The James River Plantation Belt 



garden shrubbery. Included in the garden boundaries are the re- 

 mains of the old Confederate rampart. Fruit trees, flowers and 

 vegetables mingle and blend in friendly harmony. Straight and 

 direct paths are bordered with roses and perennials which look 

 happy and luxuriant. 



On the day of our visit, a border of fig trees was profligately 

 laden with fruit. The mistress of the garden told us she had been 

 preserving figs all day and the supply seemed undiminished. This 

 is the way of the happy fig tree. One of the visitors from a north- 

 ern clime was enraptured to be invited to gather as many ripe figs 

 as she wished, "I have never seen anything like it," she said. "Of 

 course, I have seen fig trees when I was in New Orleans covered 

 with bloom, but I never saw them in full fruit before," We 

 smilingly told her that these fig trees had never bloomed, and that 

 no other fig tree anywhere would be guilty of so flaunting and dar- 

 ing a thing as bursting into full bloom, unless, perhaps, that rare 

 variety she had seen in New Orleans. 



On the outskirts of the garden, near the little iron entrance gate, 

 is a clump of poet's laurel, Semele Androgyna, a daughter plant of 

 "Laurel of Westover." The glossy evergreen leaves and red ber- 

 ries made this a favorite evergreen of old-time gardens. The steep 

 river bank, which slopes from the lawn, is covered with tartarian 

 honeysuckle, crepe myrtle and clumps of evergreens; among these 

 and around the summit is a clump of Scotch broom brought over 

 from Scotland in 1790 by a friend, Mr. Robertson. 



Following the rim of the bluff we come to the rustic cedar 

 summer-house at the head of the steps that lead down to the boat 

 landing, A straight, arbored pathway, bordered with shrubs, leads 

 from here back to the house, and around the corner we catch a 

 glimpse of a tall pear tree, planted more than one hundred years 

 ago and still bearing generously. It nods to us in the breeze; we 

 feel friendly and at home. Let us tarry a while in the summer 

 arbor, listen to the sweet sounds of birds, watch a strange Insect 

 outline Japanesque tracery underneath the bark of the cedar post, 



[59] 



