114 THE CAROLINA MOUNTAINS 
road, a picnic to the young people at least, who one 
can well believe looked forward to it undaunted by 
any thought of the possible storms that might put 
the rivers in flood, and convert the roads, even the 
best of them, in places, into bottomless sloughs of 
red and liquid mud, a procession that makes one 
think of the stories of far-away times, when queens 
and princesses traveled from one city to another over 
roads as bad as these. This procession up the moun- 
tains had fewer trappings on the horses and less gayly 
attired escort than did those of the olden time ; but 
we may be sure that the carriages of the gentlefolk 
of the nineteenth century were pleasanter convey- 
ances than the mule litters of the Middle Ages, and 
we may also be sure that no lovelier faces looked out 
from the gorgeous retinue on its way across the hills 
of the past than could be seen in the carriages where 
sat the ladies of the New World, with their patrician 
beauty and their gracious manners. And although 
the escort of the New World travelers did not num- 
ber a thousand gayly dressed cavaliers, it consisted 
of a retinue of those ebony children of the sun, who 
loved the pleasant journey, and loved their gentle 
lords and ladies, — for all this happened in those 
halcyon days "before the war" when the angel of 
wrath had not yet righted the wrong of holding even 
a black man in subjection to the will of another, 
and when the real "quality" cherished their slaves 
and were greatly loved by them. 
It must have been like coming to Arcadia, up from 
the heated plains, in those days before the forests 
