Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

Which is about nine miles in extent, over splendid macadamized roads, through a section of country, in the suburbs, devoted to gardening, and under a high state of cultivation. The entire island, about thirty miles long by ten wide, is noted for its fertility, and is called the Garden of Canada. The trip should also include a drive to the summit of the mountain, which is reached by a carriage road of easy ascent, and which is being converted into a magnificent park, from which an extensive view of the city and surrounding country can be obtained. The Mount Royal Cemetery, the Grey Nunnery, and the Hotel Dieu are also to be seen in this drive, the latter being the largest building in the Dominion, used for a convent, hospital, and asylum for poor children.

The Water Works, the reservoir of which is on the side of the mountain, with the pumping station on the banks of the St. Lawrence, above the city, are well worthy of a visit. The reservoir was excavated out of the solid rock, and is 206 feet above the level of the river. The cost of the works, with the machinery, was over $2,000,000. The immense pressure obtained from such an elevated reservoir, enables the fire department to dispense entirely with engines, using hose carriages, and a large conflagration in the city is almost an impossibility.

The public buildings of the city are substantial and elegant, many of them conspicuous for their superior architectural design, and the completeness of their appointments. The Court House, Post Office, Merchants’ Exchange, several bank buildings, the Custom House, McGill College, Bonsecours Market, and a list that might be indefinitely extended, comprise the notable structures that will attract attention as you ride through the business thoroughfares of the city.

The churches are among the finest to be found in America. Notre Dame, with its twin towers, conspicuous from every point of view, is the most capacious of any of the finished structures, although the Cathedral, now in process of erection, and modeled after St. Peter’s at Rome, is to be second only to this famous edifice in point of size and elegance. The towers are massive and lofty, being 220 feet in height. The right-hand tower may be ascended, and the view to be had well rewards the effort of climbing. It contains the big bell, weighing nearly 30,000 pounds. The other tower contains a chime of bells. The Church of the Gesu is noted for the beauty of its frescoes and paintings. The English Cathedral, and several Protestant churches, are also fine edifices.

Lachine Canal, leading from above the rapids of that name, is a fine specimen of engineering, and not only serves to facilitate navigation, but furnishes almost unlimited water power for the extensive manufacturing enterprises along its banks.

Victoria Bridge, which crosses the river from the Southern shore, is a massive and costly structure. One of the best views of it is that to be had in coming down the river, the boat passing under the central span. It is tubular in shape, built of iron, and rests upon twenty-four piers of solid masonry, the central span being 330 feet, and the remaining ones 242 feet. It cost $6,300,000, is the property of the Grand Trunk Railway Company, and is used exclusively for railway purposes.

The shipping interests of Montreal are among the most important sources of the city’s prosperity. At the head of ocean navigation, it is the American terminus of a number of trans-Atlantic steamship lines, and the railway and river and lake connections from the West, combined with its facilities for ocean commerce, render it very prominent as a port for transhipment. Its wharves are not excelled in America, being constructed of solid limestone; and its harbor is deep and capacious.

The Champ de Mars, a spacious parade ground, where three thousand troops may be reviewed at once; Viger Square, near by, with gardens, conservatories, fountains, etc.; Victoria Square, Jacques Cartier Square, and several other smaller squares, constitute the parks of the city, in addition to the Mount Royal Park. Improve his time as he may, the visitor will not soon exhaust the attractions of this beautiful city, and will find many more, which we have not space even to mention, as we regretfully leave the pleasant spot, and resume our journey, to the

ANCIENT CITY OF QUEBEC.

The route from Montreal may be chosen from three: The North Shore Railway, the Grand Trunk Railway, and the Richelieu & Ontario Steamship Line _via_ the St. Lawrence. The latter is a favorite, and unless the tourist is surfeited with steamboat riding, will be the one generally chosen. It is a night trip, and therefore less wearisome than a ride by rail, as the comfortable state rooms of the boat are preferable to the berths of a sleeping-car.

Leaving Montreal at early evening, passing the fort on the island directly against the city, and onward past the mouth of the Ottawa River below the city, the first stop is at the town of Sorel, or William Henry, at the confluence of Sorel or Richelieu River, forty-five miles from Montreal. Five miles farther on, the river expands into a lake about twenty-five miles in length by nine in width, and known as Lake St. Peter. Next we come to the ancient city of Three Rivers, taking its name from the fact that the St. Maurice River, which here flows into the St. Lawrence, is divided by islands into three channels.

The view of Quebec, as approached from the river, is singularly impressive. Unlike any other city on the American continent, its situation and surroundings make it an object of striking interest. The fortifications, with their towers and battlements, frown upon you from the Plains of Abraham and from the lower town, and there surrounds the place an air of mediævalism at once novel and attractive.

It is one of the oldest cities in America, as well as one of the most interesting. It was founded in 1608, and its history is replete with events of tremendous importance. The scene of many a battle and of untold carnage, the crowning event of all was the memorable engagement which transferred half a continent from France to Britain, and immortalized the names of both commanders, the victor and the vanquished.

The city consists of two divisions, known as the upper and the lower town. The upper town includes within its limits the Citadel of Cape Diamond, which covers the entire summit of the promontory, embracing an area of more than forty acres. It rises to the height of 345 feet above the river, and from its commanding position and the strength of the fortification, has been not inaptly entitled the “Gibraltar of America.”

The shape of the city is triangular, the St. Lawrence and St. Charles rivers forming the two sides, with the Plains of Abraham for the base. The river fronts are defended by a continuous wall on the very brow of the cliff, with flanking towers and bastions, loopholed for musketry and pierced for cannon. On the west side, a heavy triple wall, with trenches between, formerly guarded that approach, but much of it is now demolished. Between the old town and the outside world, the wall was formerly pierced with frowning gateways, five in number; but these have been gradually demolished, in response to the increasing demand for more free communication, and on the occasion of the writer’s last visit to the city, the old Saint John’s gate was being entirely removed. We present views of these gateways, from which the fortified aspect of the town before their demolition may be readily inferred.

The nationality of the inhabitants is strongly French, and the visitor from the States can easily fancy himself in a city in France, so decidedly un-American are all his surroundings. The quaint houses, the steep and tortuous streets, especially of the oldest portions of the city, and the almost universal use of the French language in the ordinary channels of trade, require no stretch of the imagination to practically transport one to the old world, and give a glimpse, as it were, of a foreign country.

The view from the Citadel, on account of its elevation, is surpassingly grand and comprehensive. The majestic St. Lawrence, alive with sailing craft of every size and kind, stretches before the vision in both directions, seeming like a band of glistening metal, beautifying the scene and giving animation to the picture. Directly below lie the crooked streets of the lower town, teeming with animation, while its busy population so far beneath, seem like pigmies, and you look upon the glistening roofs of the houses and down the very throats of the chimneys, into which it would seem an easy matter to toss a pebble.

Looking to the westward, the Plains of Abraham are spread out before you, together with the bluffs scaled by Wolfe and his brave soldiers in the preparation for the assault that ended in a victory, but cost the lives of both commanders. The spot where Wolfe fell is marked by a handsome monument. It was erected in 1849, but is still called the “new monument” in distinction from the simple monolith which previously occupied its site, an illustration of which is given on the preceding page. The new monument bears the simple but eloquent inscription, “Here died Wolfe, victorious.” Directly across the river is the settlement of Point Levi, and down the stream the beautiful Isle of Orleans may be seen. This pleasant resort may be reached by ferry from the city, and it affords delightful drives, giving views of the Falls of Montmorenci, the Laurentian Mountains, and other objects of interest.

Chaudiere Falls, nine miles above Quebec, on the river of the same name, are 130 feet high and 400 feet wide. The Falls and Indian village of Lorette, seven miles from Quebec, are points to which excursions may be profitably made, either by carriage or the North Shore Railway.

Other points of interest in and about Quebec demand at least a brief mention. The Dufferin Terrace, which will be included in the visit to the Plains of Abraham, as will also the Governor’s Garden, where the monument to Wolfe and Montcalm will be seen; the French Cathedral; the Laval Seminary, in the chapel of which are some very fine paintings; the English Cathedral, near by; the Ursuline Convent; the public buildings in the lower town, and others which the driver will point out to you, are of sufficient interest to enliven a visit of several days duration, or they may be hurriedly inspected in a “flying trip.”

THE FALLS OF MONTMORENCI

Are among the most interesting of the objects which secure the visits of tourists to Quebec, both on account of their own attractiveness and the pleasant drive by which they are reached. The “carters” of Quebec are as numerous as those of Montreal, and the roads around the city and in the country adjacent are among the finest to be found anywhere. Securing your driver, you leave the city by one of the gates, and, crossing the St. Charles River, are soon in the suburbs, passing here and there a house or villa of modern style, but speedily coming to the realm of the ancient; the road leading through quaint old hamlets, the cottages with their picturesque dormer windows, the thatched-roofed outbuildings, and the peasant-like appearance of the people, combined with the universal employment of the French language, strengthen the fancy for the time being that America must be far away, and that the rural districts of France or Switzerland are the scenes through which your trip is made. Children run beside the carriage, asking alms or offering flowers, while the women and older girls are at work in the fields, or spinning with their rude wheels in the open doorways or on the porches of the little houses. The antiquated implements of agriculture, the rude carts by the roadside, and the rustic crosses by the way, at which some devout pilgrim, perchance, is tarrying to breathe a _Pater Noster_, all tend to complete the illusion of a remoter age or more distant clime than the few hours’ ride from bustling, modern, Yankee civilization.

The ride of eight miles all too quickly brings you to the River Montmorenci, and here you gaze upon historic ground, it being the scene of the battle of Montmorenci which immediately preceded Wolfe’s final victory at Quebec. Leaving your carriage, and paying a small fee for the privilege of crossing private grounds, you descend the bank of the river to look up at the fall from below. The river here pours over the cliff into the St. Lawrence, broadening at the edge to about 50 feet, and falling 250, in a sheeny vail, half water, half spray, not sublime, nor even grand, but exquisitely beautiful.

The towers on either side of the river still mark the spot where, several years ago, a suspension bridge was erected, but which, through some defect, gave way as a laborer and his family were crossing in a cart, precipitating them into the gulf below.

Returning to Quebec, the views of the city are enlivened by the peculiar feature of glistening towers and roofs, so noticeable in connection with many Canadian cities. The sunlight, glancing from the metal-covered roofs, spires, and dormer windows, which, owing to the tortuous windings of the streets, are set at every conceivable angle, produces a brilliant and sparkling effect.

If you are ever tempted to indulge in sentiment, the words of the poet, used to describe the Celestial city, may come into mind:--

“There is the city in splendor sublime;
See how its towers and battlements shine.”

THE SAGUENAY RIVER.

This is the largest affluent of the St. Lawrence, which it joins about 120 miles below Quebec. The scenery of the Saguenay is strikingly grand and romantic, and unlike anything else east of the Rocky Mountains. It is usually visited by boat, and the trip down the St. Lawrence to Tadousac, at the junction of the two streams, and up the Saguenay among its bold, wild scenery, should not be omitted, even at the expense of slighting some other point of interest lying in the highways of fashionable travel.

Leaving Quebec by steamer, you pass through some remarkably fine scenery, in which the majestic St. Lawrence abounds, the river being in some places thirty miles in width, and dotted with a multitude of islands, abounding in game. The Falls of St. Anne are on the river of that name, which enters the St. Lawrence off the lower end of Orleans Island through a bold ravine. The quarantine station on Grosse Isle is passed, and is associated with sad memories of the famine in Ireland. It received twenty thousand plague-stricken emigrants, of whom six thousand now lie in a single grave, marked by a stone monument.

Ninety miles below Quebec is the fashionable watering place known as Murray Bay. The river is here twenty miles wide, and the tides have a range of twenty feet in height. On the south shore of the river, still further down, is Riviere du Loup, a place of some importance, and six miles below it is Cacouna, already quite famous as a pleasure resort, and yearly increasing in popularity. Across the river from Cacouna is Tadousac, at the mouth of the far-famed Saguenay, formerly a place of some commercial importance as a post of the Hudson Bay Company, and one of the first towns on the St. Lawrence fortified by the French. It has a good hotel, near which is a little church over 250 years old.

The Saguenay River is remarkable, not only for its great depth, but also for the marvelous height of its banks. It seems to flow through a rift in the Laurentian Mountains, which appear to be cleft, as it were, to the very foundations, the height of the cliffs rising from the edge of the river being equaled only by the depth to which they descend below the surface. The source of the river is 130 miles from its junction with the St. Lawrence, in Lake St. John, which is fed by eleven rivers, draining an immense watershed, the great volume resultant pouring through this remarkable gorge, in many places unfathomable. At St. John’s Bay, 27 miles above Tadousac, the water is one mile and a half in depth, and but little less at Eternity Bay, six miles beyond. At the latter place, the wonderful capes, Trinity and Eternity, like giant sentinels guard the entrance, rising 1,500 and 1,900 feet, respectively, above the water.

Ha-Ha Bay is sixty miles above Tadousac, and is nine miles long by six wide. It has also been named Grand Bay. The first-named title is said to have come from the exclamations of delight which sprung from the lips of the navigators of the river on its discovery; and in contrast with the gloomy and forbidding aspect of the lower portions of the river, it would seem that such an outburst might be perfectly natural. The mountains around Ha-Ha Bay abound in whortleberries, or blueberries, as they are here called, and a very important industry with the natives is the gathering and shipment to market of the bountiful harvest thus kindly furnished by nature, the picking season extending from the middle of July until the falling of the snow, and the supply being inexhaustible.

Chicoutimi, a few miles beyond, is at the head of navigation, the river being obstructed above this point by rapids and falls. Lumbering is one of its important industries, the immense forests of the vicinity being as yet almost in their virgin state, and the harbor accessible to the largest vessels, thus giving it natural facilities of great value.

The fishing in the Saguenay River and its tributaries is one of the chief attractions to the sportsman. Salmon abound, and the quality of the fish taken from such deep, cold water can readily be inferred by the disciples of Walton. Game also abounds in the forests, some specimens being well worthy of the skill and nerve of the trained hunter.

A student of character will find an interesting subject in the person of the Canadian Indian, to be met in various localities in Canada. Combining with his native craft the shrewdness of a Connecticut Yankee, he will often appear in the role of a vender of curiosities, in which “taking” attitude our artist presents him.

In closing our notes on the Saguenay, we feel that but faint justice can be done to its wonderful attractions. It has been tersely described by a writer as a “region of primeval grandeur, where art has done nothing and nature everything; where, at a single bound, civilization is left behind and nature stands in unadorned majesty; where Alps on Alps arise; where, over unfathomable depths, through mountain gorges, the steamer ploughs the dark flood on which no sign of animal life appears.” A better summing up of its peculiar features, in so few words, could not be written, and the tourist who visits the scenes we have briefly described will indulge in no regrets, unless it be that want of time to do justice to the trip gives only hurried glances where hours and days might be enjoyed in realizing the sublime grandeur of the surroundings.

_Ogdensburg to Portland._

The route by the “all-rail” line from the St. Lawrence at Ogdensburg to the ocean at Portland, presents many attractions to the pleasure tourist, which we deem worthy of special mention in this connection. As an avenue of approach to the Adirondacks, Chateaugay Chasm, the Green Mountains of Vermont, and the White Mountains of New Hampshire, it offers a combination of desirable routes for summer travel. Indeed, the entire line extends through a succession of lake, river, and mountain scenery, of charming beauty and variety.

THE ADIRONDACKS are best reached by way of MALONE, a station on the Ogdensburg & Lake Champlain Railroad, about sixty miles from Ogdensburg. From here an excellent stage line takes the tourist to the Adirondack Wilderness, by way of Ayer’s, Loon Lake, Meacham Lake, and St. Regis, the latter being the location of “Paul Smith’s” famous hostelry. CHATEAUGAY, a station twelve miles east of Malone, is another gateway to the famous resort, the stages going _via_ the Chateaugay Lakes.

The “Adirondack District” is a term applied to a tract of country having for its general boundaries the St. Lawrence River on the north, Lakes Champlain and George on the east, the Mohawk River on the south, and the Black River on the west. The encroachments of civilization have so trenched upon these boundaries, that the “Wilderness,” so called, comprises only the central, unsettled and uncultivated portion of this tract, almost in its primeval state, with a border of settled country on all sides. The limits of this work forbid an extended description of this region, which as yet is only partially explored. Indeed, one of its chief delights consists in the new discoveries that the venturesome tourist may make in his search for the game which abounds in its forests, or the fish which teem in its waters.

The following, from the report of the Superintendent of the Adirondack Survey, gives a good idea of the character of some portions of this wilderness:--

“In these remote sections, tilled with rugged mountains, where unnamed waterfalls pour in snowy tresses from the dark, overhanging cliffs, the horse can find no footing, and the adventurous trapper or explorer must carry upon his back his blankets and a heavy stock of food. His rifle, which affords protection against wild beasts, at times replenishes his well-husbanded provisions, and his axe aids him in constructing from bark or bough, some temporary shelter from storm, or hews into logs the huge trees which form the fierce, roaring, comfortable fire of the camp. Yet, though the woodman may pass his lifetime in some section of the wilderness, it is still a mystery to him. * * It is a peculiar region; for though the geographical center of the wilderness may be readily and easily reached in the light, canoe-like boats of the guides, by lakes and rivers, which form a labyrinth of passages for boats, the core, or rather cores of this wilderness extend on either hand from these broad avenues of water, and, in their interior, spots remain to-day as untrodden by man, and as unknown and wild, as when the Indian paddled his birchen boat upon those streams and lakes. Amid these mountain solitudes are places where, in all probability, the foot of man never trod; and here the panther has his den among the rocks, and rears his savage kittens undisturbed, save by the growl of bear or screech of lynx, or the hoarse croak of raven taking its share of the carcass of slain deer.”

A mile and a half north of Chateaugay is the wonderful CHATEAUGAY CHASM, a newly discovered rival of the far-famed Ausable. The waters of the Chateaugay Lakes here find a passage on their way to the St. Lawrence, through a narrow gorge, walled in by sandstone cliffs, the river in one place making a descent of fifty feet in a beautiful cascade. Several of the more noticeable features of this wonderful chasm are presented in our illustrations. The “Cascade and Buttress” exhibits an appearance of constructive design, as layer upon layer of sandstone rock forms a terraced buttress, resembling some ancient ruin. “Giant Gorge” is a narrow defile, with frowning walls, having the romantic and interesting feature of a cavern, called “Vulcan’s Cave,” with an entrance in the side of the rock, sixty feet above the river, and one hundred and twenty feet below the top of the cliff. It was first explored by means of spliced ladders, but is now reached by an enclosed stairway. It is about thirty feet square, and presents an interesting study for the geologist. The cave was doubtless hollowed out of the sandstone by the action of water which trickled down through the ledge above in tiny streams, wearing away the softer stone by slow degrees, and leaving the masses of harder deposit in a variety of singular and grotesque shapes. A series of architectural pillars, supporting gothic arches or miniature dormer windows, may be seen on the one hand, and at certain angles, odd and fantastic figures, some of them half human in appearance, present themselves, while here and there a block of stone appears like the unfinished work of the sculptor.

“Spartan Pass” and “Rainbow Basin and Falls” are peculiarly interesting, the water descending to the basin over a succession of rocky steps, nearly a hundred in number, coming to a rest in the “basin,” only to dash on again, in ever-changing forms and merry cadence, in their race through the gorge, to the St. Lawrence. “Pioneer Crossing” receives its name from the fact that in early times a bridge spanned the chasm, on what was then the great highway of the wilderness. On the north side of this crossing a huge rock affords an extensive view of the gorge, from which fact it has been named Point Lookout. In other parts of the Chasm, grottoes, arches, columns, etc., afford subjects of study for the curious, and of admiration for the lovers of the odd and fantastic in nature. A fine hotel has been erected near the entrance to the chasm, from the cupola of which splendid views may be had of the scenery. Coaches connect with trains at Chateaugay.

At Rouse’s Point, the terminus of the O. & L. C. R. R., connection is made with the Delaware & Hudson Canal Co. Railroad for Lake George, Saratoga, Troy, Albany, and New York, and with the Central Vermont for St. Albans, Worcester, Providence and Boston. Continuing our journey toward Portland, we here traverse a small portion of the Central Vermont Railroad to Swanton, where connection is made with the

ST. JOHNSBURY & LAKE CHAMPLAIN RAILROAD,

The next link in the line under consideration. The route from Rouse’s Point, _via_ Lake Champlain, is exceedingly pleasant, the scenery being that of the lovely lake, and the Green Mountains of Vermont. SHELDON SPRINGS are on the line of this road, and it is also a direct route to MOUNT MANSFIELD. Both these localities have acquired no little celebrity as summer resorts.

At Morrisville, connection is made for Mount Mansfield by stage line, and such as wish to visit the locality will find an excellent stopping place at Mt. Mansfield House. The mountain is in the town of Stowe, about twenty miles northeast of Montpelier, and its height is 4,359 feet above the level of the sea.

The Green Mountains of Vermont are a portion of the great Appalachian range, extending almost continuously from near the St. Lawrence River, in Canada, through the entire length of Vermont, across the western part of Massachusetts and the middle Atlantic States, to the northern part of Alabama. The White Mountains of New Hampshire, and the Adirondacks and Catskills of New York are regarded as outlying spurs of this chain. This range is remarkable for the uniformity of outline which characterizes the different peaks, particularly of their summits, the ridges extending in the same general direction, sometimes hardly diverging from a straight line for a distance of fifty or sixty miles. Where the mountain chains are parallel, the ridges are also in parallel lines, preserving their general direction, and, to a wonderful extent, a uniformity of distance between them. When one curves round in a new direction, all curve with it.

These general peculiarities are less marked in the mountains of Vermont than in the more southerly portions of the same chain. In fact, the peculiar characteristics of the range, as a whole, are less marked at both its northern and southern extremities, the termination at either end not being well defined, as the mountains sink away and are lost in the hilly country that succeeds to them.

The Green Mountain peaks are also less bold and abrupt than those of the White Mountains, being covered mostly with verdure to their very summits, and presenting less of sharp or ragged outline in their general conformation. To many visitors, this feature is pleasing and agreeable, and a large class of summer tourists spend a portion or all of the season in the vicinity of the “beautiful hills” of the “Green Mountain State.”

At St. Johnsbury the line intersects the Passumpsic Railroad, and a description of the route from this point will be given in the following chapter, in connection with the trip from Quebec and Montreal.

The route from the West to the seaboard _via_ Montreal and Quebec, as arranged over recently completed lines of travel, naturally extends through the charming region of the celebrated White Hills of New Hampshire. From Montreal, or any point beyond, this popular resort is easy of access by several routes, all of them possessing some special attraction to invite the tourist to give them a trial. From Quebec, the tourist may return to Montreal, by boat or rail, or may proceed directly to the mountains by the QUEBEC CENTRAL RAILWAY to Sherbrooke, thence _via_ the Passumpsic Railroad to St. Johnsbury, Bethlehem and Fabyans, in the very heart of the White Mountain region.

If the trip be made by way of Montreal, the mountains may be reached _via_ the Grand Trunk, the Southeastern, or the Central Vermont. The route by the Grand Trunk, is by way of Gorham, and the eastern side of the mountains. By the Southeastern, the line is to Newport and St. Johnsbury. The Central Vermont line offers two routes; one to Montpelier, there connecting with the Montpelier & Wells River Railroad, or by way of Swanton, thence by the Portland and Ogdensburg line to St. Johnsbury, which thus seems to be made the focus of all the various lines having the same general direction, and leading to the mountain region.

At NEWPORT, reached by the Southeastern from Montreal, or the Quebec Central from Quebec, the celebrated Lake Memphremagog is the chief attraction, and the dining station is at the splendid hotel bearing the same name as the lake. It is a popular summer resort, and the steamer on the lake makes frequent trips for the accommodation of tourists. Several mountains, comprising Jay Peak, Owl’s Head, Mount Oxford, Mount Elephantis and the Willoughby Mountains are among the attractions of the vicinity.

ST. JOHNSBURY is situated on the Passumpsic River, at the intersection of the Passumpsic and St. Johnsbury & Lake Champlain Railroads; and in addition to the attractiveness of its location from a scenic point of view, it has attained much prominence as a manufacturing town, the heaviest enterprise in that direction being the production of the celebrated Fairbanks scales, known the world over for their excellence and correctness. The St. Johnsbury House and Avenue Hotel are good places of entertainment.

Eastward from St. Johnsbury the route lies over the St. Johnsbury & Lake Champlain Railroad to Lunenburg, the western terminus of the Portland division of the P. & O. line. From this point, a ride of an hour brings us into the very midst of the glorious White Hills, and in full view of the grand

PRESIDENTIAL RANGE,

Stretching before the vision in a glorious and beautiful panorama, with the peerless WASHINGTON above them all. This approach to the mountains affords the most comprehensive view of the principal range; and the Westerner, who has always been accustomed to broad expanses of prairie, with no greater elevations, perhaps, than the height of an ordinary church steeple, will be peculiarly impressed with the grandeur of the scene before him.

The first important station is BETHLEHEM JUNCTION, three miles from Bethlehem village, the “paradise of hay-fever sufferers.” This lovely hamlet enjoys the distinction of having the highest location of any town in the United States east of the Rockies and north of the Carolinas; and the remarkable purity of its atmosphere not only secures exemption from the peculiar malady which drives so many to its protection, but heightens the effect of the views to be had of the surrounding country. Owing to its commanding position, and the remarkable clearness of the atmosphere, the view of the mountains from “Bethlehem Street” is confessedly the best to be had anywhere.

The village is rendered accessible to the traveler by means of a recently constructed narrow-gauge railroad, from Bethlehem Junction to the end of the “street.” About midway on the line of this road is the magnificent hotel known as MAPLEWOOD, kept in superb style, and at its terminus is the well-known SINCLAIR HOUSE, Durgin & Fox proprietors. In addition to these palace hotels, a host of smaller ones, and a long list of boarding-houses, furnish abiding places for the multitudes who “tarry for a night,” or make this place their summer home.

Bethlehem is also the railroad connection for the famous FRANCONIA NOTCH, by means of a narrow-gauge railroad, extending into the valley and terminating near the Profile House. The attractions of this locality are sufficiently important to demand special notice by themselves; and we therefore keep straight on in our course, the next stop being at the TWIN MOUNTAIN HOUSE, so named from its proximity to the “Twin Mountains,” one of which is visible from the hotel. This house has for many years been the summer home of Henry Ward Beecher, who addresses large congregations of Sunday excursionists during the season.

Four miles further, and we stop at the WHITE MOUNTAIN HOUSE, one of the oldest of the mountain hotels, a veritable “tavern” of the earlier days, with less of style than its more pretentious neighbors, but with a large stock of good cheer and hospitable care for its guests, at moderate prices. Only a mile from the Fabyan House, the would-be guests of the latter are sometimes compelled, from an over-taxation of its immense capacities, to fall back on the resources of mine host Rounsevel, who gives them the best his house affords, and bids them “be therewith content.”

THE FABYAN HOUSE,

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.