Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1891-05-29
THE TRAGEDY ON STONE MOUNTAIN.

THE TRAGEDY ON STONE MOUNTAIN.
Who has not heard men relate the
mighty fascination experienced in
witnessing some terrible tragedy, in
which they had no possible response
bility and which they were as power
less TO avert as the inanimate objects
about them And also heard them
add that the sensation gave them the
same pleasure experienced in witness
ing high tragedy in play That may
be true enough up to a certain point.
But beyond that point, even to the
most helpless, irresponsible and dis
interested witness, the scene shakes
off its theatrical pleasure, and be
comes agonizing reality.
There are various elements which
determine this point of conveyance,
in the mind of the spectator, between
the theatrical fascination and the
vital personal terror produced by the
tragedy. One element is time; an
other individuality. With the indi-
viduality of the participants clearly
developed, and time, the important
factor in the result of the tragedy,
the emotion of terror becomes su-
preme with the spectator.
Nor does the amount of fatality in
the balance at all determine the extent
to which the spectator realizes the.ter-
ror of the situation.
For instance 1t is well establish
ed fact that a spectator can witness.
with playhouse pleasure-when pow
erless to attempt to prevent inevita-
BILE collision-the awful spectacle of
two swiftly-approaching trains,
freighted with doomed human beings.
The people are concealed. The spec
tator knows that they are there,
knows that they are many and that
they are surely doomed. But he does
not see the distinct individuals i'm
plicated. and he feels that time holds
no hope for deliverance. Therefore
he consciously or unconsciously gets
a kind of stage pleasure out of the
exciting spectacle.
Let me illustrate, from a personal
experience, the point where the ele-
ments of time and individually rem
der a tragedy insupportably and su-
premely terrible to the most Innocent
helpless and disinterested spectator
Manyautumns ago, the approaching
marriage of family friend furnished
me occasion for visit to Atlanta,
where he and his promised wife re
sided. Under the circumstances, l
expected to see little of him, but the
southern country was new TO me and
| anticipated seeing rs much of that
as should prove of interest.
One exquisitely clear day, shortly
after my arrival, | took an early lunch
and boarded the noon train for Stone
Mountain.
The gentleman who shared his car
seat with me was on the same mission.
but was far better posted on the
scene which we were to visit than |.
He stated it was rumored that there
was a cave. in the almost perpendicu-
lar side of the mountain, which was
inhabited by myriads of bees. As it
was discernibe only at distance, we
agreed TO make wide circuit at the
base of the mountain, to point OPP
posite the supposed bee cave, and see
if my powerful field glass would re-
veal the cavity and possibly some
safe way Of reaching it from the sum-
nit above.
Stone Mountain is a single immense
bowlder. one solid rock rising to a
height of three thousand feet from
an almost level plain. Its three sides
are all steep. but the side facing out
upon the open plain, invisible from the
railroad, is extremely precipitous and
in places perpendicular. The soil
which ages had strewn into its crew.
ces and upon its dizzy little table land
had rooted occasional clusters Of
hardy black jack oaks, and the vault
ing ambition of some settler had led
him to plant cabin and a vineyard
upon the most sheltered and fertile
portion of the plateau.
AT the base of the mountain near
est the station are the stone quarries.
A number of men were at work in
them, cutting paving stone from the
foot Of the great bowlder. 1t occurred
to Inc as noticed them that James
Hardy. my Atlanta friend, was inter
ested in the quarries.
As our circuitous walk brought us
into view of the most precipitous side
of the mountain, my COLE panion passed
the glass 70 me and said:
Now for the cave
Yes; now for the caver | repeat
ed, lifting the glass to my eyes.
We were no small distance from the
foot of the mountain, and perhaps a