The Ball-Room—Willie's Spring—Wandering Willie Ox-Stalls Giant's Coffin— Acute-Angle or Great Bend— Range of Cabins— Curative Properties of the Cave Air long known.
We are now again in the Main Cave or Grand Gallery, which continues to increase in interest as we advance, eliciting from our party frequent and loud exclamations of admiration and wonder. Not many steps from the stairs leading down from the Gothic Avenue into the Main Cave, is the Ball-Room, so called from its singular adaptedness to such a purpose; for there is an orchestra, fifteen or eighteen feet high, large enough to accommodate a hundred or more musicians, with a gallery extending back to the level of the high embankment near the Gothic Avenue; besides which, the avenue here is lofty, wide, straight and perfectly level for several hundred feet. At the trifling expense of a plank floor, seats and lamps, a ball-room might be had, if not more splendid, at all events more grand and magnificent than any other on earth. The effect of music here would be truly inspiring; but the awful solemnity of the place may, in the opinion of many, prevent its being used as a temple of Terpsichore. Extremes, we are told, often meet. The same objection has been urged against the Cave's being used for religious services. "No clergyman," remarked a distinguished divine, "be he ever so eloquent could concentrate the attention of his congregation in such a place. The God of nature speaks too loud here for man to be heard."
Leaving these points to be settled as they may, we will proceed onwards; the road now is broad and fine, and in many places dusty. Next in order is Willie's Spring, a beautifully fluted niche in the left hand wall, caused by the continual attrition of water trickling down into a basin below. This spring derives its name from that of a young gentleman, the son of a highly respectable clergyman of Cincinnati, who, in the spirit of romance, assumed the name of Wandering Willie, and taking with him his violin, marched on foot to the Cave. Wishing no better place in which to pass the night, he selected this spot, requesting the guide to call for him in the morning. This he did and found him fast asleep upon his bed of earth, with his violin beside him—ever since it has been called Willie's Spring. Just beyond the spring and near the left wall, is the place where the oxen were fed during the time of the miners; and strewn around are a great many corn-cobs, to all appearance, and in fact, perfectly sound, although they have lain there for more than thirty years. In this neighborhood is a niche of great size in the wall on the left, and reaching from the roof to the bottom of a pit more than thirty feet deep, down the sides of which, water of the purest kind is continually dripping, and is afterwards conducted to a large trough, from which the invalids obtain their supply of water, during their sojourn in the Cave. Near the bottom, this pit or well expands into a large room, out of which, there is no opening. It is probable that Richardson's Spring in the Deserted Chambers is supplied from this well. Passing the Well Cave, Rocky Cave, etc., etc., we arrived at the Giant's Coffin, a huge rock on the right, thus named from its singular resemblance in shape to a coffin; its locality, apart from its great size, renders it particularly conspicuous, as all must pass around it, in leaving the Main Cave, to visit the rivers and the thousand wonders beyond. At this point commence those incrustations, which, portraying every imaginable figure on the ceiling, afford full scope to the fanciful to picture what they will, whether of "birds, or beasts, or creeping things." About a hundred yards beyond the Coffin, the Cave makes a majestic curve, and sweeping round the Great Bend or Acute-Angle, resumes its general course. Here the guide ignited a Bengal light. This vast amphitheatre became illuminated, and a scene of enchantment was exposed to our view. Poets may conceive, but no language can describe, the splendor and sublimity of the scene. The rapturous exclamations of our party might have been heard from afar, both up and down this place of wonders. Opposite to the Great Bend, is the entrance of the Sick Room Cave, so called from the fact of the sudden sickness of a visiter a few years ago, supposed to have been caused by his smoking, with others, cigars in one of its most remote and confined nooks. Immediately beyond the Great Bend, a row of cabins, built for consumptive patients, commences. All of these are framed buildings, with the exception of two, which are of stone. They stand in line, from thirty to one hundred feet apart, exhibiting a picturesque, yet at the same time, a gloomy and mournful appearance. [ They are well furnished, and without question, would with good and comfortable accommodations, pure air and uniform temperature, cure the pulmonary consumption. The invalids in the Cave ought to be cured]; but I doubt whether the Cave air or any thing else can cure confirmed Phthisis. A knowledge of the curative properties of the Cave air, is not, as is generally supposed, of recent date. It has been long known. A physician of great respectability, formerly a member of Congress from the district adjoining the Cave, was so firmly convinced of the medical properties of its air, as to express more than twenty years ago, as his opinion, that the State of Kentucky ought to purchase it, with a view to establish a hospital in one of its avenues. Again the author of "Calavar," himself a distinguished professor of medicine, makes the following remarks in relation to the Cave air, as far back as 1832, the date of his visit:
"It is always temperate. Its purity, judging from its effects on the lungs, and from other circumstances, is remarkable, though in what its purity consists, I know not. But, be its composition what it may, it is certain its effects upon the spirits and bodily powers of visiters, are extremely exhilarating; and that it is not less salubrious than enlivening. The nitre diggers were a famously healthy set of men; it was a common and humane practice to employ laborers of enfeebled constitutions, who were soon restored to health and strength, though kept at constant labour; and more joyous, merry fellows were never seen. The oxen, of which several were kept day and night in the Cave, hauling the nitrous earth, were after a month or two of toil, in as fine condition for the shambles, as if fattened in the stall. The ordinary visiter, though rambling a dozen hours or more, over paths of the roughest and most difficult kind, is seldom conscious of fatigue, until he returns to the upper air; and then it seems to him, at least in the summer season, that he has exchanged the atmosphere of paradise for that of a charnel warmed by steam—all without is so heavy, so dank, so dead, so mephitic. Awe and even apprehension, if that has been felt, soon yield to the influence of the delicious air of the Cave; and after a time a certain jocund feeling is found mingled with the deepest impressions of sublimity, which there are so many objects to awaken. I recommend all broken hearted lovers and dyspeptic dandies to carry their complaints to the Mammoth Cave, where they will undoubtedly find themselves "translated" into very buxom and happy persons before they are aware of it."
Star Chamber— Salts Room— Indian Houses— Cross Rooms Black Chambers— A Dinner Party— Humble Chute— Solitary Care— Fairy Grotto— Chief City or Temple— Lee's Description— Return to the Hotel.
The Star Chamber next attracted our attention. It presents the most perfect optical illusion imaginable; in looking up to the ceiling, which is here very high, you seem to see the very firmament itself, studded with stars; and afar off, a comet with its long, bright tail. Not far from this Star Chamber, may be seen, in a cavity in the wall on the right, and about twenty feet above the floor, an oak pole about ten feet long and six inches in diameter, with two round sticks of half the thickness and three feet long, tied on to it transversely, at about four feet apart. By means of a ladder we ascended to the cavity, and found the pole to be firmly fixed—one end resting on the bottom of the cavity, and the other reaching across and forced into a crevice about three feet above. We supposed that this was a ladder once used by the former inhabitants of the Cave, in getting the salts which are incrusted on the walls in many places. Doct. Locke, of the Medical College of Ohio, is, however, of the opinion, that on it was placed a dead body,—similar contrivances being used by some Indian tribes on which to place their dead. Although thousands have passed the spot, still this was never seen until the fall of 1841. Ages have doubtless rolled by since this was placed here, and yet it is perfectly sound; even the bark which confines the transverse pieces shows no marks of decay.
We passed through some Side Cuts, as they are called. These are caves opening on the sides of the avenues; and after running for some distance, entering them again. Some of them exceed half a mile in length; but most generally they are short. In many of them, "quartz, calcedony, red ochre, gypsum, and salts are found." The walking, in this part of the avenue, being rough, we progressed but slowly, until we reached the Salts Room; here we found the walls and ceiling covered with salts hanging in crystals. The least agitation of the air causing flakes of the crystals to fall like snow. In the Salts Room are the Indian houses, under the rocks—small spaces or rooms completely covered—some of which contain ashes and cane partly burnt. The Cross Rooms, which we next come to, is a grand section of this avenue; the ceiling has an unbroken span of one hundred and seventy feet, without a column to support it! The mouths of two caves are seen from this point, neither of which we visited, and much to our loss, as will appear from the following extract from the "Notes on the Mammoth Cave, by E.F. Lee, Esq., Civil Engineer," in relation to one of them—the Black Chambers:
"At the ruins in the Black Chambers, there are a great many large blocks composed of different strata of rocks, cemented together, resembling the walls, pedestals, cornices, etc., of some old castle, scattered over the bottom of the Cave. The avenue here is so wide, as to make it quite a task to walk from one side to the other. On the right hand, beyond the ruins, you enter the right branch, on the same level—the ceiling of which is regularly arched. Through the Big Chimneys you ascend into an upper room, about the size of the Main Cave, the bottom of which is higher than the ceiling of the one below. Proceeding on we soon heard the low murmurings of a water-fall,—the sound of which becomes louder and louder as we advanced, until we reached the Cataract. In the roof are perforations as large as a hogshead, on the right hand side, from which water is ever falling, on ordinary occasions in not very large quantities; but after heavy rains—in torrents; and with a horrible roar that shakes the walls and resounds afar through the Cave. It is at such times that these cascades are worthy the name of cataracts, which they bear. The water falling into a great funnel-shaped pit, immediately vanishes."
Here we concluded to dine, and at quite a fashionable hour—4, P.M. The guide arranged the plates, knives and forks, wine-glasses, etc., on a huge table of rock, and announced,—"Dinner is ready!" We filled our plates with the excellent viands prepared at the Cave House, and seating ourselves on the rocks or nitre earth, partook of our repast with the gusto of gourmands, and quaffing, ever and anon, wines which would have done credit to the Astor or Tremont House. "There may be," remarked our corpulent friend B., "a great deal of romance in this way of eating—with your plate on your lap, and seated on a rock or a lump of nitre earth—but for my part I would rather dispense with the poetry of the thing and eat a good dinner, whether above or below ground, from off a bona-fide table, and seated in a good substantial chair. The proprietor ought to have at all the watering places, (and they are numerous,) tables, chairs, and the necessary table furniture, that visitors might partake of their collations in some degree of comfort." The guide who, by the way, is a very intelligent and facetious fellow, was much amused at the suggestion of our friend, and remarked that "the owner of the Cave, Doct. Croghan, lived near Louisville, and that the only way to get such 'fixings' at the watering places, was to write to him on the subject." "Then," said B., "for the sake of those who may follow after us, I will take it upon myself to write."