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.”
[Illustration: FABYAN HOUSE, WHITE MOUNTAINS.]
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.
[Illustration: MT. WASHINGTON RAILWAY.]
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.
[Illustration: “GULF OF MEXICO,” MT. WASHINGTON.]
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.
[Illustration: LIZZIE BOURNE MONUMENT.]