Or If The
Visitor Is Disinclined To Exertion, He May Lounge In The Rooms Of The
Hospitable Asheville Club; Or
He may sit on the sidewalk in front of
the hotels, and talk with the colonels and judges and generals
And
ex-members of Congress, the talk generally drifting to the new
commercial and industrial life of the South, and only to politics as
it affects these; and he will be pleased, if the conversation
takes a reminiscent turn, with the lack of bitterness and the
tone of friendliness. The negro problem is commonly discussed
philosophically and without heat, but there is always discovered,
underneath, the determination that the negro shall never again get
the legislative upper hand. And the gentleman from South Carolina
who has an upland farm, and is heartily glad slavery is gone, and
wants the negro educated, when it comes to ascendency in politics
- such as the State once experienced - asks you what you would do
yourself. This is not the place to enter upon the politico-social
question, but the writer may note one impression gathered from much
friendly and agreeable conversation. It is that the Southern whites
misapprehend and make a scarecrow of "social equality." When, during
the war, it was a question at the North of giving the colored people
of the Northern States the ballot, the argument against it used to be
stated in the form of a question: "Do you want your daughter to marry
a negro?" Well, the negro has his political rights in the North, and
there has come no change in the social conditions whatever. And
there is no doubt that the social conditions would remain exactly as
they are at the South if the negro enjoyed all the civil rights which
the Constitution tries to give him. The most sensible view of this
whole question was taken by an intelligent colored man, whose brother
was formerly a representative in Congress. "Social equality," he
said in effect, "is a humbug. We do not expect it, we do not want
it. It does not exist among the blacks themselves. We have our own
social degrees, and choose our own associates. We simply want the
ordinary civil rights, under which we can live and make our way in
peace and amity. This is necessary to our self-respect, and if we
have not self-respect, it is not to be supposed that the race can
improve. I'll tell you what I mean. My wife is a modest,
intelligent woman, of good manners, and she is always neat, and
tastefully dressed. Now, if she goes to take the cars, she is not
permitted to go into a clean car with decent people, but is ordered
into one that is repellent, and is forced into company that any
refined woman would shrink from. But along comes a flauntingly
dressed woman, of known disreputable character, whom my wife would be
disgraced to know, and she takes any place that money will buy. It
is this sort of thing that hurts."
We took the eastern train one evening to Round Nob (Henry's Station),
some thirty miles, in order to see the wonderful railway that
descends, a distance of eight miles, from the summit of Swannanoa Gap
(2657 feet elevation) to Round Nob Hotel (1607 feet). The Swannanoa
Summit is the dividing line between the waters that flow to the
Atlantic and those that go to the Gulf of Mexico. This fact was
impressed upon us by the inhabitants, who derive a good deal of
comfort from it. Such divides are always matter of local pride.
Unfortunately, perhaps, it was too dark before we reached Henry's to
enable us to see the road in all its loops and parallels as it
appears on the map, but we gained a better effect. The hotel, when
we first sighted it, all its windows blazing with light, was at the
bottom of a well. Beside it - it was sufficiently light to see that
- a column of water sprang straight into the air to the height, as we
learned afterwards from two official sources, of 225 and 265 feet;
and the information was added that it is the highest fountain in the
world. This stout column, stiff as a flagstaff, with its feathery
head of mist gleaming like silver in the failing light, had the most
charming effect. We passed out of sight of hotel and fountain, but
were conscious of being - whirled on a circular descending grade, and
very soon they were in sight again. Again and again they disappeared
and came to view, now on one side and now on the other, until our
train seemed to be bewitched, making frantic efforts by dodgings and
turnings, now through tunnels and now over high pieces of trestle, to
escape the inevitable attraction that was gravitating it down to the
hospitable lights at the bottom of the well. When we climbed back up
the road in the morning, we had an opportunity to see the marvelous
engineering, but there is little else to see, the view being nearly
always very limited.
The hotel at the bottom of the ravine, on the side of Round Nob,
offers little in the way of prospect, but it is a picturesque place,
and we could understand why it was full of visitors when we came to
the table. It was probably the best-kept house of entertainment in
the State, and being in the midst of the Black Hills, it offers good
chances for fishing and mountain climbing.
In the morning the fountain, which is, of course, artificial, refused
to play, the rain in the night having washed in debris which clogged
the conduit. But it soon freed itself and sent up for a long time,
like a sulky geyser, mud and foul water. When it got freedom and
tolerable clearness, we noted that the water went up in pulsations,
which were marked at short distances by the water falling off, giving
the column the appearance of a spine.
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