120 



THE FARMER'S MONTHLY VISITOR. 



inciiinbeiit strata niUBt have been forever kept 

 beyond our reach : nay, it is possible and higlily 

 probable that tliose elements of fertility which 

 most contribute to the products that sustain the 

 life of man and beast might never have appeared 

 upon the surface of our mother earth to make 

 the condition of animal life tolerable. 



Of the useless things in creation, I had taught 

 myself in early youth to consider ragged moun- 

 tains and hills as least of all valuable. Fastnesses 

 for the retreat of wild beasts, my first recollec- 

 tions almost identify them with the frightful cat- 

 amount that tore in pieces the man whom he was 

 able to carry into the limbs of some tree incum- 

 bent upon another half way in its fall — with the 

 bear who was said to carry off children with 

 which to feed her young — or with the voracious 

 wolf who would slay an entire flock of sheep 

 sometimes in a single night. If these mountains 

 were no longer a nuisance as harbors for wild 

 beasls, the obstacles which they presented to the 

 making of good and easy travelled roads con- 

 necting one i)art of the country with another — 

 the space which they occupied precluding that 

 easy cultivation which we were wont to see in 

 more level regions — gave them no better aspect 

 than that of incumbrances which must forever be 

 inconvenient to the population which surrounded 

 them. 



I have changed my mind entirely on this mat- 

 ter ; and if we may be said to grow wiser as we 

 grow older, I have just that kind of conceit of 

 myself which might call lor your rebuke if I am 

 now under a mistake. Perlt^ips you think, ladies 

 and gentlemen, of these mountains as I once 

 thought of them. With me when a child stub- 

 bing my toes against the rocks or carrying some 

 burden up the steep clifli, having dreamed of the 

 beauty of a level country where there was not a 

 rock or a hill in the way, you may have been 

 instructed into a poor opinion of our mountains. 



1 do not assume too much when I say to you 

 that there is not on eartli a more healthy region 

 than the mountain country of New England. 

 When the Asiatic cholera, which for several years 

 had been the terror of distant countries and 

 climes, having travelled from the tar east wester- 

 ly to Europe, first made its progress to this coun- 

 try, what points did it touch ? It may generally 

 be supposed that a cold country is a healthy 

 country ; but the rule did not apply to the chole- 

 ra. That terrible disorder first came from Eu- 

 rope to the St. Lawrence, and swept both shores 

 of that river from its mouth to its connexion with 

 the Lakes. And in what part of the coimtry did 

 it not appear in the memorable sutnmer and fall 

 of 18-32 ? It travelled from the east to the west 

 and the .=outli — on nil sides of our mountains, 

 but it touched no part of the granite soil of New 

 England. Tlie secondary and the tertiary re- 

 gions of Canada and the United Slates were eve- 

 ry where visited ; b\it the primary mountains and 

 hills of New England were untouched — the hor- 

 rible miasma did not even penetrate the valleys 

 which stood under the protection of our granite 

 rocks. The track of the cholera may be distinct- 

 ly marked along the valley of the St. Lawrence, 

 where as in the whole region of the South and 

 West there is a peculiar formation adapted to bil- 

 ious complaints, to the " chills and fevers." Tlie 

 action of the atmosphere on the subsoil of that 

 ground which is principally of vegetable forma- 

 tion produces disease : I have known whole fam- 

 ilies to be repeatedly attacked with deadly fevers 

 from being located near the exposed ground ta- 

 ken from the bed of a canal : in many parts of 

 the country in the autumnal months, hundreds of 

 laborers die fi-om the diseases contracted in ex- 

 halations from the exposed under soil in a taint- 

 ed atmosphere ; and the impurity of water drawn 

 from such a region generates a diseased system 

 which hurries its victim to a premature grave. 

 In such a soil as this the cholera prevailed and 

 was most fatal in the year 183'2 : it is in a coun- 

 try of this description that a greater proportion 

 of persons die when young. The mountain re- 

 gion of New England is almost entirely free from 

 those contagious diseases which sweep over the 

 country at each annual return of decayed vegeta. 

 tion. The pure water and the clear mountain 

 air give to her inhabitants as good, if not better 

 health than is enjoyed by any other people on 

 earth. This is the land of iron constitutions, of 

 noble and beautiful forms, of hearts of steel, of 

 boundl<>M resolution that h^eds no obstBcle of 



enterprise and perseverance which know no dis- 

 couragement. What part of the United States, 

 what city upon the Atlantic seaboard, what dis- 

 trict of country growing into wealth and respect- 

 ability in the interior, that is not indebted to New 

 England, to the beamiful hill country of New 

 England, for much of that noble spirit which has 

 hastened them on in the grand march of im- 

 [)rovement ? 



I have entirely changed my mind within the 

 last few years in relation to the most rough coun- 

 try of New England. So far from looking upon 

 the rocks, the pebbles, the gravel or the sand 

 composing them as so much matter in the way 

 adapted to no possible useful service, I see them 

 as the sources of that fertility which is sooner or 

 later destined to make the territory now compo- 

 sing the six New England States capable of sus- 

 taining ten times its present population. 



I will direct your attention to the " Crystal 

 Hills" or White Mountains, being the highest in 

 the United States east of the RocRy Mountain 

 chain. Our White Mountains, although not fre- 

 quently visited by strangers from the difficulty of 

 access until within a few years past, have already 

 become celebrated for their grand and beautiful 

 scenery. These mountains extend about twenty 

 miles from south-west to north-east : they are the 

 most elevated of the range of barrier moui 

 commencing with the Alleganies and broken 

 ihrouirh at various points by the waters of the 

 Potoiiiac, the Susquehanna, the Delaware, the 

 Hudson, the Connecticut and other rivers rim 

 ning into the Atlantic ocean from the north ; and 

 the base of the Crystal Hills, which are seven in 

 number, rising considerably above all others of 

 the range either to the east" or west, is about ten 

 miles broad. These hills are situated in a direct 

 line about seventy miles due north from Concord, 

 the capital of the State of New Hampshire, and 

 about eighty-two miles north-wost from Ports- 

 mouth, its only seaport. Although distant more 

 than sixty miles from the nearest part of the sea 

 coast, the snow-white sunmiit of Mount Wash- 

 ington is distinctly visible many leagues at sea: 

 the same mountain, looking by many others 

 which seem to be of equal elevation from their 

 nearness, is seen on the hills of Killingly in Con- 

 necticut, overlooking very nearly two hundred 

 miles down tiio length of New Hampshire and 

 entirely across the State of Massachusetts. The 

 highest point of Motmt Washington is 6i500 feet 

 above the level of the sea : the heights of the 

 moiuitains iit ]-rPsent bearing the names of Ad- 

 ams, Jeft'eriou, Madison, Monroe, Franklin and 

 Pleasant, whicli surround it and form the base 

 we have described. \ary from 53tSJ to 43.3!' fei-t. 



These mountains, unlike those of the Alps in 

 Europe and the Andes of South America, an? 

 not of sufficient elevation to encoimter the re- 

 gion of perpetual frost: of course in the milder 

 season of the year, in the months of July and 

 August, they are not only ascended without dan- 

 ger, but with no veiy great inconvenience from 

 the cold. Since path- ways have been cut sever- 

 al miles through the forest for travellers on horse 

 back to the foot of Mount Washington, ladies 

 can ascend that mountain and return on the same 

 day. 



As you ascend the mountains you encounter 

 the difierent climates of as many degrees of lat- 

 itude as every one hundred and fifly feet will di- 

 vide in their whole elevation. Near the foot you 

 find the larger growth of maple, beech and 

 birch — soon the black growth of hemlock and 

 spruce commences extending for a considerable 

 distance up the side of the mountain — as you rise 

 the growth of different perennials becomes less 

 and less : now you arrive at the gnarled larch ri- 

 sing to less than the height of man, bent down 

 and hugging the surface of the mountain as if 

 drawn by the warmth which the rays of the sun 

 throw upon the declining surface where they 

 strike. In the upper region of vegetation saving 

 the moss and lichens of meagre and scanty 

 growth which extend almost to the summits, is a 

 belt aroimd these mountains of some fifty rods 

 in extent indicating a change of climate within 

 the last twenty-five years which has caused veg- 

 etation to retreat that distance down the moun- 

 tains. The dwarfish trees, originally of the black 

 or perennial growth, are all dead and dry : few 

 of them are larger than a man's arm or wrist. 

 The hark has lefl them — they are crooked and 

 spread out like the antlers of a deer which they 



some instances resemble ; and they cover bo 

 ich of the ground as to render it quite difficult 



make your way among them. Above this 

 growth conmiences the space of the mountains 

 red with moss and lichens. Looking over 

 the surface of this bare space which commences 

 a little below the base upon which the cones of 

 the different mountains rest, the whole appears 

 like a large pasture of several thousand acres 

 over which cattle usually range. It seems to be 

 fitted for the abode of men and animals ; and you 

 look around as if the eye was in search of some 

 living being anticipating those associations which 

 every where meet us in cleared grounds prepared 

 tor the habitations of men and beasts. Nothing 

 but the breeze interrupts the stillness which sur- 

 rounds you : the vast pasture seems like a world 

 deserted : no chirping bird, no singing cricket or 

 grasshopper, not even the buzzing fly is heard in 

 all the region about. A pond of clear and trans- 

 parent water of nearly an acre rimning into an- 

 other of about two-thirds of the satne size, and 

 from this latter a stream falling dowTi the side of 

 the mountain tumbling over and over several 

 thousand feet below, and large enough to carry 

 extensive mills, lies at the foot of the cone ot 

 Mount Washington in a basin of the most eleva- 

 ted plateau : in the clear and deep waters of these 

 |)onds not a fish or miimow is to be discovered ; 

 and not even an in.sect, myriads of which are 

 usually seen about bodies of water on the civili- 

 zed earth below, can be detected over their sur- 

 face by the microscopic eye. 



In this and other elevated regions it would 

 hardly be suspected there was quite as much hu- 

 midity as we meet in the common cranberry beds 

 in meadows nearly upon a level with streams and 

 over which water brooks flow : the tread of the 

 feet upon the moss and lichens is like the tread 

 upon a moss meadow resting upon a water sur- 

 face — the feet sink into the covering and leave an 

 impression of the track as the groimd is passed 

 over. Upon this surface there grows a small ber- 

 ry in taste resembling the common cranberry, but 

 more tart and of much smaller size, upon a vine 

 of the cranberry species. The quantity of water 

 constantly retained upon or running from the 

 upper region of these high mountains is very far 

 greater than the quantity fidling upon and re- 

 tained upon the grounds below. The clouds rest- 

 ing upon the mountain tops are generally char- 

 ged with rain, snow or sleet, and tlie ((uantity dis- 

 charged from them is inmiense : in the winter the 

 depth of snow upon Mount Washington is far 

 greater than upon the ground near the base upon 

 which it stands. Indeed it is quite common up- 

 on the higher isolated mountains of New Eng- 

 land, upon the Wachiiscit, the 31onadnock, the 

 Moosehillock, and the Ascutney, of no more 

 than from three to four thousand feet elevation, 

 that the snow falls to the depth of a foot or more 

 when there is none in all the surrounding coun- 

 ti7. A cloud is seen to rest upon the mountain 

 all day from whicli it either rains or snows. In 

 the month of August 1836, in com[iany with oth- 

 er gentlemen, I ascended Mount Washington. 

 The day previous theie had been a rain, and in 

 the night the weather became clear with the wind 

 at north west. Next morning we went to the 

 mountains although the tops were covered with 

 clouds, hoping these would pass away by the 

 time we were prepared to ascend. We rose on 

 the mountain some three thousand feet, entering 

 upon tlie cloud as if we were going into a thick 

 volume of smoke or into a region of twilight. 

 As we continued to ascend, the cold increased. 

 The cloud was not like an ordinary thick fog: it 

 was mist, carried along by a forcible but exceed- 

 ingly uniform and steady breeze. It grew colder 

 as we advanced. We had summer heat at the 

 foot of the mountain ; but soon after coming into 

 the cloud the ice made, and before we arrived at 

 the top of the mountain our clothes were satura- 

 ted and frozen stiff. The cold upon the highest 

 elevation was intense — more severe than that of 

 the coldest sleet or snow storm of winter. The 

 ice made upon the side of the rocks more than 

 an inch thick increasing as the freezing mist was 

 blown against it. At the top of the mountain the 

 surface was slippery from ice, and we feared its 

 increase below so that we might be unable to de- 

 scend. It would have been hardly possible to 

 keep ourselves alive through the night if our pro- 

 gress down bad been arrested by the slippery ice. 

 The next morning we saw the mountain at the 



