The Landscape of Harpers Ferry

THE LANDSCAPE.
E’en here, at home, what scenes arrest the view!
Scenese full of int’rest and of beauty too.

We have thought that a brief sketch of the spot selected for the culture of “THE GARLAND,” might interest some of our distant readers, who have not had an opportunity of examining the chaotic mass which is here deposited. Such a sketch we here attempt ; but, unqualified as we are to do justice to scenery which deserves all the powers of poetic inspiration, and the best delineations of a magic pencil, it must not be expected that we shall do more than glance at the numberless beauties which surround us.

The village in which it has been our lot to be located, as an humble citizen, is not entirely unknown in character to those abroad. It owes its celebrity to something more than the rugged hills which encircle it, or the proud streams that lave their banks along its outskirts. It is the site selected by the penetrating eye of Columbia’s first and dearest chieftain, as being suited, by its security and seclusion, to the manufacture of arms ; that we might “in peace prepare for war.” Even in this point of view the spot is consecrated in the bosom of every citizen– for whatever is associated with the name of WASHINGTON, in impressed in eternal remembrance upon the tablet of the heart. This, too, is the valley, and these the hills, which attracted the attention of the sage of Monticello, even amidst the sober researches of philosophy, and a view of which he styled “worth a voyage across the Atlantic.”

The town is situated in the north-east section of Jefferson county, Virginia, in latitude thirty-nine degrees twenty minutes north, and two degrees forty minutes west of Philadelphia. On the south-east is ranged a portion of the Blue Ridge, at the base of which the Shenandoah river winds its devious way. The north-east is skirted by another range of this stupdendous mountain, at the foot of which the boisterous Potomac is seen, engulphing the feebler waves of the Shenandoah, and seeking, through the chasm in the ridge, over rocks and falls, a vent eastwardly to the Ocean. The peculiar situation of the crags and protruding precipices, has favored the theory, that this vacuity was produced by some terrible convulsion of nature, which gave an outlet to the vast lake whose waters once over-spread the fertile valley of Virginia. To the west, stretching from one river to the other, is a hill of considerable altitude, characterised by gentle declivities and precipitous steeps. On the narrow strips of land which intervene in angular form, on the margin of each stream, are the Armory buildings, and the habitations of those engaged in the manufactory, and of others, whose avocations are in the some degree identified therewith.

The whole presents a most interesting aspect, and cannot fail to excite, in a susceptible bosom, emotions of reverence and awe. Here, truly, doth man feel his impotence, and here are impressed the wonders of an Almighty hand. Wherever you turn, the eye is feasted with the sublimity of the scene. That heart must be as adamantine as the granite of the cliffs, which is not softened into a feeling of adoration at the contemplation of objects so magnificent, and so far above the feeble monuments of human pride.

The approaches to this place, particularly from the east, are marked by a ruggedness that gives the visitor an early image of the picturesque sport of his destination, environed with “rocks inaccessible, and summits that tire the eagle’s wings.” The road for three miles on each side of the Potomac, is traced along the craggy sides of the mountains, where the massy rocks are overhung, and the river is foaming and roaring at their base, as if conscious of a power that has severed the ponderous ridge in twain.– During the journey, in the season when the waters flow in profusion, the eye is occasionally arrested from the rustic objects of its admiration, to witness the rapid descent of heavily freighted boats, plied by the cheerful boatmen, bearing to the ocean the surplus products of an exuberant soil. The mind is involuntarily withdrawn, for awhile, from its musings on natural grandeur, to an estimate of the benents which an improved state of the navigation would yield, as well as to those who inhabit the marts of commerce, as to the adventurous mariners who brave the rigors of the winds and the waves. The notaries of science, either in geology or botany, may occupy themselves in an examination of the substances which around in their way, or of the plants which adorn with their beauty and charm with their fragrance the brows of the hills. In coming from the west, the prominent objects of attraction, altho’ not so rude and numerous as those which appear from the east, are such as are calculated to produce thoughts that bewilder while they exalt the mind. — The traveller is not aware of being situated on an emmence of more than a hundred feet above the river, until he approaches within sight of its impetuous ripples and within the sound of its hoarse murmurings. He then beholds the cleft mountains, and the course of the rapid stream, but cannot yet discover the tenements of fifteen hundred inhabitants encompassed in the glen; nor can his fancy suggest to him any outlet from this romantic and wild abode, until he descends into the very bosom of the village. Here he again finds his attention diverted from the scenery, picturesque and beautiful as it is, to a contemplation of the surprising efforts of human ingenuity, where labor is simplified and expedited by the use of machinery. Here, too, the man of science, in another branch, may indulge his reflections, and see a fine illustration of the laws of motion, variously and usefully applied.

The views which make the deepest impression, and which, in truth, sublimate the mind, are those presented from the summits of the ridges on either side which rear their lofty peaks towards the clouds. Here the eye can stretch over and survey the apparently boundless landscape, and the heart ruminate upon heavenly benificence and majesty, and upon the ceaseless enterprise of the creature man. The soul is imperceptibly lifted from earth, and, for a moment, forgets the strifes, the turmoils, the petty passions, and the griefs, which agitate and disturb the inmates of the vale beneath. It is led to wonder how the fragrant zephyr, teeming with the sweets of variegated foliage which the genial sun and showers of spring have nurtured, can be tainted by the breath of discord and contention. *

But it is not in the season of flowers only that the splendour of the mountain scenery is calculated to impart delight. Even when the withering winds and sickly sun of autumn have blasted and seared the leaves, and caused them to relinquish their filial hold on the parent stems, strewing the earth with the faded emblems of a verdure that once enraptured the sight, the scene is far from being destitute of interest. Nor do the desolating blasts and piercing frosts of winter obliterate from the fancy the images of grandeur so indelibly impressed. Altho’ the huge rocks are divested of their summer friends, save only the ivy, which still clings to them with a devotional fondness– the sturdy and towering oaks stripped of their transient ornaments– and the wild flowers robbed of their fragile petals by the rigors of the season– yet still there are charms which no changes can efface. The alternate gaicty and gloom which prevail, serve but to show more forcibly the influence of that power which
“Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees.”

Through all the mutations of time, the attractions are innumerable ; but there are periods when peculiar beauties are developed. The difference in the temperature of the heights and the valley is often a matter of observation. No spectacle can be more grand than that afforded after a shower of sleet in the winter, when brilliant icicles are suspended from the pendent boughs, and the projecting rocks seem plated with silver ; the whole glittering and changing in the sun-beams, presenting all the various hues which delight the vision, the tints deepening or lessening according to the color of the plant, shrub, or object, thus decorated. When the sight is first directed to the brightness of the hills, so proudly bedecked, the beholder loses, for an instant, the remembrance of winter, and fancies that he sees the whole landscape robed in the gay drapery of spring. But description is vain. Naught but an actual participation in the pleasures of the scene can convey an image of its magnificence.

The hill to the west, which interposes its comparatively diminutive head, as if, by contrast, to show the superiority of its gigantic neighbors, is another spot suited to the employment of the contemplative mind. It is on this mount that the celebrated rock is poised, which attracted the observation of MR. JEFFERSON, and which now bears his name. A large piece of it was tumbled from its curious resting place, by the direction of a person who had suffered the turbulence of party spirit to rage in his bosom and excite a hostility to the sage whose title has been given to it. The remnant is still a subject of inquiry and examination by every visitor, and is marked by the carvings of those who ascend to view it, each one anxious to associate his name with that of the philosopher. This massy rock, which sists loosely upon its kindred substance, seems, from its position, to menace destruction to everything beneath. But years have rolled by, and surrounding objects, animate and inanimate, have crumbled to the dust, yet this still reigns, in proud majesty, the monarch of the scene.

On the romantic summit of this hill, too, shaded by a grove of pines, and encircled by the brier and the wild-rose, rest the remains of those once dear to friendship, society, and love– the tender parents, whose watchful vigilance had guarded their infant pledges– the devoted husband and wife, whose constant delight it was to dispense happiness around and within the precincts of their peaceful dwelling– the fond brother and sister, whose affections were centered in their relatives, and whose opening virtues gave early hopes of future usefulness– and the lovely babe, whose cherub smile had oft dispelled the sorrows which clustered around and sought entrance at the paternal threshold.

Here, in the evening, divested of every feeling but those which fit the mind for the exercise of gratitude and devotion, the secluded and pensive wanderer may commune with his sorrows ; heave a sigh over the grave of his affections ; and shed a tear into departed worth. Here may the admirer of Nature feast his soul upon the glories of creation ; he can gaze upon the starry firmament “shining to the maker’s praise;” — upon the bright-orbed “queen of the night,” rolling in cloudless majesty through the heavens, or upon the united waters, silvered by her orient beams, rushing beneath the cliffs, and pursuing, through the vista, their resistless journey to the “vasty deep.”

Such is the place for meditation, and such the moments to cherish the feelings which are inspired.

“Then is the time,
For those whom wisdom and whom nature charm,
To steal themselves from the degenerate crowd,
And sour above this little scene of things;
To tread low-thoughted vice beneath their feet ;
To soothe the throbbing passions into peace,
And woo lone Quiet in her silent walks.”

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*We only allude here to those collisions which conflicting interests arouse in every community.– This has but its share. Perhaps if it were our business to note the characteristic traits of the inhabitants, we should do no more than justice to rate among them a disposition to sociality and harmonious intercourse.