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National Geographic : 1950 May
Contents
Mlr. Jefferson's Charlottesville "Our quarantine pasture," said Dick, point ing over a fence, "where we keep new cattle until they've been tested for tuberculosis, Bang's disease, and such. We've won a State gold seal every year for a clean herd." Back at the barn, he showed me a dis pensary. Neatly lined up were bottles marked "inoculant," "castor oil," and "fly spray." From a closet he brought out a big panel of colored ribbons. I counted 136 prizes, 19 purples for champions, and 62 blues for best in age group. The covering glass in the frame was broken. "One of the bulls took a look and put his horns through it!" explained Dick. Only Indians and Carters Have Owned Redlands Capping a knoll on the southern tip of Carter's Mountain stands Redlands, a charm ing old home that has sheltered the Carter family for five generations. "Redlands has never been owned by anyone but the Indians and ourselves," Robert Hill Carter told me. Mr. Carter himself is the fourth Robert to preside over Redlands. Knowing that the Carters live also in Rich mond, I asked which place they consider home. With a lively smile Mrs. Carter answered. "'Deed, I'm living on the road between!" Redlands too reveals Jefferson touches. As we passed from its square center hall into the oval drawing room, we saw tiny concealed stairways like Monticello's squeezed in the corners between. Beyond the windows, so tall they dwarfed us, wooded hillsides and green pastures wavered in the antique glass. In each tremendous room, with its lofty ceil ing, stands a big fireplace, its mantel adorned with tobacco-leaf motif. Carter ancestors peer from the walls. Priceless heirlooms fill the rooms, some of them originals from Jef ferson's home. "Monticello would like to have back Mr. Jefferson's marble-topped table, his French mirror, and a shield-back chair he ordered for the White House. We plan to present them soon, after we have had duplicates made. "But most of our finest pieces came from Margaret Smith, who married the second Robert Carter," Mrs. Carter told me. "She was the daughter of Gen. John Spear Smith of Baltimore. "Many of her brothers' friends stopped at Redlands towards the end of the Civil War; she fed as many as 60 Confederate soldiers at one time! In a battered trunk we found twenty swords with such inscriptions as 'First Maryland Regiment.' We gave some to the Maryland Historical Society, and others to the Confederate Museum in Richmond. My sons kept a couple to decorate their college rooms. "In the lean postwar years, it looked as if the family might lose Redlands. Two of my husband's aunts, the Misses Polly and Sally Carter, resolved not to let this happen. While their mother took in boarders, they taught classes and later founded fashionable St. Timothy's School in Catonsville, Mary land. With money saved from teaching, they clung to the house" (page 557). From a mahogany highboy Mr. Carter pulled out a yellowed parchment. It was one of the three original land patents deeded by George II of England to Secretary John Car ter in the 1730's. The 10,000-acre grant com prised most of Carter's Mountain and bordered Monticello. We walked through the garden laid out in its original plan. Petunias, four-o'clocks, and ageratum filled the beds. "We've had a family of displaced Estonians as gardeners since the last war," said Mrs. Carter. "The man doesn't understand Eng lish too well. So we brought out old sketches showing beds of Maltese cross design. He got the idea right away, and now our gardens look much as they did. "Last year some architectural students at the University came out to study Redlands. They noticed its massive masonry--the roof is so strong it would hold another floor. One remarked, 'Why, these rafters look like the deck beams of a ship.' That was interesting, I thought, because the father of Redlands' builder was a sailing captain. He visited his son between voyages. No doubt he gave the 22-year-old boy shipbuilding pointers. "Incidentally, when the University opened for classes in 1825, Robert Hill Carter. my husband's grandfather, meant to be the first student to matriculate. But he woke up too late and got there second!" Red Mud to Bricks After several days of steady rain we woke one morning to find the fields shining emerald in the sunlight. I walked down to the brook, rushing at twice its normal speed. Our road to the barn was furrowed with watery ruts where the truck was stuck a couple of days before. A small boy and girl were sliding barefoot in the slippery ooze. Intrigued, I doffed my own shoes and joined them. We floundered pleasantly in the sticky mass, then rinsed off the red clay in the brook (page 583). From this sparkling red mud were baked the bricks for Monticello. Brookhill, and other old Albemarle County houses. Even today 569
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