To Tame A Rebel
Page 31
She smiled up at him through her tears. “It is good, Wohali. Your mother and I have held the ranch together, awaiting your return.”
He held her close, and there was no need for words. She loved him like she could never love another.
“Kawoni, I don’t know what the future will bring now that the Confederate Indians have been defeated.”
“It doesn’t matter; we’ve got each other; we’ll manage somehow.”
The baby began to wail from his cradle, and Jim looked toward the house and then down at her, his eyes full of surprise and questions.
Behind him, the old woman laughed. “We go in to supper. You will want to meet your son.”
“My son?” Jim looked toward the house again, then back into Kawoni’s eyes.
“Your son,” she nodded, her heart too full to speak. “I knew when I rode out that night, but never got a chance to tell you.”
“My son,” he whispered. “Oh, Kawoni, until a few moments ago, I thought I was just a defeated soldier with nothing to my name, and now I have everything.”
“We are a very, very rich Cherokee family.” Kawoni smiled up at him, and then the three of them walked toward the cabin, where little Jim wailed lustily.
Tonight, she thought as Jim picked up his chubby son and kissed him, tonight, we have much to make up for, and a long night of passion awaits us. “I love you,” she whispered.
Still holding the baby, he put his arm around her and hugged her to him, kissing her again and again. “And I love you, my Cherokee woman, more than you’ll ever know!”
TO MY READERS
The general public is unaware that Indian Territory became a bloody battleground as the Union forces in Kansas and the Confederates in Texas met in the middle to fight over it. The Civil War did indeed pit brother against brother, friend against friend, and split tribes down the middle. While the Choctaws and Chickasaws mostly went for the Southern cause, the other three of the Civilized Tribes split more evenly. When it was over, farms were destroyed, villages burned, and 14 percent of the Indian children in the area were orphans, and 33 percent of the women widows.
In the end, none of it mattered. Greedy whites waited on the sidelines, looking for any excuse to steal the Indian lands—and they found one. Their excuse was that since many from the Five Civilized Tribes had fought for the South, they deserved to be punished by having their land confiscated.
It is a true but little-known story of the Civil War that Old Opothleyahola, the elderly Creek leader, led his people valiantly as they battled their way through three hundred miles of winter snow and Confederate troops to reach Union Kansas. We do not know much about him or even have a good translation of the meaning of his name. Unfortunately, he did not live until the end of the war. He died an exile in Kansas and is buried near the town of Belmont. He holds a place of honor in the Indian Hall of Fame in Anadarko, Oklahoma, but otherwise, he has been pretty much overlooked and forgotten.
When the many fleeing Union Indians finally reached Kansas, sadly, they were not much better off than they had been under Confederate rule. The Union forces were not expecting almost six thousand Indians to arrive, could not deal with their numbers, and surely did not want them. Many of these unfortunate Indians starved or froze to death in the miserable temporary camps, among them the valiant old Creek leader. In all, the Creek had lost almost two thousand of their people dead along the way as they fought their way north. It is surely one of the most poignant, untold stories of the Civil War.
If the subject interests you, I’ll suggest two books that you might find at your public library: Now the Wolf Has Come: The Creek Nation in the Civil War, by Christine Schultz White and Benton R. White, Texas A&M University Press, College Station, TX, 1996; also Opothleyaholo and the Loyal Muskogee: Their Flight to Kansas in the Civil War, by Lela J. McBride, McFarland & Co., 2000.
For further information on the Creeks, you might enjoy a book by Oklahoma’s own beloved historian, Angie Debo. The book is The Road to Disappearance: A History of the Creek Indians, U of Oklahoma Press, Norman, OK, 1941.
The Creek had fought on the side of the British in the War of 1812, and the Cherokee fought on the side of the United States. The bloody battle of Horseshoe Bend, led by future President Andrew Jackson, defeated the Creek. In the long run, our government treated loyal Indians no better than they did the others.
The sinking of the J. R. Williams, and the Confederate capture of the big Union wagon train, known as the Second Battle of Cabin Creek, were the two greatest Confederate victories in the Indian Territory.
Some of you may be astounded to hear of the black Indians. Yes, they do still exist and have voting rights as members of at least two of the Five Civilized Tribes. I’ve already told you about the famed Seminole Negro scouts who rode with the U.S. Cavalry after the Civil War, in an earlier book, Bandit’s Embrace. There are other tribes besides those in Oklahoma that have mixed-blood members. For more information, I suggest The Black Indians: A Hidden Heritage, by William Loren Katz, published by Aladdin Paperbacks (Simon & Schuster), 1986.
There are numerous books on the Cherokee. Among them are Cherokee Tragedy: The Ridge Family and the Decimation of a People, by Thurman Wilkins, U of Oklahoma Press, 1970; and The Cherokees, by Grace S. Woodward, U of Oklahoma Press, 1963.
Yes, Stand Watie, a Cherokee, was the only Indian general of the Civil War and the very last Confederate general to surrender. He died in 1871 and is buried in Polson Cemetery, about fourteen miles northeast of Jay, Oklahoma, in Delaware County.
Ironically, on the Union side, a Seneca Indian, Colonel Ely S. Parker, wrote the surrender document and was present as one of General Grant’s aides as Lee signed it.
I included the young Cherokee scout Clem Rogers in this story for a reason. Clem was an actual person who survived the Civil War and became a prominent rancher. Rogers County, in northeast Oklahoma, is named for him. However, here in my home state, Clem is best known as the father of Oklahoma’s most beloved son the entertainer, Will Rogers, who was killed in a 1935 plane crash.
The McIntoshes, the half-breeds who had signed away the Creek lands in Alabama, became even more prominent after the Civil War. McIntosh County, in southeast Oklahoma, is named for this family. There are also a Cherokee County and a Creek County. The town of Doaksville, where Stand Watie surrendered, no longer exists. The town of Bowlegs is named for the Seminole chief, and of course, the Creeks’ Tulsey Town survived to become the city of Tulsa. The Western Cherokee capitol is Tahlequah, where there’s a good museum, and a pageant every summer reenacting the Trail of Tears. The Creek capitol and museum is in Okmulgee, if you’d like to visit.
The Creek warriors in the early years carried red-painted war clubs and were called the Red Sticks. In French, the words are Baton Rouge. So now you know how the capital city of Louisiana got its name.
For general information on American Indians fighting in the Civil War, I recommend General Stand Watie’s Confederate Indians, by Frank Cunningham, U of Oklahoma Press, Norman, OK, 1998; The American Indian in the Civil War, 1862–1865, by Annie Heloise Abel, U of Nebraska Press, 1992; Between Two Fires: American Indians in the Civil War, by Laurence M. Hauptman, The Free Press (Simon & Schuster), 1995; and The American Indian and the End of the Confederacy, 1863–1866, by Annie Heloise Abel, U of Nebraska Press, 1993.
For those who scoff at the possibility of a woman fighting in the Civil War disguised as a soldier, historians have documented at least one hundred women who did just that. It is estimated that as many as five hundred to a thousand women may have joined the two armies. A book on the subject is All the Daring of the Soldier: Women of the Civil War Armies, by Elizabeth D. Leonard, W. W. Norton, 1999.
All my stories connect in some way in a long, long saga that covers some fifty years of our country’s Western history. Both Yellow Jacket and Jim Eagle had been members of the Lighthorsemen, the law enforcement arm of their tribes. They are both friends of another Lighthorseman, Talako of the Choctaw tribe,
the hero of my earlier book, Warrior’s Honor. Many of these stories are written out of sequence. The clue to following the saga is the date each story begins, which is always in the first several pages of each book. Some of my earlier books are still available from Zebra’s mail order or your local bookstore.
I am always glad to hear from readers. For an autographed bookmark explaining how all the stories fit together, and a personal reply, please send a stamped, self-addressed #10 envelope to: Georgina Gentry, PO Box 162, Edmond, OK 73083-0162, or check my Web site at: www.nettrends.com/georginagentry.
So what story will I tell next? I received an enormous amount of mail from readers who loved my last book, To Tame a Texan. They all wanted me to continue writing more humorous stories about Texans and the Durango family, and I’m pleased to do so.
Lacey Van Schuyler Durango has been reared by her aunt and uncle, Cimarron and Trace Durango, down in the Texas Hill Country around Austin and San Antonio. Prim, uptight Lacey is an ambitious Texas newspaper woman who has no time and no use for men. She’s also the national president of the Ladies’ Temperance Association. Lacey’s riding a train to the Oklahoma Land Rush with plans to stake a claim and start her own newspaper. She and her L.T.A. ladies intend to mount a crusade to keep this new town dry, figuring if there’s no saloons, their ideal city won’t attract disreputable rogues.
Speaking of disreputable rogues, enter Blackie O’Neal. Blackie is a charming Texas rascal who could talk a dog off a meat wagon. This handsome scoundrel has been run out of half the towns in the Lone Star State. Think Rhett Butler, only more so. On a fine chestnut stallion, Blackie is galloping into this new town with plans to build the world’s fanciest saloon and bordello, Blackie’s Black Garter. He’s got his eye on a choice piece of real estate right downtown. Unfortunately, it’s the same land that our Texas temperance leader, Lacey, wants for her newspaper office. Uh-oh.
If you like feisty heroines and sexy heroes caught in humorous conflicts, come along for the adventure as this staid liquor-hating lady and the whiskey-peddling rascal clash. And maybe, just maybe, there might be a Texas-size romance in this story I call To Tempt a Texan.
Adios till next time,
Georgina Gentry
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Copyright © 2004 by Lynne Murphy
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