Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1884-06-06
TIE PHMNLx ON TIE VINO.


ytRGGNNY" AND DOWN THE SHENANDOAH
THE NATURAL BRIDuE-THB oAvEBNs OF LU-
RAY-oN THE BATTLE-GROUND OF ANTIETANf.
The party Of New England press excur-
sionists, to whom allusion was made in these
columns two weeks ago, left Atlanta on their
homeward way on Monday afternoon, May
10. Tho impression which the traveller gets
of Northern Georgia depends largely on the
line of railroad by which he travels. Our
southwark journey was by the Virginia. East
Tennessee and Georgia air line which runs
through region sparsely settled, where
miles Of virgin timber lands intervene be-
tween clearings and settlements and where
one gets the impression of n country rich in
agricultural possibilities yet to be developed.
Our return was by way of the old and pros.
porous Western q Atlantic line which is lined
almost the entire way from Atlanta to Chat.
tanooga with prosperous looking farms, where
cotton was then just pushing its first leaves
above the ground, corn was six inches high,
and winter wheat was making ready for the
harvest Every mile of the way is historic
ground, and on almost every hilltop we may
see marks Of the path over which Sherman
fought his way southwark to Atlanta.
The memory of supper eaten at Cleye-
land, Tennessee, town just over the border,
that evening. dwolls in the memory in a way
which compels mention. The day had
been busy one, full Of Sightseeing hustle
and travel, with the mercury well up toward
the nineties, and after such a day it was az
though veritable haven OF rest had been
reached when the party found itself seated at
the tables Of the Hatcher house, in its ample
and wholesome dining room. Tho fare was
abundant-even generous to a fault-the meal
was deftly and neatly served, and over all
was the strong, cordial voice of the landlord
"You have time enough, ladies and gentle
men. Don't hurry, but take oil the time you
want To our question as we paid the
modest charge for the meal "Will you tell
us whether it is that you are losing money
here, or that all the other fellows on the way
are getting rich?n Mr.. Hatcher frankly an
swered II am making money. When my
wife and | came hero eight years ago we
found an old rickety, tumble down building.
We have made money enough to build this
new hotel and we arc making money now"
Words OF sincere appreciation we're said all
around, and as we left we gave, at the call
OF our president three hearty cheers for the
man who knows how to keep a railroad hotel
and eating. .house-and does it. Some day
when We have time we mean to write ser.
mon about the blessed and essential part of
the worlds work which every man does who,
in public resort, serves simple food, well
cooked, with wellappointed, cheerful and
clean surroundings.
That night we watched the sun go down
and the darkness gather from the platform
of our car in the rear of the train, amid a
charming and ever-changing panorama of
fertile fields, rolling country, snatches
of woodland, and everywhere the full, rich
vegetation Of early summer. 1t was small
wonder If, at that hour, New England life
seemed thing far away and unreal-like
dream, whether Of the past or the future one
hardly cared to think
Next morning found us bowling down the
eastern slope of the AlleghRnieg and over the
beautiful valley which lies between them and
the Blue Ridge chain. All illusion was gone,
for here was country Of hill and dnle OF
mountain and valley, OF river meadow and
forest with broad acres finely cultivated and
substantial, prosperous. looking farm houses on
every hand 1t was a country, in short, to
which New Englander might be transplant
cd without even knowing that he had left his
native soil, save only that he would miss
something OF rocky ruggedness and would
look with surprise to see the mountain sides
fertile and cultivated even to their summits
Up, over, and down the Blue Ridge sped the
train with pictures Of ndescribable grandeur
and lovliness, ever changing and ever glim-
mering away into the dim distance, and at
carly noon we were at Roanoke, O town in
been most kind in its surroundings, and into
whose veins railroad capital and enterprise
have sent throbbing tide of new life. The
commodious Queen Anne railroad station and
the equally commodious aud handsome "Ho-
tel Roanoke" which crowns rising land near
by, are like "a picture out of q book, and
both in themselves and in all their belong
ings they suggest summer luxury and COM
fort, and almost compel the traveller to linger
whether he will or no.
But our New Englanders had other and
greater attractions before them and directly
we had switched of from the Norfolk a Wes-
tern trunk line and were speeding away up
the Shenandoah Valley road, with tho Natural
Bridge, the caverns of Luray and the beauti.
full scenery Of the upper James and lo~or
Shenandoah valleys all before us. 1t was
with a real delight, which became almost boy
ish in its manner of expression, that the par
ty, at the end of a ride of an hour and half
by this line, left the cars and climbed up into
a swaying, jolting stage coach, for ride over
the hills and far away to ono OF natures most
wonderful freaks on this continent-the
Great Natural Bridge"
About this strange piece Of natures work a
halo of romance has always been thrown, in
our imagination, almost since our earliest rec
objection. Times without number, in our
school days, We read the description of the
bridge as given in Towns Fourth Reader. 4"
Our head swan in sympathy rs we looked of
its dizzy height through tho eye of the mar
rator, our heart thrilled with pride as we saw
the immortal G.. Washington climb up its
side to carve his name-not with the immor-
tai hatchet but with a commonplace jack
knife, and our blood curded in our veins rs
we watched the course OF that other reckless
youth who, with malice aforethought went the
Father of his Country several points better in
the name carving business, hnd thon nearly
lost his life As the just reward for such an act
of filial disrespect
That the bridge fulfilled every anticipation
that our boyish Imagination had raised in re-
gard to it we shall not bo rash enough to say
Wonderful and grand it certainly is, but its
grandeur must be studied and dwelt upon and
come 10 have a certain familiarity before it
sinks into the soul and leaves its due impress.
It is like some beautiful and inspiring picture
which one returns to again and again and
needs to be alone with before he can really
say that he has made it his own. The bridge
spans narrow chasm only some GO feet wide,
little brook winds among the stones more
than 200 feet beneath its lofty arch, mighty
cliffs rise in sheer precipices on either side,
and all about is nature in her widest mood.
The natural bridge property has lately been
bought by Mr.. II. @. Parsons, a Vermonter,
and captain during the war in the First Yer
mont Cavalry. He has added by purchase to
the original property until his estate now COW
ers 2000 acres, and here he has removed for
permanent residence, to live a life of we'll
earned leisure amid the most delightful sur
roundings to be imagined. The party were
indebted TO Mr.. Parsons for an afternoon of
kindly and gracious attentions, and in the
evening he did them the rare honor to have
the bridge illuminated by torches and great
bonfres, 1t was by this means, with the
darkness shutting the sky out of view, that
our truest impression was got of the real sub
Unity of its great arch, under which the ''tall
tower" of the Tribune building might stand
and which would throw in shadow the spire OF
old Trinity.
The hotels at the bridge are very excellent,
and the whole place is one, from its great
natural beauty and variety of attractions,
where the tourist only wishes that he had be-
fore him q whole summers leisure to bo
| spent there. Let us not forget to. mention,
in passing, that in Knoxville We saw and rode
with gentleman, a longtime resident there,
who told us that the hero Of the climbing af-
fair above alluded TO became one of the lead
ing teachers and college professors in his sec
| ton and that he had himself been one of