The
soldiers gathered them up, all up, and put them in camps. They
hunted them and ran them down until they got all of them. Even
before they were loaded in wagons, many of them got sick and
died. They were all grief stricken they lost all on earth they
had. White men even robbed their dead_s graves to get their
jewelry and other little trinkets. They saw to stay was impossible
and Cherokees told Gen. Scott they would go without further
trouble and the long journey started. They did not all come
at once. First one batch and then another. The sick, old, and
babies rode on the grub and household wagons. The rest rode
a horse, if they had one. Most of them walked. Many of them
died along the way. They buried them where they died, in unmarked
graves. It was a bitter dose and lingered in the mind of Mrs.
Watts' Grandparents and parents until death took them. The road
they traveled, history calls the "Trail of Tears".
This trail was more than tears. It was death, sorrow, hunger,
exposure, and humiliation to a civilized people as were the
Cherokees.