MARBLE CAVE.
Marble Cave, which is the finest yet explored in Missouri, is southeast
of the center of Stone County, a short distance north of the picturesque
White River. The nearest station is Marionville on the St. Louis and San
Francisco railroad, and the drive of forty miles is delightful, but can
be divided, into two of twenty each by a stop at Galena. The road, for
the most part, is naturally macadamized and is through a most charming
country whose roughness and beauty increase together as the journey
advances. At first it winds along fertile valleys between wooded hills,
crossing many times a shallow stream of water so clear as to afford no
concealment for an occasional water-moccasin, whose bite is said to be
not poisonous if inflicted under water, and which must be true because
the horses showed not the least uneasiness.
The second week in May found the vegetation in its summer beauty;
strawberries were ripe, and the weather without a fault.
Galena is pleasantly situated on the hills overlooking the James River,
and is entirely invisible from the road by which it is approached until
a slight curve in the line of ascent ends the first half of the journey
with surprising suddenness. In the immediate vicinity there are several
small caves which are worthy of attention and will be described later
on.
To properly picture the twenty miles of changing and charming views
between Galena and Marble Cave would require the light and skillful
touch of a special artist gifted with a tangible perception of
atmospheric values. Gradually the road forsakes the pretty valleys with
their fields and streams, to take the summit of the hills and then be
known as the "Ridge Road," which affords a wide range of vision not
previously enjoyed, presenting scenes not to be found reproduced
elsewhere with any degree of exactness. Looking into the depth of the
forest as it slopes away on either side, the impression is of a
magnificent park, undefaced by what are called improvements. This effect
is produced by the scarcity, or entire absence of underbrush, and a
beautiful surface covering of grasses or flowering plants of all kinds
and colors, varied here and there with masses of ferns of unusual size
and delicate beauty. The most unexpected and lavish feature of the rich
display is the many miles of fragrant honeysuckle that grows only
eighteen inches high in the forest shade, but if transplanted to a sunny
spot develops into the familiar vine. The most beautiful portion of
all this is called The Wilderness, and seems designed for a National
Park. Such a park reserve, even if very small, could not fail to be a
lasting pleasure, since it would be more accessible to large centers of
population than other reserves, and its most delightful seasons are
spring and autumn when the Yellowstone is under snow.
[Illustration: A Mill-Site Near Marble Cave.]
The distant view obtained through open spaces is an undulating forest in
all directions, being apparently both trackless and endless. The great
variety of greens observed in the foliage blends in the distance into
one dark shade, then changes to dark blue, which gradually fades out to
a hazy uncertainty where it is lost at the sky-line.
As long ago as 1853, the variety and abundance of the natural growth of
fruits throughout the Ozarks was observed by Professor Swallow, who then
advised the planting of vines.
Beyond the Wilderness is the Marble Cave property and the entrance to
the Cave is through a large sink-hole in the top of Roark Mountain. This
hole is said to be about two hundred feet long, one hundred feet wide
and thirty-five feet deep. It is shaped like a great oblong bowl with
sloping sides, divided irregularly near the middle, and having the
bottom broken out in a jagged way that is very handsome and gives an
ample support to the growth of ferns, wild roses, and other vegetation
with which it is abundantly decorated. About half of the descent into
the basin is accomplished by scrambling down the roughly broken rocks,
and the balance by a broad wooden stairway ending at a narrow platform
that supports the locked gate.
For kind and valuable assistance rendered to insure the success and
pleasure of the visit to the wonderful cave, which they regard with
affection and pride, very cordial thanks are due to Capt. T.S. Powell,
former manager, his son, Mr. Will Powell, the first guide, and Mr. Fred
Prince, who has made the only official survey and map. It may be stated
here that the survey and map are far from complete, and many known
passages have never yet been entered.
Being the first visiting party of the season, certain disadvantages were
encountered in a great accumulation of wet clay and rubbish, washed in
by the rains since the previous summer; but the gate was opened with
considerable effort, and slowly and cautiously we descended the
slippery, clay-banked stairs to the immense mound of debris forty-five
feet below the gate, to behold, at last, the grandeur of the Auditorium.
The magnificence of that one chamber should give to Marble Cave a
world-wide fame even if there were nothing more beyond. The blue-gray
limestone walls have a greater charm than those of an open cañon, owing
to the fact that they sweep away from any given point in long, true
curves to form an elliptical chamber three hundred and fifty feet long
by one hundred and twenty-five feet wide, with the vault above showing
absolute perfection of arch, and measuring, by the survey, from its
lowest to its highest point, one hundred and ninety-five feet. These
measurements are said to be indisputably correct, and if so, the
Auditorium of Marble Cave is the largest unsupported, perfect arch in
the world; it being one hundred feet longer than the famous Mormon
Tabernacle at Salt Lake City. In addition to the artistic superiority of
architectural form, its acoustic properties having been tested, it is
found to be truly an auditorium. The curving walls and pure atmosphere
combine to aid the voice, and carry its softest tones with marvelous
distinctness to every portion of the immense inclosed space. As a
concert hall its capacity has been tested by musicians who are said to
have been enthusiastic over the success of their experiments. Several
years ago a piano was lowered into the cave for use on a special
occasion, and still occupies a position on the dancing platform, where
it will probably remain indefinitely under the scant protection of a
small canvas tent.
The chief ornament of the Auditorium is the White Throne, a stalagmitic
mass that when viewed from the stairway appears to rest solidly against
the most distant wall, and looks so small an object in that vast space
as to render a realization of its actual measurement impossible. The
height of the Throne is sixty-five feet and the girth two hundred. It is
a mass of dripstone resting on a limestone base reserved from the
ancient excavation to receive it, and on careful inspection the
perpendicular lines, observed on the front, are found to be a set of
rather large organ pipes. A fresh fracture shows the Throne to be a most
beautiful white and gold onyx. The outer surface has now received a thin
coating of yellow clay which was, of course, regretted, but later
observations on onyx building reveals the pleasing fact that if the
crystal-bearing waters continue to drip, the yellow clay will supply the
coloring matter for a golden band of crystal.
The Throne is hollow and has a natural opening in one side by which it
may be entered, but the space within is too limited to invite a lengthy
stay. That portion of the outside which is nearest the wall is formed
with sufficient irregularity of outline to admit of an ascent to the
top, and the view obtained is well worth the difficult scramble up and
the apprehensive slide down. Being raised so high above all objects that
divide attention or in some degree obstruct the view, permits a freedom
of outlook that sensibly increases the appreciation of the vastness of
the enclosed chamber and its enclosing walls. Efforts to establish the
age of the deposit by observations on the yearly growth, would afford
little satisfaction, for the obvious reason that conditions governing
the growth are dependent, in a measure, on each season's vegetation.
Deposit began, of course, after the erosion of the chamber ceased, and
therefore represents only a fraction of the age of the cave itself.
About thirty feet west of the White Throne and against the wall, stands
the next onyx attraction in the form of a beautiful fluted column nearly
twenty feet high, tapering up from a base three feet in diameter, and
known as the Spring Room Sentinel, because the Spring of Youth is just
behind it although not directly connected with the Auditorium; it being
the first chamber on the left in Total Depravity Passage, a wet and
dangerous way of which next to nothing is known, but the entrance to
which is a fine arch a few feet west of the Sentinel. The Spring of
Youth is reached by climbing through a window-like opening, and is very
small, very wet, very cold, and very beautiful. It is not more than ten
feet high nor six in its greatest length and breadth, but every inch of
its irregular surface is composed of dripstone of a bright yellowish-red
and colorless crystal; and down the glittering walls trickles clear and
almost ice-cold water, to the onyx floor where it is caught and held in
a marvelous fluted bowl of its own manufacture. This is said to be the
gem of the whole cave and seems to have been placed where it is for the
consolation of those who are unable to enjoy the peculiar grandeur of
the Auditorium, and leave it as some actually are said to do, with a
sense of disappointment, because it is not the gleaming white hall of
marble which some writers for reputable journals have allowed their
imaginations to create.
In winter the Spring of Youth Room takes on a complete coating of ice,
with icicles of all sizes hanging from the ceiling and projections. The
effect is described as being wonderfully beautiful.
Further down Total Depravity Passage we were not urged to go, because at
that season of the year it is wet and difficult, without any sufficient
promise of a brilliant compensation for the achievement of such a
journey. But the Spring of Youth Room, or as it is generally called, the
Spring Room, is more than ample justification for the existence of the
passage, and would still be if that passage were several miles in length
and the attraction located at the most distant limit.
[Illustration: Wall in Spring Room. Page 32.]
The various passages in Marble Cave are by no means alike or even
similar; some having been opened by the action of water assisted only by
acid carried in solution; while others are the unmistakable crevices of
earthquake origin, afterwards enlarged, or perhaps only remodeled, as we
might say, by the water's untiring energy in changing the position of
rock masses without obliterating evidences of original design.
A glance at the map shows the sudden breaking off of the various
passages represented; the end, however, is not of the passages
themselves, but only of the exploration or the survey of them, and there
is a possibility that future developments will lead to the discovery of
more caves than are yet known. However that may be, the glimpses already
had into the beyond are said to be alluring.
To the north of the Auditorium, which was until recently called the
Grand Amphitheater, there opens out a kind of alcove extension known as
the Mother Hubbard Room, and spreading out from this is the corridor, a
room about one hundred and twenty-five feet long and seventy-five feet
in width, with a low, narrow passage, or crawl, leading from the
northeast into the Grotto, a dome-shaped room formerly called the
Battery, on account of the great number of bats that used to congregate
in it. It is about forty feet in diameter and fifty feet in height. On
one side of this room is a narrow "squeeze" opening into a passage
several feet lower than the floor level of the Grotto and leading to the
Spanish Room, which when discovered bore indications of having been
occupied by a human being who had tried to escape by tunneling, or by
reaching a hole in the roof; which is said to be impossible for him to
have done without outside assistance. As no bones have been found we may
hope the assistance arrived in time. When the discovery of the room was
made, a quantity of loose rock was piled before the entrance, so if he
ever escaped it was not by that way.
After crawling back to the Corridor, through the same small, but dry
passage of seventy feet length, we saw a narrow ledge of fine crystals,
a deposit of Epsom salts, and a few bats that in the dim light looked
white but are a light tan color with brown wings. A good specimen
hanging on a projecting ledge of the wall remained undisturbed by us and
our lights, giving an opportunity for careful inspection so that we
presently discovered it to be a mummy; which naturally suggests that
this portion of the cave, being dry and opening out of the great
temple-like Auditorium as an alcove, could be converted into an imposing
crypt.
Making our way across the room to its southwest extremity over a varied
assortment of bowlders and down a drop of eight or ten feet, we crawled
into another tight-fitting dry passage lined with beautiful glittering
onyx like clear ice banded with narrow lines of red, of which broken
fragments covered the narrow floor and made a dazzling, but
distressingly painful rug to crawl over. This is the West Passage and
leads to the Grand Crevice, of which only a small portion has been
surveyed; midway of the passage are the Epsom Rooms, two in number, and
well supplied with epsomite or native Epsom salts; this is sometimes
called the Windy Passage, on account of a rushing current of air met
suddenly at the first bend and, no doubt, due to the meeting here of
fresh air coming in from the outside with that chemically changed in the
Epsom Rooms.
The cave contains a great many dangerous places, as we correctly
surmised on the morning of our introduction; when Mr. Powell's blessing
on the breakfast was lost in so fervent a prayer for the safe and
successful accomplishment of our undertaking, it seemed inconsiderate
not to present the reassuring appearance of inexhaustible endurance.
In the Corridor can be seen one of the three old Spanish ladders found
in the cave when it was rediscovered; but when and for what purpose the
Spaniards used the cave there seems to be no means of finding out. It
should be remembered that this part of the United States was occupied
first by the Spaniards and then by the French, and is a portion of the
Louisiana Purchase, a tract of 897,931 square miles, or 70,000 square
miles more than the original thirteen states. The price asked and paid
was $12,000,000 and the assumption of claims which citizens of this
country had against the French Government for about $3,750,000 more. The
French offered to make the sale on account of being thoroughly
discouraged with constant troubles arising with the Indians, whom they
had decided it would be impossible to persuade or compel to recognize
any laws other than those established by each tribe for itself, or
accepted by friendly treaty with the council and disregarded by
individuals on both sides:--and the United States accepted the offer,
not for any expected value in the land, but for the unrestricted
navigation of the Mississippi River. Therefore Missouri was never under
British rule and never changed hands by force of arms.
But to return to the Spanish ladder, it is a tall pine tree notched on
the sides for steps, and the stump of a branch left or a peg inserted at
considerable intervals, for hand supports to assist in raising the
weight of the body.
Returning to the Auditorium, we entered a passage behind the Great White
Throne and started on what might well be called the Water Route, for no
dry spot is touched on the round trip; but if one goes prepared for
such a journey it is well worth the effort and the mud. If the visitor
is a man, the suit worn should be one he is ready to part with, or
overalls; ladies receive the same advice even to the overalls, as some
of the most beautiful portions of the cave, which we failed to see, can
be visited only in that objectionable costume. To visit any cave
comfortably a short dress is necessary and if any thing like a thorough
knowledge of the ramifications is desired, the unavoidable climbing will
soon prove the superior claims of a divided skirt; but if it is properly
made, only the wearer need be conscious of the divide. Rubber boots and
water-proof protection for the head and shoulders complete a costume
that is not exactly an artistic creation, unless our ideas of art have
been gathered in the school of Socrates, but it is suited to the
requirements of the occasion and makes the explorations far more easy
and profitable than they otherwise could be.
The passage back of the White Throne is called the Serpentine Passage,
and most of it is sufficiently high for traveling in an erect position;
yet there are several places that require crawling. The first stopping
point is the Gulf of Doom Room, or as it is also known, the Register
Room, because here visitors usually write their names in the peculiar
dark red clay, which is moist but firm and cuts with a polish. This
room is twenty-five feet high and fifty feet wide, and looks off into
the Gulf of Doom, which seems rightly named when a rock is thrown into
it and you note the lapse of time before any sound returns; and when the
awful Gulf is made visible by lights thrown in, one involuntarily seeks
a firmer footing and clings to a projecting rock. The height of the Gulf
is ninety-five feet and the distant sound of falling water is not
reassuring. The walls are not smoothly worn away, but have the rough and
weird appearance of having been torn by a torrent in a narrow mountain
gorge, and are stained with the dark clay.
Retracing our steps a short distance, if that style of locomotion could
be called steps, we turned into Doré's Gallery, and surely that artist
was in his usual working mood when he conceived this awful method of
connecting the upper regions with the lower. Great bowlders have fallen
down without helping to fill the black holes that received them, and
into this real Inferno we proceeded to descend by narrow, ladder-like
stairs provided with a light hand rail, and trembling slightly with the
responsibility they assumed. If any one's courage trembled too, no
notice was taken of it, and a record of exploring experiences does not
necessarily include a confession of any doubts.
On all the ladders in this Gallery was a fine white fungus growth in the
form of a thick, heavy mold, that the lightest touch destroyed. In caves
where some care is taken to protect this mold, it attains a growth of
six or more feet and assumes the forms of sea-weed.
Once down the first and longest flight of stairs, without any signs of a
Doré dragon raising its huge body by heavy claws to a resting place
among the rocks, awe divides more evenly with admiration; and being
already well besmeared with mud, we climbed over the clay-covered
bowlders and crawled through narrow holes with perfect satisfaction,
enjoying each novel scene to the utmost.
Off from the Doré Gallery is a small chamber containing the Fountain of
Youth, that must be seen, but the way, like that of the transgressor, is
hard. Arrived at the entrance we hesitated a moment, for although
getting in looked possible, the way out again seemed not so simple; but
finally trusting to Providence, through the direct agency of our careful
guardians, of course, we sat down on the edge of the large slippery
bowlder on which we stood, and reaching out caught a projection of the
wall on one side and a bowlder crag on the other, swung off and dropped
into the soft mud below. This chamber proved to be a little gem; small
but high, and beautifully adorned with calcite crystal. Down a wall of
red onyx on one side clear water flows into a basin in the irregular,
rocky floor, just behind the bowlder we had used for a hand-rest at the
entrance; the perfectly transparent water in the basin appears to be
only a few inches deep, but measures three feet, and is several degrees
colder than the air, which in this portion of the cave is warm. The
other wall of this room is an almost perpendicular bank of the soft dark
red clay, in which small selenite crystals are sprouting like plants in
a garden.
Suddenly we heard a heavy, rolling noise like distant thunder, and
asking if it were possible to hear a thunder storm so far below the
surface, were told it was the protest of angry bats against a further
advance on the quarters to which they have retreated from the main body
of the cave, and their orders were obeyed: so of what may be in that
direction, we gained no positive knowledge besides bats, and the fact
that, small as they are, their great numbers make them dangerous when
angry. Returning to the gallery and continuing the journey down over
slippery rock and slender ladders we came at length to the bottom of the
Gulf of Doom, into which we had looked from the room now high above us;
and we needed no stimulating help to the imagination to pronounce it a
fit termination to an artist's troubled dream.
[Illustration: The Waterfall. Page 41.]
Then climbing over an assortment of bowlders of all sizes, going up a
little, and swinging or sliding down, we came to a point in the narrow
passage where the floor is a flat slab, like a large paving stone,
tilted up at a steep angle against one wall and not reaching the other
by about fifteen inches, with darkness of unknown depth below: about
three feet above this opening the wall projects in a narrow, shelving
ledge, and everything is covered with a thin coating of slippery wet
clay. The only way to cross that uninviting bridge is to brace the feet
against the slab, and leaning on the ledge, slowly work across. A little
more rough work and the descent of the two short ladders, brought us, at
last, under the beautiful Waterfall, where we stood as in a heavy shower
of rain at the lowest point yet reached in the cave, which according to
the survey of Mr. Prince is four hundred feet below the surface. The
falling water has ornamented the walls, which in this portion of the
cave expose over two hundred feet of Magnesian Limestone, with unique
forms of dripstone; and the steeply sloping floor has received the
over-charge of calcium carbonate until it has become a shining mass of
onyx, retaining pools of cold, transparent water in the depressions. In
the lowest corner there is only mud, and above it rises, to a height of
at least fifteen feet a bank of miry, yellow clay, at the top of which a
hole in the wall is the only known entrance to Blondy's Throne.
[Illustration: Longitudinal and Cross-Sections of Passages in Marble
Cave, Stone Co., Missouri.
Plotted by Fred Prince, 1894.]