Miscellaneous Notices of Mountain Scenery^ ^-c. 223 



giving you some account of the effects produced by the most 

 destructive fall of rain ever known in that region. It hap- 

 pened on the night of the 28th of August, which will be long 

 remembered in this part of the country. 



I left Hanover on Saturday last, in company with two 

 gentlemen of my acquaintance from the city of New-York, 

 and rode as far as Haverhill, where we all spent the Sab- 

 bath. 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 abund- 

 ant 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 continued 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 wagon as far as Bethlehem, fifteen miles 

 west of the White Mountains. As we approached the vicin- 

 ity of the mountains, the rain increased till it became a 

 storm, and compelled us to stop about the middle of the af- 

 ternoon. 



The storm continued most of the night ; but the next mor- 

 ning was clear and serene. The view from the hill of Beth- 

 lehem was extensive and delightful. In the eastern horizon^ 

 Mount Washington, with the neighboring 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 httle below its summit, while from behind this high- 

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

 the sun rolled up rejoicing in his strength and glory. We start- 

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

 hilerated by the beauty and grandeur of our prospect. As we 

 hastened forward with our eyes fixed on the tops of the moun- 

 tains 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 estab- 

 lishment begun by Rosebrook's father, as described in the 

 travels of Dr. Dwight. On entering this wilderness we 

 were struck with its universal stillness. From every leaf in 

 its immense masses of foliage the rain hung in large glitter- 



