Furmidable Foes

9

May 29, 2019

Wednesday

Looking over the horseshoe flower garden in back of the big house at Montpelier, Harry was struck by how simple yet elegant it was. A party was usually held on this lawn surrounded by the flowers on Dolley Madison’s birthday, May 20. The beloved lady was born in 1768.

The kitchen garden in the distance testified to how practical President Madison had been. Distinguishing themselves from English garden imitations, he created semicircular terraces for vegetables and fruits.

Carlton Sweeny, the young assistant gardener, stood with Harry and Susan, pointing out shade and sunlight, how the sun moved around the food garden and the more formal garden.

“Dolley, like so many people, relaxed by gardening. Obviously she paid a great deal of attention to the sun, as did her gardeners.”

“Odd. She was a Quaker, opposed to slavery, yet married a slave owner,” Susan, who loved history, replied.

The handsome fellow, maybe early thirties, nodded. “He wasn’t happy with the situation either, but like so many, including in the North, they needed labor. It was the way of the times.” Carlton scanned the garden, which he adored.

“Mr. Sweeny, what got you interested in horticulture?” Harry asked.

“My mother and grandmother lived in our garden. Ever watch two grown women fight over begonias?” He laughed. “But I didn’t really know there was a future in it. I went to Tech, found my way to the forestry department. I wanted to dig in the dirt, I guess. So I was accepted at a horticultural college in England. If there’s one thing the English know, it’s gardening.” He beamed.

“They’ve been at it longer than we have.” Harry smiled.

Smiling back, he said, “Yes. Have either of you ever seen Versailles?” Both nodded so he continued. “The ultimate expression of our dominion over Nature, false though that idea may be. It’s stunning, but I belong with climbing roses, you know?” He grinned. “Dolley’s climbing roses.”

“There are revolutions in every activity and gardening began to change thanks to Inigo Jones and Capability Brown down to Gertrude Jekyll.” Susan, as always, knew her history. “And here we are.”

“Did you really study with the Duchess of Rutland?” Harry remembered what she’d been told.

“She graciously endured me. Finding Capability Brown’s plans, his last big commission before his death, is one of those extraordinary moments. I learned so much. The duchess wrote a book, Capability Brown and Belvoir. It’s very good.”

“Mr. Sweeny…”

“Oh please, call me Carlton. I’m happy to be with two people who are serious gardeners.”

“You must come to Big Rawly. There’s a lot remaining from the original plans.” Susan, who had met him in passing when at Montpelier, had not had the chance to really talk to him. Plus he was handsome. Of course, she loved her husband, but looking at a handsome man is ever so pleasurable.

“Thank you. I’d be curious. Didn’t you all find skeletons in the last few days? I’m sure I read that, but it’s high spring here so a lot slips away. Intense work. Everything is waking up but, hey, no nematodes, no rust. Life’s good.” He felt a cool breeze cross his face. “Allyson, my boss, will be happy.” He mentioned Montpelier’s curator of horticulture.

“We did find bones,” Susan answered. “Don’t know a thing yet and probably won’t for some time. I expect the Original Thirteen are filled with secrets. We must be walking over them every day.”

“True enough. Religion was so important in those days. Giving someone a proper burial, no matter how poor, was the thing to do, which means an unattended grave, or one we don’t know, is a red flag.”

“You never know what will happen next,” Susan rejoined, “or who will do it. Well, to change the subject, when do you think Dolley’s roses will open?”

“M-m-m, another ten days at the most. Even though it’s the end of May, we can’t discount a cold snap. It’s the nighttime temperatures that really cause the delay. Are your roses open yet?”

Susan answered, “My tea roses are.”

“Now, there’s an old, old rose.” He smiled.

“Me, too,” Harry replied. “My lilacs were fabulous this year. Have both the old kind and the Italian. And last year they barely bloomed.”

“You fertilize, I’m sure.” He spoke as though to a fellow gardener, which she was, but not at his level.

“I use compost. Have horses.”

“Ah.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “We try to use only what would have been available to the Madisons, but given the amount of people who visit here from all over the world, sometimes I’m tempted to dip into modern fertilizers. They do the job, no question, plus you don’t battle as many weeds. Let me take you all to the dependencies.” He started walking, then stopped to clarify. “Slave quarters.”

They smiled at him. “We’re all Virginians. ‘Dependency’ is the eighteenth-century word.” Harry walked on his left side while Susan took up the right. “Were your people slaves here?”

“They were. I think it’s one of the reasons I love it here. I feel close, I see their handiwork, and, to be fair, I see what the Madisons accomplished as well. Plus Montpelier has a gifted director in Kat Imhoff. She sees the big picture. The programs here include all manner of subjects, of people. Allyson leads twilight trail hikes in our Landmark Forest. Madison was our first environmentally alert president. It’s one of the reasons Montpelier differs from Mount Vernon and Monticello. Not that those men degraded the environment, but Madison truly thought about it. There isn’t a day that I don’t learn something new, and often from a visitor.”

“It’s still a jolt for me to visit Montpelier with the wings taken off,” Harry confessed. “God bless the duPonts for saving Montpelier. Those were their wings.”

Susan chimed in. “But to return all this to the time of the Madisons, well, it was probably the right thing to do, destroying the additions. Gives people an idea of what life was like.”

“Yes, it does.” They walked behind the big house, still imposing without the wings. “When you see how people lived then, whatever their station, you realize how spoiled we are.” He laughed again. “We walk into a room and flick a switch. We open a refrigerator, food. We turn up or down the thermostat and if the house is high tech, the thermostat takes care of itself. Anyone living then would think we live in paradise today.” He paused. “When I visited Belvoir, where the castle was originally built in the 1180s, I think, and rebuilt twice since then, that’s when I really grasped how young we are. Kind of overwhelming.”

“Yes, it is.” Susan agreed, then stopped. “The stone quarters are so symmetrical.”

“They had clear ideas about practicality and beauty. It’s simple. Again, it reminds me of how young we are as a nation, the simplicity.” Harry wondered, “Don’t you think simple is better?”

“For us, yes. But even one hundred years from now people will look backwards. We’ll probably seem a bit primitive.” He stopped. “Here’s the end of the more organized planning.” He swept his hand outward. “From here just native species.”

Both Harry and Susan stared at the expanse, then considered the amount of study and work that had gone into bringing Montpelier back to life.

“Incredible!” Susan exclaimed. “Beautiful.”

Carlton Sweeny had proved an engaging guide, a young man who knew his stuff and loved his work. By the time the two dear friends drove back down to Crozet, their heads were stuffed full of facts, future plans, and new tips on how to maintain plant health.

“You know, I now realize I’ve been cutting back my hydrangeas too early,” Harry said.

“An enthusiastic young man. It’s one of the things Ned and I talk about, how many young people should study forestry, agriculture, horticulture. Critical areas. So many who go to college are focused on money. Someone needs to talk to them about a lifetime of fulfillment. I’m not sure pots of money are as fulfilling as what Carlton does.”

“Well, Susan, your two kids made the right choices. But I know what you mean. Seems like everyone wants to start a computer something, be a lawyer, or be a doctor.” She turned her head as they passed the drive into the GE Building north of Charlottesville. “Speaking of going into business.”

“The pendulum swings. Always will. Can GE recover its position? I don’t know. The mantra that companies are too big to fail is so much bull, you know?”

“I do.” Harry agreed. “But think about it. Including you and me, most Americans have never known want, violence, or savage repression. Is repression still with us? Of course, but not anything like what our grandparents observed or experienced. My worry is we’re soft. Everyone thinks that life will always be easy, at least so far as the basic needs are concerned.”

“Ease can often lead to bad decisions. Ned, a man who has never known want, tells me what really goes on in Richmond. Being a delegate has opened his eyes. He talks about the hidden poverty in Virginia. Is this a comfortable state? Sure, for most of us, but there are people here who have never seen a dentist.”

“Good Lord.” Harry inhaled.

“Speaking of how hard life can be, you know people lived up near the ridge behind your house. Not a lot, but families lived all along the Blue Ridge until the 1930s.”

“FDR removed all of them to make the Skyline Drive, the Parkway. Cruel, really.”

“You and I haven’t been up there since fall. Let’s go check the timber. Especially the hardwoods.”

“Sure.”