A Flight in Spring Part 1

A Flight in Spring.

by J. Harris Knowles.

I

The Circ.u.mstances of the Flight.--The Start.--The Car "Lucania."--The Kitchen.--The Cook.--The Poetic Dinner.--Our Accommodations.--Visitors at Newark.--Improvised Theatricals.--Philadelphia, Wilmington, Baltimore, Washington.--The Approaching War Crisis.

It seemed like a dream to be invited to join a party on a private Pullman car for an extended tour of close on eight thousand miles, all in these our United States! Yet such was the opportunity which was generously offered us in this springtime of 1898.

It was to be "A Flight in Spring" of most intense interest. The journey was to embrace in its continued circuit, from New York back to New York, points as widely separated as New Orleans and San Francisco. It was to traverse many States and Territories, and was to be accomplished with every adjunct of unstinted comfort and refinement.

The expected morning when we were to start on our journey came at last, with that subdued wonder in it that the dream, so unlooked for, was really to be a fact. Bags and satchels were all packed, and with that happy feeling which always comes to the tourist when, all ready, he is safely ensconced in his cab, we sped to the Twenty-third Street ferry for the Pennsylvania depot in Jersey City.

Never did the great Hudson River look so beautiful or New York so magnificent in our eyes as on that early morning of April 13th, when, through and beyond it all, we could see in imagination the great journey before us, all made more radiant by a munificent hospitality which had made it for us a fact--"A Flight in Spring"--which we had often thought of, but never hoped to see.

To start off on such a journey, with a six weeks' vacation in view, even if undertaken all alone and in most prosaic economy, would be an event; but when one was met by pleasant friends and ushered into an independent, self-contained flying home on wheels, it was indeed something ideal.

Our car, the "Lucania," was a happy combination of well-devised s.p.a.ce and comfortable arrangement. Let us recount its good points. We may as well begin with the foundation of all well-regulated homes, the kitchen. What a _multum in parvo_ that sacred spot was! It held quite a substantial cooking range; it had lockers and cupboards, and glistening cooking utensils of most approved fashion. Already our _chef_ was at his work, affording, in his own person, with all its good-natured plumpness, a hint of the good things he could evolve from the interesting scene of his labors. He was the best possible specimen of a negro cook, handsome, fat, and jolly. He filled almost completely his little kitchen; his plump and shining cheeks looking like the very best and most exquisitely finished Parisian bronze. Set off by the background of his cooking utensils and other objects of his serious and responsible calling, he presented a picture worthy of a painter.

I felt, as I looked at him, that he was a genius in his way. His subsequent work did not belie my instant instinct of his powers; for, on a day long to be remembered, as we were speeding across one of the most arid spots of our journey, somewhere in Arizona, he served up a dinner worthy of a poet; then I felt proud of him. That day the outer air was stifling. Our car was speeding through vast stretches of yellow, heated sand; the sun poured down in full force; every window was closed to keep out, as far as possible, the all-pervading dust. A weary gloom spread over the liveliest of our company, and even dinner was dreaded, as the time approached for that necessary function. At last the meal was announced, and we all reached the dining-room in a weary, limp condition, when a surprise awaited us. The artist of the galley, our negro cook, got in his poetic work. I felt his fine touch at once when I saw that there was to be no soup that day. Instead, we had some delicate fish, served with most refreshing cuc.u.mbers on ice, the sparkle of which, in the dim shaded light of our room, looked like dewdrops. Every course thereafter had a suggestion of coolness about it, gently hinting at our languor and its needs, so tenderly known and intelligently relieved. Slices of fresh fruit and iced coffee ended a repast, with the thermometer at well over 100 degrees, and yet every guest at ease and at rest. I voted from my grateful inwards that, if I could afford it, I would gladly give our good cook a bronze replica of his own bronze face, as a humble token of my appreciation of his n.o.ble art.

Among the further perfections of our land yacht were separate and secluded apartments for our married friends and other privileged parties, and ample berths for less favored mortals; there was also a s.p.a.cious dining-room, and a generous lounging place at the end of the car, where after-dinner chats could be indulged in and mornings happily pa.s.sed while watching the landscape as it seemed to fly past us and vanish in the ever-changing distance. But let us return to the events of our first day's trip. The marshes of the Hackensack valley were soon crossed, and at our first stop, at Newark, we rejoiced to find the Rev.

Dr. Frank Landon Humphreys and his sweet wife, who were to make us glad with their company as far as Washington; and certainly this was done.

There were quips and jokes without number from the ever versatile Doctor; and roars of good-natured fun, which he provoked, made us oblivious of the naked landscape, as yet with little more than a hint here and there of the coming springtime.

We had summer along with us, however, if good nature and pleasant chat can symbolize the warmth and comfort of that happy season. The ladies'

bonnets and wraps, discovered by the Reverend Doctor in one of the staterooms, made impromptu material for much rapid-change dramatic performances, exquisitely absurd, and altogether entertaining. On we sped, with our jolly company, through New Jersey, rich and populous; on to Philadelphia, our great city neighbor, which, however, seems to most of us as far distant and unknown as Mars or the moon. Yet what a happy home place it is to those who dwell therein, and know the many advantages of its vast area, and consequent freedom from tenement drawbacks and other evils which we know too well. On we went through old Wilmington on the Delaware, with its red brick sidewalks and black lounging denizens; on through Baltimore, famous for good living and beautiful women; until in the afternoon we reached Washington and looked with admiration at the stately Capitol in the distance, with its splendid and graceful dome, and gazed with a sort of awe at the far-off Washington monument, that huge white obelisk, so gigantic, so spectral, so magnificent, but which is yet so chimney-like in its immensity as to be almost forbidding, if not revolting, to the aesthetic sense. I presume, though, that a nearer approach to the vast structure would overawe us with its colossal appearance. I have been told that the effect of that unbroken shaft near by, eighty feet wide at its base, and mounting skyward without a break, in perfect plainness, for five hundred and fifty-five feet, is almost supernatural and overwhelming.

The very sight of the Capitol could not but bring to our hearts the great crisis which was there impending. The huge dome seemed, as it were, to cover in the great brain of the nation struggling with the question, "Is America to engage in war? Is the nation which stands most for peace and humanity to enter on a career of aggressive arms?" It seemed an added wonder to our "Flight in Spring" that we were entering thereon at such a momentous time. But life flows on in many currents; and no matter what great crises may occur in human affairs; duties, and even pleasures, have each their place, and draw us after them in either work or play.

II

On through the South.--Thomasville, Georgia.--Dr. Humphrey's Winter Home.--Southern Flowers.--The Old Plantation.--War Declared.--They Leave To-day.

Soon after leaving Washington the night came on, but ere darkness settled down upon us, we had already seen the fresh verdure, and the trees and flowers in full, radiant bloom.

Night closed in as we whirled on through the Southern land. We took the Atlantic Coast line, pa.s.sing through many historic spots, well worth a stay; but our destination was Thomasville, Georgia, where we were to join our good host, Dr. Humphreys and his family, and rest with him at his winter home for a day or so, before starting on our full trip from New Orleans, by the Sunset Route, directly west, for Los Angeles.

Our stay in Thomasville was delightful. We found ourselves at home in the broad ample residence of our good host. The house is a large, one-story, double structure, standing in its own s.p.a.cious grounds. A large hall, more than ninety feet long, runs through the midst of it.

There we spent two days with our host, enjoying every moment of our stay. Flowers and roses were on every hand, and great trees with grateful shade, and the songs of many birds, and the pealing laughter of young folk, and the quiet happiness of those who loved to see others happy all about them.

The poetry and sentiment of the time, the place, the occasion, seemed to me to be symbolized in a lovely bouquet of wild flowers presented by Thomasville friends--Colonel and Mrs. Hammond--to our dear host and hostess, as a tender floral _bon voyage_. It was truly a thing of beauty in its rich and unstudied simplicity, made up of a great spray of wild pink azalea, and another of a flowering ash called Old Man's Beard. The silver threads of the latter fell over the exquisite color and finished form of the azalea, and all was overtopped by a branch of flaring crimson honeysuckle. It was both magnificent and dainty, all at once, and had the added beauty of most utter simplicity. It was merely a handful, plucked at random, from the abundant beauty of the rich Southern forest. I fancy, however, that an ordinary eye might have pa.s.sed by the exquisite possibility of the Southern blooms, and that the unerring taste and tender sentiment of the givers were necessary factors in procuring such a perfect floral offering, so appropriate and so beautiful.

We had another great treat while at Thomasville, in a drive out to a Southern plantation of the old-time type. How sad and silent, though, it all seemed! It was like a charmed castle, waiting for the arrival of some one whose footsteps should quicken all to life again. There it stood, all ready for an awakened hospitality, at a moment's notice. We wandered through the great parlors, the s.p.a.cious bedrooms, and out on the shaded balconies and verandas, peopling all, in imagination, with the home happiness for which it seemed so well prepared. The ample portico, with its great pillars; the luxuriant trees; the stately, silent house, and the tangle of roses and creeping plants made a picture long to be remembered. It did not seem quite right to romp and frolic in such a place, but such is the limit of our nature that one always loves and longs for contrasts; that is the reason, doubtless, why we awoke the echoes with many peals of ringing laughter and good fun. The ever-present kodak had its own share in our comedy, and brought away a shadow of our sport in the picture of "Rebekah at the Well."

The time came all too quickly for our departure from Thomasville. Even in our short stay we were charmed by the visits of many friends, among them some old acquaintances of other places and other times. We met, too, the genial editor of the "Daily Times-Enterprise," and found our departure duly mentioned in the issue of Sat.u.r.day evening, April 16, 1898. It contained also the stupendous announcement of the certain opening of the war with Spain, which appeared in these startling head lines:

UNITED STATES ARMY ORDERED TO COAST

FIFTY THOUSAND VOLUNTEERS TO BE ORDERED OUT NEXT

SENATE STILL IN CONTINUOUS SESSION

But They Are Warming Up.--Money Calls Wellington a Liar.--The Queen Regent Contributes $200,000 to Equip Army and Navy.--Official Denial that European Powers Will Interfere.--Spain Says She Will Never Evacuate Cuba.--Uncle Sam Buying More War Ships.

Separated from the above, with the telegraphic detail following, was another head line which read:

"THEY LEAVE TO-DAY."

Any one would, on a hasty glance, suppose that these words referred to the movements of the United States army, but they did not; they were spoken of _our departure_, on that afternoon, for New Orleans and the Pacific Coast. Here is what followed the startling line, and as it introduces our party in full and by name, we give it _in extenso_:

"THEY LEAVE TO-DAY."

"Dr. Frederick Humphreys and his party will leave to-day for an extended tour on the Pacific Coast.

"The following is the _personnel_ of the party: Dr. and Mrs.

Frederick Humphreys, the Misses Hayden, Mr. J. F. Hanson, Rev.

Dr. D. Parker Morgan, of the Church of the Heavenly Rest, New York, and Mrs. Morgan; Canon J. Harris Knowles, of St.

Chrysostom's, one of the Chapels of Trinity Church, New York; the Misses Harding, of New York; Mr. Frank P. Payson and Miss Sanford, of Brooklyn; and Miss Jayta Humphreys and Mr.

Frederick Humphreys, of New York, the latter two being grandchildren of Dr. and Mrs. Humphreys.

"All the party, except Dr. and Mrs. Humphreys, the Misses Hayden, and Mr. Hanson, arrived here on Thursday, in the private car 'Lucania,' a palace on wheels, in which the tour will be made.

"Dr. Humphreys spent yesterday in showing his guests some of the attractive drives and scenery in and around the town. And they could not have had the guidance of one more familiar with this charming winter resort, or one more competent to tell of its many attractions. The good doctor has been a great friend of Thomasville, and all our people will cordially join us in the wish that he may spend many more happy winter months at his pretty home on Dawson Street. He has done much for the place, and it is duly appreciated by all cla.s.ses of our citizens.

"The party will leave in the 'Lucania' this afternoon at 2.35.

The itinerary will embrace the following princ.i.p.al points: New Orleans, San Antonio, El Paso, Los Angeles, San Diego, Santa Barbara, San Francisco, Monterey, San Jose, Ogden, Salt Lake City, Glenwood Springs, Colorado Springs, Denver, Kansas City, and St. Louis. Stops of more or less length will be made at all these points. New York will be reached on the 25th of May.

"It will be a most delightful, interesting, and instructive outing. We trust it may be made without a single mishap, and that the party may all reach their Northern homes in safety, and that when memory calls up its scenes and incidents, Thomasville, clothed in its fresh garments of spring, with its countless flowers, its balmy air and blue skies, will have a place in the picture."

We can hear the cheery voice of our editorial friend, Captain Triplett, in all these lines, full of kindness and good feeling.

III

Departure from Thomasville.--Pet Superst.i.tions.--Montgomery, Alabama.-- The Capitol.--The Public Fountain.--Montgomery to New Orleans.

It seemed as if we were commencing our journey in dead earnest as we were leaving Thomasville. Our party was complete, and we were all settled in our special places for the trip, our luggage and bags all in ship-shape order. The day, too, was Sat.u.r.day, the 16th; hence our real beginning was not, after all, on the fatal "13th," when we left New York. Some of us had little pet superst.i.tions about numbers. Sixteen, however, seemed to satisfy all parties. It was composed of seven and nine, and had also in it two eights and four fours. Here was completeness and perfection, besides the mystery and infinity of the sacred seven and the thrice perfect nine.

On our way from New York, had we not also a bad omen? The end extension step of our car got ripped off at one of the stations; and as we were also shunted about a little at Thomasville, just before starting, rip went the other step. There was suppressed gloom at these accidents; but the said gloom was all dispersed when, some hours after, we were detained by a broken bridge. "There," said one of the ladies, "that is the third accident since we left. We are all safe now." Although the third accident was to a bridge, and not to our car, it, however, answered all purposes, and set us completely at rest.