Trail of Tears by John Ehle

Author:John Ehle [Ehle, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-79383-6
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2011-06-08T04:00:00+00:00

John Ross had moved from Ross’s Landing to a plantation only a mile from Major Ridge’s, to be near New Echota. He built a comfortable house on the Coosa River. His orchards were planted with all manner of fruit, and on his lawns were peacocks, symbols of his wealth and pride.

In Georgia a new song was making the rounds among the whites.

3All I ask in this creation

Is a pretty little wife and a big plantation

Way up yonder in the Cherokee Nation.

13

The printing press arrived in New Echota. Over the decades metal imports had created excitement—the gun, the pistol, the mill, the forge—each instrument had brought magic of its own, but none more than this black contraption brought to the Boudinots.

With this a writer, such as Boudinot, could make weekly reports to Philadelphia, Boston, Washington, London.…

Jeremiah Evarts of the American Board had seen to its selection and the casting of type. And here in New Echota in the new house made for it, a room twenty by thirty feet with doors at each end, the press was ensconced, was even now being cleaned of dust and polished to a shine by Harriet Boudinot.

Elias Boudinot, as editor, was paid three hundred dollars annually. A printer living in Tennessee had been hired, a Christian named John Foster Wheeler, and the council had agreed to pay him four hundred, which embarrassed Boudinot. Even so, paid more than the editor, the printer insisted that he must have an assistant.

Boudinot and Harriet had prepared an advertisement, which read, “To subscribers who can read English, the price of the paper is $2.50 annually, if paid in advance … to subscribers who can read only the Cherokee language, the price will be $2.00 in advance, or $2.50 if paid within the year.” Subscriptions were coming in. A number of newspapers had agreed to exchange copies, among them the Washington National Intelligencer, the New Hampshire Patent and State Gazette, the Boston Statesman, the New York Mirror, the Niles Weekly National Register, and the Journal of Georgia.

Once the thousand-pound press was in place and its furniture and type were ready, the moment arrived to run a test. Printer Wheeler was present. So was his white assistant, Isaac Harris, who entertained himself by muttering profanities. He tried setting a few words in the Cherokee type and dismissed that with a flurry of oaths, leaving the Cherokee work to Wheeler.

Where is the goddamned paper? Harris asked Boudinot.

The paper? The paper? Boudinot repeated.

The paper for printing on, Harris said.

There was none. It had been forgotten in the excitement of the press’s arrival.

Boudinot often traveled in search of contributions. He spoke in churches and to clubs, and was adept at raising money. One such speech was delivered to the First Presbyterian Church of Philadelphia in 1826:

1You behold an Indian; my kindred are Indians, and my fathers sleeping in the wilderness grave—they too were Indians. But I am not as my fathers were—broader means and nobler influences have fallen upon me. Yet I was not

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