University of North Carolina Chapel Hill - Yackety Yack Yearbook (Chapel Hill, NC)

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trees near Apex and Cary, while the smoke of the locomotives on the North Carolina and Raleigh and Augusta Air Line Railroads, curls gracefully in their tracks. Raleigh is about 200 feet lower than the eastern coast of the water- less sea, and is, therefore, invisible, but whenever sky-scraping rockets are sent up by its jovial citizens, their flame plainly flashes above the horizon. The wave of woods and cornfields, and the abodes of men scattered at inter- vals, in the wide expanse below the observer, remind him of Byron ' s Dream. On the crown of Piney Prospect Hill, within a circular area, is a round rock which is the mythical tomb of Dromgoole, who, disappearing from the University and having never been heard of afterward, legend hath it, was killed in a duel and buried underneath. About a hundred yards to the north is a stone block in the shape of a chair, just large enough for two, called the Lovers ' Chair. To the south, following a winding path which leads by the Rifle Pit dug; by Wheeler ' s Cavalry as they retreated before Kilpatrick ' s pursuing column, then going down the hill and crossing the Raleigh Road, the walker comes to Miss Fannie ' s Spring, by whose brink, according to Hamberlin ' s beautiful poem, Dromgoole and his ladylove of that name, often sat discoursing sweet nothings. Afterward, wailing his tragic death, she frequented the spot until she joined him in the spirit land. About a mile toward the northeast from Pinev Prospect, on what was evidently an islet in the ancient sea, is a copse of woods on a hillside. Near its center is a cluster of massive rocks, and in their midst is a rude chamber, closed on three sides and partially covered overhead by the beetling cliff . In this dismal retreat a runaway slave, named Tom Morgan, lay hidden for many months, emerging at night to subsist by robbery. Such terrorwas caused by his depredations that a force of men, armed with shot-guns, scoured the forest and succeeded in finding his hiding-place and capturing the robber. This is the Robber ' s Den, or Black Tom ' s Lair. With boyish curiosity I visited it the day after his capture and gazed with awe and pity on his bed of leaves, his shoemaker ' s bench, the charred fire-logs and the bones of pigs and fowls, relics of his lawless life. Toward the southeast in the valley, about a mile distant, is the plantation devised to the University by its last owner, Mrs. Mary Elizabeth (Morgan) Mason, for the education of poor students. The bequest she requested to be called after her daughters, Martha and Varina, who died just as they reached womanhood. The portraits in oil of the young ladies, and of her husband. Rev. James Pleasant Mason, are by her request hanging in the University Library, and the authorities have added hers to the collection. The planta- 16

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tion is one of the best in the county. On it is the burial lot of the family, in which, besides others, is a handsome white marble monument erected by the University in accordance with the wishes of the testatrix. On the south side of Morgan ' s Creek on this plantation, is one of the two famous Laurel Hills. Here in addition to trailing arbutus is a fine growth of the grand evergreen shrub, the botanical name of which is Rhododendron Catawbiense. Professor Asa Gray, in one of his books, says that this species never is found below eighteen hundred feet. But one of our professors, Dr. F. W. Simonds, sent him specimens and he promptly acknowledged his error. The other Laurel Hill is near the mill of Bennett and Oldham, which our old- est Alumni knew as Barbee ' s, our elderly Alumni as Cave ' s, and our middle- aged as King ' s Mill. To these hills annual pilgrimages are made by young men and maidens, intent on despoiling the plants of their beauteous treasures. Occasionally the dryads and naiads by way of punishment turn over the slip- pery stones in the creek-crossing under the tripping feet of the damsels and send them drenched and disconsolate homeward. They always emerge safely from the disaster, for where there ' s a IViV s there ' s a way out of all such troubles. Haifa mile above the mill is a lovely defile between verdured hills, where the water sings gaily among the sweet odors of yellow jasmine and the bright colors of woodbine. This is Otey ' s Retreat. Here, about three-quarters of a century ago, a young University tutor spent much of his time studying his books, or romantically recalling the image and the words of his ladylove, Miss Eliza Pannill. The lady was kindly and it was not many years before she journeyed to Tennessee, the wife of James Hervey Otey, Bishop of Tennessee. Higher up Morgan ' s Creek is Purefoy ' s Mill, famous in the old days, before railroads came, as Merritt ' s Mill, whose brand of flour was much sought after in our eastern counties. The pond here is a lovely sheet of water and is much used by the students when swimming or skating is the lashion. Still higher up this stream on its western bank is a notable hill declared by Professor Cobb to be the extinct crater of a volcano. Suspicion hath it that in this neighborhood, in a still wilder and more secluded spot, there was not very long ago another kind of cratur, not at all extinct, but alive with all the fiery headiness of moonshine old corn — whiskey. But Professor Cobb and his geological class did not chance to look that cratur in the mouth. We will now cross the ridge toward the north, and descend into the valley of Bowlin ' s Creek. Rising to the north we see the Iron Mountain, where excavations show a goodly quantity of valuable ore, but up to this time 17