which receives its name from the fancied resem-basedrum, whence the room has received the blance of a prostrate stalactite at the base of one name of the Drum Room. Upon a closer exami that is upright, to old Commodore Barney, and nation, this apparent wall will be found to be only the cannon that he used at the Bladensburgh a thin stalactitic partition, extending from the races. Near the centre of the room, which is ceiling to the floor. There is nothing else of small, and scarcely deserves the name, an upright much interest in this apartment-we will proceed board points out to the visiter the main path of to the more magnificent portions of the cavern. the cave, which runs to the right. Two passages You leave the drum room by a flight of natural run off to the left; the first one to a large irregu- stairs, seven feet in perpendicular height. A large lar room, called the Lawyer's Office, in which is opening now presents itself, which expands to a fine spring of water, or rather a reservoir where an extensive apartment, to reach which it is nethe droppings from the ceiling have collected; cessary to make a nearly perpendicular descent of the other, through a passage to what is called ten feet, by means of a substantial pair of stairs. The Armory, from an incrustation that has re- This apartment is the far-famed Ball Room. It is ceived the name of Ajax's Shield. one hundred feet long, thirty-six wide, and about twenty-five high, running at right angles to the path by which you entered it. The general course of the room is from north to south, but at the northern extremity there is a gradual ascent, bearing round to the east, until you reach a precipice of twenty or thirty feet, from which you can look down into the Tan-yard, having performed a complete circuit.

Between the Lawyer's Office and the Armory, and communicating with both, is another large, irregular apartment, which is named Weyer's Hall, after the original discoverer of the cave, who, together with his dog, stands immortalized in one corner. Before we get bewildered and lost in this part of the cave, which is more intricate than any other, let us return to the guide-board in the centre of Barney's hall, and pursue the route usually taken by visiters.

Following the righthand opening, mentioned above, which is rather low, being not more than five feet in height, you pass into the Twin Room, taking heed lest you fall into the Devil's Rake Oven, which yawns close by your feet. This room is small, and communicates directly with the Bannister Room, which is fifty-nine feet distant from the guide-board. The arch here suddenly expands, and becomes elevated to the height of thirty feet, and by dint of hard climbing you may return to the Porter's Lodge, through a passage directly over the one which you have just passed. Although there are many beauties in this upper passage, I would advise no one who is not an enthusiastic admirer of nature's works, to attempt it.

Near the centre of the ball room, is a large calcareous deposite, that has received the name of Paganini's Statue, from the circumstance that it furnishes a good position for the music, whenever balls are given in these submundane regions. The floor is sufficiently level to admit of dancing upon it, and it is not uncommon to have balls here. The ladies are accommodated with a very convenient Dressing Room, the only opening to which communicates directly with the ball room. You leave this room by a gradual ascent of fortytwo feet, at the southern extremity, similar to the one already described at the other.

This acclivity is called The Frenchman's Hill, from the following circumstance: some years since, a French gentleman visited this cave, accompanied only by the guide; they had safely gone through, and returning, had reached the top A descent of thirty-nine feet from the Twin of this hill, when by some accident, both of their room, in a direction due west, brings you into the lights were extinguished, and they were left in Tan Yard, which contains many beauties. The Egyptian darkness, without the means of relighting floor is irregular, in some places sinking into their candles. Fortunately, the guide, from his holes somewhat resembling tan-vats, which to-accurate knowledge of localities, was enabled to gether with several hanging stalactites resembling hides have given a name to this immense apartment. On the southeast side of the room, immediately to the left of the main path, is a large opening, which admits you at once into the armory already mentioned.

It may be well to remark here, that I have omitted, and shall omit to mention, many beautiful appearances in the different rooms, because they are noted upon the map of the cave, lately published by the author of this sketch.

conduct him safely to the entrance, a distance of more than five hundred feet.

Another gentleman, by the name of Patterson, has immortalized his name by attempting the same feat, although it was a complete failure. Hearing of the Frenchman's adventure, he undertook to find his way back to the entrance from the ball room, without a light; sending his company some distance ahead. He succeeded in ascending the stairs, but had proceeded only a few paces farther, when his feet slipped from under Changing your course to the northwest, you him, and he was prostrated into an aperture where leave the Tan-yard, by a rough but not difficult he lay unhurt, until his companions, alarmed at ascent of twenty feet, at an angle of eighteen de- his protracted absence, returned for him. His restgrees, into what may be considered as an eleva-ing-place is called Patterson's Grave to this day. ted continuation of the same room, but which has From the French Hill, a long, irregular passage been deservedly dignified with a distinct appella- extends in a northwest direction, which is detion. To your right, as you step upon level nominated the Narrow Passage. This passage is ground, you will observe a perpendicular wall of fifty-two feet in length, varying from three to five rock rising with great regularity; if you strike feet in width, and from four to eight feet in upon it with your hand, it sends forth a deep, height. It leads you to the brink of a precipice, mellow sound, strongly resembling the tones of al twelve feet in height.

Natural indentations in the face of this precipice afford a convenient means of descent; and these natural steps have received the name of Jacob's Ladder. To correspond with this name, as in Solomon's Temple, everything is named after the patriarch: a flat rock opposite to the extremity of the Narrow passage, is Jacob's TeaTable; and a deep, inaccessible perforation in the rock, by its side, is Jacob's Ice-house. Descending the ladder, you turn to the left, and pass through a narrow opening, still continuing to descend though less perpendicularly, to the centre of a small apartment, called the Dungeon. The descent from the top of the ladder to this place is twenty-eight feet.

floor was not level, but inclined at an angle of fifteen or twenty degrees, and when we emerged from the pit into which we had first entered, our candles again shone brightly, and displayed to our view a room more extensive than any I have yet described. Its greatest length was from east to west, and seemed to run nearly parallel to the path over which we have just travelled. From its great length, I was induced to believe that it approached very near to the Ball room, and perhaps might communicate with it by some yet undiscovered passage. So strongly was I impressed with this idea, that I determined to ascertain, if practicable, how far I was correct. For this purpose, I set my watch exactly with my brothThis room communicates by a passage of about er's, and requested him to go to the Ball room, four feet square, with the Senate Chamber. A and to pursue, as far as possible, a low passage thin flat rock stretches over nearly half of this that leads to the right from the foot of the French apartment, which is only about forty feet in di- Hill, while I went to the eastern extremity of this ameter, at the height of eight or ten feet from immense apartment. At an appointed moment, I the floor, forming a sort of gallery, which doubt- fired a pistol, but the only answer was, the deafless caused the name already mentioned to be ening reverberations of the sound, rolling like given to the room. The Senate chamber com- thunder along the lofty arches. I shouted-but municates by a high broad opening, with a still no return met my ear, save the hollow echo of larger apartment, denominated Congress Hall. my own voice, and I began to think that I had This name must have been given on account of been hasty in my opinion. At this moment, a its proximity to the last-mentioned room, and not beautiful stalactite sparkled in the light of my from anything particularly appropriate in the candle, and I forgot my desire to find some unroom itself. It is long, and like the ball room, known passage in my anxiety to secure this prize. runs nearly at right angles to the main path; its Taking the butt of my pistol I hammered gently course being nearly north and south, and a wall, upon it to disengage it from the rock where it having several openings, runs through its whole hung, I was surprised to hear the taps distinctly length. The main path winds to the left as you answered, apparently from the centre of the solid enter the room; but we will diverge a little to rock. A repetition of the blows brought a repethe right, and explore the dark recess that pre-tition of the answer, and by comparing notes, we sents itself to view.

The floor of Congress hall is very uneven, and at the northern extremity rises somewhat abruptly. Climbing this ascent, if you pass through one of the openings in the wall mentioned above, you will be able to see through the whole extent of the other half of the room, but it is impossible to traverse it, on account of two or three deep pits, that occupy the whole space between the wall and the side of the room. Turning around to the right of the opening through which you passed, your eye vainly attempts to penetrate the deep, hesitate dark abyss that presents itself, and to descend. Its name, the Infernal Regions, does not offer many inducements to enter it; and for many years it has been supposed to contain fixed air, so that visiters avoid it, and it has never until recently, been thoroughly explored.

you

In the spring of 1833, accompanied by my brother, I determined at all hazards to explore this room, for I doubted the existence of any bad air, as I had never detected any in the course of extensive researches in almost every part of the cave. The guide accompanied us, and we each carried two candles, leaving a lighted one also at the end of Congress hall. Thus prepared, we descended about twenty-nine feet before we reached a landing-place. Here our candles burned dimly, and great care was necessary to prevent them from going out entirely; indeed four of them were out at one time, yet we experienced no difficulty of breathing, or any other indication of the presence of this much dreaded gas. The

were fully satisfied that there could be but little space between the two rooms.

We have lingered so long in these Infernal regions that we must hasten back to the spot whence we diverged, in the centre of Congress hall. Our course now lies to the southwest, up a perpendicular ascent of seventeen feet, to what is called the Lobby. From this place, an expert climber, well acquainted with the cave, may pass through secret passages and by-rooms to the end of the cave, without once entering the main path; but we will pursue the accustomed route.

You have ascended to the Lobby, only to descend again on the other side, after taking a few steps horizontally, a perpendicular descent of seventeen feet brings you to the most magnificent This is Washapartment in the whole cavern. ington's Hall; so called in token of respect for the memory of our country's father, and it is worthy of bearing the name. Its length is two hundred and fifty-seven feet, its breadth from ten to twenty feet, and its height about thirty-three feet, being remarkably level and straight through the whole length.

Not far from the centre of this room, is an immense deposite of calcareous matter rising to the height of six or seven feet, which very strikingly resembles a statue clothed in drapery. This is Washington's Statue, and few can look upon it, as seen by the dim light of two or three candles, which rather stimulate than repress curiosity, without experiencing a sensation of awe and solemnity, as if they were actually in the presence

of the mighty dead. A few yards from the en- At the farthest extremity, a beautiful white trance, another room branches off to the left, to spire shoots up to a considerable height, which is reach which, you must ascend a bank of five or appropriately styled the Steeple, and has, no six feet in height. This is called the Theatre, doubt, suggested the name of the room. Nearly from the fact that different parts of the room cor- opposite to the centre of the church is a recess, respond to the gallery, stage, and pit. I notice raised several feet, of considerable extent. This this room, which is rather uninteresting otherwise, forms a very good Gallery to the church. Imfor the purpose of mentioning a circumstance re-mediately in the rear of the gallery, and in full lated to me by Mr. Bryan, a former guide, which view from below, is a great number of pendant confirms an opinion that I have long entertained, stalactites, of several feet in length, and of varithat the whole cavern is thoroughly ventilated by ous sizes, ranged like the pipes of an organ, and some undiscovered communication with the up-bearing a striking resemblance to them. If these per air. stalactites are struck by any hard substance, they send forth sounds of various pitches, according to their size, and a stick run rapidly along several of them at once, produces a very pleasing variety of sounds. With great propriety this is called the Organ.

About nine years since, during a severe and protracted rain, which raised the waters of the South river that flows at the base of the cave-hill, to an unprecedented height, Mr. Bryan conducted a company through the cave. As he ascended the stairs that lead from Congress hall to the Passing under the steeple, which rests on an Lobby, he heard the rush of waters; supposing arch elevated not more than ten feet, you enter that the cave was flooding, he directed the visit- the Dining Room. This room is named from a ers to remain in Congress hall, while he examined long, natural table, that stands on the left side, more carefully into the cause of the unusual and and is not quite as large as the church, though its alarming noise. Cautiously descending into height is sixty feet. Was it not for the kind of Washington's Hall, he followed the sound, until wall which the steeple makes, it might be considhe arrived opposite to the entrance of the Thea- ered as a continuation of the church, and its tre, in which he saw a column of water, pouring length is therefore included in that of the church. down from the ceiling into the Pit, and losing it- A little to the left of the table you will observe a self in the numerous crevices that abound. When small, uninviting opening; if you are not deterthe rain ceased, the flood was stayed, and it never red by the unpromising appearance of the opening has been repeated; but even at the present time, we will enter, and see whether it leads to anysmall pebbles and gravel, resembling that found thing worthy of notice. Proceeding only a few on the top of the hill, may be seen in the theatre. paces, you suddenly find yourself in an immense No aperture is visible where the water could have chamber, stretching from the gallery of the church come through so copiously, neither can any per- with which it communicates, parallel to the dining foration be discovered on the surface of the hill; room, to its utmost extremity, and proportionably yet beyond a doubt some communication does wide. This is called Jackson's Room, and the exist. I have said that the breadth of Washing-floor is very irregular and uneven. This room is ton's hall was from ten to twenty feet; this must be rather uninteresting, but it leads to one that deunderstood only of the lower part of the room, serves a passing notice. for the arch stretches over a rock twenty feet Directly opposite the little passage which conhigh, which forms the left wall, and embraces an- ducted you hither, is a large opening; passing this other room called Lady Washington's Hall. The the rocks contract until only a narrow pass is left entrance to this apartment is opposite to the a few feet in length. This conducts you, if not Statue, and is on the same level with the Hall. to the most magnificent, at least to the most beauThe wall that separates the two rooms is several tiful and interesting portion of the whole cavern. feet thick, and has received the name of the There is but one apartment, and that is small, Rock of Gibraltar. One or two candles placed but the Garden of Eden, for so it is called, deupon this rock produce a fine effect, particularly rives its beauty from the singular arrangement of if every other light is extinguished; for it shows the immense stalactites hanging from the roof, you the arch, spreading out with beautiful regularity, until it is lost in the surroundng darkness, and imagination supplies the deficiency of vision, peopling the dark recesses with hosts of matterless phantoms.

You reluctantly leave this splendid apartment at the southwest extremity, by a rough, narrow, but high passage, running at the foot of the Pyramids of Egypt and Cleopatra's Needle! At the end of this passage, in a recess at the right is another spring or reservoir, not as large as the one in the Lawyer's office. A descent of eight or ten feet, brings you into the Diamond Room, which may be considered as forming a part of The Church, a long, irregular room, more lofty than any that we have yet entered. Its length is one hundred and fifty-two feet, its breadth from ten to fifteen, and its height fifty!

and meeting the stalagmites, which have ascended from the floor to meet them; or in few words, it seems as if, at some former period, a sheet of water had poured down from the roof, and by some wonderful operation of nature, had become suddenly petrified. This sheet is not continuous, but strongly resembles the folds of heavy drapery, and you may pass among the windings as through the mazes of a labyrinth, and the light of a candle shines distinctly through any part of it. A portion of the floor of this room is composed of a beautiful fine yellow sand, whereas most of the cave is a stiff clay, with very few indications of sand.

We must now retrace our steps to the dining room, for there is no other place of egress; but let us first turn off to the left, as we return, into a small passage, that does not seem to lead very far. Be careful! there is a deep hole just before

you. Now look through this opening, which is large enough for a man comfortably to pass through, holding your candle above your head; you will see a deep unexplored abyss,

"Where the footstep of mortal has never trod."

this room, we must diverge a little, and visit one or two rooms that branch off from the main path. Directly to your right, as you emerge from the wilderness, there rises an immense mass, apparently of solid stalagmite, thirty-six feet in length, No man has ever yet ventured into this place, for thirty feet in breadth, and thirty feet in height; it can only be entered by means of a rope-ladder, this mass is beautiful beyond description, very but if my life is spared, and my courage does not much resembling successive stories, and is called fail me, I shall, at no distant period, attempt to the Tower of Babel! The most splendid portion explore the hidden mysteries of the apartment. of the tower is on the back, but it is difficult of Once more in the dining room let us go on to access, for it is necessary to climb up the surface the completion of our task. The main path pur- of the rock to the height of fifteen or twenty feet; sues the same course from this room as it has the view, however, amply repays you for the ladone ever since you entered Washington's hall; bor. For a few moments you can scarcely conbut your way now lies up a sort of hill, in the vince yourself that an immense body of water is side of which is the opening through which you not pouring over the precipice in a foaming catare to pass. If you are adventurous, you will fol- aract, so white, so dazzling is the effulgence of low me above the opening, up the nearly perpen- the rock; and when this impression is effaced, dicular face of the rock, to the height of fifty feet, the words of the pious bard rush into the mind, where a ledge of rocks stretches along, and forms where he describes the awful effects that will folthe left side of the dining room. From this emi-low the consummation of all things ;nence, called the Giant's Causeway, you can look down into the dining room on one side, and Jackson's room on the other. Great caution is necessary in climbing this height, lest too much confidence be reposed in the projecting stalagmites, One might almost imagine that Pollok had visitthat seemingly offer a secure foothold to the in-ed this wonder, and caught the idea so forcibly cautious adventurer, but frequently give way be- expressed above, from viewing this magnificent neath him. It must be remembered that they are formed by droppings from the roof, and are often based only in the mud. By cautiously descending the ledge for five or six feet, on the side opposite to that which we ascended, we shall be enabled to reach with ease the room which has already been attained by the rest of the company who have been less ambitious than ourselves, and passed through the little opening already pointed out in ascending the causeway.

scene.

"The cataract, that like a giant wroth,
Rushed down impetuously, as seized at once
By sudden frost, with all his hoary locks,
Stood still!"

We have already so much exceeded our intended limits, that we can only look into the large apartment that occupies the space behind the tower, which is called Sir Walter Scott's Room, and then hasten back to the main path.

Jefferson's room, that we left some time since, is very irregular in shape, and is two hundred and thirty-five feet long, following the various windings. What is commonly called the end of the cave, is distinguished by two singular, thin, lamellar rocks, five or six feet in diameter, united at their bases, but spreading out so that the outer edges are several feet apart; this is called the Fly Trap. To the left of the Fly trap is a large recess, where is a fine spring, at which the weary visiter is glad to slake his thirst, after the fatigues of his arduous undertaking.

This room, or perhaps it should be called passage, is denominated the Wilderness, from the roughness of the pathway, aud is only ten feet wide, but it rises to the immense height of ninety or one hundred feet! As we come along the causeway, and look down upon our right, we shall see our company forty or fifty feet below us, while our eyes can scarcely penetrate through the darkness to the ceiling above their heads. Very many visiters have their curiosity satisfied Upon the very verge of the rock upon which we long before they have gone over the ground that are standing, are several beautiful white stalag-we have, but I am writing only for those who, like mites, grouped together, among which one stands me, are not satisfied, until everything is seen that pre-eminent. This is Bonaparte with his body is worthy of notice. Such would not excuse me, guard, crossing the Alps. The effect is peculiarly fine, when viewed from below.

did I not mention one more curiosity, few take the trouble to visit. A few yards beyond the flyWithout descending from our dangerous eleva- trap, there is an opening in the solid wall at the tion, we will go on our way a little farther. Pro- height of about twelve feet, through which you ceeding only a few paces from the emperor, you are admitted by a temporary ladder. By hard find yourself upon an arch, under which your climbing you soon penetrate to the end of the company are passing, which is very appropriately recess, where you will find the Source of the called the Natural Bridge; but it should be cross- Nile! This is a beautiful limpid spring, covered ed, if at all, with great caution, for there is dan- with a thin pellicle of stalagmite, yet sufficiently ger of being precipitated to the bottom. Retra- strong to bear your weight; in this crust there cing our steps nearly to Napoleon, we will descend is a perforation that gives you access to the waon the left, and by a jump of six feet, rejoin our ter beneath. company at the end of the Wilderness.

You are now upon the lowest level of the cave, and at the entrance of the farthest room. This is Jefferson's Hall; an extensive, but not very elevated apartment, quite level. Before I describe

As far as it is practicable, I have described very cursorily this wonderful cavern; but I feel convinced that no pen can adequately describe a curiosity so extensive, so magnificent, and so varied in its beauties.