The Heart Of The White Mountains - free ebook by Samuel Adams Drake

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The Heart Of The White Mountains

Samuel Adams Drake

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THE HEART OF THE WHITE MOUNTAINS THEIR LEGEND AND SCENERY

THE HEART OF THE WHITE MOUNTAINS THEIR LEGEND AND SCENERY

BY SAMUEL ADAMS DRAKE AUTHOR OF “NOOKS AND CORNERS OF THE NEW ENGLAND COAST” “CAPTAIN NELSON” ETC. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY W. HAMILTON GIBSON “ Eyes loose: thoughts close ” NEW YORK HARPER &amp; BROTHERS. FRANKLIN SQUARE 1882 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1881, by HARPER &amp; BROTHERS, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. All rights reserved. To JOHN G. WHITTIER: An illustrious and venerated bard, who shares with you the love and honor o

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PREFACE.

PREFACE.

T HE very flattering reception which the sumptuous holiday edition of “The Heart of the White Mountains” received on its début has decided the Messrs. Harper to re-issue it in a more convenient and less expensive form, with the addition of a Tourist’s Appendix, and an Index farther adapting it for the use of actual travellers. While all the original features remain intact, these additions serve to render the references in the text intelligible to the uninstructed reader, and at the same time hel

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I. MY TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.

I. MY TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.

“Si jeunesse savait! si viellesse pouvait!” O NE morning in September I was sauntering up and down the railway-station waiting for the slow hands of the clock to reach the hour fixed for the departure of the train. The fact that these hands never move backward did not in the least seem to restrain the impatience of the travellers thronging into the station, some with happy, some with anxious faces, some without trace of either emotion, yet all betraying the same eagerness and haste of manner. Al

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II. INCOMPARABLE WINNIPISEOGEE.

II. INCOMPARABLE WINNIPISEOGEE.

W HEN the steamer glides out of the land-locked inlet at the bottom of which Wolfborough is situated, one of those pictures, forever ineffaceable, presents itself. In effect, all the conditions of a picture are realized. Here is the shining expanse of the lake stretching away in the distance, and finally lost among tufted inlets and foliage-rounded promontories. To the right are the Ossipee mountains, dark, vigorously outlined, and wooded to their summits. To the left, more distant, rise the twi

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III. CHOCORUA.

III. CHOCORUA.

A FTER a stay at Centre Harbor long enough to gain a knowledge of its charming environs, but which seemed all too brief, I took the stage at two o’clock one sunny afternoon for Tamworth. I had resolved, if the following morning should be clear, to ascend Chocorua, which from the summit of Red Hill seemed to fling his defiance from afar. Following my custom, I took an outside seat with the driver. There being only three or four passengers, what is frequently a bone of contention was settled witho

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IV. LOVEWELL.

IV. LOVEWELL.

L ET us make a détour to historic Fryeburg, leaving the cars at Conway, which in former times enjoyed a happy pre-eminence as the centre upon which the old stage-routes converged, and where travellers, going or returning from the mountains, always passed the night. But those old travellers have mostly gone where the name of Chatigee, by which both drivers and tourists liked to designate Conway, is going; only there is for the name, fortunately, no resurrection. No one knows its origin; none will

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V. NORTH CONWAY.

V. NORTH CONWAY.

T HE entrance to North Conway is, without doubt, the most beautiful and imposing introduction to the high mountains. Although the traveller has for fifty miles skirted the outlying ranges, catching quick-shifting glimpses of the great summits, yet, when at last the train swings round the foot of the Moat range into the Saco Valley, so complete is the transition, so charming the picture, that not even the most apathetic can repress a movement of surprise and admiration. This is the moment when ev

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VI. FROM KEARSARGE TO CARRIGAIN.

VI. FROM KEARSARGE TO CARRIGAIN.

A FTER the storm, we had a fine lunar bow. The corona in the centre was a clear silver, the outer circle composed of pale green and orange fires. Over the moon’s disk clouds swept a continuous stormy flight. The great planet resembled a splendid decoration hung high in the heavens. Having now progressed to terms of easy familiarity with the village, it was decided to pay our respects to the Intervale, which unites it with the neighboring town of Bartlett. The road up the valley first skirts a wo

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VII. VALLEY OF THE SACO.

VII. VALLEY OF THE SACO.

A T eight o’clock in the morning we resumed our march, with the intention of reaching Crawford’s the same evening. The day was cold, raw, and windy, so we walked briskly—sharp air and cutting wind acting like whip and spur. I retain a vivid recollection of this morning. Autumn had passed her cool hand over the fevered earth. Soft as three-piled velvet, the green turf left no trace of our tread. The sky was of a dazzling blue, and frescoed with light clouds, transparent as gauze, pure as the snow

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VIII. THROUGH THE NOTCH.

VIII. THROUGH THE NOTCH.

T HE valley, which had continually contracted since leaving Bartlett, now appeared fast shut between these two mountains; but on turning the tremendous support which Mount Willey flings down, we were in presence of the amazing defile cloven through the midst, and giving entrance to the heart of the White Hills. These gigantic mountains divided to the right and left, like the Red Sea before the Israelites. Through the immense trough, over which their crests hung suspended in mid-air, the highway

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IX. CRAWFORD’S.

IX. CRAWFORD’S.

A LL who have passed much time at the mountains have seen the elephant—near the gate of the Notch. Though it is only from Nature’s chisel, the elephant is an honest one, and readily admitted into the category of things curious or marvellous constantly displayed for our inspection. Standing on the piazza of the hotel, the enormous forehead and trunk seem just emerging from the shaggy woods near the entrance to the pass. And the gray of the granite strengthens the illusion still more. From the Ele

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X. THE ASCENT FROM CRAWFORD’S.

X. THE ASCENT FROM CRAWFORD’S.

A T five in the morning I was aroused by a loud rap at the door. In an instant I had jumped out of bed, ran to the window, and peered out. It was still dark; but the heavens were bright with stars, so bright that there was light in the room. Now or never was our opportunity. Not a moment was to be lost. I began a vigorous reveille upon the window-pane. George half opened one sleepy eye, and asked if the house was on fire. The colonel pretended not to have heard. “Up, sluggards!” I exclaimed; “th

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SECOND JOURNEY.

SECOND JOURNEY.

WHITE MOUNTAINS (CENTRAL AND NORTHERN SECTION.) FROM Walling’s Map of NEW HAMPSHIRE, With corrections by Members of the APPALACHIAN CLUB. 1881. [ larger view ] [ largest view ]...

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I. LEGENDS OF THE CRYSTAL HILLS.

I. LEGENDS OF THE CRYSTAL HILLS.

W HEN Cabot, in the Mathew , of Bristol, was sailing by the New England coast, and the amazed savage beheld a pyramid of white sails rising, like a cloud, out of the sea, the navigator saw from the deck of his ship, rising out of the land, a cluster of lofty summits cut like a cameo on the northern sky. The Indian left his tradition of the marvellous apparition, which he at first believed to be a mass of trees wrapped in faded foliage, drifting slowly at the caprice of the waves; but, as he gaze

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II. JACKSON AND THE ELLIS VALLEY.

II. JACKSON AND THE ELLIS VALLEY.

I T is Petrarch who says, “A journey on foot hath most pleasant commodities; a man may go at his pleasure; none shall stay him, none shall carry him beyond his wish, none shall trouble him; he hath but one labor, the labor of nature, to go.” Every true pedestrian ought to render full faith to the poet’s assertion; and should he chance to have his Laura, he will see her somewhere, or, rather, everywhere, I promise him. But that is his affair. There are two ways of reaching Jackson from North Conw

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III. THE CARTER NOTCH.

III. THE CARTER NOTCH.

W HAT traveller can pass beyond the crest of Thorn Hill without paying his tribute of silent admiration to the splendid pageant of mountains visible from this charmed spot! Before him the great rampart, bristling with its countless towers, is breached as cleanly as if a cannon-ball had just crashed through it. It is an immense hole; it is the cavity from which, apparently, one of those great iron teeth has just been extracted. Only it does not disfigure the landscape. Far from it. It really exal

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IV. THE PINKHAM NOTCH.

IV. THE PINKHAM NOTCH.

T HE Glen House is one of the last strongholds of the old ways of travel. Jackson is twelve, Randolph seven, and Gorham eight miles distant. These are the nearest villages. The nearest farm-houses are Copp’s, three miles on the road to Randolph, and Emery’s, six on the road to Jackson. The nearest railway-station is eight miles off, at Gorham. The nearest steam-whistle is there. So much for its seclusion. Being thus isolated, the Glen House is naturally the point of direction for the region adja

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V. A SCRAMBLE IN TUCKERMAN’S.

V. A SCRAMBLE IN TUCKERMAN’S.

A T the mountains the first look of every one is directed to the heavens, not in silent adoration or holy meditation, but in earnest scrutiny of the weather. For here the weather governs with absolute sway; and nowhere is it more capricious. Morning and evening skies are, therefore, consulted with an interest the varied destinies of the day may be supposed to suggest. From being a merely conventional topic, the weather becomes one of the first importance, and such salutations as “A fine day,” or

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VI. IN AND ABOUT GORHAM.

VI. IN AND ABOUT GORHAM.

A FTER the events described in the last chapter, I continued, like the navigator of unknown coasts, my tour of the great range. Half a mile below the Glen House, the Great Gulf discharges from its black throat the little river rising on the plateau at its head. The head of this stupendous abyss is a mountain, and mountains wall it in. Its depths remain unexplored except by an occasional angler or trapper. Two and a half miles farther on a road diverges to the left, crosses the Peabody by a bridg

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VII. ASCENT BY THE CARRIAGE-ROAD.

VII. ASCENT BY THE CARRIAGE-ROAD.

T HE first days of May, 1877, found me again at the Glen House, prepared to put in immediate execution the long-deferred purpose of ascending Mount Washington in the balmy days of spring. Before separating for the night, my young Jehu, who drove me from Gorham in an hour, said, with a grin, “So you are going where they cut their butter with a chisel, and their meat with a hand-saw?” “What do you mean?” “Oh, you will learn to-morrow.” “Till to-morrow, then.” “Good-night.” At six in the morning, w

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VIII. MOUNT WASHINGTON.

VIII. MOUNT WASHINGTON.

The soldiers from the mountain Theches ran from rear to front, breaking their ranks, crowding tumultuously upon each other, laughing and shouting, “The sea! the sea!”— Xenophon’s Anabasis . A FTER the repast we walked out, Private Doyle and I, upon the narrow platform behind the house. According to every appearance I had reached Ultima Thule . For some moments—moments not to be forgotten—we stood there silent. Neither stirred. The scene was too tremendous to be grasped in an instant. A moment wa

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THIRD JOURNEY.

THIRD JOURNEY.

White Mountains (W4est Side) 1881 [ larger view ] [ largest view ]...

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I. THE PEMIGEWASSET IN JUNE.

I. THE PEMIGEWASSET IN JUNE.

P LYMOUTH lies at the entrance to the Pemigewasset Valley, like an encampment pitched to dispute its passage. At present its design is to facilitate the ingress of tourists. I am sitting at the window this morning looking down the Pemigewasset Valley. It is a gray, sad morning. Wet clouds hang and droop heavily over. In the distance the frayed and tattered edges are rolled up, half-disclosing the humid outlines of the hills on the other side of the valley. The trees are budded with rain-drops. T

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II. THE FRANCONIA PASS.

II. THE FRANCONIA PASS.

W HEN Boswell exclaimed in ecstasy, “An immense mountain!” Dr. Johnson sneered, “An immense protuberance!” but he, the sublime cynic, became respectful before leaving the Hebrides. Charles Lamb, too, at one time pretended something approaching contempt for mountains; but, after a visit to Coleridge, he made the amende honorable in these terms: “I feel I shall remember your mountains to the last day of my life. They haunt me perpetually. I am like a man who has been falling in love unknown to him

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III. THE KING OF FRANCONIA.

III. THE KING OF FRANCONIA.

A T noon we reached the spacious and inviting Profile House, which is hid away in a deep and narrow glen, nearly two thousand feet above the sea. No situation could be more sequestered or more charming. The place seems stolen from the unkempt wilderness that shuts it in. An oval, grassy plain, not extensive, but bright and smiling, spreads its green between a grisly precipice and a shaggy mountain. And there, if you-will believe me, in front of the long, white-columned hotel, like a Turkish rug

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IV. FRANCONIA, AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD.

IV. FRANCONIA, AND THE NEIGHBORHOOD.

Believe if thou wilt that mountains change their places, but believe not that men change their dispositions.— Oriental Proverb . A LTHOUGH one may make the journey from the Profile House to Bethlehem with greater ease and rapidity by the railway recently constructed along the side of the Franconia range, preference will unquestionably be given to the old way by all who would not lose some of the most striking views the neighborhood affords. Beginning near the hotel, the railway skirts the shore

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V. THE CONNECTICUT OX-BOW.

V. THE CONNECTICUT OX-BOW.

T HE Connecticut is justly named “the beautiful river,” and its valley “the garden of New England.” Issuing from the heart of the northern wilderness, it spreads boundless fertility throughout its stately march to the sea. It is not a rapid river, but flows with an even and majestic tide through its long avenue of mountains. Radiant envoy of the skies, its mission is peace on earth and good-will toward men. As it advances the confluent streams flock to it from their mountain homes. On one side t

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VI. THE SACK OF ST. FRANCIS DE SALES.

VI. THE SACK OF ST. FRANCIS DE SALES.

“L’histoire à sa vérité; la legende a la sienne.” I N the month of September, 1759, the army of Sir Jeffrey Amherst was in cantonments at Crown Point. A picked corps of American rangers, commanded by Robert Rogers, was attached to this army. One day an aide-de-camp brought Rogers an order to repair forthwith to head-quarters, and in a few moments the ranger entered the general’s marquee. “At your orders, general,” said the ranger, making his salute. “About that accursed hornet’s-nest of St. Fr

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VII. MOOSEHILLOCK.

VII. MOOSEHILLOCK.

M OOSEHILLOCK, or Moosilauke, [34] is one of four or five summits from which the best idea of the whole area of the White Mountains may be obtained. It is not so remarkable for its form as for its mass. It is an immense mountain. Lifted in solitary grandeur upon the extreme borders of the army of peaks to which it belongs, and which it seems defending, haughtily over-bearing those lesser summits of the Green Mountains confronting it from the opposite shores of the Connecticut, which here separat

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VIII. BETHLEHEM.

VIII. BETHLEHEM.

H AVING finished with the western approach to the White Mountains, I was now at liberty to retrace my route up the Ammonoosuc Valley, which so abounds in picturesque details—farms, hamlets, herds, groups of pines, maples, torrents, roads feeling their way up the heights—to that anomaly of mountain towns, Bethlehem. Thanks to the locomotive, the journey is short. The villages of Bath, Lisbon, Littleton, are successively entered; the same flurry gives a momentary activity to each station, the same

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IX. JEFFERSON, AND THE VALLEY OF ISRAEL’S RIVER.

IX. JEFFERSON, AND THE VALLEY OF ISRAEL’S RIVER.

I T remains to introduce the reader into the valley watered by Israel’s River, and for this purpose we take the rail from Bethlehem to Whitefield, and from Whitefield to Jefferson. Like Bethlehem, Jefferson lies reposing in mid-ascent of a mountain. Here the resemblance ends. The mountain above it is higher, the valley beneath more open, permitting an unimpeded view up and down. The hill-side upon which the clump of hotels is situated makes no steep plunge into the valley, but inclines gently do

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X. THE GREAT NORTHERN PEAKS.

X. THE GREAT NORTHERN PEAKS.

T HUS I found myself again at the base of Mount Washington, but on the reverse, opposed to the Glen. Before the completion of the railway from Fabyan’s to the foot of the mountain I had passed over the intervening six miles by stage—a delightful experience; but one now steps on board an open car, which in less than half the time formerly occupied leaves him at the point where the mountain car and engine wait for him. The route lies along the foaming Ammonoosuc, and its justly admired falls, cut

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TOURIST’S APPENDIX. PREPARED FOR “THE HEART OF THE WHITE MOUNTAINS.”

TOURIST’S APPENDIX. PREPARED FOR “THE HEART OF THE WHITE MOUNTAINS.”

GEOGRAPHY.—The White Mountains are in the northern central part of the State of New Hampshire. They occupy the whole area of the State between Maine and Vermont, and between Lake Winnipiseogee and the head-streams of the Connecticut and Androscoggin rivers. Two principal chains, having a general direction from south-west to north-east, constitute this great water-shed of New England. These are the Franconia and the White Mountains proper, sometimes called the “Presidential Range.” Grouped on all

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