University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XXI.

BLUE SULPHUR SPRINGS.

The Blue Sulphur Spring is situated in the
County of Greenbrier, in a beautiful valley,
through which flows a streamlet bearing the
unclassical name of Muddy Creek. It is
twenty-two miles, in nearly a western direction,
from the White Sulphur, on the road to
Guyandotte, and thirty-two miles north by
east of the Red Sulphur, with which it is now
connected by a fine turnpike road. The improvements
consist of a brick Hotel—180 feet
long, and 50 feet wide, 100 feet of which is
three stories, the remainder two stories, with a
portico 12 feet wide the whole length. Attached
to this building is another, two stories
high, 90 by 32 feet; and adjoining this latter
is a two story brick building, 150 by 17 feet,
also having a two story piazza. The whole
of these piazzas connect; making a continuous
piazza of 420 feet. This range of buildings
affords a dining-room 180 by 30 feet, two

large receiving rooms, a ball and drawing-room,
bar-room, counting-room, and a large
number of very comfortable chambers, most
of them having fireplaces. At the north end
of the Hotel are several brick cottages containing
two and three rooms each, for families;
and several frame cabins in the lawn. We
think the establishment can comfortably accommodate
220 persons. We said that this
valley is beautiful; we should, perhaps, have
said, it has been. Fuit Ilium. Never have
we seen bad taste more unfortunately illustrated
than here. It seems as if the designer
had his brain obfuscated by mint-julap.
What man in his sober senses could have ever
thought of spoiling a lovely valley like this,
admitting a prospect of several miles, by throwing
across it from hill to hill a long line of
buildings which could have been so easily and
so gracefully ranged along the sides; not only
obstructing the view, but also preventing the
delightful current of air which otherwise
would have fanned it in the dog-days? Not
content even with this piece of botching, they
must permit Dr. Martin to erect his tartarean
ovens also across the valley, leaving the
Temple containing the Spring, and the lawn
in which it stands, bounded by brick walls
and mountains. We found Dr. Martin a polite
old gentleman; but we wished he had
been a bird of passage, and could have carried
his nest in his bill, never again to mar
this charming valley. We were angry enough
to throw him into his own boiler, or worse, to
consign him to the care of Dr. Moorman, who
might cause him to evolve gas in the stomach,
for such an act of barbaric taste. Notwithstanding
all that has been done to spoil this
place, it is still interesting and beautiful: indeed
it will compare favourably with any of
the watering places in this region. The Spring
rises in the centre of the vale, and is covered
by a well-designed but badly executed Temple.
The fountain is enclosed in marble slabs, is
five feet in diameter, and one of the most
beautiful objects imaginable. The sides are
covered with a brilliant pink deposit, and the
clear, cool, crystalline water seems to say,
"Come and drink me." It flows off in a large
stream, and is conveyed by pipes to Dr. Martin's
baths. It appears that after the Temple
was built, our old friend Major Vass (our informant
is Dr. Martin) undertook to arrange
the fountain so as to square with the building;
but at that very time, a hail-storm,
mingled with mountain-dew or fog, happened
to set in, which so blinded himself and workmen,
that notwithstanding the remonstrances
of the said Dr. Martin, (who happened to be
sheltered from the storm by one of the columns,
and could, therefore, see the work was not
square,) the angles of the fountain were made
to deflect some 18 or 20 degrees from their intended
position; the Major, all the time, swearing
all was as straight as a shingle.

This, with a little embellishment, is Dr.
Martin's version of the story, which he narrated
with the grace of a French comedian;
if the worthy Major give his version in time
for the next edition, we shall insert it with
pleasure. The temperature of this water is
about 53 degrees: it is pleasant to the palate,
but it is a heavy water: it imparts not the
agreeable feeling to the stomach which is imparted
by the White Sulphur; nor does it possess
that light tranquillizing property that
characterizes the Red Sulphur. Our opinion
of this water is founded on a slight acquaintance,

and therefore we desire that it may
be taken only for what it may be deemed
worth; but we have taken this impression
with regard to it, that it cannot be drunk in
as large quantity as either the White, or Red,
or Salt, with equal advantage. We are perfectly
satisfied it is a valuable water; but dyspeptics,
especially, may do well to begin, at
least, with small potations, and if they find it
agree, it is easy enough to increase the quantity.
Indeed, it would be well if this course
were pursued with all those waters; but unhappily
this view is taken by a very limited
number of those who visit mineral waters. A
peculiar merit is claimed for this water in regulating
certain periodical secretions; but we
are disposed to think its power in this respect
is exaggerated; at least, that it has no specific
action different from other sulphur waters.
Let the ladies try, though, and judge for
themselves.

Dr. Martin, a Frenchman, has, as the reader
is already aware, erected a Bathing establishment
at this place. His arrangements are
quite extensive and well contrived, and enable
him to give plain or medicated baths of

any temperature. There can be no question
of the utility of these baths, if judiciously administered;
they would be equally deleterious
in the hands of an empiric or a selfish, disingenuous
man. The only knowledge we
have of Dr. Martin is derived from a brief acquaintance,
during which he was most agreeable
and attentive, and we understand this is
his uniform manner. He is courteous, affable,
communicative, and on the subject of Vapour
Baths he is always fluent, nay, sometimes
eloquent. We could perceive he was an
especial favourite with the ladies. And, now,
we owe the Dr. an apology for being so rude
as to wish him subjected to the manipulations
of Dr. Moorman. Indeed, Dr., we were joking!
We are sure you prefer your own
odoriferous vapours to those evolved by your
learned neighbour.

The Blue Sulphur property is owned by a
company of gentlemen, one of whom, George
Buster, Esq., resides at the place, and conducts
the establishment. It would be doing great
injustice not to say that the style of living
here is more elegant than we have met with at
any of the Springs. The furniture is better,

the appearance of the table is neater, and
every thing bespeaks comfort and attention.
We have seen quite as good things at other
Springs, but nowhere as well served, except,
perhaps, at the Warm Springs and Salt Sulphur.
Mr. Buster himself made a favourable
impression on us, and our inquiries satisfied
us that our prepossession was justified,
by his uniformly estimable deportment. We
trust he will reap the just reward of his attention
in an annually increasing company.

DAGGER'S, OR DIBRELL'S SPRING.

Dagger's, or Dibrell's Spring, is situated in
a glade near the western base of the Garden
Mountain, on the main road from Lynchburg
to the White Sulphur, via the Natural Bridge,
from which it is distant about 14 miles.

We were informed by the worthy proprietor,
Charles L. Dibrell, that the number of
visiters sometimes reached 200; but we should
think 150 as large a number as could be accommodated
with any degree of comfort. The
buildings are well arranged for convenience
and effect. The lawn is a very beautiful
slope, descending from the Hotel to the Spring
some 300 yards, and is well shaded by fine
indigenous trees. Altogether, it is an interesting
spot, and affords to the weary traveller,
after a long day's journey, a sweet haven of
repose and quietude, from whence he may retrace,
with his mind's eye, the magnificent
scenery he has just passed, and especially that
most sublime of all the creations of Nature in

Virginia—the passage of the James River
through the Blue Ridge Mountain. This
scene is incomparably finer than that at Harper's
Ferry; but magnificent as it appears
from the road, it must be inconceivably more
so from the bed of the river. It is through
this wonderful gorge that the great James
River and Kanawha Canal is to pass, and we
venture to predict that this scene alone will be
worth to the company tens of thousands.

In our enthusiasm we had almost forgotten
the Natural Bridge. Of the latter it is impossible
to convey any adequate description; it
must be seen to be appreciated; but let the
reader loiter under or over this great arch for
an hour or two, and after partaking of a substantial
dinner with the Pontifex, if so we
may call the important personage who supplies
bacon and beans, let him wind his onward
way under the cone of the Garden Mountain,
and our word for it, he will find the kind
attentions, the delightful fare, and comfortable
lodgings of our friend, Mr. Dibrell, irresistible
inducements to rest for a few days.

The Sulphur water at this place is said to
be efficacious in several diseases, but on this

head we have no information within our reach
on which reliance may be placed. It bears
some similarity to the White and Blue Sulphur
waters, and is probably in some degree
applicable to the same class of diseases.

Within the last three years, this Spring has
reverted to Mr. Watkins, from whom, we believe,
it was purchased by Mr. Dibrell. We
hear it is well kept, and attracts a due share
of custom.

ALUM SPRINGS.

These Springs are situated in Rockbridge
County, on the main road from Lexington to
the Warm Springs, about 17 miles from the
former, and 20 miles from the latter. The location
is a narrow valley, between the North
Mountain on the east, and the Mill Mountain
on the west. You descend into it, from the
high-road, by a steep and narrow road, and
you think you are then fairly within the south
pole, for if you desire to emerge again, you
must come out through the same hole by
which you entered. The cleared space, including
a meadow to the north of the buildings,
is fifteen acres; so, it will be perceived,
there is not much room for circumambulation,
unless, indeed, you are as fond of climbing as
the caprine race.

The buildings for the accommodation of
visiters are a frame house of two stories, containing
a dining-room, a parlour, dancing-hall,
and several lodging-rooms, and at either end

are six cabins, containing each two rooms.
The centre building immediately fronts the
Springs, and is about sixty yards distant.
There is a broad walk from one to the other,
and a circular road or walk for carriages to approach
the door; but, with these exceptions,
the grounds are pretty much as they came
from the hands of nature. The hill, at the
base of which are the Springs, forms a graceful
curve of almost mathematical regularity,
and is about 100 feet high. It was so nearly
perpendicular at some former time as to have
produced an avalanche of the soil, which denuded
a stratum of slate-rock some sixty feet
in height, with a north-eastern dip. At the
bottom, three basins have been picked out,
and into these, inaptly called Springs, oozes
the water through the interstices of the rock.

In dry weather, the supply is very scanty.
A hundred persons might drink them dry; but
in wet weather they afford an abundance, and,
contrary to all other waters, are then strongest;
for the rain water acts as a solvent of
the mineral which seems incorporated with
the whole formation. The water is in demand
from a distance, and is sold by the proprietors

at $4 per bbl. Some take selected
pieces of the rock, which they pound and put
into rain water. By this process, it is said, a
water equally efficient is prepared, and we
doubt not such is the fact. Pills are also made
of the residuum after boiling, which seem to
possess most of the virtues of the water.
They dissolve slowly in the mouth, and it appears
to us this would be a more judicious
mode of using them than swallowing them
entire. No analysis has yet appeared of this
water. Besides alum, it certainly contains
copperas, and is supposed also to contain
magnesia. Many wonderful tales are told
of cases of scrofula cured by the water. Making
due allowance for exaggeration, (and
we imagine there has been a good deal of it
in this case,) there must have been several
well-authenticated cases of relief, if not of
cure; and to persons afflicted with that unmanageable
disease, it is certainly worthy of a
trial. We met there an able physician of the
U. S. Navy, who expressed confidence in its
powers. We also saw a friend who has visited
the place annually, for several years, with
his family, members of whom had derived
great benefit. We can readily believe that it
would be a useful remedy in cutaneous eruptions,
and in some forms of diarrhœa; but it
is now recommended for liver complaints, and
all other complaints, from the beginning to the
end of the catalogue. So far from being general
in its application, we should consider it as
the water least capable of being profitably employed
in any variety of diseases, of all the
waters in the mountains. Here we found
persons who were drinking twenty or more
glasses a day of an agent confessedly very
powerful for good or for evil. Surely this is an
abuse, and can result in no advantage.

The establishment, which is calculated to
accommodate about eighty persons, (though
the number has exceeded a hundred,) is owned
by a family of the name of Campbell. Two
brothers leased the ground for a term of
years, at the expiration of which it reverts,
with all the improvements, to the heirs, of
whom we learn there are eight. It is not probable
that the improvements will ever be much
more extensive than they are at present; indeed,
the character of the locality, the want
of arable or pasture land, and the difficulty of

procuring supplies, will prevent its growth.
The Mill Mountain, eight miles on one side
without a habitation, and the North Mountain
on the other, have to be crossed in order to
hunt up supplies for the company that now
frequents it. The fare is wholesome, but plain,
and indifferently served. It is the old style of
mountain cooking; well enough for a hungry
hearty man, but not very inviting to an invalid.
The private cook of a plain farmer in
the mountains of Virginia cannot be supposed
competent to cook for 100 persons, who have
been accustomed to neat and comfortable living.
We would therefore urge upon the
Messrs. Campbell the importance of making a
change in this department of their household;
and we hope they will not take it amiss, when
we advise a little more care in helping their
guests. No matter how good the meat may
be, nor how well cooked, if you cut it as you
would for a dog, you get no credit for its quality;
indeed, we noticed this to be a very general
fault at the Springs we visited, and we
desire to be understood as throwing out the
hint for all such as are careless in this particular.
They have fallen on another plan, too,
of helping a man so scantily that a very moderate
eater can dispose of the whole in one
morsel: this is ridiculous and annoying. A
man dislikes to be sending his plate repeatedly
away, and is justly irritated.

We found the Messrs. Campbell sufficiently
obliging, and their sister, who attended to the
female department, seemed a kind, motherly
woman. The plan on which the establishment
seems to be conducted is to do all they can
within themselves. It is the true plan, and the
only one by which money can be saved; but
yet, there are certain things indispensable, and
if they cannot be supplied from within, they
should be sought for abroad. We have very
little doubt that this place has made more
clear money than places of much greater pretension.
If these gentlemen keep a neat, comfortable
house, we are sure they will do a
profitable business.

FAUQUIER WHITE SULPHUR SPRING.

As the epicure leaves the most delicate morsel
for the last, so we have reserved for the
last place in our book the description of this
most charming establishment; and having
thus, contrary to our original design, entered
upon the Springs of Eastern Virginia, we
will probably, at some future day, embrace all
the others, and perhaps the Bedford Springs of
Pennsylvania. On the 19th of July, 1844,
after an early breakfast, a horseman, accompanied
by a young lady, also mounted on her palfrey,
left the comfortable Hotel at Fredericksburg,
and crossing the Bridge to Falmouth,
took the road leading to the Springs. The
road for several miles from Falmouth was
rough and the scenery uninteresting. At the
end of twelve miles, they reached a very plain
frame house, whitewashed, and, at some little
distance, looking as if the occupant had, benevolently,
bored holes all over it, for those
gay little annual visiters, the martens. A

nearer view, however, exhibited the reality,
which was nothing more than circular black
spots made with lampblack, on the whitewashed
boards. The notion was queer, and the
travellers deeming it probable that the Spotted
Tavern might not only afford them shelter
from a burning sun, but also some amusement,
determined to dismount, and explore the premises.
Reining up their steeds, two lusty negresses,
who had been scouring the porch with
all their might, came forward and took charge
of the horses, and a blast from a horn soon
brought up the ostler. Entering the house,
the travellers were agreeably surprised by the
neat appearance of every thing around them.
The floor, the furniture, the snow-white tablecloth,
the clean tea-things, the nice biscuits
and cool, fresh butter, all, all were most inviting.
The travellers did ample justice to a second
breakfast. How refreshing it is to one,
who has been living in the city, to get into a
nice country house. You are so much at your
ease, your spirits are so calmed and tranquillized.
Where, too, but in the country, can
you get a draught of clear, cool water from the
limpid spring, or deep well? Certainly, not
in Richmond, where you have to pay ten dollars
a year for the privilege of swallowing
mud. A well-bred horse, in the country,
would refuse to drink such water as a Christian
people are taxed for in the metropolis of Virginia.

After a day spent most agreeably, partly
under a beautiful arbour, the travellers mounted
for White Ridge, distant about eight miles.
The view of the mountains in approaching
this place was pleasing, and they had formed
altogether favourable anticipations. The host
and hostess were kind, but not very well prepared
to entertain travellers. The little upstairs
rooms in which they were sent to lodge
were so suffocating, that after throwing open
his window, the elder traveller lay across his
bed, with his head on the window-sill, to try
and inhale a little fresh air; while his more
delicate companion was suffering all the tortures
which such an atmosphere could inflict.
How they rejoiced at "the morning's first
beam." How hurriedly they huddled on their
clothes, and descended to the porch, and looked
out upon the distant hills, and inhaled the
balmy air. Here, too, they exclaimed, is the

lovely country; but it is distance alone that
lends it enchantment; so, let us mount and
breakfast in Germantown. The travellers
did mount, and entertained themselves by
speculating on the subject of Germantown:
how many stores and blacksmiths' shops and
taverns were in this imaginary village. They
were told that after riding ten miles they must
turn off a little from the main road, and having
followed directions, they arrived in due
time at Germantown. Suddenly burst upon
the view the Germantown Inn, alone in its
glory. It was a frame house, Low Dutch in
appearance, having a neglected air, and the best-looking
furniture it possessed seemed to consist
of white-headed children. The travellers ordered
breakfast, paid for it, ate nothing, and
again to horse and away ten miles, under a
scorching sun, for the White Sulphur; where
they arrived about noon, hungry, thirsty, and
exhausted. It is only adventures and contrasts,
such as those travellers encountered, that
can give zest to country excursions. A cit.
leaves Boston and is whirled along with his
head swimming all the time, and though he
passes magnificent scenery and lovely villages,
so far as enjoyment is concerned, he had as
well be blind. In a few hours, he reaches Albany,
is treading upon India matting, sipping
sherbet, smoking his cigar, and looking dignity.
Again, crack goes the driver's whip,
and he is rolled along in a fine coach, and
struts his little hour upon the stage at Saratoga.
Who meets him here? The same man
to whom, two days ago, he sold $10,000 worth
of rail-road stock, in Boston. Ha! Smart,
are you here? spending your profits on that
speculation, I suppose? $500—that is all I
made—Gulley, nothing to talk about. What
news? eh! the Great Western arrived—
cotton flat—bread-stuffs looking up—rail-roads
in England all the rage—and here? Oh!
here, the centre of attraction is Miss Flora
Roseneath—cool $250,000, and 150 darkies;
and Miss Julia Winterblossom, sole heiress to
a great shoe-manufacturer at Lynn—only
half a million! 'Pon my soul, Smart, good
stock this! Suppose we try a hand—have
you any qualms about the woollies? You
know I am somewhat of an abolitionist; so,
here is for Lynn and Julia. She has, indeed, a
few carbuncles on her cheeks, but the essence
of gold-dust is a fine cosmetic, and will presently
heal them. Well, Gulley, agreed:
Miss Flora and the darkies, against Julia and
the brogans. A pair of pumps to the winner,
eh! a bargain, a bargain: and thus the speculators
in stocks become speculators in matrimony.
Such is Saratoga, and such a great
portion of the matériel of which its society is
made up. That matériel wants, and ever
will want, the enchanting simplicity of manner,
dignity of deportment, and air of true
gentility, founded on benevolence and forgetfulness
of self, which distinguish nature's gentleman
from the mere cockney and pretender.
We are fully aware that the élite of American
society annually assemble, in large numbers,
at Saratoga. From all points of the compass
they flock to that fashionable resort. But we
assert that there is more of the pure ore, and
less alloy to be met with, in the society annually
visiting our watering-places, than is to be
met with north of the Susquehanna. The
day may come when, through the agency of
rail-roads, it will be otherwise; but, sufficient
for the day is the evil thereof; meantime, let
us enjoy the blessings within our reach, and
not forget the claims of the beautiful Fauquier
Springs.

It appears from a report now before us, that
the "medicinal qualities of the Mineral Spring
were known and highly appreciated in the
neighbourhood, long before it became an object
of general resort. The resort of the
neighbourhood was constant and persevering,
and caused such interruption to the farm
operations of the former proprieters as induced
one of them to fill up the Spring; but
so clearly had its value been established, as induced
Mr. Lee to purchase it with a view to
open it to the public. His experiment was at
first on a small scale, but the throng of visiters
soon demonstrated the expediency of more extended
operations, and a greater outlay of capital.
Mr. Green united with Mr. Lee in the
enterprise. They have planned and executed
improvements, better calculated to promote the
comfort and please the taste of visiters, than
are to be found at any other watering-place in
the State. The buildings already constructed
might accommodate 800 guests, and are so
contrived as to admit of indefinite enlargement
without deranging the symmetry of the plan."

The improvements are—a Pavilion, 188
feet long and four stories high, with a grand
Portico on its western aspect, overlooking the
lawn and a long line of diversified country.
We have seen nothing of the kind to compare
with this magnificent promenade; we mean,
of course, in the country. On the eastern aspect,
it was the design of the proprietors to
erect a similar Portico, and to connect that
front by means of an arch with another Pavilion
east of it, 100 feet long and four stories
high; but when the timbers were all ready,
the workshop was destroyed by fire, and this
part of the design remaining unexecuted,
gives an unfinished appearance to this front
of the great Pavilion. We trust that, one
day or other, the original plan will be carried
out, and sure we are, that if its projector,
Thomas Green, Esq., becomes again largely
interested in the property, his fine taste as
well as good judgment will insure its completion.
Besides the two great pavilions just
described, there are two large brick buildings,
three stories high—two others, 56 feet long
each, and two stories high—and twelve other
brick buildings, 56 feet long each—(all covered

with slate except one)—the Bath-house and
the Spring House. All these improvements
and 1184 acres of land, together with a
tract of 1750 acres, lying south of the Rappahannock
River, were conveyed in August,
1837, to a company in 2500 shares at $68
per share, making for the whole $170,000,
by the then proprietors, Thomas Green
and Hancock Lee. By this company it
has since been held. They have made
no important improvements since that period,
and their policy seems to have been to
keep free of debt and wait for better times.
Such times are now fast approaching, if
no wicked experiments again dash the
cup from the lips, and there is little doubt
that the investment in this property will
yield a fair return. The arrangements have
been much and justly praised. If one who
can lay but little claim to taste in landscape
may venture an opinion, he would suggest
that the grounds are too much broken up
by walks and shrubbery. The parterre
style of laying out grounds is now properly
abandoned. A beautifully green and shaven
sward, with a great centre-walk, as now, and
other walks such as convenience might dictate,
with, here and there, a rose-bush or shrub,
would be infinitely more pleasing to a cultivated
taste, than all the superfluous ornaments,
that now, like flounces and French millinery,
hide its symmetry and elegance. If the company
would act upon this hint, and, placing a
simple but beautiful Pagoda on the summit
of the lovely western hill, immediately in
front of the centre of the Pavilion, would
transfer to that place some of the shrubbery
now in the way, and improve the grounds in
that direction by well-graded walks, furnished
with rustic lounges and resting-places for pedestrians,
and make a handsome drive for
those who are ambitious to display a fine
equipage, all which could be done at a moderate
expense, we know of no place that may
vie with the Fauquier Springs.

The interior arrangements of the Pavilions
and Cabins are well calculated to afford comfort.
The ball-room, drawing-room, dining-room,
and parlours, are all spacious and suitably
furnished. We must, nevertheless, say,
that at the time of our visit, when the company

did not exceed fifty, we were greatly disappointed
in the appearance of the table.
The table-cloth was coarse, and not of snowy
whiteness; the china chipped and broken;
the knives and forks neither sharp nor well
cleaned, and there were other signs of a "falling
off," which we could have wished had not
been so palpable. We deem this miserable
economy, and hope it has been corrected.

Mr. Ward, the manager of the establishment,
is an amiable and kind landlord, and
we are sure he is disposed to do all in his power
to make his guests comfortable; but he cannot
do it if stinted in the means. A certain
degree of style in living is expected at a place,
the exterior of which is so imposing, and it is
true policy to maintain appearances all through
the establishment. The encouragement held
out to the company by the success of last season
will, no doubt, induce them to supply
every thing essential to comfort.

No analysis of this water, of an authentic
character, has been made public. It neither
possesses saline matter nor sulphuretted hydrogen
in as large quantities as the Western
White Sulphur, nor is it comparable to it as a

medicinal agent; but there are cases to which
the latter is unsuited that would be benefited
here; certainly, it would be a more rational
plan to use this or some other milder water
than to drink stale water in the county of
Greenbrier or Boston. We are well satisfied
that this water is valuable in Dyspepsia. It
is light, and feels comforting to the stomach in
most instances. With the aid of a little blue
mass, it will also be found useful in exciting to
action a torpid condition of the liver, and we
can readily suppose that it may prove useful in
dropsy and several diseases for which resort is
had to Sulphur waters. There is here a
most comfortable Bathing establishment, which
greatly enhances the advantages it presents in
other matters, and those advantages must insure
to this place a steadily increasing custom,
and cause it to rank in point of numbers and
fashion among the first of the Virginia Springs.

TAVERNS.

The notice we took of the "Spotted Tavern,"
on the road to Fauquier Springs, was incidental.
It was not our intention to touch on
this subject, lest we might do injustice to some
of those who deserve well of travellers by
keeping comfortable and neat accommodation
along the different routes to the Virginia
Springs. Of the houses on the road from Guyandotte
to White Sulphur, we know nothing;
but presume, as it has been so long the great
stage route, they are good. On the road from
Lynchburg to Sweet Springs, there is a delightful
house kept at New London, by Mr.
Eccoles. The house at Liberty is an excellent
house; at Beaufort's, plentiful and neat:
at Fincastle, the tavern is, or was, well kept
by Mr. Lancaster; and we found the stagehouse,
kept by Scott, west of Price's Mountain,
a very good house. The Eagle Hotel, at
Charlottesville, we found admirably kept, this
last summer; Cocke's is an old stand, well

known; the rooms and beds are comfortable, and
the servants attentive. The fare is such as is
usually found at stage-houses—the same now
it was fifteen years ago. The house is neat,
and comfortably furnished. Brookville Tavern
is said to be well kept, as also the house
of Mrs. Jones, in Waynesboro'.

The houses west of Staunton are pretty
much on a par, with the exception we shall
notice by-and-by. The houses at Winchester,
Fredericksburg, Lynchburg, and Staunton, are
quite respectable, and afford the traveller much
comfort. There is, on the road from Waynesboro'
to Lexington, a house at Greensville, kept
by a Mr. Smith, which is most comfortable.
This family know what good living is, and
are kind and attentive. There are two other
houses in the village, said also to be very
good. The stage-house, and only house at
Lexington, we found crowded, as we were told
it usually is, in summer. It is kept by Mr.
Sloan, a very kind and agreeable man. The
fare was moderately good, but the servants
either had too much to do, or were incompetent.

There are, on the road from Charlottesville
to White Sulphur, two localities so favourable

as resting-places for the weary traveller, that
we cannot pass them over without a more extended
notice. In doing this, we are altogether
influenced by the desire to benefit the traveller,
and not by any disposition to invidiously discriminate.
The houses to which we refer are
the Mountain Top and Callaghan's.

The house on Mountain Top is on the
western slope of the Blue Ridge, at Rock-fish
Gap, and about 150 yards from the summit.
Above it, rises a cone of the mountain inclining
southwest; and to the northeast is another
conical mountain, both several hundred
feet higher than the house. The view from
the Road-summit or Gap, commanding a varied
prospect of mountains, forests, and cultivated
plains, is, indeed, very fine. In the morning,
you may see the glorious God of day emerging
from his curtains of purple and gold, and
shaking from his locks the dewy drops of Ocean,
and with a benign radiance illuming the welcoming
features of his fruitful sister. Here,
again, at mellow evening, you may see him
descending in majestic dignity beneath the
great Appalachian Mountains, gilding, in his
descent, the green forests and fleecy clouds,

creating a thousand fanciful shapes of castles
and giants, old ladies with high caps, graceful
giraffes and clumsy elephants. But the view
from the point designated is limited in comparison
with those that may be obtained by
ascending, as we did, the impending cone, by
a path which admits of riding within a few
yards of the summit. On the hill-side we
found a finely-set crop of clover, and near the
top a cow, that seemed indignantly to frown
upon us, and silently to say, "Thou intruder,
what doest thou here?" At the highest cleared
point was a cluster of disjointed sand-rocks,
in the centre of which rose a sturdy oak, which
seemed to bid defiance to the tempests; yet
the tempests came and shattered one of its
arms, while the humble and shrinking shrubbery
around it remained undamaged: so it is
in human life; those who expose themselves
to its tempestuous hurricanes, must, indeed, be
clad in panoply, if they escape unscathed;
while the gentle and retiring are sheltered
from its frowns and its malice. The former
may be greater benefactors of society, the latter
are more happy within themselves. Carefully
observing there was no rattlesnake in
juxtaposition, we seated ourself upon the
highest crag, and thence viewed two-thirds of
the horizon. Having already given expression
to our feelings on similar occasions, we
will not fatigue the reader by a repetition; suffice
it say, that if any one shall think proper to
follow in our footsteps, he will be amply repaid
by the scene which we witnessed. Let him
go alone, too, and feel that there is nothing
but the pure canopy of Heaven above him,
and no eye that can look down upon him, but
that of his God.

Our object in dwelling upon the glorious
prospects afforded by this place, has been to
attract to it public attention; but we should
do great injustice were we to pass, in silence,
its other advantages. A purer air never
breathed on this earth than fans the apartments
of this Mountain House, which is, indeed,
admirably divided and adapted for the
entertainment of families. If we are not mistaken,
it was built, with that view, by the
late Dr. Adams, of Richmond, a man who was
in advance of the age in which he lived, whose
plans, during his life, were scoffed at by puny
minds, but who, if he had lived to the present

day, might see their merit appropriated by persons
who, when he digested those plans, were
in the womb of time, or, at least, in petticoats.
We remember when this house was neatly
kept by the Misses Madison. After that period,
being owned by a bachelor, Mr. Leake, it
was, for several years, not open for entertainment.
Lately, however, it has been opened
by the brother of Mr. Leake, and is now kept
in the neatest and most comfortable manner.
Here the traveller will find good bread, both
corn and wheat bread, nice biscuits, good tea
and coffee, well-cooked meats, and a delightfully
neat-spread table. He will have a fine
airy chamber, a sweet bed, a pure atmosphere,
cool porticoes and passages, and a giant walnut
tree, under the shade of which he may swing
himself to sleep in an old-fashioned arm-chair.
This house is distant from Weyer's Cave only
twelve miles, and is a convenient spot from
which to visit that celebrated freak of nature,
and from it may be taken various pleasant excursions
through the neighbouring valleys.
Taking all these advantages into consideration,
and moreover, the excellence of the pure
freestone water, and the use of a good chalybeate
water, and last, though not least, the
kind attention of the host and hostess, we do
trust that Mountain Top will not be passed
without a look by the traveller.

Come we now to Callaghan's. This house
is situated in an interesting valley, on the
north fork of Dunlap's Creek, and at the intersection
of the great eastern and western
road, with those to Covington and the Sweet
Springs. It would be impossible for any location
to be more favourable for a public house,
and, accordingly, it has always been a great
resort of travel. It was originally owned and
kept by Dennis Callaghan, an honest, blunt
old Irishman, of whose witty drolleries many
are recollected and repeated by the more elderly
travellers. The property is now owned by
his son, an amiable, unassuming man, though
as far beyond his father, in cultivation, as Diomedes
was beyond Tydeus in war. In no establishment
west of the Blue Ridge has the
march of improvement been more visible than
at this. The house is, all through, neat and
clean and suitably furnished, and the fare is
most excellent. Reader, if you have never
eaten fried chicken at Callaghan's, then you

do not know the luxury of fried chicken. No
French cook can touch it. There is a delicacy
about it which you will say you never
experienced before. Perfectly done—it is unscorched,
white, plump, tender, delicious. It
makes our mouth water at the distance of 200
miles. It is not worth a journey across the
Atlantic, but if it were at Harper's Ferry, it
would make the scene more picturesque: it is
the ambrosia of meats—a food which Ganymede
may feel proud of serving. We could
give you a recipe for preparing it, but we fear
you would not follow directions, and you
would then imagine we are "romancing." Far
from it, we assure you; but this is not all; we
defy Hebe herself to serve up nectar equal to
Callaghan's milk; it is the essence of milk.
We will lead you a little into the secret of its excellence.
First, then, the cows are fed plentifully
on sweet grass and wholesome provender,
well salted and attended; secondly, the
spring-house is of equal temperature, and it
and the vessels kept neat and pure; thirdly,
it is never skimmed for table use; but the
morning's milk is used for dinner and supper,
and the cream is diffused through it by gently
whisking it. In like manner, the night's milk
is used in the morning, and all extravagance
apart, there is no milk superior to Callaghan's
on the broad earth. Here, too, the traveller
will find a species of bread vulgarly called saltrising,
which will cure dyspepsia, if any thing
can. The table is always supplied with tender
venison steak and other delicacies, and,
upon the whole, this is one of the best public
houses any where to be met with in the country.
When you visit Callaghan's, kind reader,
after journeying through our book, or
drinking stale water with Dr. Moorman, the
best thing we can wish you is a good appetite,
which we do with all our heart.