The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 9, May, 1835Various
History
The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 9, May, 1835
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
We were now upon the boundary which separates the "Valley" from
Western Virginia. After gazing in admiration on the beauties of the
country through which we had just travelled, I turned to enjoy similar
scenes on the opposite side. But nothing except successive piles of
mountains met the view. The deep vales and sun-tinged peaks, seemed to
be still slumbering in their original wildness, and had it not been
for the traces of art exhibited by our turnpike, and the sight of an
iron foundry in the valley below, I should have been almost forced to
the conclusion, that we were disturbing the silence of those forests
which had never before echoed but to the cry of the panther, or the
war-whoop of the wandering Indian.
Having halted a few minutes, the driver "shod" our coach, and rolling
away with the sound of thunder down the mountain, we reached the inn
where the stage stopped for the night, just as the sun was sinking
behind the western hills. Our landlord and his better half were
themselves Dutch, and had raised up a stout rosy-looking family, who
attended to the domestic concerns of the establishment without the aid
of servants. The house was situated on a level lawn between two lofty
ridges of the Alleghany, part of which was neatly enclosed, and
clothed with the richest green. The domicil itself was one story in
height, with a piazza in front; and the peculiar national taste of the
proprietor could be seen in the free use of red and black paint with
which the establishment was ornamented. But the interior presented an
aspect rather more inviting, after the fatigue of the day's ride. The
snow-white table cloth, and the clean and plain, yet delightful fare,
with which the table was bountifully supplied, gave evidence of the
existence of _taste_ in the culinary department, which amply
compensated for the want of it in matters of less substantial
importance. A handsome coach and four had driven up just as we
arrived. After tea the guests assembled in the piazza, and we passed
away in cheerful conversation the hours of a lovely summer's evening,
in this wild valley among the mountains.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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