Mary and the Trail of Tears

—–Internment Camp, Near Vann’s Plantation October 20, 1838

Almost five months after we had been forced from our home, my family loaded what we had into a wagon to walk to Chattanooga, Tennessee. We would camp there until it was time to depart for Ross’s Landing, our first major water crossing. After Ross’s Landing, there would still be a good distance to travel before we reached our new home.

It felt like the journey would never end.

Our group would be lead by Richard Taylor. Mr. Taylor was a Cherokee warrior and leader. He had been to Washington many times to plead our case. When it looked like we would have to leave Georgia, he had sent his own family west but stayed behind to help the rest of our tribe. He was going to lead nearly a thousand of us to our new home.

For every fifteen people, one ox-drawn cart was assigned. Only those who were unable to walk because of sickness or age could sit in a wagon. That morning, the camp was in chaos. Not wanting to waste time, some people had already started walking after packing their belongings in a wagon.

Charlotte, Steven, and Jenny had packed up and gone on ahead.

Nelly wasn’t much help and was moving slowly. She looked as if her whole body hurt.

“What’s wrong, Nelly?” I asked.

Nelly gritted her teeth. “I think I’m sick,” she said, then she doubled over and fell to the ground.

Mama was quickly at Nelly’s side.

“You girls stay here,” she ordered me and Becky.

She and Raven helped Nelly stand up and began to guide her back toward the camp.

Margaret followed right behind them.

Some of the wagons began to move.

“Mama!” Becky wept. “We have to go get Mama,” she said, trying to pull away from me. I threw my arms around her and held her with all my might.

“Mama told us to stay here,” I cried.

Becky was starting to wail. I was having trouble holding on to her skinny arms.

Suddenly Margaret walked up and wrapped Becky in a hug.

“We start the walk to our new home today.”

“Where is Mama?” Becky asked.

“She’s with Nelly,” Margaret said.

“Where’s Nelly?” Becky demanded.

Margaret sighed. “Nelly’s going to have her baby today.”

Becky’s mouth dropped open.

“Mama doesn’t want the rest of us to stay here any longer,’ Margaret said. “She, Nelly, Raven, and their baby are going to come in a day or two.”

Becky cried. Margaret lifted her into the wagon. The man who was going to drive our wagon walked up and asked if it was ready to go. Margaret begged him to wait another few minutes. Margaret reached into our burden basket and pulled out a small blue and white blanket.

She leaned down and handed it to me. Margaret whispered to me, “Mama is afraid of all the sickness here. She doesn’t want us here any longer.”

Death seemed to be happening daily. Every day the camp grew filthier. The rains and cold had made it worse.

Margaret stood up and reached into the basket again. This time she pulled out a larger woven blanket with similar blue stripes and colors. She handed this blanket to me too.

“Take this to the infirmary. Hurry now,” she said. “Nelly will need these.”

I ran to the makeshift hospital tent. I found Mama and Nelly standing outside. Mama rubbed Nelly’s back and leaned over, whispering to her.

I ran up to my sister. “Nelly, Margaret told me to bring you this.”

Nelly smiled. Her face was flushed and sweaty. Her lips tightened for a moment, then she took the white and blue striped cloth from me.

“Wado, Mary.” She thanked me with a light hug.

Mama turned to me, “Watch over your little sister,” she said. “She’s never been away from me.”

I wanted to point out that I had never been away from Mama either. I stopped, though.

Instead, I said, “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too. Always stay together, the three of you. Now go on.”

I turned away from Mama before my tears began. I wanted to be done with crying. I didn’t want Becky to see my tears. The night before, I couldn’t wait to leave this camp of sickness and death. Now I wept to leave Nelly, Raven, and Mama behind.

—-Camp in Chattanooga, Tennessee November 1, 1838

It had been eleven days since we had seen Mama, Nelly, and Raven.

Our wagons were going to be taken across the Tennessee River by ferry. Other flat-bottom boats were taking people across the water.

That made me nervous. In the camp, I had heard stories that many Indians, both Cherokee and Creek, had died when forced onto overcrowded boats. The passage between the shores was at least four miles. The boats would spend the day going back and forth, transporting wagons and people across the river. Our detachment would end up being spread out over miles.

Each time we got closer to the front of the line of people waiting to get on a boat, Margaret would stop us and let others go ahead. I noticed she kept looking toward the back of the line. Finally, I realized Margaret was hoping Mama would catch up with us.

“I’ll go back and see if they’re there,” I whispered.

“No!” Margaret reached out to grab me, but I was already running. I followed the line of people as it snaked across the road. A flash of white and blue in a woman’s arms caught my eye. Nelly was standing next to a wagon. Next to her were Mama and Raven.

“Mama!” I cried, waving. I turned to go get my sisters. I hadn’t known how important it was for my family to be together until we had been torn apart.

Margaret was angry with me for running off but forgot about it the minute she saw Nelly’s new baby. He was eleven days old. She called him Tsali. He was tiny, but strong. His black hair was thick and dark. The thick fluff matched his dark eyes. I wondered how soon babies could smile. I, for one, finally had something to smile about.