Yellow Bird's Song

Hello, dear readers. Many of you will know of my recent obsession with finding historical fiction novels set in the early 19th century, and I am excited to share one with you today. Yellow Bird's Song explores the history of the Ridge family and the fate of the Cherokee tribe. Author Heather Miller shares an excerpt with us.

Welcome, Heather!

~ Samantha

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Yellow Bird's Song: An Excerpt

Guest Post by Heather Miller

Sarah Northrup Ridge, Near New Echota, Cherokee Nation East, 1827

Orchards greeted us in neatly planted rows, dense with peaches and apples, creating a fragrance in the air like home. Servants’ quarters bordered the tree line of flat valley land surrounding Diamond Hill. Joe Vann’s large manor, a two-story brick home with expensive glass windows and large white columns, held verandas on the front and the rear of the house. There were corncribs, smokehouses, and outbuildings for weaving and cooking. Given the abundant number of horses and carriages, many attended. A surge rushed through me, nerves on fire, reminding me of the importance of the event, framed by the fear I’d make a mistake.

Our carriage rolled through Vann land between a row of walnut trees bordering endless green pastures. Black and white cows, silent sentinels, gnawed grass and watched as we passed, undisturbed. As the horses pulled us the last distance, I saw an open door at the side of the house. From it, trails of servants carried trays and crockery from the exterior kitchen to the main house near white linen tablecloths and white-washed ladderback chairs in neat rows. Their movement reminded me of fire ants seeking sweets, and, in a line, returning to their self-constructed dirt abodes. Other servants turned a pig on an open fire, slaughtered for the occasion. The smell of salt and fat from the roasted meat mingled with the aromatic sweet apples hanging on the trees. The bees hummed louder amidst such plenty. 

Most whites were surprised to know slavery existed among the Cherokee. John and I argued over the institution. The Ridges treated their servants like family. However, their will to choose their lives was the identical desire of John’s people, fighting for God-given liberty to govern themselves. While we still lived with his family, I could do little but speak to my husband and pursue change. But I knew a time would come when America and the Cherokee Nation must make the moral choice, no matter the economic difficulty such a choice might bring. 

Once I stepped from the carriage, John held my gloved hand and said, “I’m instituting the wink law.” John’s top hat shaded half of his face, so I couldn’t see his eyes in the bright sunlight. I predicted his expression from his carefree tone. “Are you familiar, Mistress Ridge?” he asked.

“I am not, Mister Ridge. However, I would hate to violate without intention.”

“Ignorance of the law is no excuse. It is in the Constitution.”

“I’m aware.” I grinned.

“One wink means I have ten minutes to end my conversation and take you home.”

“What does a whole blink mean?” I asked. 

I surprised him with my question. “I don’t know. You have something in your eye?”

“A whole blink means I’m proud of you and content to remain by your side, but thank you for saying so. You know I am worried about leaving Rollin and Clarinda with Honey. She can manage one, but if Rollin wails…”

“Amendment duly noted, Mistress Ridge.” He rechecked his watch. “I’ll have you back to our children in hours.” His promise was sincere, just under the surface of his sarcasm.

I pulled him close so I could whisper. “Promise me you won’t leave me alone too often.” For a man so aware of time, he lost hours debating politics.

“Agreed. I hope we get to mingle with the many guests in the time we have. Some have traveled great distances and are new here.”

Major and Mother followed us into the sunlight. A row of white women adorned in a rainbow of pastels held fast to their matching parasols with white-gloved hands and whispered about the heat while their white-breeched, black-booted husbands stood in small circles gesturing about important matters. White pipe smoke hazed around their heads. 

Shirtless Cherokee separated themselves by sitting on their heels on the ground. Cherokee women walked through the guests with red and purple baskets in their arms and yellowed gourds slung from leather straps around their necks. Like John’s family, wealthy Cherokee slipped easily between these two groups. As for me, I did not know where I’d fit in this mix of classes and attitudes.

Continue reading Yellow Bird's Song

Rollin Ridge, a mercurial figure in this tribal tale, makes a fateful decision in 1850, leaving his family behind to escape the gallows after avenging his father and grandfather’s brutal assassinations. With sin and grief packed in his saddlebags, he and his brothers head west in pursuit of California gold, embarking on a journey marked by hardship and revelation. Through letters sent home, Rollin uncovers the unrelenting legacy of his father’s sins, an emotional odyssey that delves deep into his Cherokee history.

The narrative’s frame transports readers to the years 1827-1835, where Rollin’s parents, Cherokee John Ridge and his white wife, Sarah, stumble upon a web of illicit slave running, horse theft, and whiskey dealings across Cherokee territory. Driven by a desire to end these inhumane crimes and defy the powerful pressures of Georgia and President Andrew Jackson, John Ridge takes a bold step by running for the position of Principal Chief, challenging the incumbent, Chief John Ross. The Ridges face a heart-wrenching decision: to stand against discrimination, resist the forces of land greed, and remain on their people’s ancestral land, or to sign a treaty that would uproot an entire nation, along with their family.

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Connect with Heather

As a veteran English teacher and college professor, Heather has spent nearly thirty years teaching her students the author’s craft. Now, with empty nest time on her hands, she’s writing herself, transcribing lost voices in American’s history.

Connect with Heather on her website, Twitter, Facebook, TikTok, Pinterest, Amazon Author Page, and Goodreads. 

What I'm Reading: Red Clay, Running Waters

Red Clay, Running Waters is a debut novel from author Leslie K Simmons, featuring the true story of Cherokee advocate John Ridge. I am connected with Leslie through Historical Writers Forum and had a peek at the first chapters of this moving novel before its publication. When I was offered the opportunity to read the entire finished product, of course, I said yes. My dear readers will undoubtedly recognize why I was drawn to this tragic protagonist.

From the opening scene, there is a heartbreaking quality about this book. The reader does not need to have deep knowledge of US history to know that Ridge's quest to help lead an independent Cherokee nation within Georgia, or at least have his people maintain some level of autonomy, is doomed from the start. Joining him on his journey is an emotive ride. 

John becomes aware of what the Cherokee people are up against when he travels as a teenager to missionary school in Connecticut. Accepting that Christianity is the price he must pay for an excellent education, he leaves home with lofty goals. Seeing cities like Philadelphia and New York forces him to accept that there will be no holding back the wave of white settlers spreading westward from the east coast. The Cherokee Nation must survive through diplomacy, for it will not be able to do so through power.

John Ridge

An unanticipated result of John's time in New England is his marriage to Sarah Northrop, the daughter of the white family working at the school. The couple underestimates the negativity the revelation of their relationship is met with. John slowly realizes that the white Christians believe the Indians deserve the gospel but not equality. “The respect I believed we gained through our efforts are merely platitudes, a means for the Whites to congratulate themselves on their condescension and benevolence.”

One aspect of the Cherokee's story will likely surprise readers. While most will have some idea of what the Trail of Tears was, less is known about the Cherokee Nation before removal. John and Sarah Ridge lived in an expansive plantation home and enslaved many people. Slave ownership is not excused in this story, though the Ridges are portrayed as benevolent owners, as much as one can be who claims others as property. A few mentions of those who are cruel are made but only as exceptions. There are a few moments of John contemplating the similarity of the Cherokee position to that of blacks, but never to the extent that he considers that blacks too deserve their freedom. It adds a real-life complication to the story to have those suffering from racism practicing it themselves.

At almost 700 pages, this book is a commitment to following Ridge through each step of his struggles. The author does not leave anything out or cram multiple events into one as has become common in modern historical fiction, creating a highly accurate rendition of events but one that moves thoughtfully if sometimes slowly.

The true character of Andrew Jackson is on full display. One character states, “This man of the common people who spurned aristocracy seems to have no issue with treating others like subjects.” I couldn't agree more and have included similar observations in my upcoming biography of James Alexander Hamilton, who served as Jackson's temporary Secretary of State and advised him throughout his presidency. Unfortunately, few people have been as dependent on the outcome as a presidential election as the Cherokee Nation, and Jackson's second term was a disaster for them.

I learned a lot reading this book, and I'm still not sure exactly how I feel about John Ridge. He was devoted to what he felt was right, but was there a way that would have resulted in less heartache? Even in hindsight, I can't say. Neither he nor his family deserved what happened. More than that I will not say, so that you can read his story for yourself in Red Clay, Running Waters.

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