"Land of forest-clad mountains, of fairy-like streams, Of low, pleasant valleys where the bright sunlight gleams Athwart fleecy clouds gliding over the hills, 'Midst the fragrance of pines and the murmur of rills.
"A land of bright sunsets, whose glories extend From horizon to zenith, there richly to blend The hues of the rainbow, with clouds passing by-- Right well art thou christened 'The Land of the Sky.'
"A land of pure water, as pure as the air; A home for the feeble, a home for the fair; Where the wild roses bloom, while their fragrance combines With health-giving odors from balsamic pines.
"The pure, healthful breezes, the life-giving air, The beauteous landscapes, oft new, ever fair, Are gifts that have come from the Father on high; To Him be all praise for 'The Land of the Sky.'"
In the early days of Congress, a North Carolina member, who was making a long speech for home consumption, observed that several of his colleagues, becoming tired, had gone out, whereupon he bluntly told those who remained that they might go out too, if so inclined, as he "was only talking for Buncombe." This member, whose remark has become immortal as the title of a certain type of Congressional oratory, represented the county of Buncombe, which embraces a large portion of the "The Land of the Sky," and Asheville is the county-seat. This town has a permanent population of twelve thousand, and is one of the most elevated towns east of Denver, being at a height of nearly twenty-three hundred feet above the sea. It is built in the attractive valley of the French Broad River, surrounded by an amphitheatre of magnificent hills, and commands one of the finest mountain views in this country. The Swannanoa unites with the French Broad just above the town in a charming locality; there are various pleasant parks; and the tree-shaded streets are adorned by many fine buildings. To Asheville come the Northerner for equable mildness in winter and the Southerner for coolness in summer, the climate being dry and bright, and most restorative in lung and other similar troubles, while the whole surrounding region has had its scenic attractions made available by improved roads and paths. About two miles to the southeast is George Vanderbilt's noted chateau of Biltmore, the finest private residence in the United States, built upon the verge of a princely estate covering a hundred thousand acres of these glens and mountains. The house, which commands magnificent views, stands upon a terrace seven hundred feet long and three hundred feet wide, and cost $4,000,000, while nearly as much more is said to have been expended in constructing many miles of drives over the estate and in landscape gardening and improvements, which in time will make this one of the world's greatest show places. The building is an extensive French baronial hall of the days of King Francis I., elaborated from the chateaux of the Loire, exceedingly rich in every detail, and having the general effect heightened by the free employment of decorative sculpture. From the grand esplanade the outlook is upon the "wild tumult of mountains stretching away in every direction." There are various other fine houses in the Asheville suburbs, and the locality is steadily improving through the attractions it has for men of wealth who love a home amid the grandest charms of Nature. Routes have been opened in various directions from Asheville to develop the mountain district. One railroad goes for a hundred miles through the gorges and valleys southwestward along the base of the Great Smoky range. Another route is southeast through the romantic pass of the Hickory-nut Gap, where the Rocky Broad River penetrates the Blue Ridge, a splendid canyon of nine miles, with cliffs rising fifteen hundred feet and having the remarkable Chimney Rock built on high alongside the gorge, where it stands up an isolated sentinel. Bald Mountain, rising opposite, is celebrated in Mrs. Burnett's _Esmeralda_. Cæsar's Head, to the southward, is an outlier of these mountain ranges, bordering the lowlands; and standing on top of its southern brow, upon a precipice rising almost sheer for fifteen hundred feet, one can overlook the lower regions of South Carolina and Georgia for more than a hundred miles away.