Andersonville, vol 1 | Page 8

almost inaccessible mountains,
interposed across every approach from the usual haunts of men.
Roundabout the land is full of strangeness and mystery. The throes of
some great convulsion of Nature are written on the face of the four
thousand square miles of territory, of which Cumberland Gap is the
central point. Miles of granite mountains are thrust up like giant walls,

hundreds of feet high, and as smooth and regular as the side of a
monument.
Huge, fantastically-shaped rocks abound everywhere--sometimes rising
into pinnacles on lofty summits--sometimes hanging over the verge of
beetling cliffs, as if placed there in waiting for a time when they could
be hurled down upon the path of an advancing army, and sweep it
away.
Large streams of water burst out in the most unexpected planes,
frequently far up mountain sides, and fall in silver veils upon stones
beaten round by the ceaseless dash for ages. Caves, rich in quaintly
formed stalactites and stalagmites, and their recesses filled with
metallic salts of the most powerful and diverse natures; break the
mountain sides at frequent intervals. Everywhere one is met by
surprises and anomalies. Even the rank vegetation is eccentric, and as
prone to develop into bizarre forms as are the rocks and mountains.
The dreaded panther ranges through the primeval, rarely trodden forests;
every crevice in the rocks has for tenants rattlesnakes or stealthy
copperheads, while long, wonderfully swift "blue racers" haunt the
edges of the woods, and linger around the fields to chill his blood who
catches a glimpse of their upreared heads, with their great, balefully
bright eyes, and "white-collar" encircled throats.
The human events happening here have been in harmony with the
natural ones. It has always been a land of conflict. In 1540--339 years
ago-- De Soto, in that energetic but fruitless search for gold which
occupied his later years, penetrated to this region, and found it the
fastness of the Xualans, a bold, aggressive race, continually warring
with its neighbors. When next the white man reached the country--a
century and a half later--he found the Xualans had been swept away by
the conquering Cherokees, and he witnessed there the most sanguinary
contest between Indians of which our annals give any account--a
pitched battle two days in duration, between the invading Shawnees,
who lorded it over what is now Kentucky, Ohio and Indiana--and the
Cherokees, who dominated the country the southeast of the
Cumberland range. Again the Cherokees were victorious, and the
discomfited Shawnees retired north of the Gap.
Then the white man delivered battle for the possession the land, and
bought it with the lives of many gallant adventurers. Half a century

later Boone and his hardy companion followed, and forced their way
into Kentucky.
Another half century saw the Gap the favorite haunt of the greatest of
American bandits--the noted John A. Murrell--and his gang. They
infested the country for years, now waylaying the trader or drover
threading his toilsome way over the lone mountains, now descending
upon some little town, to plunder its stores and houses.
At length Murrell and his band were driven out, and sought a new field
of operations on the Lower Mississippi. They left germs behind them,
however, that developed into horse thieve counterfeiters, and later into
guerrillas and bushwhackers.
When the Rebellion broke out the region at once became the theater of
military operations. Twice Cumberland Gap was seized by the Rebels,
and twice was it wrested away from them. In 1861 it was the point
whence Zollicoffer launched out with his legions to "liberate
Kentucky," and it was whither they fled, beaten and shattered, after the
disasters of Wild Cat and Mill Springs. In 1862 Kirby Smith led his
army through the Gap on his way to overrun Kentucky and invade the
North. Three months later his beaten forces sought refuge from their
pursuers behind its impregnable fortifications. Another year saw
Burnside burst through the Gap with a conquering force and redeem
loyal East Tennessee from its Rebel oppressors.
Had the South ever been able to separate from the North the boundary
would have been established along this line.
Between the main ridge upon which Cumberland Gap is situated, and
the next range on the southeast which runs parallel with it, is a narrow,
long, very fruitful valley, walled in on either side for a hundred miles
by tall mountains as a City street is by high buildings. It is called
Powell's Valley. In it dwell a simple, primitive people, shut out from
the world almost as much as if they lived in New Zealand, and with the
speech, manners and ideas that their fathers brought into the Valley
when they settled it a century ago. There has been but little change
since then. The young men who have annually driven cattle to the