Springs of Virginia

In strong contrast in my mind with such a scene as this,stands a gay encampment in the wilderness, at which I soon afterarrived. The watering places among the Virginia mountains are asnew and striking a spectacle as the United States can afford. Thejourneyings of those who visit them are a perpetual succession ofcontrasts. I may as well give the whole journey from Cincinnatito the eastern base of the Alleghanies.

We left Cincinnati at noon on the 25th of June: as sultry asummer's day as ever occurs on the Ohio. The glare was reflectedfrom the water with a blinding and scorching heat; and featherfans were whisking all day in the ladies' cabin of oursteam-boat. Hot as it was, I could not remain in the shady cabin.The shores of the Ohio are so beautiful, that I could not bear tolose a single glimpse between the hills. It is holiday-travellingto have such a succession of pictures as I saw there made to passnoiselessly before one's eyes. There were the children runningamong the gigantic trees on the bank, to see the boat pass; thegirl with her milk-pail, half way up the hill; the horseman onthe ridge, or the wagoner with his ox-team pausing on the slope.Then there was the flitting blue jay under the cool shadow of thebanks; the butterflies crossing the river in zig-zag flight; theterrapins (small turtle) floundering in the water, with theirpert little heads above the surface; and the glancing fire-fliesevery night.

On the afternoon of this day, we were met by the storm whichswept over the whole country, and which will be remembered ashaving caused the death of the son of Chief-Justice Marshall, atBaltimore, on his way to his dying father. I watched, from thedeck, the approach of the storm. First, the sky, above the whiteclouds, was of a dark grey, which might have been mistaken forthe deep blue of twilight. Then a mass of black clouds camehurrying up below the white. Then a flash escaped from out of theupper grey, darting perpendicularly into the forest; and thenanother, exploding like the four rays of a star. I saw the squallcoming in a dark line, straight across the river. Our boat washurried under the bank to await it. The burst was furious; aroaring gust, and a flood of rain, which poured in under ourcabin door, close shut as it was. All was nearly as dark as nightfor a while, and all silent but the elements. Then the day seemedto dawn again; but loud peals of thunder lasted long, and thelightning was all abroad in the air. Faint flashes now wanderedby; and now a brilliant white zig-zag quivered across the sky.One splendid violet-coloured shaft shot straight down into theforest; and I saw a tall tree first blaze and then smoulder atthe touch. A noble horse floated by, dead and swollen. When wedrew out into the middle of the river, it was as if spring hadcome in at the heels of the dog-days; all was so cool and calm.

The company on board were of the lowest class we ever happenedto meet with in our travels They were obliging enough; aseverybody is throughout the country, as far as my experiencegoes; but otherwise they were no fair specimens of Americanmanners. One woman excited my curiosity from the beginning; but Ientertained a much more agreeable feeling towards her when weparted, after several days travelling in company. Her first deedwas to ask where we were going; and her next, to take my book outof my lap, and examine it. Much of the rest of her time wasoccupied in dressing her hair, which was, notwithstanding, almostas rough as a negro's. She wore in her head a silver comb,another set with brilliants, and a third, an enormoustortoiseshell, so stuck in, on one side, as to remind tbeobserver, irresistibly, of a unicorn. She pulled down her hair incompany, and put it up again, many times in a day, whenever, asit seemed to me, she could not think of anything else to bedoing. Her young companion, meantime, sat rubhing her teeth withdragon-root. The other cabin company seemed much of the sameclass. I was dressing in my state room between four and five thenext morning, when an old lady, who was presently going ashore,burst in, and snatched the one tumbler glass from my hand. Shewas probably as much amazed at my having carried it out of sightas I was at her mode of recovering it.

I loved the early morning on the great rivers, and thereforerose at dawn. I loved the first grey gleams that came frombetween the hills, and the bright figures of people in white,(the men all in linen jackets in hot weather,) on the banks. Iloved to watch the river craft; the fussy steamer making rapidway; the fairy canoe shooting silently across; the flat-boat,with its wreath of blue smoke, stealing down in the shadow of thebanks, her navigators helping her along in the current bycatching at the branches as tbey passed; and the perilous lookingraft, with half-a-dozen people on it, under their canopy of greenboughs, their shapeless floor bending and walloping in the middleof the stream. I loved the trees, looking as if they stoodself-poised, their roots were washed so bare. I loved thedwellings that stood behind their screen, those on the easternbank seeming fast asleep; those on the western shore gay with theflickering shadows cast on them by the breezy sunrise through thetrees.

On passing Catletsburgh we bade adieu to glorious Kentucky. Atthat point, our eyes rested on three sovereign States at oneglance, Ohio, Kentucky, and Virginia. We landed at Guyandot, andproceeded by stage the next morning to Charleston, on the Kanawhariver. The road, all the way to the Springs, is marvellously goodfor so wild a part of the country. The bridges over the streamsare, some of them, prettily finished; and the accommodations bythe road side are above the average. The scenery is beautiful thewhole way. We were leaving the great Western Valley; and the roadoffered a succession of ascents and levels. There were manyrivulets and small waterfalls; the briar-rose was in full bloomalong the ground; the road ran halfway up the wooded hills, sothat there were basins of foliage underneath, the wholeapparently woven into so compact a mass by the wild vine, that itseemed as if one might walk across the valley on the tree tops.The next day's dawn broke over the salt works and coal pits, orrather caverns of coal, on the hill sides. The corn was less talland rich, the trees were less lofty, and it was apparent that wewere mounting to a higher region. It occurred to me, in acareless kind of way, that we were now not very far from theHawk's Nest. Some ladies in the Guyandot Hotel had said to me,"Be sure you see the Hawk's Nest." "What isthat?" "A place that travellers can see if they choose;the driver always stops a few minutes to let them see the Hawk'sNest." I had never heard of it before, and I never heard ofit again. The world is fairly awakened to Niagara; but it isstill drowsy about two scenes which moved me--the one more thanNiagara, the other nearly as much; the platform at Pine OrchardHouse, on the top of the Catshills, and the Hawk's Nest.

The last of the Kanawha River, as we bade adieu to it on the28th of June, was smooth and sweet, with its islets of rocks, andthe pretty bridge by which we crossed the Gauley, and enteredupon the ascent above New River. The Gauley and the New Riverjoin to make the Kanawha. The ascent of the mountains above NewRiver is trying to weak nerves. The horses have to stop, here andthere, to rest; and it appears that if they were to back threesteps, it would be death. The road, however, is really broad,though it appears a mere ledge when the eye catches the depthbelow, where the brown river is rushing and brawling in its rockybed. A passenger dropped his cap in the steepest part, and thedriver made no difficulty about stopping to let him recover it.What a depth it was! like the dreamy visions of one's childhoodof what winged messengers may first learn of man'sdwelling-place, when they light on a mountain-top; like Satan'sglimpses from the Mount of Soliloquy; like any unusual orforbidden peep from above into the retirements of nature, or thearrangements of man. On our left, rose the blasted rockswhich had been compelled to yield us a passage; but their aspectwas already softened by the trails of crimson and green creeperswhich were spreading over their front. The unmeasured pent-houseof wild vine was still below us on the right, with richrhododendron blossoms bursting tbrough, and rock-plants shootingup from every ledge and crevice at the edge of the precipice.After a long while, (I have nothing to say of time or distance,for I thought of neither,) a turn in the road shut out the wholefrom our sight. I leaned out of the stage, further and further,to catch, as I supposed, a last glimpse of the tremendous valley;and when I drew in again, it was with a feeling of deep griefthat such a scene was to be beheld by me no more. I saw a house,a comfortable homestead, in this wild place, with its pasture andcornfields about it; and I longed to get out, and ask the peopleto let me live with them.

In a few minutes the stage stopped. "If any of thepassengers wish to go to the Hawk's Nest" shouted thedriver. He gave us ten minutes, and pointed with his whip to abeaten path in the wood, to the right. It seems to me now that Iwas unaccountably cool and careless about it. I was absorbed bywhat I had seen, or I might have known, from the direction wewere taking, that we were coming out above the river again. Wehad not many yards to go. We issued suddenly from the covert ofthe wood, upon a small platform of rock;-- a Devil's Pulpit itwould be called, if its present name were not so much better;--aplatform of rock, springing from the mountain side, without anyvisible support, and looking sheer down upon an angle of theroaring, river, between eleven and twelve hundred feet below.Nothing whatever intervenes. Spread out beneath, shooting uparound, are blue mountain peaks, extending in boundless expanse.No one, I believe, could look down over the edge of this airyshelf, but for the stunted pines which are fast rooted in it.With each arm clasping a pine-stem, I looked over, and saw more,I cannot but think, than the world has in reserve to show me.

It is said that this place was discovered by Chief JusticeMarshall, when, as a young man, he was surveying among themountains. But how many Indians knew it before? How did it strikethe mysterious race who gave place to the Indians? Perhaps one ofthese may have stood there to see the summer storm careeringbelow; to feel that his foothold was too lofty to be shaken bythe thunderpeals that burst beneath; to trace the quiverings ofthe lightnings afar, while the heaven was clear above his ownhead. Perhaps this was the stand chosen by the last Indian, fromwhich to cast his lingering glance upon the glorious regions fromwhich the white intruders were driving his race. If so, here hermust have pined and died, or hence he rmust have cast himselfdown. I cannot conceive that from this spot any man could turnaway, to go into exile. But it cannot be that Marshall was morethan the earliest of Saxon race who discovered this place.Nature's thrones are not left to be first mounted by men who canbe made Chief Justices. We know not what races of wild monarchsmay have had them first.

We travelled the rest of the day through an Alpine region,still full of beauty. The road is so new that the stopping placesseemed to have no names. The accommodations were wonderfullygood. At eleven we reached a place where we were allowed, notonly to sup, but to lie down for two hours; a similar mercy tothat afforded us the night before. Those who are impatient offatigue should not attempt this method of reaching the VirginiaSprings, though they are much to be pitied if they adopt anyother. Our first re-entrance upon the world was at Lewisburg, atnoon, on the 29th. It appears to be a neat village. The militiawere parading: very respectable men, I do not doubt, but not muchlike soldiers. In a quarter of an hour we were off for the WhiteSulphur Springs, nine miles (of dusty road) from Lewisburg, andarrived there at half-past two, just as the company weredispersing about the walks, after dinner.

Nothing could be more striking than the contrast between ourstage-coach society and that which was thronging the green areainto which we were driven. We were heated, wearied, shabby, andall of one dust colour, from head to foot, and, I doubt not,looking very sheepish under the general stare. Every body elsewas gay and spruce, and at full leisure to criticise us.Gentlemen in the piazza in glossy coats and polished pumps;ladies in pink, blue, and white, standing on green grass, shadingtheir delicate faces and gay head-dresses under parasols; neverwas there a more astonishing contrast than all this presentedwith what we had been seeing of late. The friends who wereexpecting us, however, were not ashamed of us, and came boundingover the green to welcome us, and carry us within reach ofrefreshment.

It was doubtful whether "a cabin" could be spared tous. We were fortunate in being so favoured as to be put inpossession of one in the course of the afternoon. Severalcarriages full of visitors arrived within a few days, each withits load of trunks, its tin pail dangling behind (wherewith towater the horses in the wilderness) and its crowd of expectingand anxious faces at the windows, and were turned back to seek aresting-place elsewhere. That we were accommodated at all, Ibelieve to this day to be owing to some secret self-denyingordinance on the part of our friends.

On one side of the green, are the large rooms, in which thecompany at the Springs dine, play cards, and dance. Also, thebar-room, and stage, post, and superintendent's offices. Thecabins are disposed round the other sides, and dropped down, inconvenient situations behind. These cabins consist of one, two,or more rooms, each containing a bed, a table, a looking-glass,and two or three chairs. All company is received in a room with abed in it: there is no help for it. The better cabins have apiazza in front; and all have a back door opening upon the hillside; so that the attendants, and their domestic business, arekept out of sight.

The sulphur fountain is in the middle of the southern end ofthe green; and near it is the sulphur bathing-house. The fountainrises in the midst of a small temple, which is surmounted by astatue of Hygeia, presented to the establishment by a gratefulvisitor from New Orleans.

The water, pure and transparent, and far more agreeable to theeye than to the taste, forms a pool in its octagon-shapedcistern; and hither the visitors lounge, three times a day, todrink their two or three half-pint tumblers of nauseousness.

I heard many complaints, from new-comers, of the drowsinesscaused by drinking the water. Some lay down to sleep more thanonce in the day; and others apologised for their dulness insociety; but this is only a temporary effect, if one may judge bythe activity visible on the green from morning till night. One ofthe greatest amusements was to listen to the variety of theoriesafloat about the properties and modes of application of thewaters.

These springs had been visited only about fifteen years. Nophilosophising on cases appears to have been instituted: norecording, classifying, inferring, and stating. The patients comefrom distances of a thousand miles in every direction, with agreat variety of complaints; they grow better or do not; they goaway, and nobody is the wiser for their experience. It would bedifficult to trace them, and to make a record of anything morethan their experience while on the spot. The application of thesewaters will probably continue for a long time to be purelyempirical. All that is really known to the patients themselvesis, that they are first sleepy, then ravenous; that they mustthen leave the White Sulphur Spring, and go to the Warm Springs,to be bathed; then to the Sweet Springs, to be braced; and thenhome, to send all their ailing friends into Virginia next year.

Upwards of two hundred visitors were accommodated when I wasin the White Sulphur Valley; and cabins were being built in alldirections. The valley, a deep basin among the mountains,presents such beauties to the eye, as perhays few watering-placesin the world can boast. There has been no time yet to lay themopen, for the benefit of the invalids; but there are plans forthe formation of walks and drives through the woods, and alongthe mountain sides. At present, all is wild, beyond the precinctsof the establishment; and, for the pleasure of the healthy, forthose who can mount, and ramble, and scramble, it seems a pitythat it should not remain so. The mocking-bird makes the woodsring with its delicious song; and no hand has bridged the rapidstreams. If you want to cross them, you must throw in your ownsteppingstones. If you desire to be alone, you have only toproceed from the gate of the establishment to the first turn inthe road, force your way into the thicket, and look abroad fromyour retreat upon as sweet and untouched a scene of mountain andvalley as the eye of the red man loves to rest upon. Thegentlemen who are not invalids go out shooting in the wilderness.A friend of mine returned from such an expedition, the day aftermy arrival. He brought home a deer; had been overtaken by a stormin the mountains, and had, with his companions, made a house anda fire. Such amusements would diversify the occupations of Bathand Cheltenham very agreeably.

The morning after our arrival, we were too weary to be rousedby the notice bell, which rings an hour before every meal; and wewere ready only just in time for the last bell. Breakfast iscarried to the cabins, if required; but every person who is ableprefers breakfasting in company. On rainy mornings, it is acurious sight to see the company scudding across the green to thepublic-room, under umbrellas, and in cloaks and india-rubbershoes. Very unlike the slow pace, under a parasol, in a July sun.

There was less meat on the table at breakast and tea than Iwas accustomed to see. The bread and tea were good. For the othereatables there is little to be said. It is a table spread in thewilderness; and a provision of tender meat and juicy vegetablesfor two or three hundred people is not to be had for the wishing.The dietary is sure to be improved, from year to year; the mostthat is to be expected at present is, that there should be enoughfor everybody. The sum paid for board per week is eight dollars;and other charges may make the expenses mount up to twelve.Pitchers of water and of milk may be seen, at every meal, alldown the tables; little or no wine.

The establishment is under the management of the proprietor,who has been offered 500,000 dollars for it, that it may beconducted by a company of share-holders, who would introduce thenecessary improvements. When I was there, the proprietor wasstill holding off from this bargain, the company not beingwilling to continue to him the superintendence of the concern. Ihope that arrangements, satisfactory to all parties, may havebeen made by this time. The average gross receipts of a seasonwere reported to be 50,000 dollars. It vas added that these mighteasily he doubled, if all were done that might be.

Rheumatism and liver complaints seemed the most commongrievances. Two little girls, perhaps four and five years old,sat opposite to me, who were sufferers from rheumatism. But thevisitors who came for pleasure seemed to outnumber considerablythose who came for health.

After breakfast,we sauntered about the green, and visitedvarious new acquaintances in their piazzas. Then we went home forour bonnets, and rambled through the woods, till we weresent back by the rain, and took shelter beside the fountain. Theeffect was strange of seeing there a family of emigrants, parentsand nine children, who were walking from North Carolina intoIllinois. There must have been twins among these children, somany of them looked just alike. The contrast between this groupof way-worn travellers, stopping out of curiosity to taste thewaters, and the gay company among whom they very properly held uptheir independent heads, was striking to a stranger.

We dined at two, and afterwards found that a fire would becomfortable, though it was the last day of June. As many friendsas our room would hold came home with us, and sat on thebed, table, and the few chairs we could muster, while one madethe wood fire, and another bought ice-creams, which a country ladbrought to the door. These ice-creams seemed to be thin custard,With a sprinkling of snow in it; but the boy declared that theywere ice-creams when he left home. When we had finished ourdessert, washed and returned the glasses, and joked and talkedtill the new-comers of our party grew ashamed of theirdrowsiness, we crossed the green to diversify the afternoonamusements of certain of our friends. Some were romping withtheir dogs; some reading books brought by themselves; (for thereis no library yet ;) some playing at chess or backgammon; alldeploring the rain.

After tea, we stormed the great scales, and our whole partywere individually weighed. It must be an interesting occupationto the valetudinarians of the place to watch their own and eachothers' weight, from day to day, or from week to week. For mypart, I found my weight just what it always has been, the fewtimes in my life that I have remembered to ascertain it. Suchunenviable persons can never make a pursuit of the scales, asothers can whose gravity is more discriminating.-- From thescales, we adjourned to the ball-room, where I met friends andacquaintances from Mobile and New Orleans; saw new-comers fromthe Carolinas and Georgia; was introduced to personages of notefrom Boston; recognized some whom I had known at Philadelphia;and set between two gentlemen who had fought a duel. There wasmusic, dancing, and refreshments; laughing and flirting here;grave conversation there;--all the common characteristics of aball, with the added circumstances that almost every State in theUnion was here represented; and that we were gathered together inthe heart of the mountains.

One more visit remained to be paid this day. We had promisedto look in upon some friends who were not at the ball, in orderto try the charms and virtues of egg-nogg, which had been laudedto us by an eminent statesman, who has had opportunity, duringhis diplomatic missions, to learn what there is best in thisworld. The egg-nogg having been duly enjoyed, we at length wenthome, to write letters as long as we could hold up our heads,after so extremely busy a day:--a day which may be considered afair specimen of life at the White Sulphur Springs.

One of the personages whom I referred to as low company, atthe beginning of my story, declared himself in the stage-coach tobe a gambler, about to visit the Springs for professionalpurposes. He said to another man, who looked fit company for him,that he played higher at faro than any man in the country butone. These two men slept while we were mounting to the Hawk'sNest. People who pursue their profession by night, as such peopledo, must sleep in the day, happen what may. They were ratherself-important during the journey; it was a comfort to see howpoor a figure they cut at the Springs. They seemed to sink intothe deepest insignificance that could be desired. Such personsare the pests of society in the south and west; and they are aptto boast that their profession is highly profitable in theeastern cities. I fear this is no empty vaunt.

We left the White Sulphur Springs, a party of six, in "anextra exclusive return stage," and with two saddle horses.Nothing could be more promising. The stage was perfectly new,having been used only to bring General C----- and his lady fromPhiladelphia to the Springs. We had a shrewd and agreeable Yankeedriver, for the whole way. The weather was as fine as Julyweather ought to be; and as cool as is its wont near the tops ofmountains: the very weather for the saddle, or for having thestage open on all sides; or for walking. The alternations werefrequently tried. Roses and mountain laurels adorned our road;the breezy woods cast their shadows over us; and we rememberedwhat waters were springing beneath us;--that we were passing overthe sources of the mighty rivers of the West, which we had latelynavigated with deep awe and delight. The few dwellings we passedwere almost all houses of entertainment; but nothing could bemore quiet than their air, nestling as they did in the mostenviable situations, and resembling more the lodges in theavenues of the parks of English gentry than the hotels of thehigh road.

We reached the Sweet Springs, twelve miles, I believe, fromthe White Sulphur, at half-past two. We were as hungry asmountain travellers should be, and dinner was over. However, wewere soon set down to hot stewed venison, beet, hominy, ham, andfruit pies; and, thus reinforced, we issued forth to examine theplace. The spring at the bathhouse looked so tempting, that Iresolved to bathe at sun-down, which in this valley, would be atfive o'clock. The establishment here is inferior to the one wehad left. The green was not paled in; the cabins were moreshabby; the dining-room smaller. We had it almost to ourselves.The season had not begun, few having been yet sufficientlysulphured and bathed elsewhere to come here to be braced. Thewater is a little warm; it has a slight briskness; and bubbles upprettily in its well under the piazza. The luxury is to havenothing to do with its disagreeable taste, but to bathe in it, asit gushes, tepid, from its spout. It would be worth while, ifthere were nothing but trouble in crossing the mountains to getto it. The Sweet Springs lie in one of the highest valleys of theAlleghanies, and one of the fairest. Five times that afternoondid I climb the steep breezy slope behind our cabin, bringingfirst one of our party, then another, to look abroad; and thenreturning to enjoy the sun-set alone. The crowds of blue peaks,the bright clearings, the clumps of forest trees, lilac in thesunset, with the shepherds lying in their shadow, and the sheepgrazing on the sunny slopes, the cluster of cabins below, withtheir thin smokes rising straight into the golden air,--the wholelooked as if the near heavens had opened to let down a gush oftheir inner light upon this high r egion. Never shall I forgetthose tufty purple hills. Cold twilight came on; and we sat rounda blazing wood fire, telling ghost and murder stories till wecould have declared it was a Christmas night.

At supper, I observed a hale, brisk, intellectual-lookinggentleman who satisfied himself with a basin of liquid; as he didat breakfast the next morning; and as he may be seen to do atevery meal he takes. He told us his story. Twenty years before,he nearly closed his oesophagus by taking too powerful an emetic.For twenty years, he has had no illness; he rises at dawn all theyear round, and has never been known to be low-spirited for twominutes. We all began to think of living upon liquids; but I havenot heard of any of the party having proceeded beyond thesuggestion.

We rose at five, the next morning, having thirty mountainmiles to go during the day, with the same horses. It must not besupposed that this mountain travelling is scrambling among craggypeaks, piercing through dark defiles, and so forth. The roadswind so gently among the slopes, that a sleeping or blindtraveller would not discover that the carriage was not, for thegreater part of the time, proceeding on level ground. Woodyslopes at hand, and a crowd of blue summits afar, are the mostcharacteristic features of the scenery. A white speck of a house,on its tiny green clearing, comes into sight, high up among thehills, from a turn in the road, and the traveller says tohimself, "What a perch to live on!" In two hours, hestops at that very house to dine, not being aware how he has gotup to it, and looking round with wonder on the snug comforts ofthe homestead.

Our thirty miles of this day were delicious. Havingbreakfasted, we bade adieu, at half-past six, to the SweetSprings, steaming in the bitter cold morning air, and followed agentleman of our party who had proceeded on foot to the top ofthe first ridge. There we found hirn, sitting under a tree,having succeeded in warming himself by the walk. Up the secondridge, the whole party walked, I having started off, ahead of therest. It was warm, and I stopped, here and there, to rest andgather wild flowers. The rhododendrons and kalmias grew inprofusion; and there were plenty of roses, the fine orangecolumbine of the hills, vetches, and a few splendid scarletlilies. The peeps down into abysses of foliage were glorious;and, yet more, the cloudlike expanse of mountain tops, growingbluer and fainter till they faded quite away. A steep road on anopposite mountain was the only sign of humanity being near. Onthe summit, however, there was a small farm. In it lived anelderly woman, who had never been further from the spot thaneight miles. If she was born to travel no further than eightmiles, no better dwelling place could have been assigned her; forhence she sees more at a glance, any sunset, than some, with allmeans of locomotion, have ever beheld.

It was a strange feeling, the beginning to descend. It wasstrange to cross, soon after, the path of the tornado. I had seensomething of its ravages before, on the banks of the Cumberlandriver: the stoutest forest-trees wrenched and twisted, likered-hot iron in the vice of the blacksmith; and snapped off, allat the same height; so that the forest looked like a giganticscorched stubblefield. Here, a similar desolation was seen inimmediate contrast with the rich fertility of the little valleybeneath. The hurricane had seared a path for itself up themountain side, passing over the lowly roofs in the depths. Wearrived to dinner at a house on Barber Creek, where we entreatedto be fed without delay, on anything whatsoever that was eatable;as time was precious, this day. Yet were we kept waiting twohours and a half. I found much to do by the creek side watchingthe minnows making their way up against the current; watching twogirls who had set up their washing establishment in pretty styleunder a tree beside the water; their wood fire, black cauldron,and stand of tubs; while the bushes stood round about to be usedas drying horses. I also actually saw a hog voluntarily walkthree times through the clear water; and the delay of the dinnerafforded time for speculation whether the race was not improving.When the dinner was on the table, no one of us could tell what itconsisted of. The dish from which I ate was, according to some,mutton; to others, pork: my own idea is that it was dog. Whateverit was, it was at last done with, and paid for, and I was in mysaddle, listening to the creek as it rattled under the greyrocks. Having crossed one mountain top on foot, in the morning, Iwas about to pass another on my horse this afternoon. There is nodescribing what it is to be pacing upwards, on the extreme edgeof the steep road, with one's feet hanging over the green abyss;the shadowy mountains retreating, advancing, interlacing,opening, to disclose a low far-off bit of meadow, with adiminutive dwelling, quiet as a lonely star. What blessed workroadmaking, must be in such places! It was with no littlepleasure that, after fourteen miles from Barber Creek, I saw afine house on an eminence; and then the town of Fincastle, spreadout below us, on some rising grounds.

The scenes of the day left me little disposed for sociabilityin the evening. We were kept waiting long for supper, by thearrival of a party of New Yorkers; to avoid an introduction towhom, some of us pretended to read, and some to be asleep, whileothers did our duty, talk. The night closed in worthily. From thebalcony of my chamber, I saw how modestly the young moon eyedwith me the region which will be spread before her for ever, butwhich I was looking back upon for the last time.

Here I must break off; and, instead of adding anotherdescription of the Natural Bridge to the hundred which exist,bring into contrast with life at the Virginia Springs, life in aNew England farm-house.

From Harriet Martineau, Society in America, VolumeI, Part II, - Economy, (Section II) - "Springs ofVirginia." London: Saunders and Otley, 1837, pp. 236-260.

Forward to Society in America, Part II,- Economy, (Section III) - "New England Farm-house."

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