Edison in the Smokies

[From May 15, 2007]

 

101 years ago, Thomas Edison spent a few days in Jackson County (NC) examining cobalt deposits for a storage battery that he was developing. It was not the last trip that Edison would make to the mountains.

His camping trips with Henry Ford, Harvey Firestone, John Burroughs and others notables are legendary. The old photo [above] shows the “vagabonds” camping (and shaving) in the Smokies in 1918. Left to right: Henry Ford, Bishop William F. Anderson, Harvey Firestone (stooping). Thomas A. Edison and President Warren G. Harding

One tale of the campers’ adventures is re-told by Patricia Zacharias of The Detroit News :

En route to a new campsite on a rainy day, the Lincoln touring car carrying Harding, Ford, Edison, Firestone and naturalist Luther Burbank bogged down in deep mud on a back road in West Virginia.

Ford's chauffeur went for help and returned with a farmer driving an ancient Model T. After the Lincoln was yanked from the mire, Ford was the first to shake the farmer's hand.

"I guess you don't know me but I'm Henry Ford. I made the car you're driving."

Firestone chimed in, "I'm the man who made those tires." Then he introduced two of the campers: "Meet the man who invented the electric light -- and the President of the United States."

Luther Burbank was the last to shake hands. "I guess you don't know me either?" he asked.

"No," said the farmer, "but if you're the same kind of liar as these other darn fools, I wouldn't be surprised if you said you was Santa Claus."

The Amazing Spiderwort

 [From June 12, 2009]

It has been great fun to get more acquainted with wildflowers this year. I only regret that I’ve waited so long to give them the attention they deserve. The past couple of weeks had been a fairly slow time for finding new flowers. As the trees leafed out and the forest canopy closed, the early spring flowers deep in the woods have faded.

Now, it’s time to look elsewhere. This week, a flower hunter could do worse than to look alongside the Blue Ridge Parkway from Balsam Gap to Waterrock Knob. Rhododendrons and flame azaleas are hard to miss, even if you’re zipping past at 45 MPH. But anyone who gets out and takes the time to look will find lots and lots of smaller flowers blooming. I’m still culling from a couple of hundred photos I took there this week.

The spiderwort, one of the few flowers I could have identified before this year, is blooming in abundance. I enjoy taking macro shots, and even though a photographer might pass up the spiderwort for more charismatic flowers, it is a splendid subject if you stop and take a closer look. Generally speaking, bright sun is not the ideal condition for taking wildflower pictures. I’ve found, though, that with flowers that lend themselves to close-ups, the bright sun helps in achieving clear, sharp results. Predictably, this is less true for white flowers. For some reasons I don’t quite understand, yellow flowers are even more difficult to photograph well in bright light, at least in my experience. That’s not a problem with the blues and purples of the spiderworts.

I had known that the spiderwort was of particular interest to botanists although I had forgotten why. They have several notable characteristics:

-The plants are easily hybridized.

-Their cell structure makes it relatively easy to observe the flow of cytoplasmic fluid through the plant.

-Due to its large chromosomes, spiderwort is the plant of choice for viewing (under a microscope) cell division in the stamen hairs.

-Old petals don’t fall from the flower, as with most plants, but seem to melt due to certain enzymes.




One of the most curious traits of the spiderwort is its response to ionizing radiation, such as gamma rays. Upon exposure, the stamen hairs which are normally blue will turn purple or pink. So the plant is studied as a natural barometer of air pollution and radiation. Less than two weeks after contamination from low “safe” doses of radiation or hazardous chemicals the stamen hairs will start to mutate and change color. Since the spiderwort can absorb toxins and store them internally, it gives a more useful measure of the cumulative effect of contamination over time, compared to other means of measuring external and temporary levels of toxins.

Reportedly, the Cherokees used the spiderwort for food and medicine. The young leaves were eaten as salad greens. The plant was mashed into a paste and rubbed onto insect bites to relieve itching and pain. The roots were used in a poultice to treat cancer. A tea made from the plant was used as a laxative and for stomachaches.

If I have identified it correctly, the spiderwort I found in such abundance along the Parkway this week was the Mountain Spiderwort, Tradescantia subaspera var. montana. Fortunately, thanks to some prior study of the wildflower guide I had known to be alert for another member of the spiderwort family. Otherwise, I might have ignored the Commelina communis as more of the same. As with the Mountain Spiderwort, this plant has three petals, but it would be easy to assume that it is missing one. While two of the petals are blue (and bluer than the Mountain Spiderworts that I’ve seen) the third petal is smaller, white, and easily overlooked. Some people call this plant Mouse Flower since the two blue petals do resemble a pair of mouse ears. But it is better known as the Common Dayflower, which refers to the blooms lasting only one day before melting away.

Spiderwort

I always see my father's eyes as blue
When spiderwort comes up in spring. I saw
It first when no one in Nebraska knew
What name it had in Gray's old botany.

None but my father. He would leave his team,
Take down the book he'd sold the seed-corn for,
Scan page, and say: "That's spiderwort." In fall,
"Oh, no, not weeds. That's blazing star." I'm glad

Except for what my mother must endure,
He left us hungry, chased some wan, wild goose;
But told me names of shepherd's purse in spring
And tumble-weed and golden-rod in fall.

- Margaret E. Haughawout (1929)

Wild Strawberry Fields Forever

[From May 24, 2008]

Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see.

It's getting hard to be someone but it all works out.

It doesn't matter much to me.

Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields.

Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about.

Strawberry Fields forever.

-The Beatles

Today, I spent a few hours mowing and was richly rewarded when I uncovered a bunch of wild strawberries. I switched off the lawnmower and gathered the tender fruit.

Whenever I taste a wild strawberry, I automatically think back to the time that William Bartram crossed the Cowees at Leatherman Gap and descended into Alarka Valley.

What an incredible coincidence for me to find wild strawberries on May 24, 2008, because it was May 24, 1775 that William Bartram encountered this scene:

…enjoyed a most enchanting view, a vast expanse of green meadows and strawberry fields; a meandering river gliding through, saluting in its various turnings the swelling, green, turfy knolls, embellished with parterres of flowers and fruitful strawberry beds; flocks of turkies strolling about them; herds of deer prancing in the meads or bounding over the hills; companies of young, innocent Cherokee virgins, some busily gathering the rich fragrant fruit, others having already filled their baskets, lay reclined under the shade of floriferous and fragrant native bowers of Magnolia, Azalea, Philadelphus, perfumed Calycanthus, sweet Yellow Jessamine and cerulian Glycine frutescens, disclosing their beauties to the fluttering breeze, and bathing their limbs in the cool fleeting streams; whilst other parties, more gay and libertine, were yet Collecting strawberries or wantonly chasing their companions, tantalising them, staining their lips and cheeks with the rich fruit.

Keep in mind that Bartram was a 36-year-old man who’d endured several weeks of difficult travel, far from the comforts of home:

This sylvan scene of primitive innocence was enchanting, and perhaps too enticing for hearty young men long to continue idle spectators. In fine, nature prevailing over reason, we wished at least to have a more active part in their delicious sports. Thus precipitately resolving, we cautiously made our approaches, yet undiscovered, almost to the joyous scene of action.

Now, although we meant no other than an innocent frolic with this gay assembly of hamadryades, we shall leave it to the person of feeling and sensibility to form an idea to what lengths our passions might have hurried us, thus warmed and excited, had it not been for the vigilance and care of some envious matrons who lay in ambush, and espying us gave the alarm, time enough for the nymphs to rally and assemble together; we however pursued and gained ground on a group of them, who had incautiously strolled to a greater distance from their guardians, and finding their retreat now like to be cut off, took shelter under cover of a little grove, but on perceiving themselves to be discovered by us, kept their station, peeping through the bushes; when observing our approaches, they confidently discovered themselves and decently advanced to meet us, half unveiling their blooming faces, incarnated with the modest maiden blush, and with native innocence and cheerfulness presented their little baskets, merrily telling us their fruit was ripe and sound.

We accepted a basket, sat down and regaled ourselves on the delicious fruit, encircled by the whole assembly of the innocently jocose sylvan nymphs; by this time the several parties under the conduct of the elder matrons, had disposed themselves in companies on the green, turfy banks.

For an itinerant botanist who answered to the name "Puc Puggy", Billy Bartram knew how to have a good time.

On this very day, 233 years ago, he took great delight…

…in wild strawberries.

Heart of the Cowees - From a Distance

Conduct an internet search for “Cowee Mountains” and you’ll get a long list of references to the Cowee Mountains Overlook, at mile 430.7 on the Blue Ridge Parkway. A few of those sites will give you the impression that the overlook is located in the Cowee Mountains, but that is definitely not the case. In fact, Cowee Mountains Overlook (elevation 5950) is in the spectacular Plott Balsams where it affords a long-range view of the Cowees on the western horizon.

Many Parkway visitors regard Cowee Mountains Overlook as their favorite overlook on the entire scenic road, and that is easy to understand. With a panoramic view facing west, it is a perfect place to photograph sunsets over the mountains. One of the last times I was there, late in the day, a dozen photographers had their tripods set up, cameras ready to record the colorful show of land and sky.

Long before the construction of the Blue Ridge Parkway, people have lingered at this place in the Plotts, awestruck by the scenery. One account of such a moment appeared in The Mountain-Region of North Carolina, in an 1877 issue of Appleton’s Journal. The writer, Frances Tiernan, wrote under the pen name “Christian Reid.” [See the endnote below for more about her.] She applied the term “Cullowhee Mountains” to the Cowee Mountains. And she mentioned the Devil’s Old Field, which like today’s Cowee Mountains Overlook, is on the western slope of Richland Balsam (elevation 6410).

The view from Cowee Mountains Overlook - NPS photo

The grass bald known as Devil’s Old Field was integral to the Cherokee legend of a monstrous giant named Judaculla. At some point in the future, I will share a compilation of several accounts of the Judaculla tale. But for now, here’s a description of the sweeping view from Cowee Mountains Overlook, as it appeared almost 150 years ago:

It was the good fortune of the writer to be one of a party who made this ascent during the past summer, and it is little to say that all difficulties and perils were forgotten when we stood at last on the summit of the highest peaks, and felt that we were in the centre of the great system of diverging heights spread around us, far as the gaze could reach, to the uttermost bounds of land and sky. There is an intense exhilaration of mind and body consequent upon attaining such an elevation, and we were exceedingly fortunate in having two days of perfect weather days of the radiant softness which only September gives.

The spot where we found ourselves was a treeless tract of several hundred acres on top of the Balsam range. The Cherokees believe that these open spaces are the footprints of the devil, made as he stepped from mountain to mountain, and this mediumst prairie they regard with peculiar awe as his favorite sleeping-place-probably selected because he likes now and then a complete change of climate. On maps of the State this point is marked "The Devil's Old Field," and, apart from the association with his satanic majesty, the title is not altogether inapposite.

So peculiar is the appearance of these openings, where grass and bushes of all kinds flourish luxuriantly, that one is almost forced to believe that at some remote period man had his habitation here. Like the Black, the Balsam takes its name from the fir which grows upon it, but, unlike the Black, these trees, instead of covering the whole upper part of the mountain, are found only on the north side. On the southern slopes the deciduous forest grows to the summit, and there-as if a line of exact division had been drawn-the latter growth ends, and the sombre realm of the balsam begins.

Having been bold enough to pitch our camp in the midst of the Devil's Old Field, we were probably punished by finding ourselves next morning wrapped in mist at the time that we should have been witnessing the sun rise beyond a thousand peaks. By eight o'clock, however, the clouds lifted, the mist dissolved away, and seated on the rocky crest of a high knob, with air so lucid and fresh that it seemed rather of heaven than earth fanning our brows, we were truly "girdled with the gleaming world."

On one side spread the scenes over which we had journeyed-every height south of the Black clearly visible, and distinctly to be identified—while on the other the country on which we had come to gaze stretched westward, until its great ridges, like giant billows, blended their sapphire outlines with the sky. Overlooking this immense territory, one felt overwhelmed by its magnitude, and the imagination vainly strove to picture the innumerable scenes of loveliness that lay below, among what seemed a very chaos of peaks, gorges, cliffs, and vales.

That the face of this part of the country should appear especially covered with mountains, is not strange when one considers that five great ranges traverse and surround it. Looking west from the Balsam, we saw on our left the Blue Ridge, on our right the Smoky, and in front the Cullowhee, with the Nantahala lying cloud-like in the far distance. Countless intervening chains spread over the vast scene, with graceful lines blending, and dominant points ascending, forming a whole of wondrous harmony.

Near at hand the heights of the Balsam, clad in a rich plumage of forest, surrounded us in serried ranks-a succession of magnificent peaks, infinitely diversified in shape, and nearly approaching the same standard of elevation. What exquisite veils of color they drew around them, as they receded away, wrapping their mighty forms in tenderest purple and blue! The infinite majesty of the great expanse, the unutterable repose which seemed to wrap the towering summits in their eternal calm, filled the mind with delight and awe. No words seemed fitting save the exultant ones of the canticle : "O ye mountains and hills, bless ye the Lord, praise him and magnify him forever!"

On the summit of the height where we sat, the counties of Haywood, Jackson, and Transylvania, meet. Of these Jackson is the most westwardly, and is rich in scenery of the noblest description, being bounded by the Balsam, the Blue Ridge, the Cullowhee, and Great Smoky - the innumerable spurs of which cover it in all directions. Yet here, as elsewhere, the pastoral joins hands with the rugged. These mountains are nearly all fine 'ranges," where thousands of cattle are annually reared with little trouble and less expense to their owners; and through the midst of the county the wildly-beautiful Tuckaseege flows. Rising in the Blue Ridge, this river forces its way through the Cullowhee Mountains in a cataract and gorge of overwhelming grandeur, and, augmented at every step by innumerable mountain-torrents, thunders, foams, and dashes over its rocky bed, until united to the Tennessee-which comes with headlong haste down from the Balsam-and, losing its name in the latter, it cuts a cañon of inexpressible majesty through the Smoky, and pours its current into the valley of East Tennessee. In Jackson, on the southern side of the Blue Ridge, the head-waters of the Savannah River also rise. The Chatooga, which washes the base of the great Whiteside Mountain, flows into Georgia, and, with the Tallulah, forms the Tugaloo, which is the main head of the Savannah.

Such florid verbosity is no longer fashionable, but in defense of the 19^th century writers I would point out that color photographs were not available in 1880. Nowadays, you can log on to the internet and, in seconds, access hundreds of photos of the view from Cowee Mountains Overlook. Way back when, it took a little more work to share the scene with those who could not be there in person.

End note: “Christian Reid” was the pen name of Frances Christine Fisher Tiernan (1846-1920). Born in Salisbury, North Carolina her travels in Western North Carolina inspired her early works, and she published more than 50 novels.

Stories from Sand Town

 [In a couple of weeks the NC Trail of Tears Association will hold a ceremony to dedicate an historic Cherokee village site known as Sand Town. Click here for details via the Cherokee One Feather.  The upcoming event brought to mind some notes from September 11, 2017.]

One of my favorite cemeteries is behind a little church, off the beaten path, in the Cartoogechaye section of Macon County, NC. The church itself has an interesting history, and if not for the unforgettable Rufus Morgan, the chapel would have been long gone. Who knows what that might have meant for the cemetery. Stories of Rufus Morgan must wait another day, though.

One monument in the cemetery is the most memorable of all, marking the graves of Chief Chuttasotee (also known as Jim Peckerwood) and his wife, Cunstagih.

I’d known just a little about Chuttasotee and the Sandtown Cherokees for years, but learned a lot more with the discovery of an article that appeared in The Franklin Press in 1934. I’ll post the newspaper article, written by Margaret Siler, in its entirety, after a couple of shorter stories regarding the village and its people.

But there's a story inside a story here, and it gets buried in the details.  So, I need to invert the usual way to tell the tale.  As will be expanded upon later, Sand Town was a small Cherokee settlement in the Catoogechaye section of Macon Co., NC,  during the decades after the Removal.  And we have some vivid accounts of the individuals who lived there, and particularly the settlement's headman and his wife, whose lives are commemorated in the cemetery.

The story inside the story is how the marker got there.

Chuttasotee and Cunstagih died in August of 1879.  Neighbors came from all around attend their church funerals.  Among the many mourners were four little girls who lived near Sand Town.  

Jump forward 53 years, and those same four, grown up and then some, vowed to raise a suitable memorial to the couple that they knew and loved.  In her 1934 newspaper article, Margaret R. Siler explained that the monument replaced some old makeshift markers:

...[from] the marble top of a dresser broken in two and placed at the heads of the graves of the faithful couple in the shadow of their loved mountains. But today a nobler monument rises above the graves of the last chief of the Sandtown Indians and his wife. There were four little girls at the funerals of these devoted old lovers who are living today. Now they are Mrs. Maggie Gillespie Slagle, Mrs. Laura Siler Slagle, Mrs. Maggie Stalcup Cunningham and Mrs. Andy Setser.

In 1932 this group of ladies...revived interest in the love story of Chah-chah and Cun-stay-gee and started a movement for the erection of a permanent marker above their graves. On July 30, 1932, a beautiful monument, hewn from the strong, gray-blue granite of Macon county, was unveiled with appropriate exercises.

And that's how the monument got there!

Lanman Meets Hog-Bite

Charles Lanman met many a hermit on his travels through America in the 19th century. When Lanman visited Macon County in May 1848, he crossed paths with a Sandtown Cherokee named Hog-Bite:

The most interesting character whom I have seen about Franklin is an old Cherokee Indian, His name is Sa-taw-ha, or Hog-Bite, and he is upwards of one hundred years of age. He lives in a small log hut among the mountains, the door of which is so very low that you have to crawl into it upon your hands and knees.

At the time the greater part of his nation were removed to the Far West, the "officers of justice" called to obtain his company. He saw them as they approached, and, taking his loaded rifle in hand, he warned them not to attempt to lay their hands upon him, for he would certainly kill them. He was found to be so resolute and so very old, that it was finally concluded by those in power that the old man should be left alone.

He lives the life of a hermit, and is chiefly supported by the charity of one or two Indian neighbors, though it is said he even now occasionally manages to kill a deer or turkey. His history is entirely unknown, and he says he can remember the time when the Cherokee nation lived upon the shores of a great ocean (the Atlantic) and the color of a white man's face was unknown.

Sandtown Protest

Twenty years after Charles Lanman's encounter with Hog-Bite, James Peckerwood earned a place in the history books that warrants mention. In July 1868 a treaty was ratified between the United States and the Cherokees residing west of the Mississippi River. The Congressional Record for January 1869 includes a “Memorial of Headmen and People of the North Carolina or Eastern Cherokees” protesting against the ratification of that treaty.

Essentially, those Eastern Cherokees objected to the treaty because they would not receive any payments from the government as had the members of the Cherokee Nation (Oklahoma). The signers of that petition were from various communities in Western North Carolina.

While many of them were from “Qualla,” others (like Jim Peckerwood) were from Sand Town. Others communities where small remnants of Cherokees remained in the late 1860s, were identified as Buffalo Town, Hewassee Town, Cheoah Town and Hangdog Town:

JOHN WAYNENA, chief, Buffalo Town

LONG BEAR, Sand Town

ALLEN BUTTER, Sand Town.

TRAMPER, Buffalo Town.

WM. MCLEMORE, Hewassee Town.

JOHN AXE, Hangdog Town.

SOWANOOKAH, Buffalo Town.

JAMES BLYTHE, Buffalo Town.

SKEEGEE, Bufi'alo Town.

JOHN ELIJAH, Qulla Town.

WILLSON AXE, Sand Town.

MINK, Buffalo Town.

KURSKEELESKEE, Qulla Town.

TAHQUAHTEEHEE, of Uheou Town.

LITTLE JOHN, Qulla Town.

ISAAC DAVIS Qulla Town.

JACKSON BLYTHE, Qulla Town.

BEN NEWTOWEE, Qulla Town.

JAMES PECKERWOOD, Sand Town.

OO-SOWEH, Qulla Town.

JOHNSON KATEGUH, Sand Town.

Margaret Siler Recounts Life in Sandtown


CHEROKEE LORE, by Margaret R. Siler, Article III, THE INDIAN LOVE CALL, Franklin Press, March 1, 1934

BETWEEN Muskrat Gap and-the Winding Stair nestles a small valley, protected on the East, North and West by sheltering mountains, and open only to the warm winds from the South. Rushing down from the mountain to the North, Muskrat brook curves around one side of the valley.

On the other side ripple the. clear waters of Cartoogechaye creek. Situated in this ideal spot was a Cherokee settlement, the last in Macon county, known to the white people as Sandtown, because, it is thought, the clay soil in that vicinity contained a portion of sand. This sheltered little valley must have been the home of old Chief Santeetla, whose threats failed to deter those young bloods, Siler and Britton, from settling on the banks of Cartoogechaye creek a few miles East.

The brave pioneer, Jacob Siler, remained to make fast friendship with the Cherokee tribes that peopled the region. Returning later to his home near what is now Asheville, he persuaded his brothers, William, Jesse and John, to come over the mountains with him and settle in this virgin country lavishly endowed by nature with beauty, food and noble trees from which to build homes.

The brothers erected dwellings within a mile or so of each other, William Siler choosing for his site a sheltered nook near the point where Wayah creek joins Cartoogechaye creek. For many, years he was the closest white neighbor of the Sandtown Indians It was here that Albert Siler, my father-in-law, grew up.

The first conversation I had with Albert Siler about his old neighbors made me realize how deeply he was attached to them. He said they were like trustful children and were always loyal to their friends.

The Cherokees, "Father" Siler told me, were easily moved, although they did not always show it. He related how as a young man he would visit Sandtown on Sunday afternoons and read lhe Bible to the Indians. Frequently, he said, when he raised his eyes he saw that the faces of his listeners were streaming with tears, although some of them could not understand a word he was reading to them.

Especially was this true in the cabin of Jim and Sallee Peckerwood, as they were known to their white friends. Their Cherokee names were Cha-cha Chuta-sotee and Cun-stay-gee Chuta-sottee. When the federal government rounded up the Cherokee and was marching them to the far West the Indians were beset with a scourge in Tennessee.

One night Cha-cha and Cun-stay-gee and some of the other Sandtown Indians escaped and fled back to their old homes. From time to time they were joined by others of their tribe, ragged, hungry and footsore after their escape from the caravan being prodded Westward across the Mississippi. William Siler was so moved by the plight of his old neighbors that he deeded back to them some of the land which they had been forced to leave under heart-breaking circumstances, that they might continue to live in the mountains they loved so well. The Indians were deeply grateful.

Chief Chuta-sottee loved William Siler with the devotion of an ardent Indian nature. When the latter died the bereaved Cherokee was his self-appointed chief mourner, following directly behind the hack which carried the body from the home on Cartoogechaye to the cemetery in Franklin. This was; a journey of eight miles and Chuta-sottee plodded through the mud, step by step, with his head solemnly bowed.

I was surprised when "Father" Siler told me there were class distinctions among the Indians. He said Cha-cha Chuta-sottee was an aristocrat and his wife, Sallee, or Cun-stay-gee, was a plebeian. Despite this difference in rank, however, they were a devoted couple. Sallee had strength for the long, weary trek back from Tennessee. Perhaps the hardships of that fearful journey helped to knit their hearts together more strongly. Who knows?

We can but conjecture concerning the courtship of the brave young couple, but their beautiful life was a thing of positive knowledge to many. After the dignified and courageous young Chuta-sottee led his straggling band back home they made him their chief. But although they were now living on their own land, deeded to them by William Siler, the threat of ejectment was not yet over.

In 1843 Major James Robinson (father of the James Robinson who became Lieutenant Governor of North Carolina) was appointed by the authorities in Washington to persuade the Cherokees still remaining East of the Mississippi to join their fellow-tribesmen in the West. On the day appointed Chief Chuta-sottee gathered his band together.

They listened respectfully while Major Robinson painted in glowing colors a picture of the Happy Hunting Grounds to which he wanted to take them. He made a forceful argument for emigration of the Cherokees; but when he had finished speaking Chief Chuta-sottee rose with the dignity of a king and, lifting his right hand majestically, replied with simple but convincing solemnity: "In sight of that mountain I have lived. In sight, of it I expect to die. My talk is ended."

Major Robinson knew well enough that the old Cherokee chief’s decision was absolutely final. No one ever again suggested that this loyal Cherokee leave his native home. His wish was granted that he might die in sight of the sloping, almost level-topped mountain between Muskrat Gap and the Winding Stair. His door, facing the West, caught the last rays of the golden sun as it slipped behind the mountain.

Here he lived his remaining days. “Father” Siler visited Chuta-sottee often during his last sickness and one day after reading him the Bible, the old chief said gently as he watched the last rays of the August sun light his doorway: "Al'ert, Jim going soon. Bury Jim like white man." Mr. Siler at once promised to bury him in the Siler family cemetery in the yard of little St. John's Episcopal chapel; at the foot of the same mountain where the chief lived.

The late Rev. J. A. Deal, who lived in Franklin forty-odd years, was the rector of St. John's and often made pastoral visits to Jim and Sallee Peckerwood. Jim told Mr. Deal of the request he had made of "Al'ert" Siler and Mr. Deal assured him the service would be all he could desire. A few days after this "Father" Siler again called on Jim, late one, afternoon.

As the sun sank behind the mountain the old chief, who was about 80 and who had witnessed so many heart-rending changes wrought by the white man in his paradise, said in a quiet voice: "That the last time Jim see the sun set over his mountain, Al'ert."

Early next morning one of Jim Peckerwood's sons, named Will Siler after my father-in-law's father, came and called "Al'ert" from his bed. Jim Peckerwood had died in the night (about 4 a.m. August 15, 1879.) He was buried the next morning in the little church yard of St. John's chapel with all the care and reverence that could be given the best citizen in the community, for Jim Peckerwood was held in high esteem by both white people and Cherokees for miles around. The little church yard was filled with his friends of both colors.

"Father" Siler said Jim and Sallee had lived together for more than 50 years and he felt so sorry for the Indian woman in her bereavement that he visited her late in the afternoon after the funeral. She was seated in the doorway, her head resting against the side and her face turned to the west. Her sad eyes, "Father" Siler said, seemed to pierce the setting sun and see beyond. He sat down beside her and said all the comforting things he could think of, but she only looked into the sun, seeming not to hear him.

Finally, she came out of her reverie and said gently: "Jim calling Sallee, Al'ert. Sallee go to Jim before another sun set." Very early the next morning Will Siler Peckerwood went to Albert Siler and told him, "Sallee gone to Jim." So, two days after Jim was laid away the same friends laid Sallee beside him and she, too, was buried with the Christian ritual of the white man.

“Father" Siler's daughter, Nettie, had the marble top of a dresser broken in two and placed at the heads of the graves of the faithful couple in the shadow of their loved mountains. But today a nobler monument rises above the graves of the last chief of the Sandtown Indians and his wife. There were four little girls at the funerals of these devoted old lovers who are living today. Now they are Mrs. Maggie Gillespie Slagle, Mrs. Laura Siler Slagle, Mrs. Maggie Stalcup Cunningham and Mrs. Andy Setser.

In 1932 this group of ladies, with the aid of The Franklin Press and Highlands Maconian, revived interest in the love story of Chah-chah and Cun-stay-gee and started a movement for the erection of a permanent marker above their graves. On July 30, 1932, a beautiful monument, hewn from the strong, gray-blue granite of Macon county, was unveiled with appropriate exercises.

Among those taking part in the exercises was Chief Bly from the Cherokee reservation in Swain county. After he had heard other speakers tell of Chief Chuta-sottee, he remarked with typical Indian brevity: "They say all good Indians are dead. This must have been a good Indian.”

Heart of the Cowees - A Wildflower Walk in May

Sunday afternoon, I crossed to the other side of the mountain for a quick wildflower ramble.  At an elevation of 3400' +/- and near the crest of the Cowees, the area abounds in spring wildflowers.  The site's unusual geology contributes to extraordinary plant diversity.  In Western NC, limestone outcrops are uncommon compared to the acidic bedrock underlying most of the region.  Higher calcium levels in the soil are optimal for species requiring less acidity.  The cast of characters is not the usual bunch.  For anyone attuned to the subtleties of plant communities, even just a little, it is like stepping into a different world.

Forgive the marginal quality of the photos, but I had limited time for this expedition.  It was shoot-and-run.  And dodge the rain!  From start to finish, in a span of 63 minutes, these are the species encountered, in the order I found them.  Regarding the annotations, in case anyone asks, it is  "folklore" and not medical advice.

Pink Lady's Slipper (Cypripedium acaule) Orchis family. 

Usually found near pines and that was the case for this one. I've been visiting this colony almost every year for the past decade, and it has stayed fairly constant in size.  From what  I saw, this was the last one in bloom.  Cypripedium does not reproduce or transplant well, so it must not be picked or dug.  The arrangement of the pouch-like bloom poses an obstacle for bumble-bees and other pollinators, and the flower doesn't provide nectar, so after pollinating a few flowers, the bees determine that the reward is not worth the effort.  Hence, pollination rates are relatively low.  And the seeds rely upon the the presence of specific soil fungi in order to thrive.  

Once called "American Valerian" for its sedative properties, it was used in the 19th century for nervous headaches, insomnia and hysteria.   Due to its scarcity, it should NOT be harvested for medicinal use.

False Hellebore (Veratrum viride)  Lily family. 

The species pictured here grows abundantly this time of year, but I've never succeeded in comfirming a proper ID.  Seeing a reference to false hellebore prior to my plant walk, I thought the mystery was over.  Now, I'm still not sure.  The leaves of Veratrum viride appear to be more deeply grooved or pleated than the leaves on this plant.  I've never managed to find it while in bloom, so that has stymied me.  I had always thought it to be a lily, and Veratrum viride is indeed in the lily family.  The leaves of the V. viride wither away before summer, so I need to keep close watch on it the next few weeks.  

If it is false hellebore, then it is a no-go medicinally.  In the past, alkaloids from the plant were extracted for use as a hypertensive, but this is nothing to play around with.  The leaves and roots are extremely toxic.  As the (questionable) legend goes, Native American braves would consume the plant and the ones who survived were considered sufficiently robust to become leaders. 

 

Wild Geranium, or, Crane's Bill (Geranium maculatum)  Geranium family. 

This is one of the most prevalent wildflowers in these parts during April and May.  The beak-like capsule at the flower is the reason it is called Crane's Bill, and the Greek word for crane, "geranos," is the origin of the genus name.  

The tannin-rich root has many uses: astringent and styptic, it has been used to stop bleeding and to treat diarrhea, dysentery, piles, gum disease, kidney and stomach problems.  It has been used externally as a cancer treatment.  The powdered root has been used to treat canker sores.

Foam Flower (Tiarella cordifolia) Saxifrage family.

This fairly common flower spreads by underground stems in shady areas. I often see it near the banks of brooks and streams and other moist places.  

Native Americans used a tea from the leaves as mouthwash and as a remedy for eye ailments.  Root tea was a diuretic. And it was used as a poultice on wounds.  Its tannic content is likely the reason for its effectiveness.

Black Cohosh, or, Black Snakeroot, or, Fairy Candle, among other common names (Actaea racemosa)  Buttercup family. 

The foliage and overall posture of the plant make it quite distinctive this time of year.  It will send up long , showy spikes of white flowers soon, which makes the designation "Fairy Candle" appropriate.  In my experience around here, this is more abundant than the Blue Cohosh (Caulophyllum thalictroides) and the two are not closely related.  

Research confirms that the plant has estrogenic, hypoglycemic, sedative and anti-inflammatory effects.  Tinctures have been used for bronchitis, fevers, lumbago, rheumatism, snakebite and menstrual difficulties.  There is a long history of using extracts from the rhizomes and roots for medicinal purposes.  Various saponins, cimifugic acids and other phenol carboxylic acids, are among the phytochemicals that make the plant extracts powerful and versatile remedies for many ailments.  At one time, the wild-harvested plants were important in the Southern Appalachian herbal industry, and some people are now growing the plants to supply demand for the roots.

Common Cinquefoil (Potentilla simplex) Rose family. 

I don't believe I have encountered this species as often as I have some of its close relatives, like Dwarf Cinquefoil (Potentilla canadensis), Sulphur Cinquefoil (Potentilla recta), Indian Strawberry (Duchesna indica), and Wild Strawberry (Fragaria virginiana).  

An astringent tea made from the roots has been used as a remedy for diarrhea.

Sweet Shrub, or, Carolina Allspice (Calycanthus floridus)  Calycanthus family.  

When I was growing up in the Piedmont, we had one small specimen of this plant and my father liked it a great deal.  I wonder if it reminded him of his trips to the mountains, where it grows quite well. Everytime I see the plant, I think of my dad, and share his fondness for the unusual blossoms and their spicy fragrance.  

Cherokees used a tea from the bark and roots as an emetic and diuretic, and as drops to restore failing eyesight.  However, the plant might be toxic to grazing cattle.

Pipevine, or, Dutchman's Pipe (Aristolochia macrophylla)  Birthwort family.

I took the picture just because I enjoyed the heart shaped leaves and didn't intend to include it on the list.  But on further review, it should be here, although I'm not 100% certain about the ID.  Pipevine is a common plant in natural communities like this one, but I've only seen the flowers once before, at Jones Gap (above the Cullasaja River) on May 1 several years ago.  It is worth making a special trip to see the odd flowers, which bear a slight resemblance to the reddish-brown flowers of Wild Ginger (a relative).  Scent attracts small flies and other insects to the flower, and once inside the "pipe" closes around them, the flower stops giving off a scent, pollen is released onto the insects, and a day or so later the pipe opens to free the trapped bugs.  

The plant has a connection to the Pipevine Swallowtail butterfly (Battus philenor) which, from my view, is the most common butterfly in these parts.  Many members of the genus Aristolochia are host plants for the larvae of Pipevine Swallowtails.  

Traditionally, the plant's compounds (aristolochic acids, among others) were deemed useful in child birth, hence the name "Birthwort" has been used for this and closely related plants.  The genus name is derived from Greek roots "aristos" meaning "best" and "lochia" meaning "child birth."  Other applications include the treatment of snake bite, gastrointestinal problems, respiratory problems, tumors, wounds, infectious diseases, and fever.  

Another species in the genus is a more potent source of medicinal compounds: Virginia Snakeroot (Aristolochia serpentaria).  And now we are getting close to the origins of the derisive term "snakeoil salesman."  An extract of the Southwestern Pipevine (Aristolochia watsonii) was the main ingredient in the oil sold by traveling “snakeroot doctors” at medicine shows in the Old West during the 19th century.  And we've all seen those cagey codgers in our favorite Westerns.  

Umbrella Leaf (Podophyllum cymosum, formerly Diphylleia cymosum) Burberry family. 

This plant, with leaves up to about one foot across, is not very common.  These were growing in a low space, down a bank, next to a trickle of water.  And that describes the habitat where I last saw this species, a few years ago, on the Blue Ridge Parkway, near Waterrock Knob. The white blooms on these plants were almost spent, and soon we'll see the fruits (shiny blue berries on stems that will turn red).  Another member of the genus is the Mayapple (Podophyllum peltatum), and there are some vigorous patches of that plant nearby.  The natural range of Umbrella Leaf is limited to the Southern Appalachians - it prefers elevations of 3000-5000', but I see that the state extension service recommends the species for home landscapes, if conditions are suitable.  

The Cherokees used a root tea to induce sweating.  It is also considered diuretic and antiseptic.  However, toxicity is a concern with this plant.  Extracts from closely related Chinese plants and from the Mayapple have been used as cancer treatments.  But, to repeat, toxicity is a concern with these plants. 

 

Mountain Bugbane (Cimicifuga americana) Buttercup family.  

Here is another "maybe.'  A couple of minutes earlier, I had seen (what I assume to be) Black Cohosh, and I thought this was another one.  But on looking at the photos, I'm inclined to think this is a different plant, due to subtle differences in the leaves.  Black Cohosh and Mountain Bugbane are quite similar, and when they bloom it will be much easier to confirm my initial IDs.  The flower parts of the two species are distinctly different, if you know what to look for.  The quick trick is to smell the flowers.  Black Cohosh has a very strong odor to attract Carrion Beetles for pollination.  Mountain Bugbane lacks that powerful aroma.

Allegheny Mountain Buttercup (Ranunculus allegheniensis)  Buttercup family.  

It is wishful thinking on my part to list this rare Allegheny Mountain Buttercup, but you can't fault a guy for hoping. The fact is, I'm not sure about the species on this one.  I need to revisit the plant for a closer look and do some more research. It may very well be a Tall Buttercup (R. acris) but I need to see the basal leaves again.  

Medicinally, the fresh leaves and poulticed roots have been used to treat neuralgia, boils and absesses.  But the plant is extremely acrid and will damage tender mucosa. Wild animals that nibble the plant promptly learn their lesson and avoid it.

Rue Anemone (Thalictrum thalictroids)...or is it Early Meadowrue (Thalictrum dioicum)...no,no, it is Brook Meadowrue (Thalictrum clavatum) Buttercup family.  

I reflexively thought, "rue anemone" as soon as I saw the leaves of this plants.  But the more I examined it, the less convinced I was.  The plants and leaves are larger than I recall and the growth habit is different, this is more of a spreading clump with flowers above the leafy mass.  

[I'm revisiting these notes after further study.  Looking at the photo, I began to think that I had two different flowers here, the foliage of some type of rue, and then seperate white flowers growing up  through the rue foliage.  But, no, it is all one plant after all and quite clearly Brook Meadowrue, aka Cliff Meadowrue, aka Lady Rue.  The flowers lack petals - the showy white parts are sepals and the seeds are shaped like crescent moons.  This plant has a very limited range, from Virginia to north Georgia, and is usually found near seepage slopes, wet cliffs and the banks of brooks.]  

The genus name, Thalictrum, comes from the Greek word describing a plant with divided leaves.  "Dioicum" means "two houses" and refers to the fact that male and female flowers grow on separate plants.  The story goes that Native Americans would stealthily sprinkle Thalictrum seeds into the food of quarreling couples to facilitate their reconciliation.  

Medically, the sap of the plant has been used to burn corns off the feet.  And native people prepared root tea to treat diarrhea.  But the plant is considered toxic.

Sharp-lobed Hepatica, Liverwort (Hepatica acutiloba) Buttercup family.  

Hepatica is one of the early spring bloomers, in flower perhaps six weeks ago, alongside Spring Beauty, Toothwort, Star Chickweed, Bloodroot and other spring ephemerals.  The foliage remains and is one of my favorites to see at any time in its life cycle.  

Hepatica is often cited in discussions of the ancient "Doctrine of Signatures" which hypothesized that a plant's resemblance to a body part was a sign that it could be used to treat diseases of that organ.  Hepatica, with lobed, liver-colored leaves, resembled a liver and was used to treat liver problems.  A century ago, vast amounts of hepatica leaves were harvested for the commercial production of liver tonics.

Speckled Wood Lily, or, White Clintonia (Clintonia umbellulata)  Lily family.  

Henry David Thoreau complained that this plant genus had been named for a New York politician who lost a bid for the Presidency.  No, not HER, but DeWitt Clinton (1769-1828), an early governor of the state.  The delicate white flowers give way to shiny black berries.  

The leaves, with a cucumber-like flavor, are edible: raw when young and cooked when older.

Halberdleaf Yellow Violet (Viola hastata) Violet family.  

This is a violet with a yellow flower, but even when the flowers fade, the foliage is pleasing to the eye.  The distinctive shape of the leaf is thought to resemble the halberd, a battle-ax from the 15th and 16th centuries.  In folklore, the violet symbolizes simplicity and modesty.  

Compounds from some of the violets have been used to treat skin cancers.

Smooth Solomon's Seal (Polygonatum biflorum) Lily family.  

The flowers of this plant are arranged  all along the stem, underneath the leaves.  The white, bell-shaped flowers give way to round fruit that hang from the plant through the summer.  Almost invariably, if I encounter one of these Solomon's Seals, I will find a False Solomon's Seal nearby.  That happened again on this walk. It is easy to distinguish False Solomon's Seal, as its flowers or berries are NOT suspended along the length of the plant, but in a cluster at the tip of the stem. 

Polygonatum biflorum root tea is used to treat arthritis, indigestion, and lung ailments, and as a laxative.

False Solomon's Seal (Smilacina racemosa, aka, Maianthemum racemosum) Lily family. 

At first glance, this plant looks do different from Smooth Solomon's Seal.  They are easy to distinguish, though.  Clusters of tiny flowers are found at the tip of the False Solomon's Seal plant, and the berries develop there.  

Native Americans used the plant for some of the same purposes as P. biflorum.

Maidenhair Fern (Adiantum pedatum)  

Of course, it isn't a flowering plant, but it is not to be ignored.  The black stipes and curved form are elegant.  The name "maidenhair" actually designates the genus, and there are about 250 species of Maidenhair Ferns worldwide within the genus. The genus name is derived from a Greek word meaning "unwetted," as the fronds can shed water without becoming wet.  

This fern is said to be useful for bronchitis, coughs, menstrual difficulties.

Golden Alexander (Zizia spp.)...or is it Meadow-Parsnip (Thaspium spp.) Parsley family.  

I still have work to do on this one.  I had no clue about this when I saw it.  In my haste to avoid an impending shower (I wound up getting soaked anyhow, but it was well worth it) I did not take more pictures and gather enough information.  For one thing, the basal leaves are important for identification of species of these plants.  (It is good practice to note that in any case, as the basal leaves might be quite different from leaves higher on the stem.  The form of the umbel is noteworthy.  For the classic umbel form, think Queen-Anne's Lace, which has a cluster of flowers with a flat top.  By contrast, the flowers in this specimen radiate out in all directions.  The experts do offer one tip for distinguishing Zizia from Thaspium: "In Zizia, the central floret of each umbel is sessile (IS NOT stalked) and in Thaspium the central floret IS stalked."  From my photo, it is hard to tell what I have, and so a return visit will be necessary.  [After checking again, it seems the central floret IS stalked, which would mean this is a Meadow-Parsnip, but I'm still uncertain about the species.]

In folk traditions, these plants had many uses, such as treatment of fever, wound care and inducing sleep.  Again, there's high risk of toxicity, when used improperly.

Woodland Bluet (Houstonia purpurea) Madder family.  

I found this solitary bluet on the path.  Most people, I'm guessing, are more familiar with the shorter Common Bluet (Houstonia caerulea) which can create little carpets of blue near the overlooks on the Blue Ridge Parkway and other sites that are mowed.  Those bluets are short enough to avoid the cutting blade.  Woodland Bluets are twice as tall and have clusters of flowers, instead of just one bloom at the top of each stem.  With either plant, the individual blooms are tiny.  If one examines the Woodland Bluet more closely, he might notice that the individual flowers in the cluster are not all the same.  Some have short stamens and long pistils, others are just the opposite, an arrangement that enhances pollination.  

Cherokees used a leaf tea to prevent bed-wetting.

Common Alumroot, aka, American Sanicle (Heuchera americana) Saxifrage family.  

For whatever reason, I know it as "Coral Bells" but that name is better applied to some related cultivars that are showy landscape plants in the home garden.  

The root of Alumroot is a strong astringent, and a tea of the leaves has been used for diarrhea, dysentery, piles, and as a gargle for sore throat.  

Wood Sorrel (Oxalis montana) Wood-sorrel family.  

I'm certain about the genus, but not rock-solid convinced about the species, the reason being that the plants are so much larger than the Wood Sorrels I've seen in the past.  The sour taste of the shamrock-like leaves is the same, though.  If it is Wood Sorrel, then it should be blooming soon with flowers reminiscent of the delicately candy-striped Spring Beauty (Claytonia caroliniana) and what a lovely site that will be!  

"Sorrel" is German for "sour."  The plant is a nice addition to salads and has been a treatment for scurvy, thanks to its high Vitamin C content.  Consuming too much oxalic acid, from this or other plants, can inhibit the absorption of calcium in the body.

Vasey's Trillium (Trillium vaseyi) Lily family.  

My flower walk was an out-and-back.  I wandered for a little more than a half-mile before it was time to turn around.  And at that point I wondered what I would discover on the return trip that I had missed on first pass.  It happens.  And this flower was an easy one to miss.  Some trilliums display their blooms above the trio of leaves. Others, like the Vasey's, conceal the flower underneath the leaves.  The deep maroon color of the blossom blends into the shadows, too.  I'm so glad I saw it, because it is the largest of trilliums, and the latest to bloom.  Unlike some foul-smelling trilliums, Vasey's is pleasantly fragrant.  And while most plants in the lily family possess leaves with parallel veins, trilliums have net-veined leaves.  I had some recollection of trillium reproduction involving ants and a seven-year wait and found the story once again.  Heather McCargo details this on the Wild Seed Project website:

Six to eight weeks after the plant blooms, the seedpod ripens by suddenly softening and falling off the plant. Ants immediately carry the seeds back to their nest, eat the nutritious, fleshy white protrusion attached to the shiny, dark-brown seeds, and discard the seeds. If conditions are good (trillium likes a humus-y woodland soil with adequate moisture and shade), the seed will lie dormant and germinate after the second spring (yes, nearly two years later). At age 7, it may have its first bloom. A mature trillium plant with multiple blooming stems can be decades old. So if you see a trillium plant for sale in a nursery with pricing similar to other perennials, you can be pretty sure it was not nursery-propagated. Ask the nursery – if they cannot tell you how it was propagated, assume it was dug up in the wild. Let them know that this is unacceptable. 

https://wildseedproject.net/2015/06/where-the-wild-things-are-pink-lady-slipper-orchids-and-poachers/

Indian Cucumber Root (Medeola virginiana) Lily family.  

The genus name is a nod to Medea, a sorceress in Greek mythology.  This is always a fun plant to see, thanks to the whorls of leaves radiating out from the stem.  The ends of leaves nearest the stem, on the upper whorl, will take on a red color very soon.  

Happily, I don't need to attach a toxicity warning to this one.  The rhizome of the plant is crisp and juicy.  You can eat it raw or pickled.  I say this although I've never foraged one, preferring to leave them undisturbed.  Besides its use as a salad ingredient, Native Americans would chew the root and the spit the paste onto a hook to attract fish, and a tea from the root has been used as an anticonvulsant and as a diuretic for dropsy, which is quaint word once used for what we call "edema" or fluid build-up in the body.  

Nice to learn the real meaning of "dropsy."  When I was a kid, and an item would slip from someone's hand and hit the floor, they were liable to quip, "Oops, I've got dropsy."

That's it for notes from a Sunday afternoon wildflower stroll.  Grateful I am to reside in the midst of one of the paramount "botany schools" on the planet.  That, in part, is what makes the Cowees the Cowees.