The Carolina Mountains
by Margaret W. Morley
Summary
In The Carolina Mountains, Margaret Morley’s lyric descriptions paint a vivid, somewhat romantic picture of this region at the beginning of the 20th century. With previously unpublished photography by Morley, this edition is not to be missed.
Excerpt
A short distance beyond Flat Rock, the train stops at Hendersonville, a gay garden of buildings as seen in the distance, and where upon arriving one is dismayed to hear the pouf! pouf! of an automobile. For Hendersonville has recently grown into a place of importance where summer visitors congregate, and it would also like you to know it is a railway center. At least, besides the main line running through it, there is that branch line crossing over into the French Broad Valley and proceeding up past Brevard and on over the mountains into the Sapphire Country, that enchanting region where, besides silver cascades and blue mountains, one finds sumptuous hotels, artificial lakes, and the ways of the world.
Beyond Hendersonville the train continues across the plateau some sixteen miles to Asheville, villages, from each of which one gets beautiful views, growing closer together. These villages in the forest, not visible from the train, make pleasant summer resorts for the increasing numbers of those who come up to escape the heat of the plains. Each of them, of course, is destined to a great future, and the youngest and smallest, the one that bears the name of Tuxedo,must perforce bear more than this, for the trainmen in calling out the station prick the bubble of ambition by putting the accent on the last syllable, when they do not put it on the first.
Two miles before reaching Asheville, the train stops at a place which might cause the bewildered traveler, if unprepared, to wonder where he is. A corner out of some village of old England seems to have been set down bodily in the heart of the New World wilderness. It is the village of Biltmore, lying in full view from the train on a perfectly level space, a charming collection of houses surrounded by smooth lawns, wreathed in vines, shaded by trees, and grouped about a square and along winding streets.
A church, Early Gothic in style, with a strong square central tower, is the natural and dignified center of the village. The beauty of the interior of the church is enhanced by a number of fine stained-glass windows, one of which was placed there to the memory of Frederick Law Olmsted, America’s greatest landscape gardener, who laid out the grounds of Biltmore, and another as a memorial to Richard M. Hunt, who designed the church as well as Biltmore House, the residence of Mr. Vanderbilt, which, standing three miles away, is not visible from the train.
Coming suddenly upon Biltmore out of the surrounding forest, one has a prophetic sense of the change that is about to overwhelm these so long changeless mountains, and at Biltmore one must stop and become acquainted with the very interesting development that has there taken place. First, however, Asheville, the oldest, largest, and best-known town in the mountains, must be considered, since some knowledge of its history is necessary in order to understand the history of the mountains, including Biltmore.
Reviews
"...a most useful and enduring guide book...." — The New York Times, November 30, 1913
"No possible beauty of the Blue Ridge or Smoky Mountains is omitted." — Literary Digest, November 15, 1913