“Dell” is a delightful, evocative word.
Forget Dell, Inc., the perpetually-struggling computer company. I mean a “dell” — a place — a secluded spot in a verdant forest somewhere.
A dell is a small hollow or a hidden valley, typically lush and green. The word comes from the High German telle (ravine) and the Old English dael (valley). It implies peace, seclusion, green things.
About an hour north of where I live, in the extreme northeast corner of Georgia, is a dell that fits the classic description better than any place I know.
“Warwoman Dell” — what a wonderful name — is a Forest Service Recreation Area in the mountains a few miles east of Clayton, located where a small creek, Becky Branch, crosses Warwoman Road. The place features picnic shelters amid the trillium, mountain laurel, and wild azaleas under a canopy of hardwoods.
In addition to the picnic area, the dell has a loop trail that passes a small waterfall on Becky Branch. Plaques along the way describe the flora and history of the place.
For a modest, out-of-the-way spot, quite a bit is going on there. Allow me to elaborate.
Warwoman Dell Recreation Area was built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps. The crew of 129 CCC workers lived nearby at Camp Warwoman, which they constructed themselves.
Working for $1 per day plus food and shelter, they built the road into the dell, the shelters and fireplaces, and a fish hatchery that raised speckled trout to stock the local rivers and streams.
But Warwoman Dell had plenty of history before the CCC boys arrived. Also passing through the spot is the Bartram Trail, which follows the route in the late 1700s of naturalist William Bartram, a journey he meticulously documented in “Bartram’s Travels.”
Actually, the formal title of Bartram’s book is Travels Through North & South Carolina, Georgia, East & West Florida, the Cherokee Country, the Extensive Territories of the Muscogulges, or Creek Confederacy, and the Country of the Choctaws: Containing an Account of the Soil and Natural Productions of Those Regions, Together with Observations on the Manners of the Indians. Embellished With Copper Plates.
Bartram, a young botanist from Philadelphia, left Charleston in 1773 and spent four years exploring the Southeast, mostly to study the flora of the region.
Alone and unarmed, he traveled through wilderness areas where both the Indians and the white settlers inevitably were friendly and helpful. He rarely faced serious danger.
Being out of touch during his travels, he was unaware that the American colonies had rebelled against England.
Warwoman Dell also marks the westernmost point reached in the 1850s by the Blue Ridge Railroad, which was being built to haul coal from Cincinnati to Knoxville to Charleston.
The railroad was completed and in use from Charleston west to the edge of the mountains. From there, right-of-way was cleared to Warwoman Dell. But as the Civil War loomed, the company went broke. The project was abandoned in 1858.
In the 1890s, entrepreneurs resurrected the project as the Black Diamond Railroad. They tried valiantly to round up investors to finish the right-of-way west through the mountains, but failed.
The project left behind a series of unfinished mountain tunnels, including one a few miles east of Warwoman Dell. Both ends were destroyed long ago by landslides and highway construction.
Today, the railroad right-of-way serves as a walking path through Warwoman Dell.
A section of the abandoned railroad bed.
Also, if you look, you’ll see a series of sturdy, hand-made granite culverts beneath the right-of-way. They’ve been providing reliable drainage for the unused railroad bed for 160 years.
A culvert beneath the abandoned right-of-way. Note the light marking the far side of the roadbed.
Okay, so Warwoman Dell is beautiful and historic, and the “dell” part of the name is clear enough. But where did “Warwoman” come from? Historians can’t agree.
Some attribute the name “Warwoman” to Nancy Ward (1738-1822), a prominent and respected Cherokee leader. Others credit Nancy Hart (1735-1830), a frontier woman, patriot, and occasional spy who lived in the Georgia mountains during the American Revolution.
Their stories are fascinating.
Nancy Ward, Cherokee
By long tradition, the Cherokee Nation is a matriarchal society. In the years before the Europeans arrived and turned the world of the Cherokees upside down, most questions of justice and war were decided by women.
A council of women meted out punishment for offenses within the tribe, chose the War Chief, and determined the fate of captives.
The Cherokee called the leader of the women’s council Tsi-ge-yu, which means Beloved Woman or Pretty Woman. To the early white settlers, she was the War Woman.
The last and best known War Woman of the Cherokee Nation was Nanyehi, known today as Nancy Ward. (Note the similarity between Nanyehi and Nancy.)
Ward rose to prominence in a battle with the Creeks, during which her husband was killed and she stepped forward to lead the Cherokee to victory.
But she believed in peaceful coexistence with the Europeans. She served as the tribe’s ambassador to the early settlers and made sure relations were peaceful. She also helped the tribe transition from hunting to farming and raising cattle.
Because of these societal changes, the Cherokee left behind many of the old ways. Soon, a new style of governance emerged that had no place for a War Woman.
Eventually, Nanyehi moved west to the mountains east of Chattanooga. She married a settler, Bryan Ward, had a daughter, and operated an inn on the banks of the Ocoee River until her death at age 84.
Nanyehi, the last Cherokee War Woman.
Nancy Hart, Patriot
Nancy Ann Morgan Hart is a bona fide Georgia legend. Hart County is named for her. So is the city of Hartwell. So are Lake Hartwell, Hartwell Dam, Hart State Park, and the Nancy Hart Highway.
During the Civil War, a group of women in LaGrange, south of Atlanta, formed a militia company called the Nancy Harts to defend the town from Union troops.
Nancy Hart was said to be six feet tall, well-muscled, red-haired, and cross-eyed, with a face scarred by smallpox. She was hot-headed, fearless, a skilled hunter, and, despite being cross-eyed, a crack shot.
Although no real evidence of her supposed exploits exists, stories about Nancy Hart abound.
During the Revolutionary War, the colonists were sharply divided between supporters of independence and those who remained loyal to the British Crown. Nancy Hart fiercely supported independence.
While Hart’s husband was away fighting in the Georgia militia, she was left alone on the family farm in Elbert County with her eight children.
Always anxious to help the cause, she sometimes slipped away, disguised herself as a man, and quietly visited British garrisons to gather information.
As word spread about Hart, area Loyalists began to keep watch on her cabin. In one famous story, a British Loyalist crept up to the house and peeked in through a crack. One of Hart’s daughters saw the peeking eye and quietly informed her mother.
Hart, who was making soap at the fireplace, flung a ladle of boiling water through the crack, badly scalding the Loyalist. She tied him up and delivered him to the local militia.
On another alleged occasion, six Loyalists came to the cabin, shot Hart’s prize turkey, and forced her to cook it for them. While they ate, she grabbed their weapons, shot two of them, and held the rest captive.
When her husband and others arrived, the Loyalists were hanged, at Nancy’s insistence, from a nearby tree.
Later in her life, Hart reportedly found religion. Georgia Governor George Gilmer wrote that Hart “became a shouting Christian” who “fought the Devil as manfully as she fought the Tories.”
In 1803, Hart, then a widow, moved to Kentucky with her son John. She spent the rest of her life there, living quietly among relatives.
Nancy Hart gets the drop on the Loyalists.
Other Stories
Other tales have surfaced that also claim to explain the origin of “Warwoman.”
— A Cherokee woman named Cateechee killed a settler during a raid and was made a War Woman by the tribe.
— A young female colonist whose baby was stolen by three Indians sneaked into their camp as they slept, killed all three with a tomahawk, and took her baby home. Thereafter, she was called Warwoman by her neighbors.
— In a similar tale, two women colonists who lived near Clayton were abducted by Indians. During the night, they freed themselves, killed the sleeping Indians, and escaped. Warwoman Creek (and subsequently Warwoman Road, etc.) is named after them.
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Most likely, the true origin of “Warwoman” will never be known, but that’s okay. Any one of the explanations will do, and a bit of mystery is a good thing.
It makes me want to drive up to Warwoman Dell — what a wonderful name — for a restorative day of peace and seclusion.
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