Historical Thinking skills S ourcing C lose reading C ontextualization C orroboration

1. Historical Thinking skillsSourcingClose readingContextualizationCorroboration

5. Honoured Mother After my duty & my wifes presented to your Selfe these may inform you [page torn] present health of our present being when other of our friends are by the [page torn] barous heathen cut off from having a being in this World The Lord [page torn] late hath renewed his witnesses against us & hath dealt very bitterly with us in that we are deprived of the Societie of our nearest friends by the break in in the morning ing ^ of the advesarie against us. On Friday last ^ your own Son with your two Sons in Law Anthony & Thomas Bracket & their whole families were killed & taken by the Indians, we know not how, tis certainly known by us that Thomas is slain & his wife & children carried away captive, of and ^ Anthony & his familie we have no tidings & therfore think that they might be captivated the night before because of the remoteness of their ha bitation from neighbourhood, Gm Corban & all his family Gm Lewis & his wife, James Ross & all his family, Gm Durham, John Munjoy & Dan Hadwell ielWakelyBejamin ^ Martin & all his family are lost, all slain by Sun an hour high in the Morning & after, Gm Wallis his dwelling are house & none besides his is burnt. we there ^ of men slain 11, of women & children 23 killed & taken, we that are alive are forced upon Mr Andrew’s his Island to secure our own & the lives of our families we have but little provision & are so few in number that we are not able to bury the dead till more strength come to us, the desire of the people to your Self is that you would be pleased to speak to Mr Munjoy & Deacon Philips that they would entreat the Governour that forthwith aid might be sent to us either to fight the enemie out of our borders that our english corn may be inned in wherby we may comfortably live or remove us out of danger that we may provide for our Selves elsewhere having no more at present but desiring your prayer to God for his preservation of us in these times of danger, I rest. Your dutifull Son Thaddeus Clark.

22. Frontier Planters Petition Governor Berkeley to Commission Volunteers Against the Indians spring 1676 The humble petition of the poore distressed subjects in the upper parts of James River in verginia humbly Complain that the Indians hath already most barbarously and Inhumanly taken and murdered severall of our bretheren and put them to most cruell torture by burning of them alive and by cruell torturing of them which makes our harts Ready to bleed to heare and wee the poore subjects are in dayly dandger of loosing our lives by the heathen in soe much that we are all afraid of going about our demesticall affaires. Wherefore we Most Humbly request that your gracious Honor would be pleased to grant us a Committion and to make choice of Commitioned Officers to lead this party now redy to takes armes in defence of our lives and estates…

23. The humble petition of the poore distressed subjects in the upper parts of James River in verginia humbly Complain that the Indians hath already most barbarously and Inhumanly taken and murdered severall of our bretheren and put them to most cruell torture by burning of them alive and by cruell torturing of them which makes our harts Ready to bleed to heare

24. The humble petition of the poore distressed subjects in the upper parts of James River in verginia humbly Complain that the Indians hath already most barbarously and Inhumanly taken and murdered severall of our bretheren and put them to most cruell torture by burning of them alive and by cruell torturing of them which makes our harts Ready to bleed to heare “The poor residents of the upper parts of the James River in Virginia are submitting this petition. The Indians have been murdering our neighbors and torturing others by burning them alive.”

25. and wee the poore subjects are in dayly dandger of loosing our lives by the heathen in soe much that we are all afraid of going about our demesticall affaires. Wherefore we Most Humbly request that your gracious Honor would be pleased to grant us a Committion and to make choice of Commitioned Officers to lead this party now redy to takes armes in defence of our lives and estates…

26. and wee the poore subjects are in dayly dandger of loosing our lives by the heathen in soe much that we are all afraid of going about our demesticall affaires. Wherefore we Most Humbly request that your gracious Honor would be pleased to grant us a Committion and to make choice of Commitioned Officers to lead this party now redy to takes armes in defence of our lives and estates… “We are in daily danger of losing our lives to the Indians. Governor, please commission officers to fight the Indians so that we can protect our lives and our land.”

34. Historical Thinking skillsSourcingClose readingContextualizationCorroboration

35. Fort Sumner, New Mexico, February 26th, 1864. My dear Wife: It is now so long since I have heard from you, that I begin to think that you have quit writing. It is equally a long time since I have written to you, but I have travelled many a weary mile and passed many a cold, cheerless night, since I wrote you last. I wrote to you last from Military post of Los Pinos, New Mexico,-- well, on the 7th of the present month I left that post, with 44 men of my company, having in charge 243 Navajo Indians, 81 of whom were men, the balance were women and children; the Indians comprised all ages, from the old man or woman of a hundred years, to the sucking babe; some of them were taken prisoners during the late expedition of Col. Kit Carson, against that nation; their fathers or brothers having been killed in battle; others of them came into the Forts Wingate and Canby and gave themselves up as prisoners. I had 16 wagons each drawn by 8 mules, which required about 35 Mexican teamsters; so you see that with soldiers, Indians, Mexicans, etc., etc., I had quite a command, but it required a constant vigilance on my part to prevent them from rising, if they wished so to do--and murdering us; also to prevent them from escaping. I was ordered to bring them to this post, (Fort Sumner); it is situated on the Rio Pecos, and is about due east from Fort Craig, -- you will find it readily on a large map.

36. As I said before, I left Los Pinos, which is a beautiful place, with my "outfit" and arrived here on the 22nd, being on the road 15 days, long weary days, most of time in the mountains, three ranges of which I crossed over--the total distance in that time was 242 miles. While in the mountains we experienced very cold weather and some of the time having no water, but what we obtained by melting snow, and part of the time, we had no wood either to keep us warm, or melt our snow,-- everything must have an end; so we finally arrived here safely. I had fed the last of the Indian provisions the day before, and my company were quite out of provisions. Four of the Indians died and were buried on the road, so I got here with 239 of the Red Skins, they causing me very little trouble other than feeding such a large number every day,

37. My dear wife, this is a terrible place; it is intended to make it the final home of all the Indians in this country; there are about fifteen hundred here now,-- Navajos and Apaches, and as many more are expected here during the next three months; there are five small companies, including mine, of soldiers here, and it requires our constant attention to took out for them, As fast as any Indians are taken in any part of the country, they are sent here. The Rio Pecos is a little stream winding through an immense plain, and the water is terrible, and it is all that can be had within 50 miles; it is full of alkali and operates on a person like castor oil,-- take the water, heat it a little, and the more you wash yourself with common soap, the dirtier you will get. We are one and all looking very anxiously for the 16th of August, when we will be allowed to go to our homes. Captain Cremony is here with his company; he is in very good health. The mail came in today, but brought no letters from you. I will write to you by the next mail. Give my respects to all. My warmest love to yourself and babies, and believe me to be ever Your loving husband, George. Direct your letters to Lieut. Geo. H, Pettis, Company "K", 1st California Infantry, Fort Sumner

38. "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. The removal of Cherokee Indians from their lifelong 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. 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.

39. In 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.

40. 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 - Thus ends my promised birthday story. This December the 11th 1890."