Everyone knew that Indian Superintendent Stuart represented the king directly in dealing with all the tribes along the Atlantic Coast. There had been intense arguments about his performance in this same tavern. The point of view about him was the best indication of a man’s attitude toward the officials in Charles Town and Savannah, even though Stuart represented the crown directly and governors could not tell him what to do. Last night, one of the hotheaded young men from Augusta had claimed that Stuart was stirring up the Indians and encouraging them to attack any settlers who were publicly critical of London’s policies or who expressed approval of the Minutemen, who were confronting British troops in New York and Massachusetts. Although there were differences among them, the local men in the tavern were all British subjects, and most of them just wanted to take care of their families, work their land, sell their produce, live in peace, and avoid any direct involvement in the increasingly intense disputes between the Tories and Whigs. They were uncomfortable, but somewhat intrigued, when any of the radical and sometimes violent Sons of Liberty paid a visit to the community.

Simon, although one of the more militant local citizens, thought it was best to be cautious and comply with what Brown wanted to hear. “There are some that think Stuart stirs up the savages, but others feel that he is doing a fair job. In any case, he helps us with our trade.”

Brown nodded and said, “Peace is what we want, for the Cherokees and Creeks to leave us alone and for us not to fight our neighbors.”

The men seemed to agree but did not reply.

He decided to give a better indication of his own sentiments. “I’ve just come from Charles Town and am glad to see Parliament resolving the problems with the colonies. Closing the seaports in the north was a bad move, and the king is very anxious to have full trade and to give all British subjects equal treatment.”

With the passage of the ale pitcher, the men were becoming more inclined to talk freely and to agree with the generous visitor.

“Yes, a little corn went from South Carolina to Massachusetts last year when Boston was put under quarantine for destroying the tea, but what we want here is to be treated proper and left alone.”

Brown was quick to respond, wanting to carry out his somewhat sensitive assignment but without starting an argument with the men. “It’s just a few radical Whigs who are causing the problem, wanting to resolve misunderstandings with violence and even murder. I’ve heard tell of cases where some young hoodlums have attacked their own neighbors who remain loyal to the crown.”

The men glanced at each other, knowing that for several months they had not been free to express their frank opinions in a community that was becoming increasingly polarized.