Although Indian Superintendent John Stuart pledged repeatedly to restrain any warlike activities by the Indians against white settlers, it became increasingly obvious to both Tories and Whigs that the natives were alienated from the Americans and supportive of the British cause. Stuart was spending most of his time in Florida, either in St. Augustine or Pensacola, but his deputy, Alexander Cameron, lived in a mansion in western South Carolina, not far from the Savannah River, and in Stuart’s absence was inclined to act more boldly and independently than was warranted. His other base of operations was west of the Chattahoochee in Tallassee, on the major Indian trading route from Mobile to Augusta. Perhaps more than any other British official, he had an intimate personal relationship with the Cherokees in the southeast.

Cameron had taken an Indian chief’s daughter as a mistress, and they lived as man and wife. Instead of being at all ashamed of his native spouse, he delighted in having his “Indian princess” preside over elaborate parties, dressed in the finest and most stylish attire that could be bought in Charles Town. During their years together, she bore him three children, two of them boys. Over time she cast aside her earlier subservience in the presence of her husband. She was a beautiful and strong-willed woman called Blue Star, and much of Cameron’s effectiveness in carrying out his duties was dependent on her relationship with the native leaders. To enhance her influence, she was permitted to travel to the key villages, with an appropriate entourage, to distribute presents—ostensibly from her and Cameron but made available by the British government (often without its knowledge or approval)—to keep the Cherokees friendly and loyal.

One August morning in 1776, Blue Star walked into their mansion’s library and told her husband, “There is a scout from the Florida Rangers here to see you.”

When a Creek warrior was ushered into the house, he had a brief message for Cameron: “Commander Thomas Brown plans to visit you tomorrow, at midmorning.” Cameron was intrigued with the news, because he had known of Brown as a relatively timid and inept agent of the governor of South Carolina, later the disgraced “Burnfoot” Brown, and, during recent months, the bold and remarkably successful leader of the Florida Rangers. He couldn’t imagine the purpose of Brown’s visit.

The next morning, Brown arrived at Cameron’s home as scheduled, accompanied by almost a dozen men, three of them Indians. When Cameron invited the group onto the porch, Brown responded that he wished to speak privately to their host. As the other men tied their horses and were ushered into the kitchen area for some coffee and sweet cakes, Brown and Cameron entered the library, and Cameron closed the door. He noticed that his guest walked with a slight limp but exuded the aura of a natural leader, sure of himself and obviously speaking with authority.