The Madisonian. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1845, 1841-09-14
Mfscellameous.
From The Knickerbocker for August.
THE WHITE MOUNTAINS.


THE WHITE MOUNTAINS
NEW HAMPSHIRE.
Thirty miles north Of Lake Winnepisiogee-
a wretched misnomer, by the way, Of the old
Indian Winneepissaukee--th White Hills are
exceedingly grand, their huge bodies embracing
the whole horizon from the West around 10 the
North east, and their tops wreathed in clouds of
snow. As you advance North, they fill up more
of the space on every side, until al last you find
yourself completely begin with them, their rough
sides hemming you in every where. As you
approach them, population becomes more sparse,
the land more rough and sterile, and every thing
begins TO assume an appearance of uniformed
chaotic matter. We went on our way very
cheerfully, over glade, and brook and dngle,
now threading the thckening forest, and now
slowly passing the fraIl and tremulous bridge.
Speak well Of the bridge that carries you safe
over says the adage and | am sure that
never felt so much disposition to do series Of
bridges justice; for while they always discharg-
ed their duty, they always left one wondering
how they were able TO do it, Here and there
log house appeared in the midst Of a clearing
its wood chimney, and wood. plastered sides, and
windowless holes, looking cherries enough
Generally speaking, there is too little neaness
around log houses to give the picturesque cot
tage air so attractive to the traveller; and the
squald children crowding out Of the door to
gaze at the passer-by, or rolling with the pigs
| in the mud and sand, make the tout ensemble Of
| a new settlers habitation very repulsive
The valley which is irnversed by all travellers
visiting the White Hills, is intefsected by the
| Saco river. A most delicious valley il is, shut
in all around BY mountains fertile in the green
est grasses, and the lofnest trees. and most love-
w., because il is the only level spot the eye rests
upon in its reach over the huge elevations around
In the midst of this valley is the house of the
| elder Crawford His sons, whom we shall have
occasion TO mention hereafter, all Of them noun
| tain men, descendants, in height and strength
| Of limbs from Anak, live farther on. They
pass strange life Of il, these Crawfords-3
months in the year receiving and entertaining
vsiters from all parts OF the world and the other
nine living in utter solitude Still they are well
content with their lot; hale, hearty, jovial fell
lows all: ready TO oblige The visiters 10 the hills
in every possible way, and intimately associated
in the travellers mind with the curosites Of the
place II is here that you begin first to take in
the greatness of these mountains. All around
you, overlapping each other, they rise, and their
immense size contrasts strangely with the house,
| the trees, every thing indeed, near you. Your
ideas are enlarged by taking in objects so much
greater than you have ever seen before and for
time there is painful sensation in bringing the
mind up to all this greatness and grandeur. As
| you get accustomed TO them, the qualification is
increased, and YOU are never tired Of looking at
the variety Of prospects presented TO you as you
pass along Now there is the deep and SCARED
indentation which the avalanche has left then
the dense, dark forest. into which no intruder
has ever been, and on the trees of which no axe
has ever fallen, Here is the deep precpcc and
over il leaps the silvery streamlet; while there
is some narrow and winding pathway past rock,
and moor, and hiilock Sometimes YOU find the
solid body Of rock torn all in fragments, and the
huge boulders scattered in thick proiusion over
the ground. making whole miles the very .abo-
mination OF desolation.' Farther on, the dwarf
oak and clustered hazles cover acres of ground
contrasting strangely with the high-towerng To-
rests around. The submits Of the mountains
are generally bare Of all vegetation, and except
for one summer month, are covered with snow.
The hot days of the last of July and the first Of
August usually melt away most OF the old snow,
although many of the crevlces hold Il unmelted
from year to year, while by the first Of Septem.
her, and oftentmes before that, the morning
breaks upon the snow-covered tops.
The younger Crawford, who has been the
guide up the hills for many years, tells great
many laughable stories OF the pertlnacity Of ira
vellers in making the ascent after the season had
passed. He gives his advice only as TO the prac-
ticabiluy Of ascending or the probability Of a
clear sky from the top leaving the traveller 20
decide as to whether he will attempt Il. A
South Carolinian came here few years since.
on the last Of September, which is month later
than the ascent is ever made. MI. Crawford
gave him his advice; told him OF the difficulties
of ascent so late in the year, and urged HIM
against it. All would not do He had travelled
hundreds of miles TO stand on the highest land
in the States, and he was not 10 be diverted from
his purpose. He was accordingly furnished
with horses, provisions, blankets, and all ncces-
sary comforts, and by early light, on the first
clear morning, he set Off with hts guide 10 the
perilous undertaking. After reaching the foot
Of the ll,they dismounted, secured their horses.
and commenced the ascent Before half Of the
labor had been accomplished, the clouds covered
the heavens, and thick fall OF snow had set IN
upon them Still our traveller was undis
mayed, and encouraged and urged forward his
guide. The snow fell so fast that the difficulty
of moving onward increased every moment
and worse than all, the usual landmarks were
buried from sight. so that the guide declared be
was uncertain Of the way. The stranger, how
ever, was resolute; and through snow mid-leg
deep, and the bowling Of furious storm, he
urged on the fainting courage Of his guide