Part 7
Six miles from the base of Mount Washington, is one of the most complete establishments of its kind in all the mountain region, having accommodations for five hundred guests. It is situated on a beautiful intervale, at an elevation of more than fifteen hundred feet above sea level, and its piazzas afford a fine view of the White Mountain range. It is also a central point from which excursions are made to the various resorts within easy reach by rail or carriage. The traveler may find, in this vicinity, an opportunity to enjoy a relic of the “good old days” of stage-coaching, which the railway has not succeeded in entirely abolishing, although it has largely superseded the conveyance once so popular in the mountain region.
THE ASCENT OF MOUNT WASHINGTON.
From the Fabyan House, the railroad has been extended to the base of Mount Washington, there connecting with the wonderful elevated railway to the summit, thus forming a continuous all-rail line to the realm above the clouds. The six miles of road to the base of the mountain compasses some of the steepest grades known to railroad engineering. A powerful engine, of the six-drive-wheel construction, is required to propel a very moderate load of passengers, and as it laboriously puffs along the grades, the forests echo and re-echo with the sound, while the traveler feels thankful that the iron horse, instead of flesh and blood, is being employed in his service.
Mt. Pleasant Hotel is passed a short distance from Fabyan’s, and a short distance from here are the WILD AMMONOOSUC FALLS, a natural curiosity well worthy of a visit. The river descends “about fifty feet, in a broken, irregular way, and in some places has worn curious channels in the rocks, resembling a cauldron, in which the water seethes and boils in its downward course, and issues laughing, singing and leaping in its wild and merry race for the intervales below.”
THE MOUNT WASHINGTON RAILWAY is one of the wonders of modern engineering skill. It was chartered by the Legislature of New Hampshire, in 1858, the passage of the bill being regarded as the huge joke of the session, one member offering to amend it by “extending it to the moon,” either terminal being regarded as equally liable to become a fact. In spite of obstacles, however, its construction was successfully accomplished, by the combined ingenuity of the projector and inventor, Sylvester Marsh, the mechanical skill of Walter Aiken, who built the engine and cars, and the financial aid and “push” of friendly individuals and interested railway companies. It was completed in 1869, and has carried thousands up and down the mountain without the slightest injury to any, so complete is the system of safety appliances in use, each independent of the other, and any one sufficient in itself to insure complete safety. The writer was once an eye-witness to the severest test to which it has ever yet been subjected, caused by the breakage of one of the gear driving wheels of the locomotive. The resultant disarrangement of the machinery set in operation the automatic safeguards, producing the effect of instantly holding the train to the track as firmly as though it had been bolted to the solid rock. Indeed, it was with no little difficulty that it was liberated, and enabled to proceed.
The accompanying illustration gives a good idea of the operation of the road. In addition to the ordinary rails of the common railroad, there is a toothed rail midway between, in which there “meshes” the geared wheel attached to the axle of the locomotive, which thus steadily _climbs_ up the mountain by the revolution of the machinery. All the axles, both of the engine and passenger coach, are provided with geared wheels, by means of which the train could be instantly anchored to the track, as in the case above cited. Each car has its own locomotive, and will carry about fifty passengers. The seats are inclined backward, so as to be in a good position on ascending the mountain. The car is always above the engine, both in the ascent and descent. The latter is accomplished by gravitation alone, the brakes being kept in requisition to hold the train in check.
The ride up the mountain constitutes an experience never to be forgotten. Leaving Ammonoosuc Station, as the starting point at the base is called, the train immediately surmounts a considerable elevation before emerging from the forest, which is soon left behind as we rise above the “tree-line,” and reach the region of stunted shrubs, which in turn give place to moss and lichens, and finally to rocks, bare of vegetation, and as cheerless as it is possible to imagine. Above the trees, the prospect broadens, as the landscape spreads out in a grand panorama, almost illimitable, and of wonderful grandeur and beauty. Several stops are made for water, which is taken from large tanks fed by mountain springs, far above, and conducted down in pipes. These stopping places have been appropriately named, according to their location, such as Waumbek Station, Gulf Station, etc., the latter being near the yawning chasm in the mountain-side, named the GULF OF MEXICO. Banks of snow may frequently be seen in its recesses, even in midsummer, and a game of snowballing is not an uncommon August recreation.
JACOB’S LADDER is a long section of trestle work, with a considerable elevation and steep inclination, after passing which the grade diminishes somewhat, as the road winds around the crown of the mountain.
Near the summit is a pile of rocks surmounted by a tablet, known as the “Lizzie Bourne Monument,” marking the spot where the young lady perished from exposure, in September, 1855; having undertaken the ascent of the mountain in company with two male relatives, without a guide, and becoming chilled and bewildered, she lost her way, and despairingly sank down to die almost in sight of the summit.
Nearing the summit, the view changes, as the scenery of the eastern side comes in view. The highlands of Maine are now the background of the picture, with intervening valleys, lakes and rivers, while far below, the white buildings of the Glen House dot the landscape as a mere speck in the lovely valley in which they nestle.
The trip from base to summit occupies about an hour and a quarter, the distance being three miles, with an average grade of 1,300 feet to the mile, the most abrupt ascent being in the proportion of one foot in three. An approximate idea of this grade may be had by placing a yard-stick upon a level surface, as a table, and raising one end of it a foot, with the other end upon the table. Then imagine a train of cars climbing such an ascent, and you have a fair conception of the grade; but the most vivid imagination would fail to take in the sensations actually experienced in the journey.
THE MOUNT WASHINGTON SUMMIT HOUSE.
The provisions for the entertainment of guests at the summit were formerly very limited, a few rude stone structures furnishing shelter for such as dared brave the hardships of a night in the clouds. But now all is changed. The capacious and comfortable building which serves the double purpose of depot and hotel, not only provides comfortable shelter, but a first-class table and excellent fare for about one hundred and fifty guests. The house was opened to the public in 1873, and has been in successful operation since, sometimes being taxed to its utmost capacity.
The view from the summit is indescribably grand. At an altitude of 6,193 feet, or more than a mile and one-fifth above sea-level, the line of vision bounds a circle nearly a thousand miles in circumference; and within that circle are lakes, rivers, mountains, valleys, dark forests, smiling villages, and in fact a variety of scenery, ever changing as the gaze is directed to the different points of the compass. In a clear day, the distant glimmer of the Atlantic may be seen, away to the southeast. A little more to the south a brighter gleam reveals the location of Lake Winnipesaukee, while the Saco valley and Chocorua Mountain are in the nearer foreground. Turning still to the right, you see other mountains of the range on whose highest summit you are standing, Mount Monroe, the Twin Ponds, Mount Pleasant, Mount Franklin, Mount Willey, the scene of the famous “slide,” and lesser elevations beyond.
Westward, away in the dim distance, the horizon is broken by the Green Mountains of Vermont, with an occasional view of the remote Adirondacks in New York; while nearer, you see the valley of the Ammonoosuc, the Fabyan House, Bethlehem, Mount Lafayette, and the expanse of forest which fills the picture. To the northwest, the villages of Littleton, Jefferson and Lancaster appear, while in the distance, to the north, the table lands of Canada unite with the sky in bounding the horizon. To the northeast, the eye reaches to the unbroken forests of Maine. Mount Katahdin throws its dim outline against the sky, while in the foreground Mounts Jefferson, Adams and Madison tower grandly up before you as a grim body-guard to Washington. Nestled in the glen, the white hotel buildings of the Glen House establishment are visible; while near at hand, toward the southeast, Mount Jackson appears, and in the distance, the Pequaket or Kiarsarge may be seen, together with Sebago Lake in Maine.
SUNRISE ON MOUNT WASHINGTON.
The grand, culminating view from this lofty point of observation is to be had at the rising of the sun. For this incomparable prospect you must spend a night among the clouds, and perchance more than one night, as nature is fickle at that altitude as well as in the valleys below, and not unfrequently “old Sol” has half a forenoon’s work before him to dispel “the mists of the morning” before his face is visible to the watchers on the summit. Should you be favored, however, with both a clear sunrise and sunset in one day, as was the writer on the occasion of his first visit, you will cherish in the chambers of memory the most enchanting pictures of a lifetime. Sunset at sea has awakened the lyre of many a poet, and inspired the pencil of many a painter; but neither pen nor pencil can give an adequate picture of the beauties of a sunrise as viewed from the summit of Mount Washington.
At early dawn the inmates of the house are roused, and such as choose arise and dress, and take their position on the platform east of the building, to watch for the first appearance of the “golden orb of day.” Beneath you the valleys are still in slumber, and a deep gloom is spread over all, in sharp contrast with the light of dawn which already illumines the mountain peaks around you. Banks of mist here and there indicate the location of bodies of water, and possibly overhanging clouds may partially hide some of the mountain summits from view.
All eyes are turned expectantly towards the east, which is beginning to show a faint rosy tinge, deepening every moment till it reaches a crimson or perhaps a golden hue, a fitting couch from which the brilliant day king is about to spring forth to enter upon his glorious reign. Suddenly one point in the eastern horizon grows more intensely bright than all the rest, and the disc of the sun is then discernible, quickly increasing in proportions until the broad face of the great luminary so dazzles the eye as to compel a withdrawal of the gaze.
Looking then into the valleys below, the effect is transcendently beautiful. While the spectator is bathed in the full golden sunshine, the somber shadows are just beginning to flit away, presenting in the strongest possible manner the contrasts of light and shade; and not until some minutes have elapsed, does the new-born day reach down into the deepest valleys to drive forth the lingering remnants of night.
The view of the mountain peaks around, as, one after another, according to their height, they are touched by the rays of the rising sun, is very beautiful; and even the dullest mind can scarcely resist the enthusiastic inspiration awakened by the scene. And then, as the sun mounts steadily upward, giving heat as well as light with his cheering rays, the mists below are slowly dispelled, and nature puts on her most bewitching countenance, with her gloomy frowns banished, supplanted by the sweetest smiles.
Such is but a faint description of a sunrise witnessed by the writer. The picture will vary with the changing circumstances, and that which it may be the reader’s fortune to behold, though entirely unlike it, may be none the less beautiful and enchanting.
The old Tip-Top and Summit Houses still stand, together with the buildings of the U. S. Signal Service, the ticket-office and station of the Glen House stage line, with its stables, and the engine house of the railway. The office of _Among the Clouds_, a daily paper, occupies the old Tip-Top House; and in the Signal Service building a band of resolute men brave the rigors of winter in the interests of science, recording the temperature, the velocity of the wind, etc. With the thermometer at fifty degrees below zero, and the wind blowing with a velocity of one hundred and fifty miles an hour, it must require nerves of steel and a hardy constitution to survive the ordeal.
The old bridle path from the Crawford House to the summit is still employed by those who wish to make the ascent, as in the “good old days,” but the favorite method, next to the railroad trip, is by the
GLEN HOUSE STAGE LINE.
The road is eight miles in length, and by skillful engineering has been so built as to rise, on an average, only about one foot in eight, the steepest place being one foot in six, and that for a short distance only, rendering the ascent easy and comfortable. Passengers by way of Gorham, on the Grand Trunk, reach the summit by this method, and then have the privilege of descending by rail on the other side.
TUCKERMAN’S RAVINE, an immense seam in the side of Mount Washington, may be explored from the summit, or by following up the stream which takes its rise in this gorge. The chasm is filled to a great depth by the snows of winter, which, in the process of melting, form beautiful arches, sometimes visible till late in the summer.
Returning to the base, we are again at the Fabyan House, from which point we may make excursions in various directions, the excellent livery in connection furnishing carriages and trusty drivers, who will act as guides, and give interesting information to those in their charge.
Before proceeding in our onward journey toward the sea, let us retrace our steps for a visit to the famous FRANCONIA VALLEY.
_Franconia Notch._
From Bethlehem station, as previously mentioned, the Profile & Franconia Notch Railroad extends to this resort, which is one of the most popular in the White Mountain region. Its crowning attraction is the celebrated Profile, so widely known as “THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN.” This colossal copy of the human face is to be seen on the southern side of Profile Mountain, with bold and high forehead, straight nose, slightly parted mouth, and prominent chin. From forehead to chin, the face measures some eighty feet, and the elevation is some fifteen hundred feet above Profile Lake, which, from its location, is sometimes called “The Old Man’s Mirror,” and “The Old Man’s Washbowl.”
PROFILE HOUSE, an elegant and roomy hotel, with accommodations for five hundred guests, is not the least attractive feature of the neighborhood, its great popularity often filling it to overflowing, even before the railroad made it so easy of access. Messrs. Taft & Greenleaf, the proprietors, are among the most successful hotel managers in all the region.
MOUNT LAFAYETTE, the highest peak of the Franconian range, has an altitude of 5,259 feet, and the view from the summit is regarded as second only to that from Mount Washington. The ascent is made by bridle path from the Profile House, where horses, guides, etc., are to be found at the service of the tourist. A building at the summit affords shelter from inclement weather, or the severe winds which sometimes prevail at such an elevation.
EAGLE CLIFF, a huge crag, with precipitous front, towers up to the height of fifteen hundred feet, directly in front of the hotel. A pair of eagles made it their home for some years, until driven away by the curiosity of explorers. A fine view of the Cliff is to be had from ECHO LAKE, which nestles at its base, and is one of the most charming little bodies of water to be found. The blast of a horn, or the report of a small cannon, fired at intervals to “wake the echoes,” reverberates against the sides of the Cliff and the rocky walls which environ the lake, with a succession of sharp and distinct repetitions, growing fainter and fainter, and finally dying away among the far-off cliffs, with an effect as beautiful as it is surprising.
The Profile House stands at the gateway of the Notch, the approach being from the north. On either side of the gorge, the Franconia range extends in a southerly direction. Lafayette, Lincoln and Liberty on the east, Profile. Kinsman and Pemigewasset on the west, with several lesser peaks and spurs, the valley gradually descending to the south, and widening in the descent, until it expands into the Valley of the Pemigewasset.
Three miles from the Profile House, a path diverges from the road near a small brook, and a walk of half a mile brings to view a succession of picturesque waterfalls, which have received the name of WALKER’S FALLS. A half mile further south is the BASIN, a curious granite reservoir, about forty feet across, and twenty-eight feet deep, in which the waters make a gyratory turn, after the whirlpool order.
Five miles from the Profile House, near the lower gateway of the Notch, is the FLUME HOUSE, so named from its proximity to the rocky ravine, between whose walls the Great Boulder is suspended, as though ready to fall at the slightest provocation. As these pages are being printed, the telegraph brings the news that the ravine has been choked by an avalanche, and the fall of the boulder is reported. When the book is in the hands of its readers, the correctness of the report will have been determined, but at this writing it cannot be verified.
The Pool, the Cascades, Georgianna Falls, Mount Pemigewasset, and other objects of interest, are to be visited from the Flume House. A stage route extends from the Profile House to Plymouth, _via_ the Pemigewasset, and before the completion of the railroad from Bethlehem, was the principal method of conveyance to this locality.
It is still a favorite with many travelers, being, as above indicated, a direct route to PLYMOUTH, a favorite resort on the Boston, Concord, & Montreal Railroad. Those wishing to reach Boston by this route may connect by stage with the trains at Plymouth, or, returning to Bethlehem, may take the trains of this road, which run _via_ Wing Road, Littleton, Warren, Wells River, Plymouth and Lake Winnipesaukee, to Concord, thence by Concord, Lowell & Boston Railroad, to the metropolis of New England. This is a popular route between Boston and the mountains, and is very largely patronized in the summer.
Near Warren, on this line, is MOOSILAUKE, a mountain peak of some celebrity, which from its comparatively isolated position, affords a very fine view from its summit. The town boasts of _fifty miles_ of trout streams, and several excellent hotels provide good accommodations for such as desire to “drop the line,” or spend a season in recreation.
THE PEMIGEWASSET HOUSE, at Plymouth, is the dining station of the B. C. & M. R. R., and has an almost national reputation for the excellence of its cuisine. It is also a favorite summer resort hotel.
The beautiful LAKE WINNIPESAUKEE is reached at Weirs Station and Steamboat Landing. This sheet of water, irregular in its boundaries, studded with hundreds of islands, and bordered by some of the finest scenery in the world, has obtained almost a world-wide fame, being visited by thousands of tourists every season. Weirs Station is on the western shore; and within a few years has become celebrated as the location of a permanent camp-ground, occupied in turns by the Methodists, the Unitarians, and the Grand Army of the Republic. Several hotels and summer boarding houses have been built to accommodate the increasing demands of tourists who wish to tarry by the margin of the lake, and enjoy its lovely scenery, and bathe and fish in its waters, or ride over its surface among its myriad islands. Center Harbor, on its north shore, Wolfboro on the east, and Alton Bay on the south, are all well-known summer resorts, and the ride between these points by steamer constitutes a delightful trip. Two boats of considerable size, the “Lady of the Lake,” owned by the Boston, Concord & Montreal Railroad, and the “Mount Washington,” the property of the Boston & Maine Railroad, together with several smaller craft, constitute the flotilla; and their frequent trips among the islands and between the principal ports just mentioned afford opportunity to enjoy the attractions of Winnipesaukee, and to realize the significance of its Indian title, which is translated “Smile of the Great Spirit.”
The “Weirs” takes its name from having formerly been the location of the fish-weirs of the aborigines, whence an unlimited supply of food was drawn, in the days before the shriek of the locomotive, or even the crack of the stage-driver’s whip, broke the stillness of the adjacent forests.
From Weirs Station the route to Boston is _via_ Concord, Manchester, Nashua, and Lowell.
_White Mountain Notch._
The route from Fabyan House to Portland extends through this famous pass, over the PORTLAND & OGDENSBURG RAILROAD; and the ride is one of the most delightful trips by rail to be afforded east of the Rocky Mountains, and with the exception of the ascent to the summit of Mount Washington, is the grandest and most impressive. The railway itself is a wonder, overcoming, in its construction, obstacles that might appall the stoutest-hearted engineer. Running here upon a lofty trestle, clinging now to the side of a mountain, winding around the base of some overhanging cliff, again bridging some mountain stream far above its bed, it threads its devious way through the pass, abolishing the fatigue and hardship incident to mountain visiting, and affording a panoramic view of scenery unsurpassed for variety, novelty and grandeur.
The trip through the Notch is made in OBSERVATION CARS, which are attached to all trains. These are open at the sides, and provided with revolving arm chairs, thus affording an outlook in all directions, adding materially to the pleasure of the journey. The first five miles accomplished, and we are at
THE CRAWFORD HOUSE,