Fort Christanna, built in 1713 by Governor Spotswood, is probably the most well kept secret and least documented forts of American History. What you are about to read is mostly speculation, given that we have only a basic outline and have to fill in the blanks ourselves.  Much of this information is derived from Occaneechi History as well as documents and articles retrieved.  The information regarding the dispersal of the tribes is derived from genealogical research of the rooted families of Brunswick, Greensville and Mecklenburg Counties as well as Northampton County, NC.

Prior to the Fort being built, the English were rather antsy due to the massacres that surrounded the Tuscarora War in North Carolina.   It was at this time that Governor Alexander Spotswood of Virginia decided that for the safety of the white settlements living in Greensville, Brunswick and Mecklenburg Counties and the friendly Native Americans living in the area, he would confine them all to one living quarter.  Thus, Fort Christanna, named for Christ and Queen Anne was built. In this settlement, the Occaneechi, the Monacan, the Eno, the Tutelo and the Saponi all came together.  A melting pot of tribes if you will, all of Eastern Siouan stock, who among diaspora descendants, often referred to themselves as Blackfoot. The Fort was located in Brunswick County.  The surrounding reservation encompassed roughly four square miles, with the Meherrin River running through the center.  On the North side of the Meherrin were the Nansemond, since they were of different cultures and language.  All the children were sent to a school devised by Governor Spotswood to teach them Christianity and English.  This school was sponosored by the College of William and Mary and Mr. Griffen was solicited to teach the youths.

On the South side of the Meherrin were the Occaneechi, the Tutelo, the Saponi and the Eno.  All of these tribes were of the same language and customs.  In a letter to the Bishop of England, Governor Spotswood notes that he will call these tribes the “Saponie Nation.”   They farmed the land with corn and tobacco, they had their livestock (minimal at best) and survived on this reservation for only four to five years.  The Governor had placed a number of gun units at the palisade for protection. Whether this was protection of the English in the community or protection of the Natives, is not known.  In 1720, Governor Spotswood declared that the Fort be dispersed and the tribes to move in separate directions.

While it seems that the majority of the tribes left the area, recent research and genealogical documents prove this theory otherwise.  Many local families living in the counties of Greensville, Brunswick and Mecklenburg in VA and Northampton County, NC can prove Native Ancestry and these “English” names can be traced back to the early 1700′s.  For example, in Brunswick County, the Travis’, the Early’s and the Newsomes are traceable Native American names.  In Greensville County, the Peters can be traced back to 1720 (ca.) where they were listed as a free persons of color.  The Turners are another prominent Native name found in Greensville County.  In Northampton County, NC, the Poythress, Peters, Turners, Bass, Scotts and Newsomes made up a core community called the “Portuguese Community.”

Although local legend has it that these people are descendants of the Portuguese workers brought in to work on the Railroad in Roanoke River, these names can be traced back also to the mid 1700′s, prior to the Portuguese ever arriving in Northampton and Halifax Counties, NC.  All these communities, as well as many others, are known as tri-racial isolate communities.  In reality, they were remnants of Fort Christanna that never migrated far from the grounds of the Fort.

One of the most well kept secrets.

One summer evening, scarcely an hour before sunset, the father of a family lay in his lodge, dying. Weeping beside him were his wife and three children. Two of them were almost grown up; the youngest was but a small child.

These were the only human beings near the dying man, for the lodge stood on a little green mound away from all others of the tribe.

A breeze from the lake gave the sick man a brief return of strength. He raised himself a little and addressed his family.

“I know that I will leave you soon. Your mother, my partner of many years, will not stay long behind. She will soon join me in the pleasant land of spirits. But, O my children, my poor children! You have just begun life. All unkindness and other wickedness’s are still before you.

“I have contented myself with the company of your mother and yourselves for many years, in order to keep you from evil example. I will die content, my children, if you will promise me to love each other. Promise me that on no account will you forsake your youngest brother. I leave him in your charge. Love him and hold him dear.”

The effort to speak exhausted the sick man. But taking a hand of each of his older children, he continued his plea. “My daughter, never forsake your little brother! My son, never forsake your little brother!”

“Never, never!” they both exclaimed.

“Never, never!” repeated the father. And then he died, happily sure that his command would be obeyed.

Time wore heavily away. Five long moons passed, and when the sixth moon was nearly full, the mother also died. In her last moments she reminded the two older children of their promise to their father. Willingly they renewed their promise to take care of their little brother. They were still free from any selfishness.

The winter passed away, and spring came. The girl, the oldest, directed her brothers. She seemed to feel an especially tender and sisterly affection for the youngest, who was sickly and delicate. The older boy, however, already showed signs of selfishness. One day he spoke sharply to his sister.

“My sister, are we always to live as if there were no other human beings in the world? Must I never associate with other men? I am going to visit the villages of my tribe. I have made up my mind, and you cannot prevent me.”

“My brother,” replied his sister, “I do not say no to what you wish. We were not forbidden to associate with others, but we were commanded never to forsake each other. If we separate to follow our own selfish desires, will we not be compelled to forsake our young brother? Both of us have promised to take care of him.”

Making no reply, the young man picked up his bow and arrows, left the wigwam, and returned no more.

For many moons the girl took kindly care of her little brother. At last however, she too began to weary of their solitude and wished to escape from her duty. Her strength and her ability to provide food and clothing had increased through the years, but so had her desire for company. Her solitude troubled her more and more, as the years went slowly by. At last, thinking only of herself, she decided to forsake her little brother, as the older brother had already done.

One day, she placed in the lodge all the food she had gathered. After bringing a pile of wood to the door, she said to her young brother, “Do not stray far from the lodge while I am gone. I am going to look for our brother. I shall soon be back.”

Then taking her bundle, she set off for the villages. She found a pleasant one on the shore of a lake. Soon she became so much occupied with the pleasures of her new life that her affection for her brother gradually left her heart. In time, she was married. For a long time, she did not even think of the sickly little brother she had left in the woods.

In the meantime the older brother had settled in a village on the same lake, not far from the graves of their parents and the solitary home of the little brother.

As soon as the little fellow had eaten all the food left by his sister, he had to pick berries and dig roots. Winter came on, and the poor child was exposed to its cold winds. Snow covered the earth. Forced to leave the lodge in search of food, he strayed far without shelter. Sometimes he passed the night in the crotch of an old tree and ate the fragments left by wolves.

Soon he had to depend for his food entirely on what the wolves did not eat. He became so fearless that he would sit close to them while they devoured the animals they had killed. His condition aroused the pity of the animals, and they always left something for him. Thus he lived on the kindness of the wolves until spring came. As soon as the lake was free from ice, he followed his new friends and companions to the shore.

Now it happened that his brother was fishing in his canoe, far out on the same lake, when he thought he heard the cry of a child. “How can any child live on this bleak shore?” he said to himself. He listened again, and he thought he heard the cry repeated. Paddling toward the shore as quickly as possible, he saw and recognized his brother. The young one was singing,

My brother, my brother! I am now turning into a wolf. I am turning into a wolf!

At the end of his song, he howled like a wolf. His brother, approaching, was shocked to find him half a wolf and half a human being. Leaping to the shore, the older brother tried to catch him in his arms. Soothingly he said, “My brother, my brother, come to me!”

But the boy fled, still singing as he ran, “I am turning into a wolf! I am turning into a wolf!” And at the end of his song he howled a terrifying howl.

Conscience-stricken, feeling his love return to his heart, his brother called to him, “My brother, O my brother! Come back to me!”

But the nearer he came to the child, the more rapidly the change to a wolf took place. Still the younger brother sang his song, and still he howled. Sometimes he called on his brother, and sometimes he called on his sister. When the change was complete, he ran toward the wood. He knew that he was a wolf. “I am a wolf! I am a wolf!” he cried, as he bounded out of sight.

The older brother, all the rest of his life, felt a gnawing sense of guilt. And the sister, when she heard what had happened to her little brother, remembered with grief the promise she had solemnly made to their father. She wept many tears and never ceased to mourn until her death.

http://www.indigenouspeople.net/forsbrot.htm

[1]
Everybody sang a song. One of them sang a song. The cloud of disease went back a little way. He stopped and another sang a song. It went back a little way. While he was singing it went farther back. Again one of them sang a song and it went back a little way. Three of them had sung. “Come, you sing.” When he had sung he saw it had gone back a little way. Four had sung. When he had finished that song another one sang. And when he looked he saw it had gone back a little way. He found out it would do that way. Six had sung. Again another one sang. Seven had sung. It had gone back a little way, it was afraid of that one’s singing. “A little way it has gone back,” he said. Again another sang. Eight had sung. Again another one sang. Nine had sung. He was surprised to see it had gone back a little way.

The sticks of wood were leaning up. Then when the tenth on had sung he put the stick in the fire and leaned the bark around it. Then they sang another song and danced, circling around the fire. The ceremony lasted ten days. Five days the priest built the fire and five days they danced. He carefully avoided saying anything wrong. When they stopped after ten days, he looked. He was surprised to see that the sickness which had been in the world had gone. It had melted away. “This way it will be when Indians become. If they sing this way it will be afraid. If they dance around the fire this way the people will live happily again.”

Footnotes:

[1] Told at Hupa, December 1901, by Senaxon.

This formula is repeated by the priest while he collects the bark used for the fire of the dance. He goes alone, or with a virgin, to the mountainside west of the TakimiLdiñ, setting out in the middle of the afternoon and returning after dark.
Hupa Texts, by Pliny Earle Goddard; (University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology 1:2); [1904] and is now in the public domain.

[1]
Ten brothers lived at Yastsime. One of them went away toward the south. At the end of the world to the south he stayed. After a time he felt the wind blow on him. Frost rolled out of the ground in big chunks. “What is it going to do?” he thought. He took some incense root with him and started back south. When he came back to Yastsime he looked around. He saw nothing. He went on and came down opposite Mīme. He was surprised to see some one sitting there. He turned about and went again to Yastsime. “What is the matter here?” he asked. From some place he heard a voice say, “Indians will become.” Here at the world’s end toward the north sickness flew up. “Those weather spirits who used to be here have gone away,” he told him.

Then that one, who used to stay at the world’s end at the south, started down the river. When he came to the creek above Eslick’s he built a fire. Then he went on down, coming out on the river bank south of Xaslindiñ. He saw someone sitting above Xaslindiñ. He built a fire there where a pepper wood tree was standing. He went down to Sugar Bowl. The wind was so cold he could hardly face it. He saw someone had taken up his abode each side of the fishing place at Sugar Bowl.

Then crossing the river he went below Nilinkindiñ. He turned back to Nilinkindiñ and built a fire there. “Here he will do this who knows my body,” he thought. Then he put incense root into the fire. He started down river climbing the mountain. When he got up the hill he was warm. “This way it will be,” he thought, “when Indians come to be.” He built a fire on top of the hill and then went down to the northern side.

On the north side of the creek opposite Djictañadiñ above the trail he built a fire. Then he commenced to talk. “Here they will build a fire,” he thought. “I first of all will know Indians’ hearts when they pass.”

Then he started back. “I will lean my foot up this way. The wind will blow up from the ground. They will call me first at the end of the world toward the south where I used to live. Then they will call me here at the end of the world toward the north. There he stays who first knew it.” “This way they will do if frost comes,” he thought. “Just this way it will happen to the one who talks about my body. In the fashion of the Indian world he will let go from his hand the incense. The wind, just a little warm, will blow gently, if they put this incense in the fire. The fog will stay in the middle of the mountain.” This way he established it.

“West it will draw back, north too it will draw back, east too it will draw back, south it will draw back. There will be sunshine. It will be good weather in the world. It will be wet. The frost that used to be will melt. It will settle down. I brought it down.”

Footnotes:

[1] Told at Hupa, December 1901, by Emma Lewis, whose father belonged to the southern division of the Hupa.

Hupa Texts, by Pliny Earle Goddard; (University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology 1:2); [1904] and is now in the public domain.

Formula of the Jumping Dance – Hupa

[1]
When that Indian was becoming a Kīxûnai he worked making kiseaqōt. He worked on them every day. He finished one each day without eating, so quickly he made them. They did not see him any longer. They thought he was dead.

Then after a while he came back. “I just came back to tell you what it is they will do up the river on the bank. That will be the place for eating the acorn soup. The pipe will lie buried there. That dance too will be held here. The way they do over in the Kīxûnai world; that way they will make the dance here. In the way of the Kīxûnai world they will dance.” He, the priest, must not talk about the wind that blows from the south. He must talk about the ten winds which blow down from the world above. These will blow down here. Ye winds which never blow in the Indian world, blow down here. People will live to old age if they blow on them. He always pounds incense and scatters it there.

Footnotes:

[1] Told at Hupa, November 1901, by Senaxon.

This formula is repeated by the priest while preparing the ground where the dancers stand in the Jumping Dance at TakimiLdiñ. He is assisted in this work by a woman. The stones and sticks are removed. The priest then strews the powdered roots of Leptotaenia Californica over the ground on which the dancers are to stand. The formula is repeated as the root is scattered. The priest does not drink water during the ten days of the dance. He omits the customary daily bath in the river or otherwise it will rain. He fasts each day of the dance until the ceremony is completed for the day. He stripes his body with charred Leptotaenia root beginning at his wrists.

Hupa Texts, by Pliny Earle Goddard; (University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology 1:2); [1904] and is now in the public domain.