I doubt if I got anything of much interest in Virginia, except Buckley’s (and Nuttall’s) Andromeda, Rhamnus parvifolius on the waters of Green-brier, (where did Pursh get it?), Heuchera pubescens in fruit and Heuehera hispida Pursh!! out of flower and fruit, so that I detected it by the leaves only (and got good roots), not far from where Pursh discovered it, but more west, on the frontiers of a range of mountains where this very local species doubtless abounds.
From Jefferson went to Grandfather; had a fine time and good weather; explored the old fellow thoroughly, but found 140 new Phænogams. Sullivant made a great haul of Mosses and Jungermanniæ. Found the Moodys heartily glad to see us. The elder brother is married since our former visit. Miss Nancy delighted with the calico dress I brought her, and made me promise to ask some of my lady friends at home to cut out a pattern for her in newspaper and send by mail,—to be in tiptop style,—in the very height of the fashion! Poor Miss Nancy! How she would look! The “old gentleman” (Mr. Carey) was most affectionately inquired after. Indeed Miss Nancy is perfectly in love with him, and sacredly keeps the sperm-candle-end he gave her as a relic. She gave me a most amusing account of the wonderment which our visit caused. To it she attributes the advantages they now enjoy both for religious and secular instruction. For we found a young Episcopal clergyman, sent by the bishop, resident in the neighborhood, where he has spent already almost a year,—a perfect hermit, so far as civilized society goes. Yet he is busily occupied, and nearly contented, has built a little cabin in full view of the Gothic Grandfather, and I hope is doing much good. He accompanied us to the mountain, but did not remain over night in our encampment, having a distant service on Saturday. His name is Prout. Mrs. Torrey will remember something about his history, which will in part account for his willingness to spend a few years in this solitary region. I had hoped to hear him preach on the Sunday we passed at the Moodys’ on our return from the mountain; but he preached at a station ten miles off.
A. Gray.
In one of his later mountain journeys Dr. Gray passed again through Val Crucis in June, 1879; and the following extract from Mrs. Gray’s journal gives the sad fate of the little mission colony.
“In the afternoon we came upon Val Crucis.... It seems, years ago (in 1841) when Dr. Gray, Mr. John Carey, and others came exploring in the mountains, Mr. Carey was laid up for a while in a farm-house, and talking with the good people found them woefully ignorant, especially of everything relating to Christianity. So when he went back to New York he corresponded with the Southern bishop, who bestirred himself, and a mission was sent into the mountains. They settled at Val Crucis, and so named it. It was in the early days of Ritualism, and the young men thought to found something like the early monastic settlements in England, and as it seemed to the ignorant people, played strange pranks and preached wonderful and incomprehensible doctrines which puzzled and bewildered them; then Bishop Ives went over to the Catholic Church, and it all died out; and here is the church (the rude timber church), with still a few members, but all the farms and settlements passed into other hands—as far as I could make out into the hands of a rich old man, who lives anything but a holy life, and whose boarding-house for the saw-mill hands in Val Crucis is an awful degradation! I saw at the Duggers a large old Bible, and on it printed ‘Society of the Holy Cross, Val Crucis,’ which the children were using to paste stories and pictures in!”
The journal continues:—
Monday and Tuesday.—Crossed the Blue Ridge, descended John’s River, and went to near the base of Table Mountain. Wednesday, ascended it. Was fortunate enough to get Hudsonia montana, specimens and roots; also a few roots of Thermopsis fraxinifolia. While digging one of these near the base of the mountain, struck upon a little clump of Schweinitzia, half buried in the leaves, five or six specimens; but a long hunt furnished no more.
Thursday, crossed Linville River in sight of the North Cove (Michaux’s old residence) and went to Carson’s on the Catawba. We lost a shoe from our black horse while descending the Blue Ridge, and he wore his hoof so as to lame him severely. Obliged to leave him at Carson’s (as we could not exchange him to advantage) and hire another horse to take his place for a week. Crossed the Swananoa gap; got fine near view of Black Mountain; passed the night not far from its base (twelve miles from Asheville). Should have ascended, but could not do it so as to get back Saturday night to any place to stay, and longed to spend one Sunday in a civilized place where we could attend public worship. So went on to Asheville to dinner; passed Saturday afternoon in taking care of our plants. Heard very good preaching at the Methodist church on Sunday. Monday set out down the French Broad. Tuesday reached the Warm Springs; got a luxurious bath. Rode the afternoon through the rain to Paint Rock, etc.; stayed the night in Tennessee below. Got Buckleya in fruit, and other things I can’t now specify. Wednesday, dug up Buckleyas, etc. Left Mr. Sullivant at Warm Springs, who, not being able to bear the absence from his wife and children longer, has left me alone with the team, and is by this time more than halfway to Columbus. Thursday, returned to Asheville. Friday, packed a fine box of roots, with which my wagon was loaded. Sent for my black horse. Saturday, bad weather; but made a little excursion on horseback, got roots of Arum quinatum, which, by the way, often has the lateral leaflets not at all incised, and then (in fruit) looks just like A. Virginicum. Buckley is often inquired after here, and seems to have been quite a favorite. He might have enlivened his journal had he informed us therein that he visited both Black and Bald Mountains with a merry company of ladies, and camped out on the summit! But the sly fellow kept all this to himself.
I begin to be in a hurry; but have yet much to do, and find it rather lonely. Monday and Tuesday I intend to devote to Hickory-Nut Gap, twenty-eight miles and back. Then visit Black, if I meddle with this mountain at all. Then, taking final leave of Asheville, go into the mountains near the head of French Broad, take up my quarters with a well-known hunter, try to reach Pilot and other high mountains which Buckley failed in reaching, and which have never been visited by a botanist, unless by Rugel;[134] thence to Table Rock, South Carolina, and by a roundabout way to Franklin, Macon County, Tolula Falls, and Clarksville, Georgia, where I shall try to sell out my horses and wagon, and take stage for Athens, where I am in the way to come by steam all the way to Princeton, via Augusta and Charleston, which bid fair to be healthy enough to warrant my passing through them without rashness.