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A Visit to the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky

Chapter 7: Transcriber’s Notes
By John Wilson
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Nature/Gardening/AnimalsTravel Writing

About This Book

A travel account recounts a long stagecoach journey to a Kentucky cave, noting landscape details, hotel arrangements, and hiring a guide. The author describes descending into a cool, lamp-lit cavern, the vast Main Cave with a Church chamber used for services, numerous passages and domes, cataracts and rivers, and visible remains of saltpetre manufacture. Visitors encounter a Haunted Chamber where mummies were found, a Register Room marred by soot signatures, and a Gothic Chapel supported by stalactite pillars. The narrative mixes wonder at the cave's scale with practical notes about guides, storage use, and seasonal visitor patterns.

SCOTIA’S DIRGE:
BEING
VERSES ON THE DEATH OF JOHN WILSON, Esq.,
THE SCOTTISH VOCALIST,
Who died at Quebec on the 9th July 1849.

Auld Scotia now may sigh aloud,

Her tears in torrents fa’,

Her sweetest harp now hangs unstrung,

Since Wilson’s ta’en awa’.

He sang o’ a’ her warlike deeds,

An’ sons that gallant were—

Her hoary towers, an’ snaw-clad hills,

An’ maidens sweet and fair.

His was a harp o’ thrillin’ sound,

Could pleasure aye impart;

Its melody o’ bygane days

Gaed hame to ilka heart.

Its strains could bring remembrance back

To youthfu’ days at school;

Or mak’ us sigh for Scotia’s wrangs,

An’ Flodden’s day o’ dool.

He sang o’ beauty’s winsome wiles,

In mony a leesome theme,

An’ gather’d by his artless lays

A never-dying name.

While heather blooms on Scotia’s hills,

An’ burnies join the sea,

His aft-applauded “Nichts wi’ Burns”

Will ne’er forgotten be.

Ye gentle maids! a tribute pay

Frae ’mang your Western bowers,

An’ strew the minstrel’s lowly grave

Wi’ summer’s balmy flowers!

Then rest thee, minstrel! Tho’ thy harp

Can noo nae mair be found,

The lovers o’ auld Scotia’s sangs

Can ne’er forget its sound!

Gourdon Schoolhouse. W. J.

Footnotes

[1]Bell’s house, when we leave the road, is midway between Nashville and Louisville, and 90 miles from each city.
[2]In St Louis I saw part of a panorama of the Upper Mississippi, which a French artist named Pomerade has been engaged on for some years, and which he has nearly finished. It is beautifully painted, and must prove very interesting, for he has introduced Indian scenes, customs, &c., and has also machinery which sets the steam-boats agoing, &c. He intends to have four views from the Mammoth Cave as drop-scenes; if he succeeds in giving anything like a faithful representation of them, it will add much to the eclat of his picture.

Transcriber’s Notes

  • Created an original cover image, for free unrestricted use with this eBook.
  • Silently corrected a few typos.
  • In the text versions, included italicized text in _underscores_.