"Baltimore and Ohio Railway, Machinery Department.
"Baltimore, Oct. 21st, 1858."This is to certify that Mr. A. T. has occupied the position of 'Locomotive Engineer,' on the Mountain Division (3rd) of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.
"The term of his occupation has been characterised by a close attention to his duties, and consequent freedom from accidents.
(Signed)
"Henry Tyson,
"Master of Machinery,
"Baltimore and Ohio R. R. Co."
Papa, in fact, drove the engine a considerable way up the steepest part of the ascent, and as the driver must command an uninterrupted view of the road before him, he had a capital opportunity of seeing the country. Thrower and I sat on a seat behind him; but he alone had the full view, as the chimney of the engine rather obstructed ours in front, though on each side we saw perfectly. The whistle of the engine, when so close to our ears, was splendid, or perhaps you would have said, terrific.
From Altamont to Cranberry Summit, where the descent begins, there is a comparatively level country, called the Glades, which are beautiful natural meadows undulating and well cultivated, with high ranges of mountains, generally at no great distance from the road, but varying a good deal in this respect, so as sometimes to leave a considerable plain between it and the range. From these glades numerous valleys diverge, and, in looking down these, splendid vistas are obtained. The verdure even now is very bright, and the streams, which are everywhere to be seen, are remarkably clear and pure; so that although the interest of the road was less absorbing than when we were ascending the mountains, it was still very great. From Cranberry Summit the distant views to the westward were quite magnificent.
We now entered on what is called the "Cheat River Region," and the descent to Grafton (a distance of thirty miles) is even more beautiful than the ascent to Altamont. To give you some slight idea of the nature of the road and of the scenery, I enclose a photograph of one of the bridges over the Cheat River. This is called the Tray Run Viaduct, and it is 640 feet long; the masonry is seventy-eight feet high, and the iron-work above that is eighty feet. The road here is about seven hundred feet above the river, which runs in the valley below. This river, the Cheat, is a dark, rapid, mountain stream, the waters of which are almost of a coffee-colour, owing, it is said, to its rising in forests of laurel and black spruce, with which the high lands here abound.
We passed hereabouts many curious-looking log houses, a photograph of one of which we enclose.[7] You will observe the man with a cradle by his side, and his whip, gun, bottle, jar, &c., also the chimney, which is a remarkable structure, consisting of a barrel above a heap of stones, showing the resources of the West.
Before reaching Grafton, we passed the Great Kingwood tunnel, which is much thought of in America, being 4100 feet in length, though it is greatly beat by many of our tunnels in England; but tunnels are rare in America, as the roads generally run through the valleys.
We reached Grafton at four o'clock, and had a lovely afternoon to explore the beauties of the neighbourhood. We went into a number of cottages and log-huts, and were delighted with the people; but the details of our Grafton visit must be given to you vivâ voce on our return. The night was brilliant, and it was one o'clock in the morning before we took our last look of the moonlit valley, and of the rivers which here joined their streams almost under the windows of our rooms.
We may mention that in this day's journey, we passed the source of the Monongahela, the chief branch of what afterwards becomes the Ohio. It is here a tiny little clear stream, winding through the glades we have spoken of.
On Thursday morning, though it was past one before we went to bed, I was up at six, as soon as it was light, to make a sketch from our bed-room window, which will give you hereafter some notion of the scene, though neither description nor drawing can convey any real idea of it. After breakfast, papa and I and Thrower went up a tolerably steep hill to the cottage of three old ladies, whose characters I had an opportunity of studying while papa went on with the guide to the Great National or State Turnpike Road, or "Pike Road" as they called it, which used to be the connecting link between Washington and Southern Virginia. Though much disused it is still well kept up. After going along it for some distance, papa struck up to the top of a high hill, from whence he had a magnificent view of the valleys on both sides of the ridge he was on, and he was surprised to find what large tracts of cultivated ground were visible, while to those below there seemed nothing but forest-covered mountains, but between these he could see extensive glades, where every patch was turned to account. This we afterwards saw from other parts of the road.
While papa was taking his hasty walk, Thrower and I sat down in the log-hut where these three old spinster sisters had lived all their lives. They were quite characters, and cultivated their land entirely with their own hands; though, when we asked their ages, two of them said they were "in fifty," and one "in sixty;" they were most intelligent and agreeable, and two looked very healthy; but the third had just had a severe illness, and looked very ill. One was scraping the Indian corn grains off the cob, using another cob to assist her in the work; we watched the beautifully-productive plant, and admired its growth. Their cottage or hut looked quite comfortable, and there were substantial log stables and farm-buildings adjoining. When the weather permitted, they got down the hill to Grafton to the Methodist meeting. There is no Episcopal church there yet, excepting a Roman Catholic one, to which they will not go, though they speak with thankfulness of the kindness they have received from the priest.