Chapter XXI: Letter XXI: Harper’s Ferry, June, 1848 (1)

Since the date of my last letter, I have been travelling through a very beautiful but thickly-settled portion of the Alleghany country, whose natural curiosities are as familiar to the world as a thrice-told tale. For this reason, therefore, I shall be exceedingly brief in describing what I have seen in the Valley of Virginia. That portion of the “Ancient Dominion” known by the above name is about two hundred miles long, ranging in width from thirty to forty miles. It is bounded on the north by the Potomac, on the east by the Blue Ridge, on the west by a spur of the Alleghanies called the North Mountains, and on the south by the New River, or Kanawha, as it should be called. Its principal streams are the Shenandoah, the James River, and the Cacapon, which are in every way worthy of their parent country. In ascending to the north, I was tempted to perform a pilgrimage down the Kanawha, but my map told me that I could not see the whole of its valley without travelling at least two hundred miles, and I therefore concluded that its charming scenery, its famous salt-works, and the still more celebrated White Sulphur Springs, should remain undescribed by my pen. In fact, to visit all the interesting objects among the Alleghany Mountains would occupy a number of summers, and therefore, in making a single tour, I have found it important to discriminate as I passed along. But it is time that I should turn my attention to the prominent attractions of the great Virginia Valley. They are as follows, and I shall speak of them in the order in which I visited them, viz.: the Peaks of Otter, the Natural Bridge, Wyer’s Cave, Cyclopean Towers, the Shenandoah, and Harper’s Ferry.

The Peaks of Otter are situated upon the line which separates the counties of Bedford and Bottetourt, and are the two highest mountains on the Blue Ridge range, and therefore the highest in Virginia. They derive their name from the fact that, at a very early period in the history of our country, the otter was found in great abundance in the smaller streams at their base. In appearance they resemble a pair of regularly formed haystacks, and reach an elevation of about five thousand feet above the level of the ocean. Owing to the circumstance that the country on one side is nearly level, and that the surrounding mountains are comparatively low, their appearance is exceedingly imposing. The summits of these watchtowers are destitute of vegetation, but crowned with immense rocks, which have been scattered about in the most incomprehensible confusion. And hereby hangs a story. About one year ago, a number of persons ascended the highest peak in question, and having discovered an immense rock, which appeared to be in a tottleish position, they took into their heads to give it a start down the mountain side, and see what would be the result. They accomplished their purpose and something more, for it so happened that the rock travelled much further than they expected, and having fallen into a very large spring at the foot of the mountain, caused it to disappear from the face of the earth. The owner of the spring felt himself injured by this circumstance, and went to law about it, and the offending parties, as I have been informed, were compelled to pay a heavy bill of damages. That the sunrise and sunset prospects from the Peaks of Otter are superb may readily be imagined. Those which present themselves on the north, west, and south, seem to comprise the entire Appalachian chain of mountains, but the oceanward panorama is unique and particularly impressive. In this direction the whole eastern portion of Virginia resembles a boundless plain, where even the most extensive plantations appear no larger than the squares upon a chessboard; and now that I have employed that figure, it strikes me as particularly appropriate; for where is there a man on the face of the earth who is not playing a game for the attainment of happiness? From their position, the Peaks of Otter look down upon all the fogs and vapors born of the sea breezes, and, by those who have frequently beheld their fantastic evolutions, I am told that they surpass even the wildest flights of poetry. Few mountains in this country have been visited by so many distinguished men as the Peaks of Otter; and it is said that it was while standing on their loftiest pinnacle that John Randolph first had a realizing sense of the existence and the power of God. To some minds a mountain peak may be a thousand-fold more eloquent than the voice of man; and when I think of the highly moral condition of the people in Central Virginia, I am constrained to award a mite of praise even to the Peaks of Otter for their happy influences.

It was a thousand years ago, and a mighty caravan of mammoths were travelling across the American continent. Midway between two ranges of mountains they came to a great ravine, over which they could not find a passage, and they were in despair. The Great Spirit took pity upon the animals, and having brought a deep sleep upon them, threw a mass of solid rock completely across the ravine, and so, according to an almost forgotten Indian legend, came into existence the Natural Bridge of Virginia. The chasm over which this magnificent limestone arch has been formed varies from sixty to ninety feet in width, the surrounding precipices are nearly two hundred and fifty feet high and perpendicular, and the lower line of the narrow arch itself is two hundred feet above the stream which passes through the gorge. The bridge and its cliff-like abutments are all crowned with a luxuriant diadem of trees, which lends them an indescribable charm, and directly on the north side of the former stands an exceedingly picturesque gallery or parapet of solid rock, which seems to have been formed by Nature for the especial purpose of affording the most imposing prospect into the dell. From every elevated point of view the eye falls into an abyss, which one might easily fancy to be the birthplace of all the shadows in the world, the gray and green gloom is so deep, so purely beautiful, and so refreshing, even at the hour of noon; but from every point of view at the bottom of the dell, the stupendous arch, as some writer has finely said, “seems to offer a passage to the skies,” and the massive masonry of Nature stands boldly out against the blue heavens, thereby producing a most unique and poetical contrast. But the location of this bridge is not less beautiful than its structure. It is completely surrounded with hills, which seem to cluster around the rare spectacle, as if to protect it from sacrilege; and from the hills in question the eye is every where delighted with mountain landscapes of uncommon loveliness.

Wyer’s Cave is in Augusta county, and the entrance to it is from the side of a limestone hill, which commands a very charming prospect of the highly cultivated Valley of the Shenandoah. It was originally discovered by one Bernard Wyer in the year 1804, whose fortune it was to capture a bear within a few paces of its entrance. Its entire length is not far from one thousand yards, so that its size is not to be wondered at; but when you come to speak of its beauty, the variety, number, and imposing appearance of its apartments, the novelty of its concretions, its fantastic projections, its comparative freedom from dampness, and the whiteness of its walls, I suppose it must be considered as unsurpassed by any thing of the kind in the country, excepting the Cave of Kentucky. But the pleasure of roaming about this darksome emblem of perdition is greatly enhanced by the huge pine torches which you and your guide have to carry over your heads, and then if you can possibly bribe your friend _not_ to utter a single one of the abominably classical names with which all the nooks and corners of the cave have been christened, your gratification will indeed be real, and your impressions strange, unearthly, and long-to-be-remembered in your dreams. To enjoy a visit to this cave, as it ought to be enjoyed, a man ought to have an entire summer day at his disposal; ought to be alone, should have a torch that should need no trimming, and under his arm a well-printed copy of Dante. Thus prepared, his enjoyment would be truly exquisite.

The Cyclopean Towers are also in Augusta county, and were so called on account of their resemblance to the Cyclopean walls of the ancients. They are formed of limestone, and as they stand at the outlet of a valley, through which it is probable a mighty river once flowed, they were evidently formed by the water while forcing its way around the point of the neighboring hill. There are five or six of them, and they vary from forty to ninety feet from base to summit, and are covered with trees. When viewed at the twilight hour they appear like the mouldering ruins of a once magnificent castle, and the wildness of the surrounding scenery is not at all calculated to dissipate this illusion.

With regard to the Valley of the Shenandoah, I can only say that a more beautiful section of country I have never seen. The soil is exceedingly rich and highly cultivated; its yeomanry are descended from the German population of the older times; and throughout all its borders, I am certain that peace and plenty abound. As to the river itself, I can only say that it is worthy of its vague but poetical and melodious Indian name, the interpretation of which is said to be _Daughter of the Stars_.

And now a single word in regard to Harper’s Ferry. When I close my eyes and bring the scenery of this portion of the Potomac before my mind, I am disposed to agree, in every particular, with all those writers who have sung the praises of this remarkable gorge; but when I look upon it as it now appears, despoiled by the hand of civilization of almost every thing which gives a charm to the wilderness, I am troubled with an emotion allied to regret, and I again instinctively close my eyes, that I may look into the past, and once more hear the whoop of the Indian hunter following the fleet deer.

ADDENDA.

[The following highly interesting and valuable communications, are reprinted in this place by permission of the several writers, and for the purpose of concluding my little volume with an appropriate climax. The first was addressed to the Editors of the _National Intelligencer_, and published in that journal subsequently to the appearance of my “Letters from the Alleghany Mountains.” The second was addressed to J. S. Skinner, Esq., but also published in the Intelligencer; and the third, introducing a letter from Professor C. U. Shepard, was originally addressed to the Editor of the _Highland Messenger_, (Ashville, N. C.) in which paper it made its first appearance: and the fourth communication, by Professor E. Mitchell, addressed to the Hon. Mr. Clingman, was published in the New-York Albion.]

C. L.

_To the Editors of the National Intelligencer._

Ashville, North Carolina, October, 1848.

Gentlemen: As you have recently been publishing a series of letters in relation to that portion of the Alleghany range which is situated in North Carolina, you may, perhaps, find matter of interest in the subject of this communication. My purpose in making it is not only to present to the consideration of those learned or curious in geology facts singular and interesting in themselves, but also, by means of your widely disseminated paper, to stimulate an inquiry as to whether similar phenomena have been observed in any other parts of the Alleghany range.

A number of persons had stated to me that at different periods, within the recollection of persons now living, a portion of a certain mountain in Haywood county had been violently agitated and broken to pieces. The first of these shocks remembered by any person whom I have seen, occurred just prior to the last war with England, in the year 1811 or 1812. Since then some half a dozen or more have been noticed. The latest occurred something more than three years ago, on a clear summer morning. These shocks have usually occurred, or at least been more frequently observed, in calm weather. They have generally been heard distinctly by persons in the town of Waynesville, some twenty miles off. The sound is described as resembling the rumbling of distant thunder, but no shaking of the earth is felt at that distance. In the immediate vicinity of the mountain, and for four or five miles around, this sound is accompanied by a slight trembling of the earth, which continues as long as the sound lasts—that is, for one or two minutes. After each of these shocks the mountain was found to be freshly rent and broken in various places.

Having an opportunity afforded me a few days since, I paid a visit to the locality, and devoted a few hours to a hurried examination. It is situated in the northeastern section of Haywood county, near the head of Fine’s creek. The bed of the little creek at the mountain is probably elevated some twenty-six or seven hundred feet above the level of the ocean. The valley of the French Broad, at the Warm Springs, some fifteen miles distant, is twelve hundred feet lower. They are separated, however, by a mountain ridge of more than four thousand feet elevation above the sea, and there are high mountains in all directions around the locality in question. The immediate object of interest is the western termination of a mountain ridge nearly half a mile to the east of the house of Mr. Matthew Rogers. The top of this ridge, at the place where it has been recently convulsed, is some three or four hundred feet above the creek, at its western extremity, but it rises rapidly for some distance as it goes off to the eastward towards the higher mountain range. The northern side of this ridge I had not time to examine, but the marks of violence are observable at the top of the ridge, and extend in a direction nearly due south, down the side of the mountain four or five hundred yards, to a little branch; thence across it, over a flat or gentle slope, and up the side of the next ridge as far as I went, being for three or four hundred yards. The tract of ground examined by me was perhaps half a mile in length from north to south. The breadth of the surface subjected to violence was nowhere more than two hundred yards, and generally rather less than one hundred. Along this space the ground has been rent in various places. The fissures or cracks most frequently run in a northern and southern direction, and towards the tops of the mountains, but they are often at right angles to these, and in fact some may be found in all directions. While some of them are so narrow as to be barely visible, others are three or four feet in width. The annual falling of the leaves and the washing of the rains has filled them so that at no place are they more than five or six feet in depth. Along this tract all the large trees have been thrown down, and are lying in various directions, some of them six feet in diameter. One large poplar, which stood directly over one of the fissures, was cleft open, and one half of the trunk, to the height of more than twenty feet, is still standing. Though the fissure, which passed directly under its centre, is not more than an inch in width, it may be observed for nearly a hundred yards. All the roots of trees which crossed the lines of fracture are broken. The rocks are also cloven by these lines. The top of the ridge, which seems originally to have been an entire mass of granite, is broken in places. Not only have those masses of rock, which are chiefly under ground, been cleft open, but fragments lying on the surface have been shattered. All those persons who have visited it immediately after a convulsion, concur in saying that every fallen tree and rock has been moved. The smallest fragments have been thrown from their beds as though they had been lifted up. In confirmation of this statement I observed that a large block of granite, of an oblong form, which, from its size, must have weighed not less than two thousand tons, had been broken into three pieces of nearly equal size. This mass was lying loosely on the top of the ground, in a place nearly level, and there were no signs of its having rolled or slidden. The fragments were separated only a few inches, rendering it almost certain that it had been broken by a sudden shock or jar, which did not continue long enough to throw the pieces far apart.

Some parts of the surface of the earth have sunk down irregularly a few feet, other portions have been raised. There are a number of little elevations or hillocks, some of a few feet only in extent, and others twenty and thirty yards over. The largest rise at the centre to the height of eight or ten feet, and slope gradually down; some of these have been surrounded on all sides by a fissure, which is not yet entirely filled up. In some instances the trees on their sides, none of them large, are bent considerably from the perpendicular, showing that they had attained some size before the change of level took place on the surface where they grow.

The sides of the mountain generally are covered by a good vegetable mould, not particularly rocky, and sustaining trees of large size. But along the belt of convulsion the rocks are much more abundant, and there are only young trees growing, the elasticity of which enabled them to stand during the shocks.

With reference to the mineral structure of the locality, it may be remarked that that entire section seems to constitute a hypogene formation. It consists of granites, gneiss, sometimes porphyritic, hornblende rock, micaceous schists, clay slate, and various other metamorphic strata. The nearest aqueous rocks that I know of are the conglomerate sandstone and sedimentary limestone, in the vicinity of the Warm Springs, fifteen miles distant in a direct line. If any volcanic rock has been found in hundreds of miles I am not aware of it. The mountain itself bears the most indubitable marks of plutonic origin. It consists mainly of a grayish white granite, in which the felspar greatly predominates, but it is sometimes rendered dark by an excess of mica in minute black scales. This latter mineral I saw also there in small rather irregular crystals. Some portions of the rock contained, however, its three ingredients, in nearly equal proportions; the quartz, in color, frequently approaching ash gray. In several places I observed that the granite was cut vertically by veins of gray translucent quartz, of from one to six inches in thickness. There were also lying in places on the ground lumps of common opaque white quartz, intersected by narrow veins, not exceeding half an inch in thickness, of specular iron, of the highest degree of brilliancy and hardness that that mineral is capable of possessing. It may be remarked that there are, in different directions within two miles of the locality, two considerable deposits of magnetic iron ore. The only rock which I observed there possessing any appearance of stratification seems to consist of mica, hornblende and a little felspar, in a state of intimate mixture. Having but a few hours to remain there, I do not pretend that there are not many other minerals at the locality; but I have no doubt but that the predominating character of the formation is such as I have endeavored to describe it, and I have been thus minute, in order that others may be able to judge more accurately in relation to the cause of the disturbances.

Before visiting the locality I supposed that the phenomena might be produced by the giving way of some part of the base of the mountain, so as to produce a sinking or sliding of the parts; but a moment’s examination was decisive on this point. It not unfrequently happens that aqueous rocks rest on beds of clay, gravel, &c., which may be removed from underneath them by the action of running water or other causes. Cavities are thus produced, and it sometimes happens that considerable bodies of secondary limestone and other sedimentary strata sink down with a violent shock. This, however, is found to be true only of such strata as are deposited from water. But at the locality under consideration the rocks are exclusively of igneous origin, and, I may add, two of the class termed _hypogene_ or “_netherformed_.” For though felspar and hornblende have been found in the lower parts of some of the lavas, where the mass had been subjected to great pressure and cooled slowly, yet quartz and mica have never been found as constituents of any volcanic rock, not even in the basaltic dikes and injected traps, where there must have been a pressure equal to several hundred atmospheres. It is universally conceded by geologists that those rocks of which these minerals constitute a principal part, have been produced at great depths in the earth, where they were subjected to enormous pressure during their slow cooling and crystallization. Prior, therefore, to the denudation which has exposed these masses of granite to our view, they must have been overlaid and pressed down while in a fluid state by superincumbent strata of great thickness and vast weight. It is not probable, therefore, that any cavities could exist, nor, even if it were possible that such could be the case, is it at all likely that a granite arch which once upheld such an immense weight would in our day give way under the simple pressure of the atmosphere; or, even if we were to adopt the improbable supposition that the mass of granite composing this mountain had been formed at a great depth below the present surface of the earth, and forced up _bodily_ by plutonic action, there is as little reason to believe that any cavities could exist. In fact, they are never found under granites. On looking at the surface of the ground at this place there is no appearance to indicate any general sinking of the mass. At the top of the ridge, where the fractures are observable across it, there is no variation in the slope of the surface or depression of the broken parts. Immediately below it, where the mountain has great steepness, equal at least to an inclination of forty-five degrees, where the line of fracture is parallel to the direction of the ridge, the surface is sunk suddenly ten or fifteen feet. This state of things, however, would inevitably be produced at such an inclination by the force of gravity alone, causing the parts separated by the shock to sink somewhat as they descend the mountain side. Lower down, where the steepness is not so great, the elevations much exceed the depressions. The same is true of the appearances on the south side of the branch, where the surface is almost level for several hundred yards; and I think that any one surveying the whole of the disturbed ground will be brought to the conclusion that there has been a general upheaval rather than a depression, and that the irregularities now observable are due to a force acting from below, which has, during the shocks, unequally raised different parts of the surface. One of the earlier geologists, while this science was in its infancy, would probably have ascribed these phenomena to the presence underneath the surface of a bed of pyrites, bituminous shale, or some other substances capable of spontaneous combustion, which had taken fire from being penetrated by a stream of water or some other accidental cause. If such a combustion were to take place at a considerable depth below the surface, and should to a great extent heat the strata above, they would thereby be expanded and thickened so as to be forced upward. Such an expansion, though it would be less in granite than in some other strata, as shown by your fellow-townsman, Col. Totten, would nevertheless, if the heated mass were thick and the elevation of temperature considerable, be sufficient to raise the surface as much as it appears to have been elevated; such expansion, however, being necessarily from its nature very gradual, would not account for the various violent shocks nor for the irregular action at the surface. On the other hand, if the burning mass were near the surface, so as to cause explosion by means of gases generated from time to time, it is scarcely conceivable that such gases, while escaping through fissures of the rock above, should fail to be observed, inasmuch as a great volume would be necessary to supply the requisite amount of force, nor is it at all probable that such a state of things would not be accompanied by a sensible change of temperature at the surface. The difficulty in the way of such a supposition is greatly increased when we consider the form of the long narrow belt acted on, and from the recurrence of the sudden violent shocks after long intervals of quiet. Such a hypothesis in fact I do not regard as entitled to more respect than another one which was suggested to me at the place. As it has no other merit than that of _originality_, I should not have thought it worth repeating but for the statement of fact made in support of it. While I was observing the locality, my attention was directed to an elderly man who was gliding with a stealthy step through the forest, carrying on his left shoulder a rifle, and in his right hand a small hoe, such as the diggers of ginseng use. His glances, alternating between the distant ridges and the plants about his feet, showed that while looking for deer he was not unmindful of the wants of the inhabitants of the Celestial Empire. On my questioning him in relation to the appearances, he said that he had observed them often after the different shocks; that the appearances were changed each time at the surface; that I ought to see it just after a shock, before the rain and leaves had filled the cracks, adding that it did “not show at all now.” He expressed a decided opinion that the convulsions were produced by _silver_ under the surface. On my remarking that though I knew that that metal, in the hands of men, was an effective agent in cleaving rocks and excavating the earth, yet I had not supposed it could exert such an influence when deeply buried under ground, he stated in support of his opinion, that one of his neighbors had, on the north side of the mountain, found a spring hot enough to boil an egg. He also added that some three years since he had seen on the mountain, two miles to the north of this one, but in the direction seemingly of the line of force, a blazing fire for several hours, rising up sometimes as high as the tops of the trees, and going out suddenly for a moment at a time at frequent intervals. He declared that at the distance of a mile from where he was, the brightness was sufficient to enable him to see small objects. Several other persons in the vicinity I found subsequently professed to have seen the same light from different points of view, and described it in a similar manner. As no one of them seems to have thought enough of the matter to induce him to attempt to approach the place, though some persons represented that they had subsequently found a great quantity of “cinder” at the point, the statement of fact is not perhaps entitled to more weight than the hypothesis it was intended to support.

It is probable, however, that some difficulty will attend any explanation that can be offered in relation to the phenomena at this place. We know that the elevation of the surface of the earth is at many places undergoing a change, so gradual as not to be observed at any one time. Some of the northwestern parts of Europe, for example, are experiencing a slow upheaval equal to five or six feet in a century, while on the coast of Greenland the _subsidence_, or depression, is such that even the ignorant inhabitants have learned that it is not prudent for them to build their huts near the edge of the water. Similar changes are observed in various other places, but they obviously bear no analogy to the facts under consideration. Again, it is well known that earthquakes from time to time agitate violently portions of the earth’s surface, of greater or less extent; that while one single shock has permanently raised two or three feet the coast of Chili for several hundred miles, others have elevated or depressed comparatively small spaces. It usually happens, however, that when the shock is so forcible at one point as to break the solid strata of the globe, the surrounding parts are violently agitated for a considerable distance. In the present instance, however, the shock for half a mile at least in length, and for the breadth of one hundred yards, is such as to cleave a mass of granite of seemingly indefinite extent, and so quick and sudden as to displace the smallest fragments on the surface; and yet at the house of Mr. Rogers, less than half a mile distant, a slight trembling only is felt, not sufficient to excite alarm, while at the distance of a few miles, though the sound is heard, no agitation of the ground is felt. Should we adopt the view of those who maintain that all the central parts of the earth are in a state of fusion, and that violent movements of parts of the melted mass give rise to the shocks which are felt at the surface, the explanation of this and similar phenomena is still not free from difficulty. Upon the supposition that the solid crust of the globe has no greater thickness than that assumed by Humboldt, some twenty-odd miles, it would scarcely seem that such a crust, composed of rocky strata, would have the requisite degree of elasticity to propagate a violent shock to so small a surface, without a greater agitation of the surrounding parts than is sometimes observed. Volcanic eruptions, however, take place through every variety of strata; but these volcanoes are rarely if ever isolated; on the contrary, not only the volcanoes now active, but such as have been in a state of rest from the earliest historic era, are distributed along certain great lines of force, or belts, the limits of which seem to have been pretty well defined by geologists. But I am not aware of there being any evidence afforded of volcanic action, either in recent or remote geological ages, within hundreds of miles of this locality. Even if such exist beneath the sea, it must be at least two hundred miles distant. If then we attribute these convulsions to the same causes which have elsewhere generated earthquakes and volcanoes, is it probable that this is the only point in the Alleghany range thus acted on? The fact that nothing else of the kind has been, as far as I know, published to the world, is by no means conclusive, since the disturbances here have not only been unnoticed by writers, but are even unknown to nine-tenths of those persons living within fifty miles of the spot. Is it then improbable that different points of the great mountain range are sensibly acted on from year to year? It is true that this may be the only locality affected. It might be supposed that there is at this place a mass of rock, separated wholly or partially from the adjoining strata, reaching to a great depth, and resting on a fluid basin, the agitation of which occasionally would give a shock to the mass. Though such be not at all probable, yet it is conceivable that such a mass might possess the requisite shape; and if at the top, instead of being a single piece, it should have a number of irregular fragments resting on it below the surface, then it might be capable of producing inequalities observable after each successive convulsion. From the form, however, of the belt acted on, as well as from other considerations, such a hypothesis is only possible, not probable. It would perhaps more readily be conceded that there was in the solid strata below an oblong opening, or wide fissure, connected with the fluid basin below, and filled either with melted lava, or more probably with elastic gas, condensed under vast pressure, so that the occasional agitations below would be propagated to the surface at this spot. Or if we suppose that steam, at a high heat, or some of the other elastic gaseous substances, should escape through fissures from the depths below, but have their course obstructed near the surface, so as to accumulate from time to time, until their force was sufficient to overpower the resistance, then a succession of periodic explosions might occur. Such a state of things would be analogous to the manner in which Mr. Lyell accounts for the Geysers, or Intermittent Hot Springs, in Iceland, except that the intervals between the explosions in this instance are much greater than in the other. It is easy to conceive that the shocks of some former earthquakes may have produced the requisite condition in the strata at that place.

Or, should we reject all such suppositions, it might be worth while to inquire whether this and similar phenomena may not be due to electricity? The opinion seems to have become general with men of science, that there are great currents of electricity circulating in the shell of the globe, mainly if not entirely in directions parallel to the magnetic equator. The observations and experiments of Mr. Fox have, in the opinion of a geologist so eminent as Mr. Lyell, established the fact that there are electro-magnetic currents along metalliferous veins. Taking these things to be true, it may well be that the electricity in its passage should be collected and concentrated along certain great veins. During any commotion in the great ocean of electricity, the currents along such lines, or rather where they are interrupted, might give rise to sensible shocks. The exceedingly quick vibratory motion, often observed on such occasions, seems analogous to some of the observed effects of electricity. In the present instance the line of force appears to coincide with the direction of the magnetic needle. It is also represented that the sound accompanying the convulsions is heard more distinctly at Waynesville, twenty miles south, than it is within two or three miles to the east or west of the locality, seeming to imply that the force may be exerted in a long line, though it is more intense at a particular point. In adverting, however, to the manner in which the phenomena observed at this place might possibly be accounted for, it is not my expectation to be able to arrive at their cause. One whose attention is mainly directed to political affairs, and who at most gets but an occasional glimpse of a book of science, ought neither to assume, nor to be expected to accomplish this. I have adopted the above mode of making suggestions as to the causes, solely to enable me to explain the facts observed in a more intelligible manner than I could do by a mere detail of the appearances and events as narrated. Perhaps those whose minds are chiefly occupied with the consideration of such subjects will find an easy solution of these phenomena. Should this letter be instrumental in eliciting information in relation to similar disturbances elsewhere in the Alleghany range, then its publication may answer some valuable purpose.

Very respectfully, yours,
T. L. CLINGMAN.

Messrs. Gales & Seaton.

P. S. Since writing this letter, I have been apprized of a similar convulsion which occurred six or seven years ago, at a place some forty miles distant from this in a southwesterly direction. My informant says that at his house the ground was agitated for some minutes during a rumbling sound, and that a few miles off, the earth was rent and broken for the distance of two miles in length and nearly a half mile in breadth. Though I have not seen the locality, I have no doubt of the truth of the statement, nor of the general resemblance of the phenomena to those I have described above.

T. L. C.

_To J. S. Skinner, Esq._

House of Representatives, Feb. 3, 1844.

Dear Sir: Your favor of the 30th ultimo was received a day or two since, and I now avail myself of the very first opportunity to answer it. I do so most cheerfully, because, in the first place, I am happy to have it in my power to gratify in any manner one who has done so much as yourself to diffuse correct information on subjects most important to the agriculture of the country; and, secondly, because I feel a deep interest in the subject to which your inquiries are directed.

You state that you have directed some attention to the sheep husbandry of the United States, in the course of which it has occurred to you that the people of the mountain regions of North Carolina, and some of the other Southern States, have not availed themselves sufficiently of their natural advantages for the production of sheep. Being myself well acquainted with the western section of North Carolina, I may perhaps be able to give you most of the information you desire. As you have directed several of your inquiries to the county of Yancey, (I presume from the fact, well known to you, that it contains the highest mountains in any of the United States,) I will, in the first place, turn my attention to that county. First, as to its elevation. Dr. Mitchell, of our University, ascertained that the bed of Tow river, the largest stream in the county, and at a ford near its centre, was about twenty-two hundred feet above the level of the ocean. Burnsville, the seat of the court-house, he found to be between 2,800 and 2,900 feet above it. The general level of the county is, of course, much above this elevation. In fact, a number of the mountain summits rise above the height of six thousand feet. The climate is delightfully cool during the summer: there being very few places in the county where the thermometer rises above 80° on the hottest day. An intelligent gentleman who passed a summer in the northern part of the county (rather the more elevated portion of it) informed me that the thermometer did not rise on the hottest days above 76°.

You ask, in the next place, if the surface of the ground is so much covered with rocks as to render it unfit for pasture? The reverse is the fact; no portion of the county that I have passed over is too rocky for cultivation, and in many sections of the county one may travel miles without seeing a single stone. It is only about the tops of the highest mountains that rocky precipices are to be found. A large portion of the surface of the county is a sort of elevated table-land, _undulating_, but seldom too broken for cultivation. Even as one ascends the higher mountains, he will find occasionally on their sides flats of level land containing several hundred acres in a body. The top of the Roan (the highest mountain in the county except the Black) is covered by a prairie for ten miles, which affords a rich pasture during the greater part of the year. The ascent to it is so gradual, that persons ride to the top on horseback from almost any direction. The same may be said of many of the other mountains. The soil of the county generally is uncommonly fertile, producing with tolerable cultivation abundant crops. What seems extraordinary to a stranger is the fact that the soil becomes richer as he ascends the mountains. The sides of the Roan, the Black, the Bald, and others, at an elevation of even five or six thousand feet above the sea, are covered with a deep rich vegetable mould, so soft, that a horse in dry weather often sinks to the fetlock. The fact that the soil is frequently more fertile as one ascends, is, I presume, attributable to the circumstance that the higher portions are more commonly covered with clouds, and the vegetable matter being thus kept in a cool moist state while decaying, is incorporated to a greater degree with the surface of the earth just as it is usually found that the north side of a hill is richer than the portion most exposed to the action of the sun’s rays. The sides of the mountains, the timber being generally large, with little undergrowth and brushwood, are peculiarly fitted for pasture grounds, and the vegetation is in many places as luxuriant as it is in the rich savanna of the low country.

The soil of every part of the county is not only favorable to the production of grain, but is peculiarly fitted for grasses. Timothy is supposed to make the largest yield, two tons of hay being easily produced on an acre, but herds-grass, or red-top, and clover, succeed equally well; blue-grass has not been much tried, but is said to do remarkably well. A friend showed me several spears, which he informed me were produced in the northern part of the county, and which by measurement were found to exceed seventy inches in length; oats, rye, potatoes, turnips, &c., are produced in the greatest abundance.

With respect to the prices of land, I can assure you that large bodies of uncleared rich land, most of which might be cultivated, have been sold at prices varying from twenty-five cents to fifty cents per acre. Any quantity of land favorable for sheep-walks might be procured in any section of the county, at prices varying from one to ten dollars per acre.

The few sheep that exist in the county thrive remarkably well, and are sometimes permitted to run at large during the winter without being fed, and without suffering. As the number kept by any individual is not large enough to justify the employment of a shepherd to take care of them, they are not unfrequently destroyed by vicious dogs, and more rarely by wolves, which have not yet been entirely exterminated.

I have been somewhat prolix in my observations on this county, because some of your inquiries were directed particularly to it, and because most of what I have said of Yancey is true of the other counties west of the Blue Ridge. Haywood has about the same elevation and climate of Yancey. The mountains are rather more steep, and the valleys somewhat broader; the soil generally not quite so deep, but very productive, especially in grasses. In some sections of the county, however, the soil is equal to the best I have seen.

Buncombe and Henderson are rather less elevated—Ashville and Hendersonville, the county towns, being each about 2,200 feet above the sea. The climate is much the same, but a very little warmer. The more broken portions of these counties resemble much the mountainous parts of Yancey and Haywood, but they contain much more level land. Indeed the greater portion of Henderson is quite level. It contains much swamp land, which, when cleared, with very little if any drainage, produces very fine crops of herds-grass. Portions of Macon and Cherokee counties are quite as favorable, both as to climate and soil, as those above described. I would advert particularly to the valleys of the Nantahalah, Fairfield, and Hamburg, in Macon, and of Cheoh, in Cherokee. In either of these places, for a comparatively trifling price, some ten or fifteen miles square could be procured, all of which would be rich, and the major part sufficiently level for cultivation, and especially fitted, as their natural meadows indicate, for the production of grass.

In conclusion, I may say that, as far as my limited knowlege of such matters authorizes me to speak, I am satisfied that there is no region that is more favorable to the production of sheep than much of the country I have described. It is every where healthy and well watered. I may add, too, that there is water power enough in the different counties composing my Congressional district, to move more machinery than human labor can ever place there—enough, certainly, to move all now existing in the Union. It is also a rich mineral region. The gold mines are worked now to a considerable extent. The best ores of iron are found in great abundance in many places; copper, lead,[1] and other valuable minerals exist. That must one day become the great manufacturing region of the South. I doubt if capital could be used more advantageously in any part of the Union than in that section.

For a number of years past the value of the live stock (as ascertained from books of the Turnpike Company) that is driven through Buncombe county is from two to three millions of dollars. Most of this stock comes from Kentucky and Ohio, and when it has reached Ashville it has travelled half its journey to the more distant parts of the Southern market, viz. Charleston and Savannah. The citizens of my district, therefore, can get their live stock into the planting States south of us at one half the expense which those of Kentucky and Ohio are obliged to incur. Not only sheep, but hogs, horses, mules, and horned cattle can be produced in many portions of my district as cheaply as in those two States.

Slavery is, as you say, a great _bugbear_, perhaps, at a distance; but I doubt if any person from the North, who should reside a single year in that country, whatever might be his opinions in relation to the institution itself, would find the slightest injury or inconvenience result to him individually. It is true, however, that the number of slaves in those counties is very small in proportion to the whole population.

I have thus, sir, hastily endeavored to comply with your request, because you state that you would like to have the information at once. Should you find my sketch of the region a very unsatisfactory and imperfect one, I hope you will do me the favor to remember that the desk of a member during a debate is not the most favorable position for writing an essay.

With very great respect, yours,
T. L. CLINGMAN.

J. S. Skinner, Esq.

_To the Editor of the Highland Messenger._

You published a few weeks since an extract from an article in Silliman’s Journal, contributed by Prof. Shepard, in which he described a diamond sent him from this region a few months since. As that extract excited some interest in the minds of a number of my friends who are engaged in the mining business, I inclose you a letter from Prof. Shepard, the publication of which I am sure would be acceptable to many of your readers. I may remark in explanation, that within the last few years I have sent Prof. Shepard some hundreds of specimens of minerals collected in this and some of the other western counties of the State. In some instances a doubt as to the character of a particular mineral induced me to take this course, but more frequently it was done to gratify those of my acquaintances who wished to have their specimens examined by one in whose decision there would be absolute acquiescence. I knew too, that I should by these means be able favorably to make known to the public the existence in Western North Carolina, of such minerals as might be valuable in a commercial point of view, or interesting to the scientific world. The letter which I send you, was received in reply to an inquiry directed to Prof. Shepard, as to what was his opinion generally in relation to the minerals of this region, and what he thought of the propriety of a more careful survey of it than has hitherto been made. The answer, though merely in reply to my inquiries, is of such a character that I feel quite sure that its publication will be alike creditable to the writer and beneficial to the public. Even should it fail to produce any such impression on the minds of our legislators as might induce them to direct a complete geological survey of the State, its publicity may in other respects prove beneficial.

I have been pleased to observe that the letter of Prof. Mitchell, in relation to some of the minerals of this region, which appeared in your paper a year or two since, aroused the attention of a number of persons to that subject, and has been the means of bringing under my observation several interesting minerals. By going (whenever leisure has been afforded me,) to examine such localities as from their singular appearance or any peculiarity of external character, had aroused the attention of persons in the neighborhood,—I have induced many to manifest an interest in such subjects, so that there is in this region a considerable increase in the number of individuals who will lay up and preserve for examination singular looking minerals. Others are deterred from so doing, lest they should be laughed at by their neighbors as unsuccessful _hunters of mines_. Doubtless they deserve ridicule, who, so ignorant of mineralogy as not to be able to distinguish the most valuable metallic ores from the most common and worthless rocks, nevertheless spend their whole time in travelling about the country under the guidance of _mineral rods_ or dreams, in search of mines. But, almost every one may without serious loss of time and with trifling inconvenience to himself, preserve for future examination specimens of the different mineral substances he meets with in his rambles. He ought to remember that by so doing he may have it in his power to add to the knowledge, wealth and happiness of his countrymen. Partially separated as this region of country is by its present physical condition from the commercial world, it is of the first consequence to its inhabitants that all its resources should be developed. Opening valuable mines, besides diverting labor now unprofitably, because excessively, applied to agriculture, would attract capital from abroad and furnish a good home market to the farmer.

Should the proposed Railroad from Columbia to Greenville, S. C., be completed. I am of opinion that the manganese and chrome ores in this and some of the adjoining counties would be profitably exported. Though the veins of sulphate of baryta in the northern part of this county, contain pure white varieties suitable to form an adulterant in the manufacture of the white lead of commerce, yet for want of a navigable stream, it is not probable that they will ever be turned to account in that way. They have, however, at some points, a metallic appearance at the surface, they lie at right angles to the general direction of the veins of the country, go down vertically, and being associated abundantly with several varieties of iron pyrites, oxides of iron, fluor spar and quartz, and containing traces of copper and lead, will doubtless at no very distant day, be explored to a greater or less extent. There is not a single county west of the Blue Ridge, that does not contain in abundance rich iron ores. In some instances these deposits are adjacent to excellent water power and lime-stone, and are surrounded by heavily timbered cheap lands. The sparry carbonate of iron, or _steel ore_, of which a specimen some years since, fell under the observation of Prof. Mitchell, though he was not able to ascertain the locality from which it came, is abundant at a place rather inaccessible in the present condition of the country. It is not probable that in our day the beautiful statuary marble of Cherokee, both white and flesh-colored, will be turned to much account for want of the means of getting it into those markets where it is needed. Besides the minerals referred to in Prof. Shepard’s letter, some of the ores of copper exist in the western part of this State. I have the carbonate, (green malachite,) the black oxide, and some of the sulphurets. Whether, however, these, as well as the ores of lead and zinc, (both the carbonate and sulphuret exist here,) are in sufficient abundance to be valuable, cannot be ascertained without further examination than has yet been made.