RUDIMENTS 818.

RUDIMENTS, pt. 818

(President Insurrection meets War Secretary Riot)

It always amazed to learn

that the entire Cherokee

nation, all through Georgia,

eastern Tennessee, and the

hills of Carolina, made their

peace with, and joined, the

Confederacy, as bands of

fierce fighters. They were

known to be vicious warriors,

even in their Johhny Reb

greys. I used to think,'Boy

that must have been some

grudge!' I guessed that

inasmuch as they had

nothing to lose, they also

had nothing to gain. If

they thought it to be anything

but a temporary marriage

of convenience, they must

have been crazy. Those

southern folk, and all those

southern fighting boys, hated

them as much as did anyone

else. North or south, there

was no convenience to be

made. I dug around a little

bit, and found out lots of

interesting things.

-

I often tended to get quite

preoccupied with what I was

doing, in the sense of getting

lost to the work and forgetting

all else. Thankfully, my life

right then fit that very loose

configuration : I really had

no 'hours' and few commitments.

I had a speaker-sheet, for the

lectures and subjects as needed,

at the Studio School, and my

open-ended studio time was

mine alone. So when I did

have to be somewhere, I

knew it. The Studio School

had really ONE organized

activity that they concentrated

on, and which I really disliked.

I did it for a while, but it proved

too uncomfortable and I backed

off, and no one cared, It also

made little sense to me  -  Life

Drawing. It proved too brittle

for me, and all I ever saw was

that the end result of what people

drew made little sense to me  -

all sorts of harsh lines and

jagged squiggles, palsied

as it appeared. Shaking. I

myself just couldn't, let's

say, preoccupy myself and

draw at the same time, while

looking at one or two naked

babes stretching and contorting

on an elevated platform for 15

or 20 minutes at a time. I'm

sorry to admit, but it no longer

became about 'drawing.'

Guys too, which just became

annoying as well  -  mainly

because you knew they were

exhibitionists and were only

up there for their 35 bucks

because they were going to be

seen as well-endowed and

happy over it. Not my style.

Besides, the room wasn't

large enough for TWO big

guys (that's a joke,see).

-

Usually, I'd manage to chum

up with someone, after a while,

and we'd find something to do.

Jim Tomberg and junk metal,

subway trips to Brooklyn and

junkyards, dragging back odd

pieces of metal for him to

sculpt with. And, inevitably,

someone, seeing us heaving

metal around or riding the

rail car, would ask what was

up. Jim would say outlandish

things : 'We just came from a

train wreck down the line;

mangled steel everywhere.

We had to bring back some

samples of damages to the

bigwigs who investigate

accidents. We're just hoping

we get off here in time

ourselves  -  signals are

out all down the line. Same

thing will probably happen

to this train before long.'

The lady and child sitting

down the  seat from the guy

who asked,  hearing all this,

would turn white in terror.

This was back when train

windows still opened. I

fully expected someone

in a panic one of those days

to barf out the train window.

-

In order for white settlers to

'settle' the Appalachians, the

'Indians had to be moved out

first.' The Cherokee Nation

once inhabited a vast area

of George, Tennessee, and

today's North Carolina. Each

wave of white immigration

into the mountain regions was

accompanied by a treaty which

resulted in the Cherokees being

deprived of more and more of

their land and rights, beginning

with the Treaty of Hopewell,

(curious name for that; for

whom the hope?)...Fierce

Cherokee resistance and small

wars resulted each time in

the white man's superior

firepower, and organization,

taking a heavy toll. By about

the 1830's, the 17,000 or so

Cherokees left were basically

spent, and exhausted, impoverished

and out of everything. They

were so weak that any resistance

would have meant their total

annihilation. Then they were

promised money, and were

eventually removed to points

west, a mission undertaken

under the direction of General

Winfield Scott. This was added to

the previous forced displacement,

called the 'Trail of Tears.' Those

Cherokee who refused these

further lies fled, a large portion

of the North Carolina Cherokees,

balking, fled into the mountains.

They settled (think, NJ, the Ramapo

Whites), some of them, in what

would become Haywood County,

and established a central village

which they named Quallatown,

on the banks of the Soco Creek,

near the rivers' Tuckaseegee and

Oconoluftee juncture. Even to this

day they are still there, and at one

point, in this time-period, they

were led by William Holland

Thomas, a white man who had

grown into their culture and was

eventually elected as their 'Chief.'

23 years after the Great Removal,

he led virtually every able-bodied

Cherokee make into battle on

the Confederate side, creating

 one of the most ruthless, vicious

and colorful Confederate units:

'Thomas' Highland Legion.'

(They eventually developed the

English Muffin. Kidding!)...They

were the only Confederate unit

given their autonomy, and their

tactics and battle ways, and

scalpings too, struck terror into

Union soldiers' hearts; some units

of which surrendered in terror

rather than have to try to fight

off the bushwhackers of that

Legion. Quite a scene, indeed!!

-

I used to walk around the streets

of New York City taking note

of all those places where the

Civil War too had affected things.

The Draft Riots of course, and

the street furies and lynchings 

and the rest. All of a sudden, by

1860, the patterned and mannered

format of the early American

Revolution had again fallen

into insurrection, factionalism

and brutal despair. Many of

the New York regiments sent

out were Irishmen of fierce

intent, your immigrant sons

of young immigrant arrivals. 

It was all so different and so 

weird to me to imagine lines 

of people cheering the marching 

formations of enthusiastic men

walking off to their actions, 

deaths or doom. The cheers

the huzzahs at dockside, the

boats coming back with the

wounded and dead. Somber

and dread versus willing

and living. There must have

been some strange sounds

at night. Odd words too, the

zouaves and batallion names,

pride place and number. I

was completely stunned

upon learning how, the 

day after the Battle of

Gettysburg, the disoriented,

in-shock, still-dazed Union

troops were turned northeastward

and marched north  -  to occupy

NYC, and quell the rioting an

insurrection. The entire nation 

had turned into its own bleating

quagmire! How many died 

along that march, I wondered?

President Insurrection, meet

War Secretary Riot!