After taking a lunch, we sat off early in the afternoon, with a
crowded stage, for the Red Sulphur, seventeen miles west of the Salt.
Our road wound by a very circuitous route, to the summit of the small
mountain, in the rear of the Salt Sulphur. On our left, as we
ascended, the mountain's side became quite precipitous, and at the
base and immediately beneath us, lay the valley of the springs--its
green lawn and white cottages presenting a most interesting and
beautiful scene. This is one of the favorite strolling spots of
visiters, since the view which it affords of the springs and the
adjoining country, fully compensates for the labor of climbing the
mountain. We believe, however, that most of our company would have
preferred a situation on _terra firma_, to that which they occupied in
the stage coach, which ever and anon, as it slowly grated over the
rough and rocky way, gave fearful symptoms of carrying us down the
dizzy steep which we had gained.
A great part of the road between the Salt and Red Sulphur, leads over
long hills and continuous ridges, out of the sides of which it has
been in many places cut, in order to obtain the proper inclination.
From some reason, most probably a scarcity of funds, the road is so
narrow as to render it often dangerous, and entirely unsuitable for so
public a thoroughfare. The reflections of the traveller, as he dashes
down these narrow descents, are by no means pleasant. He involuntarily
transfers himself to the upper side of the stage, as he gets a glimpse
from the window, of the deep ravine, along the verge of which he is
rolling at so furious a rate. The anticipation too, as well as the
actual fact, of meeting other vehicles in these passes, is not at all
agreeable. The driver of the coach, however, obviates, as far as
possible, the difficulty from this source, by sounding his horn as he
approaches and travels through these narrow parts of the road.
Perhaps, however, we are conveying rather too unfavorable an
impression of the way between the Salt and Red Sulphur. If, however,
the traveller wishes to avoid all unpleasant reflections on account of
his personal safety, it may be as well for him to adopt one of the
expedients of the hero of "Sleepy Hollow," as he trod its gloomy
paths, amidst the tortures of a fertile imagination, and shut his
eyes, at least, if the presence of fellow passengers will not admit of
one's raising his voice in a consolitary _solo_. We can, however,
present to our readers, the prospect of a resource, which will be a
more satisfactory expedient than this. Arrangements were making during
the last summer, for the immediate construction of a turnpike over
this ground; then the trip would present many attractions. The country
is wild and generally uncultivated, and often delightfully romantic.
About half way between the two springs, we saw the wreck of the family
carriage of a gentleman from South Carolina. This accident, however,
was not, at least, the _immediate_ consequence of the roughness of the
road; for it occurred on a perfect level, and on, perhaps, the
smoothest part of the whole way. Carriages constructed for the
Carolina sands, are badly adapted to the mountains of Virginia.
Our driver quickened his speed as the distance before us diminished,
and we reached the Red Sulphur just after night had drawn his sombre
curtains around the silent hills. Our first impressions of this
spring, were very favorable: the effect was exceedingly imposing. On
our arrival the whole establishment had been lighted up, and from
every range of buildings, streams of light were pouring across the
area. The large hotel presents at any time a beautiful appearance. The
whole building has a light and airy piazza connected with each story,
and on the flank of the edifice most conspicuous on approaching the
spring, the upper floor is open and surrounded by a balustrade. The
first story of this building contains a large dining room, connected
with which is a drawing and reading room. When we approached, these
piazzas were all lighted up, and from the doors and windows of the
halls and apartments of the hotel, the chandeliers were pouring forth
their brilliant streams. Two long and handsomely set tables, were
visible through the doors of the dining room, and every thing had the
aspect of comfort and even of luxury. The lower piazza was thronged
with cheerful groups of visiters, eagerly awaiting the arrival of our
coach, which on that evening was rather behind its usual time.
For the last hour our meditations had been excited only by the gloom
and wildness of the dark mountain hollows, and the song of the frogs
from the neighboring creeks, or the cry of the screech owl as the
rattling of our coach echoed through his dark domains. In the midst of
the pensive reveries incident upon such circumstances, the buildings
of the Red Sulphur burst upon us in all their brilliancy. The scene of
light, and life, and bustle, came over us like enchantment. The valley
before us presented a picture of brightness and refinement, whilst on
each side the venerable peaks of the Alleghany rose in all their
wildness, and spoke to our hearts in silent sublimity, as we discerned
their rugged outline against the evening sky. One might have found it
almost difficult to convince himself, that he was not taking for
reality the romantic visions of his sleeping hours. This impression is
not diminished by the winding of the post horn from the "western
stage," as it rattles over the crags of the mountain above, or by the
plaintive notes of "Home, sweet home," wafted from the band stationed
in the drawing room.
The Red Sulphur has recently been purchased by Mr. Burke, an
intelligent and enterprising gentleman, who has already given to the
place an almost entirely new aspect. Many of the old houses have been
removed--a large and beautiful building, in addition to the hotel, has
been constructed, and most of the log cabins have been exchanged for
neat white cottages. The irregularity occasioned by the projection of
the mountain spurs, has prevented the arrangement of the buildings in
the order calculated to produce the most pleasant effect. The Red
Sulphur is completely enclosed by mountains, except a narrow space by
which you enter the circumscribed valley. On each side they rise
almost perpendicularly to a considerable height. One of these, we
understand, the proprietor intends laying out with terraced walks, so
that you can with ease ascend to the summit, and enjoy the extensive
prospect. The buildings are erected close under the base of the
mountains. The intermediate area will be set in green sward, with
gravelled walks and shrubbery. The temple at the spring is very
similar to those at the White and Salt Sulphur. There are, however,
two springs, and two separate and beautiful reservoirs. One of these
is about four, and the other about two feet square. They are
constructed of white marble, which agrees beautifully with the lilac
and peach blossom sediment, and the clear limpid water of the springs.
The Red Sulphur, though but lately improved for the comfortable
accommodation of visiters, has been for some years known as a place of
considerable resort by pulmonary patients. The company bears much more
the aspect of sickness, than that at the other springs. Their
death-like countenances can be seen on every hand; and the deep hollow
cough, which is heard almost incessantly, has at first a tendency to
affect the sympathies and to throw an air of melancholy over the
feelings. Many in the last stages of consumption, are taken to the Red
Sulphur as the final resort, and many, during almost every season,
find their long, last home, among the hills near the Red Sulphur. The
funeral of Gen. Alston, of South Carolina, was attended on the day of
our arrival, and another individual soon followed him to the tomb. The
Red Sulphur is well calculated to remind a reflecting man of his
mortality.
Many cases are also mentioned of astonishing cures, which have been
effected by the use of these waters. Their properties are singular,
and apparently contradictory. They deplete and strengthen the system
at the same time: they reduce the quantity of blood, and still act
with all the power of a tonic. The most peculiar property, however, is
that which effects an almost immediate reduction of the pulse.
Instances are known where the pulsations have been reduced from one
hundred and twenty to eighty in the space of twenty-four hours. The
effect of these waters, is at first apparently unfavorable. They
frequently, and perhaps generally occasion a feverish excitement, and
an unpleasant sensation of fulness throughout the whole system. I have
been informed, however, by those who attribute the renovation of their
constitutions to the Red Sulphur, that this excitement ceases after
perhaps ten days or two weeks, and often much earlier, and then, if at
all, unless the ravages of disease have been excessive, they begin to
produce the desired effect. I met with a gentleman, in returning from
the Red Sulphur, who had been pronounced past recovery by the most
eminent physicians in this country, from a chronic affection of the
lungs, but who, at the time I saw him, was enjoying excellent health,
and as he believed, was entirely free from any pulmonary symptoms. He
attributed his restoration solely to a residence during several
seasons at the Red Sulphur.
We must, however, in closing this brief notice of the Red Sulphur,
record some complaints against that establishment. We do it, however,
with a spirit very far from that of reproach. Our object is rather the
comfort of the public, and the more extensive encouragement of the
gentlemanly proprietor. The great defect at the Red Sulphur arises
principally from the want of system. The irregularity in the
arrangements is exceedingly unpleasant to the visiters, and especially
to those who are invalids. There is also a great want of proper
attention, on the part of those who have charge of the establishment,
and particularly from the servants. We must also express the same
opinion of the manager of the Red Sulphur, which we have advanced in
relation to the person who holds the same office at the White Sulphur.
He may be admirably adapted for some other situation, but, in our
opinion, he is not suited for that which he now occupies. Both of
these gentlemen have certainly seen enough of the world to know, that
something more substantial than promises, is necessary to satisfy the
wants of men. We again affirm, that we have spoken nothing in ill
will, either toward the White or Red Sulphur, nor to the gentlemen to
whom we have alluded. Our remarks have reference to them only as
_managers_ of extensive public establishments, and not as private men.
For the Southern Literary Messenger.