First impressions of the New World on two travellers from the Old, in the autumn of 1858Trotter, Isabella Strange
History
First impressions of the New World on two travellers from the Old, in the autumn of 1858
Trotter, Isabella Strange
Canada -- Description and travel; United States -- Description and travel
We now entered on what is called the "Cheat River Region," and the
descent to Grafton (a distance of thirty miles) is even more beautiful
than the ascent to Altamont. To give you some slight idea of the nature
of the road and of the scenery, I enclose a photograph of one of the
bridges over the Cheat River. This is called the Tray Run Viaduct, and
it is 640 feet long; the masonry is seventy-eight feet high, and the
iron-work above that is eighty feet. The road here is about seven
hundred feet above the river, which runs in the valley below. This
river, the Cheat, is a dark, rapid, mountain stream, the waters of which
are almost of a coffee-colour, owing, it is said, to its rising in
forests of laurel and black spruce, with which the high lands here
abound.
We passed hereabouts many curious-looking log houses, a photograph of
one of which we enclose.[7] You will observe the man with a cradle by
his side, and his whip, gun, bottle, jar, &c., also the chimney, which
is a remarkable structure, consisting of a barrel above a heap of
stones, showing the resources of the West.
Before reaching Grafton, we passed the Great Kingwood tunnel, which is
much thought of in America, being 4100 feet in length, though it is
greatly beat by many of our tunnels in England; but tunnels are rare in
America, as the roads generally run through the valleys.
We reached Grafton at four o'clock, and had a lovely afternoon to
explore the beauties of the neighbourhood. We went into a number of
cottages and log-huts, and were delighted with the people; but the
details of our Grafton visit must be given to you _viva voce_ on our
return. The night was brilliant, and it was one o'clock in the morning
before we took our last look of the moonlit valley, and of the rivers
which here joined their streams almost under the windows of our rooms.
We may mention that in this day's journey, we passed the source of the
Monongahela, the chief branch of what afterwards becomes the Ohio. It is
here a tiny little clear stream, winding through the glades we have
spoken of.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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