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THE NtlW YORK
PUBLIC LIBRARY
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ASTOR, LE.NOX ANO j
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Copyright, 1884,
By C. K. lord,
Alt rights resevTed.
I KMI5HT a. LEOTIAH-g . I
^TJ^^/LB a few introductory sentences are deejued
\^J^\ J'cqnisitc for the proper presentation of afiy pub-
licatio7t in book form, in I his instance there is
really no call for such. At the risk of appear i no- driven
for the want of something more oj^iginal to say, it can ivell
be stated that this little book speaks for itself. A glance
over its pages will quickly disclose an answer to the
question whether or not its utterance has been to such
point as to interest those designed to he interested : and
if the answer be in the negative, then all the prefaces
ever written zuould not avail.
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'^\ir^oui^\l Wa^f7iQ<^t:or2 We^t.
HKOL'dll Washington west
moans much to the average trav-
eler, for, if it be that he has not hitherto
MF^t\ set foot in the beautiful capital cit>', or that
"It^I he has enjoyed that pleasure in the past,
the zest is in one case, as in the other.
keen, and the anticipation enlarged to no
ordinar)- extent. Through Washington
'; east has equal significance, as in eitlier
direction the trip is \ia the National
Capital, all express trains on Picturesque H. & U.
passing directl\- through the city, and, in fact,
within the very shadow of the majestic structure in which is
centered the government of the countr\'. The exact line of
the Baltimore & Ohio appears to still remain something of a
conundrum to not a few people, and this, too, despite the
extensive dissemination of printed matter intended to fully
advise on this particular point. One would think that the
frequency with which the words "Picturesque H. & O. Only
line via Washington," meet the eye, here, there and every-
where throughout the land, that e\'ery man, wcMiian and child
understood it "like a book." However, a good many people
know a route best by actual passage over it, and thus the
memorv of the olden time, or the more immediate remem-
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brancc of a trip to Washington by other, and thus necessarily
roundabout lines, leads to an impression that is difficult
to erase. This is, that to get to the National Capital one
mu^ leave the main line and journey southward, whether from
the-E^s^ or the West; or, in any event, if from the West,
reach Baltimore first, and thence to Washington. This is
true of all lines other than the B. & O.; and by this the
position is exactly reversed as regards the trip from the
West, as the train passes through Washington to reach Balti-
more and the East. Thus the passenger, if from the West,
departs via the B. & O. from St. Louis, Louisville, Cincinnati,
Indianapolis, Toledo, Columbus, Chicago and intermediate
points, and enjoys the advantages of through cars to Balti-
more, Philadelphia and New York, which pass directly through
Washington, where, as a matter of course, stop may be made
and the journey resumed at pleasure. Equally attractive
advantages are enjoyed on the through trains from New York,
Philadelphia and Baltimore to the western cities named.
From Pittsburgh the run to Washington is made without the
change of cars of any class whatever, the direct line of the
B. & O. from city to city being by no less than seventy-two
miles the shortest route. From Cleveland and Detroit the
B. & O. is eighty-nine miles the shortest, and incomparably
the best in every respect. Certainly any one reading this
plain and unequivocal statement as to the exact bearing of
the B. & O. line from the Atlantic to the great lakes and
rivers of the West, without change of cars, can no longer
question as to the direct line to the National Capital, or
labor under confusion of comprehension, as the term "Only
line via Washington," means, to the fullest extent, just as it
reads.
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In many respects the Capital Cit)' is the most attractive
center of interest in all the country, and the opportunity
afforded by the trip o\er the B. & O. to spend hours, days or
more, as the sojourn nia\' be extended, w ithcjut increasing
tra\el or losing time en route, is certainly a point well worthy
of careful consideration. Washington is pre-eminentl}' the
tourist city of the country, that is to say, it is perfectly
appointed in all its facilities for the accommodation of such
trax'el. The hotels are \'ery commodious, and of such num-
ber and range of grades as to meet every possible require-
ment. One can pay almost an)- price, from the figures for
entertainment of the "swellest '" description, to those for guests
who care not so much for style, or whose means will not jus-
tify large expenditure. It is the old "pay your mone\- and
take your choice." One thing may be relied upon, and that
is the absence of any trouble in securing accommodations, as
it takes an enormous crowd to fill all the hotels. As a rule,
though there are always very many visitors, like the traditional
"bus," there is always room for one more. Sight seeing about
town is exceedingly inexpensive, as street cars and cab lines
reach every point of interest, and admissions are free every-
where. The excursion to Mount Vernon is a delightful means
of putting in a day's time, and costs very little. The ride down
the Potomac is a charming one, while the inspection of the
tomb of the Father of his Country is replete with interest. The
run over to Baltimore from Washington is little more than an
average street-car ride as to time, but decidedly different as
regards speed. The B. & O. makes the fastest regular time
of an\' road on the continent between the two cities, doing
the forty miles in forty-five minutes with ease.
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•l^e epotoma^^.
HUNDRED >c;us hciicc the two words.
"The Potomac!" will liavc still the mairic
in their utterance w hich now, at the mere
4^ sound, as the lips meet and part, dis-
pels tin- mist of nearly a quarter of a
centur)-, and brinj^s tiie shadow)
past to what appears almf)st a \ivid
present. Men there are, and man)-
of tluin yet in the full and rich
development of perfect manhood, who, with no thou<,dit of
gray hairs or hendinL;- slundders, talk of the da\s when the
Potomac was vc;ril\' a ri\cr of life, as if 'twere but yesterda)-
that their young legs measured the miles of its bayonet-
bristling shore, and tlieir keen, bright e\es watched every
bush, every tree, for the flash which would tell of a presence,
none the more welcome, even if expected. And there are
men upon whose once bron/.etl laces age has left its indeli-
ble marks, and whose steps ha\e lost their elasticit)', but
whose memories have dimmetl not ; and their children and chil-
dren's children know the Potomac as if the realization of what
it once was canu- to them b)- actual experience rather than
through the tales of x'cterans. Mow then, to the soldier,
now the citizen in tlu: ])rime of life, the old man with memory
brighteni-(l b\' li\ing o'er again the past in the stirring rein-
W
inisccnccs which find place in the soul of the N-ouni;-, can the
l't)toniac lose its hallcnved seat in the i^n'eat public heart?
As a"-es <>-o bv will ncjt the beautiful river "-ain new charms
which will ever make it consecrated? Few indeed of the
[jackai^es of old letters dated in "the sixties," which have
become household treasures in homes from h'lorida to Da-
kota, from Maine to Oregon, but contain the words, "The
Potomac." As they are handed down frcjm generation to
generation, and memor)- grows sacred as it links names with
places, who can sa}' that, as one river ever remains most hal-
lowed in religious history, the other will ncjt in its sphere
always compel reverence? Not onl\' reverentl\- is recalled
the by-gone years upon the historic waters, but ofttimes
among "the boys," as old soldiers love to class themselves
w hen speaking of the tented past, are recollections called up
of the rollicking days which formed such strong contrast with
the more serious aspect of the stern business in hand. How
many staid and dignified merchants and professional men of
the present would now hold up their hands in holy horror if
some phonograph could be mysteriously brought out to repro-
duce some of the sentiments expounded twent)- odd years
aL'"o ! For instance, as to the entire absence of any ill eflect
upon the moral nature by the midnight appropriation of the
nhabitants of a hen roost. The surreptitious making away
ith a fine, fat gobbler, or the quiet absorption of an\- number
f nice, fresh em>"s, was then considered the highest round of
the ladder of rectitude. The closer the vicinity of a wholl\'
unsuspecting possessor of "shoulder straps," the greater
would be the glory of the capture. "All's fair in war" was
certainl}- li\ed up to with the closest observation of its true
tenets. If to better the inner man the outer man had to suf-
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Tub Potomac
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fer, so much inorc the zest of the actual realization ; as when
from the pot the steam of the luckless confiscation emerged
to sharpen the appetite and render the more imperative the
necessity of a speedy getting on the outside of the delicacy,
on the principle that dead and masticated fowl tell no tales.
.•\h ! those were days which, despite their hardships, their
toils and dangers, had their red marks; the very contrasts,
so strong and glowing, adding a spice and buoyancy to the
enjoyment of the bright side, which many a man of satiated
ambition to-day would give half his fortune to live over again.
What. wonder that so many journey over the B. & C). by the
side of the memorable river, lost in meditation, realization
of the present effaced in the absorption of the past! Mile
after mile the road follows the \\'indings of the white-capped
ripples, and from the car window one can almost witness the
scenes of a cjuarter (^f a century ago in the pellucid depths of
the pure and uncontaminated stream. Indeed, there are few
more attracti\-e railwa)' journeys in this or any other coun-
try than that 1)\- the banks of the Potomac, aside from the
associations so near and dear to every American heart. The
current winds in and about a valley reall}' exquisite in pic-
turesque beaut\-, the hills now sloping off in long stretches of
cultivated land, and then, by a cjuick turn, the river shutting
itself in among such masses of rich and luxuriant foliage as to
frame the bright, sparkling face so perfectly in contrasts of
color and in shades as to bring the artistic soul in closest
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rapport. Hour follows hour in the formation of views which
appear to \ie. one \\ith another, in calling forth the most
enthusiastic terms of admiration. Kvcn the most unsenti-
mental of passengers cannot but feel what a perfect absurdit\-
it would be to deplore the long and graceful sweep of the
train as it turns hither and thither to keep by the emerald-
set shores of the witching waters. One curve less would
destroy the wonderful s\mmetr\- of this matchless gallery of
Nature's own handiwork. Were the physical conformation of
the section such as would permit, the attempt to make the
B. & O. a straight line would be almost sacrilegious.
From Weverton the three miles to Harper's Ferr}' is
through the very seat of mountain fastnesses, precipitous piles
of granite rising up to a tremendous height and dwarfing the
train until it appears by comparison but as a puny antagonist
flying in the grizzly face of rock-ribbed power. The volume
of water in the Potomac, increased by the flow of the Shenan-
doah just above, becomes a torrent in impetuosity, and seems
so ea"-er to find its wav to the sea that it froths and writhes
to a whiteness really beyond portraiture in beauty. The ruins
of houses long since passed into decay, with tall chimneys
attempting in their scrawny dimensions to rival the towering
masses of rock beside them, add to the general effect, while
the climbinsj ivv vines, the willows, the twisted, weather-beaten
l)ines, all help to form pictures which follow in such rapid
succession as almost to bewilder the e}'e, and cause one to
wish that the train might stop, so as to permit of a single view-
out of all these witching scenes.
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+laP[®ep'(^ F^eppy.
HEN one, awed b\' the rare com-
bination of the ijrandeur in nature
at Harper's Ferry, declares it the
j^lorious culmination of the j)erfcct
,v ctMisonance of the I'otomac
,u' scenery, he speaks that which
none can gainsay. Nevertheless, the justice is not full
and conijjlctc, for here is the Shenandoah hasteninj^ to
a rapid and rapturous union with the Potomac, while
over them historic memories throw the wedding veil,
as it were, and render the marriai^e of the waters most
memorable. It is difficult to commence anything like
a calm and dispassionate description of Harper's Ferrw
The glory of the trio of towering heights, which stand
sturdy sentinels upon the borders of three states, so
impresses and fascinates as to cause all that is respon-
sive in one's nature to pa\- tribute. The enthusiast
cannot find adequate terms to express the effect the
faultless consummation of scenic loveliness has upon
him, and under the witchery of Nature's triumph breaks
forth in rhapsodies which, in after shajie, embodied in
cold lines of plain, black t)pe, ma)' appear overdrawn.
The fact of it is, lunn.m nature is prone to a self
dissection, 1j\ w hich the knifi' is believed to be .ipplied.
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when, in rcalit}-, it is not. So man}- think it \\cal<
to give way in the slightest degree to the purest and best
feelings which assert themselves. Determined to be ashamed
of them, whether or no, the}' straightway essay to stifle senti-
ments which are as far abo\e the impulses what is termed
second thought, as the sk}- is above the earthiest of earth.
Sentiment, other than fashionable gush, is deemed off color,
not the proper form, }-ou know. It would be made to appear
that human nature, when correctl\- trained, is of the consis-
tency of marble. Thus it is the correct thing to exhibit no
feeling whate\"er at the last rites of those presumabl}- dear,
and to look upon scenes of the saddest character w ith the
stoicism of the traditional Roman. To be human, w ith a big
heart overflowing with unrestrained thankfulness to Him who
has made the world so beautiful to look upon, is to be xiil-
gar ; but, thank kind Providence, only to a comparati\e few.
Were it not for strong contrasts the half of life would be
wasted in wondering what the other half was going to be good
for. So with creation, and the lust\-lunged, brain\-, bright-
eyed and warm-soulecl can indeed afford to tower head and
shoulders abo\e pigmies, even at the risk of being as God
intended — natural. .\nd the natural man, in the presence
of royall}' beneficent nature at Harper's Ferr}-, fairl}- revels
in the atmosphere of a perfect unison of that which is dearest
to the eye and the heart. Loudon Heights, on Virginia
shores, which lose their confines in the waters of the Shen-
andoah, soar upward, the tangled masses of foliage, the
scarred and crumbling rocks, the gaunt-armed pines and s}-m-
metrical e\ergreens forming pictures unto themselves, upon
which the artist eye can linger long. \'et,even \\ithin the spell
26
1'H£ P0TOVi*C
of the picturesque there steal in memories of the sacred
4^&^ t P^^^ which fall like a halo about the leafy crest. Stalwart
'' V boys in blue and in g'ra}- struggled through those thick!}'
growing trees and brush, and one and then the other signaled
from the highest peak to answering forces, like themselves,
cloudward. Nestling under the kindl)' protection of the
billowy masses of Bolivar Heights, quaint and crumbling
Harper's Ferry lies. A white steeple here lifts its glittering
finger, indexing the final ambition of man, while there the
weather-beaten side of an old-time warehouse dwarfs sur-
rounding buildings by its larger dimensions, throwing them
into such deep shade as to cause an involuntary feeling that
the shadows of the past and of the present are in keeping.
Ever will Harper's Ferry be visited in the reflective, so to
speak. One cannot climb the rugged and wind-testing
streets without wondering at ev^ery step if John Brown
went that way to his death ; or, perchance, if StoneM'all
marched his men down from Bolivar Heisfhts by this ver\-
route as he sped on to Antietam. Thought, too, comes of
Cjeneral Lee, when, as the humble officer of the United
States army, he here tramped at the head of the few where
afterward he commanded armies. And Burnside, too, now
numbered with the dead. Yes, through memory's halls tread
chieftain after chieftain, brave, gallant and patriotic men ;
whatever their sentiments, their deeds, and their ends, the
turf above their graves grows over all alike. The old
engine house where Brown made his stand still exists,
used now for the storage of the hearse belonging to the
town undertaker. Fitting receptacle ! The building is within
easy range of vision from the car windows as the B. & O.
trains pull in and out. and the notification of an extra
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time at the I^Y-rry is always followed b\' a <^eneral rush of the
passengers over for a closer inspection of the whilom fort.
It is a wonder that an)- of it is left, as curiosity hunters chip
off a relic wherever it is possible. r\)rmerl\- the proprietor
of the hearse left the doors unlocked, in order to ])ermit of
an examination of the interior of the building, but when
visitors commenced chipping off pieces of the hearse body
and of the spokes in the wheels, he concluded that this was
going a little too far. The popular belief appeared to be
that the hearse had once contained John Brown's body
before his soul went marching on. Hence the rage to secure
a memento. From the top of Bolivar Heights the \'iew is
grand beyond description, ami the wide expanse of country
laid so temptingly before the eye is historic ground, almost
every foot of it. To the right is North Mountain, where the
battle had been fought prior to Antietam, and where McClel-
lan pressed Lee so strongh' that he fell back through Boons-
boro and Keedvsville, seven and a half miles to v\ntietam,
fighting all the way. Fully as distinct is South Mountain
itself, where ex-president Hayes was wounded, and whence
he was taken down a ^^iw miles to a farm house ff)r treatment
and attention. Meantime, and on the day of the battle of
South Mountain, .Stonewall Jackson fought here on Holixar
Heights, and captured a large number of Union soltliers.
hrom this elevated position Jackson saw the smoke of Antie-
tam, and hurrying his troops down, following the river to
Shepherdstown, and thence to Antietam, he arrived there
and saved Lee from annihilation.
I^Vom the Heights is also seen the stretch of countr}- (Gen-
eral Lee traversed with his army on the march to (iettysburg.
At this time Maryland Heights, just opposite, was occupied
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by/Ewo thousand Union men under the command of General
ench. Lee's army crossed at Shepherdstown, and recrossed
on his retreat from Gettysburg at F"alling Waters, which
oint is plainly discernible.
Indeed, a book could be inspired by the thoughts of the
eventful scenes which have transpired within the scope of
beautiful country commanded from this position. And Boli-
var is but one of the trinity of heights which played so impor-
tant a part in the occupation and reoccupation of Harper's
Ferry. Maryland Heights, just over the Potomac, are in the
state from which the name was derived. Loudon Heights
are in Virginia and Bolivar Heights in West Virginia. All
trains over the B. & (3. come to a stop by the ruins of
the government arsenal, in sight, as hitherto stated, of
the old Brown fort, and at the very center of one of the
grandest scenes, speaking from a picturesque standpoint, to
be found in any portion of the country. High upon the rock,
which has ever since retained the name of the illustrious
statesman, Thomas Jefferson stood, and warmly declared the
view worth a journey over the Atlantic to behold. "Stand-
ing," he says, "on a very high point of land, on the right
comes the Shenandoah, having ranged the foot of the moun-
i tains a hundred miles to seek a vent ; on the left approaches
the Potomac, in quest of a passage also. In the moment of
their junction they rush together against the mountain, re"
it asunder and pass off to the sea." During the years which
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have passed since, the rock has been preserved as carefully
as though its material were precious.
The through train leaving St. Louis in the morning, Cin-
cinnati in the evening, passes Harper's Ferry in daylight, as
also the train leaving Chicago in the morning; while the train
leaving the latter-named city at five o'clock in the afternoon
reaches the Ferry early in the evening — and on moonlight
nights the sight is most impressive. The day train from
Pittsburgh passes in the early twilight, while those who are
willing to turn out of their sleeping-car berths betimes in the
morning will, if on the late evening train from Chicago, or the
evening train from St. Louis, and morning train from Cincin-
nati, behold a sunrise at Harper's Ferry never to be forgotten.
During the summer not a few old soldiers and others, im-
pelled by the recollections of the past, stop off a train, a day,
or more and spend the time rambling over the historic ground.
Up the Valley Division of the B. & O. but a short jaunt carries
one to the very scene of Sheridan's famous ride, the railroad
bridging Cedar Creek at about the identical spot where the
matchless hero, by the magic of his presence, converted rout
into victory. Then there is Winchester, Kernstown, New-
Market, Strasburg, Port Republic, Front Royal, Cross Keys
and almost a score of other points made memorable during
the days that tried men's souls. No line of road passes
through sections so historic, so replete with memories which
can never die. Time has extracted all the bitterness; fraternal
kindliness has taken the place of vengeful feeling, and arms
that once were raised against each other now couple in hearty
communion, and together the blue and the gray wander
over fields, once everything but the green which now mantles
soil and memory alike.
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jj.a^ROM a point on the main line just west
of Cumberland and almost within the
great gap which here, by a strange freak of na-
ture, severs the mountain chain, as if gigantic
power had cleaved with mighty ax, the Pitts-
burgh Division diverges and penetrates a countr)-
of wondrous picturescjue bcaut\-. And again a
section falls under the eye of the traveler, which
is replete with historic memories, not of the da)-s
of armed strife, within the personal remembrance
of so many now li\-ing, but of a hundred or more
years before. No less a personage than George Washington
himself suggested that portion of the line which follows Wills
Creek tlown to the Voughiogheny and thence westward, as
the best avenue for commerce ; and, singular to say, the termi-
nus, Pittsburgh, is the onl\- cit\- which the h'ather of his Coun-
try may be said to have founded, lie selected the "Forks of
the Ohio" as the proper site for a fort in the fall of 1753.
In April subsequently a series of skirmishes and engagements
began in which he was personally engaged, anil which inau-
gurated the great seven years' war, that raged in all quar-
ters of the globe. Tlu- iournal Washington kept ot his
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first journey to Fort Le Bceuf was reprinted in Europe as
being the best account of the theater of war in America.
His first battle took place at Fort Necessity, within a few
miles from Ohio Pyle, now a station on the B. & O. There
he had to surrender to the French, July 4, 1754. On his
defeat becoming known. Englantl made extensive prepara-
tions to regain the ground lost, and sent General Braddock
with an ami)-, who landed at Alexandria in the following
winter. Sir John Sinclair was his quartermaster general, and
his negotiations with Benjamin Franklin for transportation
very nearly ruined that great philosopher. It is not the
intention to follow the campaign in its details, but to refer
only to a single point as presenting a striking contrast
between then and now. Braddock, whom Washington
accompanied as a staff officer, with the rank of major,
took just sixty days to march from Cumberland to the
fatal field of his ambition ten miles from Pittsburgh.
Now the journey is made by rail in six hours. Dun-
bar's Camp, the depot of the ill-starred expedition, is
a prominent point among the mountain battlements
between Uniontown and Connellsville. Farther south
is Braddock's grave, an impressive spot, close to the
National road. These points mentioned in this, Wash-
ington's first campaign, were the scenes of his earliest
exploits as a soldier, and here he practically learned
the art of war. and laid the foundation for the career
which truly placed him first in the hearts of his
countrymen. The way lined by the Pittsburgh
Division, besides having been the battle ground
between I^>ance and PLngland a quarter of a cen-
38
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tury before the United States became known of the world,
was also the center of other conflicts no less momentous in
their consequences. A few miles up Wills Creek is crossed
by Mason and Dixon's Line, so familiar in political annals as
dividine the northern from the southern states. The line was
run in 1763-67 by the surveyors from which it derived its
name, and who were sent over from England to end a con-
troversy of fourscore years' duration. The western end was
not settled until years afterward, causing, meanwhile, another
controversy, this time between Virginia and Pennsylvania.
Well, indeed, might the great railway be termed "Historic
B. & O.," embracing, as it does, territory made memorable by
three wars, and so replete with reminiscences as to supply
the thoughtful with food for long and absorbing study!
Not many roads, rail or turnpike, equal the Pittsburgh
Division in the picturesque, and there are not a few of
genuine artistic cultivation who pronounce its course more
attractive in scenic grandeur than any other in the coun-
t:ry. The combination of water, rock and foliage is char-
acteristic of the entire route, and the effects at times are
simply indescribable. Following the Casselman to the
Youghiogheny, and the Youghiogheny to the Monongahela.
the road rarely leaves the water line, and as the mountains
close in and rise high on either hand the panorama is glorious
in the extreme. The track, based as it is almost literally upon
solid rock, is smooth and firm, and as the train flies around
the curves, and dashes in sharp competition to the surging
waters, the sense of safety is absolute and the enjoyment
perfect. Before long the Pittsburgh Division will play a
much more important part in the B. & O. system, as, with
the line completed from Connellsville to Wheeling, fully
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four hcHirs will be sa\ccl in the time to Chicago, and a new
and remarkably attractive section opened uj) to the \iew
from the rail. Pittsburgh, too, is going to profit greatl\- b\-
the im})ortant acquisitions in railroad facilities. Idle 1). i!\:
U. is already by sevent}- odd miles the shortest line thence to
Washington, and with the rapid pushing now characteristic
of the wa\' of tloing things at Pittsburgh, that city will
speedily become one of the most important centers of the
company's system. The control of the Pittsburgh & Western
having passed into the hands of the H. & ()., its lines, to-
gether with others similarly managed, give a new and ad-
vantaijeous route to Cleveland ; and the da\- is not far dis-
tant when the through trains of the B. & (). will not only run
from New York o\er its own line to Pittsburgh direct, but to
Cleveland as well, and not unlikel)- to Detroit. But a com-
paratively limited extent of additional construction w ill gi\e
the B. & O. an entirely new route from Pittsburgh direct to
Chicago, .striking the present line at Chicago Junction. The
purchase of the Pittsburgh Southern and the completion of
the change from narrow to standard gauge, accomplished
some time since, gives the B. & (). already a line from Pitts-
burgh via Wheeling to Chicago, while the earl}- com])letion
of the cut-off from Columbus to New Vienna, on the old
M. & C, now the C, W. & B.. means a new and superior
through line from I'ittsburgh to Cincinnati, Louis\ille and
Saint Louis. With a s)-stem embracing through trains from
Pittsburgh east to Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia and
New ^''ork, west to Columbus, Indianapolis and Chicago,
southwest to Cincinnati, Louisville and St. Louis, antl north-
west to Clevelaml and Detroit, "Old Smok\"will most em-
phatically become a B. & O. center.
42
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^^f^^ HAVING Wills Gap, iVoin which, as hitherto stated.
the Pittsburgh Division diverges in a northuesterl)-
direction, the main line continues almost due
west. The Potomac to tlic left, tin- Blue Ridge to
V T^c^-ts ^'^'-" '"'j^^^^ '^'^"^^ ^'^*-' Alleghanies in frf)nt. no matter
i^TSw^iNv where the eye may roam it must fall upon a
picture which cannot but stir the senses and
comi:)cl a response within one's heart of hearts.
Flu ri\ti-. broadened out. loses
[..AXN*
''^■'^^^jjfi some of its foam\- turbulence, but
the absence of white-crested cas-
cades and restless whirlpools is atoned for in the calm-sur-
faced pools and in the sheen of miniature lakes, which mirror
to entrancing perfection tree, bush, liillside and sk\-. Soon
tlic hills beyond the Potomac grow more sharp in height, ami
rocky masses loom up bold and rugged in their conformation.
To the left also the elevated ground gains new prominence, ami
the distant hills grow more distinct in their tree-padded forms.
The river, again feeling the restraint of the more closeh' skirt-
ing banks, frets and funus until cataracts ijive vent to its ant;r\'
'*''*' ebullitions. The effect is inspiriting, and as the well named
Palisades come w ithin \ iew. the behokler involuntaril\' con-
fesses that Picturesi|ue B. <S: ( ). is no misnomer. The abrupt
and age-worn rocks e.xpose their deepl)' scarred ftices full and
45
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clear, standint^ out in such bold rtlicfthat the pure and cr\-s-
tal-watercd stream catches e\er\- roui4h and jagged feature,
photographing the picturesque whole with a fidelit}- which
must make an artist drop his })encil in disma\- at the \X'ry
thought of comj:)etition. ( )\er the crest of the rock}- wall falls
luxuriant foliage, while here and there shrubs, with a hardi-
hood characteristic of their nature, not onl\- gain a hold, but
send forth their bright, green arms in the exultation of triumph.
Hut no persistent vegetation can sta\- the reach of the rocks to
the \"er\' waters, and the}' rise from the l-*r)tomac so clean and
clear that to lose footing on the summit would inevitabl}-
residt in a bath. Were it so that the ardent lover of nature
could take a seat upon the pilot of the locomotive, he would,
for the next hour, be transported to a \ery heaven of artistic
delight. Rather extravagant this ma\- sound, and the first
impulse ma}' be to set the expression down as to be expected
in a railroad descripti\e book, and therefore to be taken
accordingl}'. But ne\'ertheless in effect the statement is
meant as it is put ; for one may have done Europe thoroughh',
ha\e x'isited the most noted places, and returned to his native
land full}' impressed with the belief that there was nothing
left unseen, and still not haxe witnessed a \'iew to be com-
pared with that in question. To behold it is one thing; to
describe it, another. On the left, the Potomac winds its
circuitous wa}- in and about the pebbly banks of main land
and tin}' islands, which are fairl}- embowered in a luxuriance
of leaf}' growth that is doubled in effect b}' the sparkling
reflection of the waters. Rack of the ri\'er are l()ng, sweeping
hillsides, rising to a height which renders all the more im-
pressixe the mountain outlines farther awa\'. On the left is
the narrow strip of table land, losing itself in the gentle un- \^^^
dulation of the higlier j^round, and then tlie e\-e, still reaching
away, descries the clear, graceful form of the Blue Ridge,
most appropriately named, for nothing in color can exceed
the exquisite halo which surnKjunts tlie chain. Its effect
upon the senses is peculiarl\- imi)ressive, and the longer and
more fixed the gaze the stronger the influence, partaking
almost of sublimity. The blue is absolutely ethereal, and of
a loveliness of tone not to be found in any other mountain
section of the ci)ntinent. Finall\-, an.xious to fathom the full
and perfect beauty of the view in its entiret)', the eye reluc-
tantly forces itself from the fascination of the Blue Ridge,
and the vision is direct ahead. An instant, and the conviction
is realized that to attempt pen or pencil reproduction would
be a conceit that nature itself would most effectually elimi-
nate at the first stroke. Low and sinuousl\- billowy hills form
winsome footstools, as it were, to the chain of the Blue Ridge
intervening between the grand old Alleghanies themselves.
The gray haze over the one, the blue o\'er the other, and the
indescribable blending of the two over the final heights, form
an atmospheric influence actually absorbing.
As the way to the mountains is fleetl\- follow ed the dual
ranges gain in majestic proportions, the Blue Ridge gradually
disclosing its lower series of summits b\- the strong contrasts
u ith the o\ertopping Alleghanies. The little town of Ke)'-
ser, the western terminus of the second dixision. lies level
upon something of a plateau, which extends to the foot of the
rock)^ gatewa}-, and there, nestled within the shadow of the
precipitous heights, is the most appropriatel}' named bus\-
center. Piedmont. Seventeen miles up the sicies of the moun-
tains is Altamont. For a short distance the steel-clad path is
b\' the stony banks of the Potomac, now converted into a tem-
48
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pestuous flood, which boils and seethes with a pent-up fury it
strives seemingly in vain to vent upon the enormous boulders,
which year by year \Meld little by little to the incessant warfare.
If not, in the one particular of wild grandeur, equal to the
Rockies, the Alleghanies are more picturesque, presenting,
as they do, greater contrasts of nature in leaf}" beauty and
in shades of color, both of rock and foliage.
The writer ma\- be termed an enthusiast, and when it
comes to the Valley of the Potomac, the l^lue Ridge and
the Alleghanies, he is. Year after year, time and again
has the line of the B. & C). been traversed, and the result
may fairly be said to reach volumes of publication. Yet the
subject is hardly commenced upon when one, under the full in-
spiration of the journey, realizes how weak and unsatisfactory
have been the efforts to draw with pencil where so man}- have
failed with the brush. As a matter of course there are many
men of business, gruff, trade-bound and trade-ridden, who will
impatiently declare this all the veriest of rubbish, that non-
sense which is ever deemed the most emphatically condemned
by a prefix which will not be mentioned here. Possibly it is,
but perchance the same sort of excuse may be made for it as
for other forms of nonsense, which is said now and then to
be relished by the best of men. A keen and whole-souled
enthusiasm for nature in her lo\'eliest garb — unadorned that
she ma\' be most adorned — may not pile up many silver, gold
or even paper dollars, but it feeds another attribute of human
existence which is manifcstl}- none the wairse for it. So the
merchant, the professional man or the manufacturer, who, in a
trip over the P. & O., forgets his daily self, loses for the
otherwise unoccupied hours all thoughts of business, has
rested the sense of self preservation from one view of life,
50
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and in giving the sentimental, if it may be the pleasure so to
term it, full play, the healthfulness of the change cannot be
questioned.
Running through the Glades at an elevation of nearl}' three
thousand feet above the sea, the physical man experiences a
recuperation as delightful as it may be unexpected. It is the
exceeding clearness and purity of the highly rarefied atmos-
phere, and every expansion of the lungs fills them with a
power invigorating and most healthful. Crowning the Glades
with a beauty that for once at least does not outrage the sur-
roundings, is the B. (& O. Company's noted summer resort,
Deer Park. During the warmer months of the }'ear the spa-
cious buildings are thronged with the elite of Washington,
Baltimore and Philadelphia, Pittsburgh and Cincinnati, as well
as with prominent representatives of Chicago and St. Louis.
Deer Park is a lovely spot, and contrar\-, possibly, to the
average run of summer resorts, the realization of a sojourn
there is in every way in keeping with the anticipation natu-
rally the result of first sight.
Speeding over the Glades, the train is soon back in the
heart of the mountains again. The summit of Cranberry Grade
opens up to the view a matchless panorama, combining lofty
peaks, wavy lines of cloud-capped crests and bewitching
glimpses of valley, which, in an\' direction, appear almost
without end. Down the grade, and a quick turn discloses the
picturesque village of Rowlesburg, on the banks of Cheat River.
Then the climb up Cheat River grade, with its varying and
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Y/' constantly more impressix'e realization of mountain grandeur.
At Buckhorn Wall it culminates in one of the most glorious of
\-ie\vs. Mountain top verily, }'et peaks rising still higher, and
peak after peak in the distance, which appear to hide their
hoar\- heads in the clouds themselves. Straight down, a thou-
sand feet or more, is the glistening ribbon marking where the
waters of the Cheat beat their tumultuous wa)' through gorge
and canon. Buckhorn Wall, so named from the shape \\hich
suggests it, is a mighty piece of engineering and masonry, and
its even face forms strong contrast with the unhewn masses
on either side. At the eastern extremity a cataract goes
plunging down, forming a royal bit of the picturesque, while
striking is the effect of the beautiful little garden on the
very verge of the precipice. In fact the whole journey
is replete with most pleasant sur}jrises, and the da)' is gone
almost before one realizes it is past noon time. At Grafton
divisions and branches diverge, that to the Southwest extend-
ing to Parkersburg, Cincinnati, Louis\ille and St. Louis, while
that to the West and Northwest crosses the Ohio at Wheeling
and runs direct to Columbus and Chicago. Of the trains, time
and other information so necessar\- to a full understanding,
the attractive folders and advertising matter generall}- which
is issued by the B. & O. tells in full and practical detail. The
energetic and attenti\'e agents of the company are to be met
with almost e\'ervwhere, and in all the leading cities are offices
in which politeness and studious courtes}' are the governing
principles. No matter where the traveler desires to go,
whether over the B. & O. or any other line, inquiry at the
B. & O. offices will always result in a thorough understanding
of the situation, and careful guidance as to the proper avenues
by which to reach destination.
54
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