When I first visited this place, the old grandmother, then eighty years of age, was living. She, like the old lady at “Rustic,” had been a belle in Eastern Virginia in her youth. When she married the owner of Smithfield sixty years before, she made the “bridal jaunt” from Norfolk to this place on horseback, two hundred miles. Still exceedingly intelligent and interesting, she entertained us with various incidents of her early life, and wished to hear all the old songs which she had then heard and sung herself.
“When I was married” said she, “and came first to Smithfield my husband’s sisters met me in the porch, and were shocked at my pale and delicate appearance. One of them whispering to her brother, asked, ‘Why did you bring that ghost up here?’ And now,” continued the old lady, “I have outlived all who were in the house that day, and all my own and my husband’s family.”
This was an evidence certainly of the health restoring properties of the water and climate in this region.
The houses of these three brothers were filled with company winter and summer, making within themselves a delightful society. The visitors at one house were equally visitors at the others, and the succession of dinner and evening parties from one to the other, made it difficult for a visitor to decide at whose particular house he was staying.
One of these brothers had married a lovely lady from South Carolina, whose perfection of character and disposition endeared her to every one who knew her. Everybody felt like loving her the moment they saw her, and the more they knew her the more they loved her. Her warm heart was ever full of other people’s troubles or joys, never thinking of herself. In her house many an invalid was cheered by her tender care; and many a drooping heart revived by her bright Christian spirit. She never omitted an opportunity of pointing the way to heaven; and although surrounded by all the allurements which gay society and wealth could bring, she did not depart an instant from the quiet path which leads to heaven. In the midst of bright and happy surroundings, her thoughts and hopes were constantly centered upon the life above; and her conversation—which was the reflex of her heart—reverted ever to this theme, which she made attractive to old and young.
[CHAPTER XII.]
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.