Cherokee Nation officials commemorate the 175th anniversary of the Trail of Tears

Staff Reports news@grovesun.com

TAHLEQUAH, Okla. — Monday, March 24 marks the 175th year since the Cherokee Nation’s journey along the Trail of Tears. The final group of Cherokees arrived March 24, 1839, in Indian Territory, near present-day Tahlequah.

The first detachment of Cherokees was forcibly removed from their homelands in the southeast beginning in 1838.

After spending months in concentration camps (called stockades to make it sound better), with little shelter and food not fit for human consumption, they were divided up in detachments and sent west. They survived one of the coldest winters on record and at one point, according to the journal of Rev. Daniel S. Butrick, approximately 8000 were stranded by the ice on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. They were freezing and there was sickness and death everywhere. Despite this, as a nation, they endured and survived. They reached Indian Territory and rebuilt their nation in an untamed land and they thrived. While the Trail of Tears is a sad part of our history, it serves as an example of the strength of the Cherokees. They couldn't prevent the removal, but they could triumph over it. They did, so never forget. 

Out of the 15,000 Cherokee who endured the forced migration west after the Treaty of 1835, it is estimated that several thousand died along the way or in internment camps. The Cherokees call the removal "Nunna-da-ul-tsun-yi," which means “the place where they cried.” Today, it is known as the Trail of Tears.

President Andrew Jackson’s biographer, Robert Remini, wrote this of the experience for the Cherokee people:

“Men were seized in the fields; women were taken from their wheels and children from their play. As they turned for one last glimpse of their homes they frequently saw them in flames, set ablaze by the lawless rabble that followed the soldiers, scavenging what they could. These outlaws stole the cattle and other livestock and even desecrated graves in their search for silver pendants and other valuables.”

Trail of Tears Stories That Should Not Be Forgotten

From The American Native Press Archives and Sequoyah Research Center

Woodall, Bettie

September 20, 1937
James R. Carselowey
Interviewer
An Interview with Bettie Perdue Woodall
Welch, Oklahoma

Old Indian Days

My name is Elizabeth Perdue Woodall, but I have always been called "Bettie". I was born near Westville, Indian Territory, December 6, 1851. My father's name was James Perdue, a half-breed Cherokee Indian. My other, Dollie Thornton Perdue, was a white woman. Both were born in Georgia. They were married in 1838, and came immediately with the eastern emigrants over the Trail of Tears to their new home west of the Mississippi, settling in Going Snake District, in the new Cherokee Nation.

The Trail of Tears.

Some histories say that on the Trail of Tears all the women and children were allowed to ride; but my mother told me that not a single woman rode unless she was sick and not able to walk. My mother walked every step of the way over here.
The Government furnished green coffee in the grain for the Indians along the route. Many of them had never seen coffee and did not know how to make it. Some of them put the coffee in a pot with meat and were trying to cook it like beans when my mother came along and some Indian woman said, "Ask her, She white woman." My mother said she just had to laugh the way they were trying to cook that coffee. She took some of the green coffee, roasted it in a pan over their fire, put the parched grains in a cloth and pounded it up, and made them a pot of coffee. They all liked it and said she was a smart white woman.
She also showed them how to cook their rice. It seems they all thought everything had to be cooked with meat, but in this way the young white woman became very popular and much loved by her newly made friends.
My mother told me about many of the hardships and privations she and the rest of the women suffered while on their way from Georgia. Some of them were almost unbelievable, yet I know they are true, for my mother would have had no motive in telling it if it had not been so.
On one occasion she told of an officer in charge of one of the wagons, who killed a little baby because it cried all the time. It was only four days old and the mother was forced to walk and carry it, and because it cried all of the time and the young mother could not quiet it, the officer took it away from her and dashed its little head against a tree and killed it.  

Alexander, Jobe

May 3, 1938
Jesse S. Bell-Investigator
Indian-Pioneer History, S-149
Interview with Jobe Alexander
Proctor, Oklahoma
I am a full blood Cherokee Indian born in Going-Lake District, Indian Territory, Cherokee Nation, March 10, 1854, and raised there. My father, Dun-Ev-Nall Alexander was born in Georgia and was driven West during the immigration. All the Indians were gathered up or rounded up by Federal soldiers and put in pens and guarded until ready for the move; they were gathered up by the "Clans" and left their gardens and crops, and some of the old homes of the Cherokee are still standing in Georgia.

The last group that was rounded up revolted; the leader gave the signal to revolt and all turned on the guards and took their guns away and murdered the guards and they made for hide aways in the mountains. That is why the Indians are back in North Carolina, Tennessee, and Georgia. They never were found or hunted much.

Anderson, Lilian

August 20, 1837
Margaret McGurie
Field Worker
An Interview with Lilian Anderson
Eufaula, Oklahoma

Life story of her grandfather, Washington Lee, Cherokee Indian

In 1838, my grandfather, Washington Lee, came to the Territory and stopped at Westville. He was driven from his home in Georgia over the Trail of Tears with all the other Cherokee Indians and while on the trail somewhere he lost his father and mother and sister, and never saw them any more. He did not know whether they died or got lost.

The Cherokees had to walk; all the old people who were too weak to walk could ride in the Government wagons that hauled the food and the blankets which they allowed to have. The food was most always cornbread or roasted green corn. Some times the men who had charge of the Indians would kill a buffalo and would let the Indians cut some of it and roast it.

The food on the Trail of Tears was very bad and very scarce and the Indians would go for two of three days without water, which they would get just when they came to a creek or river as there were no wells to get water from. There were no roads to travel over, as the country was just a wilderness. The men and women would go ahead of the wagons and cut the timber out of the way with axes.
This trail started in Georgia and went across Kentucky, Tennessee and through Missouri into the Territory and ended at Westville, where old Fort Payne was. Old Fort Wayne was built to shelter the Indians until some houses could be built.

Aunt Chin Deanawash was my grandmother's sister and she came from Georgia on the Trail of Tears. Her husband died shortly after they got out of Georgia and left her to battle her way through with three small children, one who could not walk. Aunt Chin tied the little one on her back with an old shawl, she took one child in her arms and led the other by the hand; the two larger children died before they had gone so very far and the little one died and Aunt Chin took a broken case knife and dug a grave and buried the little body by the side of the Trail of Tears.

The Indians did not have food of the right kind to eat and Aunt Chin came on alone and lived for years after this.

Chambers, Jennie McCoy

Mary D. Dorward,
Field Worker
Jennie McCoy Chambers
A Biographical Sketch
From a personal Interview with the Subject.
(1530 East 14th Street; Tulsa, Okla.)
(The subject of this sketch was very difficult to interview, for, while she was very willing to talk, she is very deaf, is eighty-three years old, and her mind seems to wander.)

Jennie McCoy Chambers was born April 24, 1854, in the Koo-wee-skoo-wee (her spelling) district of the Cherokee Nation, near the town of now Claremore. The house, a log cabin, still stands. It is at the north end of Claremore Lake on Dog Creek, has two large rooms and a small room downstairs and a room upstairs. Has clapboard doors.

Mrs. McCoy is about half Cherokee (which she calls Cher o 'kee, just as she says Tahl ee 'quah), her mother, Mary Hicks, coming over the Trail of Tears from Alabama when a child. Her father, Joseph McCoy, was a rancher and the family lived on the place near Claremore until the Civil War when they went over near Saline, and "refugeed" in the Cherokee Nation until the close of the War. Evidently they did not remain at Saline because she said that she and her sister many times walked from Tahlequah to Fort Smith and back for supplies from the Government, and many times they almost starved. Her people sympathized with the Union.

Incidents of the Trail of Tears

Mrs. Chambers' grandfather and grandmother Hicks, together with her own mother, came in the emigrant train over the Trail. On the way they picked up to children who were lost. One, a boy whose people had all died of smallpox, came to them when they were encamped along a creek. He was known as S. S. Stevens and never knew but what he was an Indian. The other child was a little girl who knew no name but Polly. When she grew older she married and was known as Aunt Polly Myers.

Cook, Wallace

March 17, 1937
Cook, Wallace
Grace Kelley, Field Worker

When my grandfather, Emeithle Harjo, was twenty-five or thirty years old, he was removed to the Indian Territory, from Alabama. The boat that he was to cross the Mississippi in was a dilapidated affair and sank in the Mississippi River. He swam pretty near all night saving the women and children. They were all brought here and turned loose like something wild. He had to walk from here to the Fort Gibson to get the axe and gun that the Government promised and gave to him. He built his home across the highway from here. There are some house there but they are not the ones he built, they burned, and rotted down

Jones, Joanna nee McGhee

July 15, 1937
Interview with Mrs. Joanna Jones nee McGhee
128 K, N. E.
Mrs. Thos. Walker
Miami, Oklahoma
Mannie Lee Burns, Interviewer
Indian-Pioneer History S-149
Grant Foreman, Director
My mother was Susie Beck, a Cherokee and the daughter of Charlotte Downing and Ellis Beck and she was born in Georgia. My father was Albert McGhee. I do not remember the dates of their births.

Removal to Indian Territory

My mother was about twelve years old when they were forced to leave Georgia and I have heard her say that before they left their homes there that the white people would come into their houses and look things over and when they found something that they liked, they would say, "This is mine, I am going to have it", etc. When they were gathering their things to start they were driven from their homes and collected together like so many cattle. Some would try to take along something which they loved, but were forced to leave it, if it was of any size. The trip was made in covered wagons and this made many of the women sick, but they were forced along just the same. When they reached streams and rivers, they did not want to cross and they were dragged on the boats.
Grandmother always remembered it and I have often heard her say, "Some day you will be taxed out of your homes here just as we were."  

Lewis, D. B.

Thomas and Lewis Stories
An interview of D. B. Lewis, age 36, of Eufaula town
 Henryetta, Oklahoma.

The story of a singing river was told by an old man by the name of Holly Thomas who use to live three or four miles southeast of Eufaula, but he has been dead for some years. His father and mother had come over to the new country from the eastern home during the removal and so the story had been told to Holly of the sorrows at the time of the removal and what the conditions were at that time. He was a small child during that time but he was told all stories about the times when he had become a young man. Those old folks never could cease from talking about and telling of the hardships they experienced along their trip often known as the Trail of Tears.

This story of the singing river was told to Holly by his father. It is not exactly known whether the incident connected with this story happened in the Mississippi River or the Tennessee River but it was the Creek Indians that it was told about. This was told as it actually happened but it was a very strange incident. As some of the Indians had been brought to the river to be put aboard the ships that were to carry them part of the way by a water route, some began to form ideas that they did not fully want to leave their old homes and further, some resolved never to set foot on the ships so that they couldn't be forced to suffer any more hardships.
They thought it would be best to end all relations with their superior officers so that they began to fight them. In the attempts to check the rebellion the officers had to use weapons and some of the Indians were killed as they tried to run off into the woods. Seeing the rebellious attitude of the Indians the white officers grabbed any Indian and pushed or forced them into the ships. The officers readily killed any Indian on board the ships that seemed to be in a rebellious attitude, but there were some Indians who did not take part in the uprising but they were the eye witnesses to those Indians who were killed on board the ships and thrown overboard into the waters of the river. Some of them that were left unharmed said, "Even we will die here but not by guns." With this, they took hold of one another's hands and stepped off into a large suck hole that was in the river and went to their deaths singing a song. It is told that many years later, the words of the song which had been sung by those Indians could be heard at certain times so that many people from foreign countries and people from different places in this country have made trips to this vicinity in attempts to record the tune and words of the song, but no one has ever been successful. 

Lewis, S. R.

Chauncey O. Moore, Supervisor
Indian-Pioneer History S-14
Lawrence D. Hibbs
Field Worker
Interview: S. R. Lewis

Old Timers

Major Ridge, a full blood Cherokee Indian, who married a white woman and his son, John Ridge, who also married a white woman, came to what is now Delaware County, Indian Territory, from Georgia in the year of 1835. John Ridge, the son, had a college education and both men were considered rich men.
They opened a trading post near the Arkansas State line. (This store may have been called Ridge's Store.) They employed one, William Childers, as a clerk in this trading post. Later they gave William Childers $8,000.00 to go to New Orleans to buy supplies for this store. He made the trip by way of the Arkansas and Mississippi Rivers, buying the supplies and returning to the trading post.

The Ridges, father and son, were signers of the Treaty of 1835, and which, later, was the cause of their deaths.

After the general removal of the Cherokees to Indian Territory in 1838, the two Ridges (Major and John) were assassinated by their own tribe, the reason being that because these two men signed the treaty disposing of the Cherokee country east of the Mississippi River for land in Indian Territory, the tribe thought they had been betrayed and sold out by their supposed friends. They were killed in different sections, but on the same day. Major Ridge was killed somewhere near the Arkansas State line, on the same day a relative of theirs was killed near Parkhill, which is about six miles south of Tahlequah.
The wives of the two Ridges, being white women, feared for their lives after the death of their husbands and they moved to Arkansas, remaining there until their deaths.

Mann, Richard

RICHARD C. MANN
by
O. C. Davidson
I was born Jan. 20, 1872 in the Going Snake District of the Cherokee Nation, at Oaks, one of the two oldest towns in the Cherokee Nation. I am a full blood Cherokee; my mother, Elizabeth Miller came from Georgia in the Trail of Tears in 1832, when the Indians were driven out of Georgia at the point of bayonet and brought here like live-stock.

They came here by boats, landed at the mouth of the Verdigris River. A rock with the date of their landing carved on it still marks the spot of their landing.
Upon their arrival here the Creek and Cherokee tribes separated. The Creeks going west of Grand River and the Cherokees settling east of the Grand River.

Upon coming here the Cherokees were permitted to take claims at the land they wanted, anywhere east of Grand River. The stipulations of the treaty were that this land was to be theirs as long as grass grew and the waters run. But later, the white mans greed for this beautiful and valuable country became so strong that, they went to work and legislated laws in Washington where by this country might be surveyed and divided up, allowing each Indian just so much land as a homestead and certain allotment of surplus other than their homesteads.


The full blood Indians never did agree to this allotment system but were forced to accept it.

Payne, Mary

May 10, 1937
Miss Ella Robinson
Research Field Worker
Mrs. Mary Payne
521 South Third
Muskogee, Oklahoma

Life and Experience of a Cherokee Woman

My father was David Israel, a full-blood Cherokee and my mother was Martha Jane Miller Israel, a quarter Cherokee. They were born in Georgia. My mother in 1836 and my father in 1837. They were brought to Indian Territory by their parents over the "Trail of Tears" when the Indians were driven from their eastern homes by the United States Troops.

They were too young to know of the tragedies and sorrows of that terrible event. My aunt, who was 15 years old at the time, told me of the awful suffering along the journey. Almost everyone had to walk as the conveyance they had were inadequate for transporting what few possessions they had and their meager supply of food. Only the old people and little children were allowed to ride. They died by the hundreds and were buried by the roadside. As they were not allowed to remove any of their household goods, they arrived at their destination with nothing with which to start housekeeping

Pennington, Josephine

October 12, 1937
D. W. Wilson
Investigator
Interview with Mrs. Josephine Pennington
Hulbert, Oklahoma
The scene of this story as given by Mrs. Pennington starts far back in the dawn of Cherokee history. It deals with her forefathers before wrongs were done to these proud Cherokee back in Tennessee and Georgia; with their weary journey westward over the Trail of Tears. The Cherokees' first constitution according to the Cherokee laws; the Cherokees' first Principal Chief, John Ross; stirring events of the Civil War; the coming of the wild bands of painted Indians from other parts of the United States brought by the Government into the Indian Territory to occupy a part of the Cherokee lands that they were compelled by the Government to sell for this purpose.
Progress is to be noted in Mrs. Pennington's recital, for they builded schools and churches, towns and cities, from savagery among the wild Indians to our present great state we have today.
Every individual has back of him things of which they are justly proud and Mrs. Pennington is proud to know that she is a direct descendant of the principal characters of the Cherokees.
After the Ridges made this treaty and those who favored it moved west. Chief Ross and his band of 12,000 still refused to move and they met abuse and troubles indescribable and finally the United States Soldiers were sent to move Chief Ross and his people.

The Migration

After the soldiers appeared, they began to build stockades to house the Cherokees until they could get them moving. All over the Cherokee country they went, bringing in all of them, old and young, male and female and their babes, the sick, the lame and the halt. They hunted them down like hunting wild beasts and when they found them, they drove them under threats and blows like cattle to these stockades. These stockades were over crowded, disease broke out among them and many of them died with dysentery. Poor food and poor water, no doctors and no medicine.

In due time parties were started west, under the charge of soldiers. These parties were driven through like cattle. The sick and weak walked until they fell exhausted and then were loaded in wagons or left behind to die. When streams were to be crossed if not too deep all were compelled to wade. The water often times was to the chins of the men and women, and the little children were carried high over their heads. If the water was over their heads they would build rafts and cross on them.

Chief Ross and the Council begged the Government to let them take over the moving after a few parties had been moved by the soldiers and this was agreed upon. They began to establish camps and their health got better. It was only a short time until Chief Ross had worked out the details for the removal and he moved his people in groups through Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, and then into the Indian Territory. This journey was called the "Trail of Tears".

Unlike the moving by the army, arrangements were made whereby the old, sick and afflicted and the babies rode on the wagons hauling provisions and household goods. The others walked or rode horseback. These wagons hauling provisions were Government property.
Even with these arrangements many died on account of cold and hunger enroute and were buried in unmarked graves.
One of those who died on the Trail of Tears was Jim Ross Jr., the son of Jim Ross who was the son of Chief John Ross as aforementioned.
Jim Ross Jr. was buried in an unmarked grave somewhere near the present town of Aurora, Missouri.
Those who survived the hardships of the long trek, finally came to meet the Cherokees west. After they arrived here all that they possessed were a saw, an axe, a very little bedding and a big-eyed hoe and a small amount of corn, enough possibly to plant an acre of ground.

Having located in the Ozarks of the eastern part of the Indian Territory, many of them dug caves or dugouts in the hillsides in which to live until with their axe and saw, they built a little log cabin. They lived on wild fruits and berries. They made themselves bows and arrows to kill their game.

Some were a little more fortunate for they had a horse and with a deer tongue of wood and the big-eyed hoe they planted their corn in little clearings.

Chief John Ross and his family settled and builded their first home near the west bank of the Illinois. 

Vann, E. F.

March 20, 1938
D. T. Wilson
Journalist
An interview with Mr. E. F. Vann; Muskogee, Oklahoma

I am the son of Turnip and Martha Vann and I was born in the Flint District of the Cherokee Nation of the Indian Territory, June 20, 1870. The present location of my birthplace would be in Adair County near the present town of Stilwell. I am a full blood Cherokee Indian and am now the day jailer at the Muskogee County jail in Muskogee.

My father was born in North Carolina about 1825, and my mother's name was Martha Hood before her marriage and she was born in Georgia, September 14, 1835. My father is now dead and is buried some few miles south of Stilwell. My mother is also dead and is buried in McIntosh County, near Chocotah.
In 1890 I married a white woman of the name of Alice McTheney who was born in Crawford County, Arkansas, June 6, 1874.

My father and grandfather moved to Georgia before the removal of the Cherokees to the Indian Territory from North Carolina and my mother's parents lived in Georgia. There has been much told to me by my parents and grandparents as to the way in which the Cherokees were treated and were driven from their homes in Georgia, all of which history has recorded; however I feel that I should say my parents were of two different clans or factions. My mother's parents were favorable to the Treaty or the Ridge Party and on account of a treaty made with the United States Government, my mother's people were moved west by the Government, by steamboat and wagons and settled in Western Arkansas, north of the present town of Fort Smith, in 1835. Mother was but a baby two years old at this time. These Cherokees were called emigrants or the Western Cherokees.

My father's people would not abide by the treaty and were known as members of the Anti-treaty or Ross Party who refused to leave their homes back in Georgia, because the land was fertile and had many improvements and furthermore because their loved ones were buried there. In all, the members of the Ross or Anti-treaty party were satisfied and content in Georgia and did not care to take up new homes in a country of which they knew nothing. All the story of their sufferings in Georgia and across the Trail of Tears has already been written. My father while only thirteen years old came on the Trail of Tears with his parents and while on this trail, he lost one of his brothers. Father's people settled in the Flint District where I was born. It was in 1838 that this removal occurred and it was only a few years until my mother's people who had settled in Arkansas were again compelled to move into the confines of the Indian Territory. They settled in the Flint District where Father and Mother grew up and were married.


I have heard my grandparents and parents say, that after the troublesome times of enforced migration and settlement in their new lands in Indian Territory, there followed at last a period of peace and prosperity among the Cherokees. The younger Indians such as Father and Mother became reconciled to the change but my grandfather never did.

Walker, Henry J.

Interview with Henry J. Walker
Welch, Oklahoma, Star Route
James R. Carseloway, Field Worker
My name is Henry J. Walker, and I live at Welch, Oklahoma, Star Route. I live on the farm my father settled on, when the Kansas line was re-established, located on Big Cabin Creek.
My father's name was George Washington Walker. My mother's name was Mary Jane (Harlow) Walker.
My grandfather was Timothy Migs Walker, and my grandmother was Elizabeth Neely (Adair) Walker.
My father was born in Tennessee in 1823 and came to the Indian Territory when a boy 12 years old with his parents, brothers and sisters, along with the eastern emigrants, from Georgia about 1838.

Men and Boys Walked

My father told me that all the men and boys walked all the way from Georgia, and the women and children were allowed to ride in the ox wagons. It was a long hard journey and many took sick and died on the road. It took so long to make the trip, longer than the government had figured, that about all the money the Cherokees were given to live on after they arrived was used up on the way.

My father said each head of a family was given $100.00 in money to live on until they could get started up in their new homes, and that the soldiers in charge of the movement were given feed and food enough to carry them through. It ran out long before the journey's end was reached and the government officers had to borrow from the Indians to buy food and feed to continue the trip. By the time the Territory was reached about all the Indians money was used up, many of their families were reduced by death, and they were here without a thing to live on.

My father said the Government men in charge of the "Trail of Tears" promised to turn in their claims and pay back the money they borrowed from the Cherokees on the way over here, but they never did. I am told that the Cherokees now have in a claim against the government for this money with 5 per cent interest from 1838.
My grandfather, Timothy Walker, was a full blood Cherokee and settled with his family near Tahlequah in 1868, where he lived until his death several years later.

My father, George W. Walker, was almost a full blood Cherokee, and spoke languages fluently. 

Waterkiller, Ellis

Interview with Mr. Ellis Waterkiller

Mr. Waterkiller was born in the Cookson Hills of Eastern Oklahoma, near White Oak School, in Cherokee County, Oklahoma and now lives six miles east of Fort Gibson, Oklahoma, near the present Perkins School in Muskogee County, Oklahoma, on highway #62.

He is a full blood Cherokee Indian and 73 years old.

All of his known relatives were buried in the Cookson Hills of eastern Oklahoma, near the White Oak School. No markers mark their graves.
Father - Waterkiller - Born North Carolina (year unknown) Died 1870.
Mother - Nancy Parsons Waterkiller, born Cookson Hills 1873 and died 1890.
Grandfather - (First name unknown) last name, Parsons. Born North Carolina, (date unknown) Died 1840.
Grandmother - Sallie Parsons, born North Carolina (date unknown) Died 1885.

Migration

Don't know much about Father's people. Grandma (Parsons) tell me lot, like I tell you.
Grandpa and Grandma leave North Carolina, in old country, come Georgia, that old country too, stay there year. . . . 1837, soldiers drive um West. . . . Grandpa and Grandma no want come. Soldiers say go or kill you. Stick bayonet in you. They get things one night, skillet, pot, dishes, clothes, bedclothes too. . . . got dish grandma bring. I eat beans out em, I boy. It was an old piece of pottery, highly polished. Bowl was fashioned with handles, handles broken off, but designs on it were beautiful. See bowl, is over hundred years old. Next day soldiers drive um out. Easy first day. Make soldiers feel good. Every day worse. Just drive um like cattle. Grandma say she walk, grandpa walk too or soldiers run bayonets through um. They walk, wade creeks to chin, lots mud some places. Cross rivers in canoes. Soldiers save canoes, sometimes hollow logs, made um boats, go cross river. Yuh, soldiers have wagons. Feed um two times some days, sometimes feed um one time. Soldiers eat all time, take care horses better than my grandma-grandpa. Yuh-they bring skillet some things grandma had. Yuh - lots die, lots sick, lots die, two week walk, they die, bury em where they die, any place. Yuh - clothes bad, tore em, dirty too, clothes all gone when get here. Throw lot way on road, no good.

They get here, lots timber, land no good in hills, all right in valley Yuh - Grandma hate white man. Give all land, good land, in old country meaning North Carolina and Georgia. . . . white man say "Trail Tears", she say: "Trail Death". . . . grandpa die next year, mother born. (meaning his grandmother died one year after the birth of his mother.)

Life and Customs after Migration

Grandma say, her and grandpa come in hills. Soldiers say live, work, die.
Soldiers give em, ax, saw, big eye hoe, flint makin firs, corn, cotton, beans, mellon seed. Some soldiers give em nothin. (He had in his mind that some of the emigrants received nothing after their arrival, but was promised they would get theirs later). My folks lucky. Others never get nothin. .......

Watts, Elizabeth

April 27, 1937
Mrs. Elizabeth Watts
A Biographic Sketch
Route #2, Box 168, Muskogee, Oklahoma
By L. D. Wilson, Field Worker
Indian-Pioneer History

Source of Information received from a personal interview.

Mrs. Watt's maiden name was Elizabeth Miller. She was born in 1859, in the Canadian District of the Cherokee Nation and is a full-blood Cherokee Indian. Her first marriage was to a Mr. Whitewater, now deceased, and in 1894, she was married to Mr. Watts. Each marriage was consummated under the Cherokee Laws.

Her mother was Mrs. Nancy Tony - Miller and she was born on the East bank of the Mississippi River near Memphis, Tennessee, in 1837. Her grandparents were enroute from Georgia on the "Trail of Tears". They camped at the river several weeks waiting for the river to recede. Disease broke out among them and many died, but Nancy was born and she, at least replaced one of those who died.

Mrs. Miller died in 1876, and is buried in Goose-Neck Band neighborhood, east of Muskogee, Oklahoma.
Her father, Wilson Miller, was born in the Cherokee Nation. Was an orphan. He was reared by Uncle Joe Robertson, who was the father of Miss Alice Robertson, late Congress-woman from Oklahoma. His home was with the Robertson's at the old Tallahassee Mission, in the Creek Nation at the present town of Tallahassee, Oklahoma. He knew little of his parents, and likewise, Mrs. Watts knew nothing of her grand-parents on her father's side. He is buried three miles south of Broken Arrow, Oklahoma.
Grandparents on Mrs. Watts' mother's side were named Richard and Nellie Tony and they came to the Indian Territory in 1837, due to the removal of all Cherokees west of the Mississippi River.

The Removal as told to Mrs. Watts by her Grandparents

The Cherokees owned a large acreage in Georgia. After Jefferson was elected President by the United States, he had agents to come to the different Tribes to induce them to come west. Their inducement was much more land than they had there. They had lived there in Georgia for years and years. They had good land, that was left, for already the white people had encroached and taken much of their land. Naturally, most of them did not want to leave and go out into the wilderness and start life anew. To do so, was like spending a nickel these days for a grab bag, or like the saying, "Buying a cat in a sack". They did not willingly want to do this. Time passed. The War of 1812 came, and removal was delayed. A new President, Madison, was elected and he traded land in Arkansas, north of Fort Smith, for their land and agreed to move them and give them supplies, guns, clothing, ammunition, and utensils. A few of them agreed and came. The most of them still refused. This greatly separated the Cherokees. Those that came to Arkansas, had trouble there. The Government then moved them to what we call the Strip Country.
Those left in Georgia began building larger homes, put in larger crops, planted orchards, and advanced by leaps and bounds. It was during this period the Cherokees adopted the Sequoyah alphabet in Georgia. Sequoyah also came west to the ones in the Strip country and taught it there.

The white people used all means to get the Indians out of Georgia. Claimed they were barbarians, and they, the Cherokees, made new laws, just like the ones we had here in the Nation. John Ross was elected Chief of all the Tribes of Cherokees. Ross did all he could to get to stay there, but the Georgia white man passed laws and more laws, and law or no law, they destroyed the Indian's fences, and crops, and killed their cattle, burned their homes and made life a torment to them.

The Cherokees began to think of joining the West Cherokees. They simply could endure no longer. Like everything, it took a leader, and Major Ridge, his son, John Ridge, and two nephews, Elias Boudinot and Stan Natie became leaders. Of course, John Ross was the Chief and they all got to squabbling. Ross did not want to move his people, but by some hook or crook, Boudinot and Ridge signed a treaty to move, and claimed it was the will of the majority, but it was not, and the Government united a little while and sent Gen. Scott and two or three thousand soldiers. The soldiers gathered them up, all up, and put them in camps. They hunted them and run them down until they got all of them. Even before they were loaded in wagons, many of them got sick and died. They were all grief stricken. They lost all on earth they had. White men even robbed their dead's graves to get their jewelry and other little trinkets.

They saw to stay was impossible and the Cherokees told Gen. Scott they would go without further trouble and the long journey started. They did not all come at once. First one batch and then another. The sick, old, and babies rode on the grub and household wagons. The rest rode a horse, if they had one. Most of them walked. Many of them died along the way. They buried them where they died, in unmarked graves. It was a bitter dose and lingered in the mind of Mrs. Watts Grand-parents and parents until death took them. The road they traveled, History calls the "Trail of Tears". This trail was more than tears. It was death, sorrow, hunger, exposure, and humiliation to a civilized people as were the Cherokees. Today, our greatest politicians, lawyers, doctors, and many of worthy mention are Cherokees. Holding high places, in spite of all the humiliation brought on their forefathers.

Yes, they reached their Western friends and started all over again.

Lands promised, money promised, never materialized only with a paltry sum, too small to recall, for what they parted with and the treatment received

Whitmire, Eliza

February 14, 1938
Interview with Eliza Whitmire (Ex-slave woman), Estella, Oklahoma

Giving her experience on the removal of the Cherokees from Georgia and other experience of Pre-War Days.

My name is Eliza Whitmire. I live on a farm, near Estella. Where I settled shortly after the Civil War and where I have lived ever since. I was born in slavery in the state of Georgia, my parents having belonged to a Cherokee Indian of the name of George Sanders, who owned a large plantation in the old Cherokee Nation in Georgia. He also owned a large number of slaves but I was to young to remember how many he owned.
I do not know the exact date of my birth, although my mother told me I was about five years old when President Andrew Jackson ordered General Scott to proceed to the Cherokee country, in Georgia with two thousand troops and remove the Cherokees by force to the Indian Territory. This bunch of Indians were called the Eastern Emigrants. The Old Settler Cherokees had moved themselves in 1835 when the order was first given to the Cherokees to move out.

The Trail of Tears

The weeks that followed General Scott's order to remove the Cherokees were filled horror and suffering for the unfortunate Cherokees and their slaves. The women and children were driven from their homes, sometimes with blows and close on the heels of the retreating Indians came greedy whites to pillage the Indians' homes, drive off their cattle, horses and hogs, and they even rifled the graves for any jewelry, or other ornaments that might have been buried with the dead.

Divided into Detachments

The Cherokees, after being driven from their homes, were divided into detachments of nearly equal size and late in October 1838, the first detachment started, the others following one by one. The aged, sick and the young children rode in the wagons, which carried the provisions and bedding, while others went on foot. The trip was made in the dead of winter and many died from exposure from sleet and snow, and all who lived to make this trip, or had parents who made it, will long remember it as a bitter memory.

Woodall, Bettie

September 20, 1937
James R. Carselowey
Interviewer
An Interview with Bettie Perdue Woodall
Welch, Oklahoma

Old Indian Days

My name is Elizabeth Perdue Woodall, but I have always been called "Bettie". I was born near Westville, Indian Territory, December 6, 1851. My father's name was James Perdue, a half-breed Cherokee Indian. My mother, Dollie Thornton Perdue, was a white woman. Both were born in Georgia. They were married in 1838, and came immediately with the eastern emigrants over the Trail of Tears to their new home west of the Mississippi, settling in Going Snake District, in the new Cherokee Nation.

The Trail of Tears.

Some histories say that on the Trail of Tears all the women and children were allowed to ride; but my mother told me that not a single woman rode unless she was sick and not able to walk. My mother walked every step of the way over here.

The Government furnished green coffee in the grain for the Indians along the route. Many of them had never seen coffee and did not know how to make it. Some of them put the coffee in a pot with meat and were trying to cook it like beans when my mother came along and some Indian woman said, "Ask her, She white woman." My mother said she just had to laugh the way they were trying to cook that coffee. She took some of the green coffee, roasted it in a pan over their fire, put the parched grains in a cloth and pounded it up, and made them a pot of coffee. They all liked it and said she was a smart white woman.

She also showed them how to cook their rice. It seems they all thought everything had to be cooked with meat, but in this way the young white woman became very popular and much loved by her newly made friends.

My mother told me about many of the hardships and privations she and the rest of the women suffered while on their way from Georgia. Some of them were almost unbelievable, yet I know they are true, for my mother would have had no motive in telling it if it had not been so.

On one occasion she told of an officer in charge of one of the wagons, who killed a little baby because it cried all the time. It was only four days old and the mother was forced to walk and carry it, and because it cried all of the time and the young mother could not quiet it, the officer took it away from her and dashed its little head against a tree and killed it.

Samuel Cloud's a 9 year old on the Trail of Tears

The memories of Samuel Cloud who was nine years old at the time of the Cherokee removal; told by his great-great grandson.


The Trail of Tears

This is what I remember. It is the bits and pieces of the memories of a young boy, full of feelings and observations, but without complete comprehension. The boy is my  great-great-grandfather, Samuel Cloud. The memory is from his vantage point, so I will share it with you in the same way.
It is Spring. The leaves are on the trees. I am playing with my friends when white men in uniforms ride up to our home. My mother calls me. I can tell by her voice that something is wrong. Some of the men ride off. My mother tells me to gather my things, but the men don't allow us time to get anything. They enter our home and begin knocking over pottery and looking into everything. My mother and I are taken by several men to where their horses are and are held there at gun point. The men who rode off return with my father, Elijah. They have taken his rifle and he is walking toward us.

I can feel his anger and frustration. There is nothing he can do. From my mother I feel fear. I am filled with fear, too. What is going on? I was just playing, but now my family and my friends families are gathered together and told to walk at the point of a bayonet.

We walk a long ways. My mother does not let me get far from her. My father is walking by the other men, talking in low, angry tones. The soldiers look weary, as though they'd rather be anywhere else but here.

They lead us to a stockade. They herd us into this pen like we are cattle. No one was given time to gather any possessions. The nights are still cold in the mountains and we do not have enough blankets to go around. My mother holds me at night to keep me warm. That is the only time I feel safe. I feel her pull me to her tightly. I feel her warm breath in my hair. I feel her softness as I fall asleep at night. As the days pass, more and more of our people are herded into the stockade. I see other  members of my clan. We children try to play, but the elders around us are anxious and we do not know what to think. I often sit and watch the others around me. I observe the guards. I try not to think about my hunger. I am cold.

Several months have passed and still we are in the stockades. My father looks tired. He talks with the other men, but no one seems to know what to do or what is going to happen. We hear that white men have moved into our homes and are farming our fields. What will happen to us? We are to march west to join the Western Cherokees. I don't want to leave these mountains.

My mother, my aunts and uncles take me aside one day. "Your father died last night," they tell me. My mother and my father's clan members are crying, but I do not understand what this means. I saw him yesterday. He was sick, but still alive. It doesn't seem real. Nothing seems real. I don't know what any of this means. It seems like yesterday, I was playing with my friends.

It is now Fall. It seems like forever since I was clean. The stockade is nothing but mud. In the morning it is stiff with frost. By mid-afternoon, it is soft and we are all covered in it. The soldiers suddenly tell us we are to follow them. We are led out of the stockade. The guards all have guns and are watching us closely. We walk. My mother keeps me close to her. I am allowed to walk with my uncle or an aunt, occasionally.

We walk across the frozen earth. Nothing seems right anymore. The cold seeps through my clothes. I wish I had my blanket. I remember last winter I had a blanket, when I was warm. I don't feel like I'll ever be warm again. I remember my father's smile. It seems like so long ago.

We walked for many days. I don't know how long it has been since we left our home, but the mountains are behind us. Each day, we start walking a little later. They bury the dead in shallow graves, because the ground is frozen. As we walk past white towns, the whites come out to watch us pass. No words are spoken to them. No words are said to us. Still, I wish they would stop staring. I wish it were them walking in this misery and I were watching them. It is because of them that we are walking. I don't understand why, but I know that much. They made us leave our homes. They made us walk to this new place we are heading in the middle of winter. I do not like these people. Still, they stare at me as I walk past.

We come to a big river, bigger than I have ever seen before. It is flowing with ice. The soldiers are not happy. We set up camp and wait. We are all cold and the snow and ice seem to hound us, claiming our people one by one. North is the color of blue, defeat and trouble. From there a chill wind blows for us as we wait by a frozen river. We wait to die.

My mother is coughing now. She looks worn. Her hands and face are burning hot. My aunts and uncles try to take care of me, so she can get better. I don't want to leave her alone. I just want to sit with her. I want her to stroke my hair, like she used to do. My aunts try to get me to sleep by them, but at night, I creep to her side. She coughs and it wracks her whole body. When she feels me by her side, she opens her blanket and lets me in. I nestle against her feverish body. I can make it another day, I know, because she is here.

When I went to sleep last night, my mother was hot and coughing worse than usual. When I woke up, she was cold. I tried to wake her up, but she lay there. The soft warmth she once was, she is no more. I kept touching her, as hot tears stream down my face. She couldn't leave me. She wouldn't leave me.

I hear myself call her name, softly, then louder. She does not answer. My aunt and uncle come over to me to see what is wrong. My aunt looks at my mother. My uncle pulls me from her. My aunt begins to wail. I will never forget that wail. I did not understand when my father died. My mother's death I do not understand, but I suddenly know that I am alone. My clan will take care of me, but I will be forever denied her warmth, the soft fingers in my hair, her gentle breath as we slept. I am alone. I want to cry. I want to scream in rage. I can do nothing.

We bury her in a shallow grave by the road. I will never forget that lonesome hill of stone that is her final bed, as it fades from my sight. I tread softly by my uncle, my hand in his. I walk with my head turned, watching that small hill as it fades from my sight. The soldiers make us continue walking. My uncle talks to me, trying to comfort me. I walk in loneliness.

I know what it is to hate. I hate those white soldiers who took us from our home. I hate the soldiers who make us keep walking through the snow and ice toward this new home that none of us ever wanted. I hate the people who killed my father and mother.

I hate the white people who lined the roads in their woolen clothes that kept them warm, watching us pass. None of those white people are here to say they are sorry that I am alone. None of them care about me or my people. All they ever saw was the color of our skin. All I see is the color of theirs and I hate them. The forced removal of the Cherokee in 1838-39 from their homelands in the east to Indian Territory (now Oklahoma) is known as the "Trail of Tears" or "The Trail Where They Cried".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Of the 16,000 Cherokees who were herded into stockades and marched west by U.S. troops, about 4,000 died of disease, exposure, or fatigue.

A U.S. soldier, John Burnett, recalled in later years, "I saw the helpless Cherokees arrested and dragged from their homes, and driven by bayonet into stockades. And in the chill of a drizzling rain on an October morning I saw them loaded like cattle or sheep into six hundred and forty-five wagons and started toward the west"

The Trail of Tears - A Tremendously Moving Account Written by Private John G. Burnett

Letter Written by Private John G. Burnett Captain Abraham McClellan's Company 2nd Regiment, 2nd Brigade ~ Mounted Infantry Cherokee Indian Removal,1838-39. One can never forget the sadness and solemnity of that morning. Chief John Ross led in prayer and when the bugle sounded and the wagons started rolling many of the children rose to their feet and waved their little hands good-by to their mountain homes, knowing they were leaving them forever. Many of these helpless people did not have blankets and many of them had been driven from home barefooted. On the morning of November the 17th we encountered a terrific sleet and snow storm with freezing temperatures and from that day until we reached the end of the fateful journey on March the 26th, 1839, the sufferings of the Cherokees were awful. The trail of the exiles was a trail of death. They had to sleep in the wagons and on the ground without fire. And I have known as many as twenty-two of them to die in one night of pneumonia due to ill treatment, cold, and exposure. Among this number was the beautiful Christian wife of Chief John Ross. This noble hearted woman died a martyr to childhood, giving her only blanket for the protection of a sick child. She rode thinly clad through a blinding sleet and snow storm, developed pneumonia and died in the still hours of a bleak winter night, with her head resting on Lieutenant Greggs saddle blanket. I made the long journey to the west with the Cherokees and did all that a Private soldier could do to alleviate their sufferings. When on guard duty at night I have many times walked my beat in my blouse in order that some sick child might have the warmth of my overcoat. I was on guard duty the night Mrs. Ross died. When relieved at midnight I did not retire, but remained around the wagon out of sympathy for Chief Ross, and at daylight was detailed by Captain McClellan to assist in the burial like the other unfortunates who died on the way. Her unconfined body was buried in a shallow grave by the roadside far from her native home, and the sorrowing Cavalcade moved on. Being a young man, I mingled freely with the young women and girls. I have spent many pleasant hours with them when I was supposed to be under my blanket, and they have many times sung their mountain songs for me, this being all that they could do to repay my kindness. And with all my association with Indian girls from October 1829 to March 26th 1839, I did not meet one who was a moral prostitute. They are kind and tender hearted and many of them are beautiful.The only trouble that I had with anybody on the entire journey to the west was a brutal teamster by the name of Ben McDonal, who was using his whip on an old feeble Cherokee to hasten him into the wagon. The sight of that old and nearly blind creature quivering under the lashes of a bull whip was too much for me. I attempted to stop McDonal and it ended in a personal encounter. He lashed me across the face, the wire tip on his whip cutting a bad gash in my cheek. The little hatchet that I had carried in my hunting days was in my belt and McDonal was carried unconscious from the scene.I was placed under guard but Ensign Henry Bullock and Private Elkanah Millard had both witnessed the encounter. They gave Captain McClellan the facts and I was never brought to trial. Years later I met 2nd Lieutenant Riley and Ensign Bullock at Bristol at John Roberson's show, and Bullock jokingly reminded me that there was a case still pending against me before a court martial and wanted to know how much longer I was going to have the trial put off?McDonal finally recovered, and in the year 1851, was running a boat out of Memphis, Tennessee.The long painful journey to the west ended March 26th, 1839, with four-thousand silent graves reaching from the foothills of the Smoky Mountains to what is known as Indian territory in the West. And covetousness on the part of the white race was the cause of all that the Cherokees had to suffer. Ever since Ferdinand DeSoto made his journey through the Indian country in the year 1540, there had been a tradition of a rich gold mine somewhere in the Smoky Mountain Country, and I think the tradition was true. At a festival at Echota on Christmas night 1829, I danced and played with Indian girls who were wearing ornaments around their neck that looked like gold.In the year 1828, a little Indian boy living on Ward creek had sold a gold nugget to a white trader, and that nugget sealed the doom of the Cherokees. In a short time the country was overrun with armed brigands claiming to be government agents, who paid no attention to the rights of the Indians who were the legal possessors of the country. Crimes were committed that were a disgrace to civilization. Men were shot in cold blood, lands were confiscated. Homes were burned and the inhabitants driven out by the gold-hungry brigands.Chief Junaluska was personally acquainted with President Andrew Jackson. Junaluska had taken 500 of the flower of his Cherokee scouts and helped Jackson to win the battle of the Horse Shoe, leaving 33 of them dead on the field. And in that battle Junaluska had drove his tomahawk through the skull of a Creek warrior, when the Creek had Jackson at his mercy.Chief John Ross sent Junaluska as an envoy to plead with President Jackson for protection for his people, but Jackson's manner was cold and indifferent toward the rugged son of the forest who had saved his life. He met Junaluska, heard his plea but curtly said, "Sir, your audience is ended. There is nothing I can do for you." The doom of the Cherokee was sealed. Washington, D.C., had decreed that they must be driven West and their lands given to the white man, and in May 1838, an army of 4000 regulars, and 3000 volunteer soldiers under command of General Winfield Scott, marched into the Indian country and wrote the blackest chapter on the pages of American history.Men working in the fields were arrested and driven to the stockades. Women were dragged from their homes by soldiers whose language they could not understand. Children were often separated from their parents and driven into the stockades with the sky for a blanket and the earth for a pillow. And often the old and infirm were prodded with bayonets to hasten them to the stockades.In one home death had come during the night. A little sad-faced child had died and was lying on a bear skin couch and some women were preparing the little body for burial. All were arrested and driven out leaving the child in the cabin. I don't know who buried the body another home was a frail mother, apparently a widow and three small children, one just a baby. When told that she must go, the mother gathered the children at her feet, prayed a humble prayer in her native tongue, patted the old family dog on the head, told the faithful creature good-by, with a baby strapped on her back and leading a child with each hand started on her exile. But the task was too great for that frail mother. A stroke of heart failure relieved her sufferings. She sunk and died with her baby on her back, and her other two children clinging to her hands.Chief Junaluska who had saved President Jackson's life at the battle of Horse Shoe witnessed this scene, the tears gushing down his cheeks and lifting his cap he turned his face toward the heavens and said, "Oh my God, if I had known at the battle of the Horse Shoe what I know now, American history would have been differently written.At this time, 1890, we are too near the removal of the Cherokees for our young people to fully understand the enormity of the crime that was committed against a helpless race. Truth is, the facts are being concealed from the young people of today. School children of today do not know that we are living on lands that were taken from a helpless race at the bayonet point to satisfy the white man's greed.Future generations will read and condemn the act and I do hope posterity will remember that private soldiers like myself, and like the four Cherokees who were forced by General Scott to shoot an Indian Chief and his children, had to execute the orders of our superiors. We had no choice in the matter.Twenty-five years after the removal it was my privilege to meet a large company of the Cherokees in uniform of the Confederate Army under command of Colonel Thomas. They were encamped at Zollicoffer and I went to see them. Most of them were just boys at the time of the removal but they instantly recognized me as "the soldier that was good to us". Being able to talk to them in their native language I had an enjoyable day with them. From them I learned that Chief John Ross was still ruler in the nation in 1863. And I wonder if he is still living? He was a noble-hearted fellow and suffered a lot for his race.At one time, he was arrested and thrown into a dirty jail in an effort to break his spirit, but he remained true to his people and led them in prayer when they started on their exile. And his Christian wife sacrificed her life for a little girl who had pneumonia. The Anglo-Saxon race should build a towering monument to perpetuate her noble act in giving her only blanket for comfort of a sick child. Incidentally the child recovered, but Mrs. Ross is sleeping in a unmarked grave far from her native Smoky Mountain home. When Scott invaded the Indian country some of the Cherokees fled to caves and dens in the mountains and were never captured and they are there today. I have long intended going there and trying to find them but I have put off going from year to year and now I am too feeble to ride that far. The fleeing years have come and gone and old age has overtaken me. I can truthfully say that neither my rifle nor my knife were stained with Cherokee blood.I can truthfully say that I did my best for them when they certainly did need a friend. Twenty-five years after the removal I still lived in their memory as "the soldier that was good to us"However, murder is murder whether committed by the villain skulking in the dark or by uniformed men stepping to the strains of martial music. Murder is murder, and somebody must answer. Somebody must explain the streams of blood that flowed in the Indian country in the summer of 1838. Somebody must explain the 4000 silent graves that mark the trail of the Cherokees to their exile. I wish I could forget it all, but the picture of 645 wagons lumbering over the frozen ground with their cargo of suffering humanity still lingers in my memory.Let the historian of a future day tell the sad story with its sighs, its tears and dying groans. Let the great Judge of all the earth weigh our actions and reward us according to our work.Children,This is my birthday, December 11, 1890, I am eighty years old today. I was born at Kings Iron Works in Sulllivan County, Tennessee, December the 11th, 1810. I grew into manhood fishing in Beaver Creek and roaming through the forest hunting the deer and the wild boar and the timber wolf. Often spending weeks at a time in the solitary wilderness with no companions but my rifle, hunting knife, and a small hatchet that I carried in my belt in all of my wilderness wanderings.On these long hunting trips I met and became acquainted with many of the Cherokee Indians, hunting with them by day and sleeping around their camp fires by night. I learned to speak their language, and they taught me the arts of trailing and building traps and snares. On one of my long hunts in the fall of 1829, I found a young Cherokee who had been shot by a roving band of hunters and who had eluded his pursuers and concealed himself under a shelving rock. Weak from loss of blood, the poor creature was unable to walk and almost famished for water. I carried him to a spring, bathed and bandaged the bullet wound, and built a shelter out of bark peeled from a dead chestnut tree. I nursed and protected him feeding him on chestnuts and toasted deer meat. When he was able to travel I accompanied him to the home of his people and remained so long that I was given up for lost. By this time I had become an expert rifleman and fairly good archer and a good trapper and spent most of my time in the forest in quest of game.The removal of Cherokee Indians from their life long homes in the year of 1838 found me a young man in the prime of life and a Private soldier in the American Army. Being acquainted with many of the Indians and able to fluently speak their language, I was sent as interpreter into the Smoky Mountain Country in May, 1838, and witnessed the execution of the most brutal order in the History of American Warfare. I saw the helpless Cherokees arrested and dragged from their homes, and driven at the bayonet point into the stockades. And in the chill of a drizzling rain on an October morning I saw them loaded like cattle or sheep into six hundred and forty-five wagons and started toward the west. Children, thus ends my promised birthday story. This December the 11th 1890.

On The Trail of Tears with a Cousin (5 Generations Back) James Starr and His Family (My Starrs - Not Hal's)

B.B. Cannon and the James Starr Family Took the Most Northern Route with the Dotted Line

 Conductor:   B B Cannon

      Principal Cherokee: James Starr

       355 persons by land (15 died)

       Left 10/15/1837, arrived 12/29/1837

Asst Conductors:     Ezekiel S Curry

                                 Jackson Scott

                                 Thomas P Wells

     Physician:                 Grandville Townsend

     Interpreter:                Charles Reese

     Wagon Master:         Thomas Prigmore

     Disbursing Agt:         Mr. Reynolds

     Contractor:                L A Kincannon

B.B. Cannon's Journal

Cannon, B.B. - 1837 - Cherokee Removal

B. B. Cannon’s Journal of Occurrences with a Party of Cherokee Emigrants.  October 1837 

A Journal of occurrences in conformity with the Revised Regulations No 5. Paragraph 8. kept by B. B. Cannon, Conductor of a Party of Emigrating Cherokee Indians, put in his charge, at the Cherokee Agency East, by Genl. N. Smith, Superintendent of Cherokee removals, on the 13th day of October 1837.

Oct. 13th, 1837.

            Sent the wagons to the Indian encampment and commenced loading, in the evening.

Oct. 14th, 1837.

            Completed loading the wagons and crossed the Highwassee river at Calhoun, encamped, at 5 o’c. P.M.

Oct. 15th, 1837.

            Marched the Party at 8 o”c. A.M. halted and encamped at Spring Creek, at 11 o’c A.M. where Genl. Smith mustered the Party, which consumed the remainder of the day, 5 miles to day.

Oct. 16th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., halted and encamped at Kelly’s ferry on Tennessee river, at 4 o’c. P.M.  Issued corn & fodder, Corn meal & bacon, 14 miles to day.

Oct. 17th, 1837.

            Commenced ferrying the Tennessee river at 8 o’c. A.M., having been detained until the sun dispelled the fog, every thing being in readiness to commence at day light, completed ferrying at 4 o’c. P.M. and reached little [p. 2] Richland creek at 8 o’c. P.M.., where  the Party had been directed to halt and encamp, Issued corn & fodder, 7 miles to day.

Oct. 18th, 1837.

            Marched at 7 ½ o’c. A.M., one of the provision wagons oversat, detained a half hour, no damage done, ascended Wallens ridge, (the ascent 2 miles) halted at Ragsdale’s at 1 ½ o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, corn-meal & bacon, 10 miles further to water, all wearied getting up the mountain, 5 miles today.

Oct. 19th, 1837.

            Marched at 7 ½ o’c. A. M. descended the mountain, halted at 2 o’c. P.M., at Sequachee river near Mr. Springs, Issued corn & fodder, 11 ½ miles to day.

Oct. 20th, 1837.

            Marched at 6 ½ o’c. A.M., ascended the Cumberland mountain, halted at Mr. Flemings, ¾ past 3 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, corn meal & Bacon, 14 ½ miles to day.

Oct. 21st, 1837.

            Marched at 7 ½ o’c. A.M., descended the mountain, halted at Collins river, 4 1/r o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, the Indians appear fatigued this evening.  13 miles today—road extremely rough.

Oct. 22nd, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M. passed through McMinnville, halted at Mr. Britts ½ past 12 o’c. M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, corn meal & Bacon, Sugar [p. 3] and coffee to the waggoners & Interpreters, no water for 12 miles ahead, procured a quantity of corn meal and bacon to day.  ##  7 ½ miles to day.

Oct. 23rd, 1837.

            Marched at 6 ½ o’c. A.M., Capt. Prigmore badly hurt by a wagon horse attempting to run away, halted at Stone river near Woodbury, Te. ½ past 4 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, 20 miles to day.

Oct. 24th, 1837.

            Marched at 7 ½ o’c. A. M., halted at Mr. Yearwoods, 4 o’c. P.M., rained last night and to day, Issued corn & fodder, corn meal and bacon, 15 miles to day.

Oct. 25th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., buried Andrew’s child at ½ past 9 o’c. A.M., passed through Murfreesborough, halted at Overall’s creek, 4 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn and fodder, 14 miles to day.

Oct. 26th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., passed through three turnpike Gates, halted at Mr. Harris, 3 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, corn meal & bacon, 16 ½ miles to day.

Oct. 27th, 1837.

            Marched at 7 ½ o’c. A.M., passed through two Turn-

##  I would remark here that all supplies, both of forage and subsistence, were purchased, and Pikages, toll and ferriages contracted for on the way west by a contracting agent, and paid for on my request by Doct. Reynolds, the [continued at the bottom of page 4]

[p. 4] pike gates, and crossed the Cumberland river on the Nashville toll bridge, at Nashville, halted at Mr. Putnams ½ past 3 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, Isaac Walker and [sic] emigrant belonging to the Party, overtook us.  Mr. L. A. Kincannon, contracting agent, left us, and returned home, having, on the way, near McMinnville signified his intention, verbally, to do so, assigning as the reason the delicate situation of his health, 13 miles to day.

Oct. 28th, 1837.

            Rested for the purpose of washing clothes, repairing wagons, and shoeing horses.  Reese, Starr and others of the emigrants visited Genl. Jackson who was at Nashville, Issued corn & fodder, corn-meal and bacon, Assigned Mr. E. S. Curry to supply the place of Mr. Kincannon.

Oct. 29th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 ½ o’c. A.M., halted at Long creek ½ past 2 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, 13 ½ miles to day.

Oct. 30th, 1837.

            Marched at 7 ½ o’c A.M., halted at Little red river ½ past 5 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, corn-meal & Bacon, 18 ½ miles to day.

Oct. 31st, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., halted at Graves, Ken. 3 o’c. P.M., Issued corn & fodder, 16 miles to day.

Disbursing Agent for the Party.

[p. 5]

Nov. 1st, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c., A.M., buried Ducks child, passed throug [sic] Hopkinsville, Ken, halted at Mr. Northerns ½ past 5 o’c. P.M.  Encamped & issued corn & fodder, Flour and bacon, 19 miles to day.

Nov. 2nd, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M. and halted one mile in advance of Mr. Mitchersons, 3 o’o. P.M., encamped and issued corn and fodder.

Nov. 3rd, 1837.

            David Timpson and Pheasant, emigrants belonging to the party, came up last night in the stage, having been heretofore enrolled, and mustered, marched at 8 o’c. A.M., passed thro’ Princeton, Ken., halted and encamped near Mr. Barnetts, at ½ past 4 o’c. P.M.  Issued corn & fodder, Flour & bacon, 17 miles to day.

Nov. 4th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., halted and encamped at Threlkelds branch, 4 o’c, P.M., Issued corn & fodder, 15 miles to day.

Nov. 5th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., passed thro’ Salem, Ken., halted and encamped at another Mr. Threlkelds branch at 4 o’c. P.M., Issued corn & fodder, corn meal, a small quantity of flour, and bacon, 13 ½ miles to day.

Nov. 6th, 1837.

            Marched at 7 o’c. A.M., arrived at Berry’s ferry (Golconda opposite on the Ohio river) 9 o’c. A.M., every thing in readiness to commence ferrying, but [p. 6]

Prevented on account of the extreme high winds and consequent roughness of the river, which continued the remainder of the day, encamped in the evening, Issued corn & fodder, 5 ½ miles to day.

Nov. 7th, 1837.

Commenced ferrying at ½ past 5 o’c. A.M., moved the Party as it crossed one mile out and encamped.  Completed crossing 4 o’c. P.M., all safely, Issued corn & fodder, corn meal & bacon, 1 mile to day.

Nov. 8th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., Mr. Reese & myself remained behind, and buried a child of Seabolts, overtook the Party, halted and encamped at Big Bay creek, 4 o’c. P.M., Issued corn & fodder, (James Starr & wife, left this morning with two carry-alls to take care of, and bring on three of their children, who were too sick to travel—with instructions to overtake the Party as soon as possible without endangering the lives of their children.)—15 miles to day.

Nov. 9th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c., A.M., halted and encamped at Cash creek, ½ past 4 o’c. P.M., Issued corn & fodder, corn meal & Bacon, 15 miles to day.

Nov. 10th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., were detained 2 hours on the way making a bridge across a small creek, halted at Cypress creek, 4 o’c., P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, & salt, 14 miles to day. [p. 7]

Nov. 11th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c, A.M., passed thro’ Jonesboro’ Ill., halted and encamped at Clear creek, in the Mississippi river bottom, ½ past 3 o’c. P. M., Issued corn & fodder, corn meal & bacon—13 miles to day, issued sugar & coffee to the wagoners, & interpreters.

Nov. 12th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., arrived at Mississippi river, 10 o’c. A.M., Commenced ferrying, at 11 o’c. A. M., directed the party to move a short distance as they crossed the river, and encamp, Issued corn & fodder, Starr came up, the health of his children but little better, Richard Timberlake and George Ross, overtook us and enrolled, attached themselves to Starrs family.

Nov. 13th, 1837.

            Continued ferrying from 7 o’c. until 10 o’c. A.M., when the wind arose and checked our progress, 3 o’c. P.M., resumed and made our trip, suspended at 5 o’c. P.M., Issued corn & fodder, corn meal & bacon, buried another of Duck’s children to day.

Nov. 14th, 1837.

            Crossed the residue of the Party, Marched at 10 o’c. A. M., halted and encamped at Mr. William’s, Issued corn & fodder, sickness prevailing, 5 miles to day.

Nov. 15th, 1837.

            Rested for the purpose of washing &c., Issued corn and fodder, corn meal and bacon.

Nov. 16th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A. M., left Reese, Starr and fam- [p. 8] ilies on account of sickness in their families, also James Taylor (Reese’s son in law) and family, Taylor himself being very sick, with instructions to overtake the Party, passed thro’ Jackson, Mo., halted & encamped at widow Roberts on the road via Farmington &c., Issued corn only, no fodder to be had, 17 miles to day.

Nov. 17th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A. M., halted at White Water creek 4 o’c. P.M., Issued corn & fodder, corn meal and beef, 13 miles to day.

Nov. 18th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., halted and encamped at Mr. Morand’s 5 o’c. P.M., Issued corn & fodder, Flour & bacon, 16 miles to day.

Nov. 19th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., halted and encamped ½ past 4 o’c. P.M., at Wolf creek, Issued corn & fodder, 14 miles to day.

Nov. 20th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., passed thro’ Farmington, Mo., halted at St. Francis river, 4 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, Flour & beef, 15 miles to day.

Nov. 21st, 1837.

            A considerable number drunk last night obtained the liquor at Farmington yesterday, had to get out of bed about midnight to quell the disorder, a refusal by several to march this morning, alledging [sic] that they would wait for Starr & Reese to come up at that place, Marched at 8 o’c., A. M. in defiance of threats and attempts to intimidate, none remained behind, [p. 9] passed through Caledonia, halted at Mr. Jacksons, encamped and issued corn & fodder, beef and Bacon, mostly bacon, 14 miles to day.

Nov. 22nd 1837.

            Marched 8 ½ o’c. A.M., pass through the lead mines (or Courtois diggings), halted at Scotts, 4 o’c. P.M., issued corn, fodder, and corn meal, 13 miles to day.

Nov. 23rd, 1837.

            Rested for the purpose of repairing wagons, shoeing horses, washing &c., Starr, Reese, and Taylor came up, the health of their families in some degree improved, Issued corn & fodder, and beef, weather very cold.

Nov. 24th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 ½ o’c. A.M., Considerable sickness prevailing, halted at Huzza creek, 4 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, 12 miles to day.

Nov. 25th, 1837.

            Doct. Townsend, officially advised a suspension of our march, in consequence of the severe indisposition of several families, for a time sufficient for the employment of such remedial agents as their respective cases might require.  I accordingly directed the Party to remain in camp and make the best possible arrangement for the sick, In the evening issued corn & fodder, flour and beef.

Nov. 26th, 1837.

Remained in camp, sickness continuing and increasing, Issued corn & fodder, beef & corn meal. [p. 10]

Nov. 27th, 1837.

            Remained in camp, sickness continuing to increase, Issued corn & fodder, Bacon & corn meal.

Nov. 28th, 1837.

            Moved the Detachment two miles further to a Spring and School-house, obtained permission for as many of the sick to occupy the school-house as could do so, a much better situation for an encampment than on the creek, sickness increasing, Issued corn & fodder.

Nov. 29th, 1837.

            Remained in camp, sickness still increasing, buried Corn Tassels child to day, Issued corn & fodder.

Nov. 30th, 1837.

            Remained in camp, sickness continuing, Issued corn and fodder.

December 1st, 1837.

            Remained in camp, sickness abating, Issued cor and fodder, Bacon & corn meal, Buried Oolanheta’s child to day.

Decr. 2nd, 1837.

            Remained in camp, sickness abating, Issued corn & fodder, Beef & corn meal.

Decr. 3rd, 1837.

            Remained in camp, sickness abating, Issued corn & fodder.

Decr. 4th, 1837.

            Marched at 9 o’c. A.M., Buried George Killian, [p. 11] and left Mr. Wells to bury a waggoner, (black boy) who died this morning, scarcely room in the wagons for the sick, halted at Mr. Davis, 12 past 4 o.c. P.M., had to move down the creek a mile off the road, to get wood, Issued corn & fodder and corn meal, 11 miles to day.

Decr. 5th, 1837.

            Marched 9 o’c. A.M., left two waggoners (black boys) at Mr. Davis sick, this morning, halted at the Merrimack river, ½ past 3 o’c. P.M., Encamped and issued corn and fodder, corn meal and beef, 10 miles to day.

Decr. 6th, 1837.

            Marched at 9 o’c. A.M., passed Masseys Iron works, halted at Mr. Jones’ ½ past 3 o’c. P. M., encamped and issued corn and fodder, 12 miles to day.

Decr. 7th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 ½ o’c., A.M., Reese’s team ran away, broke his wagon and Starrs carry-all, left him and family to get his wagon mended, at 17 miles, and to overtake if possible, halted at Mr. Bates son, 5 o’c., P.M., encamped and issued corn and fodder, corn-meal & bacon, 20 miles to day.

Decr. 8th, 1837.

            Buried Nancy Bigbears Grand Child, marched at 9 o’c. A.M., halted at Piney a small river, ½ past 3 o’c. P.M., rained all day, encamped and issued corn only, no fodder to be had, several drunk, 11 miles to day. [p. 12]

December the 9th, 1837.

            Marched at 9 o’c. A.M., Mayfields wagon broke down at about a mile left him to get it mended and overtake, halted at Waynesville, Mo. 4 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, beef & corn meal, weather extremely cold, 12 ½ miles to day.

Decr. 10th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., halted at the Gasconade river 4 o’c. P.M., Issued corn & fodder.  14 miles to day.

Decr. 11th, 1837.

            Marched at ½ past 8 o’c. A. M., halted at Sumner’s 4 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder.  15 miles to day.

Decr. 12th, 1837.

            Marched at 9 o’c. A.M., halted one mile in advance of Mr. Parkes at a branch, 4 o’c. P. M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, corn meal, beef and a small quantity of bacon.  14 miles to day.

Decr. 13th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 ½ o’c. A. M., halted at a branch near Mr. Eddington’s, 4 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, Reese & Mayfield came up, 13 ½ miles today.

Decr. 14th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A. M., halted at James fork of White river, near the road but which [p. 13] does not cross the road, 3 o’c. P. M., Mr. Wells taken sick, Issued corn meal, corn & fodder, 15 ½ miles to day.

Decr. 15th, 1837.

            Joseph Starrs wife had a child last night.  Marched at 8 ½ o’c. A. M., halted at Mr. Danforths, 1 ½ P. M., waggoners having horses shod until late at night, encamped & issued corn & fodder & beef.  10 ½ miles to day.

Decr. 16th, 1837.

            Issued sugar & coffee to the waggoners & Interpreters this morning, Marched at 9 o’c. A. M., passed through Springfield Mo., halted at Mr. Clicks, 4 o’c. P. M., encamped and issued corn & fodder and corn-meal.  12 miles to day. (left Mr. Wells)

Decr. 17th, 1837.

            Snowed last night, Buried Eleges wife and Chas. Timberlakes son (Smoker), Marched at 9 o’c. A. M., halted at Mr. Dyes 3 o’c P.M., extremely cold weather, sickness prevailing to a considerable extent, all very much fatigued, encamped and issued corn & fodder, & beef.  10 miles to day.

Decr. 18th, 1837.

            Detained on account of sickness, Doct. Townsend sent back to Springfield for medicines, buried Dreadful Waters this evening, Issued corn and fodder & corn meal.   [p. 14]

Decr. 19th, 1837.

            Detained to day also on account of sickness, cold intense, Issued corn & fodder and beef.

Decr. 20th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 ½ o’c. A. M., halted at Mr. Allens ½ past 3 o’c. P. M., encamped, and issued corn & fodder & corn meal.  15 miles to day.

Decr. 21st, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A. M., halted at Lockes on Flat creek, 12 past 3 o’c. P. M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, & beef.  15 miles to day.

Decr. 22nd, 1837.

            Buried Goddards Grand child, Marched at 8 o’c. A. M., halted at McMurtrees, 3 o’c. P.M., encamped and issued corn & fodder and corn-meal.  15 miles to day.

Decr. 23rd, 1837.

            Buried Rainfrogs daughter (Lucy Redstick’s child).  Marched at 8 o’c. A. M. halted at Reddix, 3 o’c. P. M., encamped and issued corn & fodder & beef.  16 miles to day.

Decr. 24th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A. M., halted at the X hollows, had to leave the road ¾ of a mile to get water, 3 o’c. P. M., Issued corn & fodder, Pork and corn meal.  15 miles to day.

Decr. 25th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A. M., took the right hand [p. 15] road to Cane hill, at Fitzgeralds, halted a half mile in advance of Mr. Cunninghams at a branch, 3 o’c. P. M., Issued corn & fodder and salt Pork.  15 ½ miles to day.

Decr. 26th, 1837.

            Marched at 8 o’c. A.M., halted at James Coulters on Cane hill, Ark. ½ past 3 o’c P. M., encamped and issued corn meal, corn & fodder, 16 ½ miles to day.

Decr. 27th, 1837.

            Buried Alsey Timberlake, Daughter of Chas Timberlake, Marched at 8 o’c. A. M., halted at Mr. Beans, in the Cherokee nation west, at ½ past 2 o’c. P. M., encamped and issued corn & fodder, Fresh pork & some beef.  12 miles to day.

Decr. 28th, 1837.

            The Party refused to go further, but at the same time pledged themselves to remain together until the remuster was made by the proper officer, for whom I immediately sent an express to Fort Gibson, they alleged at the same time that the refusal was in consequence of the sickness now prevailing and that only.

            Doct. Reynolds Disbursing agent for the Party dismissed the wagons from further service, Buried another child of Chas Timberlakes, and one which was born (untimely) [p. 16] yesterday of which no other account than this is taken, Jesse Half Breeds wife had a child last night, issued Pork, corn meal and flour, corn & fodder for to day.

            Lieut. Van Horne arrived late this evening, having missed the express on the way.

Decr. 29th, 1837.

            Remustered the Party, Issued a small quantity of corn meal & Pork yet on hand.

Decr. 30th, 1837.

            Completed the Rolls of Remuster, turned over the Party to Lieut. Van Horne, and dismissed my assistants.

Respectfully submitted B. B. Cannon

Source: [National Archives Record Group 75, Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Letters Received, Cherokee Emigration, 1837, C-553, filed in Special Case 249]B Cannon is in Special Files, Bureau of Indian Affairs; no Muster     Roll.  This detachment was the first to travel the overland route through Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, and Missouri later used by most of the  other Removal wagon trains]

James Starr (1796 - 1845) My 1st Cousin Five Generations Back

Son of Caleb Starr from Starr Mountain, TN

James was born on Starr Mountain, the second oldest of 14 children. In his early 20's he married the Maugh sisters, Nellie and Sukie about 1 year apart. In 1843 he married Sally Acorn. Sukie had died in 1840. With the 3 wives he had 20 or 21 children.

The signing of the Treaty of New Echota on Dec. 29, 1835, as depicted at the New Echota Historic Site in Calhoun, Ga. The signers are shown signing the treaty in the parlor of former Cherokee Phoenix Editor Elias Boudinot.

The Treaty of New Echota was a treaty signed on December 29, 1835, in New Echota, Georgia by officials of the United States government and representatives of a minority Cherokee political faction, known as the Treaty Party.^[1] The treaty was amended and ratified by the US Senate in March 1836, despite protests from the Cherokee National Council and its lacking the signature of the Principal Chief John Ross.

The treaty established terms under which the entire Cherokee Nation was expected to cede its territory in the Southeast and move west to the Indian Territory. Although the treaty was not approved by the Cherokee National Council, it was ratified by the U.S. Senate and became the legal basis for the forcible removal known as the Trail of Tears.

From Cherokee Archives: The Murder of James Starr

The murder of James Starr November 9, 1845 added fuel to the fire that burst forth with the assassination of the Ridges and Elias Boudinot June 22, 1839. James Starr, like the previous ones killed, was a member of the treaty Party who signed the Treaty of New Echota December 29, 1835. There was a price on the head of each person who signed that document. He was among the first to be persuaded that emigration of the west was the best course. He came West along with the bulk of the Treaty Party. There were a number of murders between June 22, 1839 and the murder of James Starr, but none shook the Cherokee Nation as did the latter event. Vengeance was meted out to James Starr early Sunday Morning November 9, 1845 when a company if 32 men bedecked with war paint rode up to his home in the Flint district. James' wife saw the men approaching and went to warn her husband of the impending trouble. James told her to remain calm and permit the men to search the house. He went to the washstand on the front proch and washed his hands and face. He was drying his face when one of the men opened fire without warning, killing him instantly. Buck Starr, a crippled son, about 14 years of age, was standing nearby. His mother told him to run, but he could only hobble slowly, and he was shot, dying a month or so afterward. There were 3 small sons in the house, and it is said that an attempt was made to kill them, but Mrs Starr wrapped her shirt about two of them and the grandmother hugged the oldest one to her. The men left, realizing they could not kill the boys without killing the women, and they had no desire to harm women.

The raiders then went to Pollie Rider's home, Where Sewell Rider was shot. According to Hill and Starr in "Footprints in the Indian Territory" as Sewell lay wounded on the ground, an Indian named Stand jumped from his horse and stabbed the wounded man in his heart. As they left, they encountered another of James' sons, Washington, whom they shot, desperately wounding him before he could escape.

Tom Starr lived about 2 miles from his father, and Creek Starr, the oldest of the sons at home, ran and told Tom the news, which was to trigger a series of the most vengeful vendettas of all time.

It is reported that James Starr had 21 children, but only the younger ones dared to attend the funeral, as the older ones were afraid they would be murdered if they appeared. The Arkansas Intelligence reported that soon after the murder of James Starr plans were being made to kill all of his sons.

John Ross was accused of at least being the perpetrator of the slaying of the Starrs, The Ridges, Elias Boudinot and Rider, but no proof was ever produced of such. Some thought it was a radical element of the so called Ross Faction. It might be pointed out, however, the the retaliatory actions of the treaty party were featured to a greater extent in the "Cherokee Advocate" than similar acts by the Ross Followers.