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A Book of the United States.
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Illustration: Hall of Representatives ... Washington.
Illustration: Bridge and Rapids near Falls of Niagara.
Illustration: (‡ U.S. Presidents)
A
BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES.
EXHIBITING ITS
GEOGRAPHY, DIVISIONS, CONSTITUTION, AND GOVERNMENT;
INSTITUTIONS, MANNERS AND CUSTOMS,
AGRICULTURE, FINE ARTS,
COMMERCE, ANTIQUITIES,
MANUFACTURES, LITERATURE,
RELIGION, MINERALOGY,
EDUCATION, BOTANY,
POPULATION, GEOLOGY,
NATURAL CURIOSITIES, NATURAL HISTORY,
RAILROADS, PRODUCTIONS,
CANALS, &c. &c. &c.
PUBLIC BUILDINGS,
AND PRESENTING
A VIEW OF THE REPUBLIC GENERALLY,
AND OF THE
INDIVIDUAL STATES;
Illustration: View on the Mississippi.
TOGETHER WITH A CONDENSED
HISTORY OF THE LAND,
FROM ITS FIRST DISCOVERY TO THE PRESENT TIME.
THE BIOGRAPHY
OF ABOUT TWO HUNDRED OF THE LEADING MEN:
A DESCRIPTION OF THE
PRINCIPAL CITIES AND TOWNS;
WITH
STATISTICAL TABLES,
RELATING TO THE RELIGION, COMMERCE, MANUFACTURES,
AND VARIOUS OTHER TOPICS.
EDITED BY
GRENVILLE MELLEN
WITH ENGRAVINGS OF CURIOSITIES, SCENERY, ANIMALS,
CITIES, TOWNS, PUBLIC BUILDINGS, &c.
HARTFORD:
PUBLISHED BY A. C. GOODMAN & CO.
1852.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1839, by
GRENVILLE MELLEN,
in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.
PREFACE.
IN presenting this volume to the American public, the introductory
remarks in which we shall indulge will be few and general, as the book
is one of that kind that speaks with singular plainness for itself,
and seems to us to require little upon the prefatory page in the way
of explanation, either with reference to its character considered
collectively, or in detail.
The chief object in preparing this work has been to furnish something
which should be found to embrace those subjects which are of abiding
interest and importance to all classes. It has been a wish to present
such matters, as well as could be done in the compass allowed, as are
of interest to all classes of readers, and an acquaintance with which
is desirable for our own citizens especially.
Directed by these intentions, it is hoped that the efforts to bring
a valuable and attractive volume before the public may have proved
successful; and that, viewed with reference to the subjects of which
it treats, this may be called, emphatically, a book for this country,
exhibiting, at one view, a picture of the Republic in its physical,
political, and social conditions, so drawn and colored as to present
in pleasant relief its most striking and peculiar features.
Simplicity was a leading object in the preparation of the work. By
such object it was natural to be guided, when it was remembered that
the pages were designed for the general eye and for all classes. This
quality was allowed to govern, in a great degree, both in the thought
and style; and if, in any case, it may have been carried to a point
beyond the fortunate one, it will be believed, we presume, that the
fault, if it be such, is upon the better side.
In some instances interesting historical accounts are retained
and enlarged upon, from a consideration of the universally popular
character which such accounts generally possess. It is not known,
however, that they are referred to or dwelt upon in such a manner as
to induce the charge of credulity beyond that very pardonable degree
which all well disposed and good natured, and we may add, well informed,
writers and readers are ever ready to meet.
Frequent references are made to able and prominent writers, in
connection with the several important subjects which are here
introduced; and such extracts are given, as, it is thought, will best
illustrate and enforce them. This course, with most readers, is an
acceptable one, and in a work of this nature it is the best that can
be pursued, frequently, to accomplish, within reasonable limits, the
design of the undertaking.
To enlarge would seem to be useless. The volume must speak for
itself, and bear its recommendation within. It is hoped, with the
several sketches of the Republic which it intends to present, under
its different aspects, it may prove an agreeable and instructive one
to the community.
We had intended to have annexed a list of the writers consulted
and extracted from in the course of the volume; but we believe
the references in the pages will supersede the necessity of a more
particular notice. It would be unjust, however, not to mention our
especial obligation to the excellent View of the United States by
Mr. Hinton, of which we have made the freest use throughout the volume.
New York, June, 1839.
CONTENTS.
PART I.
PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY.
CHAP. I. Mountains
CHAP. II. Valleys
CHAP. III. Prairies and Plains
CHAP. IV. Rivers
CHAP. V. Cataracts and Cascades
CHAP. VI. Lakes
CHAP. VII. Springs
CHAP. VIII. Caverns
CHAP. IX. Islands
CHAP. X. Capes and Peninsulas
CHAP. XI. Bays, Harbors, Sounds, and Gulfs
CHAP. XII. Oceans
CHAP. XIII. Soil
CHAP. XIV. Climate
CHAP. XV. Minerals
CHAP. XVI. Animals
CHAP. XVII. Botany
CHAP. XVIII. Geology
CHAP. XIX. Natural Curiosities
PART II.
POLITICAL GEOGRAPHY.
CHAP. I. Political and Geographical Division
CHAP. II. Cities and Towns
CHAP. III. Agriculture
CHAP. IV. Manufactures
CHAP. V. Commerce
CHAP. VI. Rail-roads
CHAP. VII. Canals
CHAP. VIII. Government
CHAP. IX. Convention
CHAP. X. Indian Tribes
CHAP. XI. American Antiquities
CHAP. XII. Religion
CHAP. XIII. Manners and Amusements
CHAP. XIV. Penitentiary System
CHAP. XVI. Literature and Education
CHAP. XVII. Fine Arts
CHAP. XVIII. Banking System
CHAP. XIX. Biographical Sketches
CHAP. XX. History
BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES.
PART I.
PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY.
CHAPTER I.――MOUNTAINS.
THOUGH embracing in its extent several elevated ranges of great length
and breadth, the territory of the United States cannot be considered
as a mountainous country. The land along the whole line of the seacoast
is level for a considerable distance into the interior. The breadth of
this level tract expands from fifty miles in the north-east extremity,
gradually, as we advance to the south-west, till in the state of
Georgia, it has attained an extent of near two hundred miles. Beyond
this the land gradually rises into mountains, which are much more
remarkable for their length and breadth, than their height. They
sometimes consist of numerous parallel ridges rising successively
behind each other; at other times they run into knots; and sometimes
they recede from their parallel direction into what are called spurs.
These ranges or belts of mountainous country, though receiving a vast
number of different appellations, are most usually known by the name
of the _Alleghanies_. The long continuity of this chain has obtained
it the name of the _Endless Mountains_, from the northern savages. The
French and Spaniards, who first became acquainted with it in Florida,
applied to it through its whole extent the name of _Apalachian_, which
is still retained by a considerable river of that country.
The general course of the Alleghanies is about north-east and
south-west; east of the Hudson they are scattered in irregular groups,
without any very marked direction.
The range of the _Rocky or Chippewan Mountains_ divides the waters
which flow east into the Missouri and Mississippi, from those which
flow west into the Pacific Ocean, and are a continuation of the
Cordilleras of Mexico. Their longitude is about one hundred and twelve
west, and they terminate in about seventy north latitude. Along the
coast of the Pacific is another range which seems to form a step to
the Rocky Mountains. It extends from the Cape of California along
the coast to Cook’s Inlet, generally rising to no great height in the
southern portion. In the northern part, La Perouse states that it is
ten thousand feet high, and at its northern extremity is Mount Elias,
eighteen thousand feet high, and the loftiest peak of North America.
The _White Mountains_ in New England, largely considered, are the
principal ranges running north-east and south-west, projecting from
the main ridge that forms the boundary of the United States, and
separates the waters of the St. Lawrence from those that run south
through the Northern States. The highest ridge is that called the
White Mountain Ridge in New Hampshire, running from south to north,
the loftiest summits of which are Monadnock, a hill of an abrupt
and striking character, Sunapee, Kearsarge, Carr’s Mountain, and
Moosehillock. Towards the north of the state, these eminences rise
to a much higher elevation, and are known specifically by the name of
the White Mountains.
Illustration: White Mountains.
Illustration: White Mountains.
These are the loftiest mountains in the United States, east of the
Mississippi. They lie between the Connecticut and Androscoggin rivers
on the north-east and west, and the head-waters of the Merrimack on the
south sixty or seventy miles from the coast; yet their white summits
are visible from many miles at sea. They extend about twenty miles from
south-west to north-east, and their base is eight or ten miles broad.
Mount Washington is the highest of all the White Mountains, being six
thousand two hundred and thirty-four feet above the level of the sea.
Next to Mount Washington in height is Mount Adams, then Jefferson,
then Madison, all more than five thousand feet high; there are several
besides these, though none so elevated. The country around and among
the mountains is very wild and rough, and the mountains themselves
are difficult of access. The east side of Mount Washington rises at an
angle of forty-five degrees. The lower part of the mountain is covered
with thick woods of spruce and fir trees, with deep beds of moss
beneath. Heavy clouds of vapor often rest upon the mountain, and fill
the moss with water, which cannot be exhaled or dried up by the sun
on account of the woods, and therefore it breaks out in numerous
springs which feed the streams from the mountain. The trees are short
and stunted higher up the mountain; soon there are only bushes; then
instead of bushes are vines; the last thing that grows is winter grass
mixed with moss; the summit is entirely bare of vegetation. There is
a plain from which the last height of Mount Washington rises to the
height of fifteen hundred feet. This elevation or pinnacle is composed
of huge grey rocks. Reaching the top much fatigued and out of breath,
the traveller is instantly master of a boundless prospect, noble enough
to pay him for his labor. The Atlantic dimly seen through a distance of
sixty-five miles, the Vermont Mountains on the west, the southern and
northern mountains of New Hampshire, Lake Winnipiseogee, ponds, streams,
and towns, without number, all form a great impressive picture.
The road from the seacoast to the mountains passes along the head
stream of the Saco, which rises among these mountains, and breaks
through them at a place known by the name of the Notch, a narrow defile
extending two miles in length between two large cliffs, apparently rent
asunder by some vast convulsion of nature.
‘The sublime and awful grandeur of this passage baffles all description.
Geometry may settle the heights of the mountains; and numerical figures
may record the measure; but no words can tell the emotions of the soul,
as it looks upward, and views the almost perpendicular precipices which
line the narrow space between them; while the senses ache with terror
and astonishment, as one sees himself hedged in from all the world
besides. He may cast his eye forward or backward, or to either side;
he can see only upward, and there the diminutive circle of his vision
is cribbed and confined by the battlements of nature’s ‘cloud-capped
towers,’ which seem as if they wanted only the breathing of a zephyr,
or the wafting of a straw against them, to displace them, and crush
the prisoner in their fall. Just before our visit to this place, on the
26th of June, 1826, there was a tremendous avalanche, or slide, as it
is there called, from the mountain which makes the southern wall of the
passage. An immense mass of earth and rock, on the side of the mountain,
was loosened from its resting place, and began to slide towards the
bottom. In its course, it divided into three portions, each coming down,
with amazing velocity, into the road, and sweeping before it shrubs,
trees, and rocks, and filling up the road, beyond all possibility
of its being removed. With great labor, a pathway has been made over
these fallen masses, which admits the passage of a carriage. The place
from which the slide, or slip, was loosened, is directly in the rear
of a small, but comfortable dwelling-house, owned and occupied by
a Mr. Willey, who has taken advantage of a narrow, a very narrow
interval,――where the bases of the two mountains seem to have parted
and receded, as if afraid of coming into contact,――to erect his lone
habitation: and, were there not a special Providence in the fall of a
sparrow, and had not the finger of that Providence traced the direction
of the sliding mass, neither he, nor any soul of his family, would ever
have told the tale. They heard the noise, when it first began to move,
and ran to the door. In terror and amazement, they beheld the mountain
in motion. But what can human power effect in such an emergency? Before
they could think of retreating, or ascertain which way to escape, the
danger was passed. One portion of the avalanche crossed the road about
ten rods only from their habitation; the second, a few rods beyond
that; and the third, and much the largest portion, took a much more
oblique direction. The whole area, now covered by the slide, is nearly
an acre; and the distance of its present bed from its former place on
the side of the mountain, and which it moved over in a few minutes,
is from three quarters of a mile to a mile. There are many trees of
large size that came down with such force as to shiver them in pieces;
and innumerable rocks, of many tons’ weight, any one of which was
sufficient to carry with it destruction to any of the labors of man.
The spot on the mountain, from which the slip was loosened, is now
a naked, white rock; and its pathway downward is indicated by deep
channels, or furrows grooved in the side of the mountain, and down one
of which pours a stream of water, sufficient to carry a common saw-mill.
‘From this place to the Notch, there is almost a continual ascent,
generally gradual, but sometimes steep and sudden. The narrow pathway
proceeds along the stream, sometimes crossing it, and shifting from
the side of one mountain to the other, as either furnishes a less
precarious foothold for the traveller than its fellow. Occasionally it
winds up the side of the steep to such a height, as to leave, on one
hand or the other, a gulf of unseen depth; for the foliage of the trees
and shrubs is impervious to the sight. The Notch itself is formed by a
sudden projection of rock from the mountain on the right or northerly
side, rising perpendicularly to a great height,――probably seventy or
eighty feet,――and by a large mass of rock on the left side, which has
tumbled from its ancient location, and taken a position within _twenty
feet_ of its opposite neighbor. The length of the Notch is not more
than three or four rods. The moment it is passed, the mountains seem
to have vanished. A level meadow, overgrown with long grass and wild
flowers, and spotted with tufts of shrubbery, spreads itself before
the astonished eye, on the left, and a swamp or thicket, on the right,
conceals the ridge of mountains which extend to the north: the road
separates this thicket from the meadow. Not far from the Notch, on the
right hand side of the road, several springs issue from the rocks that
compose the base of the mountain, unite in the thicket, and form the
Saco river. This little stream runs across the road into the meadow,
where it almost loses itself in its meandering among the bogs, but
again collects its waters and passes under the rock that makes the
southerly wall of the Notch. It is here invisible for several rods, and
its presence is indicated only by its noise, as it rolls through its
rugged tunnel. In wet seasons and freshets, probably a portion of the
water passes over the fragments of rock, which are here wedged together,
and form an arch or covering for the natural bed of the stream.
‘The sensations which affect the corporeal faculties, as one views
these stupendous creations of Omnipotence, are absolutely afflicting
and painful. If you look at the summits of the mountains, when a cloud
passes towards them, it is impossible for the eye to distinguish, at
such a height, which is in motion, the mountain, or the cloud; and this
deception of vision produces a dizziness, which few spectators have
nerve enough to endure for many minutes. If the eye be fixed on the
crags and masses of rock, that project from the sides of the mountains,
the flesh involuntarily quivers, and the limbs seem to be impelled
to retreat from a scene that threatens impendent destruction. If the
thoughts which crowd upon the intellectual faculties are less painful
than these sensations of flesh and blood, they are too sublime and
overwhelming to be described. The frequent alterations and great
changes, that have manifestly taken place in these majestic masses,
since they were first piled together by the hand of the Creator, are
calculated to awaken “thoughts beyond the reaches of the soul.” If the
“everlasting hills” thus break in pieces, and shake the shaggy covering
from their sides, who will deny that
“This earthly globe, the creature of a day,
Though built by God’s right hand, shall pass away?――
The sun himself, by gathering clouds oppressed,
Shall, in his silent, dark pavilion rest;
His golden urn shall break, and, useless, lie
Among the common ruins of the sky;
The stars rush headlong, in the wild commotion,
And bathe their glittering foreheads in the ocean?”
‘Reflection needs not the authority of inspiration to warrant a
belief, that this anticipation is something more than poetical. History
and philosophy teach its truth, or, at least, its probability. The
melancholy imaginings which it excites are relieved by the conviction
that the whole of God’s creation is nothing less
“Than a capacious reservoir of means,
Formed for his use, and ready at his will;”
and that, if this globe should be resolved into chaos, it will undergo
a new organization, and be re-moulded into scenes of beauty, and abodes
of happiness. Such may be the order of nature, to be unfolded in a
perpetual series of material production and decay――of creation and
dissolution――a magnificent procession of worlds and systems, in the
march of eternity.’[1]
A few weeks after the slide mentioned in the above description, a
disaster occurred which occasioned the destruction of the interesting
family to which allusion is there made.
The afternoon had been rainy, and the weather continued so till
eleven o’clock in the evening, when it cleared away. About the same
hour, a great noise was heard, at the distance of several miles like
the rushing down of rocks and much water from the mountains. The next
morning, the people, at Conway, could perceive that some disaster, of
no ordinary character, had happened, by the appearance of the mountains
on each side of the road. On repairing to the spot, they found the
house of Mr. Willey, standing near the Notch, unhurt, but destitute of
any of the family. It is supposed that they left it in their fright,
and were instantly swept away, and buried under the rocks and earth
which were borne down by the freshet. This family consisted of Mr.
Willey, his wife, five children, and two hired men, all of whom were
suddenly swept from time to eternity, by this lamentable disaster. Had
they remained in the house, they would probably have been safe.
The central and western parts of Maine are mountainous. The highest
mountains are the Katahdin, situated near the centre of the state, the
Speckled, Bald, Bigelow, and Ebeeme mountains. The range between the
rivers Hudson and Connecticut, and this last and lake Champlain, is
called the _Green Mountains_, an appellation which it has received
from its perpetual verdure, being covered on its western side with
hemlock, pine, spruce, and other evergreens. These mountains are from
ten to fifteen miles wide, much intersected with valleys, and abounding
in springs and streams. Vegetation decreases on approaching their
summits; the trees diminish in size, and frequently terminate in a
shrubbery of spruce and hemlock, two or three feet high, with branches
so interwoven as to prevent all passage through them. The sides of the
mountains are generally rugged and irregular; some of them have large
apertures and caves. Their tops are coated with a compact and firm moss,
which lies in extensive beds, and is sometimes of a consistency to bear
the weight of a man without being broken through. These mosses absorb a
great deal of moisture, and afford wet and marshy places, which in the
warm season are the constant resort of water fowl. The loftiest summits
are Killington Peak, near Rutland; Camel’s Rump, between Montpelier
and Burlington, and Mansfield Mountain, a few miles farther north, all
which are more than three thousand five hundred feet above the level
of the sea. Ascutney, a single mountain near Windsor, is three thousand
three hundred and twenty feet in height.
The range called Green Mountains in Vermont, enters the west part of
Massachusetts from the north, and forms the Hoosac and Tagkannuc Ridges,
which run nearly parallel to each other south, into Connecticut. The
most elevated peaks of the Tagkannuc Ridge are Saddle Mountain in the
north, four thousand feet high, and Tagkannuc Mountain in the south,
three thousand feet. No summits of the Hoosac Ridge much exceed half
these elevations. Mount Holyoke, in the neighborhood of Northampton,
commands a prospect of the highest beauty; the waters of the
Connecticut wind about its base, giving fertility and wealth of
vegetation to the surrounding country. On its top a shanty is erected,
in which refreshments are kept for the visitors who at favorable
seasons make this excursion in great numbers.
There are two distinct chains belonging to the Alleghany range in the
state of New York, the Catskill and the Wallkill. The Catskill, which
is the most northern, is the continuation of the proper Alleghany or
western chain; the eastern is called, by some geographers, Wallkill.
A visit to the Catskill is a favorite excursion of northern travellers,
and several days may be spent very agreeably in examining the grand and
romantic scenery of the neighborhood. Pine Orchard is a small plain,
two thousand two hundred and fourteen feet above the Hudson, scattered
with forest trees, and furnished with an elegant house of great
size. Immediately below is seen a wild and mountainous region, finely
contrasting with the cultivated country beyond, which presents every
variety of hill and valley, interspersed with town, hamlet, and cottage.
The hills of _Weehawken_ are on the west side of the Hudson, nearly
opposite the city of New York.
Illustration: Weehawken.
The _Highlands_ of the Hudson, or Fishkill Mountains, which first
appear about forty miles from New York, are marked for their sublimity
and grandeur, and interesting from their connection with many great
events of the revolution. This chain is sixteen miles in width, and
extends twenty miles along both sides of the Hudson. The height of
the principal has been estimated at one thousand five hundred and
sixty-five feet. The _Peruvian Mountains_ consist of a lofty tract
in the northern part of New York, being round the sources of the
Hudson, and separating the waters of Lake Champlain from those of the
St. Lawrence. They received their name from the supposition that they
contained mineral treasures. Their loftiest summit, called Whiteface,
is about three thousand feet above the level of Lake Champlain.
Illustration: Highlands.
The Apalachian chain in Pennsylvania spreads to its widest limits, and
covers with its various ranges more than one half of the state. The
greatest width of the chain equals two hundred miles. It consists of
parallel ridges sometimes little distant from each other, and at other
times with valleys twenty or thirty miles broad lying between them.
The range nearest the coast is called the South Mountain, and is a
continuation of the Blue Ridge of Virginia. This, however, is hardly a
distinct ridge, but only an irregular series of rocky, broken eminences,
sometimes disappearing altogether, and at others spreading out several
miles in breadth. These eminences lie one hundred and fifty or two
hundred miles from the sea, and their height does not exceed one
thousand two hundred feet above the surrounding country. Beyond these
are the Kittatinny or Blue Mountains, which extend from Maryland to New
Jersey across the Susquehanna and Delaware. Farther westward are the
ridges bearing the names of the Sideling Hills, Ragged Mountains, Great
Warrior Mountain, East Will’s Mountain, till we come to the Alleghany
Ridge, the highest range, and from which this whole chain has in common
language received the name of the Alleghany Mountains. The highest
summits are between three and four thousand feet above the level of the
sea. West of the Alleghany are the Laurel and Chesnut Ridges.
These mountains are in general covered with thick forests. The Laurel
Mountains are overgrown on their eastern front with the tree from which
they are named. The wide valleys between the great ridges are filled
with a multitude of hills, confusedly scattered up and down. The tops
of the ridges sometimes exhibit long ranges of table land, two or three
miles broad; some of them are steep on one side, and extend with a long
slope on the other. These mountains are traversed by the great streams
of the Susquehanna chain, and the head-waters of the Ohio.
The _Wallkill_, which crosses the Hudson at West Point, forty miles
below the Catskill, is the continuation of the Blue Ridge, or _Eastern
Chain_, which is the most general appellation for the extensive ridge
which fronts the Atlantic. The eastern and western ranges run parallel
to each other, south-west, till on the frontiers of North Carolina
and Virginia they unite in a knot which has been called the Alleghany
Arch, because the principal chain embraces there in a curve all its
collaterals from the east. A little farther to the south, but still
in North Carolina, a second knot unites all the collateral ridges from
the west, and forms a culminating point of heads of rivers. The second
bifurcation stretches south-west and then west, and the name of the
[2]Cumberland Mountains through the whole state of Tennessee, while
the proper _Alleghany Chain_, left almost alone, continues its course
to the south-west, and completes the boundary of Georgia and the two
Carolinas. From the Alleghany Arch, there are three principal ridges or
ramifications of the Alleghany, running north-east and nearly parallel
to each other, namely, the _Alleghany Proper_, the _North Mountain_,
and the _Blue Ridge_. Of the last ridge the highest summits are the
Otter Peaks. The elevated district of South Carolina presents seven or
eight mountains running in regular directions, the most distinguished
of which is the [3]Table Mountain. Mr. Jefferson, with peculiar
felicity of illustration, called the range of the Alleghanies the spine
of the United States separating the eastern from the western waters,
and the whole of the territory from the Mississippi to the Atlantic
into three natural divisions, materially differing from each other
in climate, configuration, soil, and produce; namely, the coast, the
mountains, and the western territory.
In extent, in elevation, and in breadth, the _Rocky Mountains_ far
exceed the Alleghanies of the Eastern States. Their mean breadth is
two hundred miles, and where broadest, three hundred. Their height must
be very great, since, when first seen by Captain Lewis, they were at
least one hundred and fifty miles distant. On a nearer approach, the
sublimity of the prospect is increased, by the appearance of range
rising behind range, each yielding in height to its successor, till
the most distant is mingled with the clouds. In this lofty region the
ranges are covered with snow in the middle of June. From this last
circumstance, these ranges have been sometimes denominated the _Shining
Mountains_――an appellation much more appropriate than that of the
_Rocky_ or _Stony Mountains_, a property possessed by all mountains,
but peculiar to none. The longitudinal extent of this great chain is
immense, running as far north-west as sixty degrees north latitude,
and perhaps to the Frozen Ocean itself. The snows and fountains of this
enormous range, from the thirty-eighth to the forty-eighth degree of
northern latitude, feed, with never-failing supplies, the Missouri and
its powerful auxiliary streams.
Illustration: Table lands at the foot of the Rocky Mountains.
In endeavoring to explore these Alpine heights, and the sources of the
Red and Arkansaw rivers, Captain Pike and his party were bewildered
amidst snows, and torrents, and precipices. The cold was so intense,
that several of the party had their limbs frostbitten, and were obliged
to be abandoned to their fate, by Pike and his surviving companions. In
a lateral ridge, separating the valley of the Arkansaw from that of the
Platte river, in north latitude forty-one degrees, is a remarkable peak,
called the _Great White Mountain_; so remarkable, indeed, as to be
known to all the savage tribes for hundreds of miles round, and spoken
of in terms of admiration by the Spaniards of New Mexico, and which
formed the boundary of their knowledge to the north-west. The altitude
of this peak was taken on the base of a mile by Pike, and found to
be ten thousand five hundred and eighty-one feet above the level of
the meadow at its foot; and the height of this latter was estimated
at eight thousand feet above the level of the sea; in all, eighteen
thousand five hundred and eighty-one feet of absolute elevation; being
six thousand feet higher than the peak of Teneriffe, by Humboldt’s
measurement; or two thousand eight hundred and ninety-one feet short
of that of Chimborazo, admitting the elevation of this last to be
twenty-one thousand four hundred and seventy-two feet. Captain Pike
and his companions never lost sight of this tremendous peak, unless in
a valley, for the space of ten weeks, wandering amongst the mountains.
What is the elevation at the sources of the Missouri can only be matter
of mere conjecture. The level of the river, where they left their
canoes, could not be less than six thousand feet above the sea; but how
high the mountains rose above this point the narrative does not inform
us, and hardly gives us any data to decide. The central chain, as usual,
is marked in the map as highest, and covered with snow during the
whole year. The latitude is between forty-five and forty-seven degrees;
and between these parallels, in Europe, the lower limit of perpetual
congelation is fixed at from nine to ten thousand feet above the level
of the sea; and it can hardly be supposed that the summits of this
snowy range were less than eight thousand five hundred or nine thousand
feet high, making a reasonable allowance for the greater coldness of
the American continent. Captain Clarke allows this central range to
be sixty miles across, and that the shortest road across the different
ranges is at least one hundred and forty miles, besides two hundred
miles more, before we can reach a navigable river. In their first
passage across these tremendous mountains, the American party suffered
every thing which hunger, cold, and fatigue, could impose, during three
weeks. They were compelled to melt the snow for their portable soup;
many of their horses (which they used for conveying their baggage, or
for riding,) were foundered by falls from precipices; the men became
feeble through excessive toil, and sickly from want of food, as there
are no wild animals in these inhospitable regions; and, but for an
occasional meal of horse flesh, the whole party must have perished. In
returning home from the mouth of the Columbia, their state was little
better. Having again come in sight of the mountains, in the middle
of May, they attempted to pass them but in vain, on account of the
snow, which lay from six to ten feet deep, and were obliged to return,
and rest in the plains to the twenty-fourth of June. These mountains
are, therefore, a far more formidable barrier to the Pacific, than
the Alleghanies to the back country, and can be passed with great
difficulty only for three months in the year, namely, from the latter
end of June to the latter end of September.
We are indebted to the Missouri Advocate for the following account
of General Ashley’s discoveries in this quarter. He considers it
quite possible to form a route across this formidable barrier to the
Pacific Ocean. The route proposed, after leaving St. Louis, and passing
generally on the north side of the Missouri river, strikes the river
Platte, a short distance above its junction with the Missouri; then
pursues the waters of the Platte to their sources, and, in continuation,
crosses the head-waters of what General Ashley believes to be the
Rio Colorado of the west, and strikes, for the first time, a ridge or
single connecting chain of mountains, running from north to south.
This however presents no difficulty, as a wide gap is found apparently
prepared for the purpose of a passage. After passing this gap, the
route proposed falls directly on a river, called by George Ashley the
Buenaventura, and runs from that river to the Pacific Ocean. The face
of the country, in general, is a continuation of high, rugged, and
barren mountains; the summits of which are either timbered with pine,
quaking-asp, or cedar; or, in fact, almost entirely destitute of
vegetation. Other parts are hilly and undulating; and the valleys and
table-lands (except on the borders of water-courses, which are more
or less timbered with cotton-wood and willows,) are destitute of wood;
but this indispensable article is substituted by an herb, called by
the hunters wild sage, which grows from one to five feet high, and is
found in great abundance in most parts of the country. The sterility of
the country generally is almost incredible. That part of it, however,
bounded by the three ranges of mountains, and watered by the sources
of the supposed Buenaventura, is less sterile; yet the proportion of
arable land, even within those limits, is comparatively small; and
no district of the country visited by General Ashley, or of which he
obtained satisfactory information, offers inducements to civilized
people, sufficient to justify an expectation of permanent settlement.
The river visited by General Ashley, and which he believes to be the
Rio Colorado of the west, is, at about fifty miles from its most
northern source, eighty yards wide. At this point, General Ashley
embarked and descended the river, which gradually increased in width
to one hundred and eighty yards. In passing through the mountains, the
channel is contracted to fifty or sixty yards, and so much obstructed
by rocks as to make its descent extremely dangerous, and its ascent
impracticable. After descending this river about four hundred miles,
General Ashley shaped his course northwardly, and fell upon what he
supposed to be the sources of the Buenaventura; he represents those
branches as bold streams, from twenty to fifty yards wide, forming a
junction a few miles below where he crossed them, and then emptying
into a lake (called Grand Lake,) represented by the Indians as being
forty or fifty miles wide, and sixty or seventy miles long. This
information is strengthened by that of the white hunters, who have
explored parts of the lake. The Indians represent, that at the extreme
west end of this lake, a large river flows out, and runs in a westward
direction. General Ashley, when on those waters, at first thought it
probable they were the sources of the Multnomah: but the account given
by the Indians, supported by the opinion of some men belonging to the
Hudson Bay Company, confirms him in the belief, that they are the
head-waters of the river represented as the Buenaventura. To the north
and north-west from the Grand Lake, the country is represented as
abounding in salt. The Indians west of the mountains are remarkably
well disposed towards the citizens of the United States; the Eutaws
and Flatheads are particularly so, and express a great wish that the
Americans should visit them frequently.
A large number of lateral ranges project to the south-east, east, and
north-east of the main range. Where the Missouri enters the plains,
is the most eastern projection; and from where the Jaune leaves the
snowy range, there is a lateral range, running more than two hundred
miles south-east, which is intersected by the Bighorn river. As these
mountains have not yet been explored by the eye of geological science,
it is impossible to say any thing respecting their component parts;
but, from every thing that we can learn from Pike and Clarke, they seem
to be chiefly granitic. No volcanoes have yet been discovered amongst
them; but strange unusual noises were heard from the mountains, by the
American party, when stationed above the falls of the Missouri. These
sounds seemed to come from the north-west. ‘Since our arrival at the
falls,’ says the narrative, ‘we have repeatedly heard a strange noise
coming from the mountains, a little to the north of west. It is heard
at different periods of the day and night: sometimes when the air is
perfectly still and unclouded, and consists of one stroke only, or of
five or six discharges in quick succession. It is loud, and resembles
precisely the sound of a six pounder at the distance of three miles.
The Indians had before mentioned this noise like thunder, but we had
paid no attention to it. The watermen also of the party say, that the
Pawnees and Ricaras give the same account of a similar noise made in
the Black Mountains, to the westward of them.’ Again, near the same
place, it is afterwards said: ‘They heard, about sunset, two discharges
of the tremendous mountain artillery.’ Not a word more occurs upon the
subject; but we know that similar explosions take place among the
mountains near the head of the Washita, and among the mountains of
Namhi, near the sources of the Red river.
In our present state of ignorance respecting these mountains, it is
impossible to give a solution of this phenomenon, though it may proceed
from some distant volcano, which, like Stromboli, may be in a state
of constant activity, but more irregularly. It is well known that the
sounds of volcanoes are heard at very great distances, as at Guatimala,
where the sound of the volcano of Cotopaxi was distinctly heard, though
more than two hundred and twenty miles distant. Some indications of
volcanoes had been seen by the American party, when ascending the river,
about sixty miles below the mouth of the Little Missouri, where they
passed several very high bluffs on the south side, one of which had
been lately a burning volcano, as the pumice stones lay very thick
around it, and emitted a strong sulphureous smell. Similar appearances
are mentioned by Mackenzie, as taking place among the Rocky Mountains
on their eastern side, in north latitude fifty-six and one hundred and
twenty degrees west longitude. ‘Mr. Mackay,’ says he, ‘informed me,
that in passing over the mountains, he observed several chasms in the
earth that emitted heat and smoke, which diffused a strong sulphureous
stench.’ From all these circumstances combined, it is natural to infer
that the sound proceeds from some very distant and unknown volcano.
On the west side of the Mississippi, and about midway between the Rocky
Mountains and the Alleghanies, lies a broad range of mountains, called
the Ozarks, six or seven hundred miles in length, about one hundred
broad, and having an elevation varying from one to two thousand feet
above the sea. This range of low mountains, which is penetrated by two
branches of the Mississippi, the Arkansas and Red river, was nearly
altogether unknown till within these few years. It is parallel with
the range of the Alleghanies, making an angle of about forty degrees
with the great range of the Andes. As far as the Ozarks have yet been
explored, the granites and older primitive rocks are found at the
lowest part, being surmounted by those of more recent formation. The
reverse of this is observed in the Rocky Mountains. A similar range of
broken and hilly country commences on the Ouisconsin river and extends
north to Lake Superior. It is called the Wisconsin or Ouisconsin Hills.
GENERAL REMARKS ON MOUNTAINS.
Mountains are supposed by naturalists to have different origins,
and to date their commencement from various periods. Those which
form a chain, and are covered with snow, are accounted primitive,
or antediluvian. They greatly exceed all other mountains in
height; in general their elevation is very sudden, and their
ascent steep and difficult. They are composed of vast masses of
quartz, destitute of shells, and of all organized marine matter;
and appear to descend almost perpendicularly into the body of
the earth. Of this kind are the Pyrenees, the Alps, the Himmaleh
ranges, the Atlas, and the Andes. Another class are of volcanic
origin. These are either detached or surrounded with groups of
lower hills, the soil of which is heaped up in disorder, and
consists of gravel and other loose substances. Among these are
Mount Ætna and Vesuvius. A third class of mountains, whether
grouped or isolated, are such as are composed of stratified
earth or stone, consisting of different substances of various
colors. The interior consists of numerous strata, almost
horizontally disposed, containing shells, marine productions,
and fish bones in great quantities. The strata of mountains
which are lower and of more recent date, sometimes appear to
rise from the side of primitive mountains which they surround,
and of which they form the first step in the ascent.
The mountains in Asia are the most elevated and imposing in
the world. Of these the Himmaleh chain is the highest; one of
its peaks, Dhawalaghiri, reaching the altitude of twenty-eight
thousand and ninety-six feet, and several exceeding twenty-four
thousand. Africa has some extensive chains of mountains, but
the altitudes of only a few have been ascertained. Mont Blanc
is the highest summit of Europe, reaching an elevation of
fifteen thousand seven hundred and thirty-five feet. The Andes
of South America present the most striking and stupendous
features; cataracts, volcanoes, and immense chasms of an almost
perpendicular descent. Chimborazo, the highest point of the
Andes, reaches twenty-one thousand four hundred and sixty-four
feet; in many places the peaks rise to upwards of twenty
thousand feet, though in others they sink to less than one
thousand.
In general, all the chains of mountains in the same continent,
seem to have a mutual connection more or less apparent; they
form a sort of frame-work to the land, and appear in the origin
of things to have determined the shape which it was to assume;
but this analogy, were we to generalize too much, would lead us
into error. There are many chains, which have very little, or,
rather, no affinity to each other. Such are the mountains of
Scandinavia and of Scotland, mountains as independent as the
character of the nations who inhabit them.
TABLE OF THE PRINCIPAL ELEVATIONS IN THE UNITED STATES.
1. Long’s Peak, the highest of the Rocky Mountains,
Missouri Territory 12,000
2. James’s Peak, of the Rocky Mountains, Missouri Territory 11,500
3. Inferior peaks of the Rocky Mountains, varying from
10,700 to 7,200
4. Mt. Washington, the highest of the White Hills,
New Hampshire 6,234
5. Inferior peaks of the White Hills, varying from 5,328 to 4,356
6. Moosehillock Mt., Grafton County, New Hampshire 4,636
7. Mansfield or Chin Mt., Chittenden County, Vermont 4,279
8. Camels’ Rump, Chittenden County, Vermont 4,188
9. Shrewsbury Peak, Rutland County, Vermont 4,034
10. Saddleback Mt., Berkshire County, Massachusetts 4,000
11. Table Mountain, Pendleton District, South Carolina 4,000
12. Peaks of Otter, Bedford County, Virginia 3,955
13. Killington Peak, Rutland County, Vermont 3,924
14. Round Top, the highest of the Catskill Mountains,
New York 3,804
15. High Peak, one of the highest of the Catskill Mountains,
New York 3,718
16. Grand Monadnock, Cheshire County, New Hampshire 3,718
17. Manchester Mountain, Bennington County, Vermont 3,706
18. Ascutney Mountain, Windsor County, Vermont 3,320
19. Ozark Mountains, Arkansas Territory, average height 3,200
20. Wachuset Mountain, or Mount Adams, Worcester County,
Mass. 2,990
21. Whiteface Mountain, Essex County, New York 2,690
22. Kearsarge Mountain, Hillsborough County, New Hampshire 2,460
23. Alleghany Mountains, average height 2,400
24. Porcupine Mountains, Chippeway County, south of Lake
Superior 2,200
25. Cumberland Mountains, average height 2,200
26. Moose Mountain, New Hampshire 2,008
27. New Beacon, the highest of the Highlands, New York 1,658