This entry features articles from 1854, 1855, and 1857 editions of Cherokee Rose Buds, the newspaper published by the Cherokee National Female Seminary. The paper was printed partly in Cherokee and partly in English. Cherokee Rose Buds was devoted to “the Good, the Beautiful and the True.” Catharine Gunter and Nancy E. Hicks were the coeditors.

[The following three pieces are from the August 2, 1854, issue. The poem was credited to “Corrinne,” the second piece to “Na-Li,” and the third to “Edith.”]

We offer you a wreath of flowers

Culled in recreation’s hours,

Which will not wither, droop, or die,

Even when days and months pass by.

Ask you where these flowers are found?

Not on sunny slope, or mound;

Not on prairies bright and fair

Growing without thought or care.

No, our simple wreath is twined

From the garden of the mind;

Where bright thoughts like rivers flow

And ideas like roses grow.

The tiny buds which here you see

Ask your kindly sympathy;

View them with a lenient eye,

Pass each fault, each blemish by.

Warmed by the sunshine of your eyes,

Perhaps you’ll find to your surprise,

Their petals fair will soon unclose,

And every bud becomes—a Rose.

Then take our wreath, and let it stand

An emblem of our happy band;

The Seminary, our garden fair;

And we, the flowers planted there.

Like roses bright we hope to grow,

And o’er our home such beauty throw

In future years—that all may see

Loveliest of lands,—the Cherokee.

It is sometime said that our Seminaries were made only for the rich and those who were not full Cherokee, but it is a mistake. I thought I would address a few lines to the other class in the Nation. My beloved parents were full Cherokees. They belonged to the common class; and, yet, they loved their children as well [as] the rich; but they had never attended school, and therefore did not know the value of learning; and probably would never [have] made provision for me to attend school. But those beloved parents have been called from this world and left me a lonely orphan. I was very young and have but a faint remembrance of my mother’s long and wearisome sickness of the consumption. At the time of my mother’s death, a kind missionary teacher came and took me under her care. Under the influence and teaching of the missionaries, I was prepared to enter this institution. I should not have said so much about myself; but I feel that a great many of the full Cherokees can have the benefit of the Seminary as well as I. Our Chief and directors would like very much that they should come and enjoy these same privileges as those that are here present, and the teachers would take as much pains in instructing you. I feel it is no disgrace to be a full Cherokee. My dark complexion does not prevent me from acquiring knowledge and of being useful hereafter.

I write this, hoping that it will persuade you to attend school and thus prepare to enter this Institution. We will give you a hearty welcome. You can be instructed in Mathematics, History and studies of various characters for the improvement of our minds and though we may not see their use of the present, we will in years to come. I am much interested in the studies that [are] set before me. But a year and a half will soon pass away and then I am to go out into the Nation and endeavor to be useful; and, although I sometimes think I cannot be, yet I am resolved to try.

Once more I urge you to attend some Public School; be studious and persevering, and then after awhile you will probably be well prepared to enter our institution. If you should not succeed the first time, “try, try again.”

Our Seminary commands a most delightful and varied prospect of the surrounding country. On the north, stretching away as far as the eye can reach is a wood: and though within the few years past many demands have been made upon its wealth of noble trees, yet for years to come will an inexhaustible number continue to lift their lofty tops proudly to the blue sky in defiance of the devastating stroke of the woodman’s axe.

This wood is one of our favorite resorts in the Spring and Summer days, where, when school duties are finished, we often wander, a merry troop, over hill and dale in search of the woodland flowers and delicious berries. Then, laden with our treasures we set out homeward as the loud tones of the Seminary bell warn us to hasten on that we may be in time for Supper, which is relished with a much keener appetite after the exercise in the fresh open air.

But the most picturesque part of the scenery is the prairie encompassed on the south by a range of green hills rising one above another, the most noted of which is Park Hill, elevated into a peak several hundred feet above the level of the ground. From its summit a much wider view is presented: the prairie extends in from and on either side; its surface [marked] by gently rising hills and sloping valleys and covered over with flowers of every hue. Scattered in all directions are green fields, meadows and groves; and peeping from among the trees of the latter, instead of the rudely constructed wigwams of our forefathers which stood there not more than half a century ago, elegant white dwellings are seen. Everything around denotes taste, refinement and the progress of civilization among our people: well may they vie with the long enlightened inhabitants of the east.

One of the most handsome and beautifully situated of these dwellings is the residence of our Chief and his white bride, who left her native land and friends a few years since to come and dwell with him in his wild prairie home among his own tribe, the Cherokees.¹

[The following two articles are from the August 1, 1855, issue. The first was credited to “Isabelle” and the second to “Alice.”]

I arose one beautiful morning with a determination to spend one day of my life as I ought. The first thing was to be kind to my school-mates and all around me. I felt that I could not keep my resolution unless I asked help from above. I succeeded very well until after breakfast. Then the little trials began to creep up before me as usual. There seemed to be more that day than ever before. Perhaps it was because I was trying so hard not to give way to my temper. After breakfast I went up to my room, and as it was almost school-time, I began to look for my books, but could not find them. I got vexed, and, before I was aware, spoke unkind words to my room-mates. Very soon the school bell rang, and it was time to recite. I knew nothing about my lesson. I sat trembling for fear a question should come to me. Pretty soon I saw the Teacher’s eyes turn towards me. I felt that the next question was mine. Sure enough, it was. Oh dear! What could I say? I was mum. Failure was my portion that morning. I felt sad enough, but went to my kind teacher and explained the whole matter to her, and asked her to excuse me for that time, to which she consented, and spoke a few words of encouragement to me, which cheered me not a little. Everything seemed to be set right, and all things moved on smoothly for two or three hours. I began to think that it was not so very hard to keep my resolution. I had almost forgotten it, however, for when someone came along and asked me to do something for her, which I was not willing to do, and refused, she became vexed, and I, too; but the resolution of the morning arose before my mind and I tried to control myself, but found it not very easy work to do to others as I would have them do to me. Yes, and by the close of the day, I found that this beautiful world of ours was just as full of little trials as it can hold. We should, therefore, be very watchful every day and hour, lest we be led by our own evil propensities into wrong and forbidden paths.

In creating the world, God made everything that could contribute to the happiness of his creatures. Over all he threw the mantle of beauty to please the eye.

On every side, are lofty hills and mountains; fertile valleys and spreading prairies covered with their thousand flowers. Here and there, thick forests meet the gaze; the little rippling brooks go singing by, and noble rivers roll on to the mighty ocean. These are beauties of nature.

But man, himself, in physical beauty, excels in the works of God. What more admirable than the noble form “erect in God-like majesty,” or the more perfect gracefulness of woman? The blushing smiles that play upon the rosy cheek, the silken hair falling luxuriously over the shoulders, the sparkling eye;—these are all lovely and call forth many a word of praise.

But there is a beauty which exists within, worth more than all these outward ornaments and it often appears where they are wanting. It is the beauty of the intellect; the reflection of a mind which has gathered knowledge by its piercing glance from all the glorious creations that surround us. It has soared to the shining worlds which fill the universe and [bring] down wisdom; it has communed with the great intellects of earth until all that is lovely in mind and matter is stamped upon it.

But there is a higher beauty still,—before which physical, and even intellectual beauty grow dim. It is found where right feelings and principles are cherished in the heart. Like flowers, the more they are cultivated the more beautiful they become, and if watered by dews from the Fountain of Life, they will spread the radiance of Moral Beauty over the soul. Physical beauty may pass away, and intellectual beauty decay; but moral beauty will never fade; it will only appear brighter when transplanted from Earth to the gardens of Heaven.²

[The Cherokee National Female Seminary had to close at the end of the academic year in 1856, effective in 1857, because of lack of funds. It reopened briefly in 1861, then soon closed until the 1870s. The following article appeared in the February 11, 1857, issue of Cherokee Rose Buds. The author expresses her sadness at the school’s closing.]

Once more with trembling hands we have twined a wreath of Rose Buds for our friends, which we trust will not suffer in comparison with former attempts, though far from being all that we could wish it.

May it meet your sympathies; your kindly words, for it is the last bright garland we shall weave.

It is an event of sadness to us all who have so long been the recipients of our Nation’s bounty. Yet we cannot but hope, that ere many months have passed, the dark cloud will be dispelled and our Seminary be permitted again to enjoy the sunshine of prosperity.

Our term has passed rapidly and quietly away. In the first few weeks during the meeting of the Council, there was much of restlessness and anxiety to know our fate, but since the question was decided, every moment has been precious.³

ENDNOTES

¹ “Our Wreath of Rose Buds,” in Cherokee Rose Buds, from The Youth’s Companion, Sept. 7, 1854, 80.

² A Wreath of Cherokee Rose Buds, Female Seminary, Cherokee Nation, vol. 2, no. 1, Wed., Aug. 1, 1855.

³ A Wreath of Cherokee Rose Buds, Female Seminary, Cherokee Nation, vol. 3, no. 2, Wed., Feb. 11, 1857. For details about the closing and reopening of the school, see Mihesuah, Cultivating the Rosebuds, 44–50.