On a fine morning in September 1834, a party of which the writer was one, consisting for the most part of gentlemen who had met together in the town of Staunton from various sections of the Union, resolved on a visit to certain remarkable NATURAL STRUCTURES which lay in the neighborhood of the Augusta Springs, and about twenty miles distant from the place of their departure.
After passing over a hilly and picturesque country, the road opened upon a fertile valley, which though in places narrow, was of considerable length,—and when seen from an elevated position, appeared like the bed of an ancient lake, or as it really is, the alluvial border of a flowing stream. The strata of limestone hills, followed their usual order of parallel lines to the great mountains of our continent, as though a strong current had once swept through this magnificent valley,—forming in its course islands and promontories,—which are now discoverable in numerous short hills and rocky bluffs, that are either naked and barren, or covered with a growth of stately trees. It was at such a projection, that we first descried the gray summits of what seemed a ruinous castle,—resembling those which were raised in feudal times to guard the passes of the Rhine, or like such as are still seen in mouldering majesty on many an Alpine rock. These summits or towers, of which there are seven, lifted their heads above the lofty elms, like so many antique chimnies in the midst of a grove; but, on approaching them nearer, our pleasure was greatly increased, to find them rise almost perpendicularly from the bed of a small stream, which winding around their base, serves as a natural moat to a building not made with mortal hands. The southern front of this colossal pile, presents a wall of about sixty feet elevation, terminating in three towers of irregular height, and perforated at its base by a cavern,—which, by an apt association, was denominated "Vulcan's Forge." The tower on the extreme right, was unanimously called "Cocke's Tower"—in honor of one of our party who ascended it. On the left, are two other isolated towers,—of which the centre or smaller one was distinguished as the "Hymenial Altar,"—a name which had its origin partly in a jeu d'esprit, and partly on account of a shady bower in its rear, which seemed an appropriate shade to mantle maiden's blushes. The furthest and tallest, received the title of the "Tower of Babel." This is also the most perpendicular of all these rocky structures; an archway passes through it, by which there is an easy ascent to the remaining two, which stand on the acclivity of the hill,—and though of less altitude, are not of inferior beauty to the rest. One of them, which is of a round form, and flat at the top, and on that account received the appellation of the "Table Rock"—affords from its summit a splendid view of the whole; the other, and last of the five, we distinguished as "Shelton's Rock"—from one of our party.
These rocks in their formation resemble the palisades on the Hudson river—but are more regular in their strata,—which appear to have been arranged in huge masses of perfect workmanship—with projections like cornices of Gothic architecture, in a state of dilapidation. Those who are acquainted with the structure of the Cyclopean walls of the ancients, would be struck with the resemblance,—which suggested the name at the head of this article.
We pause to inquire why these primeval fragments of the world have remained so long unnoticed? Why is it that men are so easily awakened to the liveliest interest in distant objects, and yet neglect those which are nearer and more accessible? "A prophet" it hath been said on high authority, "hath honor save in his own country,"—and to that strange propensity of the mind to contemn whatever is familiar, must be attributed the neglect of many of the richest treasures at our own door, which frequently impart both wealth and distinction to foreign enterprise. For many years these towers have been known in the surrounding country, by the homely appellation of "THE CHIMNEYS,"—but no one has ever stopped to examine them, or to inquire how nature formed so curious a pile in such a spot. Imagination may indeed conceive that this noble structure was once the Scylla of a narrow strait connecting the waters of the north and the south, until their accumulated pressing burst through the blue ridge at Harper's Ferry, and left in their subsidence these towers, as a perpetual memorial of their former dominion.
G. C.
[We do not remember where or when the following Sonnet to Lord Byron was published. All we know is that it has been in print before, and has been ascribed to the pen of the Hon. R. H. Wilde, of Georgia.]
ORIGINAL SONNET TO LORD BYRON.
| Byron! 'twas thine alone on eagle's pinions, In solitary strength and grandeur soaring, To dazzle and delight all eyes, out-pouring The electric blaze on tyrants and their minions; Earth, sea and air, and Powers and Dominions, Nature—man—time—the universe exploring, And from the wreck of worlds, thrones, creeds, opinions, Thought, beauty, eloquence, and wisdom storing. O! how I love and envy thee thy glory! To every age and clime alike belonging; Linked by all tongues with every nation's story, Thou TACITUS of song!—whose echoes thronging O'er the Atlantic, fill the mountains hoary And forests with a name which thus I'm wronging. |