Harper’s Ferry, June, 1848.
Since the date of my last letter, I have been travelling through a
very beautiful but thickly-settled portion of the Alleghany country,
whose natural curiosities are as familiar to the world as a
thrice-told tale. For this reason, therefore, I shall be exceedingly
brief in describing what I have seen in the Valley of Virginia. That
portion of the “Ancient Dominion” known by the above name is about
two hundred miles long, ranging in width from thirty to forty miles.
It is bounded on the north by the Potomac, on the east by the Blue
Ridge, on the west by a spur of the Alleghanies called the North
Mountains, and on the south by the New River, or Kanawha, as it
should be called. Its principal streams are the Shenandoah, the
James River, and the Cacapon, which are in every way worthy of their
parent country. In ascending to the north, I was tempted to perform
a pilgrimage down the Kanawha, but my map told me that I could not
see the whole of its valley without travelling at least two hundred
miles, and I therefore concluded that its charming scenery, its
famous salt-works, and the still more celebrated White Sulphur
Springs, should remain undescribed by my pen. In fact, to visit all
the interesting objects among the Alleghany Mountains would occupy a
number of summers, and therefore, in making a single tour, I have
found it important to discriminate as I passed along. But it is time
that I should turn my attention to the prominent attractions of the
great Virginia Valley. They are as follows, and I shall speak of
them in the order in which I visited them, viz.: the Peaks of Otter,
the Natural Bridge, Wyer’s Cave, Cyclopean Towers, the Shenandoah,
and Harper’s Ferry.
The Peaks of Otter are situated upon the line which separates the
counties of Bedford and Bottetourt, and are the two highest
mountains on the Blue Ridge range, and therefore the highest in
Virginia. They derive their name from the fact that, at a very early
period in the history of our country, the otter was found in great
abundance in the smaller streams at their base. In appearance they
resemble a pair of regularly formed haystacks, and reach an
elevation of about five thousand feet above the level of the ocean.
Owing to the circumstance that the country on one side is nearly
level, and that the surrounding mountains are comparatively low,
their appearance is exceedingly imposing. The summits of these
watchtowers are destitute of vegetation, but crowned with immense
rocks, which have been scattered about in the most incomprehensible
confusion. And hereby hangs a story. About one year ago, a number of
persons ascended the highest peak in question, and having discovered
an immense rock, which appeared to be in a tottleish position, they
took into their heads to give it a start down the mountain side, and
see what would be the result. They accomplished their purpose and
something more, for it so happened that the rock travelled much
further than they expected, and having fallen into a very large
spring at the foot of the mountain, caused it to disappear from the
face of the earth. The owner of the spring felt himself injured by
this circumstance, and went to law about it, and the offending
parties, as I have been informed, were compelled to pay a heavy bill
of damages. That the sunrise and sunset prospects from the Peaks of
Otter are superb may readily be imagined. Those which present
themselves on the north, west, and south, seem to comprise the
entire Appalachian chain of mountains, but the oceanward panorama is
unique and particularly impressive. In this direction the whole
eastern portion of Virginia resembles a boundless plain, where even
the most extensive plantations appear no larger than the squares
upon a chessboard; and now that I have employed that figure, it
strikes me as particularly appropriate; for where is there a man on
the face of the earth who is not playing a game for the attainment
of happiness? From their position, the Peaks of Otter look down upon
all the fogs and vapors born of the sea breezes, and, by those who
have frequently beheld their fantastic evolutions, I am told that
they surpass even the wildest flights of poetry. Few mountains in
this country have been visited by so many distinguished men as the
Peaks of Otter; and it is said that it was while standing on their
loftiest pinnacle that John Randolph first had a realizing sense of
the existence and the power of God. To some minds a mountain peak
may be a thousand-fold more eloquent than the voice of man; and when
I think of the highly moral condition of the people in Central
Virginia, I am constrained to award a mite of praise even to the
Peaks of Otter for their happy influences.
It was a thousand years ago, and a mighty caravan of mammoths were
travelling across the American continent. Midway between two ranges
of mountains they came to a great ravine, over which they could not
find a passage, and they were in despair. The Great Spirit took pity
upon the animals, and having brought a deep sleep upon them, threw a
mass of solid rock completely across the ravine, and so, according
to an almost forgotten Indian legend, came into existence the
Natural Bridge of Virginia. The chasm over which this magnificent
limestone arch has been formed varies from sixty to ninety feet in
width, the surrounding precipices are nearly two hundred and fifty
feet high and perpendicular, and the lower line of the narrow arch
itself is two hundred feet above the stream which passes through the
gorge. The bridge and its cliff-like abutments are all crowned with
a luxuriant diadem of trees, which lends them an indescribable
charm, and directly on the north side of the former stands an
exceedingly picturesque gallery or parapet of solid rock, which
seems to have been formed by Nature for the especial purpose of
affording the most imposing prospect into the dell. From every
elevated point of view the eye falls into an abyss, which one might
easily fancy to be the birthplace of all the shadows in the world,
the gray and green gloom is so deep, so purely beautiful, and so
refreshing, even at the hour of noon; but from every point of view
at the bottom of the dell, the stupendous arch, as some writer has
finely said, “seems to offer a passage to the skies,” and the
massive masonry of Nature stands boldly out against the blue
heavens, thereby producing a most unique and poetical contrast. But
the location of this bridge is not less beautiful than its
structure. It is completely surrounded with hills, which seem to
cluster around the rare spectacle, as if to protect it from
sacrilege; and from the hills in question the eye is every where
delighted with mountain landscapes of uncommon loveliness.
Wyer’s Cave is in Augusta county, and the entrance to it is from the
side of a limestone hill, which commands a very charming prospect of
the highly cultivated Valley of the Shenandoah. It was originally
discovered by one Bernard Wyer in the year 1804, whose fortune it
was to capture a bear within a few paces of its entrance. Its entire
length is not far from one thousand yards, so that its size is not
to be wondered at; but when you come to speak of its beauty, the
variety, number, and imposing appearance of its apartments, the
novelty of its concretions, its fantastic projections, its
comparative freedom from dampness, and the whiteness of its walls, I
suppose it must be considered as unsurpassed by any thing of the
kind in the country, excepting the Cave of Kentucky. But the
pleasure of roaming about this darksome emblem of perdition is
greatly enhanced by the huge pine torches which you and your guide
have to carry over your heads, and then if you can possibly bribe
your friend _not_ to utter a single one of the abominably classical
names with which all the nooks and corners of the cave have been
christened, your gratification will indeed be real, and your
impressions strange, unearthly, and long-to-be-remembered in your
dreams. To enjoy a visit to this cave, as it ought to be enjoyed, a
man ought to have an entire summer day at his disposal; ought to be
alone, should have a torch that should need no trimming, and under
his arm a well-printed copy of Dante. Thus prepared, his enjoyment
would be truly exquisite.
The Cyclopean Towers are also in Augusta county, and were so called
on account of their resemblance to the Cyclopean walls of the
ancients. They are formed of limestone, and as they stand at the
outlet of a valley, through which it is probable a mighty river once
flowed, they were evidently formed by the water while forcing its
way around the point of the neighboring hill. There are five or six
of them, and they vary from forty to ninety feet from base to
summit, and are covered with trees. When viewed at the twilight hour
they appear like the mouldering ruins of a once magnificent castle,
and the wildness of the surrounding scenery is not at all calculated
to dissipate this illusion.
With regard to the Valley of the Shenandoah, I can only say that a
more beautiful section of country I have never seen. The soil is
exceedingly rich and highly cultivated; its yeomanry are descended
from the German population of the older times; and throughout all
its borders, I am certain that peace and plenty abound. As to the
river itself, I can only say that it is worthy of its vague but
poetical and melodious Indian name, the interpretation of which is
said to be _Daughter of the Stars_.
And now a single word in regard to Harper’s Ferry. When I close my
eyes and bring the scenery of this portion of the Potomac before my
mind, I am disposed to agree, in every particular, with all those
writers who have sung the praises of this remarkable gorge; but when
I look upon it as it now appears, despoiled by the hand of
civilization of almost every thing which gives a charm to the
wilderness, I am troubled with an emotion allied to regret, and I
again instinctively close my eyes, that I may look into the past,
and once more hear the whoop of the Indian hunter following the
fleet deer.