Carroll County
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In the White Mountains
Mountains in whose vast shadows live
great names,
On whose firm pillars rest mysterious dawns,
And sunsets that
redream the apocalypse;
A world of billowing green that, veil on veil,
Turns a blue mist and melts in lucent skies;
A silent world, save
for slow waves of wind,
Or sudden, hollow clamor of huge rocks
Beaten by valleyed waters manifold;
Airs that to breathe is life and
joyousness;
Days dying into music; nights whose stars
Shine near,
and large, and lustrous; these, O these,
These are for memory to life's
ending hour.
-- Richard Watson Gilder
Bartlett, named after the president of the State at the date of the
town's incorporation (1790), was originally granted to William Stark and
others for services during the French and Indian War. Two brothers by
the name of Emery and a Mr. Harriman were among the first settlers
there. A few years later, in 1777, Daniel Fox, Paul Jilly, and Captain
Samuel Willey, from Lee, began a settlement in what is now known as
Upper Bartlett.
Whitefield was granted, as Whitefields, to Josiah
Moody and others in July 1774, and was occupied soon after by Major
Burns and other settlers. It was incorporated December 1, 1804.
The territory originally occupied by the town of Bethlehem was almost
exactly that of the lost town of Lloyd Hills (Various early histories
say "Lord's Hill.") said to have been granted by Governor Wentworth in
or about 1774. This town had only a paper existence, as the records of
the grant are lost and the original grantees probably made no effort to
settle it. In the silence of the charter records of New Hampshire as to
the town, we know of it through its being given as a boundary in the
grant of Whitefield in 1774 and from its name appearing on Holland's map
(1784). The royal government having been overthrown, the territory
became the property of the State and the earlier grant was ignored.
The first settlement in the limits of the town was made in 1790 by
Jonas Warren, Nathaniel Snow, Amos Wheeler, and others. On December 27,
1799, the General Court of New Hampshire incorporated the town of
Bethlehem and the first town meeting was held March 4, 1800. Additions
of territory were made in 1848 and in i873. The hamlet of Bethlehem led
a precarious existence in its early days. Famine' frequently frowned on
the settlement and in 1799 the inhabitants were reduced to such straits
that they were compelled to make a load of potash and to send it to
Concord, Massachusetts, a distance of one hundred and seventy miles, for
sale, subsisting on roots and plants until their envoys returned with
provisions, four weeks later. President Dwight, in 1803, found chiefly
log huts, the settlements being "recent, few, poor, and planted on a
soil, singularly rough and rocky." "There is nothing in Bethlehem," he
remarks, "which merits notice, except the patience, enterprise and
hardihood, of the settlers, which have induced them to venture, and
stay, upon so forbidding a spot; a magnificent prospect of the White
Mountains; and a splendid collection of other mountains in their
neighborhood."
The main interest of White Mountain settlement, however, lies aside from
the history of the founding of the towns. It centers about the
settlements made in the isolated places, such as Nash and Sawyer's
Location and the Notch, where various individuals of hardy spirit
established themselves; or, rather, the main interest lies in the
settlers themselves of these localities and in the story of their
hardships and of their perseverance. The names of Crawford, Rosebrook,
and Willey are the most famous ones in this connection, and the days of
the families of these names are the heroic days of White Mountain
history.
In 1792, Eleazar Rosebrook, a native of Grafton,
Massachusetts, settled with his family in Nash and Sawyer's Location, in
a then remote and lonesome spot in the valley of the Ammonoosuc, near
the site of the present Fabyan House, now such a busy railroad center in
the summer. About 1775, he had come from Grafton with his wife and child
into the remote district known as Upper Coos, making a temporary stay at
Lancaster until he could look about and find such a place as he desired
in which to settle. Pushing through the woods up the Connecticut River
into what is now Colebrook (then known as Monadnock), he built a log
cabin to which he brought his wife and two small children - a second
child, a daughter, had been born to them at Lancaster.
Hannah
Rosebrook was a true helpmate for such a sturdy pioneer, and she
cheerfully endured the hardships and privations which their living in
this solitary wilderness entailed. The narration of one or two homely
incidents of their life here will show the mettle of this couple. They
had taken with them a cow, and, as there were no fences, the animal was
at liberty to go where she pleased. Many times Mrs. Rosebrook, when her
husband was away, would shut her older child up in the house, and,
taking her infant in her arms, would go in search of the animal, to
which a bell was attached to enable her to be found. Expeditions of this
nature would sometimes take the courageous woman far into the woods and
force her to wade the river to get to the animal, but she never flinched
from any hardship of this sort.
Salt was an article much needed
in this country and some families suffered considerably from lack of it.
Once, when there was a shortage of this commodity, Rosebrook went on
foot to Haverhill and returned, a distance of about eighty miles, with a
bushel of it on his back. This was not regarded by this powerful and
resolute man as any great feat.
Rosebrook served in the army
during the Revolutionary War. Before he left to join his company, the
pioneer took his family for safety to Northumberland, where a sort of
fort had been built. Here a son was born. A man named White, who had an
invalid wife, there upon kindly took Mrs. Rosebrook and her children
into his house, giving them their board for what household service Mrs.
Rosebrook could give. During a leave of absence from the army, Rosebrook
removed his family to Guildhall, Vermont. He rendered brave service in
the army. On one occasion an officer and he had a narrow escape from
capture when they were sent to Canada as spies, their pursuers being
outwitted by a clever stratagem of Rosebrook's.
While her husband
was in the army, Indians frequently came to the house where Mrs.
Rosebrook was staying, and she had to tolerate their presence, as she
feared to incur their displeasure when there was no man to resist them.
On one occasion, however, when they had become intoxicated, she cleared
her house of them, even dragging one drunken squaw out by the hair of
the head, and narrowly escaping a tomahawk thrown by the angry female,
who, when sober, came back next day, begged Mrs. Rosebrook's
forgiveness, and promised amendment, which promise, it is said, was
strictly kept.
At Guildhall the Rosebrooks remained for many
years in comparative comfort, but at length, life having become too
easy, the pioneer determined to move again, making in January, 1792, the
change already mentioned. At the place to which he then came, his
son-in-law, Abel Crawford, was living alone in a small hut, he having
bought out three or four settlers who had decided to leave. Mr.
Rosebrook in turn bought Crawford out, and, soon after, the latter,
"rather than to be crowded by neighbors," moved twelve miles down the
Saco River into Hart's Location, near the present Bemis Station, where
he lived to a great age, known and loved as the "Patriarch of the
Mountains." Here he built, some time previous to 1820, the Mount
Crawford House, which was kept for many years by his son-in-law,
Nathaniel T. P. Davis, and whose site is east of the railroad track at
Bemis.
Rosebrook lived in his new place of abode for a number of
years in a small log cabin. At length, having sold his farm in
Guildhall, he laid out the proceeds on his property here. The turnpike
through the Notch was incorporated, as has been stated, in 1803. It was
some time in that year that Rosebrook, as travel and business had
increased, built a large and convenient two-story dwelling, with two
rooms underground, on the high mound afterwards called the "Giant's
Grave." He also built a large barn, stables, sheds, and mills. This
house in the Ammonoosuc Valley, at the present Fabyan station, was the
first house for the accommodation of travelers erected in the White
Mountains. Where Rosebrook lived and prospered for the rest of his days.
He died in 1817, at seventy years of age, from a cancer, after patiently
enduring great suffering.
The inscription on his headstone in the
little cemetery on the knoll near Fabyan reads as follows -
"In
memory of Cap. Eliezer Rosbrook [sic] who died Sept. 25, 1817 in the 70
year of his age.
"When I lie buried deep in dust,
My flesh
shall be thy care,
These with'ring limbs with thee I trust
To
raise them strong and fair."
The headstone to his wife's grave,
on which the name is spelled correctly, states that she died May 4,
1829, aged 84.
President Dwight, who, as we have seen, stayed
overnight at Rosebrook's on his first journey to the Mountains, thus
speaks of his host: -
This man, with a spirit of enterprise
and industry, and perseverance, which has surmounted obstacles,
demanding more patience and firmness, than are in many instances
required for the acquisition of empire, planted himself in this spot, in
the year 1788.... Here he stationed himself in an absolute wilderness;
and was necessitated to look for everything which was either to comfort
or support life, to those, who lived at least twenty miles from him, and
to whom he must make his way without a road. By his industry he has
subdued a farm of one hundred and fifty, or two hundred acres; and built
two large barns, the very boards of which he must have transported from
a great distance with such expense and difficulty, as the inhabitants of
older settlements would think intolerable. . . .
Hitherto he has
lived in a log hut; in which he has entertained most of the persons
traveling in this road during the last eight years.... For the usual
inconveniences of a log house we were prepared; but we found comfortable
beds, good food, and excellent fare for our horses; all furnished with
as much good-will, as if we had been near friends of the family.
Our entertainment would by most Englishmen, and not a small number of
Americans, be regarded with disdain. To us it was not barely
comfortable; it was, in the main, pleasant.... During twelve out of
fourteen years, this honest, industrious man labored on his farm without
any legal title. The proprietor [see *1 below] was an inhabitant of New
York; and sold him the land through the medium of an agent. When he
bought it, the agent promised to procure a deed for him speedily.
Throughout this period he alternately solicited, and was promised, the
conveyance, which had been originally engaged. Nor did he resolve, until
he had by building and cultivation increased the value of his farm
twenty fold, to go in person to New York, and demand a deed of the
proprietor himself. The truth is; he possesses the downright
unsuspecting integrity, which, even in men of superior understanding
often exposes them to imposition, from a confidence honorable to
themselves, but, at times, unhappily misplaced. Here, however, the fact
was otherwise: for the proprietor readily executed the conveyance,
according to the terms of the original bargain. In my journey of 1803, I
found Rosebrook in possession of a large, well-built farmer's house,
mills and various other conveniences; and could not help feeling a very
sensible pleasure at finding his industry, patience, and integrity thus
rewarded.
[*1 This is different from what is given on a preceding page, which is taken from the Crawford History, the chief source for information about Rosebrook and Ethan Allen Crawford.]
Rosebrook left his property to his grandson, Ethan Allen Crawford, who,
with his cousin and, later, wife, Lucy Howe, had tenderly cared for his
grandfather in his last illness. Crawford, whose grave, situated in the
little cemetery not far from the Fabyan House and marked with a modest
shaft, is seen yearly by thousands, was the most famous of the pioneers
of the White Mountains. From his great strength and his stature - Starr
King and others say " He grew to be nearly seven feet in height," but a
daughter affirms that he stood just six feet two and one-half inches in
his stockings - he was known as the "Giant of the Hills." He was born in
1792 in Guildhall, Vermont.
When he was an infant, his parents,
as we have seen, moved to Hart's Location in New Hampshire and lived in
a log house in the wilderness, twelve miles from neighbors in one
direction and six miles in the other. Here he grew up in circumstances
that made him tough and healthy. In 1811, he enlisted as a soldier for
eighteen months. Soon he was taken sick with what he called "spotted
fever," and, when he was recovering, he started for home on a furlough,
reaching there, traveling mostly on foot, in fourteen days. After
regaining his health, he returned to his duty.
Upon the
expiration of his term of service, he engaged in various occupations,
such as making roads, working on a river, and farming. On the 8th and
9th of June, 1815, he records that the ground froze and snow fell to the
depth of a foot or more, lasting for two days, during which he drew logs
to a sawmill with four oxen. His extraordinary strength appears from his
being able to lift a barrel of potash weighing five hundred pounds and
to put it into a boat, hoisting it two feet. There was only one other
man of those working with him who could do more than lift one end of the
barrel. He had settled in Louisville, New York, near a brother, and had
got a good start when, in 1816, a letter was received from his
grandfather Rosebrook, telling of his illness and asking for one of them
to come to live with him. Ethan went to visit his grandfather, not
intending to stay permanently with him, but when the afflicted old man
entreated him with tears to make his future home here, Ethan's
determination to remain in Louisville was overcome. Returning to that
place, he sold his property there and came back to his grandparents,
assuming the indebtedness on the farm and taking care of them, as has
been noted. Then began his connection with the region in whose early
annals he played so important a part.
In July, 1818, less than a
year after his grandfather's death, while Crawford was absent, his house
took fire and burned to the ground, causing him a loss from which he was
never able to recover. With the help of his neighbors, a small house,
twenty-four feet square, which belonged to him and was situated one and
a half miles distant, was drawn by oxen to the site of the burned house.
This was fitted up so as to be a comfortable home for the winter of
1819. In it he entertained individuals who came along, as best he could,
but parties were compelled to go to his father's, eight miles from the
Notch, for accommodation. From year to year he struggled along, working
at various occupations, such as assisting travelers up and down the
Notch, guiding people up Mount Washington, and building paths,
endeavoring all the while to lighten the pecuniary burden which he was
carrying.
In 1819, with his father, he opened the first path to
Mount Washington, which started from the site of the present Crawford
House, and which was improved into a bridle path by Thomas J. Crawford
in 1840. This trail was advertised in the newspapers and soon visitors
began to come. In the summer of 1820, a party consisting of Adino N.
Brackett, John W. Weeks, General John Wilson, Charles J. Stuart, Noyes
S. Dennison, Samuel A. Pearson, all of Lancaster, and Philip Carrigain,
"the author of the New Hampshire Map" (as Mr. Crawford quaintly puts
it), made the ascent of the chief peak of the Presidential Range and
gave names to such peaks as were unnamed. These were Adams, Jefferson,
Madison, Monroe, Franklin, and Pleasant. They engaged, as guide and
baggage-carrier, Mr. Crawford, who has given a brief account of the
expedition, which is enlivened by a quiet humor. He was, he says,
"loaded equal to a pack horse," as the "party of distinguished
characters" wished to be prepared to stay two nights. They reached the
top of Washington via the Notch, where they stayed some hours enjoying
the prospect and naming the peaks as aforesaid. Descending to a lower
level, they spent one night. Mr. Crawford recorded that he was 84 tired
to the very bone" that night through being compelled virtually to carry
one member of the party, " a man of two hundred weight," who for some
reason was not able to get along without his assistance.
About a
month later, Brackett, Weeks, and Stuart, accompanied by Richard
Eastman, spent a week in leveling to the tops of all these mountains
from Lancaster, camping on them four nights, one of which, that of
August 31, was passed on the summit of Mount Washington. The height of
the highest peak was computed by them to be 6428 feet.
The
following summer, Crawford cut a new and shorter path to the summit of
Mount Washington, This path was made passable to horses by Horace Fabyan
soon after 1840 and was known thereafter as the Fabyan Bridle Path,
which went directly up over a course nearly the same as that of the
present railroad. On August 31 of the same year (1821), three young
ladies, the Misses Austin, formerly of Portsmouth, came to Crawford's
house to ascend the hills, as they wished to have the honor of being the
first women to reach the top of Mount Washington. They were accompanied
by their brother, a friend of the family, and a tenant on their farm in
Jefferson.
They went as far as Crawford's first camp that night,
but, bad weather coming on, they could go no farther, and were compelled
to stay there until a more favorable day should come. When their stock
of provisions began to fail, Mr. Faulkner, the tenant, returned to
Crawford's house and asked the pioneer to go to their relief. Mr.
Crawford had severely injured himself with an axe when cutting the path,
and was lame in consequence, but he nevertheless went to their
assistance and accompanied them to the top, where they had the good
fortune to have a splendid clear view. The ladies are said to have felt
richly repaid for the discomfort and hardship entailed in a journey
under such unfavorable conditions. They were out, all told, five days.
Mr. Crawford built in July 1823, three small stone huts on Mount
Washington, but, owing to the dampness of the place where they were
located, they were little used. The ruined walls of one may still be
seen near the Gulf Tank on the railroad.
In the spring of 1824,
Mr. Crawford built and raised a frame, thirty-six by forty feet, the
outside of which was in the autumn finished and painted. This addition,
the interior work on which was completed in the winter and spring of
1825, was ready for the accommodation of the summer guests of the latter
year. He thought his house with this enlargement would be sufficiently
commodious to take care of all who would be likely to come, but in a few
years, such was the increase in the number of visitors, another addition
was imperatively demanded. Sometimes, the guests were so numerous that
they could be accommodated for the night only at great inconvenience to
the family.
After considerable delay and much consideration, Mr.
Crawford, although he was in debt, and would get, by such a step, more
involved, finally decided to build again; so, having succeeded in
getting a loan, in the winter and spring of 1832 he bought and drew the
lumber and other materials for an addition. This was raised in May, and
before the last of July the outside was finished and painted. It was
sixty feet long and forty feet wide, consisted of two stories, and was
provided with two verandas, that on the Mount Washington side being
two-storied and extending the entire length of the building. The
plastering and papering were postponed until the next year, in the
summer of which the addition was first used.
About this time Mr.
Crawford was much annoyed by the encroachment of the new proprietor of
an establishment for the entertainment of travelers which had been
erected three quarters of a mile below his house. This man, who bought
the place in the autumn of 1831 and took possession of it the following
January, acted in such a clandestine manner toward Mr. Crawford in the
matter of acquiring and occupying the property, that the latter, who was
prepared to be neighborly, was much offended. Moreover, the rival
landlord made use of the mountain road which Mr. Crawford had
constructed at great expense of money and labor, and tried by false
representations to the authorities at Washington to have the post-office
taken away from Crawford's house and transferred to his own.
This
rival hotel, which appears to have been on the site of the present White
Mountain House, [see *2 below] did not, however, interfere with
Crawford's summer business, and for a number of years the sturdy pioneer
continued to entertain visitors and to conduct individuals or parties up
the paths he had made.
[*2 The distance, as given in the text, and the additional statement of Mr. Crawford, that Mount Washington could not be seen from it on account of Mount Deception intervening, point to this conclusion. The English traveler Coke speaks of it as displaying a gaily painted sign of a lion and an eagle, "looking unutterable things at each other from opposite sides of the globe," and as having already attracted numerous guests. He declares that the spirit of rivalry had proved of some service to Mr. Crawford, as it had "incited him to make considerable additions to his own house, all of which were run up with true American expedition."]
At length,
seriously involved in pecuniary difficulties and broken down in health,
Crawford, on the advice of some friends and of members of his family,
decided to give up his farm and to retire to a more secluded place,
where health might be regained. Hard as it was for him to leave the spot
where he had lived twenty years, had worked so hard, and, as he says,
"had done everything to make the mountain scenery fashionable," and
distressing as it was to let the property go into the possession of
others, he bravely accepted his lot, and, having made an arrangement
with his brother-in-law to change situations with him for a time, he
moved to a farm at Guildhall, Vermont, his birthplace. This removal took
place in 1837, the year which is signalized in White Mountain hotel
history by the establishment in the landlordship of Crawford's old
hostelry of the man who was to give his name to the railroad center that
was to rise at this place, Horace Fabyan, of Portland, of whom more will
be said later.
After Crawford had remained on his
brother-in-law's place ten months, where he raised barely enough to
support his family, Mr. Howe was compelled to lease the Crawford farm at
the Giant's Grave, which was put into other hands. As he wanted his own
place at Guildhall to live on, Crawford again had to move. Fortunately,
he was allowed to take the use of an unoccupied dwelling, one mile
farther down the Connecticut River, and by various arrangements he was
permitted to live for a number of years on this "beautiful farm," which
included the site of his grandmother's home and the scene of her
adventures with the Indians.
The fifth year a lawyer in Lancaster
obtained a lease of the place and thereafter Crawford was obliged to
give him half of what he raised. This condition not pleasing him and his
family, he determined to make a change; so, in 1843, he hired the large
three-story dwelling, [see *3 below] then empty, which was in sight of
where he had formerly lived at the Mountains. There he passed the
remainder of his days.
[*3 This building, the inn of his unneighborly rival of the early thirties, stood on the site of the present White Mountain House, a portion of which it still forms.]
In spite of his strength and wonderful endurance, Crawford was not destined to be long-lived. Worn out by the hardships of his early life and by the suffering caused by bodily ailments and by distress and anxiety due to the pecuniary embarrassments of his later life, he died prematurely on June 22, 1846, at the age of fifty-four. [see *4 below] He was a man of fine qualities - "one of nature's noblemen," says Willey. His wife, Lucy Crawford, was a fitting mate for such a hardy and brave man. Other members of the Crawford family were of the same sturdy type. Ethan's father, Abel, has already been mentioned. In his younger days he sometimes acted as guide to persons who wished to climb Mount Washington. In September 1818, he performed this service for John Brazer, of Cambridge, and George Dawson, of Philadelphia, whose expedition deserves mention because of the amusing fact that they nailed to a rock a brass plate [see *5 below] with a Latin inscription engraved on it as a record (of course, calmly prepared some time beforehand) of their ascent, the anticipated achievement and arduousness of which were evidently realized.
[*4 Both the headstone and the granite shaft
in the cemetery give his age at death as fifty-two. The Crawford History
states, at the beginning of Chapter II, that he was born in 1792, and on
page 187, in giving the family genealogy, Crawford says, "Ethan Allen is
my name, and I am fifty-three." The shaft of granite was erected in
memory of Crawford and of his wife, who died February 17, 1869, aged
seventy-six. Crawford's headstone bears the following interesting
inscription. - "In Memory of Ethan Allen Crawford, who died June 22,
A.D. 1846; aged 52.
"He built here the first Hotel at the White
Mountains, of which he was for many years the owner and Landlord.
"He
was of great native talent & sagacity, of noble, kind, and benevolent
disposition, a beloved husband and father, and an honest & good man."]
[*5 This brass plate remained intact on the summit until July, 1825. when it was carried off by some vandals from Jackson.]
Another ascent under the guidance of the future "Patriarch" is pleasantly narrated by Grenville Mellen, the poet and miscellaneous writer, who was one of the participants in the excursion. This "pilgrimage" was made in August 1819 (the year of the opening of the bridle path), and was from Portland through Fryeburg to the top of Mount Washington (the party camped out one night "in a rude-fashioned camp" part-way up the trail), and over the same route in returning. The chronicler portrays his guide and host, who, he says, "received us with a wintry smile (he never laughed, in the world!) and a sort of guttural welcome," in the following somewhat rhetorical paragraph: -
Crawford has no compeer. He stands alone; and we found him, in all the unapproachableness of his singularity. We defy Cruikshanks [sic] to hit him; and painting and poetry would despair, before such a subject. What we shall say, in downright prose, will be mere attempt. If you wish to unfold him, and his sons, go and hire him, or them, as guides; and let them act themselves out before you, on a pilgrimage to Mount Washington.
It was he, who in 1840, at seventy-five years of age, made the
first ascent of Mount Washington on horseback. At eighty, he could, it
is said, walk with ease five miles before breakfast, to his son's house.
He constantly attended the sessions of the New Hampshire Legislature, in
which he was a representative of his district, when eighty-two years of
age. A man of great good-humor, it was his pleasure, after he was
confined to the house, to entertain visitors with amusing and
interesting anecdotes. He died at eighty-five, having survived, it will
be noted, his son Ethan by several years. His length of days is in
striking contrast to the latter's short life.
His eight sons were
all, it is affirmed, more than six feet tall, and Ethan was not alone in
his endowment of unusual physical strength. Thomas J. Crawford, already
spoken of as a pathbuilder, kept from 1829 to 1852 the Notch House,
which was built in 1828 by Ethan and their father and which stood
between the present Crawford House and the Gate of the Notch, its site
being marked to-day by a signboard. About 1846 he constructed the
carriage road up Mount Willard.
The tragic episode of the
destruction of the household of Samuel Willey, Jr., in the Crawford
Notch has been many times narrated most fully by the householder's
brother, the Reverend Benjamin G. Willey, who devotes two chapters of
his " Incidents in White Mountain History " to this unhappy event. The
lonely and awe-inspiring place of the disaster, and the fact that the
slide caused the greatest loss of life of any accident or natural
disturbance that has occurred in the White Mountain region, and the
further fact that an entire household perished, have attached a
melancholy interest to the event and its scene and have drawn to them an
amount of attention which may seem disproportionate to the importance of
the occurrence. However this may be, it is certain that the interest in
the sad fate of the Willey family has been long-continued and general.
One evidence which proves the existence of this interest comes to mind
when one thinks of the great number of persons who, during all the years
that have elapsed since the time of the disaster, have visited the scene
from curiosity.
[It was formerly the custom, one which was established early, for visitors to add a stone from the material of the slide to a memorial pile on the spot where the bodies of a number of the victims were found. In process of time this has accumulated into a natural monument of considerable size, but of late years it has become hidden because of the growth of vegetation about it.]
Further
witness to the generality of this interest is afforded by recalling the
considerable literature which has grown up about the story of the
catastrophe and which includes, besides numerous recountings of the
circumstances, a romance [Soltaire, by George F. Willey] based in part
upon this event and written by an author bearing the family name, one of
Hawthorne's "Twice-Told Tales," and several poems. Hawthorne's allegory,
"The Ambitious Guest," is the chief literary monument of the Willey
disaster. Among the poems inspired by it the more notable are one by
Mrs. Sigourney, the Connecticut poet, ["The White Mountains after the
Descent of the Avalanche in 1826," printed in the Ladies Magazine
(Boston), August, 1828] and, particularly, a spirited narrative ballad
by Dr. Thomas W. Parsons, the Dante translator and "the Poet" of
Longfellow's "Tales of a Wayside Inn."
The sublimity of the
scenery and the tragedy of the fate of an entire family made a profound
impression upon travelers who passed that way in the score or so of
years after the event, and those who published accounts of their tours
in almost all cases devoted a goodly portion of the record of their trip
to the White Mountains to a narration of the story of this sad
occurrence. Especially is this true of the foreign travelers who
traversed the Notch in these early days.
The facts about the
terrible storm to which the avalanche was immediately due, and those
relating to the disastrous effects of the heavy rain and of the
landslide, which were learned or inferred by relatives and friends of
the destroyed family as the result of visits to the scene a few days
afterward, together with much conjecture as to the circumstances and
course of events on the fatal Monday night, are set down in great detail
by the historian brother, who was one of the searchers for the bodies of
the victims. A few additional particulars may be gleaned from the
narrative of Crawford and from the recollections of contemporaries
recorded in the newspapers.
The highway, whose construction
through the Notch shortly after the discovery of the pass has been
already chronicled and which connected Upper Cobs with the seaboard,
soon became an important route of commerce. After the turnpike was
built, early in the nineteenth century, long lines of wagons loaded down
with merchandise of various descriptions passed through the gateway both
summer and winter, and toward the end of the eighteenth century pleasure
travelers -few in number, to be sure, when compared with the later
travel of this character had begun to find their way thither, mostly in
private carriages. This increasing traffic made greatly felt the need of
public houses as places of shelter, particularly in winter, when the
northern winds are bitterly cold and the road is buried in snow, often
deeply drifted, and the passage through the defile therefore extremely
arduous and not a little hazardous. From soon after the beginning of the
last decade of the eighteenth century, there had existed on this route
simple taverns for the entertainment of the passing traveler who should
be in need of a meal, or who, overtaken by night or storm, should
require a lodging, in the house of the elder Crawford near the modern
Bemis Station at the southern entrance of the Notch and in Eleazar
Rosebrook's inn (near the present Fabyan House), thirteen miles distant
from the other. In view of the circumstances just mentioned, it is
evident that the opening of a public house somewhere on the road between
these two places would be not only an act likely to be profitable to the
innkeeper, but also one partaking of the nature of a benefaction to the
traveler. Especially was such an establishment in the depths of the
Notch itself a desideratum in those days.
There is a disagreement
in the statements as to the time of building of the house which was to
become famous as the Willey House. Mr. Spaulding says it was erected by
a Mr. Davis in 1793, which would make its building contemporaneous with
the settlements of Rosebrook and Crawford. Mr. Willey is very indefinite
as to the time when the house was constructed, his statement being that
it "had been erected, some years previous to the time [1826] of which we
write, by a Mr. Henry Hill."
[Mr. Crawford says in the History, under 1845, "the Notch House, which place was settled, Uncle William [i.e., William Rosebrook, then seventy-two years old, who lived with the Crawfords] says, about fifty-three years ago, by one Mr. Davis, who first began there; since which period, others have lived there for a short time, until Samuel Willey bought the place, and repaired it." The signboard (missing in 1914) at the site states that the house was built by Davis in 1792, was repaired and occupied by Fabyan in 1844, and was burned in 1898. E. A. Kendall, who passed through the Notch in November, 1807, speaks of a house, twenty miles from Conway, evidently the old Mount Crawford House at Bemis, at which he ate a meal, and says that "at a distance of seven miles, there is another house, which second house is only three miles short of the Notch," the context showing that by the latter he means the Gate of the Notch.]
Be that as it may, this
simple story-and-a-half dwelling, situated about midway between the two
houses that have been mentioned, was doubtless a timely inn to many a
weary teamster or "lated traveler" in its early days. The supervention
of a tragedy was destined, however, to intermit its use as, a place of
shelter and to change the nature of the interest of visitors in the
building and its environment.
After it had been kept by Mr. Hill
and others for several years its occupancy was abandoned.
[Ethan Allen Crawford engaged the house in the fall of 1823, 'and agreed to furnish it with such things as are necessary for the comfort of travelers and their horses." He records the buying of hay at Jefferson in the winter of 1824 and the carrying of it sixteen miles to furnish the Notch place.]
In the autumn of 1825, after the house had been for several months untenanted, Samuel Willey, Jr., a son of one [see *6 below] of the early settlers of Upper Bartlett, moved his family into it. As the house was much in need of repairs, he spent the autumn in making such as would render it comfortable during the winter, and he also enlarged the stable and made such other improvements as the time would permit. In the spring further improvements were planned and begun with the design of making the house more worthy of patronage, which had been good during the winter and was increasing.
[*6 Samuel Willey, who came to Bartlett from Lee, later moved to North Conway and lived on what is known as the "Bigelow Farm" until his death, in 1844, when he was more than ninety years of age. His son, Benjamin G., the historian, was the second pastor of the Congregational Church in Conway. He died in 1867.]
Nothing unusual occurred during the winter and
spring to arouse any apprehension as to the unsafeness of the situation
of this lone abode, but one rainy afternoon in June Mr. and Mrs. Willey,
when sitting by a window which looked out upon the mountain which now
bears their name, saw, as the mist cleared up, a mass of earth begin to
move, increase in volume and extent, and finally rush into the valley
beneath. This was soon followed by another slide of lesser magnitude.
Although these avalanches occurred near the house, they did no damage to
the property, but they served to startle the occupants greatly, and Mr.
Willey at first purposed to leave the place and, it is believed, even
made ready to do so, under the impulse of the first panic. His decision
against an immediate removal was largely determined by the counsel of
Abel Crawford, who with a force of men was at work the day of the storm
repairing the turnpike near by.
After a short lapse of time, Mr.
Willey, who had looked about in vain for a safer place in which to
establish his home, became calmer and his apprehensions of danger were
allayed, if not altogether removed. Would that he had heeded the
warning! But he came to think that such an occurrence was unlikely to
happen again, and so remained, little fearing danger and not presaging
any evil, to fall a victim with all his family two months later.
The midsummer of 1826 was characterized in the White Mountain region by
high temperatures and a long-continued drought. Under the hot sun the
soil became dry to an unusual depth and so prepared to be acted upon
powerfully by any heavy rain. The great heat and extreme drought
continued until after the middle of August, when clouds began to gather
and eventually to gain permanence and to give rain, at first but little
in quantity. Finally on Monday, August 28, came a day of occasional
showers, which were but a premonition of what was to follow, for toward
evening the clouds began to gather in great volume. They were of dense
blackness, which condition combined with their magnitude to make a
sublime and awful aspect of the heavens. just at nightfall it began to
rain, and then ensued a storm which will be ever memorable for its
violence and its disastrous consequences. Some time during this furious
downpour, which lasted for several hours, occurred the dreadful
avalanche which buried the entire household of the little dwelling in
the depths of the Notch.
The destructiveness of the storm began
to be evident to the dwellers south of the Notch early the next morning
when the intervales became so flooded that the cattle and horses had to
be removed from them, and when daylight revealed the desolating effects
of the copious rains on the summits and sides of the mountains. Many
trees were seen to be destroyed, a vast amount of rocks and earth to be
displaced, and many grooves and gorges to have been created on the
slopes.
At first, no fears were felt by the relatives and friends
of the family in the solitary Notch House as to their safety and,
indeed, so occupied were they with their own immediate concerns because
of the floods, that they had little time to think of anything else. Not
until Wednesday night, when unfavorable reports began to reach the
southern settlements, did suspicions arise that all was not well with
the household in the Notch. It seems that the first person to pass
through the Notch after the storm was a man named John Barker. He left
Ethan Allen Crawford's about four o'clock and reached the Notch House
about sunset, on Tuesday. Finding it deserted except by the faithful
dog, [see *7 below] he concluded that the family had betaken themselves
to Abel Crawford's, and he took up his lodging for the night in the
vacated house. Evidences of a hasty departure were seen in the opened
doors, the disarranged beds, the scattered clothes, and the Bible lying
open on the table. When trying to compose himself to sleep he heard a
low moaning. Unable, because of the dense darkness and of having no
provision for striking a light, to do anything in the way of
ascertaining the source of this or of rescuing the person or creature
giving utterance to it, Barker lay terrified and sleepless until dawn,
when he arose and, after a search, found the cause of his excitement. It
was an ox, which had been crushed to the floor by the fallen timbers of
the stable. After releasing the suffering animal, Barker proceeded on
his way to Bartlett, and on arriving at judge Hall's tavern told about
the fearful slide at the Willey farm. That night a party of men from
Bartlett started for the Notch. They arrived at their destination toward
morning, on Thursday, after a difficult journey. As soon as day broke
they began their search. The confirmed reports of the perishing of the
family having reached the relatives, they too started for the scene of
the disaster, which they reached about noon of that day. Many other
people had come as the result of the spreading of the news.
[*7 This animal, it is recorded, did what he could to make the disaster known, for, before any news of it had reached Conway, he appeared at the home of Mrs. Lovejoy, Mrs. Willey's father, and by moanings and other expressions of anguish, tried to tell the members of the family that something dreadful had happened. But not succeeding in making himself understood, he left, and, although he was afterward frequently seen running at great speed, now up and now down the road between the Lovejoy home and the Notch House, he soon disappeared from the region, doubtless perishing through grief and loneliness.]
It was a vast scene of
desolation and ruin that met the eyes of the searchers as they
approached the spot. On a clearing perhaps a hundred rods below the
house, one great slide had deposited its material, consisting of large
rocks, trees, and sand. The sides of the mountain above the house, once
green with woods, were lacerated and stripped bare for a vast extent,
while the plain appeared one continuous bed of sand and rocks with
broken trees and branches intermingled with them. Many separate scars
and slide deposits were to be seen above and below the house, which
stood unharmed amid the ruin all about it. The avalanche of greatest
magnitude, which started far up on the mountain-side directly behind the
house, would have overwhelmed it but for a curious circumstance arising
from a peculiarity in the configuration of the ground. It so happened
that the slide, when it had reached a point not far above the little
dwelling, had to encounter in its course down the mountain a low ridge,
or ledge of rock, which extended from this place to a more precipitous
part of the mountain. This, when met, not only somewhat arrested the
slide, but, what was yet more remarkable, served to divide it into two
parts. One portion of the debris flowed to one side, carrying away the
stable above the house, but avoiding the latter building, while the
other passed by it on the other side. In front of the house the two
divisions reunited and flowed on in the bed of the Saco. This strange
circumstance in the action of the landslide, with its even more singular
results, the sparing of the house and the destruction of its inmates -
for it was doubtless this particular convulsion that was the occasion of
the latter event, lends to the story of the disaster, when one thinks of
the perversity of fate in this instance and of what might have been, a
peculiar pathos.
Just how the members of the household met their
deaths will never be known. Whether, on hearing the frightful noise
which must have accompanied the avalanche and have heralded its coming,
they fled precipitately before it from the house and were overwhelmed by
it when it reached the low ground, or whether they had already, for fear
of being drowned by the rising waters above the habitation, betaken
themselves to the foot of the mountain before the slide came down and
there had been caught in its course and carried away with it, we cannot
tell. However it may be, these alternative suppositions, at any rate,
embody the principal theories that have been advanced as to the probable
course of events, but, it must be admitted, they both rest upon
inference and, largely, upon conjecture.
Such search [see *8
below] as had been made for the bodies up to noon on Thursday had been
unavailing. Not long after, however, a man who was searching along the
slide just below the house happened, through the accidental moving of a
twig, to notice a number of flies about the entrance to a sort of cave
formed by material of the slide, and as the result of a search which was
immediately instituted about this spot the location of one of the bodies
was disclosed. This body proved to be that of David Allen, one of the
farmhands. Not long after, the eager searchers came upon the body of
Mrs. Willey, even more terribly mangled than that of the farmhand.
Further search soon revealed the body of Mr. Willey, not far away. These
were all that were found that day, and, as it was decided to bury them
near their habitation until they could be more conveniently moved to
Conway the next winter, coffins were made of such materials as could be
obtained there, and the bodies, after prayer by a Bartlett minister,
were buried in a common grave.
[*8 Among the searchers was Ethan Allen Crawford, who had been sent for by the friends of the Willey family. He tells of nailing to a dead tree, near the place where the bodies were found, a planed board on which he had written with a piece of red chalk, "The family found here," which " monument " was afterward taken away by some of the later occupants of the house and used for fuel.]
Search was continued on the next day, and during its course the body of the youngest child was found and buried. On Saturday [see *9 below] the body of the eldest child, a girl of twelve years, and that of the other hired man, David Nickerson, were recovered and buried. The bodies of the three other children have never been found. They were covered so deeply beneath the sand and rocks that no search has ever been able to discover them. In view of the magnitude and extent of the avalanche and the quantity of materials deposited upon the valley, it is more remarkable that so many bodies were recovered than that these were not found.
[*9 Mr. Crawford says Nickerson's body was recovered on Saturday and that of the eldest daughter on Sunday, the latter being found some distance from where the others were and across the river, she apparently having met death by drowning.]
The only living things
about the premises to escape were the dog and two oxen. These latter
were endangered by falling timbers, but suffered no serious injury. Two
horses were, however, crushed to death by timbers of the stable.
The foregoing narrative embodies the main facts of this melancholy
event. The story of the storm which was the proximate cause of the
landslide would not, however, be complete without some mention of the
disastrous work of this terrific downpour, not only in the region in the
vicinity of the Willey House, but elsewhere, for it did great damage in
other parts of the Mountains also.
The road through the Crawford
Notch was in many places destroyed. All the bridges but two along the
entire length of the turnpike, a distance of seventeen miles, were
carried away. The directors, seeing it would take a great sum to repair
the road, voted, after the good people of Portland had contributed
fifteen hundred dollars to help and encourage them, to levy an
assessment upon the shares. These sums, with some other assistance,
provided means for accomplishing the work, which is said to have been
carried on by the hardy natives by moonlight as well as in the daytime.
The storm utterly destroyed the road through the Franconia Notch
also, and travel had to be suspended until after repairs were made by
means of a state appropriation of thirteen hundred dollars.
The
best part of Abel Crawford's farm was destroyed. A new sawmill, which
had just been built by Crawford, who was away from home at the time of
the flood, was swept away, together with a great number of logs and
boards and all the fences on the intervale. Twenty-eight sheep were
drowned and a great deal of standing grain was ruined. The water rose so
high as to run through the entire house on the lower floors and sweep
out the coals and ashes from the fireplace. Many other dwellers on the
banks of the Saco and its tributaries suffered more or less damage.
At Ethan Crawford's on the Ammonoosuc much injury to property and
livestock was occasioned by the flood. The whole intervals in the
vicinity of the Giant's Grave was covered with water for a space of more
than two hundred acres. The road was greatly damaged and in some places
entirely demolished. The bridge was carried away, taking with it in its
course down the river ninety feet of shed which had been attached to the
barn that escaped the fire of 1818. Fourteen sheep were drowned and a
large field of oats was destroyed. The flood came within a foot and a
half of the door of the house, a strong stream ran between the house and
the stable, and much wood was swept away. Mr. Crawford's camp at the
foot of the mountain, with all its furnishings, which were enclosed in a
sheet-iron chest, was carried away by the rising water. No part of the
iron chest, or of its contents, which included eleven blankets and a
supply of cooking-utensils, was ever found, except a few pieces of
blanket that were caught on bushes at different places down the river.
An incident relating to a party of travelers, which occurred at the
time of the storm, may well be narrated here. On the 26th of August,
some gentlemen from the West arrived at Crawford's for the purpose of
ascending Mount Washington. Crawford, as the weather was threatening,
advised them not to go that afternoon, but as their time was limited
they said they must proceed, and so he guided them to the camp, where
they arrived at ten o'clock at night. Early the next morning it began to
rain, which took away all hope of ascending the mountain that day.
Reluctant to abandon their excursion, now that they were so near the
goal, it was decided that Crawford should go to his home for more
provisions and return to the camp. Crawford arrived home tired from a
slow and wearisome journey through the rain and mud. His brother Thomas,
who happened to be at the house, cheerfully consented to take his place.
When the latter arrived at the camp, he found that the rain had put out
the fire and that the party were holding a council as to what was to be
done. He told them that it would be very unpleasant, if not dangerous,
to remain where they were, and that by rapid traveling it might be
possible to reach the house. By fast walking, by wading, and by crossing
the swollen streams on trees cut down and laid across to serve as
bridges, they managed to reach the house safely about eight o'clock in
the evening. Fortunately, they reached the bridge over the Ammonoosuc
just in time to pass over it before it was swept away. Had they
remained, they would have shared the same fate as the Willey family, or,
at least, have suffered greatly from cold, hunger, and exposure. On the
following Wednesday, the water having by that time sufficiently subsided
to permit the fording of the Ammonoosuc, with Thomas Crawford for guide,
some of the party, with the addition of another small party from the
West, achieved the ascent of the mountain, although they had much
difficulty in finding their way owing to the destructive effect of the
rain on the path.
Farther down the Ammonoosuc, at Rosebrook's,
and elsewhere in the valley, much damage was done, although conditions
were not so bad as at Crawford's. Many other slides, also, besides the
one at the Willey House, devastated great areas on the slopes of the
Mountains, notably a very extensive one on the west side of Mount
Pleasant.
Such, then, were some of the effects of this most
remarkable storm in White Mountain history, which will be ever memorable
for its destruction of property and human life.
The disaster at
the Willey House did not deter others from occupying it, for, somewhat
more than a year after, a man named Pendexter moved into it with the
object chiefly of affording entertainment for travelers during the
winter. Some time after his removal a storm, not so severe as that of
1826, but yet a very heavy one, took place. The impressive circumstances
of this terrific storm of thunder, lightning, and rain, together with
the remembrance of what had occurred there, so affected the family then
residing there, that, it is said, not a word was spoken for nearly half
an hour.
Transcribed and contributed Jan 2001 by Karen Heath Penman
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