e Southeast exemplifi es the signifi cance of several of these considerations. Closest to the areas of initial Spanish colonization, the South- east was the fi rst section of North America “discovered” by Europeans and has the longest history of European involvement. In spite of these early contacts, the Indian populations of this region retained their infl uence and indepen- dence longer than in any other region east of the Mississippi River. Th e lack of precious metals and a sedentary and easily exploitable native population led the Spanish to neglect the area, leaving the door open for later English and French eff orts. British ambitions remained only partially realized for a long period of time. Th e region, therefore, was the site of extremely complex, shifting power relations that defy easy generalization. Over the more than 250 years of Euro- pean colonization in the region, diff erent groups exerted diff ering degrees of control at various times. Because British dominance could not be fully assured for several decades after the beginning of British settlement in the region, the Southeast off ers the opportunity to observe how diplomatic relations devel- oped in a region that no one fully controlled and in which all sides had at least some ability to assert their own aims. Th e trilateral power struggle among Eu- ropean empires and the presence of substantial Indian populations prolonged this era of uncertainty and necessitated British accommodation. Th e result was the creation of uneven but mutually constructed systems of diplomacy. For these reasons, intercultural negotiation and the development of new multicultural diplomatic protocols can be traced over a long period that sug- gests the complex ways that diplomacy worked in a colonial context. Cultur- ally diff erent groups created a new international language that drew on several diff erent infl uences. Th is new rhetoric relied on perceived similarities that each side fi rst constructed and then manipulated for particular purposes. None of the participants seems to have fully understood what the others meant by cer- tain tropes, but these very misunderstandings could at times allow each group 188 Conclusion to see the relationships that were established in its own way. Because no one party had the ability to enforce its own vision of reality, this inconsistency often worked. Th e very ambiguity of the language rendered it fl exible, and it could be shaped to meet the needs of any given group at a given moment in time. On the other hand, misunderstandings or clashing goals often broke through even the most eff ective rhetoric, and fundamental diff erences in interests and cultural values regularly disrupted relations and exposed the inconsistency of diplomatic language. Some years ago, Kathleen M. Brown called upon scholars to investigate “gender frontiers” as a factor in European-Indian relations.³ Th e case of the Southeast demonstrates how deeply ideas of gender infl uenced both the daily practice and the formalized performance of diplomacy. Th e records themselves contain copious evidence of how salient the participants themselves consid- ered issues of masculinity and femininity. Gender frontiers open new vistas onto the ways in which diff ering cultural notions of gender produced misun- derstandings and negative evaluations of the other, but this should not ob- scure the ways in which areas of commonality and cultural overlap facilitated relationships.⁴ Gender, then, becomes not just a dividing line but also an ave- nue of exchange and an arena of interaction. Th is was a particularly permeable frontier, one in which diff erent cultures met, shared, and adapted. In the colo- nial Southeast, both British offi cials and Indian headmen elected to emphasize perceived commonalities to build structures that shaped the process of inter- cultural negotiations for decades. In practice, gender was a signifi cant factor in both European and native societies, shaping social organization and personal identity. Both observed a gendered division of labor (although this division was quite diff erent across cultures) and seem to have taken this gendered divi- sion of labor mostly for granted and considered it natural. Because gender was so important in the structure of both societies, and because there was at least some overlap (men in both societies were the warriors, diplomats, traders, and religious leaders, while women took primary responsibility for the home and the family), it seemed a logical building block for constructing diplomatic re- lations. Perceived commonalities themselves helped to structure the relation- ships that evolved over the years. A homosocial world of elite male diplomatic negotiation emerged, while joint male military engagements came to character- ize much of the interaction between the British and their native allies. Male- dominated trade relations drew on both Indian and English notions of mascu- linity, and traders learned to accommodate native gender roles. Th e presence of Conclusion 189 women could at times belie and certainly complicated this homosocial world, however. Women were deeply involved in areas often thought of as being ex- clusively masculine, such as war, diplomacy, and trade. Issues involving inter- marriage and the treatment of women during wartime fi gured prominently in diplomatic relationships. Furthermore, gender could be an emotionally volatile subject because it was so closely bound up with people’s identity, both personal and to some extent national. As a matter of performance, then, ideas about gender were easily manipulated for political purposes. Natives and Europeans collaboratively constructed a common language of insult and defense that had the power to build or destroy relationships. Perhaps even more important than the “gender frontier,” at least from an Indian perspective if not necessarily from a British one, was the emergence of a “family frontier.” Ideas of family and kinship were also fundamental structural components of European and native societies and consequently provided an area of overlap that each could draw on. Especially for native peoples, all rela- tionships were reckoned in terms of some kind of kinship relations, and this reality signifi cantly shaped the ways Indians approached diplomacy. British of- fi cials had to fi nd a way to work with Indian systems of fi ctive (and actual) kinship. Yet notions of family diff ered even more substantially than those re- lating to gender, making this particular arena of interaction slippery and com- plicated. Th e collision of English ideas of patriarchal household government and Indian matrilineal clan systems supplied ample room for misunderstand- ing. Unpacking the metaphors that each side used demonstrates the diff ering expectations that each brought to the table—the British desired the submis- sion of the Indians to a patriarchal king, while the natives envisioned exchange and generosity between brothers born of one mother—and also shows the importance that both placed on the construction of functional relationships, evidenced by the reliance on the emotionally signifi cant trope of family. Ulti- mately, the metaphors of kinship that came to characterize Anglo-Indian rela- tions proved to be some of the most enduring tropes to emerge from colonial diplomacy and were also among the most widespread, shaping relations up and down the eastern seaboard and well into the interior.⁵ Both real and meta- phorical kinship ties created relationships that endured, although as European power grew the relationship became more fraught and one- sided.

Th irty years after Martin sent his letters to the Creek nation, the rhetoric of brotherhood and friendship persisted, although the fundamental relationship 190 Conclusion underlying it had changed dramatically. In February of 1816, Andrew Jackson wrote to the Chickasaw chief George Colbert, warning the Chickasaws not to interfere with the eff orts of General John Coff ee to survey the boundary line of the recent Creek land cession. Jackson addressed Colbert as “Friend and Brother,” but his tone was peremptory and harsh. “[Y]ou will notify your people that the line will be run,” he informed Colbert, “& if they attempt to op- pose it or insult Genl. Coff ee or his guard, your people will bring down imme- diate punishment upon them.” He maintained that their “father the President” was only interested in taking Creek land, but he also insisted that the disputed territory had indeed belonged to the Creek and not the Chickasaw. Creek land was justly forfeit to the United States because “Creek Warriors committed every kind of rapine & murder on our women & children.” If the Chickasaw wished to claim the territory around Cold Water, Jackson added, they would fi rst need to “account why they suff ered our enemies to occupy their ground whilst they were killing our Citizens & stealing our property.” He gave Colbert this warning, Jackson concluded, “as a friend & brother . . . to save you from in- volving yourselves in trouble.”⁶ Jackson’s letter reveals a certain number of continuities from the colonial period but also some of the vast changes that had reshaped the Southeast in the years since the American Revolution. He continued to use the kinship rhetoric that had characterized diplomacy for nearly one hundred years, ad- dressing Colbert as his brother. Jackson consistently turned to this terminol- ogy because it was still useful. It proclaimed friendship between Indians and Anglo-Americans in ways that both sides found meaningful and that refl ected the long history of relations between Anglo- Americans and American Indians. Although the recent defeat of the “Red Stick” Creek represented one of the fi nal instances of native resistance in the region and clearly showed Anglo- American ascendancy, Indian people still possessed enough power to delay re- moval another twenty years, and continued diplomatic eff orts were necessary. At the same time, however, Jackson’s letter also revealed how much the balance of power had changed and how kinship metaphors had changed with it. Th e Chickasaws and their neighbors had lost the ability to force concessions from Anglo-American offi cials. Unlike British and American offi cials in the years from the 1750s to the 1780s, Jackson had no need to recognize native patterns of matrilineal inheritance. Instead, his metaphor installing the president as the father of the Indian nations represented the patriarchal relationship that the British had long wished for but had been unable to establish. Jackson expected Conclusion 191 obedience from the president’s Chickasaw “children,” and he knew that they had little alternative but to supply it. Indians had come to occupy the position of very junior brothers, brothers whom Anglo- Americans considered illegiti- mate at best. Twenty years after Jackson’s letter, these younger brothers would be kicked out of the family entirely with Removal. His audience, too, had changed. George Colbert was in many ways repre- sentative of a new Indian leadership. He was biracial, the son of a Scots trader father and a Chickasaw mother. Signifi cantly acculturated, he owned a large plantation and numerous slaves and had adapted to Anglo-American eco- nomic practices. He observed patrilineal inheritance and ordered his family along patriarchal lines. Th e older matrilineal notions of kinship that had once animated the rhetoric of his ancestors no longer had much salience for him.⁷ Acculturated elites like Colbert had diff erent notions of masculinity than their forefathers, based less on military accomplishment and more on private prop- erty.⁸ Further, Colbert represented a newly nationalized Chickasaw govern- ment that was far more unifi ed and coercive than what the British had faced. Jackson could expect that Colbert would fi nd a way to compel the obedience of young Chickasaw men.⁹ Jackson’s letter demonstrates the enduring signifi cance of ideas of gen- der and family in the early republic. And yet the parental model employed in this missive also makes clear how much the diplomatic situation had changed. Jackson’s rhetoric highlights the shift in the balance of power in ways that are impossible to ignore. No longer were native leaders and American offi cials brothers born of the same mother. Th e patriarchal metaphor, and all that it represented, had gained ascendancy. Indian leaders were now children of an American father (fi guratively and sometimes literally) and would have to adapt to a new family order and a new gender system. Gender and kinship would continue to shape the world of Indian diplomacy, but in new ways that empha- sized the victory of patriarchy and of Anglo- American society.

Appendix Th e Southeast circa 1715. (All maps by Bill Nelson) Th e Southeast in the 1740s Th e Southeast on the eve of the American Revolution Cherokee settlements, mid- eighteenth century Creek settlements, mid- eighteenth century Notes

Abbreviations BPRO-SC Alexander S. Salley and William L. McDowell Jr., eds., Records in the British Public Record Offi ce Relating to South Carolina, 36 vols. CHJ Commons House Journals, John S. Green transcriptions, South Carolina De- partment of Archives and History, Columbia, 6 vols. CRG Allen D. Candler et al., eds., Th e Colonial Records of the State of Georgia, 32 vols. CRNC William L. Saunders, Walter Clark, and Stephen Weeks, eds., Th e Colonial and State Records of North Carolina, 30 vols. CRNCSS Mattie Erma Edward Parker, William S. Price Jr., and Robert Cain Jr., eds., Th e Colonial Records of North Carolina, 2nd ser., 8 vols. DRIA William L. McDowell, ed., Th e Colonial Records of South Carolina: Documents Re- lating to Indian Aff airs, 2 vols. JCHA Alexander S. Salley, ed., Journals of the Commons House of Assembly [1692–1734] JCIT William L. McDowell, ed., Th e Colonial Records of South Carolina: Journals of the Commissioners of the Indian Trade, September 20, 1710– August 29, 1718 JGCGT Journal of the Grand Council, John S. Green transcription, vol. 1 (August 25, 1671– July 11, 1721), South Carolina Department of Archives and History, Columbia JGCSC Alexander S. Salley, ed., Journal of the Grand Council of South Carolina, 2 vols. MPAED Dunbar Rowland and A. G. Sanders, eds., Mississippi Provincial Archives: English Dominion MPAFD Dunbar Rowland, A. G. Sanders, and Patricia Galloway, eds., Mississippi Provin- cial Archives: French Dominion, 5 vols. SCCJ South Carolina Council Journals, South Carolina Department of Archives and History, Columbia SCCJ- UH South Carolina Council Journals, Upper House, South Carolina Department of Archives and History, Columbia SCJCHA J. H. Easterby et al., eds., Th e Colonial Records of South Carolina: Th e Journal of the Commons House of Assembly, 14 vols. SCMR Miscellaneous Records, South Carolina Department of Archives and History, Columbia 200 Notes to Pages 1–4

Introduction 1. Minutes, April 12, 1715, in JCIT, 65. William Ramsey suggests that this messenger was probably a Euhaw Indian and former slave named Cuff y. Ramsey has also speculated that Cuff y brought the warning because Bray’s wife and her sisters were Yamasee. Th is idea is in- triguing but impossible to prove (or disprove) with the existing records, and so I have chosen to treat her as British. Ramsey, Yama see War, 46– 50, esp. 46. Wayne E. Lee has discussed what he called the “‘cutting off ’ style of warfare,” which he de- fi nes as “off ensive warfare” with the intent to “‘cut off ’ a select segment of the enemy, and do so with impunity.” Lee, “Fortify, Fight, or Flee,” esp. 718– 24, quote from 718– 19. 2. Oatis, Colonial Complex, 124– 26. 3. Letter of Capt. Jonathan St. Lo to Burchett and Enclosure, July 12, 1715, reproduced in Ramsey, Yama see War, 228, insertions in Ramsey. 4. Oatis, Colonial Complex, 126. 5. Ibid. 6. Minutes, May 7, 1715, in CHJ, 4:392. 7. Oatis, Colonial Complex, 178. 8. Representation and Petition of the Commons House of Assembly to the King, Janu- ary 30, 1748, in SCJCHA ( January 19, 1748–June 29, 1748), 45. For a similar example, see Peti- tion and Remonstrance of Sessions of Peace Oyer and Terminer, [November 1743], in SCCJ, 10:404–6. 9. Patrick Mackay to James Oglethorpe, March 29, 1735, in CRG, 20:295–96. Cherekeileigie declared that he had proven himself a man by fi ghting with the South Carolinians against the Tuscarora. However, his boasts to have done great damage to the English are in much the same vein and reveal the same concern with demonstrating manhood and military prowess. 10. On the Yamasee War, see Crane, Southern Frontier, 162– 86; Gallay, Indian Slave Trade, 315– 44; Hahn, Invention of the Creek Nation, 81– 120; Hall, Zamumo’s Gifts, 117– 44; Oatis, Co- lonial Complex; Ramsey, Yama see War ; Schrager, “Yamasee Indians.” 11. Kathleen M. Brown has suggested the concept of “gender frontiers” to allow scholars to “assess how challenges posed to ‘natural’ categories of gender shaped colonial encounters.” Gender frontiers involve “confrontations of diff erent gender systems, including the gendered patterns of colonial domination,” in which “cultural diff erences in gender divisions of labor, sexual practices, and other signifi ers of gender identity . . . signifi cantly infl uenced how Euro- pean and indigenous peoples perceived each other.” Brown, “Brave New Worlds,” 318. See also Brown, “Anglo-Algonquian Gender Frontier.” While I am to some extent borrowing the idea that the British and Indians used diff ering gender roles in defi ning the “other,” I pay even more attention to those areas in which the cultures overlapped. British and Indian leaders observed certain commonalities in their gendered divisions of labor, and they used these perceived sim- ilarities to construct a set of diplomatic, military, and trade forms based in gendered rhetoric and shared practices. 12. Literary scholarship has, through the deconstruction of the language of texts, produced insights on the usefulness of rhetoric recorded by European observers, as well as of the ve- racity of European-produced sources in general. For works that apply this method to studies Notes to Pages 4–6 201 of Indian history in other regions with very fruitful results, see Lepore, Name of War; Mer- rell, “I Desire All Th at I Have Said”; Merritt, “Metaphor, Meaning, and Misunderstanding”; Murray, Forked Tongues; Pratt, Imperial Eyes; Todorov, Conquest of America. Although Murray and Todorov conclude that travel accounts are so biased that they have little value for helping scholars understand Indian populations, I reject this more extreme interpretation in favor of James Merrell’s views. 13. Although work on native women has grown by leaps and bounds in the last three de- cades, scholarship on the role of gender as a factor in intercultural interactions is still relatively new. For recent studies that investigate gender in other cross- cultural contexts, see Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman; Brown, “Anglo-Algonquian Gender Frontier,” and Good Wives; Danvers, “Gendered Encounters”; Little, Abraham in Arms; Merritt, “Cultural Encounters along a Gender Frontier”; Shoemaker, “An Alliance between Men,” and Strange Likeness. 14. On the concept of multiple defi nitions of manhood, see Connell, Masculinities. On the diversity of expressions of manhood in England, see Foyster, Manhood in Early Modern En- gland; Hitchcock and Cohen, English Masculinities. On diversity in sexual mores in the colo- nies, see Godbeer, Sexual Revolution in Early America; Lyons, Sex among the Rabble. On diver- sity in women’s experience in the colonies, see, for example, Clinton and Gillespie, Devil’s Lane; Morgan, Laboring Women; Wulf, Not All Wives. 15. Most notable in this context is the acceptance of “two- spirit” people in many Indian cultures. Two-spirit individuals, called “berdache” by the Spanish, were usually biological men who dressed and lived as women. In other cases, biological women also took on male roles. Th e Cherokee war woman provides the most concrete example of this. For a discussion of the war woman, see chapter 3. English records from the Southeast provide very little evidence of two- spirit people among the tribes there; of all the chroniclers, only Bernard Romans noted their presence. He reported that “[s]odomy is also practiced . . . and the Cinaedi among the Chac- taws are obliged to dress themselves in women’s attire, and are highly despised especially by the women.” Romans, Natural History, 82– 83. Earlier records left by French explorers in Florida in the sixteenth century provide more information but still leave many questions unanswered. On two-spirit people throughout the present-day United States, see Foster, Long before Stone- wall; Hauser, “Th e Berdache and the Illinois”; Jacobs, Th omas, and Lang, Tw o -S p i r i t P e o p l e ; Roscoe, Changing Ones; Trexler, Sex and Conquest; Williams, Spirit and the Flesh. 16. On the importance of considering multiple systems of distinction and of questioning the application of a strict male-female binary, see Boydston, “Gender as a Question of Histori- cal Analysis.” See also Fowler, Wives and Husbands. 17. Shammas, History of Household Government. 18. Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman, 10; O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 57. 19. I defi ne the “colonial” period from the perspective of Anglo-American settlers, for whom colonial rule ended with formal independence in 1783. For native peoples, of course, coloniza- tion did not end with American independence but continued under the new American gov- ernment. 20. On Virginia Indians, see Rountree, Pocahontas’s People, and Powhatan Foreign Relations; Rountree and Turner, Before and after Jamestown; and Rountree and Davidson, Eastern Shore 202 Notes to Pages 6–7

Indians. On King Philip’s War, see Lepore, Name of War; Drake, King Philip’s War. On the survival of many Indian groups after the war and their adaptation to tributary status, see Cal- loway, After King Philip’s War; Kawashima, Puritan Justice and the Indian; Mandell, Behind the Frontier; O’Brien, Dispossession by Degrees; Silverman, Faith and Boundaries. 21. Th e use of the term tribe is problematic. While Europeans often identifi ed related Indian towns as coherent political units, these communities were often largely independent and recognized only loose cultural and kinship ties or alliances. Southeastern groups did not coalesce into “nations” or confederacies until well into the eighteenth century and did not adopt national governments until the nineteenth century, largely as the result of pressures from European contact. Th roughout the colonial period, localism and diversity continued to characterize southeastern “tribes.” See Boulware, “Eff ect of the Seven Years’ War on the Cher- okee Nation”; Champagne, Social Order and Political Change; Galloway, “So Many Little Re- publics”; Hahn, Invention of the Creek Nation; Merrell, Indians’ New World; Piker, “ ‘White and Clean’ and Contested,” and Okfuskee. 22. Th e phenomenon of clashing “laws of nations” will be discussed at greater length in chapter 3. Th e two leading sources on the European Law of Nations can be found in Vattel, Law of Nations; Grotius, Rights of War and Peace. See also Pagden, Lords of All the World; Wil- liams, American Indian in Western Legal Th ought. 23. Many studies of gender relations among southeastern Indians devote less time to the colonial than to the early national period. Th e British era is often treated as a baseline to trace later alterations in Indian gender systems. Masculinity studies in particular focus on the post- Revolutionary period. Excellent recent work by Greg O’Brien, Claudio Saunt, and James Tay- lor Carson, although beginning in the eighteenth century and using it as a starting point, em- phasizes alterations in masculinity resulting from the adoption of Anglo- American political systems and the shift to livestock raising and capitalism. See O’Brien, “Trying to Look like Men”; Saunt, “Domestick . . . Quiet Being Broke”; Carson, “Native Americans, the Market Revolution, and Culture Change,” and Searching for the Bright Path. For work that concentrates on the pre- Revolutionary period, see Hatley, Dividing Paths; Sheidley, “Hunting and the Poli- tics of Masculinity.” Nancy Shoemaker provides an intriguing look at manhood and gendered metaphor in diplomacy during the colonial period but for a broader geographic region. Shoe- maker, “An Alliance between Men.” Further, these studies emphasize internal codes of masculinity within Indian societies rather than the diplomatic work that ideas of masculinity performed in cross-cultural rela- tions, which is the focus of this book. Scholars working on other regions have begun to inves- tigate how notions of masculinity shaped European- native interactions, although more work remains to be done. See Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman; Brown, “Anglo- Algonquian Gender Frontier,” and Good Wives; Little, Abraham in Arms; Romero, “ ‘Ranging Foresters’ and ‘Women- Like Men’ ”; and Shoemaker, “An Alliance between Men,” and Strange Likeness. Although the same imbalance noted above can be found in women’s histories, more schol- ars have investigated the colonial period. See Braund, “Guardians of Tradition and Hand- maidens to Change”; Pesantubbee, Choctaw Women; Perdue, Cherokee Women. Both Braund’s and Perdue’s work extends well beyond the colonial period. 24. In the pays d’en haut, Richard White argues, an extended period of relatively equal Notes to Pages 8–11 203 power relations forced accommodation on the part of both the French and native peoples. White, Middle Ground. For a critique of White’s theory, see the forum on White’s book in the January 2006 issue of the William and Mary Quarterly. Th e Southeast diff ered from the pays d’en haut in many signifi cant ways. Th e English population grew much more quickly and was involved in settlement and not just trade. Th erefore, the era characterized by an equal balance of power that defi ned the pays d’en haut did not persist nearly as long in the Southeast. Th e balance of power was much more confusing and ambiguous, resulting in the creation of some- what diff erent diplomatic norms. Kathleen DuVal has argued that the Arkansas River valley constituted a “native ground” during the colonial period. Weak Spanish and French colonists could not dominate, and Indian rules shaped relations in the region into the early nineteenth century. Although some more distant areas of the Southeast approximated this situation in the early years, the more extensive English deerskin and slave trade began producing dependency much earlier than in Arkansas. DuVal, Native Ground. Juliana Barr has demonstrated that the Spanish were un- able to exert much control outside of their immediate mission-presidio complexes in Texas, and Indians dominated in the region well into the nineteenth century. Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman, and “How Do You Get from Jamestown to Santa Fe?” 25. Linda Colley has questioned assumptions of English dominance in many of its coloniz- ing ventures before the nineteenth century. Colley, Captives. For a recent assessment of the his- toriography of southeastern Indians, much of which also argues that the English and Anglo- Americans were not able to achieve dominance until the late eighteenth century, see Hatfi eld, “Colonial Southeastern Indian History.” 26. On the early history of South Carolina Indian relations, see Bowne, Westo Indians; Crane, Southern Frontier; Feeley, “Tuscarora Trails”; Gallay, Indian Slave Trade; Hahn, Inven- tion of the Creek Nation; Oatis, Colonial Complex; Ramsey, Yama see War ; Schrager, “Yamasee Indians.” 27. For an introduction to Spanish Florida, see Hoff man, Florida’s Frontiers; Weber, Span- ish Frontier. On French- Indian relations in colonial Louisiana, see Usner, Indians, Settlers, and Slaves, and American Indians in the Lower Mississippi Valley; Woods, French-Indian Relations on the Southern Frontier. 28. On the Cherokee War, see Anderson, Crucible of War; Corkran, Cherokee Frontier; Hatley, Dividing Paths; Oliphant, Peace and War on the Anglo-Cherokee Frontier. For relations between the Spanish in Louisiana and individual tribes, see Atkinson, Splendid Land, Splen- did People; Calloway, American Revolution in Indian Country; DuVal, Native Ground; Saunt, New Order of Th ings. 29. On similarities between British and Indian societies, see Shoemaker, Strange Likeness, and “An Alliance between Men.” 30. Bennett, History Matters, 54– 81, esp. 62. 31. Brown, Good Wives; Fischer, Suspect Relations. 32. Frontier, borderlands, and backcountry are loaded words and have been the source of spirited scholarly debate. Th ere is currently no generally agreed-upon term to refer to areas contested between Europeans and Indians. I use the term frontier to refer to those regions that lay between major white and native settlements and that provided the arena for interaction 204 Notes to Pages 11–16 between the multiple societies seeking to control the continent. I use the term backcountry to designate the more advanced of the British settlements, especially when I am speaking from a British perspective. For debates on the concepts of frontiers and borderlands, see Adelman and Aron, “From Borderlands to Borders.” See also the Forum in American Historical Re- view 104, no. 4 (October 1999): 1222–39. For critiques of the Turner Th esis, two short col- lections aimed at students can be particularly helpful: Etulain, Does the Frontier Experience Make America Exceptional?; Taylor, Turner Th esis. For analysis of the borderlands concept, see Usner, “Borderlands”; Weber, “Turner, the Boltonians, and the Borderlands.” 33. Before the 1980s, many studies of American Indians had portrayed Indian women as oppressed and assumed the universal subordination of women. In the 1980s and early 1990s, historians and anthropologists revised this picture, arguing instead that Indian societies had egalitarian gender relations that were disrupted and ultimately overturned during coloniza- tion through the imposition of European patriarchal ideals and the development of capital- ism. For reviews of the historiography relating to Native American women, see Etienne and Leacock, introduction to Women and Colonization; Shoemaker, introduction to Negotiators of Change; Klein and Ackerman, introduction to Women and Power. For works that argue that women lost power and status after contact, see Albers and Medicine, Hidden Half; Anderson, Chain Her by One Foot; Devens, “Separate Confrontations”; Fiske, “Colonization and the De- cline of Women’s Status”; Perry, “Fur Trade and the Status of Women”; Pesantubbee, Choc- taw Women. More recent studies have convincingly critiqued this narrative of declension. Brown, “Brave New Worlds”; Foster, “Of Baggage and Bondage”; Shoemaker, introduction to Negotiators of Change; Klein and Ackerman, introduction to Women and Power. Several more recent works on the Southeast depart from the declension narrative, arguing that traditional gender roles, far from being displaced, persisted throughout much of the co- lonial period, and I am building upon this scholarship. See Braund, “Guardians of Tradition and Handmaidens to Change”; Carson, “From Corn Mothers to Cotton Spinners”; Kidwell, “Choctaw Women and Cultural Persistence in Mississippi”; Hatley, “Cherokee Women Farm- ers Hold Th eir Ground.” 34. Hahn, Invention of the Creek Nation, 103– 6, quote from 105.

1. A “Friend” and a “Brother” 1. On the use of fraternal metaphors, see Shoemaker, “An Alliance between Men,” and A Strange Likeness, 105– 24. 2. Richard White introduced the concept of creative misunderstandings. “On the middle ground,” he writes, “diverse peoples adjust their diff erences through what amounts to a pro- cess of creative, and often expedient, misunderstandings. People try to persuade others who are diff erent from themselves by appealing to what they perceive to be the values and prac- tices of those others. Th ey often misinterpret and distort both the values and the practices of those they deal with, but from these misunderstandings arise new meanings and through them new practices—the shared meanings and practices of the middle ground.” White, Middle Ground, x. 3. Treaty talks and offi cial letters written by British agents provide the best source for re- creating the structure and content of Indian speeches and for capturing the kinds of meta- Notes to Pages 16–18 205 phors, expressions, and narrative tropes Indians used. Treaty talks need to be used with great care, however. Th e records are only as good as the ability of the clerk or other writer to record accurately what he heard, as well as the ability of the translator who served as the go- between. Furthermore, offi cials often used descriptions of events relating to Indian aff airs to justify pol- icy decisions, to request aid, or to defend their actions in specifi c instances. On the other hand, Englishmen considered Indian speeches important enough to write down, even if they could not always render them with undisputed accuracy. Most clerks made a conscientious eff ort to convey the main points of native speeches, attempting to keep accurate records for future ref- erence. Governors and other colonial offi cials did their best to hire reliable interpreters for im- portant conferences, or “talks,” as they were called. Treaty talks in particular were transcribed in great detail, indicating the importance of diplomacy as well as some genuine interest in Indian opinions and means of expression. Accordingly, records of these talks provide the clear- est sense of Indian use of gendered rhetoric and kinship and family metaphors. On the use of treaty talks as sources, see Merrell, “I Desire All Th at I Have Said,” 819. 4. Colonel George Chicken and Captain Tobias Fitch wrote detailed journals of their meetings with the Cherokee and Creek Indians in those nations, providing some of the fi rst glimpses found in English records of the development of diplomatic rhetoric. Chicken, “Jour- nal.” See also papers relating to Chicken’s and Fitch’s missions in SCCJ, 3:45– 71, 117– 38, 141– 59. Council records unfortunately are brief for the 1720s and 1730s, emphasizing concluded agreements and gifts sent, while neglecting to record ceremony or speeches. 5. Th e records relating to South Carolina diplomatic meetings are unfortunately only par- tial. Beginning around 1742 (when they are fi rst mentioned in the council records), clerks began keeping a separate set of “Indian Books,” but the books prior to 1750 have been lost. For the existence of earlier Indian Books, see Minutes, April 27, 1742, SCCJ, 8:18. 6. Sandford, “Relation,” 90–92. J. C. Milling identifi ed “Shadoo” as an Edisto village. Mill- ing, Red Carolinians, 43. 7. On the lack of distinction in clothing or other material signs, see Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 32–33, 64–65; Bartram, Observations, 23– 24. On seating in town houses, see Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 33; Adair, History, 453; Bartram, Travels, 200. On the use of Adair’s His- tory as an ethnohistorical source, see Hudson, “James Adair as Anthropologist.” 8. Lawson, New Voyage, 37. Lawson also noted that the Indians gave visitors an honored position and that “they plac’d our Englishmen near the King” (37–38), thus including diplomats in the recognized hierarchy. 9. Th omas Causton to wife, March 12, 1732/ 33, in CRG, 20:16– 17. 10. Greg O’Brien notes that Choctaw women at the Hopewell Treaty negotiations par- ticipated in welcoming the American commissioners. While the Americans believed that the women approached them according to the rank of their husbands, O’Brien suggests that the reverse in fact was possible. In any event, women’s rank was also clearly marked in this cere- mony. O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 61. 11. Lederer, Discoveries, 26. 12. Lawson, New Voyage, 36. 13. Greg O’Brien notes that the Choctaw gave the title of “beloved” to gifted speakers, and they associated exceptional speaking ability with command over spiritual forces. Respected speakers were usually also accomplished warriors. O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 32. 206 Notes to Pages 19–21

14. Lederer, Discoveries, 14. 15. A notable exception was Mary Musgrove, a biracial woman who served as an agent and translator for Georgia. On Musgrove, see Baine, “Myths of Mary Musgrove”; Coulter, “Mary Musgrove, ‘Queen of the Creeks’ ”; Fisher, “Mary Musgrove: Creek Englishwoman”; Gillespie, “Th e Sexual Politics of Race and Gender”; Morris, “Th e Peculiar Case of Mary Musgrove,” and “Emerging Gender Roles for Southeastern Indian Women”; Todd, Mary Musgrove. 16. Gun Merchant’s talk to Governor Glen, January 13, 1756, SCCJ, 25:49. In 1751, Skia- gunsta of Keowee off ered a similar analysis: “I perceive you advise with your beloved Men. We do so too, when we enquire into any Matters that happen relating to us.” Talk of Cherokee to Governor Glen, November 15, 1751, in DRIA, 1:179. 17. Lawson, New Voyage, 29. 18. Ibid., 36. 19. Ibid., 36– 40. 20. Romans, Natural History, 92. 21. Hilton, “Relation of a Discovery,” 51. It is unknown whether the women expected to ac- company the traveling party or what kind of relationship they hoped to have with the white men. Hilton did not indicate his reasons for assuming that the women were the daughters of the chief (although he identifi ed clear markers of prestige in their appearance and treatment by their countrymen) or what the off er of their companionship meant in light of their status. 22. Fischer, Suspect Relations, 70– 74. 23. Oberg, Head in Edward Nugent’s Hand, 44, 46. Evidence from further north suggests that the presence of women was important for seventeenth- century statecraft in Virginia as well. Around the tender age of eleven, Pocahontas visited Jamestown to seek the release of prisoners and bring gifts. Camilla Townsend notes that Opechancanough and other wero- wances also sent daughters as emissaries. Townsend, Pocahontas and the Powhatan Dilemma, 69–71. When the English at Jamestown fi rst met Powhatan, he had a wife seated on either side of him in the town house, although the role the women played is unclear. Rountree, Pocahon- tas, Powhatan, Opechancanough, 19. 24. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 51. 25. Deed from Cusabo Indians to the Proprietors, December 20, 1675, in Records of the Register and Secretary of the Province, 1675– 95, 1703– 9, vol. 2, Conveyances (G in Greene index), South Carolina Department of Archives and History, 10. On the Cusabo, see Swan- ton, Indians of the Southeastern United States, 124– 26, 128– 29. Milling counts fourteen women’s signatures, while Gene Waddell counts eleven. Milling, Red Carolinians, 59; Waddell, Indians of the South Carolina Lowcountry, 262– 64. 26. Conveyance, Queen of Edisto to Proprietors, 1683, in Records of the Register of the Province, Conveyance Book A: 103–4; Conveyance, Queen of St. Helena to Proprietors, 1684, in ibid., 135. See also Proprietors to James Colleton etc., November 2, 1686, in BPRO-SC, 2:170– 71. Gene Waddell identifi es a third female chief, the queen of Ashepoo (1671– 72), and includes a number of translated excerpts of Spanish documents mentioning her. Waddell, Indians of the South Carolina Lowcountry, 59– 60, 86– 91. Milling identifi es all three nations— the Edisto, St. Helena, and the Ashepoo—as Cusabo. Milling, Red Carolinians, 35. See also Swanton, Indians of the Southeastern United States, 128– 29. Notes to Pages 21–25 207

27. John Worth has argued that by the early eighteenth century, chiefl y succession had lost the hereditary character that it had possessed in the Mississippian period, coming to rest more on achieved status than previously. Th is evolution tended to preclude the succession of female or juvenile chiefs (who may have presided earlier). Worth, “Spanish Missions and the Persis- tence of Chiefl y Power.” 28. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 64. 29. Bartram went so far as to surmise that “it is death for a female to presume to enter the door, or approach within its pale,” although he doesn’t seem to have had any evidence to sup- port this assertion. He also suggested that women and children seldom entered the public square. Bartram, Travels, 357– 62, quote from 357. 30. Timberlake, Memoirs, 93. Richard A. Sattler has demonstrated that Cherokee women had much more infl uence in village government than did Creek women. Sattler, “Women’s Status among the Muskogee and Cherokee.” 31. Waddell, Indians of the South Carolina Lowcountry, 75. 32. Andrew Jackson Papers, quoted in Alderman, Nancy Ward: Cherokee Chieftainess, 80. On Nancy Ward, see Foreman, Indian Women Chiefs; McClary, “Nancy Ward: Th e Last Be- loved Woman of the Cherokees”; Morris, Bringing of Wonder, 53– 61; Perdue, Cherokee Women, 86– 87; Tucker, “Nancy Ward: Ghighau of the Cherokees.” 33. Rountree, Pocahontas’s People, 100– 103. 34. Pryce Hughes to the Duchess of Ormond (to be delivered to the queen), [October] 15, 1713, Letters of Pryce Hughes, South Caroliniana Library. 35. Minutes, September 11, 1717, in JGCGT, 1:121– 22. 36. Minutes, July 11, 1721, in JGCGT, 1:134. 37. Talk of Gun Merchant to Governor Lyttelton, January 13, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:48–53, quote from 49; Talk of Governor Lyttelton to Gun Merchant, January 19, 1756, in ibid., 25:67– 72, quote from 69; Minutes, January 23, 1756, in ibid., 25:78– 83, quote from 80. 38. I use the term patriarchy here to refer to the father-headed nuclear family of the seven- teenth and eighteenth centuries. I also extend the use of this term to what Gordon Schochet terms “patriarchalism,” or the application of patriarchal notions and metaphors to monarchical governments. I do not use the term to refer to male dominance in general. On the patriarchal family, see Shammas, History of Household Government. On the use of patriarchal ideology in relation to government, see Fliegelman, Prodigals and Pilgrims, 4; Schochet, Patriarchalism in Political Th ought; Isaac, “Communication and Control.” 39. O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 57. 40. Chicken, “Journal,” 169. 41. Ibid., 127. 42. Early on, the English were more likely to use the terminology of friendship rather than brotherhood. See Talk agreed to be given to “Indians,” June 5, 1724, in JCHA ( June 2, 1724– June 16, 1724), 12– 13; Fitch, “Journal,” 177. 43. Chicken, “Journal,” 129. 44. Swanton, “Early Account,” 55. Unfortunately, the identity of this early observer and the date he recorded his observations are not known. 45. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 63. 208 Notes to Pages 25–28

46. Governor Glen to the Duke of New Castle, May 22, 1745, in SCCJ, 14:262– 75, quote from 264. 47. Talk of Kanagatoga of Chote to Governor Glen, April 29, 1752, in DRIA, 1:258. Oc- casionally, a native leader might refer to the English as younger, but such instances were rare. In 1751, Skiagunsta, the Warrior of Keowee, visited Governor James Glen in Charles Town and gave a speech recalling that “in the Talk of the Great King George [in 1731] he told us that Carolina was our younger Brother and that we should join Hands and that never should there be any Breach between us.” Skiagunsta’s reasons for adopting this position are unclear. He did express concern that the English were planning to raise trading prices, but otherwise he didn’t seem to be asserting an authoritative position. Talk of Governor Glen to Cherokee, Novem- ber 26, 1751, in DRIA, 1:193. 48. Greg O’Brien argues that designations of elder and younger were both expressions of politeness intended to incorporate outsiders and a recognition of spiritual power: “Th e fact that groups that were nonlocal in origin asserted seniority may derive from beliefs that distant locales and peoples, particularly those descended from paramount Mississippian chiefdoms, possessed inherent power.” O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 17– 18. 49. Galloway, “Th e Chief Who Is Your Father,” 345. On marriage and kinship in a matri- lineal society, see Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 185– 202; Perdue, Cherokee Women, 41– 48. 50. Cuming, “Account of the Cherrokee Indians,” 14– 17. 51. Th omas Johnson to Governor Johnson and Council, August 16, 1732, in SCCJ, 5:203– 5. See also Minutes, June 10, 1743, SCCJ, 10:236. 52. Meeting with Cherokees at Ninetysix, [1755], copy dated June 18, 1761, in James Glen Papers, South Caroliniana Library. Natives might also adopt the metaphor to give thanks. In 1739, General James Oglethorpe of Georgia, hearing of the recent smallpox epidemic that had swept through the Cherokee nation, sent them fi fteen thousand bushels of corn. “Upon my acquainting the Chiefs of my having done this before they asked it,” Oglethorpe reported to the Trustees, “they said, that the Trustees treated them as Fathers do their Children, they did not give them Toys or unwholesome liquor, but gave them Wisdom & Justice, and supplied their Wants when Misfortunes came upon them.” James Oglethorpe to Accountant, Octo- ber 19, 1739, in CRG, 22(2):247– 48. 53. Second Talk, given by Mortar to Governor Wright, May 8, 1763, in CRG, 9:73. 54. Cherokee conference, October 14, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:383– 88, quote from 387. 55. Talk of Gun Merchant to Governor Glen and Council, January 15, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:55– 60, quote from 59. 56. Richardson, Diary, July 30, 1759, South Caroliniana Library, 48. 57. Congress at Pensacola, May 27, 1765, in MPAED, 198. 58. Swanton, “Early Account,” 55. Th e Choctaw also claimed that the French owed them for the lands that they occupied, which also fi gured into their demand for goods. 59. Glover, All Our Relations, 10– 11; Shammas, “English Inheritance Law.” 60. Jenny Pulsipher has suggested that colonists “insisted that [Indians’] subject status was mediated through them, making them superior to the king’s Indian subjects.” Pulsipher, Sub- jects unto the Same King, 15. 61. Shoemaker, “An Alliance between Men.” Notes to Pages 29–33 209

62. Ludovick Grant and Joseph Axson to Governor Glen, March 24, 1755, in DRIA, 2:47. 63. Talk of Gun Merchant to Governor Glen, January 13, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:48–53, quote from 49. 64. Talk of Gun Merchant to Governor Glen, January 15, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:55–60, quote from 56. 65. Richard Richardson to Governor Lyttelton, February 26, 1760, in DRIA, 2:502. On King Hagler, see Merrell, “Minding the Business of the Nation.” 66. Choctaw Congress, March 27, 1765, in MPAED, 226– 27. 67. Patrick Tonyn to the Creek, December 6, 1775, cited in Calloway, American Revolution in Indian Country, 45. 68. Talk from George Galphin and others to the Head Men and Warriors of the Upper and Lower Creek, December 16, 1778, in Laurens Papers, South Caroliniana Library, inser- tions in original. A few months earlier, another US offi cial told the Cherokee that “we white people that are born on this Same Land with you . . . are like Brothers born of one woman, and that grew up by sucking one breast, Th is ground is our Common mother, & by the nourish- ment that fl ows from her we all grow Strong.” Talk of White Dog of the Valley with [Ed- ward?] Wilkinson, Capt. Tubb, and John Lewis Gervais[?], June 24, 1778, in Laurens Papers, South Caroliniana Library. 69. Minutes, September 5, 1749, in SCCJ, 17(2): 617– 19. 70. Nancy Shoemaker has critiqued research regarding powerful women in Indian soci- ety. She writes, “Not all of the research on women chiefs and women warriors distinguishes between an institutionalized form of power and the occasional, exceptional woman who opted to take on the male role, who was of high rank . . . or who for some reason wielded political powers that usually fell to men.” She further argues that few scholars “would use the promi- nence of Queen Elizabeth I and Joan of Arc to suggest that women in medieval Europe were equally or more powerful than men, and yet this kind of conclusion is common in Indian his- tory.” Shoemaker, introduction to Negotiators of Change, 6. 71. On persistent localism and the lack of a centralized government during the eighteenth century, see Boulware, “Th e Eff ect of the Seven Years’ War on the Cherokee Nation”; Cham- pagne, Social Order and Political Change; Galloway, “So Many Little Republics”; Merrell, Indians’ New World; Piker, “ ‘White and Clean’ and Contested,” and Okfuskee. 72. Th e English tried to declare fi rst Brim and then Malatchi supreme chief in the Creek nation. Hahn, Invention of the Creek Nation, 71–73, 195–201. Patricia Galloway has noted that the French tried to create the position of “Great Chief ” among the Choctaw, who would have authority over the four division chiefs. Galloway, Choctaw Genesis, 2. 73. Cuming, “Account of the Cherrokee Indians,” 3– 4. 74. Captain Kent to James Oglethorpe, December 31, 1741, in CRG, 23:196. 75. Moore, “Voyage to Georgia,” 102. 76. Minutes, July 7, 1744, in SCCJ, 11(2):400. 77. Minutes, July 28, 1744, in SCCJ, 11(2):428– 29. 78. On the association of women with peace, see Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman. 79. Examination of John Kenard, July 15, 1756, in CRG, 27:280. 210 Notes to Pages 33–35

80. Daniel Pepper to Governor Lyttelton, December 21, 1756, in DRIA, 2:299. For more on forts, see chapter 3. 81. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 51– 52. 82. Talk of Wolf Warrior of New Nackalassa (Creek) to Governor Lyttelton, January 25, 1758, SCCJ, 26(2):100– 102, quote from 102. 83. Amelia Rector Bell notes that among modern people, this distinction re- mains. “A Creek woman is fundamentally a hómpita háya ‘food maker’—a cook.” Women pre- pare the symbolically important dish of sófki:, while men provide the wood for the cooking fi re or stove but otherwise remain uninvolved. Bell, “Separate People,” 335. 84. O’Brien, “Conqueror Meets the Unconquered,” 59. 85. Pryce Hughes to the Duchess of Ormond (to be delivered to the queen), [October] 15, 1713, Letters of Pryce Hughes, South Caroliniana Library, Columbia. 86. Moore, “Voyage to Georgia,” 102– 3. 87. On the adoption of livestock raising among the Creek, see Pavao- Zuckerman, “Ver- tebrate Subsistence in the Mississippian- Historic Transition”; Saunt, New Order of Th ings, 49–50; Piker, Okfuskee, 123– 24. 88. Talk of Attakullakulla, February 2, 1757, in SCCJ, 26:28– 34, quote from 30– 31. Simi- larly, in 1778, Bird of the Valley reported that his people “remember all the good talk they have heard from this way,” and further, the headmen “frequently talk them over in their Town houses and squares before all their people and tell them over to their Children that they may remember them and so pass them down to the next Generation.” Talks delivered to Col. LeRoy Hammond and Edward Winkinson at Fort Rutledge, September 26, 1778, in Laurens Papers, South Caroliniana Library. 89. Nairne referred to Creek government as “the shadow of an Aristocracy” and com- plained, “One can hardly perceive that they have a king, at all.” Chiefs, he reported, “seldom ever use any Coercion, only harrangue, if by that they can persuade it’s well, if not they rarely inforce their orders by sanctions.” Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 32. 90. Joseph Martin, “Journal of the Hopewell Treaties, 1786,” quoted in O’Brien, “Con- queror Meets the Unconquered,” 54, insertion in O’Brien. 91. Adair, History, 460. 92. Ibid., 5–6. See also Bartram, Travels, 357. Recent archaeological research indicates a clear distinction between the locus of men’s and women’s infl uence in the nations. Christo- pher Rodning and Lynne Sullivan have demonstrated that elite men were often buried in the council house or (earlier) in mounds, while elite women were often buried in their house- holds. Both argue, however, that while women’s power was located in the clan and in the fam- ily rather than in the council house, this does not necessarily indicate that women lacked in- fl uence. Instead, it simply suggests a diff erent locus of power. Rodning, “Mortuary Ritual and Gender Ideology”; Sullivan, “Th ose Men in the Mounds”; Sullivan and Rodning, “Gender, Tradition, and the Negotiation of Power.” 93. Pesantubbee, Choctaw Women, 23– 32. 94. Amelia Rector Bell notes that among modern Muscogee, women still “do not speak in most public and ritual contexts.” Women’s speech, she argues, is associated with gossip, produc- ing “confl icts that men must settle through combat.” Bell, “Separate People,” 338. Eighteenth- Notes to Pages 35–41 211

century records do not indicate why women did not usually speak in diplomatic contexts, so it is diffi cult to know if the association Bell identifi es between women’s speech and gossip or disorder existed at that time or not. 95. Cornelius Daugherty to Governor Glen, September 4, 1749, in SCCJ, 17(2):590– 92. 96. Talk of the Little Carpenter to Governor Lyttelton and Council, February 9, 1757, in SCCJ, 26:41–49, quote from 45. 97. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 49. 98. Journal of Th omas Bosomworth, August 11, 1752, in DRIA, 1:276. 99. General Nathaniel Greene Papers, quoted in Williams, Tennessee during the Revolu- tionary War, 201. 100. Governor Périer to Comte de Maurepas, April 1, 1730, in MPAFD, 4:31– 35. 101. Atkins, “Historical Account,” 71. During the American Revolution, the Americans and Cherokees deliberately used women as messengers when seeking peace. See Talk of White Dog of the Valley with [Edward?] Wilkinson, Capt. Tubb, and John Lewis Gervais[?], June 24, 1778, in Laurens Papers, South Caroliniana Library; Stephen Heard to Governor Martin, July 27, 1782, in John Martin Papers, Georgia Historical Society. 102. Edward Jenkins to James Oglethorpe, January 20, 1734/ 35, in CRG, 20:185, insertion in original. 103. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, September 12, 1756, in DRIA, 2:199– 202, quote from 201, insertion in original. 104. Talk of Little Carpenter to Governor Lyttelton and Council, February 9, 1757, in SCCJ, 26:41– 49. On the relative authority of native women in southeastern societies, see Sattler, “Women’s Status among the Muskogee and Cherokee.” 105. Speech of Governor Lyttelton to the Cherokee, February 12, 1757, in SCCJ, 26:50– 56, quote from 53. 106. Anzilotti, In the Aff airs of the World; Salmon, “Women and Property in South Caro- lina.” 107. Minutes, November 23, 1716, in JCIT, 129. 108. Minutes, February 9, 1750, in SCJCHA (March 28, 1749– March 19, 1750), 402. 109. Commons to Council, April 18, 1753, in SCCJ- UH, 22:56. 110. On gift giving, see Hall, Zamumo’s Gifts; Mauss, Th e Gift; Miller, “Gifts as Treaties”; Murray, Indian Giving; White, Middle Ground, esp. 112– 19; White, “Give Us a Little Milk.” On the consequences of misunderstandings relating to gift giving for diplomacy, see Mal- lios, Deadly Politics of Giving; Dowd, “Insidious Friends”; Quitt, “Trade and Acculturation at Jamestown.” While giving gifts established relationships, refusal to receive gifts could be a sign that something was very wrong in diplomatic relations. Displeased with negotiations regard- ing the trade, several Creek leaders gave up their commissions and refused to accept presents from South Carolina. Council Minutes, June 2, 1753, in DRIA, 1:407. 111. Sandford, “A Relation of a Voyage,” 100. 112. Instructions to Storekeeper Joseph West, [1669?], in Cheves, Shaftesbury Papers, 128. For additional examples, see Minutes, August 27, 1701, in JCHA (August 13, 1701– August 28, 1701), 24; Minutes, October 28, 1707, in JCHA (October 22, 1707– February 12, 1707/ 8), 13. 113. One exception occurred during a visit by Cherokee headmen to Charles Town in 1758, 212 Notes to Pages 42–44 bearing gifts and endeavoring to mend the peace in the face of rising frontier hostilities. See Dowd, “Insidious Friends,” esp. 147. 114. Report of Committee of Conference on Indian Aff airs, April 26, 1745, in SCCJ- UH, 13:99. 115. Instructions for Abraham Bosomworth, in Minutes, July 13, 1749, in SCCJ, 17(2): 529–30. 116. Commons to Council, April 18, 1753, in SCCJ- UH, 22:56. Greg O’Brien has suggested that red coats probably reinforced chiefs’ positions as war leaders because red was the color of war. O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 78, and “Trying to Look like Men,” 58. 117. Richardson, Diary, July 30, 1758, South Caroliniana Library, 47– 48. 118. O’Brien, “Supplying Our Wants,” 73. See also O’Brien, “Trying to Look like Men.” 119. Governor Périer to Comptroller General Philibert Ory, November 15, [1730], in MPAFD, 4:52– 56. 120. Old Hopp to Capt. Raymond Demere, October 3, 1756, in DRIA, 2:224. 121. Th e king fi rst granted the sum of 3,000 annually for presents for the Indians in South Carolina and Georgia. Duke of Bedford to [Governor James Glen and Council], May 28, 1748, in SCCJ, 17(1):314; Journal of the Trustees, May 24, 1748, in CRG, 1:515. 122. Sergeant Harrison to Governor Glen, March 27, 1754, in DRIA, 1:485. 123. For instances of the linkage of commissions and gifts, see Samuel Eveleigh to Trustees, April 6, 1733, in CRG, 20:19; Minutes, March 25, 1741, in SCCJ- UH, 7:401; Minutes, June 25, 1748, in SCCJ- UH, 16:163– 67; Minutes, September 7, 1749, in SCCJ, 17(2):624– 26; Council Minutes, April 24, 1759, in SCCJ, 28:86– 89; Minutes, November 8, 1760, in CRG, 8:417–22; Choctaw Congress, March 27, 1765, in MPAED, 229. 124. See Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 35–36; Minutes, September 12, 1717, in JGCGT, 1:122. Similarly, the French presented leading men with medals from the king, acknowledg- ing their positions. Th ese medals were particularly closely linked to gifts, as medal chiefs were supplied with goods to be redistributed among the villages. Th e French regularly grumbled about the need to supply gifts in order to prop up the authority of friendly chiefs. Frustrated at the weak infl uence of the medal chiefs in the Choctaw nation, the governor-general of New France, Pierre François de Rigaud, Marquis de Vaudreuil-Cavagnal, concluded, “We can rem- edy this diffi culty and give authority to certain great medal chiefs only by means of presents, and furthermore it must be done with circumspection, for fear that those who have authority may abuse it.” Governor- General Vaudreuil to Comte de Maurepas, February 12, 1744, MPAFD, 4:216. Th e practice of giving medals was widespread throughout the French colonies. For an ex- ample of this practice for the pays d’en haut, see White, Middle Ground, 177– 83. 125. Merrell, Indians’ New World, 150– 51. 126. Minutes, September 12, 1717, in JGCGT, 1:121. For similar examples, see Minutes, May 19, 1742, in SCCJ, 8:41–42; Minutes, April 24, 1759, in SCCJ, 28:86; Minutes, March 1, 1766, in SCCJ, 32:730– 31. 127. Choctaw Congress, April 1, 1765, in MPAED, 239– 41. 128. Fitch, “Journal,” 194– 95, insertions other than “[sic]” in Mereness. 129. Colonel Chicken to Lt. Governor Middleton and Council, August 30, 1725, in SCCJ, 3:117–25, quote from 120, insertion in original. For a similar example, see Talk of Five Upper Creeks to Governor Glen, [April 1752], in DRIA, 1:231– 32. Notes to Pages 45–52 213

130. Journal of Th omas Bosomworth, October 11, 1752, in DRIA, 1:305. 131. Patrick Mackay to [Th omas Causton], March 27, 1735, in CRG, 20:290– 91. 132. Scheme for Regulating the Indian Trade, [1751], in DRIA, 1:89. 133. Atkins, Appalachian Indian Frontier, 28– 29. (Th ere does not seem to be any agree- ment regarding the spelling of Atkins’s name. I have chosen a spelling that diff ers from that used by Jacobs.) 134. Th omas Smith, Nicholas Trott, Francis Yonge, Robert Daniell, Samuel Eveleigh, Charles Hart to Proprietors, January 26, 1716/ 17, in BPRO-SC, 7:3. See also Joseph Boone to Proprietors, April 25, 1717, in BPRO-SC, 7:15. 135. Atkins, Appalachian Indian Frontier, 30, insertion in Jacobs edition. Th e French also worried that buying Indian loyalty with generous gifts could be dangerous. Comptroller General Ory asserted that presents should only be granted “in reward for the services that they have rendered” and not for any other reason. It was essential, he asserted, that the goods “not have at all the appearance of a tribute.” Comptroller General Ory to Governor Périer, No- vember 1, 1730, in MPAFD, 4:45– 52, quote from 46. 136. Conference between William Bull and the Chickasaw Indians, July 20, 1758, in DRIA, 2:475. 137. For an example of gift giving in conjunction with diplomacy for the post– Revolutionary War period, see O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 54– 56. 138. Report of the Committee of Conference on Indian Aff airs, June 1, 1738, in SCCJ-UH, 7:122. 139. Minutes, July 7, 1744, in SCCJ, 11(2):400. 140. Talk of Kanagatoga and others, April 22, 1752, in DRIA, 1:253–54, insertion in origi- nal. On the changing defi nition of “Match- Coats,” see Becker, “Matchcoats.” 141. Minutes, October 29, 1766, in SCCJ, 32:855– 56. 142. Lawson, New Voyage, 30. 143. Ibid., 208. 144. Pagden, Lords of All the World.

2. “I Am a Man and a Warrior” 1. For an exception to this generalization, see Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman; Brown, “Th e Anglo- Algonquian Gender Frontier”; Little, Abraham in Arms; O’Brien, Choc- taws in a Revolutionary Age; Saunt, “Domestick . . . Quiet Being Broke.” 2. Merrell, “Indians’ New World.” 3. Some theorists, like Péristiany, focus primarily on the second aspect. Péristiany argues that “honour and shame are social evaluations and thus participate of the nature of social sanctions.” Th ey are “the refl ection of the social personality in the mirror of social ideals.” Péristiany, introduction to Honour and Shame, 9. Others, like Julian Pitt- Rivers, argue for a more multifaceted type of honor. Pitt-Rivers notes that “honour is the value of a person in his own eyes, but also in the eyes of his society.” Pitt-Rivers, “Honour and Social Status,” 21. Honor is not often studied in a cross-cultural context. International honor relations are very diff erent from those found in small-scale societies. On honor in a small, homogeneous society, see Bourdieu, “Th e Sentiment of Honour in Kabyle Society,” esp. 197– 98. 4. Jeremy Horder has suggested that to “treat a man with irreverence, disdain, or contempt, 214 Notes to Pages 52–55 to poke fun at him or to accuse him (even in jest) of failing in point of virtue, was, accordingly, to fail to treat him with respect; it was to undermine or disregard the supposition, at the heart of natural honour, that he was not defi cient in any principal virtue.” Horder, Provocation and Responsibility, 26. 5. Studies of European notions of honor often tend to link honor culture to dueling. An- drew, “Th e Code of Honour and Its Critics”; Kiernan, Duel in European History; Shoemaker, “Male Honour and the Decline of Public Violence.” Others link male honor to the family. See Foyster, Manhood in Early Modern England; Fletcher, Gender, Sex and Subordination. Although the honor culture of white (especially male) society of the antebellum South has received considerable attention, little work has been done on the ways the honor culture of Eu- rope in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was translated to the New World. On honor in the antebellum South, see Wyatt- Brown, Southern Honor; Ayers, Vengeance and Justice. On elite honor in the eighteenth century (especially in Virginia) see Baird, “Th e Social Origins of Dueling in Virginia”; Breen, “Horses and Gentlemen”; Isaac, Transformation of Virginia; Sayen, “George Washington’s ‘Unmannerly’ Behavior.” Scholars do not often use the term honor when discussing southeastern Indian societies. Anthropologists and ethnohistorians alike more often use the term status, which refers to the place that a person fi lls in a social network. It includes considerations of honor, prestige, rank or position, authority, social standing, and role. Nevertheless, it becomes clear that honor was a substantial part of masculine identity in the region. For discussions of native manhood and its link to both warfare and honor in the Southeast (especially relating to the bestowal of war names), see Carson, Searching for the Bright Path, esp. 18– 19; Hatley, Dividing Paths, esp. 9–10; Hudson, Southeastern Indians, esp. 240– 41; O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, esp. 27– 49, and “Trying to Look like Men”; Saunt, “Domestick . . . Quiet Being Broke,” 154– 57; Sheidley, “Unruly Men.” Scholars working on other regions talk more about native notions of masculine honor, es- pecially in relation to marriage (rather than warrior ability). See Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman, esp. 62; Romero, “Ranging Foresters,” esp. 304– 9. 6. On diversity in southern notions of honor (especially in the nineteenth century), see Gorn, “Gouge and Bite, Pull Hair and Scratch”; Walther, “Southerners’ Honors.” 7. Salley, Journal of Colonel John Herbert, 25– 27. 8. Bridges, Jacobi, and Powell, “Warfare- Related Trauma in the Late Prehistory of Ala- bama”; Jones, Native North American Armor; Larson, “Functional Considerations of Warfare”; Smith, “Beyond Palisades”; Steinen, “Ambushes, Raids, and Palisades”; Vogel and Allen, “Mis- sissippian Fortifi cations at Moundville.” 9. David Dye, “Warfare in the Sixteenth-Century Southeast,” and “Warfare in the Proto- historic Southeast.” 10. Worth, “Spanish Missions.” 11. On warfare during this era, see Bowne, Westo Indians; Crane, Southern Frontier; Gal- lay, Indian Slave Trade; Hahn, Invention of the Creek Nation; Oatis, Colonial Complex, 124– 26; Ramsey, Yama see War ; Schrager, “Yamasee Indians.” 12. Several recent studies link hunting, warfare, and masculine identity. Both hunting and warfare involved the taking of life and therefore were considered “red” occupations, associated Notes to Pages 55–57 215 with particularly masculine spiritual power. Hunting ability involved skills related to those of warfare and thus was also important in determining a man’s reputation among his people. A man’s hunting prowess endowed him with the ability to provide well for his family and gained him respect within his own community. It required much of the same spiritual power that war did and involved contact with blood as well as the taking of life. Ultimately, however, it did not bring him titles or a position of military or political leadership. Warfare, because of its exter- nal orientation, shaped the reputation and infl uence a group enjoyed beyond its own bound- aries. A man’s skill in martial pursuits, then, did more to advance the interests of the society on the international stage and therefore received more recognition. On the link between war- fare, hunting, and masculinity, see O’Brien, “Protecting Trade through War”; Hatley, Dividing Paths, esp. 9– 10; Sheidley, “Unruly Men.” 13. Swanton, “Early Account,” 55. 14. Ibid., 66. Failure to endure this ceremony caused the youth to be labeled as a woman. 15. Adair, History, 7. 16. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 62. Adair observed that the Cherokee dry- scratched and beat a young man they considered “more eff eminate than became a warrior.” Adair, History, 163. 17. DeBrahm, Report, 109; Adair, History, 406. On the signifi cance of war names among the Choctaw, see O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 45– 46. 18. Adair, History, 417. 19. For a thorough account of the link between manhood, military accomplishment, and titles among the Choctaw, see O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 27– 31. 20. Reid, Law of Blood; Perdue, Cherokee Women, 53. 21. For the link between military success and mastery of spiritual forces, see O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, esp. 27; Sheidley, “Unruly Men,” 61. For a similar connec- tion between spiritual power, military success, and manhood in New England, see Romero, “ ‘Ranging Foresters’ and ‘Women- Like Men.’ ” 22. Swanton, “Early Account,” 65. 23. DeBrahm, Report, 112– 13. 24. Adair, History, 416. 25. Lawson, New Voyage, 198. 26. Patrick Mackay to Trustees, March 23, 1734/35, in CRG, 20:279. Mackay was also cap- tain of an independent company of rangers. 27. Gearing, Priests and Warriors, 52. 28. Adair, History, 407. See also Bartram, Travels, 315. Th e more balanced view that Adair and Bartram were able to take in the 1770s perhaps refl ects the extent to which the balance of power had shifted in the Southeast. Although still formidable powers, the tribes no longer posed the kind of threat that they had fi fty years earlier. 29. Francis Jennings claims that “the motives for aboriginal war appear to have been few, and the casualties slight. Contact with Europeans added new motives and weapons and mul- tiplied casualties.” Jennings, Invasion of America, 159. Several historians have followed Jen- nings’s lead. See Keegan, History of Warfare, 84–94; Malone, Skulking Way of War, 9. Laurence Keeley is best known for advancing the idea that prestate warfare was more deadly. Keeley, War Before Civilization. Among historians, Jill Lepore has picked up on his argument. Lepore, 216 Notes to Pages 57–58

Th e Name of War, 117–18. Keeley’s work has been controversial, and the debate continues. For an overview of the debate over prestate warfare, see Lee, “Early American Ways of War,” esp. 271– 73; Otterbein, “Th e Origins of War.” 30. Clark, War and Society in the Seventeenth Century, 4. On attitudes regarding war, see also Tallett, War and Society in Early-Modern Europe, 232– 45. Histories of English masculin- ity for the long eighteenth century give very little treatment to the relationship between war- fare and masculinity. For an overview of the historiography of manhood for this time period, see Harvey, “Th e History of Masculinity, circa 1650– 1800.” Histories of honor and military histories acknowledge the link between military virtue and manly identity and honor, but more work needs to be done on this subject. See Horder, Provocation and Responsibility, esp. 28; Ferling, Wilderness of Miseries, esp. 60– 61. For links between manhood and service as a citizen- soldier during the Revolutionary era, see Dudink and Hagemann, “Masculinity and Politics and War in the Age of Democratic Revolutions, 1750–1850.” Th e literary scholar Leo Braudy off ers an overview of the links between masculinity and warfare from the medieval to the modern era. Th e approach is eclectic, drawing on everything from literary works to his- tory to fi lm. Th e work unfortunately does not include citations, only a bibliography. Braudy, From Chivalry to Terrorism. A historiography linking manhood and violence tends to focus mostly on issues of domes- tic violence, crime, rioting, and similar events. It does not deal with warfare. For a review of this literature, see Skipp, “Violence, Aggression and Masculinity.” See also Shepard, Meanings of Manhood in Early Modern England, esp. 127– 51; Shoemaker, “Reforming Male Manners.” 31. Little, Abraham in Arms, 20– 22; Black, European Warfare, 1660–1815; Tallett, War and Society in Early- Modern Europe. 32. Ferling, Wilderness of Miseries, 28. 33. Ann Little has demonstrated the importance of such concerns to colonial New En- gland, as well as the eff ect that this phenomenon had on colonial masculinity. Th e quote, re- ferring to New England, can easily be applied to any of the colonies in their early decades and to any frontier region. Little, Abraham in Arms, 26. 34. Millis, Arms and Men. 35. John Grenier has demonstrated that most colonies came to depend on units of “rang- ers,” who patrolled the frontiers and engaged Indian and other enemies. Regular British army offi cers often considered these rangers distasteful, but they also found that they could not function without them. In the southern colonies, rangers were usually mounted, somewhat analogous to irregular cavalry units. Grenier, First Way of War. Patrick Malone has argued that militias in general were more eff ective forces than they had been in England. Malone, Skulk- ing Way of War, 75. On rangers in the southern colonies, see also Ivers, British Drums on the Southern Frontier; Johnson, Militiamen, Rangers, and Redcoats. On the militia in America, see also Millis, Arms and Men, 22–24; Williams, History of American Wars, 7–10 (although his treatment of Indian- colonial wars is dated). 36. Th omas Nairne, “A Letter from South Carolina [London, 1710],” in Greene, Selling a New World, 51. For early examples of militia organization, see Governor West to Lord Ashley, Albemarle Point in Ashley River, March 21, 1670/71, in Cheves, Shaftesbury Papers, 296–300, quote from 296; John Stewart to William Dunlop, April 27, 1690, in Webber, “Letters from John Stewart to William Dunlop,” 29. Notes to Pages 58–61 217

37. Instructions to Governor and Council, July 27, 1669, in Cheves, Shaftesbury Papers, 123. 38. Council to the Proprietors, September 9, 1670, in Cheves, Shaftesbury Papers, 178– 79. 39. Some groups seem to have sought out the English because they desired assistance fi ght- ing the Westo. Bowne, Westo Indians; Hall, Zamumo’s Gifts; Gallay, Indian Slave Trade. On English reliance on native auxiliaries in the early decades of the settlement, see Bowne, Westo Indians; Crane, Southern Frontier; Gallay, Indian Slave Trade; Hahn, Invention of the Creek Na- tion; Oatis, Colonial Complex. Bowne has argued that the Westo, for example, were in fact more eff ective fi ghters than Englishmen were in the late seventeenth century, which was why the Proprietors included them in their earliest defense plans. Bowne, “A Bold and Warlike People.” For a similar argument applying to all the colonies (but based especially on New En- gland sources), see Malone, Skulking Way of War. 40. Council Journal, Minutes, September 23, 1671, in Cheves, Shaftesbury Papers, 341– 42. 41. Minutes, September 3 and October 4 and 7, 1673, in JGCSC, 1:63– 64. 42. Minutes, April 11, 1707, in CHJ, 3:149– 50. For similar instances, see Minutes, August 15, 1701, in JCHA (August 13, 1701– August 28, 1701), 6; Minutes, April 21 and 23, 1709, in CHJ, 3:415, 419; Message from Commons to Governor Nicholson, June 12, 1724, in JCHA ( June 2, 1724– June 16, 1724), 34; Report of Committee, November 24, 1726, in JCHA (November 15, 1726– March 11, 1726/ 27), 16. 43. On James Moore’s two expeditions into Florida, see Arnade, Siege of St. Augustine in 1702; Boyd, Smith, and Griffi n, Here Th ey Once Stood; Galley, Indian Slave Trade, 127– 54; Hahn, Creation of the Creek Nation, 58–74; Hall, Zamumo’s Gifts, 95–116; Hann, Apalachee; Oatis, Colonial Complex, 42–82. On the Tuscarora War, see Barnwell, “Tuscarora Expedition,” and “Second Tuscarora Expedition”; Feeley, “Tuscarora Trails”; Gallay, Indian Slave Trade, 259–87; Lee, Indian Wars in North Carolina; Oatis, Colonial Complex, 83–111; Parramore, “With Tuscarora Jack on the Back Path to Bath.” 44. Th omas Nairne, “A Letter from South Carolina [London, 1710],” in Greene, Selling a New World, 52. 45. Lanning, St. Augustine Expedition, 101– 3. 46. Th omas Nairne, “A Letter from South Carolina [London, 1710],” in Greene, Selling a New World, 52. 47. Lawson, New Voyage, 4. Similarly, in 1742, Benjamin Martyn of Georgia advocated em- ploying neighboring Indians who “by ranging through the woods would be capable of giving constant intelligence to prevent any surprise upon the people, and would be a good out- guard for the inland parts of the province.” [Martyn], “An Account, Showing the Progress of the Colony of Georgia,” 285. 48. Patrick Malone has argued that this anxiety may have been intensifi ed because of the fear that the Indians were better warriors than Englishmen. Malone, Skulking Way of War, 67–87. 49. William Owen to Lord Ashley, October 15, 1670, in Cheves, Shaftesbury Papers, 200. 50. Proprietors to Governor West and Council, April 10, 1677, in BPRO-SC, 1:58. 51. Patrick Mackay to Trustees, March 23, 1734/ 35, in CRG, 20:279. 52. Governor Périer to Comte de Maurepas, April 1, 1730, MPAFD, 4:31; Governor Périer to Comptroller General Ory, August 1, 1730, in ibid., 39– 40, 43. 53. Lawson, New Voyage, 234– 35. 218 Notes to Pages 61–64

54. James Habersham to Mrs. Mary Bagwith, February 3, 1774, in James Habersham Papers, Georgia Historical Society. 55. Scholars have noted that native and European men evaluated one another based on dif- ferences in military tactics. See Brown, “Th e Anglo- Algonquian Gender Frontier”; Romero, “ ‘Ranging Foresters’ and ‘Women- Like Men.’ ” 56. Lee, “Fortify, Fight, or Flee,” esp. 716. David Dye has suggested that the decrease in large- scale warfare may also have been a result of the decentralization of authority that re- sulted from protohistoric and early historic population losses. Dye, “Warfare in the Protohis- toric Southeast,” esp. 136. Native tactics may also have been more varied than many English- men acknowledged. Matthew Ward has demonstrated that mid-Atlantic tribes varied their methods during the French and Indian War depending on their objectives and the size of the war party. While larger groups might attack frontier forts and supply depots, smaller parties sought out isolated plantations where there were many women and children to capture and little armed resistance was expected. Ward, “Fighting the ‘Old Women.’ ” 57. Abraham Wood to John Richards, August 22, 1674, in Alvord and Bidgood, First Explo- rations of the Trans- Allegheny Region, 222. 58. Patrick Mackay to Trustees, March 23, 1734/ 35, in CRG, 20:279. 59. Diron D’Artaguiette to Comte de Maurepas, October 24, 1737, in MPAFD, 4:148, in- sertion in MPAFD. 60. Lawson, Natural History, 197. 61. On criminal punishment in Britain during the early modern era, see Beattie, Crime and the Courts in England, esp. 450–618; Laqueur, “Crowds, Carnival, and the State in English Ex- ecutions.” On violence against slaves, see Berlin, Many Th ousands Gone; Morgan, Slave Coun- terpoint; Wood, “Until He Shall Be Dead, Dead, Dead”; Wood, Black Majority. 62. Adair, History, 418– 19. 63. Commandant Charles-François Cullot de Crémont to Comte de Maurepas, Febru- ary 21, 1737, in MPAFD, 4:141. Swanton identifi es the Avoyel as members of the Muskhogean linguistic family and early occupants of Marksville Prairie on the Red River. Swanton, Indians of the Southeastern Unites States, 198, 239. 64. Affi davit of James Maxwell, June 12, 1751, in DRIA, 1:68; Governor Glen to the Town of Keowee [May 1751], in ibid., 1:84. 65. Talk of Cherokee with Governor Lyttelton and Council, February 17, 1757, in SCCJ, 26:57– 62, quote from 60. 66. Adair, History, 151n. 67. Walter Millis has noted that “the purchase of commissions . . . though frequently ‘abol- ished,’ lingered in the British service until far into the nineteenth century.” Millis, Arms and Men, 18. Offi cers in the English army were chosen from the nobility or the landed classes, often purchased commissions, and expected to use their offi ces as a way of gaining royal favor. Doughty, Warfare in the Western World, 33. See also Black, Military Revolution?, 77– 82. 68. Adair, History, 463. 69. Lanning, St. Augustine Expedition, 18. Th e records relating to the St. Augustine expedi- tion must be used with care. Th e attempt to capture the Spanish fort failed miserably and led to a fl urry of fi nger pointing and pamphlet writing. In response to accusations by Ogle thorpe’s followers that South Carolina’s failure to provide promised aid was to blame for the expedi- Notes to Pages 64–68 219 tion’s failure, the South Carolina Assembly produced a lengthy report, complete with an ap- pendix of more than one hundred letters and depositions regarding the venture. Georgians responded with their own accounts. 70. Lanning, St. Augustine Expedition, 85. 71. Ibid., 24. On Jones, see ibid., 24, 32, 38–40, 87, 124, 119–21. On the St. Augustine expe- dition, see Baine, “General James Oglethorpe and the Expedition Against St. Augustine”; Gal- lay, Formation of a Planter Elite, 24– 29; Ivers, British Drums, 105– 32. 72. Deposition of Jonathan Bryan, March 25, 1741, in Lanning, St. Augustine Expedition, 116– 18, quote from 118. 73. Adair, History, 427. 74. Deposition of William Steads, March 13, 1740, in Lanning, St. Augustine Expedition, 125– 28, quote from 128. Oglethorpe’s reason for refusing to accept the head is unclear. English offi cials usually did not scruple to accept scalps or other evidence that their allies had killed enemy Indians. 75. Deposition of Captain Richard Wright, March 28, 1740, in Lanning, St. Augustine Ex- pedition, 129–32. Steads’s and Wright’s accounts indicate that the general added insult to in- jury by calling the Indians “barbarous or cruel Dogs.” Th is accusation was quickly repudiated by Georgia pamphleteers. George Cadogan, who accompanied Oglethorpe on the expedition, called such accusations “as ridiculous as false; for his Excellency never did call them barbarous Dogs; but only told some Gentlemen then with him, that he did not approve of Barbarities of that kind, and refused to see the Indian’s Head.” Cadogan, Spanish Hireling Detected, 31– 32. 76. Deposition of William Steads, March 13, 1740, in Lanning, St. Augustine Expedition, 125–28. 77. Deposition of Captain Richard Wright, March 28, 1740, in Lanning, St. Augustine Ex- pedition, 129– 32. Cadogan claimed that the Chickasaw, including the Squirrel King himself, continued to show “great Bravery and Fidelity” to Georgia and Oglethorpe when the Span- ish retaliated and attempted their own invasion. He also reported that, as far as he knew, the Chickasaw never intended to leave the general after this incident so that the Carolinians could not claim credit for convincing them to stay. Cadogan, Spanish Hireling Detected, 31– 32. 78. On John Stuart, see Alden, John Stuart and the Southern Colonial Frontier; Snapp, John Stuart and the Struggle for Empire. 79. Talk of Woolenawa and Little Carpenter to Capt. Raymond Demere, December 17, 1756, in DRIA, 2:270. Woolenawa’s name is sometimes given as Willeeneewa, Tiff toya, Tiftoa, and Tistoa in the records. 80. Adair, History, 315. 81. O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 31. 82. Talk of Cherokee and Governor Glen, November 14, 1751, in DRIA, 1:177. 83. Proceedings of the Council Concerning Indian Aff airs, July 7, 1753, DRIA, 1:452. 84. For scholarship on the use of the trope of “woman” to insult men, see Fur, Nation of Women, 160–98; Merritt, “Metaphor, Meaning, and Misunderstanding,” 77–81; O’Brien, “Trying to Look like Men,” esp. 52–55; Saunt, “Domestick . . . Quiet Being Broke,” 154– 55; Shoemaker, A Strange Likeness, 105– 24, and “An Alliance between Men”; Trexler, Sex and Conquest, 71– 81. 85. John Stewart to Queen Anne, March 10, 1711, quoted in Gallay, Indian Slave Trade, 181. 220 Notes to Pages 68–71

86. John Stewart [to Queen Anne, 1711?], quoted in Gallay, Indian Slave Trade, 188. 87. Merritt, “Metaphor, Meaning, and Misunderstanding,” 77–81. Jay Miller cites Frank Speck and Anthony F. C. Wallace as the earliest advocates of this position. Miller, “Delaware as Women.” 88. For examples of English uses of woman as an insult, see Letter of Capt. Jonathan St. Lo to Burchett and Enclosure, July 12, 1715, reproduced in Ramsey, Yama see War, 228; Min- utes, May 7, 1714, in JCIT, 57; Instrument from the general assembly of the Creek Nation, Au- gust 2, 1750, in CRG, 27:211; Deputy Superintendent Alexander Cameron to Governor and Council, read September 21, 1772, in SCCJ, 36(2):176. 89. In fact, Trexler explains that “the Nahuatl [Aztec] word for a powerful warrior (te- cuilónti) means ‘I make someone into a passive.’ ” Trexler, Sex and Conquest, esp. 8, 64–81, quote in text from 68, quote in note from 71. 90. Samuel Eveleigh to Herman Verelst, August 7, 1736, in CRG, 21:203– 5. 91. Romans, Natural History, 70. Claudio Saunt argues that “Romans had perhaps mis- taken a fi gurative expression for a literal statement, but his comment about sodomizing the enemy appears to have a metaphorical truth.” Saunt, New Order of Th ings, 143. However, I would argue that the Timucuan tradition, as well as the evidence of sexual torture among the Chickasaw (above), suggests that the practice was literal rather than fi gurative. 92. Christopher Gale to an unnamed sibling, November 2, 1711, in CRNC, 1:825– 27. 93. Fitch, “Journal,” 208– 9. 94. Adair, History, 334. 95. Diron D’Artaguiette to Comte de Maurepas, October 24, 1737, in MPAFD, 4:149, in- sertion in MPAFD. 96. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, July 21, 1756, in DRIA, 2:146. 97. Talk of the Nottaway Indians, enclosed in a letter from Stephen Crell to Governor Glen, May 2, 1751, in DRIA, 1:47. John R. Swanton identifi es the Nottoway as a combined band of Iroquois, Savannah, and Conestoga. Swanton, Indians of the Southeastern United States, 163– 64. Th e Provincial Council of Pennsylvania rendered the statement less politely: “that they were men and double men for they had two Penises; that they could make Women of Us, and would be always at War with us.” Minutes of the Provincial Council of Pennsylva- nia, quoted in Merritt, “Metaphor, Meaning, and Misunderstanding,” 78. Merritt further iden- tifi es the speaker in this case as Cayuga. 98. Romans, Natural History, 61. 99. Bartram, Travels, 382. Bartram did not indicate to which Augusta congress he was re- ferring. Th e insult does not seem to have prevented the Cherokee from making subsequent agreements to sell jointly held hunting territory, as they did in the early 1770s. Snapp, John Stuart, 116– 48. 100. Similar designation of the Delaware as “women” in relation to the Iroquois has re- ceived signifi cant scholarly attention. Interpretations vary. In the Iroquois version of the story, the Iroquois defeated the Delaware in battle and thereafter compelled them to take on the status of women, which ritualized their subjugation. According to the Delaware, however, they voluntarily accepted the status of women in order to serve as peacemakers and to avoid the necessity of warfare with Europeans. In either event, the Delaware took on the position Notes to Pages 71–74 221 of noncombatants (at least in relation to the Iroquois) and were excluded from the political decision- making processes. On the Delaware as “women,” see Fur, Nation of Women, 160– 98; Merritt, “Metaphor, Meaning, and Misunderstanding,” 77–81; Miller, “Delaware as Women”; Shoemaker, A Strange Likeness, 109– 12; Trexler, Sex and Conquest, 76– 79. 101. See chapter 1. 102. Richardson, Diary, January 24, 1759, South Caroliniana Library, 26. 103. Adair, History, 416. 104. Proceedings of the Council Concerning Indian Aff airs, July 7, 1753, in DRIA, 1:452. 105. Choctaw Congress, April 1, 1765, in MPAED, 238. See also O’Brien, “Trying to Look like Men,” 55. 106. Adair, History, 143. 107. Shoemaker, Strange Likeness, 111– 12. 108. Byington’s Choctaw dictionary translates woman as “hatak ohoyo,” or simply “ohoyo.” Other renderings designate women as aged (ohoyo kasheho), despised (ohoyo makali), fair (ohoyo pisa aiukli), laboring (ohoyo tonksa.li), large (ohoyo chito), mad (ohoyo mukoa), married (tekchi), very young (ohoyo himmitasi, ohoy himmitushi), young (ohoyo himmita), and white (na hollo ohoyo). Th e dictionary also lists translations for adulteress (hatak inhaklo, haui), grand- mother (apokni, a.ppokni, ipokni, ippokni), lady (ohoyo—the same as the word for woman), mother (chishke, ha.shki, ishki), sister (antek, a.ma.nni, ima.nni, innakfi sh, intek, itibapishi, nak- fi s h ), slut (ofi tek, ohoyo litiha), virgin (ohoyo hatak ikhalelo, ohoyo himmita), and wife (achuka, a.mohoyo, itaiena, ka.sheho, ohoyo, tekchi). Byington, Choctaw Language Dictionary, 383, 560, 599, 608. Th is dictionary, published after Byington’s death and edited by John R. Swanton and Henry Halbert, was compiled between Byington’s arrival in the Choctaw nation in 1821 and his death in 1868. On Byington, see Coleman, Cyrus Byington; Lankford, “Trouble at Danc- ing Rabbit Creek.” A modern Chickasaw dictionary lists fi ve terms under woman, providing separate desig- nations for homeless woman (ihoo inchokkiksho’), old woman (Ihoo kashiiho’), woman who has never been married (ihoo hattak ikimiksho’), and young woman (ihoo himitta’). Munro and Willmond, Chickasaw: An Analytical Dictionary, 536. A modern Creek dictionary diff erentiates between a woman (hoktē), a young woman (hoktē- mvnette ), and an old woman (hoktvlē). Martin and Mauldin, Dictionary of Creek/ Muskogee. A Cherokee dictionary from 1975 includes translations for several nouns referring to adult women, including aunt (uhlogi), grandmother (ulisi or unisi), mother (uji), old woman (agayvlige?i), sister (udo), wife (udali?i or usdayvhvsgi), woman (agehya), and young woman (ata). Feeling, Cherokee-English Dictionary. 109. Women’s involvement in warfare is discussed at greater length in chapter 3. 110. Romans, Natural History, 72. 111. On women as captives, see chapter 3. Women’s power to create life was often juxta- posed to men’s power to take it. O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, xxiv; Sheidley, “Hunting and the Politics of Masculinity,” 170, and “Unruly Men,” 61. 112. See chapter 5. Lederer, Discoveries, 29; Swanton, “Early Account,” 61. 113. Regis du Roullet to Comte de Maurepas, journal of his journey to the Choctaws, 1729, in MPAFD, 1:34. 222 Notes to Pages 74–78

114. Patrick Mackay to James Oglethorpe, Coweta, March 29, 1735, in CRG, 20:295– 6. 115. Cherekeileigie’s speech did not have the desired result. Mackay resolved to consider him a “rogue” and treat him accordingly. However, he was an infl uential rogue, and he and his brother still received blankets and two shirts (although not a jacket, as most headmen ordi- narily would) from the agent. 116. Talk with Chickasaws [partial], [n.d.], in Documents Pertaining to Georgia History, 1727–1779, Georgia Historical Society. 117. Talk of the Cherokee Emperor and others at Great Tellico, April 27, 1752, in DRIA, 1:256. 118. Choctaw Congress at Augusta, April 1, 1763, in MPAED, 241– 42. 119. Such statements were common among southeastern headmen. See also Talk of Lt. Governor Wright with Upper Creek, November 8, 1760, in CRG, 8:419; Talk between the Catawba and Governor Lyttelton and Council, August 24, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:334– 37. 120. Gearing, Priests and Warriors, 53. Gearing summarizes the ethos guiding the conduct of Cherokee men thus: “old equals good equals honor.” “Good meant artfully circumspect” (ibid., 60– 61). Young men lived within a system in which deference to older men was expected but that also allowed certain recognized releases from the expectation of deference, including wartime autonomy and aggression as well as ritualized ball plays. 121. Saunt, “Domestick . . . Quiet Being Broke,” 158; Hatley, Dividing Paths, 48– 50. 122. Journal of Th omas Bosomworth, November 8, 1752, DRIA, 1:319. Th omas Nairne re- ported that headmen could employ the term mad as a method of shaming individuals who did not go along with the decisions of the leadership. According to Nairne, this tactic could be quite eff ective; the censure of the town was often more than the recalcitrant individual could bear, and he would be “ashamed and comply very peaceably.” Nairne, Muskhogean Jour- nals, 33. 123. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, July 30, 1757, in DRIA, 2:393. 124. Meeting between Governor Ellis and Council and Chickasaw Headmen, April 14, 1757, in CRG, 7:540. 125. Minutes, April 24, 1759, in SCCJ, 28:86– 89, quote from 89. 126. Proceedings of the Council Concerning Indian Aff airs, June 2, 1753, in DRIA, 1:408. For a similar example, see Talk of Tistoe to Governor Lyttelton and Council, January 6, 1758, in SCCJ, 26(2):93– 96. 127. Hahn, Invention of the Creek Nation, 218– 25. 128. Congress at Pensacola, May 27, 1765, in MPAED, 191. Bernaby was commander in chief of the Gulf of Mexico, assisting in the English takeover of Pensacola. Similarly, in 1756, the South Carolina governor, William Henry Lyttelton, sent Daniel Pepper as agent to the Creek to resolve the issue of three Creek being killed by whites near the Ogeechee River. In- troducing the new agent to the headmen of the lower and upper nation, Lyttelton declared that Pepper was “a brave and valliant Warriour, who formerly commanded at Fort Moore” and that he had been specially chosen out of a great many qualifi ed others to show how sincerely South Carolina desired peace. Governor Lyttelton to the Headmen of the Upper and Lower Creek, September 20, 1756, in DRIA, 2:184. 129. See introduction. Representation and Petition of the Commons House of Assembly to the King, January 30, 1748, in SCJCHA ( January 19, 1748– June 29, 1748), 44–45. For a Notes to Pages 78–85 223 similar example, see Petition and Remonstrance of Sessions of Peace Oyer and Terminer, [November 1743], in SCCJ, 10:404– 6. 130. Speech of Governor Nicholson to Creek Indians, July 8, 1721, in JGCGT, 1:131– 33. 131. Fitch, “Journal,” 181; Journal of Tobias Fitch, read August 24, 1725, in SCCJ, 3:55. 132. Elizabeth Vibert has noted that in the early nineteenth century, British traders in the Pacifi c Northwest made a similar link between fi rearms and manhood. Paradoxically, the ac- quisition of fi rearms both marked native warriors as men and signifi ed their dependence on the English. Elizabeth Vibert, Traders’ Tales, 151, 260. 133. Jadart de Beauchamp’s journal, September 29, 1746, in MPAFD, 4:273. Interestingly, some Indian leaders would adopt similar rhetoric. In 1730, a group of Choctaw headmen pro- claimed their loyalty to the French, adding that “they would never forget that it was he [the king of France] who had made them men and rendered them formidable to their neighbors.” Governor Périer to Comptroller General Ory, November 15, [1730], in MPAFD, 4:53–56, quote from 53. Greg O’Brien has suggested that “such displays of humility are a common feature of American Indian diplomacy and served to ease intercultural communication and trade.” O’Brien, “Supplying Our Wants,” 74. 134. Conference of Governor Ellis and Tustanack-Hachoi (Okfuskee headman), July 30, 1757, in CRG, 7:613– 17, quote from 616. 135. Governor Lyttelton to the Lower and Middle Cherokee, September 26, 1758, in DRIA, 2:481. 136. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, January 12, 1757, in DRIA, 2:312. 137. Talk with the Cherokee, November 16, 1758, in SCCJ, 28:38– 40, quote from 40. 138. Conference of Governor Ellis with Creek Indians, April 21, 1757, in CRG, 7:546–47. Europeans struggled with the moral implications of off ering bounties for scalps at all. See Ax- tell and Sturtevant, “Th e Unkindest Cut.” 139. Gail Danvers has documented similar tactics further to the north in her study of Wil- liam Johnson’s relationship with the Iroquois. Danvers, “Gendered Encounters.” 140. Talk of Governor to Ammonscossittee, July 28, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:320–22, quote from 320. 141. Talk of Raymond Demere to Old Hopp and Upper Cherokee Headmen, January 25, 1757, in DRIA, 2:332. 142. Reply of Lt. Governor Wright to Creek, November 7, 1760, in CRG, 8:415. 143. Talk of Governor Ellis to the Creek, June 30, 1760, in CRG, 8:331. 144. Lt. Governor Wright’s answer to talk of Lower Creek, August 4, 1760, in CRG, 8:556. 145. Johnson, Dictionary of the English Language. 146. Governor Johnstone to Upper Creek, June 1766, in MPAED, 525. 147. Affi davit of Herman Geiger, May 11, 1751, in DRIA, 1:113. 148. Talk from Governor Martin to the Tallasee King and headmen and warriors of Upper and Lower Creek, July 19, 1782, in John Martin Papers, Georgia Historical Society, insertions in original.

3. “To Protect Them and Their Wives and Children” 1. Donagan, “Atrocity, War Crime, and Treason”; Vattel, Law of Nations, 282– 83; Grotius, Rights of War and Peace, 361–62. Th ese rules, and the tradition of limited warfare that fol- 224 Notes to Pages 85–87 lowed, developed in the wake of the religious wars of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. During these confl icts, brutal tactics had devastated European populations and led to eff orts to avoid such horrors in the future. Grenier, First Way of War, 89– 93. 2. Donagan, “Atrocity, War Crime, and Treason”; Grenier, First Way of War, 102– 14. 3. On the justifi cation of violating rules of warfare, see Canny, Elizabethan Conquest of Ire- land, esp. 122; Jones and Stallybrass, “Dismantling Irena,” esp. 161. Grotius maintained that the rules of war could be suspended if it was found necessary to strike terror into an enemy and prevent future crimes. Grotius, Rights of War and Peace, 363–64. Vattel argued, “When a sov- ereign is at war with a savage nation which observes no rules and never thinks of giving quar- ter he may punish the Nation in the person of those whom he captures (for they are among the guilty), and by such severity endeavor to make them observe the laws of humanity.” Vattel, Law of Nations, 280. 4. Grenier argues that “early Americans created a military tradition that accepted, legit- imized, and encouraged attacks upon and the destruction of noncombatants, villages, and agricultural resources. Most often, early Americans used the tactics and techniques of petite guerre in shockingly violent campaigns to achieve their goals of conquest. In the frontier wars between 1607 and 1814, Americans forged two elements—unlimited war and irregular war— into their fi rst way of war.” Grenier, First Way of War, 10. Other historians have noted the more brutal tactics that were utilized against Indians in America. See Ferling, A Wilderness of Mis- eries, esp. 20–21, 44–45. On justifi cations off ered for suspending the Law of Nations when fi ghting Indians, see Fenn, “Biological Warfare in Eighteenth- Century North America,” esp. 1573–76; Lepore, Name of War, 3– 18, 112– 13. 5. On rhetoric in New England defending English actions and vilifying Indians, see Le- pore, Name of War. 6. Edmund Atkins to Governor Horatio Sharpe of Maryland, June 30, 1757, excerpted in Atkins, Appalachian Indian Frontier, xxiv. On the practice of off ering scalp bounties, see Axtell and Sturtevant, “Th e Unkindest Cut”; Grenier, First Way of War, 39– 43. 7. Andrew Pickens to Major General Henry Lee, August 28, 1811, in Andrew Pickens Papers, South Caroliniana Library. 8. Dugaw, Female Soldier, and Warrior Women and Popular Balladry. See also Gustafson, “Genders of Nationalism”; Hiltner, “She Bled in Secret”; Young, Masquerade. 9. Norton, Liberty’s Daughters; Kerber, Women of the Republic. 10. DeBrahm, Report, 111. 11. Perdue, Cherokee Women, 86. 12. Barnwell, “Th e Tuscarora Expedition,” 32. 13. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 43. 14. Th is account must be interpreted carefully. Th e Catawba may have portrayed even their enemy’s women as warlike in order to emphasize to the visiting English the brutal nature of “Oustack” society. If they could frighten the English away from the “Oustack,” the Catawba hoped, then they themselves could monopolize the English trade. Lederer, Discoveries, 30. Douglas Rights and William Cumming identify the Ushery as Catawba, and the Oustack as Westo (or, following Swanton, as Yuchi). Rights and Cumming, “Th e Indians of Lederer’s Discoveries.” But see also Bowne, Westo Indians, 28– 30, 33– 34. Notes to Pages 87–89 225

15. DeBrahm, Report, 109. 16. Timberlake, Memoirs, 93– 94. 17. Alderman, Nancy Ward, 80. On Nancy Ward, see also Foreman, Indian Women Chiefs; McClary, “Nancy Ward: Th e Last Beloved Woman of the Cherokees”; Tucker, “Nancy Ward: Ghighau of the Cherokees.” It is worth noting that the source of Nancy Ward’s legend was her Anglo-American son-in-law, General Joseph Martin. On the one hand, Martin would have had access to Cherokee histories through his wife. On the other hand, though, the story as he later recorded it is distinctly reminiscent of the Anglo- American tradition of the war- rior woman. As Dianne Dugaw has shown, these women combined the masculine and femi- nine virtues of courage and love, often following lovers into battle. Nancy Ward fi ts neatly into this trope (although her subsequent political leadership does not). Th e Cherokee war woman therefore would have found a receptive audience among English and Anglo- American observ- ers and readers and would not have seemed entirely foreign. Dugaw further has shown that these white warrior women were frequently compared to Amazons or other famous women of Western history or mythology. Dugaw, Female Soldier, and Warrior Women and Popular Bal- ladry. Adair and Timberlake made use of this trope when writing of Cherokee women. Adair, History, 152, 418; Timberlake, Memoirs, 93– 94. In the late nineteenth century, James Mooney recorded the story of a woman who slew her husband’s killer during the American Revolution. Mooney, Myths of the Cherokee, 395. It is not clear if this story, recorded so long after colonization, refl ects native practice or the Anglo- American trope of the warrior woman. 18. Wood, “Th e Changing Population of the Colonial South.” 19. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 43. 20. Atkins, Appalachian Indian Frontier, 68. 21. Romans, Natural History, 75. 22. O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 30. 23. Timberlake, Memoirs, 82; Adair, History, 417– 22. 24. Speech of James Glen [1750], in James Glen Papers, South Caroliniana Library. 25. In only a few cases did torture appear to have included women. For example, during the Tuscarora War, desperate warriors under siege in their fort “put to death a girle of 8 years of Mr. Taylors.” Barnwell, “Th e Tuscarora Expedition,” 45. Similarly, in 1730, Governor Étienne Périer of Louisiana reported that the Natchez had burned “four men and two women” captured from the French. Governor Périer to Comte de Maurepas, August 1, 1730, in MPAFD, 4:37. 26. Swanton, “Early Account,” 54– 55. 27. Bowne, “A Bold and Warlike People,” 128; Dye, “Warfare in the Protohistoric South- east,” esp. 137; Richter, “War and Culture,” esp. 530– 37. 28. Lederer, Discoveries, 28. Lederer was probably correct in recognizing that the scalps of the enemies brought in by the warriors were those of women. Women and men in most native societies had diff erent hairstyles and facial tattoos, and their scalps would have appeared dif- ferent, especially as the warriors brought in the skin of the entire head and face. 29. Chicken, “Journal,” 103. Chicken further reported that two young “lads” from the Cher- okee town of Great Tellico went to the Kasihta (Lower Creek) town, where they “went into the Corn ffi elds Shot two Cowsaw Women and [took] their Scalps.” Ibid., 155. 226 Notes to Pages 90–92

30. John Stewart [to Queen Anne, October 1711?], quoted in Gallay, Indian Slave Trade, 188. 31. On the subject of revenge and war, see Reid, Better Kind of Hatchet, 9–12, and Law of Blood; Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 239– 42; Richter, “War and Culture,” esp. 529– 37. 32. John Fitch to George Cadogan, February 16, 1755, in DRIA, 2:36. 33. Among historians, Francis Jennings has most widely publicized the argument that pre- contact native peoples did not kill women and that Indians adopted the practice of unlimited warfare from Europeans. See Jennings, Invasion of America, 151, 212. Others have picked up this argument. See Hirsh, “Th e Collision of Military Cultures in Seventeenth Century New England”; Malone, Th e Skulking Way of War, esp. 106–7. For anthropology studies that make this suggestion, see Ferguson and Whitehead, War in the Tribal Zone. Archaeological research successfully disproves this theory. See Bridges, Jacobi, and Powell, “Warfare-Related Trauma”; Wilkinson, “Violence against Women”; Martin, “Violence against Women in the La Plata River Valley”; Milner, “Warfare in Prehistoric and Early Historic Eastern North America”; Milner, Anderson, and Smith, “Warfare in Late Prehistoric West- Central Illinois”; Smith, “ ‘Parry’ Fractures and Female- Directed Interpersonal Violence,” and “Beyond Palisades”; Wilkinson and Van Wagenen, “Violence against Women.” I thank Teresa Paglione, Lynne Sullivan, George Milner, and Maria Smith for these references. 34. Dye, “Warfare in the Protohistoric Southeast,” 137. 35. Pesantubbee, Choctaw Women, 34– 58, quote from 34. 36. Minutes, June 20, 1712, in JCIT, 27. 37. For English enslavement of Indians elsewhere in North America, see Newell, “Indian Slavery in Colonial New England.” On the meeting of two systems of enslavement, see Gallay, Indian Slave Trade, and introduction to Indian Slavery in Colonial America, 1– 32. 38. In Florida, the Spanish were able to access the labor of mission Indians through the repartimiento or through working with traditional chiefs to create a tributary exchange sys- tem in which labor traditionally owed to the chief was used to produce a surplus traded to the Spanish. On Spanish labor systems in Florida, see Bushnell, Situado and Sabana; Hoff man, Florida’s Frontiers; Weber, Spanish Frontier; Worth, “Spanish Missions.” In the Southwest, the Spanish found additional ways to obtain slaves. Just- war doctrines continued to allow the en- slavement of those people who fought against the Spanish. Raiding in order to take slaves was common. In addition, settlers abused the rescate, “ransoming” captives taken by Indian allies and then requiring that they work to pay off the cost of their redemption. On southwestern Spanish slavery, see Barr, “From Captives to Slaves,” and Peace Came in the Form of a Woman; Brooks, Captives and Cousins, esp. 123– 24; Gutiérrez, When Jesus Came, esp. 149–56, 180–90. 39. On French enslavement of Indians in various regions, see Barr, “From Captives to Slaves,” and Peace Came in the Form of a Woman; Demers, “Native- American Slavery and Ter- ritoriality”; Magnaghi, “Red Slavery in the Great Lakes Country,” and “Role of Indian Slavery in Colonial St. Louis”; Rushforth, “Slavery, the Fox Wars, and the Limits of Alliance,” and “A Little Flesh We Off er You.” 40. For analysis of English ideas of slavery and race, as well as the development of English slavery in the West Indies and South Carolina, see Davis, Problem of Slavery in Western Cul- ture; Jordan, White over Black; Wood, Black Majority; Dunn, Sugar and Slaves. 41. Grotius argued that while the Law of Nations allowed captors to do what they pleased Notes to Pages 93–95 227 with captives, “No one can be justly killed by design, except by way of legal punishment, or to defend our lives, and preserve our property, when it cannot be eff ected without his destruc- tion.” For those not guilty of a crime, Grotius recommended exchange or ransom. Grotius, Rights of War and Peace, 359. 42. Grotius noted that according to the Law of Nations, “It has long been a maxim, univer- sally received among the powers of Christendom, that prisoners of war cannot be made slaves, so as to be sold, or compelled to the hardships and labour attached to slavery.” Th e exclusion did not apply to non- Christians, however. Grotius, Rights of War and Peace, 346. 43. An anonymous French observer commented, “When they capture any young people, girls, women, or young boys alive, they carry them to their villages and make slaves of them.” Swanton, “Early Account,” 66– 67. 44. Bonnefoy, “Journal,” 242– 45. 45. Perdue, Slavery and the Evolution of Cherokee Society, 12; Richter, “War and Culture,” 533. 46. Bartram, Travels, 397– 98. 47. On slavery in native society, see Ethridge and Shuck-Hall, Mapping the Mississippian Shatter Zone; Gallay, Indian Slave Trade, 29; Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 253–57; Lauber, Indian Slavery in Colonial Times, 25– 44; Perdue, Slavery and the Evolution of Cherokee Society, 3– 18; Snyder, “Conquered Enemies, Adopted Kin, and Owned People,” and Slavery in Indian Country. 48. Swanton, “Early Account,” 66– 67. 49. Lawson, New Voyage, 201. In northern , slaves were also referred to as dogs. Joseph François Lafi tau, Customs of the American Indians, cited in Bowne, Westo Indians. Joseph Hall notes that among Muskhogean speakers, the word for slave, “este-upuekv,” can be translated literally as “domesticated animal-person.” Hall, “Apalachicola Eff orts to Sur- vive the Slave Trade,” 152. 50. Bartram, Travels, 164. 51. Lawson, New Voyage, 232. 52. Ibid., 58. Swanton identifi es the Sissipahaw as closely related to the Shakori. Th ey were early residents on the Santee River and may have joined the Catawba after their defeat in the Yamasee War. Th e Eno appear to have been a Siouan- speaking nation, closely allied with the Tutelo, Saponi, and Occaneechi. Swanton, Indians of the Southeastern United States, 130– 31, 186. 53. Lawson, New Voyage, 42. 54. Talk of Governor Lyttelton and Little Carpenter, April 12, 1758, in SCCJ, 26(2):159–66, quote from 164. For other examples of male slaves doing women’s work, see Kelton, Epidem- ics and Enslavement, 104. Th ere is evidence that southeastern people deliberately made male captives do women’s work as a means of degrading them. See Baszile, “Apalachee Testimony in Florida,” esp. 192; Bossy, “Indian Slavery in Southeastern Indian and British Societies,” esp. 214–15. 55. Th e Six Nations reported, “It has been a Custom among all the Indian Nations that when they come to sue for Peace they bring some Prisoners with them.” Albany Conference, July 6, 1751, in DRIA, 1:145. On the exchange of captives, particularly women, as an aspect of diplomacy, see Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman. 228 Notes to Pages 95–97

56. Colonel George Chicken to Arthur Middleton, August 30, 1725, in SCCJ, 3:117– 25, esp. 118– 19; Chicken, “Journal,” 115– 39. 57. Speech of Governor Glen to Council and Commons, [1750], in James Glen Papers, South Caroliniana Library. 58. Robbie Ethridge has argued that the introduction of European trade into the Eastern Woodlands resulted in the formation of “militaristic Indian slaving societies” that sought to control trade and in the process caused widespread dislocation among other peoples. Ethridge, “Creating the Shatter Zone,” and introduction to Ethridge and Shuck- Hall, Mapping the Mis- sissippian Shatter Zone, 1– 62. 59. Paul Kelton argues that the slave trade introduced much of the interior to epidemic diseases. Kelton, Epidemics and Enslavement, and “Shattered and Infected.” Kelton’s thesis is controversial, and many scholars argue that disease was introduced much earlier. 60. See Gallay, Indian Slave Trade; Kelton, Epidemics and Enslavement; Lauber, “Indian Slavery”; Snell, “Indian Slavery in Colonial South Carolina”; Friedlander, “Indian Slavery in Proprietary South Carolina”; Wright, Only Land Th ey Knew, 126– 50. 61. Crane, Southern Frontier; Gallay, Indian Slave Trade; Oatis, Colonial Complex; Ramsey, Yama see War ; Schrager, “Yamasee Indians.” 62. Smith, “Aboriginal Population Movements in the Postcontact Southeast.” 63. Crane, Southern Frontier; Gallay, Indian Slave Trade; Oatis, Colonial Complex; Ramsey, Yama see War ; Schrager, “Yamasee Indians”; Boyd, Here Th ey Once Stood; Hann, Apalachee. 64. On native construction of palisades and other fortifi cations, see Bridges, Jacobi, and Powell, “Warfare- Related Trauma”; Dye, “Warfare in the Protohistoric Southeast”; Jones, Armor, Shields, and Fortifi cations; Larson, “Functional Considerations of Warfare”; Lee, “For- tify, Fight, or Flee”; Milner, “Warfare in Prehistoric and Early Historic Eastern North Amer- ica,” 118– 20; Steinen, “Ambushes, Raids, and Palisades”; Vogel and Allen, “Mississippian For- tifi cations at Moundville,” 62– 63. 65. Todd, “Historical Introduction,” 83; Lee, “Fortify, Fight, or Flee”; Oatis, Colonial Com- plex, 178, 201, 207, 236. 66. Jones, Armor, Shields, and Fortifi cations, 131– 32; Larson, “Functional Considerations”; Lee, “Fortify, Fight, or Flee.” 67. Bland et al., “Discovery of New Brittaine,” 8. For a similar example from a later date, see Talk of Kanagatoga to Capt. Raymond Demere, October 26, 1756, in DRIA, 2:236. Armstrong Starkey has indicated that Indians responded to new European ways of war by simply aban- doning their villages and taking to the woods, especially when faced with a sizable European force. Starkey, European and Native American Warfare, 23– 24. In some cases, native groups might have sought refuge among their neighbors as an alternative tactic. In 1757, the Cherokee, frustrated by what they saw as continual encroachments on their land and broken promises by the English (especially with regard to the newly built Fort Loudoun), “demanded Assistance of the Creeks, and a Place of Safety for their Wives and Children, in case of a Repulse.” Daniel Pepper to Raymond Demere, June 27, 1757, in DRIA, 2:390. 68. Lee, “Fortify, Fight, or Flee,” 752– 53. 69. D’Artaguiette, “Journal,” 32. 70. Jadart de Beauchamp to Comte de Maurepas, November 5, 1731, in MPAFD, 4:78–84, Notes to Pages 98–100 229 quote from 80. Similarly, when the Chickasaw anticipated an attack by the Nottoways in 1750, they “went toward the River in a Body, having their Women in the Middle.” Th e tactic seems to have been eff ective, and no shots were fi red. Deposition of Stephen Creagh, March 22, 1750, in DRIA, 1:14. 71. Minutes, July 28, 1711, in JCIT, 11. 72. Minutes, August 19, 1713, in JCIT, 49. 73. Le Jau, Carolina Chronicle, 78. 74. Minutes, September 21, 1710, in JCIT, 4. 75. Minutes, July 28, 1711, in JCIT, 12. 76. Proprietors to Governor Morton and Council, September 30, 1683, in BPRO-SC, 1:255– 63, quote from 258. Th e Proprietors also complained of the war against the Waniah, which led to “Inocent women & Children Barberously murdered taken & sent to be sold as slaves.” Ibid., 259. 77. Minutes, June 10 and 12, 1712, in JCIT, 26. Th e reason that Toolodeha, a Chenehaw Indian, was sold by the Kasihta is unclear. Th e Chenehaw (more commonly known as the ) were a group of Hitchiti speakers who had moved to live among the Lower Creek. Kelton, Epidemics and Enslavement, 207; Swanton, Indians of the Southeastern United States, 115–16. It is interesting to note that Toolodeha’s mother was represented as being Tuskenehau’s slave. It is likely that both women were captives and that Toolodeha had been adopted by the Chenehaw (perhaps upon her marriage), while her mother had not been. Th e women’s captive status may have made them more vulnerable to sale as slaves. Th e continued status of Toolo- deha’s mother as a slave led to the commissioners’ decision that she remain a slave, and they only required that the town compensate Tuskenehau for her monetary value. 78. Richard Prize, will dated May 19, 1707, Records of the Secretary of the Province, Will Book, transcriptions, South Carolina Department of Archives and History, 90–91. Prize did not ever marry this unnamed Indian woman, nor did he leave her any property except for two Indian slaves. He selected a white couple, James and Elizabeth Paretree, as his children’s guardians. Th ere is no record of where the children’s mother went after gaining her freedom or of how she felt about having her children taken away from her. 79. Mary DeLonguemare, will dated October 29, 1712, South Caroliniana Library. 80. Minutes, May 28, 1692, in JGCSC, 2:31. 81. Wright, Only Land Th ey Knew, 258– 61. 82. For example, in 1720, Robert Seabrook left his wife Mary fourteen slaves, including eight “negroes,” two Indian women, an Indian boy, and two “mustee girls.” Robt. Seabrook, will dated September 22, 1720, in Records of the Secretary of the Province, Will Book, transcrip- tions, South Carolina Department of Archives and History, 130– 33. Th e following year, Abra- ham Fleurs de la Plaine left his brother Isaac four “negro” slaves, along with an Indian woman and her four “mustee” children. Abraham Fleurs de la Plaine, will dated August 2, 1721, in ibid., 167–68. Th e South Carolina Council records also mention several “mustee” slaves involved in a suspected slave conspiracy in 1748. Minutes, January 24, 27, 30, 31, and February 1, 2–4, and 6– 8, 1748, in SCCJ, 17:47– 53, 58– 102, 110– 11, 115– 52, 159– 69, 179. 83. Snell, “Indian Slavery,” 114– 17. Snell notes that Indian slavery was fi nally offi cially banned in 1740, although it had long been uncommon. 230 Notes to Pages 100–103

84. Claudio Saunt argues that the existence of black slavery also raised concerns among the Creek. Saunt, “Th e English Has Now a Mind.” 85. Mankiller of Hiwassee’s answer to Captain Raymond Demere, September 27, 1756, in DRIA, 2:221. Such fears were commonplace. For similar examples, see Answer of Lt. Col. Al- exander Heron to a speech made by Malatchi, December 7, 1747, in CRG, 27:198; Affi davit of David Dowey, May 25, 1751, in DRIA, 1:57. 86. Lachlan McGillivray to Patrick Graham, November 9, 1754, in CRG, 7:39– 40. 87. Pesantubbee, Choctaw Women, 34– 58. 88. Speech of Governor Craven to Commons, May 6, 1715, in CHJ, 4:388– 89. 89. Ann Little demonstrates that there was a similar concern for “domestic safety and secu- rity” in New England in the seventeenth century. Little, Abraham in Arms, 22– 23. 90. Lord Ashley to Sir John Yeamans, September 18, 1671, in Cheves, Shaftesbury Papers, 343. Leading settlers like Governor Joseph West also built palisades around their own homes, in the expectation that their plantations would serve as places of refuge in case of attack. Jo- seph West to Sir George Carteret, March 2, 1670/71, in ibid., 269–71. On early South Carolina fortifi cations, see Crane, Southern Frontier; Ivers, Colonial Forts in South Carolina, 1. Charles Town would later be relocated, and in 1708 a more substantial earthwork outpost named Fort Johnson was constructed to guard the entrance to the harbor. Ivers, Colonial Forts, 5– 6. 91. Th e province thereafter created a series of these frontier forts to protect the perimeters of the settlements. Ivers, Colonial Forts, 6– 8. 92. Christopher Gale to an unnamed sibling, November 2, 1711, in CRNC, 1:825–27. See also Graff enried, Account of the Founding of New Bern. 93. Petition of the Inhabitants of Williamsbourgh, April 14, 1745, in SCCJ, 14(2):56–58. See also Minutes, April 16, 1746, in SCJCHA (September 10, 1745– June 17, 1746), 191– 98. After the Yamasee War, South Carolina maintained a series of forts to protect the frontier, the most important of which was Fort Moore at Savannah Town (near present-day Augusta, Georgia), built in 1715. Nevertheless, during wartime settlers would build frontier forts with palisades at prominent plantations. Ivers, Colonial Forts. 94. Memorial of Christopher Gale to Robert Gib[b]s, Governor and Assembly of South Carolina, [1711], in CRNC, 1:827– 29, quote from 828. 95. Stephen Crell and Daniel SeLeider to Governor Glen and Council, May, 1751, in SCCJ, 18(1, 2nd journal):76– 79, quote from 77. 96. Bland et al., “Discovery of New Brittaine,” 10. 97. Fitch, “Journal,” 193. 98. Ibid., 211. 99. King and Headmen of the Savannah to Governor Glen, September 25, 1755, in DRIA, 2:90; Minutes, January 16, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:64. 100. Lauber, “Indian Slavery,” 48– 49, 65– 67, 264– 75. 101. On the problem of English captivity among “barbarians,” see Colley, Captives. 102. Th e English in the southern colonies may have been particularly sensitive to the threat of “slavery” because of their own experiences with widespread chattel slavery in the region. Nevertheless, even in regions in which slavery was not common, the English utilized language that refl ected their own notions of the subordination of prisoners. Ann Little has noted that Notes to Pages 103–107 231 in New England, English captives frequently referred to their Indian “masters” (or sometimes “mistresses”), even in cases in which they had clearly been adopted. Th is language refl ected more about their own ideas of patriarchal household government than Indian notions of cap- tivity and adoption. Little, Abraham in Arms, 110– 11. 103. Petition of William Struthers, in Minutes, January 16, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:64. 104. Timberlake, Memoirs, 65– 66. 105. Minutes, December 9, 1717, in JCIT, 239. 106. Report of the Committee regarding a petition of Charles McNaire, May 23, 1749, in SCJCHA (March 28, 1749–March 19, 1750), 178–83; Minutes, March 13, 1750, in ibid., 456; At- kins, Revolt of the Chactaw, 28, 37– 39, 73, 87. 107. Neuwirth, “Her Master’s Voice,” esp. 64– 66. 108. Block, Rape and Sexual Power in Early America, 218– 30, quote from 224. 109. Adair, History, 172. 110. Romans, Natural History, 87. 111. Minutes, July 5, 1742, in SCCJ, 8:98– 99. 112. Nicholas Noey’s Declaration, April 7, 1753, in DRIA, 1:374–75; quote from Governor Glen to Governor Hamilton of Pennsylvania, October 3, 1753, in ibid., 463. 113. Alexander Spotswood, quoted in Todd, “Historical Introduction,” 82. 114. Commissioners to William Waties, December 10, 1716, in JCIT, 138. 115. Proceedings of the Council Concerning Indian Aff airs, June 18, 1753, in DRIA, 1:429. 116. Adair, History, 307. 117. President and Assistants to Benjamin Martyn, July 25, 1750, in CRG, 26:38– 39. 118. Petition of the Inhabitants of Anson County, North Carolina, April 7, 1752, in SCCJ, 20(1):147– 49, quote from 148. 119. Similar developments arose in other colonies. Jane Merritt has argued that by the 1760s, diff erences between natives and Europeans increasingly came to be “characterized by race.” She writes, “Th e hybrid nature of frontier life, and competition for resources, and the tension of an imperial war had engendered a nationalist sentiment among both white and Indian populations.” She suggests that “racial rhetoric emerged by 1763 to displace the nu- anced interactions that had previously characterized relations between native Americans and white settlers in Pennsylvania.” Merritt, At the Crossroads, 4, 10. Gregory Evans Dowd has argued that Pontiac’s War confronted both colonists and British offi cials with the question of what status Indians should have in the empire. Both were reluctant to call Indians Brit- ish subjects, an designation that carried with it certain concepts of rights. Dowd, War under Heaven, 174–75. 120. On sentimentalism or sensibility in travel and other colonial American writing in the eighteenth century, see Pratt, Imperial Eyes; Julie Ellison, Cato’s Tears and the Making of Anglo- American Emotion. Peter Silver calls the development of this increasingly sentimental rheto- ric of threatened families the “anti-Indian sublime.” As he explains, “Th e anti- Indian sublime’s thematic hallmarks were its habit of always describing society, so far as it was the setting for the ‘melancholly Scene[s] . . . acted’ in Indian warfare, as a set of little families; an emphasis on the ripping apart of these families, as husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters were made spouseless, parentless, and childless; and an obsession with the helplessness before 232 Notes to Pages 108–110 attack of mothers and infants, especially when twinned in pregnant women.” He documents a similar shift in rhetoric in the mid- Atlantic colonies during the French and Indian War. Silver, Our Savage Neighbors, 83– 84. 121. Proceedings of the Council Concerning Indian Aff airs, July 7, 1753, including a meeting with Cherokee, in DRIA, 1:452– 53. 122. Anderson, Crucible of War; Boulware, “Th e Eff ect of the Seven Years’ War on the Cherokee Nation”; Corkran, Carolina Indian Frontier, and Cherokee Frontier; Hatley, Divid- ing Paths; Oliphant, Peace and War on the Anglo-Cherokee Frontier; Perdue, Cherokee Women; Ward , Breaking the Backcountry. 123. Talk of Lieutenant Wall to the Tellico Indians, January 11, 1757, in DRIA, 2:318. 124. Elizabeth Vibert has demonstrated the emergence of a distinctly masculine discourse among English traders surrounding the building of forts in the Columbia Plateau region in the early nineteenth century. By that time, she argues, traders like Alexander Ross were able to argue that Indians were even “soothed” by the assertion of British power that a substantial fortress represented, while taking pride in the triumph of “civilization over barbarism” that it represented. Vibert, Traders’ Tales, 107. 125. William Byrd, quoted in Todd, “Historical Introduction,” 78. 126. Instructions for Capt. William Hatton, July 19, 1718, in JCIT, 311– 12. 127. Chicken, “Journal,” 146, insertion in Mereness. 128. Minutes, August 9, 1727, in SCCJ, 4:43– 44. Th ree decades later, however, the situa- tion had changed somewhat. In 1756, fearing a rupture between the English and the Creek, the band requested “to have one or two fortifi cations or entrenchments as near the Fort as Pos- sible where the Women and Children may be Secure.” Letters from Justices of Augusta (David Douglass, John Rae, and Martin Campbell) to Governor Reynolds and Council, recorded in Council Minutes, September 15, 1756, in CRG, 7:392– 401, quote from 394. Edward Cashin notes that the settlers around Augusta still depended upon the Chickasaw for defense at this time and the Chickasaw off ered their support. However, they also requested additional forti- fi cations, indicating that the ability of the men to protect the women and children and go to war was somewhat reduced. Cashin, Guardians of the Valley, 98. 129. Westmorland, J. Chelwynd, Cha. Cooke, P. Doeminique, and Martin Bladen to Board of Trade, August 30, 1720, in BPRO-SC, 8:94– 100. On the building of Fort Toulouse, see Crane, Southern Frontier, 185, 256; Wright, Creeks & Seminoles. 130. Piker, Okfuskee, 31– 37; Ivers, British Drums, 45. 131. Upper House to Commons, June 9, 1747, in SCJCHA (September 10, 1746– June 13, 1747), 339. 132. Representation of Governor Glen on the state of Indian aff airs, September 1, 1752, in SCCJ, 20(2):371– 74. 133. Report of the committee of conference on Indian aff airs, April 8, 1748, in SCCJ-UH, 16:92– 93; also in SCJCHA ( January 19, 1748–June 29, 1748), 174– 75. 134. For similar examples, see Talk of Captain Raymond Demere to Kanagatoga and At- takullakulla, June 30, 1756, in DRIA, 2:128; Raymond Demere to Mankiller of Hiwassee, Sep- tember 27, 1756, in DRIA, 2:220; Talk of Lieutenant Wall to the Tellico Indians, January 11, 1757, in DRIA, 2:318. Th e English also off ered protection to the Creek using the same kind of Notes to Pages 110–113 233 rhetoric, although this off er was rejected. See Talk of Governor Lyttelton to the Creek, Febru- ary 1, 1758, in SCCJ, 26:113– 20. 135. Governor Glen to Attakullakulla, February 17, 1756, in DRIA, 2:99; Governor Glen to Attakullakulla, February 25, 1756, in ibid., 2:101. For a similar example, see Governor Lyttelton to Kanagatoga, June 3, 1756, in ibid., 2:115. 136. Ann Little has suggested that in both native and English society, political power was “built upon demonstrated military prowess.” By questioning the military ability of native men (and consequently their masculinity), the English also questioned their right to political power and self-rule. Little, Abraham in Arms, 14–15. 137. Talk of Governor Lyttelton to Gun Merchant and Creek headmen, January 12, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:45– 48, quote from 47. 138. Talk of Gun Merchant to Governor Lyttelton and Council, January 13, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:48– 53, quote from 51. 139. Talk of Gun Merchant to Governor Lyttelton and Council, January 15, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:55– 60; Headmen of Upper Creek to Governor Lyttelton, August 9, 1756, in DRIA, 2:153– 54. 140. Daniel Pepper to Governor Lyttelton, December 21, 1756, in DRIA, 2:298. 141. Creek Conference, February 1, 1758, in SCCJ, 26(2):113– 20, quote from 116. 142. Atkins, Appalachian Indian Frontier, 51, insertion by Jacobs. According to English records, several Indian groups seem to have accepted that the forts were being built to protect their families. It is possible, of course, that the English were putting words in the headmen’s mouths to justify their own building of forts. Nonetheless, several examples over several years, produced under the administration of two diff erent governors, demonstrate a certain consis- tency of rhetoric. Attakullakulla reportedly asked Virginia to build a fort for him “for the pro- tection of their Women & Children.” Minutes, July 23, 1756, in SCCJ, 25: 315–17, quote from 316. For similar examples, see Governor Lyttelton to Kanagatoga, June 3, 1756, in DRIA, 2:115; DeBrahm, Report, 101; Talk of King Hagler (Catawba) to Governor Lyttelton and Council, August 24, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:334–37; Talk of Lieutenant Wall to the Tellico Indians, Janu- ary 11, 1757, in DRIA, 2:318; Talk of King Hagler to Governor Lyttelton and Council, April 24, 1759, in SCCJ, 28:87; Minutes, September 14, 1768, in SCCJ, 34:248. 143. For example, in 1754, the Cherokee trader James Beamer reported that an advance group of French Indians killed “two Women in a Corn Field over the River of Chote.” Exam- ination of James Beamer by Governor Glen and Council, [1754], in DRIA, 1:517. Two years later, Captain Raymond Demere reported that “an old Cherrockee Woman and a young Girl were lately killed and scalped by the Enemies within a Mile of Great Tellico.” Captain Ray- mond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, July 2, 1756, in DRIA, 2:131. 144. Th e Articles of Friendship signed in England in 1730 required the Cherokee to join in any confl ict against Britain’s enemies. Cuming, “Account of the Cherrokee Indians,” 14– 17. 145. Talk of Kanagatoga to Raymond Demere, November 16, 1756, in DRIA, 2:248. 146. Governor Lyttelton to Creek headmen, July 3, 1756, in DRIA, 2:121. On the subject of fi ctive kinship ties, see Shoemaker, “An Alliance between Men.” 147. Hatley, Dividing Paths, 96; Ward, Breaking the Backcountry, 195. 148. Little Carpenter’s speech to Capt. Raymond Demere, July 13, 1756, in DRIA, 2:137–38. 149. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, October 13, 1756, in DRIA, 2:216–17. 234 Notes to Pages 113–119

150. Ibid., 2:217. 151. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, August 21, 1756, in DRIA, 2:164. 152. On the construction of Fort Loudoun, see Louis De Vorsey’s introduction to De- Brahm, Report, 19– 24. 153. On the Cherokee War, see Anderson, Crucible of War; Corkran, Cherokee Frontier; Hatley, Dividing Paths; Oliphant, Peace and War on the Anglo- Cherokee Frontier. 154. In 1757, four Cherokee were killed near an illegal English settlement on Long Canes Creek, although no one seems to have been able to determine who committed the murders. James Francis to William Henry Lyttelton, December 23, 1757, in DRIA, 2:425– 26. 155. Minutes, April 17, 1759, including talk of Governor Glen and Little Carpenter, in SCCJ, 28:77–80; Richardson, Diary, January 24, 1759, South Caroliniana Library, 26. See also Hatley, Dividing Paths, 99– 101; Corkran, Cherokee Frontier, 150– 52. 156. Corkran, Cherokee Frontier, 168– 71. 157. Hatley, Dividing Paths, 113–29; Corkran, Cherokee Frontier, 178– 206; Oliphant, Peace and War on the Anglo- Cherokee Frontier, 69– 112. 158. William Henry Lyttelton to Board of Trade, September 1, 1759, in BPRO- SC, 28:209. 159. William Henry Lyttelton to Board of Trade, October 16, 1759, copy of Maurice Ander- son to Lt. Coytmore, September 12, 1759, copy of Paul Demere to William Henry Lyttelton, September 13, 1759, in BPRO-SC, 28:243– 49, 250– 51, 251– 54, quotes from 248, 254. 160. Captain John Stuart to William Henry Lyttelton, September 26, 1759, in BPRO-SC, 28:257– 61, quote from 258. 161. William Henry Lyttelton to Board of Trade, October 16, 1759, in BPRO-SC, 28:243– 49, quote from 247. 162. Historical Chronicle [London], “News from South Carolina,” October 18, 1760, 329, copy at the South Caroliniana Library; ibid., [1760], 605– 6. 163. Corkran, Cherokee Frontier, 221. 164. Minutes, September 17, 1761, in SCJCHA, cited in Corkran, Cherokee Frontier, 258–59.

4. Guns and Garters 1. Etienne and Leacock, introduction to Women and Colonization, 1–24; Fiske, “Coloniza- tion and the Decline of Women’s Status”; Perry, “Th e Fur Trade and the Status of Women in the Western Subarctic”; Wright, “Economic Development and Native American Women.” 2. Braund, “Guardians of Tradition,” and Deerskins and Duff els; Carson, Searching for the Bright Path, and “From Corn Mothers to Cotton Spinners”; Hatley, “Cherokee Women Farm- ers Hold Th eir Ground”; Perdue, Cherokee Women, and “Women, Men, and American Indian Policy.” For studies that have sought to revise the declension narrative for regions outside the Southeast, see Foster, “Of Baggage and Bondage”; Murphy, “Autonomy and the Economic Roles of Indian Women of the Fox- River Region”; Shoemaker, introduction to Negotiators of Change, 1– 26, and “Th e Rise or Fall of Iroquois Women”; Susan Sleeper- Smith, Indian Women and French Men. 3. On the Indian trade in the Southeast, see Braund, Deerskins and Duff els; Hatley, Divid- ing Paths; Haan, “Th e ‘Trade Do’s Not Flourish as Formerly’ ”; Reid, A Better Kind of Hatchet; Daniel Usner, Indians, Settlers, and Slaves; White, Roots of Dependency; Wright, Only Land Th ey Knew. Notes to Pages 120–124 235

4. Th omas Nairne to Robert Fenwick, April 13, 1708, in Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 57. 5. Edmund Atkins to Governor Ellis, January 25, 1760, in Britt and Dees, Selected Eigh- teenth Century Manuscripts, 142. 6. O’Brien, “Trying to Look like Men,” 52. 7. Th omas Jones to James Oglethorpe, May 13, 1741, in CRG, 23:39. 8. Talk of the Cherokee Towns to Governor Glen, May 6, 1751, in DRIA, 1:172–73, inser- tions in DRIA. James Taylor Carson has demonstrated the value of horses to eighteenth- century Choctaw men and women. Men utilized horses for warfare and hunting. Women re- lied on horses to transport game and skins home and to carry provisions on long trips. Carson, “Horses and the Economy and Culture of the Choctaw.” See also Morgan, “Earliest Historic Chickasaw Horse Raids.” 9. Congress at Pensacola, May 28, 1765, in MPAED, 201– 2. 10. Journal of Col. Stephens, November 12, 1739, in CRG, 4:451. Th e advantage of guns was that bullets fl ew faster and were less easily defl ected than arrows. Further, a warrior could fi re more than one bullet at once when using swan shot, which made the weapon more deadly. Malone, Skulking Way of War, 39. 11. Historians disagree about when Indians became dependent upon European goods. Some, such as Stephen C. Hahn, argue that Indians became dependent on the trade before the Yamasee War. Others argue that dependency did not become a problem until later and that it was never complete. Hahn, “Th e Mother of Necessity”; Haan, “Th e ‘Trade Do’s Not Flourish as Formerly’ ”; Van Hoak, “Untangling the Roots of Dependency”; White, Roots of Dependency. 12. Crane, Southern Frontier, 17– 21; Bowne, Westo Indians. 13. A 1718 trade schedule listed the cost of a hatchet at two deerskins, and a pound of ver- million at sixteen deerskins. Instructions to [Colonel George] Chicken and others, April 23, 1718, in JCIT, 269. 14. Gregory A. Waselkov argues, “Th e single largest category comprises items of cloth that made up the bulk of the trade.” Waselkov, “Eighteenth- Century Anglo- Indian Trade in South- eastern North America,” 200. 15. D’Artaguiette, “Journal,” 57– 58; Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 258– 69, 272– 89. 16. On composition of punch, see Petition of Archibald McGilvray, January 22, 1744/ 45, in SCCJ- UH, 13:18– 20. 17. Romans, Natural History, 81. William Bartram recounts a similar case, and may in fact have borrowed the story from Romans. Bartram, Travels, 214– 15. Ishii Izumi has claimed the women did not usually drink alcohol unless traders pressured them to do so. However, as Bartram’s story illustrates, the documentary record suggests otherwise. Ishii, Bad Fruits of the Civilized Tree, 34. 18. Lawson, New Voyage, 203. 19. Talk with the Chickasaw [partial], [n.d.], in Documents Pertaining to Georgia History, 1727– 79, Georgia Historical Society. 20. Proclamation by William Bull, December 16, 1743, in SCCJ, 10:449– 51. 21. On methods of food preparation, see Swanton, Indians of the Southeastern United States, 351–81. On the use of baskets in cooking, see Hill, Weaving New Worlds, 49– 55. 22. Brass kettles were included among some of the earliest goods carried to the Indian na- tions in the Carolina region. Henry Woodward carried six dozen of these items, worth 919.4, 236 Notes to Pages 124–128 to the Indian nations in 1674. Henry Woodward’s Account Book, 1674, South Carolina De- partment of Archives and History. Kettles were often among the goods specifi cally requested by native headmen when they visited colonial governors. Visiting Charles Town in 1758, Wolf, headman of the Creek town of Mucklassa, requested that the parcel of gifts he expected from the governor include these items. Minutes, February 1, 1758, in SCCJ, 26:113– 20. 23. Bartram, Travels, 401. 24. Adair, History, 456. 25. Ibid., 452. Other late- eighteenth- century travelers noted similar details. Romans, Natural History, 96; Martin Schneider, “Bro. Martin Schneider’s Report of his Journey to the Upper Cherokee Towns (1783– 84),” in Williams, Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 257. 26. James Taylor Carson has argued that Choctaw women continued to produce pottery, lim- iting their use of European manufactures. Carson, “From Corn Mothers to Cotton Spinners.” 27. Lieutenant Louboey to Comte de Maurepas, November 6, 1745, in MPAFD, 4:255. Th e following year, a Choctaw headman warned his countrymen not to throw off their allegiance to the French. Without the French, he predicted, the Choctaw would “see themselves forced to take again their ancient weapons (that is the bow and arrow), a sorry resource . . . for those who have a family to nourish and support.” Beauchamp, “Journal,” 269. 28. Memorial of Robert Bunning and others, November 22, 1751, in DRIA, 1:149. 29. Chickasaw headmen and Warriors to Governor Glen, in letter from John Buckles to Governor Glen, June 26, 1754, in DRIA, 1:512. 30. Talk of the Chickasaw Warriors to Governor Lyttelton, [1758], in DRIA, 2:460. 31. Daniel Pepper to Governor Lyttelton, May 25, 1757, in DRIA, 2:379. 32. Talk of William Gerard DeBrahm to the Prince of Chote, February 6, 1757, in DRIA, 2:336. 33. Headmen of the Lower Creek to Governor Lyttelton, September 17, 1756, in DRIA, 2:191. 34. Beauchamp, “Journal,” 265. 35. Governor Wright and Council to Creek Nation, sent July 30, in Minutes of August 4, 1767, in CRG, 10:277– 78. 36. Governor Lyttelton’s talk to the Cherokee, February 1, 1757, in SCCJ, 26:18–27, quote from 25. 37. On views of native women as industrious, see d’Artaguiette, “Journal,” 58; Swanton, “Early Account,” 59; Romans, Natural History, 41, 62. 38. Talk of Governor Ellis to Upper and Lower Creek Headmen, November 3, 1757, in CRG, 7:660. Th e governor appears to be talking about more than simply gifts here. Gifts alone would not have provided necessities for the Creek. By emphasizing presents, however, the governor was claiming greater English benevolence than was really the case, hoping to se- cure Creek gratitude. 39. Reply of Governor Wright to Emistesegoe, September 5, 1768, in CRG, 10:571– 72. 40. James Merrell has demonstrated that both Indian and white women engaged in trade in the Pennsylvania backcountry. Native women accompanied hunting and trading expedi- tions, and some traded on their own behalf, even traveling to frontier communities to trade. Merrell, “Th e Other ‘Susquahannah Traders.’ ” 41. Council to the Proprietors, September 9, 1670, in Cheves, Shaftesbury Papers, 178. Notes to Pages 128–130 237

42. Commissary General Jean- Baptiste DuBois Duclos to Secretary of State for Marine Jérôme de Pontchartrain, enclosed with letter of Sieur Duclos of October 25, 1713, in MPAFD, 2:107. 43. On granaries, see Worth, “Spanish Missions”; Wesson, “Chiefl y Power and Food Stor- age.” In adjacent regions, chiefs in the historic period had greater control over surplus food supplies. Helen Rountree has found that among the Powhatan Indians of Virginia, the chief received a tribute of corn and other supplies from subject populations, had his fi elds planted fi rst, and bore the responsibility for providing public feasts. Rountree, Powhatan Indians of Virginia, 109–12. In Florida, chiefs retained greater control of land, labor, and surpluses than in other areas of the Southeast, in part because of their incorporation into the mission sys- tem. Chiefs presided over a tributary exchange system in which surplus food was traded to the Spanish for European goods and military support. Worth, “Spanish Missions.” Further, gra- naries continued to serve a public purpose, as some tribes planted a communal fi eld to provide food for those who could not supply themselves and to store up food for hard times. Bushnell, “Ruling ‘the Republic of Indians,’ ” esp. 202– 3. 44. Bartram also noted that the chief was “complimented with the fi rst fruits.” Bartram, Observations, 24, 40. 45. Cameron B. Wesson demonstrates that during the Atasi Phase (1550–1715), most do- mestic structures lacked food storage facilities. Household storage developed later, during the Talapoosa Phase (1715– 1832). Th is transition, he suggests, indicates an overall decline in chiefl y power. Wesson, “Chiefl y Power and Food Storage,” and Households and Hegemony. 46. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 60. 47. On the meeting of gift-exchange cultures and commodities-exchange cultures, see Mal- lios, Deadly Politics of Giving, 25– 36. 48. Lawson, New Voyage, 49. 49. Other food items likely produced by women but traded to Europeans in the eighteenth century included “dried venison hams, hickory nut oil and bear oil (often transported in deer- skin bags), chestnuts, ground peas, and corn.” Waselkov, “Eighteenth-Century Anglo-Indian Trade,” 202. 50. On women’s production of baskets, see Hill, Weaving New Worlds. Tom Hatley has argued that baskets were one of the most costly trade items the Cherokee sold to the English. Hatley, Dividing Paths, 33. Gregory Waselkov lists a number of other native goods (likely pro- duced by women) that were traded to Europeans in the eighteenth century Southeast: “bees- wax, medicinal barks and roots, split cane baskets (sifters and fanners), woven and beaded belts and garters, [and] horse ropes or halters made of twisted elm (wahoo) bark or silk grass.” Waselkov, “Eighteenth-Century Anglo-Indian Trade,” 202. 51. Minutes, November 1, 16, and 23, 1716, in JCIT, 120, 128– 29. In 1717, Joseph Th ompson of Savannah brought a number of deerskins and Indian baskets to the Charles Town store- keeper. Minutes, January 23, 1716/ 17, in JCIT, 149. 52. Inventory of John Herbert, June 15, 1733, in SCMR, vol. CC (Inventories, 1732– 36), 43–46. On southeastern basketry and the Indian trade, see Hill, Weaving New Worlds, 55–60. George Smith of Berkeley County also owned a number of baskets of varying sizes. Inven- tory of George Smith of Berkeley County, [1734], in SCMR, vol. CC (Inventories, 1732– 36), 238 Notes to Pages 130–134

168– 74. Th e inventory of his estate additionally included one Indian slave woman. It is un- certain whether he acquired the baskets through trade or the Indian slave woman produced them while in his household. 53. Brickell, Natural History, 349. 54. Adair, History, 456. 55. Braund, “Guardians of Tradition,” 244, and Deerskins and Duff els, 68. On the treatment of skins, see Romans, Natural History, 96; Lawson, New Voyage, 208– 9. 56. Perdue, Cherokee Women, 71– 72. 57. Minutes, November 1, 16, 22 and 24, 1716, and June 17, 1717, in JCIT, 121, 125–28, 131, 190– 91, quotes from 127 and 128. 58. Talk of Raven of Euphersee, May 14, 1751, in DRIA, 1:74– 75. 59. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, October 26, 1756, in DRIA, 2:231. 60. Usner, Indians, Settlers, and Slaves. 61. Hatley, Dividing Paths, 89– 90. 62. Merrell, “Th e Other ‘Susquahannah Traders,’ ” 208. 63. Intelligence from Indian Nancy to Captain Raymond Demere, December 12, 1756, in DRIA, 2:269. 64. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, October 28, 1756, in DRIA, 2:233. 65. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, January 6, 1757, in DRIA, 2:310. In a postscript to a letter conveying a talk from the Mankiller, Demere reported that the wife of the “Emperor” “is agoing to buy us some Corn at her Town.” Talk of Mankiller of Great Tel- lico to Demere, Fort Loudoun, February 6, 1757, in DRIA, 2:333. 66. Susan Sleeper-Smith has found that in the Great Lakes region, women’s agricultural surplus supplied both the general trade and the needs of nearby French forts. Women’s agri- cultural work was in fact central to the fur trade. Sleeper- Smith, Indian Women and French Men, 76–77. 67. Greg O’Brien has also noted that this democratization of the trade undermined the authority of the chiefs and created social unrest within Choctaw society. O’Brien, “Supplying Our Wants,” and Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 81– 84. 68. Carson, “From Corn Mothers to Cotton Spinners.” 69. Captain Paul Demere to Governor Lyttelton, May 2, 1759, in DRIA, 2:484. 70. Benjamin Hawkins, Letters, Journals, and Writings of Benjamin Hawkins, quoted in Braund, Deerskins and Duff els, 84. 71. Taitt, “Journal,” 505, 512. 72. Barnet Pavao- Zuckerman (and others) have argued that domestic animals did not con- tribute substantially to subsistence until the late eighteenth century. Overall, subsistence prac- tices were stable across the sixteenth to late eighteenth centuries. Pavao- Zuckerman, “Verte- brate Subsistence in the Mississippian- Historic Transition.” 73. Hatley, “Cherokee Women Farmers Hold Th eir Ground.” 74. James Taylor Carson has noted that one Choctaw term for cattle, alhpoa, means “fruit trees such as are cultivated.” Th is association linguistically linked the new animals with more traditional women’s labors and suggests cultural views of cattle as falling (at least in part) within women’s purview. A full-blown cattle economy did not arise, however, until the early nineteenth century. By that time, women were able to sell meat and dairy products to travelers Notes to Pages 134–139 239 or local whites for cash or other necessities. By the early nineteenth century, men also began to participate in cattle raising, taking up the occupation of cowboy. Carson, “Native Americans, the Market Revolution, and Culture Change,” 15. Virginia DeJohn Anderson has suggested that women adopted livestock raising earlier than men because it better fi tted women’s domes- tic routines; the care of domestic animals confl icted with men’s seasonal hunting. Th is model seems to hold true for the Southeast until the early nineteenth century. With the decline of the deerskin trade and the loss of wildlife populations in the region, however, this confl ict was no longer as salient an issue. Anderson, “King Philip’s Herds,” and Creatures of Empire. 75. Minutes, July 5, 1718, in JCIT, 298. 76. Barker, “Much Blood and Treasure,” 141. 77. Th omas Causton to Trustees, February 14, 1738, in CRG, 22(2):74. 78. Usner, “Rebeckah Lee’s Plea.” 79. Mary Townsend to the Trustees, May 29, 1739, in CRG, 22(2):145–50. Th e outcome of Townsend’s petition is unclear, although the following year secretary to the Trustees William Stephens indicated that a Mrs. Townsend was “the most Notorious of all Clamourers.” Th ere is no indication whether these two Mrs. Townsends were one and the same or not. Stephens to Harman Verelst, November 20, 1740, in CRG, 22(2):447. 80. “Letter from a Gentleman at Pensacola, October 30, 1764,” 97. 81. Taitt, “Journal,” 552. 84. Th ere is a general consensus among scholars that women were less directly aff ected by trade than men, became less dependent on it, and maintained their traditional roles more eas- ily than men. See Braund, Deerskins and Duff els, 131– 32, and “Guardians of Tradition”; Carson, Searching for the Bright Path, 52; Perdue, Cherokee Women, 64. 85. Dunlop, “Journall,” 129. 86. On Mississippian- era trading networks, see Braund, Deerskins and Duff els, 29; Swan- ton, Indians of the Southeastern United States, 738–39; Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 316. On early Creek trade with the Spanish, see Hall, Zamumo’s Gifts; Waselkov, “Historic Creek Indian Responses,” and “Seventeenth- Century Trade in the Colonial Southeast.” On En- glish trade that predated the establishment of the Carolinas, see Rountree, “Trouble Coming Southward.” On the early deerskin trade and its eff ect on native societies, see Braund, Deer- skins and Duff els; Haan, “Th e ‘Trade Do’s Not Flourish As Formerly’ ”; Hatley, Dividing Paths; Morris, Bringing of Wonder; Waselkov, “Eighteenth- Century Anglo- Indian Trade.” 85. D’Artaguiette, “Journal,” 57– 58; Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 272– 89. 86. See chapter 2, n. 12. 87. Lawson, New Voyage, 197. 88. Ibid., 34. 89. Kathryn Braund has argued that the deerskin trade increased the social value placed on men’s hunting because it expanded the number of goods that were acquired through the ex- change of skins. Braund, Deerskins and Duff els, esp. 68, and “Guardians of Tradition,” esp. 245. Also see Barker, “Much Blood and Treasure,” 39– 88; Perdue, Cherokee Women, 71– 72. 90. Minutes, January 23 and 25, 1716/ 17, in JCIT, 149– 53. 91. Minutes, August 15, 1701, in JCHA (August 13, 1701– August 28, 1701), 6. 92. Minutes, January 27, 1737/38, in SCCJ-UH, 7:39. On Hugh and Jonathan Bryan’s rela- tions with the Indians, see Gallay, Formation of a Planter Elite. 240 Notes to Pages 139–144

93. Minutes, January 10, 1671, JGCSC, 1:22– 23. 94. Minutes, April 4, 1739, in SCCJ- UH, 7:199. 95. Upper House to Commons in Minutes, December 6, 1739, in SCJCHA (September 12, 1739– March 26, 1741), 76– 77. 96. Lederer, Discoveries, 15. 97. Lawson, New Voyage, 25. For examples of other wives accompanying their husbands as guides, see ibid., 6, 13. 98. Ibid., 22. 99. Hudson, Creek Paths and Federal Roads. 100. A traveler and naturalist like William Bartram might also need to hire a guide to pilot his boat upriver to the Indian settlements. Bartram, Travels, 112– 13. 101. Lawson, New Voyage, 13. 102. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 52. 103. Minutes, May 8, 1718, in JCIT, 272. 104. Lawson, New Voyage, 208. Similarly, Th omas Nairne reported, “Th e greatest obliga- tion an Indian can lay upon his wife and mother in law is to carry home good store of [bear] fatt to keep house with. Th ey make bags of Dear skines and carry home full.” Nairne, Musk- hogean Journals, 55. 105. Chicken, “Journal,” 128. 106. [Hatton], “Some Short Remarks on the Indian Trade,” 406. 107. Minutes, May 8, 1718, in JCIT, 272; Hatley, Dividing Paths, 38. 108. Other scholars who have looked at the shift from burdeners to packhorses have sug- gested that Carolina offi cials and traders were responding to Indian desire to escape the heavy labor of carrying burdens and the dangers that accompanied this work. See Barker, “Much Blood and Treasure,” 112–14; Braund, Deerskins and Duff els, 90; Hatley, Dividing Paths, 37– 39; Ramsey, Yama see War, 192. 109. William Bull to the Duke of New Castle, October 14, 1743, in SCCJ, 10:371– 72. 110. In 1699, James Moore reported that the Spanish had constructed a working mine somewhere in the Appalachian Mountains but an unnamed group of Indians had destroyed it and killed the Spaniards “least (when they) the spaniards grew numerous they should make slaves of them to work in these mines as they had millions of other Indians as they said they had been informed.” Edward Randolph to Proprietors [?], March 22, 1698/9, enclosure of let- ter from James Moore, March 1, 1698/ 9, in BPRO-SC, 4:81– 83, quote from 82. 111. Governor to Alexander Wood, April 21, 1744, in SCCJ, 11(1):222– 23. 112. For an example of men’s labor in building “public edifi ces,” see Adair, History, 462. 113. Chicken, “Journal,” 138. 114. John Bogges to Governor Lyttelton, June 26, 1757, in DRIA, 2:387. 115. Reply of Emistesegoe to Governor Wright, September 5, 1768, in CRG, 10:581. 116. On settlement Indians, see LeMaster, “In the ‘Scolding Houses’ ”; Waddell, Indians of the South Carolina Lowcountry. 117. Usner, Indians, Settlers, and Slaves. 118. Matthews, “A Contemporary View of Carolina,” 157. 119. [Oglethorpe], “A New and Accurate Account of the Province of Georgia,” 55. See also Th omas Causton to wife, March 12, 1732/ 33, in CRG, 20:16. Notes to Pages 144–146 241

120. Th omas Smith [of Council] to the Speaker and Commons, September 12, 1693, in JCHA (1693), 27. 121. Atkins, Appalachian Indian Frontier, 45. 122. Executive Council Minutes, June 14, 1722, in CRNCSS, 7:114– 15. For a similar case, also in North Carolina, see Warrant for Dudley, March 13, 1722/23, in Colonial Court Records, box 192, Miscellaneous Papers, 1677– 1775, North Carolina State Archives; Bond for Christopher Dudley, March 16, 1722/ 23, in ibid.; Deposition of Richard Nixson, [n.d.], in ibid.; Deposition of John Gardiner, [n.d.], in ibid.; and Security to appear, Richard Nixson and John Gardiner, March 16, 1722/ 23, in ibid. 123. Lawson, New Voyage, 86. 124. Grand Jury Presentment against Mathew Winn, [n.d.], and Deposition of Th omas Barcock, [n.d.], both in CRNCSS, 4:51– 52, 54. 125. Minutes, August 11, 1714, in CRNCSS, 7:48. 126. LeMaster, “In the ‘Scolding Houses.’ ” 127. Rev. Alexander Stewart to the Secretary, November 6, 1763, quoted in CRNCSS, 8:xv. 128. Th e general consensus among historians of the deerskin trade is that by second half of the eighteenth century (if not before) overhunting had begun to put substantial pressure on the native economy. Dependency on the trade required that men continue to hunt, caus- ing them to expand their hunting territories and often producing confl ict with other native groups. See Braund, Deerskins and Duff els, 132– 35, 152– 53; Carson, Searching for the Bright Path, 53; Haan, “Th e ‘Trade Do’s Not Flourish As Formerly’ ”; O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revo- lutionary Age, 8. Gregory Waselkov has questioned the degree to which overhunting depleted the deer population in the region, noting that excavations of federal- period sites still reveal deer bones among the food refuse. Complaints of the scarcity of deerskins, he claims, were disingenuous, intended to reverse the decrease in gift giving after the French and Indian War. Waselkov, “Eighteenth- Century Anglo- Indian Trade.” 129. Hatley, Dividing Paths, 180– 83; O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, 82; Piker, Okfuskee, 98– 99. 130. Speech of [Skimpoiaff ee] [Lower Creek] to Governor Ellis and Council, Council Min- utes, October 10, 1759, in CRG, 8:167. For similar complaints, see Governor Reynolds of Geor- gia to Governor Lyttelton and Council of South Carolina, in Minutes, September 16, 1756, in SCCJ, 25:353–59; Talk of King Fron [Catawba] to Lt. Governor William Bull and Council, October 30, 1773, in SCCJ, 38:2–3. For complaints of encroachment on hunting territories in general, see Council Minutes, March 20, 1756, in CRG, 7:333; Talk of Little Carpenter to Gov- ernor Lyttelton and Council, February 17, 1757, in SCCJ, 26:57– 62; Conference of Governor Ellis with Hoyanne (Chehaw and Cussetaw chief ) in Council Minutes, May 26, 1758, in CRG, 7:763–65; Minutes, December 6, 1763, in SCCJ, 29:113– 14. 131. Council Minutes, October 11, 1759, in CRG, 8:170; Council Minutes, December 6, 1763, in CRG, 9:106; Minutes, April 13, 1767, in SCCJ, 33:76– 80. 132. Ensign George Price to Lt. Governor William Bull and Captain Cockrane, March 7, 1765, in Minutes, March 19, 1765, SCCJ, 32:481– 84, 486. 133. Letter from Edward Barnard to Governor Habersham, October 23, 1771, in CRG, 12:80–84. 134. Several historians have made a similar argument. See Carson, Searching for the Bright 242 Notes to Pages 146–151

Path, 64; Hatley, Dividing Paths, 211– 15; Sheidley, “Hunting and the Politics of Masculinity,” 169– 71. 135. Carson, Searching for the Bright Path, 53, 64– 65, quote from 64. 136. Governor John Reynolds to Board of Trade, April 7, 1755, in CRG, 27:61. 137. On hostilities between frontier settlers and the Cherokee, see Hatley, Dividing Paths, 183– 86. 138. Ensign George Price to Lt. Governor William Bull and Captain Cockrane, March 7, 1765, in Minutes, March 19, 1765, in SCCJ, 32:481– 84; “An Act for the Punishment of Vaga- bonds and other Idle and Disorderly persons . . . ,” 1764, in CRG, 18:588– 98; Governor John Reynolds to Board of Trade, April 7, 1755, in CRG, 27:61. 139. Hatley, Dividing Paths, 181. 140. Sheidley, “Unruly Men.” 141. Romans, Natural History, 93. 142. Ibid., 62, 83. 143. Ibid., 62, 86. 144. Bartram, Travels, 404. 145. Carson, Searching for the Bright Path, 71. Duane Champagne has argued that “the Cherokee, though not without resistance and reluctance, were the quickest to turn away from hunting to subsistence husbandry and farming; the Creek for the most part showed overt or fundamentalist resistance to adopting agricultural change; the Chickasaw and Choctaw, for reasons that had less to do with cultural attitudes than with circumstances, made a more grad- ual transition to husbandry and agriculture than the Cherokee and were less active in oppos- ing economic change than the Creek.” Champagne, Social Order and Political Change, 89. 146. Minutes, March 27, 1770, in SCCJ, 35:55– 57, quote from 57. 147. Merrell, Indians’ New World, 215– 17.

5. “To Stay amongst Them by a Marriage” 1. On the importance of marriage in advancing trading relationships, see Braund, Deerskins and Duff els; Fischer, Suspect Relations; Brown, Strangers in Blood; Hatley, Dividing Paths; Per- due, “Mixed Blood” Indians, and Cherokee Women; Sleeper- Smith, Indian Women and French Men; Kirk, Many Tender Ties. 2. Lederer, Discoveries, 23. 3. Intermarriage, Th eda Perdue has argued, supplied an important way to ritually incor- porate outsiders, appropriating their spiritual power and imposing order on them. Perdue, “Mixed Blood” Indians, 24– 25. On the importance of kinship in native Texas, see Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman, esp. 9. 4. On intermarriage in the Southeast, see Braund, Deerskins and Duff els; Fischer, Sus- pect Relations; Frank, Creeks and Southerners; Hatley, Dividing Paths; Perdue, “Mixed Blood” Indians, and Cherokee Women. Although the English did not commonly intermarry with the Indians in either Virginia or New England, many traders working among the Iroquois in the mid-Atlantic or among the tribes along Hudson Bay married native women. Intermarriage was more common in many areas explored by the French, especially Canada and the Great Lakes region (although, interestingly, less so in Louisiana). On intermarriage in these re- Notes to Pages 151–154 243 gions, see Brown, Strangers in Blood; DuVal, “Indian Intermarriage and Métissage in Colo- nial Louisiana”; Van Kirk, Many Tender Ties. On a later period and western location, see Peterson–del Mar, “Intermarriage and Agency.” On intermarriage in the Spanish colonies, see Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman; Deagan, “Mestizaje in Colonial St. Augustine”; Gutierrez, When Jesus Came. 5. Perdue, “Mixed Blood” Indians, 15, 24– 25. 6. On kinship in southeastern societies, see Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 185– 202; Per- due, Cherokee Women, 41– 44; Swanton, Indians of the Southeastern United States, 651– 70. 7. Perdue, “Mixed Blood” Indians, 24, 46; Saunt, New Order of Th ings, 62. 8. DuVal, “Indian Intermarriage and Métissage in Louisiana,” 296– 301. 9. John Rolfe struggled with the question of whether a commoner should marry an Indian “princess” and in fact wrote a lengthy justifi cation of his decision to wed Pocahontas, reject- ing the notion that he was claiming royal prerogatives by doing so. See Townsend, Pocahontas and the Powhatan Dilemma. 10. Jordan, White over Black, 139–40, 163; An Act Concerning Servants & Slaves, 1715, An Act for an additional Tax on all free Negroes, 1723, and An Act Concerning Marriages, 1741, in CRNC, 23:65, 106, 160. Virginia, although falling outside the scope of this study, required that white people marrying Indians, whether slave or free, leave the colony. Smits, “Abomi- nable Mixture.” On the subject of regulating intermarriage, see also Godbeer, “Eroticizing the Middle Ground”; Smits, “We Are Not to Grow Wild”; Spear, “Th ey Need Wives,” and Race, Sex, and Social Order in Early New Orleans. 11. Richard Godbeer has argued that the most fundamental reasons for settlers’ aversion to Anglo- Indian marriage “were biblical injunctions against marriage to non- Christians and English disdain for the Indians’ ‘barbaric’ way of life.” Godbeer, Sexual Revolution in Early America, 91– 111. 12. Oglethorpe to the Board of Trade, April 24, 1736, in CRG, 21:216–17; Joseph Fitzwal- ter to Oglethorpe, July 5, 1735, in CRG, 20:426–27. In a later incident, an Anglican minister insisted upon interviewing the Indian fi ancée of a trader before he was willing to perform a legally binding ceremony, questioning her regarding doctrine and then baptizing her. Adair, History, 133– 35. 13. Lawson, New Voyage, 237. 14. Atkins, Appalachian Indian Frontier, 80. Similarly, in 1743, the South Carolina Council concluded that “intermarriages between them [white men and native women]” “would be the most eff ectual way, as the French had already experienced of Securing those People in our In- terest.” Minutes, October 13, 1743, in SCCJ- UH, 9(2):126– 27. 15. Fischer, Suspect Relations, 57, 74– 78, 85– 90; quote from 57. 16. Hatley, Dividing Paths, 152. 17. On intermarriage in the post- Revolutionary period, see Frank, Creeks and Southerners; McLoughlin, Cherokee Renascence in the New Republic; Perdue, “Mixed- Blood” Indians, and Cherokee Women. 18. Relationships of signifi cant duration and standing that were solemnized by formal cer- emonies and required the permission of the woman’s family and perhaps the local headmen will be defi ned here as “marriages.” Th is involves the imposition of a Western term on a non- 244 Notes to Pages 154–157

Western ritual bond, and expectations regarding the nature of the commitment involved and the obligations of each partner diff ered between whites and natives. However, to refuse to use the term marriage legitimizes European notions that only “legal” marriage relationships are to be respected and minimizes the bonds created and the seriousness with which natives viewed long- term relationships. 19. Frank, Creeks and Southerners, 34. 20. Th ere is no independent confi rmation of this report. Introduction to “Journal of Sir Alexander Cuming (1730),” Historical Register, in Williams, Early Travels in the Tennessee Country, 119. 21. Bartram, Travels, 41. 22. Frank, Creeks and Southerners, 27, 33– 34. 23. Henry Timberlake told the story of an English woman “whose husband had been mur- dered and who had afterward married his murderer. Th e Indian though reluctant, was dis- posed to comply with the terms of the treaty, but she absolutely refused to return with her countrymen.” Henry Timberlake, Gentleman’s Magazine 35 (1765), 142. 24. Kirsten Fischer identifi es two kinds of relationships, temporary and long-term, for colonial North Carolina. I argue, though, that when one looks beyond the Piedmont (which Fischer focuses on), there was also a third option, discussed below. Fischer, Suspect Relations, 70–74. 25. Lawson, New Voyage, 35–36, 41, 183–84. Lawson considered his stories about travelers’ “Intrigues with the Indian Lasses” highly amusing, painting the women as “whores” and men who entered into arrangements with them as fools. Lawson, New Voyage, 30. 26. Adair, History, 146. 27. Ibid., 147. 28. Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 199. 29. Lawson, New Voyage, 184– 85. 30. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 60– 61. 31. Bartram, Travels, 170. 32. Th e following generalizations regarding native marriage practices are taken from Longe, “Small Postscript,” 30– 32; Swanton, “Early Account,” 60– 61; Lawson, New Voyage, 34–36, 185– 88; Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 45– 47; Adair, History, 145– 48; Bartram, Travels, 402– 3. 33. Lawson, New Voyage, 186. 34. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 45. Adair also noted that while the bride’s consent had to be obtained, “persuasions most commonly prevail with them.” Adair, History, 148. 35. Bartram, Travels, 402. 36. James Adair interpreted the deer’s foot as “an emblem of the readiness with which she ought to serve him,” terming his gift merely “off als,” or the sorry remains of his own feast. However, in light of the other obligations placed upon men in order to maintain the mar- riage, this seems to be an inaccurate interpretation. Th e deer’s foot more likely represented the man’s ability as a hunter, and his responsibility to supply his wife and children with game. Adair also reported that most tribes required that “before the bridegroom [could] presume to any legal power over the bride,” he had to kill a deer and bring it to her. If she took it, pre- pared it, and gave him some to eat in front of witnesses, they were considered bound. Adair, History, 146– 47. Notes to Pages 157–160 245

37. Adair, History, 147. 38. Romans, Natural History, 44. 39. Th is was generally true in other regions as well, and several scholars have noted the material benefi ts that could accrue to women who married traders. See Brown, Strangers in Blood; Sleeper- Smith, Indian Women and French Men; Van Kirk , Many Tender Ties. Th eda Perdue, however, has suggested that there was also a downside. Although access to trade goods or important diplomatic ties could enhance a woman’s position, increasingly her status “came to derive from her husband rather than her mother, brother, lineage, or clan.” Perdue, Chero- kee Women, 83. 40. Bartram, Travels, 110– 11. Th eda Perdue has argued that in condemning the woman’s behavior, her relatives “probably were only politely agreeing with guests.” Th e woman, Perdue explains, “no doubt believed that [she] had a claim on these goods because they were in the trader’s house, which, in a matrilocal society . . . was actually her house.” Further, “her generos- ity to kin was socially sanctioned behavior.” Perdue, “Mixed Blood” Indians, 23. I would argue, however, that there were probably commonsense limits to how much of a husband’s personal belongings a wife could presume to control, and this woman seems to have gone farther than even her relatives could support. 41. Proceedings of the Council Concerning Indian Aff airs, June 2, 1753, in DRIA, 1:407. 42. Bartram, Travels, 357. 43. Lawson, New Voyage, 37. 44. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 47. 45. “A Ranger’s Report of Travels with General Oglethorpe,” 221. 46. Lawson, New Voyage, 207. 47. On women’s household tasks, see Swanton, “Early Account,” 57–59; Lawson, New Voy- age, 18, 28, 45, 207; Timberlake, Memoirs, 57, 61, 79– 80; Romans, Natural History, 67– 68, 92; Bartram, Travels, 204, 285. For detailed descriptions of native handicrafts, see Swanton, “Early Account,” 67– 68; Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 64–65; Lawson, New Voyage, 208; Timber- lake, Memoirs, 86; Adair, History, 452– 56. 48. D’Artaguiette, “Journal,” 58; Swanton, “Early Account,” 59. Several other historians have noted that this kind of assessment implied that native men were failing to fulfi ll the most important responsibility of manhood, providing for their families. Th is conclusion questioned the very masculinity of Indian men. See Fischer, Suspect Relations, 36; Vibert, Traders’ Tales, 127; Smits, “Th e ‘Squaw Drudge.’ ” 49. Romans, Natural History, 41. 50. Lawson, New Voyage, 29. Susan Sleeper-Smith has argued that French fur traders in the Great Lakes region “never worried about how to feed themselves: that remained a female responsibility.” Sleeper- Smith, Indian Women and French Men, 75. 51. Romans, Natural History, 68. Th is development may indicate the increased dependence of Indians on Europeans, both commercially and politically. On traders’ livestock in Indian communities, see Piker, Okfuskee, 118–27. On the problem of livestock owned by biracial chil- dren of traders, see Saunt, New Order of Th ings, 46– 50, 159– 71, 171– 74, 256– 65. 52. Swanton, “Early Account,” 57– 59. 53. Lawson, New Voyage, 18. 54. Ibid., 53. 246 Notes to Pages 160–162

55. Bartram, Travels, 284. 56. Adair, History, 447. 57. Ibid., 141. Tom Hatley has noted the ambivalent response to livestock and foods pro- duced from such animals among the Cherokee. Hatley, “Cherokee Women Farmers Hold Th eir Ground.” James Taylor Carson argues that the Choctaw kept chickens primarily to sell them to Europeans. Women generally were responsible for tending the birds. Carson, Search- ing for the Bright Path, 56. 58. Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 213– 16; Swanton, “Early Account,” 57– 59. 59. Adair, History, 443. Bartram also reported a general level of cleanliness, noting in rela- tion to the townhouse that “there are people appointed to take care of it, to have it daily swept clean.” Bartram, Travels, 357. Part of the shift in European perceptions of native housing and cleanliness may have resulted from a shift in native housing styles during the eighteenth cen- tury. Th e archaeologist David J. Hally has argued that the Cherokee stopped building semi- subterranean winter houses, while Creek winter houses evolved into rectangular surface struc- tures quite diff erent from the earlier semisunken variety. Such houses were probably more familiar to English visitors and therefore more appealing. Hally, “As Caves below the Ground.” See also Wesson, Households and Hegemony. 60. Adair, History, 443. 61. Piker, Okfuskee, 127– 30. For archaeological research on the shift in native settlement patterns between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, see Waselkov and Smith, “Upper Creek Archaeology”; Wesson, Households and Hegemony. 62. Andrew Frank has argued that the Creek expected intermarried Europeans to change their behavior to gain acceptance in the community. Frank, Creeks and Southerners, 26. 63. Bartram, Travels, 399; Longe, “Short Postscript,” 14– 16. 64. Longe, “Short Postscript,” 44– 46; Adair, History, 23, 90, 115, 124– 25, 167– 78. 65. Lawson, New Voyage, 186, 188. James Adair concurred, observing in puzzlement the demeanor of men who had been away a long time and then encountered their wives when re- turning home. He noted that “instead of those sudden strong emotions of joy that naturally arise in two generous breasts at such an unexpected meeting, the self- interested pair go along as utter strangers, without seeming to take the least notice of one another, till a considerable time after they get home.” Adair took this lack of acknowledgment as an absence of emotion, but it more likely refl ected issues of ritual purity. Once the man had undergone the proper cer- emonies for cleansing, he was free to rejoin his family. Adair, History, 104– 5. 66. “Just as Indian men supposedly lacked sexual ardor for native women, so too did they presumably lack the enthusiasm and willpower required to vanquish the untamed wilderness and make the soil yield its riches. . . . Indian men who did not take full advantage of land and women alike should relinquish their claims to both and give way to more ambitious settlers.” Fischer, Suspect Relations, 70. 67. Elizabeth Vibert has suggested that among the peoples of the Columbia Plateau men and women viewed women’s menstruation and seclusion quite diff erently. Men considered women’s cycles as potentially “polluting,” while women emphasized the ritual and practical knowledge gained through seclusion. Vibert, Traders’ Tales, 134– 35. 68. Swanton, “Early Account,” 59–60, quote from 59; Romans, Natural History, 64; Adair, History, 129– 31, quote from 130. Notes to Pages 162–170 247

69. Galloway, “Where Have All the Menstrual Huts Gone?” 70. Adair, History, 130. 71. Swanton, “Early Account,” 60. 72. Adair, History, 130. See also Lawson, New Voyage, 189. 73. Swanton, “Early Account,” 60. 74. Longe, “Short Postscript,” 32– 34. 75. Testimony of Th omas Beamer, February 4, 1760, in SCCJ, 28:159– 61. 76. Timberlake, Memoirs, 89– 90. Th eda Perdue has argued that “by providing food to their English husbands, Cherokee women confi rmed their marriages and behaved in a way that Cherokees expected wives to behave. Th ey did not defy the warriors out of rebellion or subversion—they acted according to long-established standards of behavior for married women.” Perdue, Cherokee Women, 100. 77. Pesantubbee, Choctaw Women, 75– 76. 78. John Lewis Gervais to [Henry Laurens?], June 24, 1778, Laurens Papers, South Caro- liniana Library. 79. Minutes, September 21, 1710, in JCIT, 4. 80. Minutes, October 25, 1712, in JCIT, 37. 81. William Byrd, quoted in Todd, “Historical Introduction,” 78. 82. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, August 29, 1756, in DRIA, 2:172. 83. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, September 9, 1756, in DRIA, 2:197. 84. For an analysis of Englishmen’s views of native sexuality in North Carolina, see Fischer, Suspect Relations, 61– 70. 85. On the problem of interpreting travel and other colonial writing, see Pratt, Imperial Eyes; Clark, Travel Writing and Empire; Schwartz, Implicit Understandings; Todorov, Th e Con- quest of America. But see also the introduction to the present volume, n. 12. 86. Gordon Sayre, “Native American Sexuality in the Eyes of the Beholders,” 35, 38. 87. Fischer, Suspect Relations, esp. 61– 70. 88. Godbeer, Sexual Revolution in Early America. See also Lyons, Sex among the Rabble. 89. Lawson, New Voyage, 34– 35, 40– 42. 90. Romans, Natural History, 43, 86. 91. Lawson, New Voyage, 184; see also 35– 36. 92. Gowing, “Gender and the Language of Insult,” 15. 93. Th omas Jones to [?], October 23, 1741, in CRG, 23:123– 24. 94. Daniel Pepper to Governor Lyttelton, March 30, 1757, in DRIA, 2:355. 95. Jadart de Beauchamp’s Journal, October 13, 1746, in MPAFD, 4:291. 96. Deposition of Ludovick Grant, January 12, 1756, in James Glen Papers, South Carolini- ana Library. For a similar version of this letter, see DRIA, 2:43– 44. 97. Kanagatoga also may have been subtly asking why the English did not bring their own women with them. Talk of Kanagatoga to Captain Raymond Demere, October 26, 1756, in DRIA, 2:236. 98. Adair, History, 383. 99. Lawson, New Voyage, 188. 100. Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 199. 101. Nairne, Muskhogean Journals, 47. 248 Notes to Pages 170–174

102. Adair, History, 149–53, quote from 153. See also Reck, “Report,” 105; Romans, Natural History, 98; Bartram, Travels, 183– 84, 206, 403. 103. Bartram, Travels, 355. 104. Adair, History, 151n. 105. Journal of Th omas Bosomworth, October 11, 1752, in DRIA, 1:306. Th e Choctaw charged that when “the Traders sent for a Basket of Bread & the Generous Indian sent his own wife to Supply their wants instead of taking the Bread out of the Basket they put their hand upon the Breast of their Wives which was not to be admitted.” Choctaw Congress, April 1, 1765, in MPAED, 241. 106. Adair, History, 335. See also Jadart de Beauchamp’s Journal, October 13, 1746, in MPAFD, 4:291. 107. Adair, History, 260– 61. 108. On Jones, see Lanning, St. Augustine Expedition, 24, 32, 38–40, 87, 124, 119–21. Mary Musgrove was also sometimes referred to as being “of Indian Extract.” Report of the Commit- tee on Indian Presents, Minutes, May 26, 1749, in SCCJ- UH, 16(2):51; Duke of Bedford to Governor Glen and Council, April 26, 1748, in Minutes, December 20, 1748, in SCCJ, 17(1):313; Minutes, July 13, 1749, in SCCJ, 17(2):529. 109. Report of the Committee Appointed to Inquire into the Causes of the Disappoint- ment of Success in the Expedition against St. Augustine, in SCCJ- UH, 7:420– 518, esp. 436, 442–43, 447–48, 509–12. On Jones’s involvement in Oglethorpe’s invasion of Florida, see Ivers, British Drums. 110. Th e British did recognize a diff erence in appearance among biracial people, even if they did not acknowledge them as members of their own society. Ludovick Grant met a young Indian man who he concluded must be biracial: “by his Whiteness” he “supposed him to be a whiteman’s Son.” Ludovick Grant to Governor Glen, July 22, 1754, in DRIA, 2:18. 111. On interracial marriage and mixed-blood children, see Frank, Creeks and Southern- ers; Hatley, Dividing Paths; Perdue, “Mixed Blood” Indians, and Cherokee Women; Saunt, New Order of Th ings, esp. 67– 89. On biracial children in other regions, see Brown, Strangers in Blood; Peterson, “Prelude to Red River”; Van Kirk, Many Tender Ties. 112. Perdue, “Mixed Blood” Indians, 33– 69. 113. Frank, Creeks and Southerners, 4. 114. Hatley, Dividing Paths, 60– 62. 115. Atkins, Appalachian Indian Frontier, 80. 116. Lawson, New Voyage, 185. 117. Louis-Philippe, Diary, 77. Even James Germany, who enjoyed an otherwise happy mar- riage with his Creek wife, encountered diffi culty when it came to the couple’s children. Al- though he wished to send the children to Savannah or Charles Town to be educated, he could not “prevail on his wife to consent to it; for this aff air aff ect[ed] him very sensibly, for he [had] accumulated a pretty fortune by his industry and commendable conduct.” Bartram, Travels, 357. 118. Fitch to Lt. Governor Middleton and Council, August 4, 1725, in SCCJ, 3:66–68, quote from 68. On Mary and John Musgrove, see Baine, “Myths of Mary Musgrove”; Coulter, “Mary Musgrove, ‘Queen of the Creeks’ ”; Fisher, “Mary Musgrove: Creek Englishwoman”; Gillespie, Notes to Pages 174–178 249

“Th e Sexual Politics of Race and Gender”; Morris, “Th e Peculiar Case of Mary Musgrove,” and “Emerging Gender Roles for Southeastern Indian Women”; Todd, Mary Musgrove. 119. Ben C. McCary, introduction to Milfort, Memoir, 7– 15, esp. 7– 10; Milfort, Memoir, 26–30, 135–36. On Alexander McGillivray, see Green, “Alexander McGillivray”; Saunt, A New Order of Th ings, 67– 89. 120. Petition of Elizabeth McQueen, November 10, 1747, in SCCJ, 15:44– 45; Report of the Judges on the Petition of Elizabeth McQueen, November 13, 1747, in ibid., 15:60– 61. 121. McQueen may well have considered herself to be married according to Indian custom and therefore did not consider her child a bastard and would not have concealed its birth. Or she may have practiced infanticide once she discovered that the father of her child had aban- doned her, which appears to have been acceptable practice among many southeastern nations. Hudson, Southeastern Indians, 231. 122. Regulations for Indian Trade, March 31, 1765, in Minutes, May 25, 1765, in SCCJ, 32:536. 123. Swanton, “Early Account,” 66. 124. Lawson, New Voyage, 190. 125. Bartram, Travels, 402– 3. 126. Adair, History, 452. See also Romans, Natural History, 76– 77. 127. Adair, History, 452. 128. Lawson, New Voyage, 233–34. Among the Choctaw, a young warrior who had taken his fi rst scalp underwent a ritual beating “in order to make him understand that a warrior must endure everything patiently, even when he is taken by the enemy.” Swanton, “Early Ac- count,” 66. 129. Lederer, Discoveries, 29; Swanton, “Early Account,” 61; Romans, Natural History, 96; Adair, History, 126– 27, 443, 461. 130. Jonathan Evans to Governor Glen and Council, April 27, 1748, in SCCJ, 15:231–33, 240– 41. Another half- Catawba headman, James Bullen, had a commission from the governor of North Carolina. Journal of John Evans, October 20, 1755, in DRIA, 2:86. 131. Will of John Pettygrew, dated February 15, 1758, proved April 15, 1761, Georgia State Archives, microfi lm 40, box 29, 65– 66. 132. Hatley, Dividing Paths, 60. 133. Minutes, May 7, June 3, June 30, 1748, in SCCJ, 15:254–55, 292, 353; Minutes, June 25, 1748, in SCCJ- UH, 16:162– 63; Report of the Committee of Conference on Indian Aff airs, June 25, 1748, in ibid., 182– 83; Proceedings of the Council Concerning Indian Aff airs, June 4, 1753, in DRIA, 1:409; Daniel Pepper to Governor Lyttelton, December 21, 1756, in DRIA, 2:297; Half- Breed and Warriors’ King to Daniel Pepper, May 9, 1757, in DRIA, 2:375. Andrew Frank has noted that referring to some biracial children as “half-breeds” “often ensured uneasy Americans that the children of intermarriages . . . could be trusted.” Frank, Creeks and South- erners, 87– 88. 134. Talk from the Half Breed to George Galphin, June 9, 1778, in Laurens Papers, South Caroliniana Library. 135. Daniel Pepper to Governor Lyttelton, December 23, 1756, in DRIA, 2:301. Th ere were several traders named Brown, and it is not clear whose son John Brown was nor how he came 250 Notes to Pages 178–181 to be trading in the Chickasaw Breed Camp when he was Cherokee. Brown was not alone. In 1790, Joseph Clay noted that “many Indians and half breeds have become Factors, and some of them are very respectable as such, and are possessed of very considerable property.” Joseph Clay to William Few, November 5, 1790, in Clay, “Letters,” 237. 136. Journal of John Evans, March 3, 1756, in DRIA, 2:107. 137. Abstract of a talk between the Governor of New Orleans and the Cherokee and Shaw- nee, December 4, 1756, in DRIA, 2:368. 138. Joseph Wright to Daniel Pepper, May 7, 1757, in DRIA, 2:374. Some individuals may have volunteered to carry messages or to accompany traveling parties in order to maintain their ties with their fathers’ culture. In 1772, David Taitt reported that a half-Indian man named Howarth met them on the path, indicating that he had been waiting for them “on pur- pose to go to Charles Town to see his Father.” Taitt, “Journal,” 560. 139. Archibald Montgomery, “An Account of the Proceedings of the Army under Col. Montgomery,” Boston Evening Post, July 28, 1760, copy at the South Caroliniana Library. 140. George Galphin to Henry Laurens, December 29, 1778, in Chesnutt and Taylor, Th e Papers of Henry Laurens, 15:19– 21. 141. Barker, “Much Blood and Treasure.” 142. In what is now Canada, biracial women became the preferred spouses of fur traders in the eighteenth century. See Brown, Strangers in Blood; Van Kirk , Many Tender Ties. 143. Sieur Lafl eur to Diron D’Artaguiette, July 22, 1729, in MPAFD, 4:17– 19. 144. Governor Glen to the Cherokee Emperor, June 8, 1751, in DRIA, 1:173. 145. Kirsten Fischer has suggested that biological defi nitions of “race” were gaining cur- rency in native communities, altering native understandings of kinship. Older notions about kin versus outsiders became more unstable in ways that caused confusion but also made room for a new category of “liminal fi gures” within Indian communities. Fischer, Suspect Re- lations, 89. 146. Andrew Frank has argued that the value of a biracial person as an intermediary, at least as far as the English were concerned, depended greatly upon the reputation of that per- son’s father. Offi cials often took time to record the name of a “half-breed’s father.” Frank, Creeks and Southerners, 87. 147. Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, April 11, 1757, in DRIA, 2:366. 148. List of traders to be licensed, December 4, 1771, in SCCJ, 18(2):513–14; Mankiller of Hiwassee’s Answer, enclosed in Captain Raymond Demere to Governor Lyttelton, Oc- tober 13, 1756, in DRIA, 2:221; Old Hopp to Captain Raymond Demere, October 3, 1756, in DRIA, 2:223– 24; Talk of William Gerard DeBrahm to the Prince of Chote, February 6, 1757, in DRIA, 2:335. 149. Belfast Newsletter, January 1, 1760, typescript at the South Caroliniana Library. 150. Captain Paul Demere to Governor Lyttleton, May 15, 1759, in DRIA, 2:493; Testi- mony of Maximillian Moore and his son Johnny, June 6, 1759, in SCCJ, 28:98– 101. 151. Duche to Governor Glen and Council, April 5, 1748, in SCCJ, 15:227–28. In another instance, Peter Shartie, the son of the French trader Martin Chartier and a Shawnee woman, served as a French agent along the Mississippi River before settling a group of followers among the Creek, who came to be known as Savannahs. He was reputed to be responsible for a se- Notes to Pages 181–191 251 ries of “outrages” committed in the Pennsylvania backcountry. Shartie’s relationship with his French father contributed to his affi nity with the French and hostility toward the British. At- kins, Appalachian Indian Frontier, 65– 66. 152. Barker, “Much Blood and Treasure,” xi. 153. Richardson, Diary, December 29, 1758, South Caroliniana Library, 23– 24. 154. Edmund Gray to John Fallowfi eld, May 15, 1751, in DRIA, 1:83. 155. Affi davit of James Maxwell, June 12, 1751, in DRIA, 1:68; Skiagunsta of Keowee and the Good Warrior of Estatoe to Governor Glen, [May 1752], in DRIA, 1:249–50; Journal of Th omas Bosomworth, July 30, 1752, in DRIA, 1:271. 156. Statement of Old Warrior of Tomotley (Cherokee) to Raymond Demere, Novem- ber 25, 1756, enclosed in Henry Lyttelton to Governor Reynolds and Council, January 25, 1757, in CRG, 16:143– 52. 157. A few years later, the longtime trader Th omas Wigan wrote to the governor of South Carolina expressing concern for the state of aff airs in the Creek nation. Part of the problem, Wigan reported, was that “Boson Ladsons half breed Son Leads them in a Notion that the White People will never come again among them & that their Debts are all forgiven them & if they never come he can get Goods enough to supply all the Lower Towns.” In this case, Lad- son’s son was able to use his status as a mixed- blood person with access to the trade to con- vince a number of followers to default on their debts. Ladson’s son came by his bad behavior honestly, Wigan implied, adding that “his Father is as bad.” Wigan to Governor Boone and Council, March 7, 1764, in SCCJ, 30:60– 61. 158. On factionalism in the Creek nation over the desirability of allying with various Euro- pean nations, see Hahn, Invention of the Creek Nation. On the desirability of acculturating to European society, see Saunt, New Order of Th ings; O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age; Perdue, “Mixed Blood” Indians.

Conclusion 1. John Martin to the Creek Nation, January 11, 1782, in Letterbook, John Martin Papers, Georgia Historical Society. 2. John Martin to the Tallasee King and Head Men and Warriors of the Upper and Lower Creek Nation, July 19, 1782, in John Martin Papers, Georgia Historical Society. 3. Brown, “Brave New Worlds,” and “Th e Anglo- Algonquian Gender Frontier.” 4. Shoemaker, “An Alliance between Men,” and Strange Likeness. 5. Barr, Peace Came in the Form of a Woman; Galloway, “Th e Chief Who Is Your Father”; Shoemaker, “An Alliance between Men”; Van Zandt, Brothers among Nations; Richard White, Middle Ground. 6. Andrew Jackson to George Colbert, February 13, 1816, in Th e Papers of Andrew Jackson, 4:13. 7. On the Colbert family, see Atkinson, Splendid Land, Splendid People. On changes in southeastern Indian society and economy, particularly in gender relations and the division of labor, see Carson, Searching for the Bright Path, “From Corn Mothers to Cotton Spinners,” and “Native Americans, the Market Revolution, and Culture Change”; Cumfer, Separate Peoples, One Land; Ethridge, Creek Country; Frank, Creeks and Southerners; O’Brien, Choc- 252 Notes to Page 191 taws in a Revolutionary Age; McLoughlin, Cherokee Renascence; Perdue, Cherokee Women, and “Women, Men, and American Indian Policy”; Piker, Okfuskee; Saunt, A New Order of Th ings; White, Roots of Dependency. 8. O’Brien, Choctaws in a Revolutionary Age, and “Trying to Look like Men”; Saunt, A New Order of Th ings, 164– 85. 9. On the creation of new national government among southeastern tribes, see Cham- pagne, Social Order and Political Change; McLoughlin, Cherokee Renascence in the New Repub- lic, 146– 67; Saunt, A New Order of Th ings. Bibliography

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Index

Adair, James, 35, 55, 56, 63, 64, 67, 71, 72, Bartram, William, 21, 71, 93– 94, 124, 129, 104, 106, 124, 130, 155, 157, 160– 61, 163, 147, 154, 156, 157– 58, 160, 161, 170, 176 170– 71, 176 baskets, 128, 130, 133, 138, 148, 159, 176 adultery, 165– 66, 170– 71 Beamer, James, 110, 163– 64, 180– 81 age, 2, 5, 44, 52, 55, 72, 73, 74– 77, 105 Beamer, Th omas, 164, 181 agriculture. See farming Beauchamp, Jadart de, 79, 126, 170 Alabama town, 170 Benn, Samuel, 115 alcohol, 39, 59, 75– 76, 122– 23, 132, 134, 135, Bernaby, Sir William, 77– 78 142, 165 biracial. See mixed-blood Alibamon Mingo (Choctaw), 44 Blind King (Chickasaw), 37 Ammonscossittee of Tellico (Cherokee Block, Sharon, 104 “emperor”), 25, 81 Bogges, John, 142– 43 ammunition, 22, 27, 43, 59, 80, 112, 114, 115, Bonnefoy, Antoine, 93 121, 126, 139. See also fi r e a r m s Bosomworth, Th omas, 36 Amory, Sarah, 39 “boy,” as insult, 66, 68, 71, 72, 73. See also Anastasia Island, 65 insults, gendered Anson County, NC, 106 Braund, Kathryn Holland, 130 Apalachee Indians, 98 Bray, William, 1, 98 Arkansas Indians, 70 Breaker Face (Cherokee), 44 Atkins, Edmund, 37, 44, 46, 86, 88, 112, 120, Brickell, John, 130 144, 153 Brim of Coweta (Ochese/ Lower Creek), Attakullakulla of Chote (aka Little Carpen- 12– 13, 27, 44, 70, 151 ter) (Cherokee), 34, 35, 38, 63, 66– 67, 70, “brother,” 16, 23– 31, 41, 46, 49– 50, 112, 125, 71, 74, 87, 95, 112– 13, 116, 152 151, 186, 189, 190, 191 Augusta, 71 Brown, Cloe Hannah, 103 Avoyel Indians, 62 Brown, John (Cherokee), 178 Brown, Kathleen M., 188 Bagwith, Mary, 61 Brown, Samuel, 183 Bailey, Richard, 134 Bryan, Hugh, 139 Barnwell, John, 59, 86 Bull, Lt. Gov. William (SC), 46, 123, 142, Bartlett, Mrs., 37 147–48 286 Index

Bunion, James, 181 48, 62, 65– 66, 69, 70, 71, 76, 87, 88, 89, 90, burdeners, 137, 140– 41, 147 96, 97, 104, 109, 120, 125, 129, 132, 140, 146, Burges, Mr., 136 160– 61, 169, 170, 178, 180, 190– 91 Burroughs, Seymour, 2 Chicken, George, 25, 26, 44, 89, 109, 141, 142 Busch, Miss, 154 Chief Hancock (Tuscarora), 87 busk, 161– 62 chiefs, female. See “queens,” Indian Byrd, William, 165 Chigelli of Coweta (Creek), 167– 68 children, 2, 3, 4, 17, 19, 20, 24, 31, 33, 34, 55, 61, Caesar (Cherokee headman), 65 73, 83, 84, 85, 86, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 97, 98, Campbell, Mr., 96 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 111, 123, 135, 139, 144, Captain Alleck (Yuchi), 28, 120 149, 150, 154, 156– 57, 158, 163, 165, 169, 170, Captain Jamie (Indian), 76 172– 84; rhetoric regarding, 2, 12, 24, 26– Captain Piques (Waccamaw), 44 30, 35, 36, 37, 68, 71, 72, 75, 80, 82, 83, 85, captives, 2, 55, 59, 62, 69, 73, 81, 84, 85, 87, 88, 90, 100, 101, 102, 105– 7, 108– 13, 115–17, 119, 89, 90, 91– 100, 102, 103, 121, 131, 139, 185. 120, 124– 27, 132, 148, 185– 86, 190– 91 See also slavery, Indian Choa:te:hee of Great Tellico (Cherokee), 53 Carolina Proprietors, 26, 41, 58, 60, 98, 99 Choctaw Indians, 6, 25, 26, 29, 33, 37, 42, 47, Carpenter (Indian), 165 55, 56, 68, 70, 72, 73, 75, 79, 88, 90, 94, 96, Catawba Indians, 6, 29, 31, 39, 46, 70, 72, 97, 104, 109, 120, 121, 133, 134, 145, 146, 147, 76, 87, 96, 104– 5, 132, 141, 147– 48, 177, 163, 168, 170– 71 178–79, 181 Chote (Cherokee town), 38, 66, 70, 125, 126, Causton, Th omas, 135 168 Ceesar (Cherokee), 179 Chowanoc Indians, 144– 45 Cheraw Indians, 177 civilians, 63, 92, 116. See also noncombatants Charles Town, 1, 2, 20, 22, 23, 25, 28, 31, 32, clothing, 18, 28, 42– 43, 46, 48, 69, 80, 93, 103, 33, 34, 39, 41, 44, 45, 66, 76, 81, 91, 92, 101, 112, 120, 121– 22, 123, 125, 126, 127, 131, 136, 105, 107– 8, 131, 133, 134, 136, 142, 159, 174, 137, 138, 148, 155, 159, 161, 180 177, 181 Cochran, John, 91 Chasee King, 165 Coff ee, John, 190 Chenehaw Indians, 99 Colbert, George (Chickasaw), 190– 91 Cherekeileigie of Coweta (Ochese/ Lower Coloose (Apalachee), 98 Creek), 2, 74, 102 Commissioners of the Indian Trade of Cherokee Indians, 6, 21, 22, 25– 26, 27, 29, 31, South Carolina, 39, 91, 97, 98, 105, 108, 131, 32, 34, 35, 36– 37, 38, 39, 42, 43, 44, 46, 53, 134, 138, 165 55, 56, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66– 67, 70, 71– 72, 73, commissions, 41– 47, 49, 63, 77, 178 75, 80, 81– 82, 86, 87, 89, 93, 95, 100, 103, Congarees (Indian town), 19, 135, 140 106, 107– 17, 121, 124, 125, 126, 130, 131, 132, Coolome (Creek town), 158 133, 134, 135, 138, 141, 142, 145, 152, 154, 155, Coosa Indians, 95 160, 163– 64, 168– 69, 170, 171, 173, 178, 179, Counnoutorie (Cherokee town), 121 180–81, 182–83 Courtonne, Jerome, 178 Cherokee War, 9, 15, 100, 108, 116, 164, 171 Coweta (Ochese, Lower Creek town), 12– 13, Chevell, Mademoiselle, 103– 4 44, 82, 167– 68, 178 Chickasaw Indians, 6, 21, 24, 33, 35, 37, 46, Coytmore, Lt. Richard, 114 Index 287

Craven, Gov. Charles (SC), 100 Everard, Sir Richard, 167– 68 Creek Indians, 6, 20, 21, 22, 24, 27, 29, 30, Ewen, William, 110, 121 31, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 39, 44, 45, 46, 53, 56, 61, 63, 64, 65, 70, 71, 74, 76– 77, 77– 78, factor (trade), 105, 108, 130, 131, 140, 143, 175 79– 80, 80– 81, 82, 83, 87, 94, 95, 97, 102, farming, 21, 73, 116, 119, 126, 128, 134, 136, 137, 103, 105, 106, 107, 110, 111– 12, 121, 125, 126, 146–47, 148, 157, 159, 176 127, 129, 130, 132, 134, 135, 138, 142, 145, “father,” 23, 24, 26– 31, 41, 46, 50, 111, 112, 133, 146, 151, 154, 155, 157, 158, 163, 167– 68, 170, 183, 190, 191 172, 173, 174– 75, 177, 178, 179, 183, 185– 86, “fellows,” 82 189, 190 fi rearms, 39– 40, 42, 48, 58, 59, 61, 71, 79, 99, crops, sale of, 128– 30, 132, 133 102, 111, 114– 15, 121, 126, 127, 130, 131, 138, Cuming, Sir Alexander, 32 139 Cusabo Indians, 15, 20, 58, 63 Fischer, Kirsten, 153 Fitch, John Darien, GA, 106 Fitch, Tobias, 44, 79, 90, 102, 174 D’Artaguette, Diron, 61, 74 Fitzwalter, Joseph, 152– 53 DeBrahm, William Gerard, 56, 86, 87 Florida: Spanish, 6, 8, 9, 54, 59, 64, 137; Delaware Indians, 71 French, 68 DeLonguemare, Mary, 99 food, prepared, 128, 130, 136, 140, 160. Demere, Paul, 114, 115, 133 See also crops, trade in Demere, Raymond, 43, 66, 70, 76, 80, 81, Forbes, General John, 114 100, 112– 13, 132, 134, 165, 168, 180– 81 Fort Augusta, 109 Dog King of Palachachola (Creek), 102 Fort Diego (Spanish), 64 Dragging Canoe (Cherokee), 164 Fort Duquesne (French), 71, 114 Duche, Andrew, 110, 181 Fort Hancock (Tuscarora), 97 Duclos, Jean- Baptiste DuBois, 128 Fort Loudoun, 66, 81, 108, 113– 15, 116, 126, Dunbar, Lt., 65 133– 34, 164, 168– 69, 179 Dunlop, William, 136 Fort Moore, 109 Durant, Benjamin, 180 Fort Moosa (Spanish), 64, 172 Fort Neoheroka (Tuscarora), 59, 97 Edisto (Indian town), 17, 19 Fort Prince George, 43, 108, 112, 113, 114– 15, Elliott, John, 132 133, 142, 145, 165, 171 Ellis, Gov. Henry (GA), 79– 80, 80–81, 82, Fort Tombigbe (French), 170– 71 126–27 Fort Toulouse (French), 38, 66, 109, 111 Emistesegoe (Creek), 121, 127, 143 forts, 2, 33, 58, 87, 97, 101, 102, 107– 17, 126, 133, Emory, William, 180 142, 181 Enoe- Will, 95 France. See French Esaugh Indians, 59 Francis, James, 82 Euchee Indians. See Yuchi Indians Frank, Andrew, 173 “eunuch,” as insult, 68, 72. See also insults, French, 6, 8, 9, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 38, 42, 49, gendered 56, 57, 60, 61, 63, 66, 68, 69, 74, 77, 79, 80, Evans, John, Jr. (Cheraw), 177 81, 85, 86, 89, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 100, 103– 4, Evans, Jonathan, Sr., 177, 178– 79 106– 7, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 114, 117, 125, 288 Index

French (continued) Haig, George, 104, 134– 35 126, 128, 131, 133, 152, 154, 160, 168, 169, 170, “Half Breed Johnny” of the Overhills 174, 178, 179, 180, 181, 183, 187 (Cherokee), 178 French and Indian War, 9, 27, 29, 31, 54, 77, “Half Breed of the Tuccobatchees” (Creek), 79, 83, 106– 7, 152 178 “Half- Breed” of Okfuskee (Creek), 178 Gailliard, Phillip, 165 “Half- Breed Tom” (Cherokee), 179 Gale, Christopher, 69 Hancock, Chief (Tuscarora), 87 Galloway, Patricia, 26 Harris, Tom, 144 Galphin, George, 30, 179 Harvey, Lt., 17 Gearing, Fred, 56, 75 Hastings, Th eophilus, 39, 131 gendered insults, 2, 64, 66, 68– 73, 90 Hatley, Tom, 146, 153, 173 Germany, James, 158 Hatteras Indians, 145 Gervais, John Lewis, 164 Hatton, William, 108–9 gifts, 17, 19, 22, 26, 34, 36, 39– 49, 50, 71, 111, Herbert, John, 53, 130 121, 122, 138, 142, 151, 155, 156, 157, 171, 176, Hext, Hugh, 134 177 Hilton, William, 20 Glass (Cherokee), 164 Hiwassee (Cherokee town), 181 Glen, Gov. James (SC), 23, 25, 28, 31, 45, 48, honor, 22, 51– 53, 54, 55, 57, 66, 71, 75, 77, 78, 62, 88, 101, 103, 107– 8, 110, 125, 131– 32, 81, 83, 89, 139 142, 180 Hootleboyau (Cherokee), 138 Good Warrior of Cowee (Cherokee), 164 Hopewell Treaty, 33 Gowdy, Robert, 177 hospitality, 13, 16, 18, 19, 20, 22, 34, 38– 39, 40, Gowing, Laura, 167 41, 129 granaries, 128– 29 Huger, Daniel, 99 Grant, James, 116 Hughes, Pryce, 22, 34 Grant, Gov. James (East Florida), 78 Hughes, Bernard, 121, 131– 32 Grant, Ludovick, 180 Hughes, Mary, 103 Gray, Edmond, 182 hunting, 8, 21, 28, 48, 55, 56, 71, 89, 90, 93, Gray, Mrs., 39 118– 19, 121, 123, 125– 26, 130– 33, 137, 138, Gray, William, 65 140– 47, 157, 163, 171, 176, 185 Great Tellico (Cherokee town), 80, 93, 95, Huspaw King (Yamasee), 1 182 Hustache (Creek), 37 Greene, Nathaniel, 186 Griffi n, Edward, 151, 174 insults, gendered, 2, 64, 66, 68– 73, 90 Grotius, Hugo, 7, 85 intermarriage, 149– 71 guides, 137, 140 interpreter. See translator Gun Merchant of Oakchoy (Creek), 19, 23, Iroquois Indians, 71, 78, 89 28, 29, 111, 125 irregular troops. See militia guns. See fi r e a r m s Jackson, Andrew, 190– 91 Habersham, James, 61 Jenkins, Edward, 37 Haig, Elizabeth, 134– 35 Johns, Lewis, 178–79 Index 289

Johnson, Gov. Robert (SC), 22 Louis- Philippe, 174 Johnson, Samuel, 82 Lyttelton, Gov. William Henry (SC), 35, 80, Johnstone, Gov. George (East Florida), 28, 81, 112, 113, 114, 115, 126, 132, 142 44, 82 Jones, John, 138 Macarty, Cornelius, 91, 98 Jones, Th omas (Creek), 64– 65, 172, 173 MacBean, Lachlan, 135 Mackay, Patrick, 45, 56, 60, 61 Kasihta (Ochese/ Lower Creek town), 80– “madness,” 75– 76 81, 99 Malatchi of Coweta (Creek), 27, 76– 77 Kanagatoga of Chote (aka Old Hopp) Mankiller of Chote (Cherokee), 66 (Cherokee), 25, 27, 29, 42, 112, 113, 165, Mankiller of Hiwassee, 100 168– 69 Mankiller of Tellico, 80 Keeley, Lawrence, 57 Marchand, Sehoy (Creek), 180 Kenard, John, 33 Martin, Gov. John (GA), 83, 185– 86, 189 Keowee (Cherokee town), 43, 62, 108, 110, Matamaha (Yamasee), 136 114, 142, 164, 165, 181, 182– 83 Mathews, Jacob, 121, 135 Keyauwee Indians, 160 matrilineal inheritance, 16, 23, 26, 28, 29, King Altimahaw, 165 31, 34, 35, 68, 73, 116, 131, 138, 150, 151, 154, King Fron (Catawba), 147– 48 172– 73, 178, 179, 189, 190, 191 King George II (1727– 1760), 23, 25, 26, 27, Mattamuskeet Indians, 144 43, 66 Matthews, Maurice, 143 King George III (1760– 1820), 30 Maxwell, James, 182 King Hagler (Catawba), 29, 76 McGillivray, Lachlan, 151, 174– 75, 180 kinship, fi ctive, 6, 10, 11– 12, 16, 17, 23– 31, 34, McGillivray, Alexander, 174– 75, 178, 180 37, 46, 49– 50, 150, 151, 184, 186, 189 McNaire, Charles, 103– 4 McQueen, Elizabeth, 175 Law of Nations, 6– 7, 85, 90, 92, 93 Measel, Luke, 144 Lawson, John, 18, 19, 56, 59, 60, 62, 94, 95, menstrual seclusion, 162– 63 122, 129– 30, 138, 140, 141, 144, 153, 155, 156, mercenaries, 137, 138– 39 158, 159, 160, 162, 166– 67, 169, 174, 176 messenger(s), 3, 16, 37– 38, 137, 140, 142– 43, Le Jau, Francis, 98, 99 179 Le Moyne de Morgues, Jacques, 68 Middleton, Arthur, 109 Lederer, John, 18–19, 20, 87, 89, 90, 140, 150– military titles, 54, 55, 63– 64, 71 51, 152, 177 militia, 2, 57–58, 59, 60, 63, 65, 85, 101, 102, 116 Lee, Rebecca, 135 Minggo Humma Echeto (Choctaw), 70 Lewis, Francis, 134 Mingo Ouma (Chickasaw), 70 linguister. See translator Mississippian societies, 54, 61, 97, 128, 129 Little Carpenter. See Attakullakulla mixed- blood(s), 99, 150, 154, 158, 160, 163, Little Tellico (Cherokee town), 35, 133 165, 169, 172– 84, 190– 91 livestock, 34, 65, 134, 144, 147, 160– 61, 185 Mobile, 79, 104, 133 Longe, Alexander, 163 Mohawk Indians, 90 Louisiana (French), 6, 37, 60, 109, 128 Montague, Gov. Lord Charles Grenville Louisiana (Spanish), 9 (SC), 48 290 Index

Montgomery, James, 179 Old Bracket of Tuckabatchee (Creek), 76 Moore, Francis, 34 Old Hopp. See Kanagatoga Moore, James, Jr., 59 Oulacta Tasca (Chickasaw), 180 Moore, James, Sr., 59 Owen, William, 60 Moore, Johnny (Cherokee), 181 Owens, Mr., 145 Moore, Maximillian, 181 Mortar of Oakchoy (Creek), 27 Paris, Richard, 168 “mother,” 24, 28– 31, 37, 50, 189, 191 Patlaco (Choctaw), 37 mourning war, 89 patriarchy, 5, 11, 23, 26, 31, 39, 98, 102, 111, 116, Moytoy of Keowee (Cherokee “emperor”), 32 150, 154, 172, 189, 190, 191 Muklasa (Creek town), 33, 94 Peggy (Cherokee), 131 Musgrove, Col. John, Sr., 13, 174 Pensacola, 8, 28, 77, 82, 121, 135, 179 Musgrove, Johnny (Creek), 13, 174 Pepper, Daniel, 33, 178, 179 Musgrove, Mary (Matthews Bosomworth) Perdue, Th eda, 86, 173 (aka Coosaponakeesa) (Creek), 13, 31, 36, Périer, Gov. Étienne (Louisiana), 37, 42, 60 38, 121, 135, 151, 173, 174, 180 Pesantubbee, Michelene, 90, 164 Pettygrew, John, 177 Nairne, Th omas, 1, 20, 21, 25, 36, 57, 59, 88, Pickins, Andrew, 86 120, 129, 140, 156– 57, 159, 170 Pight, John, 98, 99 Nancy (Cherokee), 133 Pocotaligo (Yamasee town), 1 Nassuba Mingo (Choctaw), 75 Pon Pon, SC, 172, 174 Natchez Indians, 70, 97 Port Royal, 2, 20, 41 Natchez War, 37, 97 prisoners of war. See captives Nenehebau (Yamasee), 91 Prize, Richard, 99 Neuwirth, Steven, 104 Proprietors, Carolina, 26, 41, 58, 60, 98, 99 Nevill, Mr., 69 providers, men as, 117, 119, 123, 124– 27, 148, New Orleans, 29, 37, 133, 179, 183 185, 186 Nicholas, Alexander, 165 Nicholson, Gov. Francis (SC), 22, 78 Quapaw Indians, 70 noncombatants, 3, 12, 73, 84, 85, 86, 88, 89, Queen Anne, 22, 34 90, 92, 97, 98 Queen Anne’s War, 96 nonwarriors. See noncombatants Queen of Edisto, 21 Nottoway Indians, 70, 97, 181 Queen of Pamunkey (aka Cockoacoeske), 21 Queen of St. Helena, 21 Oakchoy (Creek town), 19 Queen Tenorky (Indian), 121 Oboystabee (Chickasaw), 120 “queens,” Indian, 18, 19, 20– 22, 47 Occaneechi Indians, 18 Quincy, Samuel, 152– 53 Ochese (Lower Creek) Indians, 1– 2, 12, 33 Oconee (Cherokee town), 62 Radcliff e, John, 139 Ogeechee (Creek town), 30 rape, 104– 5, 166, 171, 190 Oglethorpe, James, 18, 32– 33, 59, 64– 66, Raven of Euphersee (Cherokee), 131– 32 143– 44, 153, 172 Raven of Toxaway (Cherokee), 43 Okfuskee (Creek town), 35, 178; fort at, 109 Red Shoes (Choctaw), 74, 96, 170– 71 Index 291

Red Shoes (Koasati/ Coushatta), 152 Smith, Felix, 105 Regulator movement, 146 “sodomy,” 68– 69 Revolution, American, 7, 15, 17, 29, 30, 35, 46, sovereignty, English assumptions of, 26, 32, 54, 83, 117, 146, 148, 159– 60, 164, 178, 184 41, 43, 103, 107, 110, 116, 117, 120, 127 Reynolds, Gov. John (GA), 145 Spain. See Spanish Richardson, William, 42, 182 Spanish, 2, 6, 8, 9, 12– 13, 29, 51, 54, 58, 60, Roanoke Indians, 145 64, 65, 66, 74, 85, 92, 96, 101, 136, 137, 172, Romans, Bernard, 20, 69, 72, 73, 88, 104, 121, 187 146– 47, 157, 159, 160, 167 Spotswood, Gov. Alexander (VA), 105 rum. See alcohol Squirrel King (Chickasaw), 65 runners. See messengers St. Augustine, 2, 8, 59, 60, 64– 66, 137, 172 Russell, Mary, 39 St. Bartholomew’s Parish, SC, 2 St. Julian, Peter, 98 Sachetche of Tuskaseegee (Cherokee), 67 Standing Turkey of Chote (Cherokee), 28, San Marcos, 8 42, 165 Sandford, Robert, 17, 18, 19, 41 Stead, William, 65 Santee Jack, 140 Stecoee (Cherokee town), 121 Santee Indians, 105, 160 Stewart, John, 68, 69 Saponi Indians, 18, 20, 150– 51 Stewart, Rev. Alexander, 145 Savannah, 28, 32, 33, 153, 159, 172, 179 Struthers, William, 103 Savannah Indians, 8, 15, 38, 63, 99, 103, 105 Stuart, John, 29, 44, 66– 67, 78, 114– 15, 164, Saxgotha Township, SC, 102 175, 178 Sayre, Gordon, 166 Summers, Mr., 105 Scenauky (Yamacraw), 33, 34 Indians, 157– 58 Taboca of West Yazoo (Choctaw), 35 Seneca Indians, 78 Taitt, David, 134 Settico (Cherokee town), 114 Tanassee (Cherokee town), 66 settlement Indians, 143– 44 Tasata of Hiwassee (Cherokee), 35 Sewee Indians, 140 Tassittee of Chote (Cherokee), 48 Shawnee Indians, 179 Tatoulimataha (Choctaw), 168 Shoemaker, Nancy, 72 Tellico, Great (Cherokee town), 80, 93, 95, Shulashummashtabe. See Red Shoes 182 Shurttee, Peter (Savannah), 38 Tellico, Little (Cherokee town), 35, 133 Skiagunsta of Great Tellico (Cherokee), 75 Th ompson, Mr., 132 Skiagunsta of Keowee (Cherokee), 67, 71, Timberlake, Henry, 87, 103, 115 108, 183 Timucua Indians, 68 slave catching (Indians capturing Africans), Tistowee (Cherokee), 179 137, 139, 144, 147 Tomatly Town, 98 slave trade, Indian. See slavery, Indian Tomatley Mingo of Ceneacha (Choctaw), 72 slavery, Indian, 2, 3, 8, 33, 54, 85, 86, 91– 100, Tomochichi (Yamacraw), 33, 34, 45 101, 103, 111, 113 Tomotley (Cherokee town), 113, 132 slaves, Indian. See slavery, Indian Tonyn, Gov. Patrick (East Florida), 29– 30 Smith, Abraham, 182–83 Tooannahowi (Yamacraw), 33 292 Index

Toolodeha (Chenehaw?), 99 Washington, George, 185, 186 “Toopsa Táwah” (“make haste marriage”), 155 Waties, William, 105 Toquo (Cherokee town), 168 Wawhatchee of Keowee (Cherokee), 27 torture, 55, 62, 68, 69, 72, 88, 89, 90, 93, 100 Waxsaw Indians, 18, 19, 20, 95. See also Townsend, Mary, 135 Catawba traders, 1, 3, 12, 22, 26, 30, 33, 34, 37, 45, 46, Westo Indians, 8, 15, 18, 58– 59, 63, 87, 89, 47, 56, 63, 65, 72, 76, 91, 96, 98, 99, 100, 99, 100 103, 107, 110, 111, 114– 15, 120, 122, 123, 124, White, Andrew (Cherokee), 182– 83 127, 128, 129, 131– 32, 133, 134– 35, 136, 137, White, Richard, 7 138, 140, 141, 142, 143, 149– 84, 188, 191 White Captain (Seminole), 157 trading girls, 155, 156, 167 White Dog of the Valley (Cherokee), 164 translator, 13, 27, 36, 37, 38, 45, 64, 137, 140, Williamsbourgh, SC, 101 150, 172, 174, 178– 79, 180, 181, 182 Willinawaw (Cherokee), 164 Trexler, Richard, 68– 69 Winn, Matthew, 144 Trustees of Georgia, 135 Wolf (Creek), 158 Tuckabatchee (Creek town), 174, 179 Wolf of New Nackalassa (Creek), 33 Tugalo (Cherokee town), 97, 109 Wolf of Oakchoy (Creek), 33, 111 Tuscany (Yamacraw), 152 “woman,” as insult, 2, 64, 68– 73, 90. See also Tuscarora Indians, 2, 15, 63, 69, 97, 100, 105, insults, gendered 144 Wood, Abraham, 61 Tuscarora War, 8, 69, 78, 86, 87, 97, 101, 102, Wood, Alex, 142 152, 165 Woolenawa of Tanassee (Cherokee), 66 Tuscaucey (Chickasaw), 74 Wright, George, 98 Tuskenehau (Chenehaw), 99 Wright, Lt. Gov. James (GA), 81– 82 Wright, John, 1 “uncle,” 24, 27 Wright, Joseph, 179 Usner, Daniel, 132 Wright, Richard, 65

Vattel, Emmerich de, 7, 85 Yamacraw Indians, 33, 34, 45, 152 Yamasee Indians, 1– 3, 15, 63, 91, 94, 96, 97, Waccamaw Indians, 44 100, 109, 136– 37 Wall, Lt. Robert, 142– 43 Yamasee War, 1– 3, 8, 12, 15, 16, 41, 46, 78, 86, Ward, Bryan, 152 97, 100, 101, 107, 108, 109, 141, 152, 165 Ward, Nancy (aka Nan- ye- hi) (Cherokee), Yazoo Indians, 37 21, 31, 36, 87– 88, 152 Yorogotogaskee (Cherokee), 138 war names. See military titles Youho-lo- mecco (Abeca/Creek), 95 war woman (Cherokee), 21, 73, 87– 88 Yuchi, 28, 64, 106, 120