Looking for Buried Treasure and Family Ghosts With A Cup of Tea? Meet the Curious Cox Curator of Orange Valley: the Eco-Cultural Green Knight of Bermuda!

Seared into the heart of the Bermudian landscape – into the brackish bosom of its Devonshire peat marshes — lies the buried treasure of an old sea captain – a magical, awe-inspiring sea chest wrested from the depths of Davy Jones’ Locker –  half-ghostship – half-house.

Docked alongside a pier of dry-stone walls – Hidden from view by a profusion of wild palmettos and cedars and evergreen fiddlewood trees—–this well-pressed twin-masted chimney structure with two-storied shuttered riggings and two centuries-old cedar beams across its hallway-like-foredeck neither lists today from hurricane-slashing barnacles or subtropical dry rot upon its hull – but rather this bewitching “house ship” is cocooned within a protective casing of the old sea captain’s making – ‘the jeweled fruits of his labor’ after years of sailing – many a citrus-flavored, life-extending plant traded from British Guiana, parts of the Caribbean and various ports of call on the Atlantic seaboard – known locally to all as “Orange Valley”.

Fate had once brought me here eleven years ago as an American expat but now here I was resolutely returning to present its curious owner, John Cox, the great-great-great grandson of Capt. William Cox — with a Green Knighthood Award – the First of its kind in the World – for thirty plus years of selfless acts of eco-cultural chivalry.

Entering thru the Front Room – one is immediately received by both the warm smile of its casually garbed curator and the rhythmically hospitable tick-tock behind him -Capt. William Cox’s prized possession – his mahogany-made 18th century grandfather clock brought over from London, England – one of a series of catenated ‘eco-links’ to the soul of the house.  Indeed there are ten clocks throughout the home and according to Mr. Cox “some work, some are beyond laboring, and some sit quietly, suspended in their own time.”

And to my right – not far from the drawing-room – I am greeted once again by the portrait of the mysterious Capt. William Cox himself – his eyes  still dazing upon the well-preserved and lovingly displayed dining accoutrements of holidays past – including his own pink and silver French tea set still scented by orange pomanders – whilst other paintings seem to bob and weave throughout the house – alternating between wind-blown ships of sail and pastoral settings of a Bermudian-like Eden – a chilling reminder perhaps of the great hurricanes of 1839, 1899, 1926, 1948, 1987, and most recently Hurricane Fabian of 2003.

Indeed, neither the charm of Mr. John Cox, nor his tenderly cared-for limestone-hewed home and woodland gardens that constitute ‘Orange Valley’, show any signs of weary-worn decay during these past eleven years nor have they lost their priceless ‘eco-cultural lustre’ – that harmonious union between human culture and ecological sustainability. To put it sociologically – there is a unique bond between the Cox Family’s ethical community practices of past and present with its own well-managed attendance of its natural ecosystem and the conservation of its unique biodiversity here at ‘Orange Valley’ – ever mindful of the climate, and the weather patterns, and the many generations to come.

Perhaps that is why the Family Ghosts love it here so – Three ghosts to be precise.*  The first spectral inhabitant to be noted for its whimsical hauntings is that of Mary Robinson Cox, first wife of Capt. William Cox, who died of pneumonia at the young age 41 in 1806 whilst her husband was away trading salt for sugar and molasses in the West Indies.  It is she who loves to hover around the first floor of the house – sometimes settling in the guest bedroom (formerly the original kitchen) conjuring up aromatic herbal brews and at other times, she is seen sailing thru the front hallway perhaps looking to welcome home her husband’s invisible footsteps. Next in line is Laura Cox, the spinster daughter of Capt. William Cox, who died of palsy at the premature age of 51 in 1861 and is now a lively Patroness ghost of her once beloved Rose Garden which had lain derelict for years but has been carefully restored.  And then there’s eccentric Aubrey Cox, the grandson of Capt. William Cox, who died of an anxious heart at the precipitous age of 67 in 1928 and who never ever tires of looking at the magnificent grounds below him from his tidy upstairs bedroom window in the back of the house.

I have often thought that ‘Uncle Aubrey’ is a ‘frustrated ghost’ – confined to his boxed-in quarters – having to grudgingly look from afar at his great-grand nephew’s (John Cox’s) splendiferously inviting outdoor afternoon tea party spreads from beneath a decidedly somber-crusted window sash – where splashes of colorful chinaware dancingly interplay with light and laughter happily bee-buzzing around a quizzical cone-shaped ‘buttery’ next to me – another architectural wonder unique to Bermudian culture – a not-so-long ago reminder of the days when household plumbing, electricity, and refrigeration was not a commonplace feature of Bermudian life.

And never wanting to deny his guests a moment of light delectable humor along with his perfectly presented organic almond cake and Bermudian-strengthened high tea, are — Mr. John Cox’s very own freshly prepared cucumber sandwiches with an eco-twist – brilliantly disguised orange nasturtium flowers squeezed into bits of triangular-baked bread servings that are commonly mistaken for bits of wild caught salmon by his gullible guests!  And as is required of the author of ten culturally rich historical books including “Life in Old Bermuda”, “At Home in Early Bermuda”, “Bermuda Lore”, “A Tale of Two Houses”, and “Lords of the Marshes” — one is never left bored or abandoned by the fanciful floodgate of stories of this raconteur’s repertoire.  And these stories, much like their annotated footnotes, are neither inseparable nor inconsequentially delineated from Bermuda’s unique ecosystem.  Indeed, the biodiversity of plants within these stories allows us to step into the past right into Bermuda’s golden era of sailing.  They often offer ‘green’ clues into Bermuda’s role within the context of the British Empire – and still others the status of the Cox Family itself.

And it is this Cox Family collection of plants that make Orange Valley what it is – a priceless outdoor ‘eco-museum’ – artfully complimented by Mr. John Cox’s decorative collection of fine Royal Sevres porcelain inside the home – each of which seems to have transported with it a superstitious tale of its own.  And in addition to the impressive array of fruit trees on the property – mandarins, sweet oranges, sour oranges, limes, lemons, guava, grapefruit, pears, peaches, pomegranates, mammy apples, large bananas, dwarf bananas, loquats, red figs, shaddocks and Surinam cherries – AND – one large black mulberry and one smyma fig – there is a maze of exotic trees to bedazzle the first-time visitor:

1)   There is the Royal Poinciana Tree, also known as “The Flame Tree”, or “The Flamboyant Tree”. It is a native of Madagascar and the world’s most colorful ornamental tree.

2)   Then there is the Indian Rubber Tree, a native of southeast Asia, first planted by Capt. William’s son in 1847 that marks the original carriageway to the house.

3)   Then there are the Coffee Trees native to subtropical Africa and southern Asia – No “Starbucks Coffee” needed here!

4)   And finally, there are the rare Black Ebony Trees, native to Africa, India, and Asia – known today for their variety of attributes in making fingerboards and keys for musical instruments.  Note that ‘Ebony’ is the Greek word for “Fruit of the Gods” and wands made of ebony were thought to have magical powers and drinking goblets made of ebony were considered an antidote for poison that could be used to ward off evil intent.

In closing, I am reminded of a taunt once aimed at me as a teenager by a high society friend out in west Texas upon my arrival at her new family home.  She had just moved from Los Angeles for the third time and to use the nautical vernacular, her boast  “knocked me down a peg” for she and her daddy had “never lived in a second-hand house”.   I had no answer at the time, having been, up-to-then, an insular 13th generation American living within the same 200 mile radius of the Eastern seaboard.

But I hope you, my eco-savvy reader, will now appreciate my rapid advancement in the ways of articulate etiquette – noting both the beauty and the history – AND – the ecological magic – that makes ‘Orange Valley’ an eco-cultural wonder and not just some ordinary half-spun ‘second-hand house’.   But above all, I must personally thank Orange Valley’s remarkable steward, Mr. John Cox, today’s recipient of Cherlton’s Green Guide’s “Green Knighthood Award” for his fearless and unflinching support, maintenance, and documented dissemination of Bermuda’s eco-cultural connections and traditions in the face of today’s ‘Bluetooth’, fast-paced, modern world of sentimental-swatting cyber gnats,  ‘Tick’ video games, and Mosquito iPods.  (For more information, please refer to my new encyclopedic eco-website at www.cherltonsgreen.com)

How metaphorically eco-appropriate then is the fact that the placement of Orange Valley’s lone silk cotton tree, first planted by Capt. William Cox two centuries ago, still firmly stands as the centerpiece of ‘Orange Valley’ – the oldest of its kind on the island – a much misunderstood tree by the casual passerby of Bermudian yesteryear.  Known elsewhere in the world as the ‘kapok’ tree, the ‘sacred tree’ or ‘the tree of life’, this fabled tree was first worshiped by the Mayans and later venerated by generations of other indigenous peoples of Central America in the centers of their plazas and villages.  To those who believe, this supernatural tree wards off evil (and time itself) and its mythical branches hold up the heavens and its roots extend to the underworld – and rarely, if at all – is this tree ever cut down – even if it happens to be in an inconvenient spot and in the way of human traffic.   So it is that the secret of the buried treasure of an old sea captain lies faithfully here.

Footnote: Legend has it that my own 8th great-grandfather, Thomas Cox, first arrived at Virginia before sailing up the coast to New Amsterdam and marrying Elizabeth Blashford on April 17, 1665 at Maspeth Kills, Newtown, Long Island. His marriage is the oldest marriage license on record in the state of New York – given by the First British Colonial Governor of New York, Sir Richard Nicolls.  Thomas Cox’s middle son in turn, was John Cox – my 7th great-grandfather – and John Cox’s nephew in turn was Colonel John Cox, Assistant Quartermaster to General Nathaniel Greene during the American War for Independence – and his grandson, in turn, was John Cox Stevens, the Founder and First Commodore of the New York Yacht Club.  Hence, there’s more to the ‘Cox’ surname than one would think at first glance.

*Special Note: There is the distinct possibility of a fourth ghost lingering around Orange Valley – that of Capt. William Cox’s own mother-in-law! For the present-day Coxes of Bermuda all descend from Capt. William Cox’s second wife, Mary Ann Dill, whom he married on October 16, 1806. Interesting enough, Mary Ann Dill, was the daughter of another enigmatic mariner, Captain John Dill of Devonshire, a time-honored member of the ancient ‘Dill clan’ of Bermuda, and his psychic wife, Christiana (Love) Dill – whose preternatural gifts of ‘second sight’ are as legendary as the number of times she has been seen floating over the various family estates in which her present-day descendants live.