Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1858-1860, 1858-08-03
Correspondence Of the Providence Journal
Letter from a Lady who came near
Perishing on Mount Washington.

TO this neighbOrhood was TO ascend Mount
Washington, which as geOgraphers tells us, is
more than six thousand feet above the level
of the sea- The usual mode of ascent is on
horseback, but as am not particularly fond
OF that way OF locomotion, avoid it when
possible. Within the past few years car
! rlage road has been built part way up, and
| this year a still further portion has been
opened. so that carriages can 90 within three
miles of the top. From the point where the
carriage road merges into the bride path, the
| ascent is said to be easy and comfortable
| either on foot or on horseback. We were
| told before leaving the Crawford House, that
| here was no necessity of having guide as it
| was impossible to miss the path. | mention
this to show there was no fool-hardiness in
our starting off by ourselves and without a
| guide.
| We found the drive to Cold Spring, a dis
| lance of eight or nine miles, full of interest,
the road winding through mountain ravines,
| and often crossing the AmmanOosuc, some
times by bridges, but more frequently by for
| ding, an operation performed amid many
| jultings, on account of the rocky bed of the
| rapid stream. Through vast forests our way
| led, now through dark defe, now through
the open glade, the sound OF the rushing
stream and the rustling leaves ever in our ears.
Exquisite glimpses of the vale beneath us,
and the mountain above us, we caught on our
upward way, mountain rising upon mountain,
till the tops of the lOfticst peaks seemed lost
in the clouds. Often in narrow passages we
met parties returning from the mountains,
and as many among them were our personal
friends, we stopped to exchange salutatiOns
and good wishes. Not till after five o'clock,
did we arrive at Cold Spring, and there bid
ding good bye TO our dri, er, we two, as much
alone in that vast forest as though there was
none else beside Us in the world, turned our
faces steadily towards the summit of Mount
Washington The guide board told us it was
"a mile and three-quarters," that guide board
ought to be indicted for telling mOnstrOus
70 lsehOOd. for it must he three miles if | can
he any judge of distance. 1t was toilsome
ascent, the trees and shrubs hemming us in,
the air close and oppressive in tue extreme.
and the mosquitoes and a little black fly
annoying US to extent that became
almost lutolerable.
We often turned to gaze upon the scene
below, but that consolation was soon dcbar-
red Us, the mists and clouds efectually en-
shrouding u, that we seemed to be walk
ing i'll clOud-la land, gorgeous cloud-land."
The thund rolled beneath Us, reverberatlng
from mountain to mountain, the clouds ell
vlloped us, aud the scene became grand and
awful.
Rolling up and up came the clouds, and
then the rain beat down upon us to such an
extent that In five minutes we were literally
to 60 on, for going hy the guide-board we
were nearer the summit than the shed at Cold
Spring. so on we went, though one may easily
conceive that it is not the easiest thing in the
world for a lady to walk with dripping skirts
dangling around her feet.
Night came on with rapid strides and the
path became more and more hidden from
sight. Nature was fast becoming exhausted
but we dared not rest. The moments were
tn Ina N ST
for needful rest. Onward and upward we
tOlled, but on my part. with fast diminishing
strength of body and mind. The path be- !
came more and more toilsome, the soft earth |
being replaced by Jagged rocks and stones |
that wounded my feet at every step. just as
l thought we had reached the top, and fiat
tered myself that the Summit House" would |
soon meet my longing gaze, another peak
would loom up amid the haze, aud l knew |
that too must be surmounted ere the needful |
rest could be obtained. In vain We shouted |
for help; our voices rung out Ill the air. but |
brought back no response save their own echo. |
remembered the sad fate of her, who two |
years ago, lost her life near this very spot, |
caught had been, by night and storm |
overtaking them. In vain l urged my COM |
panion to leave me under the shelter of a
rock, and go while his own strength lasted, to |
the summit aud send back assistance: to me, |
but to this he would not hear. He dared not |
leave me. for fear of losing his own way, and |
of not being able 10 find me again No, we |
must go on together, for veal or for woe. !
dragged myself along, one foot slowly follow
ing another, often staggering and falling |
PROSTATE over the rocks, till l could not
move another step, but sankdown completely |
exhausted and despairing. L was too weak, |
too utterly worn out, even to think.
Just then. oh joyful sound! Mr.. E, who |
was in advance. exclaimed that he saw light |
ahead and that the house must be nigh at
hand. Even this gave me no strength. l |
was too tar gone to move without help. gam |
and again my companion, who held out TO the |
very last, shouted and at length his shouts |
were heard and answered. After little, |
emerging from the clouds as il seemed, came |
the dim outlines OF human forms, and in u |
moment we were surrounded by three men,
we took turns in carrying me the next half |
mile, till we reached the Summit House. This |
morning, one of the men showed me the spot |
where he picked me up, and whore he had |
erected pile of stones commemorative Of the |
event | am free to say that | could not help |
shudderng when | saw that ii was within |
only a few feet from that built up over the |
spot where Miss Bourne was found dead. Mrs. |
Hall, the wife of one of the prOprietors OF
the Summit House, treated me as kindly and |
as tendcrly rs though l had been her sister,
bathing me and rubbing M, putting dry !
warm bed, for | had no strength To help my /
self. | am happy to say that tired natures
sweet restorer, balmy sleep did her work |
so faithfully that when l awoke this morning |
was free from all evil effects of last nights |
exposure, save "a feeling OF soreness about my |
feet where they had been bruised by contact |
with the sharp rocks
have dwelt thus at length, perhaps un-
necessarily so, upon this sorrowful eXpedi-
tion, because the gentlemen who came down
here in advance of US, aud who ordered horses
sent up To meet US. gave narrowing accounts
OF our adventures, and rather threw blame
upon us tor venturing up without a guide.
Bat to this can only say that the proprietor |
OF the Crawford House, of his own accord, |
told US guide was not necessary (for we pro-
posed having one) and that friends who had |
been up maintained that it was utterly i'm
possible 10 lose the path. The mistake We |
made was in starting so late.-Strong IN con-
tdence of my own health aud powers of en-
the ascent without any difficulty whatever, !
had We had sufficient time before US. But |
the storm and the night overtaking us, aud /
the consciousness that We two We're alone in |
that vast solitude, and the knowledge that |
lives had been lost in corresponding circum-
stances, completely discouraged me; aud am |
sure any impartial person Will admit that in |
my care there MAS enough 10 shake the nerves |
aud subdue the courage OF q strong man, TO |
say nothing OF one Of the weaker SEX"