The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, November 12, 1904, Image 1

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Newspaper Page Textan_n_nn_ni agggaB-ag^-gaaBQorywMSPgaapia'JWBi’eEgae^^ xaa&^^ttcsz. i^ass:- VOLUN.E XL1I-.NUMBER THIRTY-SEVEN. Atlanta, Ga., Week Ending November 12, 1904 Up the Historic Potomac to the Nation’s Capital • • ;■ • lug beauty. as soon beneath the rays of a rising siii’.; and Alexandria, with its air of distrait, has an Interest entirely it? awn. The beautiful broad river nows between low-fringed hills, which at the tiino of my itinerary were tinged with the colors of autumn. Nowhere is tie liver more delightful than as you near At uoi:L Vernon, and where is the man with soul so dull as not to feel the •spell of tills enehanging spot. Wash- ingtcii gave us a practical < stlmate -,.r 1.1s home in these words: ' No estate in .inll'-d America Is more pleasantly situated. In a high and healthy country, In a latitude between the extremes of heat and cold, on one °1 the finest rivers in the world, n river v eil stocked with various kinds of fish at all seasons of the year, and in the sj ring with shad, herring, bass, carp, sturgeon, etc.. In great abundance. "Trie borders of the estate are washed by nmi e 1 ha 11 JO miles of tide-water* : eyeral valuable fisheries appertain to it. Ihc whole shore, in fact, is one vast By HELEN GRAY. great as he. also held i, namely, Ilobert K. PON the hanks of the Po tomac, as all the world knows, stands Mount Vw (.while the home g non, er 8 H of the great founder of tb.e American republic, it seemed befitting to travel on tills classic stream in a vessel named after him who gave the stream renown. The Washington, of the Norfolk and Washington lino of steamers, pushed sway front her wharf at Norfolk at 6 o'clock on the evening when a beautiful sunset glow was lighting up the mag nificent harbor, and the great growing city that adorns it. Prom the city t > ft:e mouth of tlic river—through Ilamp ton Roads and up Chesapeake bay. is a stretch of 78 miles; from the mouth of the river to the capital of the nation about 125 miles may bo counted. The river rises in the Alleghany mountains, in West Virginia, and is formed l>y two branches. Its most picturesque scenery is to ho seen in the vicinity of Harpers I'erry. lis most notable tributaries are the Shenandoah and the Monoeaey Washington, the most bountiful city of the new world, stands at the head <•: navigation or. the historic stream, the largest vessels being aide b> ascend the river at this point. Much that is of historic interest <<n the trip is passed during the nighttime; Wakefield, for instance, when the groat patriot was born, in the year of our Ford 1732. Here lived Augustine Wash ington and his good wife, born Mary Rail, a woman of forceful character, to whose teachings her great son ai- tributed his success in life. THE GRADUAL APPROACH. But the early bird on this most plea.-- .nt vnj .. , a .leg Ington—a twelve-hour uni—v> li find abundant in spiration to reward him for l it; activity. The approach to Mount Vernon and Washington city a: ■ almost of b-.-wilihr- Washington Monument at ton City. from the river, and can scarcely be scei The place is chiefly interesting to souti enters as the home of the immortal Fe< The house is one of the most beautifi in the country, showing massive Dor' columns, eight in number. The tempi of Theseuo. at Athens, was chosen as it model. The most beautiful approach to Arne lea's most beautiful city is front the w Old Christ Church at Alexandria, Va.. Where Washington and General Lee Attended. m fl0 »WS COLLECTION (Mil c<r. m i *.? ; R ?;« The who! fishery.” ‘ Hut w&jare more attracted to the poe try of the scene that is before us. \\ e catch fascinating glimpses awhile before we come upon the most impres- >i\o \ iev of our George Washington's noble home. How refined the picture before us. The low, white house, with its wide, pkiaru portico, gleaming In the sunlight—i wo stories and dormer win dows iook.ng out front a sloping roof. The cupofa conspicuous at the top. Beau tiful trees (luster about, and we have glimpses of attractive shrubbery on tho green sward which remind us of the gar dens of the artistic old world. There is cnlyennthus and althea. and mock orange and snowball, and hedges of tall, sweet-smelling box. The rose garden was an important feature of the beautiful place when Washington and his companionable wife were alive, and one rose in particular, wc are told about —the.one that he named after his mother. Many of the beautiful old trees that are te-;;. fiel. .g out eyes we. c j tan .*« by Washington himself, whose domestic vir tues w> re not the least of his admirable qualities. Can we not picture him on the oollonadeu portico yonder, gazing out The Official Home of the Nation. upon the beautiful river that lit loved so well, the while Martha Washington sits nearby with lur favorite knitting? Home ly bodies were these two, for does not Martha tell us that the days passed away from Mount Vernon seem lost ones? And does noL h< - ». great spoils' regret in Ills diary having to "bid adieu to private life and domestic felicity " A FESTIVE OCCASION. There were gay times, too, at Mount Vernon. A happy occasion was when Kleanor Curtis was married to I.aw- r< nee Fewis. Washington's nephew, upon the last birthday ever accredited to the great patriot on earth. General Wash ington gave tb.e bride a harpsichord for a wedding gjfe. It cost S 1.000. and is to be seen today in "Nellie Curtis’ ntusie room." In the historic home. Someone has described the affair; "The mansion was decked with flowers and evergreens, and nil the gentlefolks of the surround ing country were invited. The ceremony was performed in the great drawing room, lighted by many waxen tapers, which brought out in strong relief the silent portraits on the walls, in curious contrast with the merry throng below them. The stately minuet was danced, and the spirited Virginia Reel. It was a brilliant scene. The picturesque cos tumes of colonial days were still In vogue—rich fabrics and richer colors, stomachers and short cloties. with jew eled buckles and broaches, powder, ruf fles everywhere. "Mount Vernon never witnessed such a scene again." And iliis same account adds; "Ten months later, in tin same long drawing room, so lately the scene of these bridal festivi ties, the body of the great chief lay on its sable bier.” Mount V rnon was named by Lawrence Washington, who built the place, after Admiral Vinton, under whom he served at Cartagena. It" had courted pretty Anne Fairfax, daughter of Colonel Wil liam Fairfax, who lived at Belvoir. near ly opposite Mount Vernon, and that his pretty man. Another, as that office later < I ,ee. The ci Kirch was built in 1773, and was paid for in pounds of tobacco. Curious to relate, at. two different times in the history of the old chur- h the position of s-xton was held by a woman. These fe male sextons were named, respectively. St:sana Edwards and Mistress Cook. The famous "wine glass pulpit" is no longer to be seen. Sure there were no "Woman's Christian Temperance Cnions In those days, else never would there have been a pulpit so shaped. Alexandria has a splendid water front. But alas, the old town's past 'hits been loo much for her, she seems in a state of eternal calm. The old Fairfax house s'ill show: Us head, but is not os attractive a. rei;. a- the Carlyle house. Braddock's headquar ters. It was to this house that Major Washington was summoned to give his views to the British commander on the subject of Indian warfare. The paneled room. 21 by 15 feet, is one of the in teresting points in the town. Some of the streets of Alexandria in their name? savor of the old world. There are King and Queen a.: id Royal and Duke and Rrine.e and Princess, crossing Columbia and Washington. A gala event in the story of the town was when La Fayette made his visit in 1824. A triufnphal arch was erected J" Ids honor, and children strewed flowers in his way. It was during this visit that he offered the toast. "The city of Alex andria! may her prosperity and rrippi ness more and more realize the fondest wishes of our venerated Washington.” Alas! tlie oKl town has lost her com mercial prestige! Dreamily she waits for the good time ihit may be coming. INTERESTING RELICS. The Washington lodge n' Freemasons holds creme interesting relies. IIere may be seen the clock taken from the death chamber of 'Washington, it marks til- hour when he drew his last breath. The museum belong i.ig !o the lodge w:,s burned and with it, among other things, tire bier which carried the hero to his tomb, and the crepe that hung from tie- tlooi. A little farther on in Arlington the mansion house stands, half a mile bu K l sample inform letter Hoot }: ad Vi l sending r.\n "ONTINEED ON J hom# bride might live near h»r old he built Mount Vernon. Law rence Washington, who was the .brother of the first president, died, leaving a sickly child, whose death soon after her fa tiler's, carried the estate into the pos session of onr hero. But see we are n. a ring tho grand old town or Alexan dria, and that prominent brick structure with the steeple proclaiming it a house of worship, is old Christ church, where George Washington was once a vestrv- Mount Vernon, on the Potomac. George Washington's Home. Thursday at Three By David Graham PHiliips Fourth in Series of Stories by We IF Renown JIuthors which have newspapers DON after Fenimore Day- ton became a reporter his city editor sent him to In terview Janies Mountain. That famous financier was then approaching the ze- i - - i-ig-i nith of his power over %Js i nZM Wall street and Lombard street. It had just been announced that he had "absorbin'' the Great Eastern and Great West ern railway system—of course, by Die methods made some men and some habitually speak of him as "tlie royal bandit." The city editor had two reasons for sending Dayton—first, because he did not iike him: sevond, be cause any other man on the staff would walk about for an hour and come bade with the report that Mountain had re fused to receive him. while Dayton would make an honest effort. Dayton turned in at the Equitable building and went up to the floor occu pied by Mountain, Ranger ,v- Blakehiil. He nodded to tlie attendant at tlie door of Mountain's own suit of offices, strolled tranquilly down the aisle between s- veral rows of desks at whicli sat Mountain’s persona 1 clerks, and knocked at the glass door on which was printed “Mr. Moun tain'' In small gilt letter.-. "Come in!" It \\hs an angry voice Mountain's at his worst. Dayton opened the door, -Mountain glanced up from the mass of papers be fore him. His red forehead became a network of wrinkles and liis scant white eyebrows bristled. "And who are you?" he snarled. "My name is Dayton—Fenimore Day- ton," replied the reporter with a grace fully polite bow. "Mr. Mountain, I be lieve?” It was impossible for Mr. Mountain al together to resist the impulse to bow in return. Dayton’s manner was compell ing. "And what the dev—what cun I do -for you?" "I'm a reporter front the—" "What!" roared Mountain, leaping to his feet in a purple, swollen-veined fury. "How dare you enter here?" "But—why noi?" Dayton looked sur prised. "No one tried to stop jn-.” "Impudence!” "Pardon me—not impudence." Davton smiled agreeably. "Impudence is unsuc cessful audacity. For example, if you had failed to g; t the Great Eastern and Western, they'd have said you were im pudent to try. As it is men call it au dacity. Now, if i’ll failed to gel here— perhaps—' Mountain listened with a grim smile. He saw in young Dayton ah.- signs of a quality lie especially admired -he couldn't help softening toward him. "1 stand conecteif," he said gruffly. Then lie laid his hand on the young man's shoulder and pointed toward the large room. "Do you see those clerks?" he demanded. "I do,” said Dayton. "There are thirty-seven of them—and that big numbskull nt the door makes thirty-eight. T employ those' thirty-eight nten to save me from—audacity such as yours. Yet hero you are-an my private office! IIow do you explain it?" Dayton laughed—his laugh was very contagious. "I don't know. I'm sure," he said. "Perhaps if they were tlie sort of men who could outwit me. they'd tie doing my work and ]'d he doing theirs." Mountain's eyes smiled. The longer lie looked at Dayton's refined yet resolute face the better lie liked it. “Sit down," he said in an ironic tone of mock resig nation. "But be quick, and be careful not to irritate me with questions that ari* —audacious. My digestion is pool’, and. therefore, my temper is not—what ii Plight he." That is tlie first recorded story of Day ton's “colossal cheek." Now for tin- last one—the one since which liis-"cheek" has been TiiougTfT of and spoken of. ad mired and envied, as “Napoleonic dar ing." He soon rose to be a notable special correspondent. One winter afternoon at a musleale in tlie studio of liis friend. Brownlee, the artist, he met a elrl witii whom lie straightway fell In lov • She was Elsie Grant, the only daughter of Mrs. James WinWord Grant. She had spent most of her life abroad, and her mother was even then negotiating for an Italian prince who thought well of Elsie and also of her large dot. And then Dayton had come—ana no was never the man to shy at Obstacles. He beguiled her mother into not see ing what was going on. He made love to her daughter in a straightforward way. To Elsie, who then could think only i*i terms of the Almanaeh de Gotha, ii seem - 1 t!:e way of a Rudolj h of llaps- burg issuing from his barren mountain farm in Switzerland to conquer men with liis sword and women with his smile, and to found ah empire. When ilia Grants went abroad in March he .suc ceeded in getting a roving European com mission from his newspaper and went in the same steamer. He put tlie issue squarely before her the day before they landed—ht did uot speak of love until she had given him tlie right., not only by en couraging him, nut also by making it plain that she passionately wished to hear the words that lay behind his looks and tones. "Don’t answer me now." ho said. "I don't want you on Impulse. You're going down into tha country for a week. When you come up to London you will know.” He went on to London and began to east about, for something out of the or dinary to send his paper. In a Times re port of a meeting of the Royal Society he found the hint he was seeking. The world renowned philosopher and scien tist. Ford Frampton (Hubert Foss), had addressed the society on “The Destiny of Democracy.” "I'll interview Foss," said he to Iveagh, the Londn correspondent of his paper. “Everybody in America knows his name. And what he'll say along those lines will make a lot of talk over there just now." “But"—Iveagh was an Englishman, un used to and abhorrent of American ways —“you can't do it, Mr. Dayton. Lord Frampton,” with emphasis on tlie title, "is a very old man—almost 90. He lives as quietly as possible; sees no one. He wouldn’t think of interviewing. He's very old fashioned, dislikes even om newspapers. And he’s been a sort of re cluse all his life.” "No harm in trying.” said Dayton, "i'll just drop him a line.” In the mail two mornings later came the answer. Dayton opened it in the presence of Tveagli. It was a printed slip which read: "Lord Frampton appreciates your cour tesy. He regrets that age and the state of his health make it impossible for hint personally to thank you.” “I thought so.” said Iveagh. not con cealing his delight at Dayton’s discom fiture.. “He sends that to i-veryboi.. who tries to intrude upon him.” Dayton mechanically turned the printed siip over. “YVhat's this?" he said. There was writing in a feeble, cramped hand: “My Dear Sir: I am lunching at the Athenaeum Club the day after tomorrow (Thursday) and shall be pleased to see von there afterward—at 3. “FRAMPTON." Dayton thrust the note into his pocket, concealing his feeling of triumph. "1 may cable what he says—if it’s worth while. It might make a good feature for them on Sunday." And he went a way. Iveagli looked after him. dazed. “Yet there are some people who say there’s no such thing as luck," he grumbled. “Who’d have thought old Frampton had gone stark, mad?" At the Carleton Dayton found a tele- gra m: “Shall be at Claridge's tomorrow. Be sure to come at 3. precisely. "Whatever shall I do?" he said after he had reread tlie telegram and Lord Frampton’s note, to make sure. Both for Thursday. Both at the same hour. I can’t nut either of them off. What shall 1 do with Foss?" No. Foss could not be put off. He must be seen at the time he had appointed, or the great Sunday feature would be lost. “I must send some one in my place. But who? It must lie a newspaper man. a man with the newspaper instinct and training: it must be a man of the best possible address, and up in philosophy and sociology, and Foss—where can 1 get him?” It seemed absurd to think on such a problem. Yet after nearly an hour. Day- ton jumped up and said. “Why, of course —just the man—better than I could possi bly do it myself." and began fumbling in -a compartment of tlie trunk that was full of letters, papers and cards. He soon found what he was searching for—a card bearing the address of Henry Car penter. A common friend in New York ij>ad given it to him, saying, "Look Car penter up. and, if you can. put something in hi? way. I hear he's badly off." As Dayton said to himself. Henry Car penter was probably the b st equipped man in the world tor an interview nitii Foss for an American newspaper. lie was a Yale man with a Ph. D. from Gottingen, and a writer on economic subjects who had won some fame. But philosophy is not profitable, and Carpen ter made* liis living as a newspaper re-

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, November 12, 1904, Image 1