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| Indian Girl's Journal Reveals All
About Christopher Seider by Abby H.
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February 22, 1770
As I write on this frosty, snowy evening near the outskirts of
Boston, I stop to reflect on all the events that happened this past
day. Our Wampanoag Tribe leader Chief Long Horn, my father Red Hawk,
and myself along with a few other bystanders all went into the town of
Boston to undertake some trading. The reason I went was because I could
translate the English that the colonists used, to our Algonquin
language. That way, our tribe could communicate with the colonists in
Boston. We traded corn, fish, wild berries, venison, and clams for
their tea and tobacco. It was a long walk to Boston from where my tribe
lives. We live in Southern Massachusetts in Martha’s Vineyard. Martha’s
Vineyard is close to a river that we partially canoe up on our trip. We
have to be very careful due to the fact that our enemy tribe, the
Narragansetts, could be hiding in a nearby bush ready to strike. So as
not to have that happen we always have two - three men on guard with
weapons at hand. It’s about a four day walk to Boston from Martha’s
Vineyard. We had only three ponies in which to carry some of our goods.
Once we arrived in Boston on February 20th we quickly set up camp on
the outskirts of Boston away from the colonists. We have stayed in our
tents since.
There was a slight drizzle of snow falling from the sky. There were
sounds of fighting half a mile away. Having the curiosity that I did
earlier that day... I decided to explore the sounds of the fighting and
see what action was taking place. I was hoping that it is nothing
serious. Red Hawk, my father told me that if I was to go and explore
the surrounding area that I had to take with me my longbow for
protection. My father has never fully been able to trust the English
colonists again. So after I finished my meal of corn; squash, beans,
and venison I took my longbow and ventured off to the city. I
walked past a Tavern called Smithy Jones and I could see through the
window all the barrels of ale. I have never taken a real liking to ale.
I could also smell some potato soup being served. Yummy. As I walked
further I saw a mob of people gathering up a few blocks away.
They did not looked like a happy mob either.
I walked toward the mob to find everyone standing outside the house of
a white man. I wondered what all the commotion was about? I didn’t dare
go close because I was afraid that I may get harmed or injured if
I got too close. As I looked around, the streets seemed to be clear of
people except for the mob. I got a little closer to the mob and saw
that there were a few children in the crowd. I had hoped that none of
them would get harmed. Then all of a sudden there were two gun shots. A
boy fell dead in the crowd. I just about burst into tears. People in
the crowd fell dead silent. No one moved. Before I left I saw the white
man getting dragged away by the angry mob. The child was also being
carried away. I ran back to my tent and went straight to bed, with many
tears filling my eyes.
I awoke later that night to find that I couldn’t sleep. As I am sitting
in my tent while I write this, I pause for a moment and think about my
mother Dog Star and my two younger brothers, Tankahoe ( tank - a - hoe
) who is thirteen and Table ( tee - blow ) who is ten. The reason I
think of them is because I miss them so much. Though I haven’t see them
for a little less then a week, I know that it will be a long time
before I do see them again. I wonder if they are warm enough in our
Wetu on the bank of the river? I hope that no danger has be struck them
in any way! My little brother would probably be able to fend off a bear
cub or bobcat but certainly not a unfriendly native tribe such as the
Narragansetts. I can picture mother now sitting in her short leather
skirt and fur coat most likely lined with rabbit fur. She is likely
mending fathers buckskin breechcloth. Her moccasins go all the way up
to her knees and her hair beautifully, tightly braided. I wonder if she
still has the conch shell that I gave her tied around her neck? Before
I left my tribe mother gave me 7 shillings, 6 pence to spend on myself
while I was in Boston. While it is not a custom for my tribe to use
colonial money... my mother had saved some money from the last time she
was in Boston. I have not decided what to buy let. Any ways I have
faith that she along with my brothers will be fine, and out of harms
way.
Dream Wolf
February 26, 1770
I am outside beside a tree watching the bright crescent sun fall behind
the land of the new fallen snow. I still hold light tears in my eyes
from the night before and today's event.
I was going into town with my father. We were going to consider doing
some trading with the local folks and I saw a large procession taking
place where there were groups of people walking down the street. I,
having the same curiosity as I did a few days before decided to follow
the crowd and see what all the commotion was about. My father said that
we may follow the colonists though we must stay our distance. We walked
to where the gathering was taking place and I realized then that what
was taking place was a funeral, I kept a thought in the back of my mind
that it may have been for the little boy I saw be killed a few days
before.
As I got closer I realized that the ceremony was for the boy.
Christopher Seider they called him. A minister read from the bible and
said... “Let us pray solemn tribute to this boy who died for us. We
will all miss him greatly, though let us use this as an example of what
the Loyalists to the King are doing to us.” Christopher Seider died
with two bullets in him, was what I heard from one of the locals. One
hit him just above the heart and one in the eye. What a gruesome death.
After the minister spoke, Everyone got in line to get ready to carry
the boys body to it’s final resting place. Poor people walking abreast
line by line, then had came the Boston Leaders in their fancy
carriages. Though to me it didn’t matter who was first because they
were all walking to the same place. I was strongly hoping that the
white man that killed Christopher Seider went to jail!
Six school boys carried the wooden box. It must have been hard for
them, it would be for me. My father and I both walked toward the back
of the line. We walked through Faneuil Hall, past the Town House where
the governor and council met, down to the liberty tree, and down into
the Granary Graveyard. It truly breaks my heart to see a little boy be
a victim of a stupid disagreement. He was buried down deep in his
grave. Some people left flowers as a tribute. I wonder how his parents
felt? I thought that it was amazing that kids would care so much.
After the funeral was over I heard bells ringing throughout the day. I
was sad. I wondered if the Patriot Sam Adams had anything to do with
this funeral? The reason I think of him is because I heard him too
speak at the funeral. He wasn’t the most attractive man either. I
hoped that the future days bring more joyous then sad
occasions.
Dream Wolf
March 8, 1770
This was my last day in Boston. My tribe has made many a trade
and been very successful. Some of the things that my tribe traded with
the colonist were: squash, pumpkin, wild berries, venison, and sea
shells so that the colonists could make jewelry for their wives and
children. Red Hawk gave me some lavender and a cologne that
contained different fragments of herbs, for a slight headache that I
somehow obtained. I was very pleased for that, though I am not pleased
because yet another sad event took place over the past few days. They
called it The Massacre on King Street.
The Massacre on King Street had something to do with the colonist and
the British Solders. There was a fight and three Patriots were killed
on spot and two died a couple of days later. Six people were also
wounded after all this was over. It was another sad and depressing time
for everyone. My father and the people in my tribe are who I think are
the only ones who do not feel anything for these people. I do sadly
because I witnessed one of the events and the others heard about them.
How I found out about the Massacre was that I was going with my father
and tribe leader into town to see if they had any hay for the ponies
for the long walk back home and there was all this murmuring about some
fight that happened in front of the Town House. Apparently some people
died.
Father, myself and Chief Long Horn all went to get hay and as I looked
over my soldier I saw yet another group of people all gathered very
close to us. Very similar to Christopher Seiders funeral. I thought to
myself, oh lord now what has happened, I asked my chief if it was ok if
he did this last trade without me. He didn’t fully approve though he
did allow me to go. I thanked him greatly. I really wanted to know what
was going on. Sure enough it was another funeral. It was for all of the
victims of The Massacre on King Street. I wanted to take part so I
stepped in and took my place at the back of the line. Without my father
there I felt out of place and nervous. I didn’t want to get hurt.
The funeral path was the same as it was for the other funeral. We
walked from Faneuil Hall, past the Town House where the governor and
council met, down the liberty tree, and down into the Granary Graveyard
beside Chris Seider. It was a very emotional moment. The Six victims
were all buried side by side next to Chris. Both funeral processions
were a mile long. I hope that all the events that have happened open
the eyes of the colonist, to know what is really going on. The
newspaper described this tragedy as: “The aggravated circumstances of
their death the distress and sorrow visible in every countenance
together with which the funeral was conducted surpass description.” The
five victims were : Cripis Attacks, James Caldwell, Samuel Maverick,
Samuel Gray, and Patrick Carr. There were hundreds and hundreds of
people there that day.
I have had quite a lot of emotional times these past weeks and will
look forward to peace and quiet.
Dream Wolf
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Historical References:
Allison, Robert. A
Short History of Boston. United States. 2004
Daily Life in 1621. April 5 2006. http://teacher.scholastic.com
/thanksgiving/Plymouth/daily.htm
Hoose, Phillip. We Were There
Too. United States. 2001
Millender, Dharathula. Crispus
Attacks. First Alladdin Paperbacks edu.
1986
Native Ingenuity. March 31, 2006.
www.boston.com/news/globe/ideas/articales/2005/
09104/native_ingenuity/ ?page=1
Stefoff, Rebecca. American Voices From Colonial Life.
Marshall
Cavendish Corperation. 2003
The Boston, Massacre. 25 April 2006. www.home.att.net/~betsnewmark/
Bostinfo.html
The Boston Massacre. 25 April 2006. www.psb.org/wgbh/amx/adams/
peopleevents/e_massacre.
Wampanoag History. April 6 2006. www.tolatsga.org/wampa.html
Wampanoag History. April 9 2006. www.geocities.com/bigorrin/
wampanoag_kids.htm
Wolf, Evelyn. From Abenaki to Zuni. Walker Publishing
Company Inc. 1998
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