Mr. Wilcox onari extraordinary Avalanche. 80S 



and saw the extraordinary effects of the avalanche and ruin the 

 very day after the event. His account of it is highly interest- 

 ing, and we copy it verbatim, though it contains a slight repeti- 

 tion respecting the fate of the Willey family. 



" I left Hanover on Saturday last in company with two gentle- 

 men of my acquaintance from the city of New York, and rode 

 as far as Haverhill, where we all spent the Sabbath. The 

 road over which we passed was like a bed of ashes two or 

 three inches deep ; and the country around us exhibited the 

 usual effects of a long drought. The abundant rains that fell 

 three weeks ago over the southern half of New England did 

 not reach the upper part of the valley of Connecticut River. 

 On Monday morning it began to rain at Haverhill, and con- 

 tinued along our route for most of the day, but so moderately, 

 and at such intervals, that, with the help of great coats and 

 umbrellas, we proceeded on our journey in an open waggon as 

 far as Bethlehem, fifteen miles west of the White Mountains. 

 As we approached the vicinity of the mountains, the rain in- 

 creased till it became a storm, and compelled us to stop about 

 the middle of the afternoon. 



The storm continued mo^t of the night ; but the next 

 morninff was clear and serene. The view from the hill of 

 Bethlehem was extensive and delightful. In the eastern ho- 

 rizon. Mount Washington, with the neighbouring peaks on 

 the north and on the south, formed a grand outline far up in 

 the blue sky. Two or three small fleecy clouds rested on its 

 side, a little below its summit, while from behind this highest 

 point of land'in the United States east of the Mississippi, the 

 sun rolled up rejoicing in his strength and glory. We started 

 off towards the object of our journey, with spirits greatly ex- 

 hilarated by the beauty and grandeur of our prospect. As 

 we hastened forward with our eyes fixed on the tops of the 

 mountains before us, little did we think of the scene of destruc- 

 tion around their base, on which the sun was now for the first 

 time beginning to shine. In about half an hour we entered 

 Breton Woods, an unincorporated tract of land covered with 

 primitive forest, extending on our road five miles to Rose- 

 brook''s Inn, and thence six miles to Crawford's, the establish- 

 ment begun by Rosebrook's father, as described in the travels: 



