LETTER XVIII.
Description of the Passage of Patowmac and Shenandoah Rivers through a Break in the Blue Mountains.—Some Observations on Mr. Jefferson’s Account of the Scene.—Summary Account of Maryland.—Arrival at Philadelphia.—Remarks on the Climate of the United States.—State of the City of Philadelphia during the Heat of Summer.—Difficulty of preserving Butter, Milk, Meat, Fish, &c.—General Use of Ice.—Of the Winds.—State of Weather in America depends greatly upon them.
Philadelphia, June.
HAVING traversed, in various directions, the country to the west of the Blue Mountains in Virginia, I came to the Patowmac, at the place where that river passes through the Blue Ridge, which Mr. Jefferson, in his Notes upon Virginia, has represented as one of the soft “stupendous scenes in nature, and worth a voyage across the Atlantic.” The approach towards the place is wild and romantic. After crossing a number of small hills, which rise one above the other in succession, you at last perceive the break in the Blue Ridge; at the same time the road suddenly turning, winds down a long and deep hill, shaded with lofty trees, whose branches unite over your head. On one side of the road there are large heaps of rocks above you, which seem to threaten destruction to any one that passes under them; on the other, a deep precipice presents itself, at the bottom of which is heard the roaring of the waters, that are concealed from the eye by the thickness of the foliage. Towards the end of this hill, about sixty feet above the level of the water, stands a tavern and a few houses, and from some fields in the rear of them the passage of the river through the mountain is, I think, seen to the best advantage.
PASSAGE OF RIVERS.
The Patowmac on the left comes winding along through a fertile country towards the mountain; on the right flows the Shenandoah: uniting together at the foot of the mountain, they roll on through the gap; then suddenly expanding to the breadth of about four hundred yards, they pass on towards the sea, and are finally lost to the view amidst surrounding hills. The rugged appearance of the sides of the mountain towards the river, and the large rocks that lie scattered about at the bottom, many of which have evidently been split asunder by some great convulsion, “are monuments,” as Mr. Jefferson observes, of the “war that has taken place at this spot between rivers and mountains; and at first sight they lead us into an opinion that mountains were created before rivers began to flow; that the waters of the Patowmac and Shenandoah were dammed up for a time by the Blue Ridge, but continuing to rise, that they at length broke through at this spot, and tore the mountain asunder from its summit to its base.” Certain it is, that if the Blue Ridge could be again made entire, an immense body of water would be formed on the western side of it, by the Shenandoah and Patowmac rivers, and this body of water would be deepest, and consequently would act with more force in sapping a passage for itself through the mountain, at the identical spot where the gap now is than at any other, for this is the lowest spot in a very extended tract of country. A glance at the map will be sufficient to satisfy any person on this point; it will at once be seen, that all the rivers of the adjacent country bend their courses hitherwards. Whether the ridge, however, was left originally entire, or whether a break was left in it for the passage of the rivers, it is impossible at this day to ascertain; but it is very evident that the sides of the gap have been reduced to their present rugged state by some great inundation. Indeed, supposing that the Patowmac and Shenandoah ever rose during a flood, a common circumstance in spring and autumn, only equally high with what James River did in 1795, that is fifteen feet above their usual level, such a circumstance might have occasioned a very material alteration in the appearance of the gap.
ROCKS LOOSENED.
The Blue Ridge, on each side of the Patowmac, is formed, from the foundation to the summit, of large rocks deposited in beds of rich soft earth. This earth is very readily washed away, and in that case the rocks consequently become loose; indeed, they are frequently loosened even by heavy showers of rain. A proof of this came within my own observation, which I shall never forget. It had been raining excessively hard the whole morning of that day on which I arrived at this place; the evening however was very fine, and being anxious to behold the scene in every point of view, I crossed the river, and attended the mountain at a steep part on the opposite side, where there was no path, and many large projecting rocks. I had walked up about fifty yards, when a large stone that I set my foot upon, and which appeared to me perfectly firm, all at once gave way; it had been loosened by the rain, and brought down such a heap of others with it in its fall, with such a tremendous noise at the same time, that I thought the whole mountain was coming upon me, and expected every moment to be dashed to pieces. I slid down about twenty feet, and then luckily caught hold of the branch of a tree, by which I clung; but the stones still continued to roll down heap after heap; several times, likewise, after all had been still for a minute or two, they again began to fall with increased violence. In this state of suspense I was kept for a considerable time, not knowing but that some stone larger than the rest might give way, and carry down with it even the tree by which I held. Unacquainted also with the paths of the mountain, there seemed to me to be no other way of getting down, excepting over the fallen stones, a way which I contemplated with horror. Night however was coming on very fast; it was absolutely necessary to quit the situation I was in, and fortunately I got to the bottom without receiving any further injury than two or three slight contusions on my hips and elbows. The people congratulated me when I came back on my escape, and informed me, that the stones very commonly gave way in this manner after heavy falls of rain; but on the dissolution of a large body of snow, immense rocks, they said, would sometimes roll down with a crash that might be heard for miles. The consequences then of a large rock towards the bottom of the mountain being undermined by a flood, and giving way, may be very readily imagined: the rock above it, robbed of its support, would also fall; this would bring down with it numbers of others with which it was connected, and thus a disruption would be produced from the base to the very summit of the mountain.
IRON.
The passage of the rivers through the ridge at this place is certainly a curious scene, and deserving of attention; but I am far from thinking with Mr. Jefferson, that it is “one of the most stupendous scenes in nature, and worth a voyage across the Atlantic;” nor has it been my lot to meet with any person that had been a spectator of the scene, after reading his description of it, but what also differed with him very materially in opinion. To find numberless scenes more stupendous, it would be needless to go farther than Wales. A river, it is true, is not to be met with in that country, equal in size to the Patowmac; but many are to be seen there rushing over their stony beds with much more turbulence and impetuosity than either the Patowmac or Shenandoah: the rocks, the precipices, and the mountains of the Blue Ridge at this place are diminutive and uninteresting also, compared with those which abound in that country. Indeed, from every part of Mr. Jefferson’s description, it appears as if he had beheld the scene, not in its present state, but at the very moment when the disruption happened, and when every thing was in a state of tumult and confusion.