Greenbrier County, West Virginia - VISIT TO THE VIRGINIA SPRINGS - Part 3

***********************************************************************
USGENWEB NOTICE:  These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in
any format for profit or presentation by any other organization or
persons.  Persons or organizations desiring to use this material,
must obtain the written consent of the contributor, or the legal
representative of the submitter, and contact the listed USGenWeb
archivist with proof of this consent.
***********************************************************************

Transcribed and submitted by Valerie F. Crook, vfcrook @earthlink.net
August 1998

VISIT TO THE VIRGINIA SPRINGS, No. I 
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
VISIT TO THE VIRGINIA SPRINGS,
During the Summer of 1834
NO. I.

On the morning of a bright and beautiful day early in July, I resumed my seat in the 
mail coach at Lexington, with the prospect of soon reaching the Virginia Springs. The 
line having been recently established was as yet little known, and on this occasion I
was the only passenger. Ample opportunity was afforded for viewing the charming scenery
which surrounds this village; and, certainly, the world can scarcely present a more 
lovely landscape than that which lay before us as we entered upon the turnpike which
leads to the Springs.

At the foot of the hill which we were descending, "Woods's Creek" was stealing along 
through the shaded retreats and the velvet green which lines its banks; the adjoining 
hills were crowned with waving fields, now ripening for the harvest; the chimnies of 
the "Mulberry Hill" residence could just be seen, peering above the groves and the 
foliage which throw their charms around its retirement; the ruins of the "Old Academy"
- where Alexander, Baxter, Matthews, Rice, and others of the first men in the Presbyterian 
Church were educated, - with its mouldering, ivy-covered walls, stood in melancholy 
solitude on the borders of the neighboring forest. Beyond, was the rolling country in
its variety of scenery; and in the back ground, the House, Jump and North Mountains
marking their clear outline, against the deep azure of a cloudless sky.

After winding among the hills for a few hours, we came in view of the long, unbroken 
range of mountains, over which we were to pass; and though still some miles from the
base, the road could be distinctly traced, running in straight, and then in zigzag 
directions along the precipitous ascent.  Soon after, we commenced our slow progress
up the mountain, which might have been tedious had it not been that every successive
moment which increased our elevation, revealed new beauties. The road itself is one 
of the curiosities of this region; it would scarcely seem possible for the ingenuity 
and energy of man to construct so safe and so delightful a passage over these rough 
and almost perpendicular ridges. At one point you may look from your carriage window 
upon the traveller some fifty feet below, parallel with yourself, and, paradoxical as
it may appear, proceeding in the same direction, although he is bound for the opposite
end of the road. So great are the angles necessary to be made in order to overcome the 
obstacles which nature had interposed. The declivity of the turnpike, however, is now 
so slight as to admit of travelling at almost any speed.

On reaching the summit, the view was inexpressibly grand. One of the loveliest sections 
of the Valley of Virginia spread its beauties before us. On one hand the "House Mountain"
rose in solitary grandeur above the surrounding hills, and on the other the dark spurs of 
the Alleghany projected out into the more cultivated country. On the southwest, as far as 
the eye could reach, mountain after mountain could be seen. Immediately below and before 
us, were laid out as a map, the fertile fields, comfortable farm-houses and county roads 
of Rockbridge; the numerous streams reflected in silvery sheets, as they wound through the
broken country and hurried along to pour their waters into the bosom of the James. Across
the "Valley" at the distance of perhaps twenty miles, the great "Blue Ridge" stretched away
towards the north and south, until it was lost in the deeper azure of the evening sky, or
hid by the dark and heavy clouds which bear the summer's storm.

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
he 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.

We reached Covington, a village on Jackson's river, to breakfast the next morning, and by 
ten o'clock had arrived at Callaghens, a comfortable country tavern, where we intersected
the line from Staunton. On the arrival of that stage, I changed conveyances, and with it 
the light and rapid travelling of the former coach, for the slow and heavy motion of one
loaded down with passengers and baggage. I found as my new companions, a very agreeable 
gentleman from Philadelphia, with his wife and son, an intelligent young South American,
a huge and awkward Mississippian, an incog. gentleman with a good countenance and a white
hat of the first magnitude, a youth of about seventeen, whose emaciated countenance, hectic 
flush and distressing cough, told that consumption had marked him as its victim, together
with one or two others not peculiarly interesting. We were now but fifteen miles from the
White Sulphur; and the impatience of our passengers seemed to increase almost in the 
duplicate ratio as the distance diminished. Every few moments the interrogatory, "How 
far are we now" was heard from some one of the company. At length the number of handsome
vehicles, persons on horseback and on foot, which were passing and repassing us, shewed 
that we were in the vicinity of the Springs. In a few moments the enclosure came in view,
and immediately after we drove up in front of the hotel at the White Sulphur.  Groups of
gentlemen were collected about the lawn and in the long piazza of the hotel.  All eyes 
were eagerly turned towards our coach, and many came crowding round, in hoped of espying
the face of an acquaintance among the new arrivals. The first physiognomy which greeted 
our vision was that of the manager of the establishment, who has no very enviable notoriety
among the visitors. According to his usual system, he had our baggage deposited for the 
remainder of the day at the foot of the tree where we landed, whilst we were left to wander
about the premises, without even a domicil in which to change our dusty travelling garb for
one more in unison with our personal  comfort, and the general appearance of those who were
to constitute our temporary associates.

There is something in the first view of the White Sulphur, very prepossessing and almost 
enchanting.  After rolling along among the mountains and dense forests, the wild and 
uncultivated scenery is at once exchanged for the neatness and elegance of refined society,
and the bustle and parade of the fashionable world.  Almost every state in the Union, and 
some of the nations of Europe may find their representatives at the White Sulphur, during 
the months of July and August. The last season was honored with an uncommon assemblage of 
interesting personages. We had Messrs. Clay and Poindexter of the United States Senate; 
McDuffie and others from the House of Representatives; Commodores Chauncey, Biddle and 
Rogers of the Navy; Judges Carr, Brooke and Cabell of the Court of Appeals; Col. Aspinwall, 
American Consul at London; the Hon. Mr. Sergeant of Philadelphia, and a host of dignitaries 
of somewhat lower degree, -- also from the religious community, Rev. Doctors Johns and Keith
of the Episcopal Church, and Rev. Messrs. Chester, Styles, (of Georgia) and others of the 
Presbyterian.  Mr. Clay was just recovering from an injury he had received from the 
upsetting of the stage, but he moved about with the lightness and activity of a boy of 15. 
Indeed we almost thought that he descended from his dignity by his frivolous and careless
air. He was affable and accessible to all. Mr. McDuffie, on the contrary, with his hard 
and forbidding countenance, was morose and distant, and the very reverse of the orator of 
Kentucky. Perhaps, however, due allowance should be made in favor of the former, on account 
of the infirm state of his health.

But the White Sulphur itself must not pass unnoticed. Its charms are worthy of being 
celebrated. The buildings, which are situated on a gradual acclivity, are arranged in the
form of a hollow square. Adjoining the Kanawha turnpike, which passes the springs and
parallel with it, are two large white hotels. One of these contains the dining and drawing 
rooms, and in the other there is a spacious saloon for music, dancing, &c.  This is also
used on the Sabbath as a chapel.  In a line with these, and running in each direction, is 
a row of cottages one story in height, for the use of visitors. With this at the eastern
extremity unites a continued range of beautiful white cottages, with venitians and long 
piazzas, forming another side of the quadrangle. At the distance of several hundred paces
from the hotels, and parallel with them on the hill side, is the third range, which is built 
entirely of brick and extends for several hundred yards, until its lower termination is 
concealed amongst the trees which form a thick grove on the brow of the hill. On the western
extremity of the area are the bathing houses, and above all, that which constitutes the great
attraction -- the spring. The reservoir in which the spring rises, is an octagon of about 
five feet in diameter, from which a constant and copious stream flows off, supplying the
bathing houses. A few steps lead up from the reservoir, to a platform some twenty-five feet
in diameter, furnished with seats and surrounded by a neat railing. The whole is protected
by a beautiful temple, composed of lofty white pillars surmounted by a dome. From the
interior of this dome is suspended a chandelier, by which the temple is lighted up in the
evenings. A lawn of the richest green, tastefully laid out with gravelled walks, and shaded
by an abundance of oaks and locusts, extends over the area of the quadrangle. At the distance
of a few feet from the cottages is a light railing, along which, as also along the walks, are
lamp-posts, from which the area is brilliantly illuminated in the evening.

We know of no scene more romantic and picturesque than that presented to a spectator from 
one of the cottages on the hill, after the lamps have been lighted for the night. The floods
of light, streaming among the trees, and from every window; the throngs of the gay and
fashionable, crowding the walks for the evening's promenade, and the thrilling melody of
the rich music from a fine German band, throws quite a fairy-like influence around this
pleasant retreat among the mountains.

On the Sabbath, the saloon usually occupied as a dancing room, was consecrated to more 
hallowed purposes. At the call of the bell, a large and very respectable congregation 
assembled, and listened to a solemn and eloquent discourse from the Rev. Doct. Johns of 
Baltimore. It seemed peculiarly appropriate, that while resorting to these waters for
healing the diseases of the body, we should also have recourse to the wells of salvation
which have been opened in the house of David for the diseases of the soul. The grace and
elegance with which the speaker on this occasion presented the truths connected with his
office, was calculated to render them interesting, as well as to convey a sense of their
importance even to the most indifferent.

It would be perhaps superfluous to speak of the healing efficacy of this celebrated spring;
its renovating effects are annually exhibited, and have been for years. It has been, however,
a matter of regret, that so little has been certainly known as to the peculiar properties 
of this as well as the other mineral springs of Virginia, and of their application to 
different diseases. It is a lamentable fact that invalids, by resorting to one of the 
springs which was not at all suited to their case, have only aggravated their diseases, 
and hurried themselves more rapidly to the grave. No impression is perhaps more common 
and none more erroneous, than that if the use of a particular spring is efficacious in 
one complaint, it will be equally beneficial in others, no matter how different their 
nature, and that at all events if no good is gained, no positive injury is received. The 
very opposite of this is the fact. Unless there is a clear understanding of the pathology
of the disease, and of the properties of the water, as well as the adaptation of its
constituents to remove the malady in view, we are for the most part groping in the dark,
and playing at best but a hazardous game. The want of a mineral water suited to the case
of invalids, need however deter no one from visiting the Virginia Springs.  Providence 
has supplied in this region a variety sufficient to answer the necessities of almost any
case. The only difficulty is, to ascertain which of these watering places is adapted to 
the particular disease.

Doctors Bell and Horner have given to the public the results of some investigations in 
reference to these waters, but the former had never visited the springs, and the latter
only for a few weeks of one season, without either proper apparatus to perfect a complete 
analysis, or sufficient opportunity for witnessing their practical effects. The consequence
is, that both of these gentlemen, though eminent in their professions, have given their
authority to statements which are in many respects erroneous, difficulties from this source 
however will soon be remedied. Professor Rogers of William and Mary College, a gentleman
eminently qualified for the purpose, visited the springs last summer with complete analyzing 
apparatus, and it is to be hoped that the cause of humanity will speedily realize the benefit
of his valuable investigations. Dr. Tindall, who has made the White Sulphur his place of
residence for several seasons, has devoted his attention to ascertaining the practical
effects of the waters, and intended issuing a volume on the subject before the commencement
of the next summer.

The efficacy of the White Sulphur is principally confined to affections of the liver, and 
derangements of the sanguiferous and biliary systems. Where there is any tendency to 
pulmonary disease, the use of this water should by all means be avoided. Its exciting
effects are exceedingly prejudicial to such constitutions. A continued use of the water 
will occasion a rapid progress of the disease. Individuals of a consumptive habit have 
been known to hasten their end by a residence at the White Sulphur. One case at least 
has become within my own observation.

We cannot leave the White Sulphur without a deep feeling of regret, that the proprietors 
of this otherwise attractive and delightful place, should make so little provision for
the comfort of visitors. The buildings, though extensive, are not at all sufficient to
accommodate the numbers which now resort thither. During the last summer almost every 
house for miles on the roads leading to the springs, was thronged with persons who had
been turned off at the hotel. Many of those who could obtain the privilege of remaining 
upon the ground, received exceedingly unpleasant accommodations. The table too, which
assumes a prodigious importance after a week's residence and use of the water, is by no
means such as should be afforded at such an establishment. Every visitor will recollect
his dining-room experience at the White Sulphur. But one of the most unpleasant features 
of the whole, is found in the person of the manager, who, although naturally possessed of
an amiable and accommodating disposition, we must say, in our opinion, is not qualified 
for the situation. It is much to be lamented, that this place which possesses decided 
advantages over any watering place in the United States and perhaps in the world -- whose
climate, scenery and healing properties are no where surpassed, and to which, notwithstanding
the accommodations, crowds resort, should not be fitted up in a style suited to its merits.