The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 11, July, 1835Various
General
The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 11, July, 1835
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
From the section of country which we had left behind us, rose Keeny's
Nob, a huge peak upon which the Indians used to light signal fires,
and which derived its name from some romantic circumstance--rearing
its summit far above the adjacent mountains, and spreading out its
swelling sides and the projections of its base over the neighboring
country; from this, and continuing round to the right, before us, were
alternate ridges and vallies, covered with dense forest, as yet
apparently untouched by the woodman's axe, and only broken by the
Greenbrier river, whose high and bleak naked cliffs could be seen at
the distance of some miles. Beyond, was Peter's Mountain, coming down
from the west, and running off to the east, in a straight unbroken
line. Immediately before us, were the variegated fields of a few rich
grazing farms. Farther on, the mountain upon which Lewisburg is
situated, excluding the White Sulphur from the view; and in the
distance, the "back bone" of the Alleghany, which you cross five miles
beyond the White Sulphur on the turnpike, whose line could be
occasionally discerned as it wound among the spurs of the mountain. To
the left lay some cultivated country, terminated by ridges upon ridges
of mountains. The sun was in the last hour of his daily course, and
with his evening rays illumined the hills, giving the varied hues,
from the brightest to the deepest green, to the waste of "silent
wilderness" which stretched far away to that quarter of the horizon.
We were soon, however, obliged to relinquish this scene, combining so
much of the grand, beautiful and sublime, and hasten down the
mountain, in order to get as far as possible through the worst of the
hills and hollows before night should overtake us.
I took the stage at Lewisburg next morning, and by noon arrived at the
Salt Sulphur, which was now thronged, and exhibiting all the life, and
bustle, and fashion, which crowds of the gay and wealthy bring with
them. Every garret and domicil about the establishment, capable of
being slept in, had been called into requisition the night before. We
heard, before reaching the Springs, that the proprietors, on the
previous evening, had sent on to stop visiters bound thither, in
Union, until quarters should be vacated at the Salt Sulphur. All the
crowding, however, could not interfere with the perfect system of this
establishment. Every thing went on with as much regularity, and in the
same comfortable style, as when there were but fifty visiters. After
spending a few days very pleasantly at this place, I secured a seat in
Shank's fine line of coaches for the Sweet Springs, about twenty-two
miles southeast of the Salt Sulphur.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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