In the region of country just described and in the counties beyond abound the finest mineral springs, one or more being found on every plantation. At one place were seven different springs, and the servants had a habit of asking the guests and family whether they would have—before breakfast—a glass of White Sulphur, Yellow Sulphur, Black Sulphur, Alleghany, Alum, or Limestone water!

The old Greenbriar White Sulphur was a favorite place of resort for Eastern Virginians and South Carolinians at a very early date, when it was accessible only by private conveyances, and all who passed the summer there went in private carriages. In this way, certain old Virginia and South Carolina families met every season, and these old people told us that society there was never as good, after the railroads and stages brought “all sorts of people, from all sorts of places.” This, of course, we knew nothing about from experience, and it sounded rather egotistical in the old people to say so, but that is what they said.

Indeed these “old folks” talked so much about what “used to be in their day” at the old White Sulphur, I found it hard to convince myself I had not been bodily present, seeing with my own eyes certain knee-buckled old gentlemen, with long queues, and certain Virginia and South Carolina belles attired in short-waisted, simple white cambrics, who passed the summers there. These white cambrics, we were told, had been carried in minute trunks behind the carriages; and were considered, with a few jewels and a long black or white lace veil thrown over the head and shoulders, a complete outfit for the reigning belles! Another curiosity was, that these white cambric dresses—our grandmothers told us—required very little “doing up;” one such having been worn by Mrs. General Washington—so her granddaughter told me—a whole week without requiring washing! It must have been an age of remarkable women, and remarkable cambrics! How little they dreamed then of an era when Saratoga trunks would be indispensable to ladies of much smaller means than Virginia and South Carolina belles!

To reach these counties flowing with mineral waters the families from Eastern Virginia and from South Carolina passed through a beautiful region known as Piedmont, Va., and those who had “kinsfolk or acquaintance” here usually stopped to make them a visit. Consequently the Piedmont Virginians were generally too busy entertaining summer guests to visit the springs themselves. But indeed why should they? For no more salubrious climate could be found than their own; and no scenery more grand and beautiful. But it was necessary for the tide-water Virginians to leave their homes every summer on account of chills and fevers.

In the lovely Piedmont region over which the “Peaks of Otter” rear their giant heads, and chains of blue mountains extend as far as eye can reach, were scattered many pleasant and picturesque homes. And in this section my grandfather bought a plantation, when the ancestral estates had been sold, in the Eastern part of the State, to repay the British debt, which estates, homesteads and tombstones with their quaint inscriptions are described in Bishop Meade’s “Old Churches and Families of Virginia.”

While the tide water Virginians were already practicing all the arts and wiles known to the highest English civilization; were sending their sons to be educated in England; receiving brocaded silks and powdered wigs from England; and dancing the minuet at the Williamsburg balls with the families of the noblemen sent over to govern the Colony, Piedmont, Virginia, was still a dense forest, the abode of Indians and wild animals.

It was not strange, then, that the Piedmont Virginians never arrived at the opulent manner of living adopted by those on James and York rivers, who, tradition tells us, went to such excess in high living, as to have “hams boiled in champagne,” and of whom other traditions have been handed down amusing and interesting. Although the latter were in advance of the Piedmont Virginians in wealth and social advantages, they were not superior to them in honor, virtue, or kindness and hospitality.

It has been remarked that, “when natural scenery is picturesque there is in the human character something to correspond; impressions made on the retina are really made on the soul, and the mind becomes what it contemplates.”

The same author continues: “A man is not only like what he sees, but he is what he sees. The noble old Highlander has mountains in his soul, whose towering peaks point heavenward; and lakes in his bosom, whose glassy surface reflects the skies; and foaming cataracts in his heart to beautify the mountain side and irrigate the vale; and evergreen firs and mountain pines that show life and verdure even under winter skies!”

“On the other hand,” he writes, “the wandering nomad has a desert in his heart; its dead level reflects heat and hate; a sullen, barren plain—no goodness, no beauty, no dancing wave of joy, no gushing rivulet of love, no verdant hope. And it is an interesting fact that those who live in countries where natural scenery inspires the soul, and where the necessities of life bind to a permanent home, are always patriotic and high minded; and those who dwell in the desert are always pusillanimous and groveling!”

If what this author writes be true, and the character of the Piedmont Virginians accords with the scenery around them, how their hearts must be filled with gentleness and charity inspired by the landscape which stretches far and fades in softness against the sky! How must their minds be filled with noble aspirations suggested by the “everlasting mountains!” How their souls must be filled with thoughts of heaven, as they look upon the glorious sunsets bathing the mountains in “rose-colored light;” with the towering peaks ever pointing heavenward and seeming to say: “Behold the glory of a world beyond!”[5]

Beneath the shadow of the “Peaks” were many happy homes and true hearts, and among these memory recalls none more vividly than “Otterburn” and its inmates.

“Otterburn” was the residence of a gentleman and his wife, who, having no children, devoted themselves to making their home attractive to visitors, in which they succeeded so well that they were rarely without company; for all who went once to see them went again and again.

This gentleman’s mind, character, accomplishments, manner and appearance marked him “rare”—“one in a century.” Above his fellow men in greatness of soul, he could comprehend nothing “mean.” His stature was tall and erect; his features bold; his countenance open and impressive; his mind vigorous and cultivated; his bearing dignified, but not haughty; his manners simple and attractive; his conversation so agreeable and enlivening that the dullest company became animated as soon as he came into the room. Truth and high-toned character were so unmistakably stamped upon him, that knowing him a day convinced one he could be trusted forever. Brought up in Scotland—the home of his ancestors—in him were blended the best points of Scotch and Virginia character; strict integrity and accuracy, with whole-souled generosity and hospitality.

How many days and nights we passed at his house, and in childhood and youth, how many hours were entertained by his bright and instructive conversation! Especially delightful was it to hear his stories about Scotland, which brought before us vividly pictures of its lakes and mountains and castles. How often did we listen to his account of the wedding tour to Scotland, when he carried his Virginia bride to the old home at Greenock! And how often we laughed about the Scotch children, his nieces and nephews, who on first seeing his wife, clapped their hands and shouted, “Oh! mother, are you not glad uncle did not marry a black woman?” Hearing he was to marry a Virginian, they expected to see a savage Indian or negro! And some of the family who went to Liverpool to meet them, and were looking through spy glasses when the vessel landed, said they “were sure the Virginia lady had not come, because they saw no one among the passengers dressed in a red shawl and gaudy bonnet like an Indian!”

From this we thought the Europeans must be very ignorant of our country and its inhabitants—and have learned since that their children are kept purposely ignorant of facts in regard to America and its people.

Among many other recollections of this dear old friend of “Otterburn,” I shall never forget a dream he told us one night, which so impressed us that before his death we asked him to write it out, which he did, and as the copy is before me in his own handwriting, will insert it here:

“About the time I became of age, I returned to Virginia for the purpose of looking after and settling my father’s estate. Three years thereafter I received a letter from my only sister, informing me that she was going to be married, and pressing me in the most urgent manner to return to Scotland to be present at her marriage, and to attend to the drawing of the marriage contract. The letter gave me a good deal of trouble, as it did not suit me to leave Virginia at that time. I went to bed one night thinking much on this subject, but soon fell asleep and dreamed that I landed in Greenoch in the night time, and pushed for home, thinking I would take my aunt and sister by surprise.

“When I arrived at the door, I found all still and quiet, and the out door locked—I thought, however, that I had in my pocket my check key, with which I quietly opened the door and groped my way into the sitting-room, but finding no one there I concluded they had gone to bed. I then went up stairs to their bed-room, and found that unoccupied. I then concluded they had taken possession of my bed-room in my absence, but not finding them there became very uneasy about them. Then it struck me they might be in the guest’s chamber, a room down stairs kept exclusively for company. Upon going there I found the door partially open; I saw my aunt removing the burning coals from the top of the grate preparatory to going to bed. My sister was sitting up in bed, and as I entered the room, she fixed her eyes upon me, but did not seem to recognize me. I approached towards her, and in the effort to make myself known, awoke, and found it all a dream. At breakfast next morning, I felt wearied and sick, and could not eat; and told the family of my (dream) journey the overnight.

“I immediately commenced preparing, and in a very short time returned to Scotland. I saw my sister married, and she and her husband set off on their ‘marriage jaunt.’ About a month thereafter they returned, and at dinner I commenced telling them of my dream, but observing they had quit eating and were staring at me, I laughed, and asked what was the matter; whereupon my brother-in-law very seriously asked me to go on. When I finished they asked me if I remembered the exact time of my dream. I told them it distressed and impressed me so strongly, that I noted it down at the time. I pulled out my pocket-book and shewed them the date, ‘14th day of May,’ written in pencil. They all rose from the table and took me into the bed-room and shewed me written with pencil on the white mantle piece ‘14th of May.’

“I asked them what that meant, and was informed that on that very night—and the only night they ever occupied that room during my absence—my aunt was taking the coals off of the fire, when my sister screamed out, ‘brother has come!’

“My aunt scolded her, and said she was dreaming; but she said she had not been to sleep, was sitting up in bed, and saw me enter the room, and run out when she screamed. So confident was she that she had seen me, and that I had gone off and hidden, that the whole house was thoroughly searched for me, and as soon as day dawned a messenger was sent to enquire if any vessel had arrived from America, or if I had been seen by any of my friends.”

No one can forget, who visited Otterburn, the smiling faces of the negro servants about the house, who received the guests with as true cordiality as did their mistress, expressing their pleasure by widespread mouths showing white teeth—very white by contrast with their jet black skin—and when the guests went away always insisted on their remaining longer.

One of these negro women was not only an efficient servant, but a valued friend to her mistress.

In the absence of her master and mistress she kept the keys, often entertaining their friends, who in passing from distant plantations were accustomed to stop, and who received from her a cordial welcome, finding on the table as many delicacies as if the mistress had been at home.

No more sincere attachment could have existed than between this mistress and servant. At last, when the latter was seized with a contagious fever which ended her life, she could not have had a more faithful friend and nurse than was her mistress.

The same fever attacked all the negroes on this plantation, and none can describe the anxiety, care and distress of their owners, who watched by their beds day and night, administering medicine and relieving the sick and dying.