NATURAL BRIDE, VIRGINIA... From a 1839 Steel Engraving

 
NATURAL BRIDE, VIRGINIA

Reproduced from a 5" x 7½" Steel Engraving

from a Drawing by W.H. Bartlett

Natural Bridge , is Print # 31 of 53 from Volume II "AMERICAN SCENERY"

or LAND, LAKE, AND RIVER Published in 1839 by George Virtue,

26 Ivy Lane, London

THE NATURAL BRIDGE, VIRGINIA

       The description of Jefferson first attracted the attention of travellers to this remarkable spot, unequalled probably in the world. Of recent descriptions the best is that by Miss Martineau, which is so characteristic and interesting, that we can add nothing to it.

" At a mile from the bridge, the road turns off through a wood. While the stage rolled and jolted along the extremely bad road, Mr. L and I went prying about the whole area of the wood, poking our horses' noses into every thicket, and between any two pieces of rock, that we might be sure not to miss our object; the driver smiling after us, whenever he could spare attention from his own not very easy task, of getting his charge along. With all my attention, I could see no precipice, and was concluding to follow the road without any more vagaries, when Mr. L, who was a little in advance, waived his whip, as he stood beside his horse, and said, `Here is the bridge!' I then perceived that we were nearly over it, the piled rocks on either hand forming, a barrier, which prevents a careless eye from perceiving the ravine which it spans.  I turned to the side of the road, and rose in my stirrup to look over; but I found it would not do. I went on to the inn, deposited my horse and returned on foot to the bridge.

" With all my efforts, I could not look down steadily into what seemed the bottom­less abyss, of foliage and shadow. From every point of the bridge I tried, and all in vain. I was heated and extremely hungry, and much vexed at my own weakness. The only way was to go down and look up; though where the bottom could be, was past my; imagining, the view from the top seeming to be of foliage below foliage for ever.

"The way to the glen is through a field opposite the inn, and down a steep, rough, rocky path, which leads under the bridge, and a few yards beyond it. I think the finest view of all is from this path, just before reaching the bridge.  The irregular arch of rock, spanning a chasm of one hundred and sixty feet in height, and from sixty to ninety in width, is exquisitely tinted with every shade of grey and brown; while trees encroach from the sides, and overhang from the top; between which and the arch there is an additional depth of fifty-six feet. It was now early in July; the trees were in their brightest and thickest foliage ; and the tall beeches under the arch contrasted their verdure with the grey rock, and received the gilding of the sunshine, as it slanted into the ravine, glittering in the drip from the arch, and in the splashing and tumbling waters of Cedar Creek, which ran by our feet.  Swallows were flying about under the arch. What others of their tribe can boast, of such a home?

" We crossed and re-crossed the creek on stepping-stones, searching out every spot to which any tradition belonged. Under the arch, thirty feet from the water, the lower part of the letters G. W. may be seen, carved in the rock. When Washington was a young man, he climbed up hither, to leave this record of his visit. There are other inscriptions, of the same kind; and above them a board, on which are painted the names of two persons, who have thought it worth while thus to immortalize their feat of climbing highest. But their glory was but transient, after all. They have been outstripped by a traveller, whose achievement will probably never be rivalled; for he would not have accomplished it, if he could by any means have declined the task. Never was a wonderful deed more involuntarily performed.                There is no dis­paragement to the gentleman in saying this: it is only absolving him from the charge of foolhardiness.

" This young man, named Blacklock, accompanied by two friends, visited the Natural Bridge; and, being seized with the ambition appropriate to the place, of writing his name highest, climbed the rock opposite to the part selected by Washing­ton, and carved his initials. Others have perhaps seen what Mr. Blacklock had over­looked-that it was a place easy to ascend, but from which it is impossible to come down. He was forty feet or more from the path; his footing was precarious; he was weary with holding on, while carving his name, and his head began to swim when he saw the impossibility of getting down again. He called to his companions that his only chance was to climb up upon the bridge, without hesitation or delay. They saw this, and with anguish agreed between themselves that the chance was a very bare one. They cheered him, and advised him to look neither up nor down. On he went, slanting upwards from under the arch, creeping round a projection, on which no foothold is visible from below, and then disappearing in a recess filled up with foliage, Long and long they waited, watching for motion, and listening for crashing among the trees. He must have been now one hundred and fifty feet above them.  At length their eyes were so strained that they could see no more; and they had almost lost all hope.  There was little doubt that he had fallen while behind the trees, where his body would never be found. They went up to try the chance of looking for him from above. They found him lying insensible on the bridge. He could just remember reaching the top, when he immediately fainted. One would like to know whether the accident left him a coward, in respect of climbing, or whether it strengthened his confidence in his nerves."

NOTE:  This is a exact copy of the original 1839 text describing the above Print, from "AMERICAN SCENERY"

Volume II, Page 59, published by George Virtue, 26 Ivy Lane, London