There he lived in noble
simplicity; there he died in glory and peace.
While it stands, the latest generations of the grateful
children of America will make this pilgrimage to it as
to a shrine, and when it shall fall, if fall it must,
the memory and the name of Washington shall shed an
eternal glory on the spot.
- EDWARD EVERETT.
CHAPTER IV
LANCASTER COUNTY AND GETTYSBURG
One of the most pleasant, recollections of travelers in
Pennsylvania will be their trip through Lancaster county. For
fifty years this county has led the United States in the value
of cereal products. Lancaster, the county seat, has a population
of fifty-eight thousand. It is one of the oldest towns in the
state and was its capital in 1799. It was also the capital of
the United States for one day, September 27, 1777.
We resolved to keep close watch as we drove across this
wonderful agricultural county to see what we could learn of the
methods employed in producing such bountiful crops. Surely, we
thought, here will be a region lacking many of the beauties of
rural communities. But what was our surprise when we found fine
homes embowered in grand old trees. The dooryards contained many
trees, shrubs and flowers - not cluttered up, but most admirably
arranged, showing forethought and good taste. Then, the glowing
masses of the flower-bordered gardens were a quaint commingling
of use and beauty. "Squares of onions, radishes, lettuce,
rhubarb, strawberries - everything edible," reminded one of the
lovely weedless vegetable plots of the Rhine country. Theirs
seemed the homes which Gene Stratton Porter described in her
incomparable manner in her "Music of the Wild." "Peter Tumble-
down" has long ago moved from Lancaster county and only a few
distant relatives yet remain.
We were delighted to find large barns in which the implements
were sheltered. Nearly all contained coats of paint and the
stables were whitewashed, giving an added appearance of
cleanliness to the place as well as destroying lice and vermin.
Everything spoke of thrift. The manure was not thrown out in the
barnyard but stored under sheds. The straw was kept in the
barns. Noticing these things we began to learn that aside from
good soil it was also good sense that made this the garden spot
of the United States. Tobacco, so impoverishing to the soil, is
still raised here on farms that have known cultivation two
hundred years.
It is more refreshing than mountain scenery to behold such homes
as you find here. The highways were not bordered by unsightly
weeds but had been mown. These thrifty farmers were not afraid
that they would spend their last days in the poorhouse if they
chanced to leave a few shade trees standing; so, in many places
along the highways, lovely maples and graceful elms make of
them, instead of furnaces, a traveler's paradise. Thus we
learned that those who combine use and beauty are not financial
failures and live happier and longer than the people who "see no
beauty and hear no songs and fail to perpetuate them for the
future generations."
"For he who blesses most is blest;
And God and man shall own his worth
Who toils to leave as his bequest
An added beauty to the earth."
The motorist will find an ideal road from Baltimore to
Gettysburg. He will see a beautiful and fertile agricultural
country whose well kept homes speak of refinement and prosperity
among the people. It was over this wonderful highway that we
sped while on our way to the famous town.
We entered Gettysburg at nightfall, passing the house where
General Meade had his headquarters. The sky was overcast in the
early part of the evening and now the rain began to fall. It was
too dark to make out the flag as it rose and fell over the
little house. But as we peered through the uncertain light, a
flash of lightning revealed the banner, which at once spoke an
emblematic language too powerful for words. Darkness swallowed
it up again; but we knew that for those stars gleaming on their
field of blue, and for the purification of its white stripes
that had been blackened by slavery, these charming ridges about
us had been washed in the blood of thousands of our fair land.
We had to detour on account of the repair of sewers. Red
lanterns warned the traveler of danger, but it seemed as if they
spoke not of the dangers of the present but of those graver
dangers that once had been. We spent the night at the Eagle
Hotel. The rain continued to fall and by its soothing patter on
the leaves and roof above us we were ushered into the land of
dreams.
The next morning we met the father of Lieutenant Ira Ellsworth
Lady who was one of the first of Pennsylvania's loyal sons from
Adams county to offer the supreme sacrifice in the World War.
The Post of the American Legion at Arendtsville is named in his
honor.
Alas! How poor, how futile are words to express the nobleness of
those young men, the fairest and purest our land could offer. In
cases like this there is not much to be said. As we picked up
the hat that dropped from trembling hands unnoticed to the
floor, we thought what a sad Christmas the year 1918 brought to
this home. Then we thought, too, how in the last moments of his
earthly sojourn Lieut. Lady had wandered back to the lovely
hills and the old homestead with its dear remembered faces in
his native county.
Our first meeting was in the Evacuation Hospital at Glorenx;
almost within the shadows of the frowning citadel of Verdun.
