Lady Duffus Hardy

“ Is there a tree, I wonder, more beautiful than the orange, with its shining foliage of dark and glossy green, its scented snow of blossoms, its red-gold globes of fruit! Here in St. Augustine, although too late in the season for the fullest beauty of the groves—the gathering being almost over—we still found here and there the flower and the fruit growing amicably together on sister boughs. We came upon one glorious tree, its graceful branches bending under the rich burthen of its fruit of fiery gold, glowing in that southern sunshine. ”

“ We thoroughly enjoy the novelty of the scenery, so different from that we have already passed through. We feel we are on the threshold of a tropical land, and wait eagerly for its wonder to unfold itself; the change is so subtle and silent we cannot tell where it began; we feel it in the very air we breathe, even the sunshine seems to fall from a different part of the heavens, and to bring with it a kind of perfumed warmth with its glorious light. Then we cross wide tracts of barren sand dunes—rich red sand—with here and there a stunted growth of green ”

“ Then the shores widen out, and the marshy land is covered with broad-bladed grass; the wild savannahs and forests are driven back, and a lofty pine stands solitary in a lonely place like an advance-guard thrown out from an army of green. Again we are plunged in a tangled wilderness where cypress, pine, and palm, swarm down upon us and again line the banks of the river, and multitudes of strange forms dazzle our eyes and bewilder our imagination. It is growing dusky, and wild weird shapes float out of the depths and fill our minds with strange fancies. ”

“ By the time we reach the upper deck the tender has departed, the anchor is up, and—are we moving? We seem to be still stationary, but the shores of England are receding from us, the long, curving lines of the shore growing dim and more dim, the forest of shipping with its tall masts and fluttering sails fades slowly from our sight, and as the twilight closes in we are almost out of sight of land; it vanishes away till it looks like a bank of low-lying clouds fringing the horizon; now and then a white sail flashes out of the darkness and is gone. ”

“ Now that the curse of slavery, the inherited evil—not their crime, but their misfortune—has been torn out of the fair land, at the root of whose seeming prosperity it lay coiled like a canker worm—now that the blot is effaced, washed away in the life blood of the best and bravest of the North and South—their undaunted spirits are united in one grand effort to lift up their beautiful land till it shall stand in the foremost rank among many nations. ”

“ In silent majesty the grand old forest is gliding past us with muffled steps and hidden features—a shrouded army, marching through the silent night. Then, again, our pine fire lights up the skies, and illuminates{201} the surrounding scenery with flashes of red and green and blue and yellow; then all commingling fade into one white glare; frightened birds are scared from their secret nests, and flutter, with melancholy cries, for a second above our heads, and then are swallowed up in the darkness. ”

“ Now it is awake, it has unsealed its eyes, shaken off the luxurious flowery chain that has held it like links of iron, stretched its limbs, and, as a sleeping army springs to life at the sound of the trumpet, it is up and doing; developing its marvellous resources on the earth and under the earth, building factories, opening mines, and utilising its wonderful water power—forcing the quiet river out of its accustomed way, lashing it till, after much foaming, flashing, and groaning, it grinds the corn, crushes the rough ore, and labours at the world’s work like a sentient being. ”

“ The sunlight keeps the foul fiend down, hidden away beneath the rich, rank luxuriance that delights the eye with its tangled brilliance; but so soon as the sun goes down it rises, an invisible ghost, and mingles subtly with the air we breathe, and attacks us from our weakest points. Therefore we arm ourselves against it, and drench ourselves with antidotes, inside and out. One gentleman, whose sole object in life seems to be the nursing of his own infirmities, appears like a wild Indian clothed in his cabin blankets, with his nose buried in a huge bottle of camphorated spirits. ”

“ Here, in Richmond, those names are household words, and every day we hear fresh anecdotes of their lives and deaths. But the South does not waste its time in lamenting over their graves; there is no greater mistake than to imagine that it is frittering away its energies in vain regrets. The past is past, the dead are buried; and on the ruins of the old life the South is building up a new—in fact, it is recreating itself. New railways opening, great factories arising on every side, bear witness to the energy with which the South is throwing itself into the work of restoration. ”

“ While we are carrying out our small human lives, taxing our intellect, our imagination and our skill to build up vast edifices{39} of brick and stone on this outer earth, which in a few short years must crumble away, an unknown and invisible world is being slowly perfected beneath our feet—a world not made by hands—every touch and tint the work of a passing age; silently and slowly the viewless workers labour on, under the land and under the sea, while cycles and ages pass! ”

“ We feel as though we had stood on the outermost edge and caught a glimpse of the wonder-land where nature is working her will in silence and darkness.
Some of the most picturesque and sublime scenery of the South may be found in the regions of Western Virginia, where nature in her wildest mood holds sovereign sway among her everlasting hills, clothed with majestic woods running down to the narrow valleys and winding lands which intersect the mountains. Here in these solitudes, scattered through these lonely regions, live a primitive people, leading a primitive life. ”

“ How the vexed and troubled folk, who wander here to get away from the busy, noisy world, must long to creep down under the roses and hide from this world’s noisy strife, and lie beside the sleeper under the sod, with hands crossed, eyes closed, at rest for ever more. Here is a grave covered with “forget-me-nots,” and a cry—a hard, cold cry—written in stone, craving to be “kept green in men’s memories;” as though the dead could hope to be remembered, when we who are living have to lift up our voices and struggle to the front that we may not be forgotten even while we live! ”

“ This is a delightful promenade and pleasure ground, where the good Charlestonians from time immemorial have come for their evening stroll, or to sit under the leafy shade of the scrub-oaks, gossiping with their neighbours. The Battery grounds front the land-locked bay—a sheet of crystal water about three miles wide—around which, and on the opposite side, lies a perfect garland of softly-swelling green islands, which stretch far away out of our sight. On each side, running like arms from the bay, are the Ashley and Cooper rivers, holding the town in their watery embrace. ”

“ It is like an old-fashioned beauty who has been lying in state through these long years, pranked in all her finery of feathers, furbelows, paint, powder, and patches, and now wakes up and walks and talks with us in the quaint stilted phraseology of old days. Never was change of time and place so sudden, so strangely felt, as the transition from brilliant Jacksonville and pretty pleasant Fernandina to this quiet, quaint old-world city, wherein the dignity and simple grace of the Spanish cavaliers who first conquered, settled and peopled it, seems still to linger ”

“ There a rapid river runs in and out, amid a paradise{266} of green; then a sheet of silver water, or placid lake, calm as an infant’s sleep, dimples in the light of the sun; and wild wildernesses lie nestling among what look like English fields of buttercups and daisies and acres of waving grain; while a rich growth of variegated green fringes the feet or climbs up the sides of the softly swelling distant hills. Tender lights and shadows are lying restfully everywhere. It all looks so calm and peaceful—as though nature, hushed to sleep, was smiling in her dreams. ”

“ Presently we stop at a kind of wayside hotel (the veriest hovel that sells a jug of lager or slab of corncake is dignified by the name of hotel) ; it is quite in the wilderness, a sort of travellers’ rest, with not a shanty nor even a pig-stye in sight, for the wild hogs (and their name is legion) run free—poor homeless tramps of the wilderness; and long legged, ragged-looking Cochin-Chinas are strutting about crowing their loudest, as though the whole world belonged to them. This is no house of entertainment for us; we have been merely signalled to stop to take up passengers. ”

“ With much tumbling, and clutching their brood together, they scrambled into their appointed places, in a seedy-looking car adjoining ours, and we are off; the city spires and steeples fade from our view, and our faces are set towards Georgia. We are well beyond the region of the maple trees now; but forests of pine and cypress, dashed here and there with the snow-white blossoms of the dogwood, close on all sides of us, except where our narrow iron path makes its way through them. Soon we come to an open clearing, where the forest trees have been cut down and timber huts built up ”

“ Here the stream of life flows on in peaceful untroubled calm, it moves with a decorous quiet, is never in a hurry; they till the soil, and sow, and reap, prune, and plant in a leisurely fashion. They have made their homes and settled down there and mean to stay. There is no vexatious hurrying to and fro, no sudden influx of strangers from all lands, pouring in and overspreading the country, bringing with them a whirl of evil passions, with murder in their train, each elbowing the other, trampling down all rule and order in their eager thirst for gold! ”

“ During the winter there are no more delightful residences than here by this river side;{155} we pass by one that looks like a bit of paradise cut out and laid down upon these smiling shores, with its tangle of trees and vines, and wild fruits and flowers, and birds of bright plumage flitting to and fro. But woe be to him who in summer is tempted to linger here; it is as the beauty of the fair frail charmer, blooming and dimpling with smiles in the sunlight, but when the night comes breathing disease and death. ”

“ As we walk up this narrow aisle piles of rich luscious fruit rise to the right and the left of us; there are hills of pine-apples, and yellow and red bananas, festoons of purple grapes, and mountains of strawberries, bushels of black and white currants, pumpkins, and that arch impostor, the great green water-melon,{77} all artistically arranged, and forming a perfect mosaic of nature’s own colouring—only the rough red face of the honest British gooseberry is nowhere to be seen. ”

“ It is not wealth that has made the first step towards progression in any land, it is always the poor emigrant, with his rifle and wheelbarrow, who first penetrates the wilds, turns the first sod, and so lays the first stone of cities and civilisation.
Nowhere can the capitalist find so large a scope for his speculations, and nowhere can the poor man find a better market for the labour of his hand or the fruits of his brain; with industry and prudence he may be assured of present comfort and future prosperity—limitless prosperity, provided also that he be energetic and wise. ”

“ As the evening shadows fall we enter the cypress{87} swamps; the dusky forms of the forest giants stand stiff and stark in the gloaming, making up a weird and somewhat romantic scene. Night closes in, the great golden moon climbs slowly into the purple skies, and the balmy evening air has a delicious fragrance as though it came from worlds unknown. But with all its sombre subtle charm, a cypress swamp is not exactly the place one would choose to break down in, and just here our engine, which has been crawling and groaning like a crippled maniac for the last half hour, elects to stop short. ”

“ Perhaps it owes some of its placidity to the fact that it flows the wrong way, and by no human agency can it ever be set right. Unlike the rest of the American rivers, it flows due north; the why and the wherefore is one of Nature’s mysteries. It is always spacious and majestic: here a tiny island with a crown of green foliage studs its surface; there tall reeds and rushes and wide-leaved grasses sway in the slow-flowing current, as though they have wandered from the land, and are trying to save themselves from drowning. ”

“ A beautiful human nest it is; low-lying, as in a hole scooped out of the solid earth, many feet below the waters of the Mississippi, partially surrounded by swamps of the rankest kind, and girdled by silver streams and deep flowing rivers, it must necessarily be the favourite resort of the malarial fiend. Here that scourge of the South, the yellow fever, too, rising from sweltering earth, sends forth his scorching, blighting breath, and clothes the land in mourning. But every man clings to his own soil ”

“ Re-entering the car we are again on our way, and enjoy a series of dissolving views of some of the most charming scenery of the South—through plantations of cotton trees, and red and white blossomed dogwood. Slowly the world of green disappears beneath the grey twilight shadows; the sun, which has been blazing like a ball of burnished gold all day, seems suddenly to grow tired of shining, and draws his crimson curtains round him and sinks suddenly to rest. ”