To Monadnock; the records of a mountain in New Hampshire through three centuries, Part 12

Author: Nutting, Helen Cushing, compiler
Publication date: 1925
Publisher: [New York], [Stratford Press]
Number of Pages: 302


USA > New Hampshire > To Monadnock; the records of a mountain in New Hampshire through three centuries > Part 12


Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15


In the early autumn the goldenrods that then fill the land are represented on the mountain-top by numerous plants of the species Virga aurea, and perhaps of other species, usually only a few inches in height and with racemes quite large for the size of the plants. But at this season it is the berries that will be most remembered. The mountain is then a veritable "garden of berries," to quote once more from that poem which, as


206


THE FLORA OF MONADNOCK [1885]


Thomas Starr King says, has made Monadnock the noblest mountain in literature. Perhaps the first to catch the eye on emerging from the forest may be the great clusters of berries, white, red, or blue, according to the degree of advancement, born by the withe-rod (Viburnum nudum), a shrub having handsome cymes of white flowers in early summer; or the pretty red berries of Nemopanthes Canadensis, the "cheerful but modest mountain holly." Even without its berries, this low, much-branched shrub, with clean light-green leaves and ash-gray bark, is not likely to be unnoticed by him who observes the mountain flora. It is frequently to be found, and some- times forms dense thickets. One will probably not need to look far to find the large glossy-black choke-berries, astringent in taste; and near the summit the fruit of the cow-berry, the moun- tain cranberry, glows red among the shining leaves. But most refreshing to the thirsty climber are the very large blueberries that grow plentifully among the rocks; and the relish with which they may be eaten will not come entirely from the con- dition of the feaster, for there is a saying that the higher the bushes are the sweeter is the fruit, and Thoreau, I remember, says that the blueberries on Katahdin had the spicier flavor the higher they grew.


Beside the plants that have been mentioned, the red-berried elder and the small bush-honeysuckle-one flowering early in the season, the other throughout the summer-may occasionally be found; and the clintonia, with its two, three, or four oval leaves rising from the base, grows almost to the summit. A few willows may be seen; and, perhaps, rarely the high blackberry. But flowering plants other than those that have been mentioned will seldom be seen much above the forest. The common plan- tain, so abundant about dwellings, and the yarrow, so often seen in fields, though they are seldom if ever to be found else-


207


TO MONADNOCK


where on the top of the mountain, grow in somewhat sheltered spots on the very summit. They are just where picknickers most strew their egg-shells and chicken-bones; and one would judge that they had originated from seeds transported to the top of the mountain by visitors.


Monadnock is not of sufficient height to exhibit fully the transition from temperate to arctic regions. Yet, as one ascends along the path from the Mountain House, through the noble forest of yellow birches, and sees the trees gradually decrease in height and at length become dwarfs with spreading bushy heads, and finds the hardy spruces shrunk to low and stunted trees, and finally emerges on the bare crown of the mountain with only mosses and lichens and such vegetation as has been described, he may realize that one who ascends to one of our higher mountain summits has much the same opportunity for botanic study as he would have "if he made a journey to the north, passing first from the noble forests with which we are familiar, to those of stunted growth, and finally leaving them behind altogether, at length arriving at the barren and bleak regions beneath the Arctic Circle."


208


MONADNOCK FROM CHESTERFIELD [1886]


This sonnet, by the Rev. John White Chadwick, was published in 1886 in The Two Voices, Poems of the Mountain and the Sea, a little volume of poems by various authors, selected by Mr. Chadwick.


The merest bulge above the horizon's rim Of purplish blue which you might think a cloud Low-lying there,-that is Monadnock proud, Full seventy miles away. But far and dim Although it be, I still can without glass Descry, as I were standing happy there Upon the topmost ledges gray and bare, Something which with the shadows will not pass,- A vision that abides: a fair young girl Lying her length; her hair all disarrayed By the bold mountain wind ; her cheeks aglow ; As if that rocky summit should unfurl


A rose of June! And what if I had said, "Thrice fair Monadnock with her lying so!"


209


ACCURATE MOUNTAIN HEIGHTS [1886]


From an article in Appalachia, March 1886, by Edward C. Pickering, Professor of Astronomy at Harvard and Director of Harvard College Observatory.


Of the various methods of determining the height of a mountain, the best is undoubtedly that by running a line of levels to its summit. This method is accepted as the standard, and as that by which the errors of the other methods are to be judged. A surprising degree of accuracy can be attained in leveling an ordinary country. Many of the errors compensate, and the final results should generally be accurate within a small fraction of a foot. ..


The labor and cost of leveling prevent its general application to the determination of mountain heights. A few lines of level have been run up the hills and mountains in this portion of the country, generally by the enterprise and enthusiasm of volunteers. A description of several of these lines has been collected from various sources, generally from the local news- papers. The principal results are published below for perma- nent reference. . . As an example of the danger that such ma- terial may be totally lost, it may be mentioned that scarcely any of the results given below are contained in the excellent Dic- tionary of Altitudes in the United States recently published by the U. S. Geological Survey. . .


[The Dictionary of Altitudes in the United States published in 1884 gives the elevation of Monadnock as 3,718 feet, on the authority of Professor Arnold Guyot. "Nearly all the eleva- tions given under this authority," states the report, "were de- termined by barometer. They are of the highest character of this class of work."


The Dictionary of Altitudes in the United States published


210


1


ACCURATE MOUNTAIN HEIGHTS [1886]


in 1906 gives its height as 3,186 feet, as determined by the United States Coast and Geodetic Survey. "The elevations credited to this source," says the report, "are of two classes- one of triangulation stations whose heights have been deter- mined by refined trigonometric methods, the other of lines of precise leveling." The elevation of Monadnock was deter- mined by the former method.


Professor Pickering records for the height of Monadnock 3,169.3 feet, the result of a leveling by Mr. J. J. Holbrook. (For this leveling and for several others in the vicinity, see the New Hampshire Sentinel for November 22, 1877, a copy of which is available in the Keene Public Library.) ]


211


MONADNOC [1888]


From Monadnoc, a poem of over 150 stanzas by J. E. Nesmith of Lowell, Massachusetts; published in Monadnoc and Other Sketches in Verse, 1888.


From field and fold aloof he stands, A lonely peak in peopled lands, Rock-ridged above his wooded bands,


Like a huge arrow-head in stone, Or baffled stag at bay alone,- Round him the pack-like hills lie prone.


The gentle hours, in gradual flight, Weave round his huge impassive height A warp of gloom, a woof of light:


All day the purple shadows dream Along his slopes, or upward stream; And shafts of golden sunlight gleam. . .


The circle of the changing year Rounds slowly to the perfect sphere, His withered sides grow brown and sere. . .


The cold and blustering winds intrude In his steep glens, and strong and rude Follow their immemorial feud. . .


212


J. E. NESMITH [1888]


The winter brings her crystal swoon. . . The dazzling day, the steel-blue night, Bathe each bold crag and ice-capped height In zones and shafts of naked light. . .


When dreams of summer suns grow dim, New buds burn tender round his rim, The voice of Spring streams over him. . .


A thousand petty newborn rills Foam from the glens, whose music fills The cold recesses of the hills .. .


When earth forgets that man was born, Monadnoc still shall hail the morn, His aged crags not yet outworn.


He sits as when in moods of thought Men stare with vacant eyes at naught, Heedless of what around is wrought.


A Titan fallen from the stars He seems, here in celestial wars Hurled down, and seamed with fearful scars;


His brow upturned to that high realm Where erst he reared his radiant helm, And godlike rushed to overwhelm.


213


MONADNOCK IN OCTOBER [1888]


This poem, by Edna Dean Proctor, was published in The Atlantic Monthly for January 1888, and is here republished through the courtesy of Houghton Mifflin Company, who in the fall of 1925 will bring out a memorial edition of Miss Proctor's collected verse.


Uprose Monadnock in the northern blue, A glorious temple builded to the Lord ! The setting sun his crimson radiance threw On crest, and steep, and wood, and valley sward, Blending their myriad hues in rich accord, Till like the wall of heaven it towered to view. Along its slope, where russet ferns were strewn And purple heaths, the scarlet maples flamed, And reddening oaks and golden birches shone, Resplendent oriels in the black pines framed,- The pines that climb to woo the winds alone. And down its cloisters blew the evening breeze, Through courts and aisles ablaze with autumn bloom, Till the great minster thrilled to harmonies, Now soaring, dying now in glade and gloom. And with the wind was heard the voice of streams,- Ceaseless their Aves and Te Deums be, -- Lone Ashuelot murmuring down the lea, And brooks that haste where shy Contoocook gleams Through groves and meadows, broadening to the sea. Then holy twilight fell on earth and air, Above the dome the stars hung faint and fair, And the vast temple hushed its shrines in prayer ; While all the lesser heights kept watch and ward About Monadnock, builded to the Lord!


214


JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL AND MONADNOCK, 1890


From the Letters of James Russell Lowell edited by Charles Eliot Norton, by courtesy of Harper & Brothers, the pub- lishers (1893).


And take off your hat for me to Monadnock, the most high- bred of our mountains. There must be something rarely fine in the Ashfield landscape, it has stamped itself so on my mem- ory. I see it more clearly than many more familiar.


215


"GLIMPSEWOOD," 1890


This letter, written by Colonel Thomas Wentworth Higgin- son, August 16, 1890, tells of a purchase of land on Monadnock Lake in Dublin, New Hampshire. The original letter is now in Harvard College Library.


We are much pleased with our purchase. Monadnock Lake is perhaps twice as large as Fresh Pond in Cambridge; it is fringed entirely round with trees and often with real woods, and wooded hills rise from it. It is very clear and pure, cold, with a stony shore all round, no mud or meadow, and is fed by springs only. All the shores are now in private hands ex- cept a little at one end, and it is not likely to be injured. Our land (an acre and a half) goes down to it, but with a shady road crossing near the lake, as it does all round the lake. All our land is wooded except a cleared piece just about large enough for a house. We have many pines, spruces, birches, maples, beeches and aspens, and some fine moss-grown boulders. With a little clearing there will be a pretty view down the lake from the lower windows and a fine one from the upper ones- also from the latter a view of the top of Monadnock and (I think) of the Green Mountains. The house will be about forty feet above the lake. . . We shall begin building as soon as we can so as to occupy the house next summer.


216


KIPLING AND MONADNOCK [1892]


"For the honour of Monadnock" one afternoon there was made of New England snow by Rudyard Kipling an image of Gautama Buddha facing the Mountain. Kipling's essay, "In Sight of Monadnock," telling of this and other New England matters, has recently been published in this country in the volume, Letters of Travel.


217


"MONADNOCK" BECOMES A COMMON NOUN, 1894-


1894


From an article by William Morris Davis, Professor of Physical Geography at Harvard, published in The Nation of August 9, 1894.


I hope that other writers may follow the example of Messrs. Hayes and Campbell in their recent admirable account of the Southern Appalachians, and employ Monadnock as the generic term for all such residual mountains that rise over uplifted plateaus of denudation. The White Mountains appear to be simply a cluster of Monadnocks, preserved by some peculiarity of structure or drainage not yet fully explained.


1900


From Webster's International Dictionary, 1900, the Appendix.


monadnock, n. [From Mt. Monadnock, New Hampshire, a typical example.] Phys. Geog. A hill of resistant rock stand- ing in the midst of a peneplain.


1910-11


From The Encyclopaedia Britannica, 1910-11


Monadnock, a term derived from Mount Monadnock in New Hampshire, U. S. A., to denote the "isolated remnants of hard rock which remain distinctly above their surroundings in the late stages of an erosian cycle" (T. C. Chamberlain, R. D. Salisbury).


218


MOUNT MONADNOCK AND THE GREEN MOUNTAINS [1895]


This sonnet, from the New England Magazine of July, 1895, was written by Mary Chandler Jones, whose girlhood home was on one of the high hills in Marlborough (New Hamp- shire) looking to Monadnock.


.41


I know a mountain that stands all alone, King of the vassal hills which round him keep A waiting silence. Night and morning heap Their drifting mists of glory, zone on zone, About his shoulders till the cold gray stone Gives back the rosy splendor. Tempests sweep In idle fury round that crowned steep. O lonely monarch! Solitary throne! I wonder if he ever looks across To the far ranges in their restless climb Of summit after summit, longing so For nearer comradeship, though gained by loss To his own glory. To be strong, sublime, Alone,-is that the pleasure mountains know?


219


TWO MOUNTAINS [1895]


This poem, published originally in the New England Maga- zine of August 1895, is here republished by courtesy of the author, Richard Burton, now Professor of English at the Uni- versity of Minnesota.


Monadnock looms against the pale blue dome Of sky, a monarch crowned with cloud and sun; Massive the moods of this rock-ribbed one, In ways of God that seemeth most at home ; An archetypal art those contours made, An elemental brush the colors laid.


Type of New England, creature of her womb, Rugged yet beautiful, thy fearless front


Preaches old freedom, and her sturdy wont And purity and faith and living-room ; Fore-elder, thou, of simpler, saner days, When God meant prayer, and Fatherland meant praise. So Emerson, whose laud was made to thee In words of bardic wonder, was a peak


Sprung from the same dear soil, and fain to speak Faced skyward toward the heaven's clarity ; The same New England gave him goodly birth, The same large mood, the same untired earth.


Anak of hills that take the questing eye,


Great dominant thing in all this landscape wide,


'Twas meet that thou should'st thus be magnified By him, that strength to strength should make reply: Monadnock, moveless, whatsoe'er the wind, Like Emerson midst shifts of humankind.


220


THE GRAND MONADNOCK [1896]


By Edward W. Emerson, M.D., son of Ralph Waldo Emerson, from an article in the New England Magazine of September 1896, republished by courtesy of the author.


"A score of airy miles will smooth Rough Monadnoc to a gem,"-


but perhaps at five miles' distance the majesty of the mountain most asserts itself, and its changing aspects, all beautiful, are best enjoyed. Standing alone, commanding a region of lesser hills and meadows, its austere outlines clear of the forest growth which masks the features of most of our mountains, it is seen at its best from the towns of Fitzwilliam and Troy, which look on its most abrupt and bare crags. From Dublin, because of the height of the town and the fact that that ascent is more regular and at a less slope, which is wooded farther up, it is least imposing. From Jaffrey the lines are least agreeable, the northeast spur, because of its nearness, dwarfing the summit.


The mountain has a strange power of veiling and making himself mysterious even on bright days by spinning webs of haze about him, even below the huge knees, and thickening the woof until he is all but hidden even from the villages at his feet. Again the gauze is partially thinned and a fair gleam as of milk-weed or thistle-down comes from some inner fold. This diaphanous summer robe differs entirely from the thick muffling fold of cloud wrapped around the great shoulders during a storm. It is most subtile and fades away impercep- tibly into the surrounding air. Yet the mountain is more shrouded by it than farther objects and evidently has power to draw these gleaming hazes in greater quantity to him. At sun- set of an exceptionally clear day following a showery time this bald old giant puts on a soft, rosy-white cap and plume. His


221


TO MONADNOCK


cold, stone forehead condenses this out of the passing air, sat- urated with moisture as it approaches from the windward, and on the leeward side the cloud melts again as fast as it floats beyond his cold influence. At these times the peak looks like a smoking volcano. The cloud is still and constant; the par- ticles are continually renewed.


Between the great stone knees to the south and east is the sweep of the ascending forest of dark spruce and light birches, a lap with all the festooning folds and curved radiations that the great sculptors have known how to use so well, harmonizing but not concealing the great structural lines. The colors melt and change with the light and season, but in summer remind one of a Highland plaid of the darker type, where blue and green tones are harmonized by a little purple. Two effects are interesting when a great cloud covers the summit: first, atten- tion is called to the great breadth of the base, and, second, an indefinite height is suggested. A great Sphinx's head might well be wrapped in that veil, the mountain's shape as seen from the hill between Rindge and Fitzwilliam strongly suggesting a stone lion's body with outstretched paws.


What is the subtle charm of three whethers in theology, in trilogy of drama, in triads, in three voices for the ear, three primary colors for the eye, the triangle in mathematics, in archi- tecture, in magic-three in one in so many forms, from the Trinity to the fresh trillium from the woods? The faint blue triangle of Monadnock when we reach it has become a mighty mass, a unit, yet plainly divisible into three zones,-first, the skirts of pasture land; second, the shoulders mantled by forests of varied green; and, third, the purple ledges that form the head. . .


The pastures have greater picturesqueness and variety than


222


EDWARD W. EMERSON [1896]


the forest zone. . ,the rocks gray-green or lilac in the sun and blue-gray in shadow, or rusty if the ground has been burned over. The transmitted light makes the fern-beds glow in their fair green-in the autumn they will turn through cream-color to brown-while in the deep folds of the land, groups of spruces with their strong dark green give the necessary support to the lighter color scheme. One recalls Virgil's two words in the "Eclogues" for these types of green, viridis and nigra.


In the deeper folds you hear water tinkling, and the brooks coming down from the mountain will usually be marked out in the pastures by a little ribbon of trees. Climbing up on a hot day, your shoes slippery with the grass, you will find the true hospitality of the mountain along these little streams, which give you perfect water to drink, good footing along the rocks of their bed, a little shade, and lunches of the best of strawberries, raspberries or blackberries, according to the month. On the way up, unless there is an unusual drouth, you will find deeper shaded pools in which you can have a bath that will make your skin tingle, and you glad that you were hot enough to enjoy it. . .


Suddenly you hear the lowing of cattle, and coming over a rise find a herd, which very probably came up in spring from your own town, ill-conditioned and caked with filth after a winter in the stanchions. Now see how vigorous and clean they are; washed by rain and brushed by wind and birch trees, each hair gleaming and the tassels of their tails curling glori- ously. See the colors, dark-red with purple shadows, burnt- wood color, black with high lights reflecting the sky, or gleam- ing cream-white patches. These graze the sweet, short grass or lie in the fern or group in the cool woods, the square bell telling of their whereabouts. . .


Where pasture and forest meet one may, and almost surely


223


TO MONADNOCK


will, rest at the little tavern [the Mountain House]. . . Now, the outworks won, we attack the main fort, the steep forest- clad slopes culminating in the craggy citadel. The adventurous may do this by tracing up a brook, perhaps the more interesting way, and having the advantage of the refreshment. . . which the cool and tinkling water offers. Or one may go more easily and with more refreshing air (for the woods are close) up along one of the great spurs ; or more obviously and better, if strength and time are to be saved, up the path from the hotel. This at some seasons becomes a water course in storms, though not a real valley. The loose stones and outcropping ledge are some- what denuded of vegetable soil and there is at least a firm footing, though the scramble is steep and taxes the wind, espe- cially if one carries a backload. This old path was greatly improved by the United States Coast Survey, in 1861, when their heavy instrument had to be carried to the summit, and their extensive camp equipment half way up. Between the rocky spurs the leaf-mould and finer soil accumulates, and here the deciduous trees, requiring a better soil than the spruces, thrive. On the lower edges of the zone are fine beeches and maples and large red oaks. Black and canoe birches are there, but especially yellow birches. On the edge of the wood one of these has coiled its gleaming trunk like a python around a spruce and actually sunk itself into the bark. Perhaps the resinous quality of birch-bark, which causes it to burn readily even when wet, makes it feel affinity for a conifer. The bril- liancy and health of the foliage of all these trees is a pleasure to see. . . On the higher ledges to the right of the path all de- ciduous growth disappears, leaving a rather melancholy forest of the larger spruces, black and white, here and there a balsam- fir and occasionally a stunted white-pine. . . As one climbs higher the trees grow smaller, the oaks and beeches give place to the mountain-ash, the rowan-tree of Scotland. . .


224


EDWARD W. EMERSON [1896]


You may have the luck here to see a strange creature climbing a birch tree and, startled for a moment by its resemblance to a young bear, look anxiously around for its proud parent. A second look shows you that in spite of its formidable claws the creature is only a great Canada porcupine. If your dog dis- covers him scuttling among the bushes, he will presently return to you howling, his mouth turned into a pincushion. Rabbits and foxes live here too, thrushes of various kinds, and vireos, and you often flush a partridge.


After a short, sharp scramble one rises above the trees, feels the high, cool air, and suddenly astonished, has to raise his head through an arc of many degrees to see the edge of the blue wheel of the world below, which seems to rise around him.


You are now at the head of a stairway of rough blocks built by the Coast Survey up a very steep part of the path where it emerges from the woods, and happily here is a spring where you will rest and enjoy the sights up and down and the fine air. The forest as seen from above is very interesting, especially the beautiful heads of the mountain ash. Above you tower the rocks, perhaps seven hundred feet to climb before you reach the top; their actual height enhanced by the fact that just where they come against the sky their edges, which should be softened by reflected light, are emphasized by the growth of black tripe de roche lichen. . .


Hitherto you have had the toil of climbing; now comes its delight. Cheered by the great outlook, fanned by the cool breeze, with good square footing on slabs instead of slippery black soil and stumbling blocks, you feel the joy of battle with- out its danger, as you carry with a rush, or flank by zig-zags these stone rifle-pits, scarps and bastions of superb regularity and strength, with faces as clear cut as if planned by Vauban himself. For at the point where we come above the tree-line the construction of the mountain shows best. It is simple and


225


TO MONADNOCK


grand, and in detail is but a repetition of the outline as seen from the east-southeast on the hills near Boston, viz., a long, smooth slope north, and a steeper, broken one to the south. As may be seen in the report on the Geology of New Hamp- shire by Dr. Charles T. Jackson, a great layer of gneiss and mica-slate overlies a mass of older porphyritic granite heaved up from below. The dip of the strata is to the northward, hence the edges crop out on the south and make a series of giant stairs a little tilted backward. The great glacier which once covered the country, moving from the northward as it slid over the mountain ridge, using it as a foot-scraper, rudely sand-papered the ledges, thus bevelling their sharper edges. . . This dip of the rocks is a sure guide to one lost in the cloud, an adventure which may easily happen on the mountain. By following the long even slope he will go down in the direction of Dublin and by going down the tilted steps he will shortly come out on the Troy side, where is the Mountain House.




Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.