Silas McDowell (1795-1879) was the Renaissance Man of the Cullasaja. I’ve seen him identified as “tailor, farmer, court clerk, scientific observer, and writer” but that hardly seems adequate to describe the gentleman who has been my main mentor, of sorts, for the past 40 years.
From what I know he was a tad quirky and eccentric, but in a way that brought smiles from the people around him. Wry humor emerges from his recounting of a trip to Chimney Rock, where he intended to debunk the tradition of a spectral cavalry.
McDowell claimed that the 1811 sightings was reported in Niles’ Weekly Register in October 1811. However, I perused every page of Niles’ for all of 1811 and found no mention. McDowell also obliquely referred to contemporary newspaper accounts, but the only ones I found related to the 1806 sighting.
Regardless, during his 1831 visit to the gorge, Silas McDowell was intemperate with his derision of the old woman who “concocted” a story of spectral visions. He discovered, quite abruptly, that he had insulted the Grandmother of his very guide.
And at that point, the story becomes a literal cliffhanger...
A Spectre Cavalry Fight At Chimney Rock Pass, Blue Ridge N. C.
Old Bald Mountain of North Carolina, may, shake, crack, and yawn into chasms, attracting News paper Reporters, Yet will never get up a sensational story to equal that, of, the Spectre Cavalry fight, of the Chimney Rock Pass, in Rutherford County N. Carolina Nearly seventy years ago. The year 1811 was, the most sensational period, that our country has ever known, and, from these causes:
Early in that year, our continent was shaken by the earthquake, that sank New Madrid, a town on the bank of the Mississippi river. And, it was also in that year the Heavens were swept, by the luminous tail of a comet, reaching from the horizon to the top of the, ethereal vault. And to give, intensity to the excitement of superstitious minds, a fanatic, named Nimrod Hughes circulated a pamphlet; announcing, that the comet would strike the Earth, set it on fire, then the drama, of Time would end, amid a great noise. We must not forget, that seventy years ago the Press had done but little toward, enlightening the public mind, and that, Superstition run rampant, over the land. It was, under these circumstances that the Story of the Spectre Cavalry fight, at the Chimney Rock Pass, took its start, and was published in all the newspapers of the States.
At that time I was, in my sixteenth year, and lived in the town of Rutherfordton, only twenty miles from, the locality of this great excitement, —But, as the tale to be narrated is located at, Chimney Rock, Pass, I had better tell what that place was, and is. It is a deep ravine, four miles in length, and an half mile wide, that Time has scooped out of the east side of the Blue Ridge, around which, we fancy in the "Long ago," the Titans built a wall of, rock, varying in height from one thousand to fifteen hundred feet, with an open space at its, east entrance. And at that opening, stands a rough column shaped rock, three hundred feet high, crowned with a coronet of pine trees. This is "Chimney Rock," and its name attached, to the Ravine, and at the date referred to, was named, "Chimney Rock Pass." The ravine, was used as Summer pasture for cattle, salted and herded by an old man and his wife, the only residents of the ravine.
Chimney Rock Pass is one of Nature's sublimest poems, where the objects are so weird, beautiful, and grand, that words cannot translate them, and they can only be seen, and felt, when we look, wonder, and admire, in dumb amazement.
I am through with this digression, which the reader can skip, if he is impatient for the story, of the Spectre Battle, which is this—Early in the month of Sept, 1811 several Mountaineers from the Blue Ridge, came to town, and narrated the exciting story of the Spectre battle of Chimney Rock Pass, and the tale spread in all directions as if borne by the winds.
Farmers quit their fields, and rushed to town to hear the wonderful Story. A public meeting was called and a delegation selected, headed by Gen'ls Miller and Walton, with a Magistrate and Clerk to repair to the place of the reported battle, examine Witnesses, and record testimony.
They went, and returned, with the Spectre phenomenon, of which this is the substance to wit—The old man and his wife, who lived in the deepest part of the ravine, opposite the "High-falls," were seated in their yard, after the sun had sunk behind the Blue Ridge, noticing how fast the shadow of the cliffs darkened the ravine below, while the Sun's rays still lingered on the tops of the cliffs, when their attention was arrested by the astounding spectacle, to wit—two opposing armies of horse-men, high up in the air all mounted on winged horses, and preparing for combat.
At length (the old man was deaf) the old woman heard, the word "Charge!!" when the two armies, dashed into each-other, cutting thrusting and hacking, and she distinctly heard the ring of their swords, and saw the glitter of their blades, flashing in the Sun's rays. Thus they fought for about ten minutes, when one army was routed, and left the field, and then, she plainly heard the shouts of the victors, and wails of the defeated.
Soon after which; darkness, hid both armies from their view. On subsequent evenings they had seen these Spectre troopers, but not in battle, and the latter statement was confirmed, by three, respectable men who had been at their house, and witnessed the same phenomenon.
In less than a month, subsequent to this, the Story of the Spectre Cavalry fight, at Chimney Rock Pass was circulated in all the journals of the United States, and may be found, in Nile's Weekly Register of that date, (Oct 1811.).
For the next ensuing twenty years I rated the story, as the very best sensational story I had ever read, and its concoctors, (particularly the old woman) as shrewd, but perjured, and without motive, save notoriety. But in the year 1831, I spent near a week in the ravine, and then was satisfied, that, at times, there is an illusive phenomenon, seen there that would lead astray the judgement of any one who was not a philosopher, and its explanation, shall be the subject of another chapter.
Against the year 1831, a Road company had knocked all poetry out of the name, "Chimney Rock Pass," by constructing a public road through the ravine, and calling it "Hickory Nut Gap." Yet its scores of wild and weird objects were untouched. Chimney Rock was unchanged, and still stood sentinel at the entrance, of the ravine, towering in its crown of pines. The limpid pool more than fifty feet in depth, in a solid rock basin, still remained, while above it down the smooth clear face of the cliff ran a crystal brook, which at regular intervals of fifty paces was broken into three cascades, of snowy spray, each lightly plashing into its rock basin, all three rising one above the other on the rock, they constitute a picture undescribably lovely. Each cascade is on the same height, fifteen feet. A mile away, up the ravine is, seen pitching from the top of a cliff, the snow white waters of "Falling creek," as it makes its single leap of, seven-hundred (700) feet. Moreover the ravine is still drained by the lovely little river, fed by a thousand mountain springs, and dancing merrily as it brawls over pebbles, or sleeps in shadowy pools. What's in a name? That of Hickory Nut Gap, even, has not faded out the wild romantic beauty of this ravine.
I will now dash into my story. In September 1831 I engaged lodging for a week with Washington Harris, who kept a small Hotel in the ravine, and employed a strong muscular youth who knew every nook in the glen to accompany me, and at tight places help me up the cliffs.
The recesses of the ravine were as familiar to him as a book, and he showed me every thing and informed me of all the secret nooks of the mountains, for miles around. And I was surprised at the intelligent way in which he traced effect up to its cause in accounting for, the deep pools in solid rock. No Geologist could have spoken more learnedly on that subject. Rocks, their Strata, dip and Strike, he was perfectly, familiar with the entire subject. If I have ever, seen another youth of as much native, mental force I am not aware of it—But, in temper he was a tiger, and I had one small evidence of it before we parted.
The incident transpired during our last days ramble, in the ravine. We had climbed to the top of the South cliff and walked upon its lofty crest, until we reached the point, where Fall creek makes its clear leap down the rock for seven hundred feet. By holding on to the shrubs, and leaning our bodies over the cliff, we could see the white sheet of water in its entire descent, until it struck the rock below, then for six hundred feet further it dashed among loose boulder-rocks to the river. From this point of view, the entire ravine is seen as a grand panoramic picture, and, I think, the world cannot show a better. It occupied an entire hour, to examine it in all its details.
The recesses of the ravine were as familiar to him as a book, and he showed me every thing and informed me of all the secret nooks of the mountains, for miles around. And I was surprised at the intelligent way in which he traced effect up to its cause in accounting for, the deep pools in solid rock. No Geologist could have spoken more learnedly on that subject. Rocks, their Strata, dip and Strike, he was perfectly, familiar with the entire subject. If I have ever, seen another youth of as much native, mental force I am not aware of it—But, in temper he was a tiger, and I had one small evidence of it before we parted.
The incident transpired during our last days ramble, in the ravine. We had climbed to the top of the South cliff and walked upon its lofty crest, until we reached the point, where Fall creek makes its clear leap down the rock for seven hundred feet. By holding on to the shrubs, and leaning our bodies over the cliff, we could see the white sheet of water in its entire descent, until it struck the rock below, then for six hundred feet further it dashed among loose boulder-rocks to the river. From this point of view, the entire ravine is seen as a grand panoramic picture, and, I think, the world cannot show a better. It occupied an entire hour, to examine it in all its details.
At length, below us in the ravine I espied the house; where, twenty years before lived the old couple, who had fabricated the Story of the "Spectre Cavalry fight at Chimney Rock Pass." Pointing down to the old building I observed to the youth, "In yonder old house just twenty years, ago, lived an old couple, man and wife, and they had the strong brain to fabricate, and wicked heart, to swear to, the most sensational falsehood, I ever read, but in my opinion, it was the old woman who concocted and managed the whole affair. She must have been an old hag!—A devil in petticoats."
The youth at this suddenly became transformed; his keen grey eyes glowed like coals of fire, while his breast heaved with the fury of a tiger, he sprang at me. I was as powerless as a child in his powerful arms, and holding me at arms length, over the yawning abyss of one thousand four hundred feet, he exclaimed "Villain! You shall take back or qualify your utterances against my Grand-Mother, or I'll hurl you to the bottom of this cliff"
"Hold on young man for Heaven's sake" I cried, "and I will qualify, take back, or do any thing you wish."
He at once grew composed, and bore me in his arms, from the brink of the cliff, and seated me on a rock. I thought the youth crazed, and that it would best, to conciliate him, in regard to what I had said against his Grand-Mother but he bade me not proceed with the subject, that if, an apology was due, it was from him to me, as he, had acted like a fool, in suffering his anger to overcome his judgement, That from my point of view, my estimation of this Grand Mother, was a natural result, and that my conclusions were what his would have been in like circumstances.
"But, —he continued—I have made the phenomenon of the Spectre troopers, seen in this ravine, the grand study of my life, and have, for years, accounted for the phenomenon on philosophic principles, and in this way. Some years, in Autumn, when the atmosphere is clear, before a change in weather, the lower atmosphere, in the ravine is surcharged, with vapor, and to all objects in the upper atmosphere, seen through this medium, this vapor acts with telescopic effect, and swells in size a bunch of gnats when at play in the sun's rays to the appearance of a squadron of winged-horse."
"What about the riders?" I questioned.
"Each gnat has a hunch on its back that does look like a rider" he replied.
"But, I continued, "Your Grand Mother saw their swords flashing?"
"That was the glitter of their wings" he answered.
"Your Grand-Mother's hearing must have been extraordinary. She heard the command of officers, and when, one army was routed, the shout of victory and wail of defeat, What about that?"
The young man made no reply but looked, perplexed and impatient and I again saw the glint of devil, in his luminous grey eyes, but he controlled his passion, and at length observed. "Sir I am aware that a long cherished opinion requires, plain demonstration to remove it."
"But could you have been at the old cabin, down yonder, on some still evening, about sunset, with a score of cattle-bells sounding in the ravine, and of different tone, and then heard the echoes, return from these tall cliffs, you would not have thought it strange that my Grand Mother had interpreted, these sounds as words, shouts, and wails.
I grasped the young madman's hand (he was nothing else) and exclaimed, "Young man you have made out a plain and beautiful case, and I heartily take back, all my unkind utterances against your good old Grand-Mother."
Since that day it is now forty seven years, and from then 'till now I have been, occasionally, haunted with "night mare" dreams, in which this crazed youth is hurling me from the top of some tall cliff.
The youth at this suddenly became transformed; his keen grey eyes glowed like coals of fire, while his breast heaved with the fury of a tiger, he sprang at me. I was as powerless as a child in his powerful arms, and holding me at arms length, over the yawning abyss of one thousand four hundred feet, he exclaimed "Villain! You shall take back or qualify your utterances against my Grand-Mother, or I'll hurl you to the bottom of this cliff"
"Hold on young man for Heaven's sake" I cried, "and I will qualify, take back, or do any thing you wish."
He at once grew composed, and bore me in his arms, from the brink of the cliff, and seated me on a rock. I thought the youth crazed, and that it would best, to conciliate him, in regard to what I had said against his Grand-Mother but he bade me not proceed with the subject, that if, an apology was due, it was from him to me, as he, had acted like a fool, in suffering his anger to overcome his judgement, That from my point of view, my estimation of this Grand Mother, was a natural result, and that my conclusions were what his would have been in like circumstances.
"But, —he continued—I have made the phenomenon of the Spectre troopers, seen in this ravine, the grand study of my life, and have, for years, accounted for the phenomenon on philosophic principles, and in this way. Some years, in Autumn, when the atmosphere is clear, before a change in weather, the lower atmosphere, in the ravine is surcharged, with vapor, and to all objects in the upper atmosphere, seen through this medium, this vapor acts with telescopic effect, and swells in size a bunch of gnats when at play in the sun's rays to the appearance of a squadron of winged-horse."
"What about the riders?" I questioned.
"Each gnat has a hunch on its back that does look like a rider" he replied.
"But, I continued, "Your Grand Mother saw their swords flashing?"
"That was the glitter of their wings" he answered.
"Your Grand-Mother's hearing must have been extraordinary. She heard the command of officers, and when, one army was routed, the shout of victory and wail of defeat, What about that?"
The young man made no reply but looked, perplexed and impatient and I again saw the glint of devil, in his luminous grey eyes, but he controlled his passion, and at length observed. "Sir I am aware that a long cherished opinion requires, plain demonstration to remove it."
"But could you have been at the old cabin, down yonder, on some still evening, about sunset, with a score of cattle-bells sounding in the ravine, and of different tone, and then heard the echoes, return from these tall cliffs, you would not have thought it strange that my Grand Mother had interpreted, these sounds as words, shouts, and wails.
I grasped the young madman's hand (he was nothing else) and exclaimed, "Young man you have made out a plain and beautiful case, and I heartily take back, all my unkind utterances against your good old Grand-Mother."
Since that day it is now forty seven years, and from then 'till now I have been, occasionally, haunted with "night mare" dreams, in which this crazed youth is hurling me from the top of some tall cliff.
July 1878
Silas McDowell
Silas McDowell
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