The following letters between Sarah and Stand Watie reflect the hardships they experienced during the Civil War.

Stand Watie (1806–1871) was a member of the Ridge Party, which opposed the Ross Party for decades. Although they did not have authorization, John Ridge, Elias Boudinot, The Ridge, and others endorsed the Treaty of New Echota, which ceded Cherokee land to the United States government in exchange for land in Indian Territory. With that action, they essentially sealed their own death warrants, since the tribe had a law that forbade such actions. The large majority of tribal members opposed removal and the treaty. The United States government used the Treaty of New Echota to force removal of the Cherokees from the East. Shortly after the Ridge Party arrived in Indian Territory, John Ridge, Elias Boudinot, and Major Ridge were murdered. Stand Watie survived.

Watie continued to oppose Ross and his party. He also became a Confederate general. Therefore, Watie and Ross were on opposite sides of the Civil War, just as they had been on different sides since 1835. Both families lost children and other relatives in the war.

Sarah Watie (1820–1882) experienced physical and psychological trauma throughout the war. Like her husband, her son Saladin fought for the Confederate cause. Their son Cumiskey died at age fifteen in 1863. He was not in battle but rather at home with his mother. The Waties had five children.

When the war broke out, Sarah fled with her children first to the Red River, then to Texas to live with relatives. She was accustomed to relying on slaves to perform the most arduous labor, especially agricultural chores. Female slaves milked cows; made butter, cheese, candles, and soap; and did the spinning, weaving, and sewing. They cooked, gathered wood, hauled water, and washed clothes. In her extensive correspondence with her husband, Sarah wrote that she had to spin every day in order to keep her children clothed. Because manufactured goods were generally unavailable, women’s domestic drudgery increased dramatically. Sarah spent much of her time trying to secure food and provisions and even had to plant crops herself. Because traditional Cherokee women were accustomed to this sort of labor, they did not experience the psychological anguish Sarah did when she performed duties she believed were not properly her responsibility.

At times, Sarah Watie felt such despair that she even urged Stand to desert. Finally, she received her husband’s letter of June 23, 1865, stating, “Have agreed upon cessation of hostilities.” Near Doaksville, the capital of the Choctaw Nation, on a blazing hot day, June 23, 1865, General Stand Watie surrendered to Lieutenant Colonel A. C. Mathews. He was the last Confederate general to surrender his command in the Civil War.1

Bust of Stand Watie

COURTESY OF WESTERN HISTORY COLLECTIONS, UNIVERSITY OF OKLAHOMA, PHILLIPS COLLECTION, #1459

Sarah Watie

COURTESY OF WESTERN HISTORY COLLECTIONS, UNIVERSITY OF OKLAHOMA, PHILLIPS COLLECTION, #1453

May 20th, 1863,
Rusk, Texas

My Dear Husband,

I do not know what to say first[. T]here is many things to say. I never could begin to tell you half as everything seems to go wrong. I have been here at sister N [Nancy Starr’s] one week. I find her very low yet she gains very slowly[.] I do not find her as well as I thought she would be. I heard from her before I left home. I thought she would be able to walk when I got here but now I don’t believe she will ever get well. I find much discord here….

We have no news here about the army. We hear of several fights in Tennessee but I do not know as to the truth of them. This state is just like all the rest…. I want you to write to me and tell me what I must do if they get in here, must I sell the boys or not? I do not want to be so near the Choctaw line as [I] am now. Nancy wants to buy a place here or near here, there is one here for sale at three thousand in Confederate money. Lucian Bell knows the place. I want to get near the school so the children can go all the time but you can guess better than I can how long we will have to stay. There is a good school near here and I would like to get a place and send [the children] to it. The new session begins in September. I will try and get paper so as to write you a good long letter. I wish I could just see you an hour or two. I know you would laugh at some of the experiences of these white folks. I saw Carlott Ivy; you know that she knows all. I will go to see you as soon as I can get the Children to school and some clothes for you. I can’t live through the year and not go, you can write and tell me whether there will be danger or not. I will not go till I know that there will be no danger, you know too that, I can’t stay away so long from you. It grieves me to think that we are so far from each other[. I]f anything should happen we are too far off for to help each other. Be a good man as you always have been. At the end a clear conscience before God and man is the advice of your wife.

S. Watie

Burn this for it is nonsense. All the children send love. All well.

June 8th, 1863

My Dear Half,

I have just got home from Rusk and found Grady here and a letter from you dated the 27th of April. It gave me a great deal of pleasure to know that you still have time to write and cast a thought on home and home folks. Mr. Kelly and W. Fields will start as soon as I finish my letters. I have not had a chance to write you a long letter since you left. Grady tells me that Charles [Webber] and Saladin have killed a prisoner. Write and tell me who it was and how it was. Tell my boys to always show mercy as they expect to find God merciful to them. I do hate to hear such things[. I]t almost runs me crazy to hear such things. I find myself almost dead sometimes thinking about it. I am afraid that Saladin never will value human life as he ought. If you should ever catch William Ross, don’t have him killed. I know how bad his mother would feel but keep him till the war is over. I know they all deserve death but I do feel for his old mother and then I want them to know that you do not want to kill them[,] just to get them out of your way. I want them to know you are not afraid of their influence. Always do as near right as you can. I feel sorry that you have such a bad chance and so much to do; be careful of yourself. We have not a bit of water here, we almost starve for water…. It looks like I can’t live and not hear from you. You must write and tell me when it will be safe to come. I send the bay horse; the black was too poor to go. I will bring him. You can either send that back or keep him till I come. I can sell him for six hundred here. I have not time to say goodbye. Yours,

Write soon,

S. C. [Sarah] Watie

Camp near North Fork
Nov. 12th, 1863

My Dear Sally:

I have not heard from you since your letter brought in by Anderson. When Medlock went away I was out on a scout. I went to Tahlequah and Park Hill. Took Dannie Hicks and John Ross. Would not allow them killed because you said Wm. Ross must not be killed on old Mrs. Jack Ross’s account. Killed a few Pins in Tahlequah. They had been holding council. I had the old council house set on fire and burnt down, also John Ross’ house [Rose Cottage]. Poor Andy Nave was killed. He refused to surrender and was shot by Dick Fields. I felt sorry as he used to be quite friendly towards me before the war, but it could not be helped. I would [a] great deal rather have taken him prisoner. Since my return I have been sick but now [am a] good deal better…. Since [Confederate general William] Steele’s and [Confederate general Douglas H.] Cooper’s retreat from Fort Smith, I have been placed in command of the Indian Troops[, all] but Choctaws.

When I first sat down to write I thought I would send you a long letter but I am annoyed almost to death by people calling on me on business of various kinds, this and that.

I will send you pork enough to do you in a few days. I have concluded to have the hogs killed here and the meat hauled to you. You need not try to buy any. I can get it here….

Let me hear from you often and let me know how you are doing. Whenever the troops go into winter quarters I will go home to you. I have not been as well this fall as I used to. I can’t get rid of this bad cough. Saladin is well…. Love to the little ones and everybody else.

Your husband,

Stand Watie

Near or at the same place
Dec 12th, 1863

My Dear Stand,

I have not been in a right good [spirit since] you left for several [reasons,] none [of which] I shall name here. We are getting along as well as we can under the circumstances. We always [go] about under more disadvantages than anyone else. We always feed more folks than anybody else and get less thanks. We have our troubles here as well as other places…. Send us all that you can in the way of work tools, ploughs and other things. We have no such things—send me a loom if you can without too much trouble—don’t risk too much for it[. I]f I had one I could do better.

I have been busy ever since you left but it looks like we can’t keep ahead or even. I have spun every day since you left and still all are bare for clothing except Jack and Ninny, but all are well now and we can do better. Charlotte has a bad cough, I fear she will not last long—that is[,] many years. I am sorry you are not so well as you were at the beginning [of the] war. So many of our friends have died…. We have had such bad luck with our children that it keeps me always uneasy about them. Bring Charles Watie with you and Saladin for I do not like for him to be there when you are not there…. Send all you can and come soon….

Yours,

S. C. [Sarah] Watie

Camp Watie on Middle Boggy
April 24th, 1864

My Dear Sallie,

… The wild Indians from Kansas are getting to be very troublesome on the western border. [Confederate] Col. [William] Adair crossed Arkansas River below Gibson but I have not heard from him since; a few men left off from him and returned; they fell in with some Pins[. O]ne of their number[,] young Bent[,] is supposed to be killed. Adair has stirred up the Pins no doubt before now. None but Creeks are at Gibson, part of the Pin Regts have gone to Scullyville.

Two men and two women came out from Fort Smith a few days since they reported the Feds there, about 800. A few days after, two young boys came out, they reported the same story. All agree that the Feds are short of provisions since the failure of the enemy to occupy Texas. Troops at Fort Smith and Gibson, I think I will act on the defensive. We are now ready to move, only waiting for orders…. I have always been opposed to killing women and children although our enemies have done it, yet I shall always protest against any acts of that kind…. No property is safe anywhere; stealing and open robbery is of every day’s occurrence.

I am very tired of this camp; we have bad water.

After Parks’ [Lieutenant Colonel Robert C. Parks of Watie’s unit] death all sorts of lies were told that I had planned everything. I am sorry that I should be charged in public of an act of that kind but it seems that is my doom. Let me act as I will, my conduct is always considered wrong. No charity was ever shown me yet, I have lived through it and I trust and hope that justice and right will be meted out to me some day. Although these things have been heaped upon me and [it] would be supposed that I became hardened and would be reckless but it still hurts my feelings. I am not a murderer.

Sometimes I examine myself thoroughly and I will always come to the conclusion that I am not such a bad man at last as I am looked upon. God will give me justice. If I am to be punished for the opinions of other people who do not know my heart, I can’t help it. If I commit an error I do it without bad intention. My great crime in the world is blunder; I will get into scrapes without intention or any bad motive. I call upon my God to judge me, he knows that I love my friends and above all others, my wife and children; the opinion of the world to contrary notwithstanding. Love to the little ones, and my friends….

Your affectionate husband,

Stand

July 2nd, 1864

My Dear Husband

… I wish you would resign and let them all go all they want to. I can always hear something said that makes me mad. I never go anywhere but I hear something said about that order you sent down here by Lucien Bell for them to go back to camp by the 25 of March. They all pretend that they did not believe you sent it. I want you to call them all up and tell them for I don’t look for anything else but for Hooley to be killed about it. You can ask Hooley about it when he gets there. You have no idea how much talk and fuss that has made among them here. The men write and throw out hints and then the women do it….

… I do wish one could have peace once more but I fear that is not for me to see in my day. There is a great many things I would put in this letter but I have heard that my letters were opened sometimes so it would not do to trust every little foolishness in here. Keep your eye on Saladin and guide him in the right way and don’t let him go astray. I will go see Charlotte before long. Next week I will be at her home for a short time. When you write, send [the letter] by her house. I want to stay at her house in grape time for I never saw so many in my life. I want to make a barrel of wine for you against [when] you come to see me. I can gather bushels of them [with]in a quarter of a mile of the house. Do write. Don’t wait so long and tell me if I must go back or not. I would not have come if Saladin had not wanted me to. Love to all.

S. C. [Sarah] Watie

Wood County [Texas]
Sept 4, 1864

My dear husband,

… When I see you I will tell you a good many things that I do not want to put on paper. I hope you will come as soon as you can. I will be somewhere in my old neighborhood ready to see you all. I hope the war will close soon and we will get time to sit down in peace but it does look to me as if I could not contain myself anywhere. I am all out of sorts. This war, it will ruin a great many good people, they will not only lose all their property but a great many will lose their character which is more value than all their property. You can hardly hear people speak of any of our people but something said that is against their character. I am almost ashamed of my tribe. It has got to be such a common talk that they all follow the army and that for bad purposes. I have long since lost all interest in my people. I sometimes feel that I will never be with them anymore and it does not make any odds whether or not. I could not do them any good. I want to see the end of this war and then I will be willing to give up the ghost. You will think that I got in the dumps before I got done [with] my letter, well I do get that way when I think what they are and what they might be…. Love to all. They all send love. Ninny [the Waties’ daughter] has written you.

Yours affectionately,

S. C. [Sarah] Watie

Lamar [County, Texas]
Oct. 9, 1864

My Dear,

… I intend to sow wheat as soon as I can. I do think it is not worth my time to try to do much these times. If you were [only] out just to look around and see how we are to do. I thought I would send you some clothes but I hear that you have done better than to wait on me for them. Well, I don’t feel a bit like writing because I cannot write what I want to say. I have been looking for you to send me some brown domestic and some calico. I have not a sheet till I make it, it is all I can do to keep clothes on the children. I wanted to send them to school but the board is 200 a month, apiece and 12 in provision, what must I do? I want to have your advice on it…. I want you to come as soon as you can. I am so tired of this world I can’t write, it is too cold to sit outdoors and the children talk so much that it pesters me to death…. If you can come this fall do so.

You[rs] as ever,

S. C. [Sarah] Watie

Boggy Depot
Jany. 20, 1865

Dear Sallie:

… I find that I can’t get along well here without help. I have a house without anything. Send Marye Andrews, my box with what clothes you may judge to be sufficient, [and a] few cooking things if you have any which you can do without, don’t forget my big tin cup and whatever you may be able to send me which you do not particularly need at home. Send the Federal Order Books, I find I shall need them. I will not need the tent for a while yet…. [E]ither of the wagons will do, it can be taken back. If you can get it, send about 400 lbs of flour. I can trade it for pork 1 lb for three…. Try to come and stay with me a few days, stay long as you can as we live in a house without sponging on any of our friends.

Yours as ever,

Stand [Sarah to Stand]

Lamar Co.
May 21, 1865

My —

We all feel disappointed at not hearing from you as one week has passed and no word yet. We hear all kinds of rumors and none satisfactory to us. We heard you was captured and have not heard anything to the contrary. We hear that Gen K. Smith [Confederate general Edmund Kirby Smith] has surrendered and then we hear that he has not. So we don’t know what to believe and do let us know all that you know for certain. If it [is] for the worst, let us know it so that we can be prepared for it. If I have to fall among the feds I do not want to be among old Blunts [Union general James G. Blunt’s] set[,] for the pins will be mean enough and what is your prospect? I hear that they have set a price on several of their heads and you are included. That is the rumor. I do not want people to believe it for some of them would be after it. I hear that [Confederate general Douglas H.] Cooper will not give you anything. If he does not I believe they all are speculating of it and I hope that the last of them will sink. I do not want you to do anything of that kind. I would live on bread and water rather than to have it said you had speculated of your people. I believe you have always done what you thought best for your people and I want to die with that last belief. If [I] thought you was working for nothing but fill[ing] your pockets it would trouble me a great deal but I know it is not, else it would have been filled before this time. I know that you are capable of making a living anywhere if we are let alone after the war is over.

S. C. W.

Write soon and send it. I do not know what to believe. If you can get any specie get it for we can’t get anything for Confederate money here and if we have to get away from here which I fear we will, I don’t know what we will do. My notion is that we cannot stay here for the robbers. My black Horse is not found yet. I am all the time afraid the mules will be gone. Write all. We are sold out I believe.

Boggy Depot
May 27th, 1865

Dear Sallie:

No definite news yet, great deal of confusion amongst the troops, more particularly with white portion. I have thought best to send off the majority of them home on furloughs, hints have been thrown out that they would help themselves to the public property. I have sent off enough of them so that I think I can manage the rest…. I only write to let you know that I am still in the land of the living—love to all….

Yours as ever—S2

ENDNOTES

1 Dale and Litton, eds., Cherokee Cavalier, xxi. Dale and Litton provide informative annotations throughout the collection of Watie letters. McLoughlin, After the Trail of Tears, 122.

2 For all of the letters, see Cherokee Nation Papers, Western History Collections, University of Oklahoma, Norman, Okla., record group 2, Personal Papers of the Bell, Boudinot, Ridge and Watie Families, Stand Watie and Sarah Watie Papers, boxes 115–28, folders 3885–4717, rolls 38–41. Sarah C. Watie to Stand Watie, July 2, 1864, Watie Papers, box 115, folder 3900, roll 38.