Miscellaneous Notices of Mountain Scenery, ^c. 219 



of Saturday, we came on thirty miles, through noble alpine 

 regions, and much pine forest, to this place, where we have 

 passed the sabbath quietly at a comfortable inn, as the swell- 

 ing of the Saco, which is between us and the place of wor- 

 ship, rendered it impossible to cross. 



To-morrow we proceed, and expect to lodge the suc- 

 ceeding night at Crawford's, thirty five miles from this place, 

 and beyond the Notch. It is the place whence travellers 

 usually ascend the mountains. 



At the younger Crawford's, White Mountaia Post Office, thirty five miles from 

 Conway, and west of the Notch in the Mountains, Monday, May 19, 9 P.M. 



We are safe here, and have this day passed the grandest 

 scenes that I have any where seen. The whole day's ride, 

 in an open wagon, has been in the winding defile of moun- 

 tains, which probably have not their equal in North America, 

 until we reach the Rocky Mountains. The portion of the 

 Notch which is the grandest, is about five or six miles in 

 length ; it is composed of a double barrier of mountains, ri- 

 sing very abruptly from both sides of the wild roaring river 

 Saco, which frequently washes the feet of both barriers ; and 

 sometimes there is not room for a single carriage to pass be- 

 tween the stream and the mountains ; but the road is cut 

 into the mountain itself. Imagine this double barrier, rising 

 on each side, to the height of nearly half a mile in perpendic- 

 ular altitude, often exceeding this height, and capped here 

 and there, by proud castellated turrets, standing high above 

 the continued ridges ; these are not straight, but are formed 

 into numerous zigzag turns, which frequently cut off the 

 view, and seem to imprison you in a vast, gloomy gulf. But 

 the most remarkable fact remains to be stated. 



The sides of the mountains are deeply furrowed and scar- 

 red, by the tremendous effects of the memorable deluge of 

 August 28th, 1826. I will recal to your recollection, the 

 awful catastrophe, which, on the night succeeding that day, 

 destroyed, in a moment, the worthy Willey family, nine in 

 number, and left not one to tell their painful story. For two 

 seasons before, the mountains had been very dry, and on 

 the morning of August 28th, it commenced raining very 

 hard, with strong tempestuous wind ; the storm lasted 

 through that day and the succeeding night, and when it 

 ceased, the road was found obstructed by innumerable ava- 

 lanches of mountain ruins, which rendered it impossible to 



