OCR
WHITE MARSH MOLLOWING the Tidewater Trail from Gloucester Court House for six miles southward over a hard sand and shell road, one’s attention is arrested by Ba) an imposing entrance which leads through a cano4) (4) pied avenue of such magnificent oaks, that the midSa] day sun tapestries the driveway with shadows. These monarchs of Nature’s own planting guard the approach to White Marsh for half a mile. One is impressed with the majesty of the scene, and the silence unbroken except for the twitter of birds. Here was once the playground of the Red Man, who must have sighed at going, as did Boab-dil looking back once more upon his beloved Alhambra. The main entrance, to the left of the lawn, discloses a circular driveway leading to the high-pillared house gleaming white against its background of crepe myrtle and magnolia. From the portico, another vista is seen through the lawn of twenty acres, where leafy branches from the Orient lock arms with those of the Occident in a brotherhood of blended beauty. Forty-seven magnolia grandiflora, averaging twelve inches in diameter, lend grandeur, winter and summer, to lawn and gardens. Crepe myrtles, hoary with age, send their naked branches, capped with feathery blossoms of white, lavender and rose, high among the limbs of towering trees. The bronze beech is here, the European horse chestnut, scarlet hawthorne, English yew and walnut. The varnish tree, white and black ash, sweet gum, elm, linden, tulip tree, locust, sycamore, and, practically every species of oak, maple, and pine interlace their branches over acres of greensward! It is marvelous how abundantly the grass grows beneath so dense a shade. Trees—mayjestic trees, everywhere! [167]