| QUERY IV
A notice
of its Mountains?
Mountains For the particular
geography of our mountains I must refer to Fry and Jefferson's map of Virginia;
and to Evans's analysis of his& map of America for a more philosophical
view of them than is to be found in any other work. It is worthy
notice, that our mountains are not solitary and scattered confusedly over
the face of the country but that they commence at about 150 miles from
the sea-coast, are disposed in ridges one behind another, running nearly
parallel with the sea-coast, though rather approaching it as they advance
north-eastwardly. To the south-west, as the tract of country between
the sea-coast and the Mississipi becomes narrower, the mountains converge
into a single ridge, which, as it approaches the Gulph of Mexico, subsides
into plain country, and gives rise to some of the waters of that Gulph,
and particularly to a river called the Apalachicola, probably from the
Apalachies, an Indian nation formerly residing on it. Hence the mountains
giving rise to that river, and seen from its various parts, were called
the Apalachian mountains, being in fact the end or termination only of
the great ridges passing through the continent. European geographers
however extended the name northwardly as far as the mountains extended;
some giving it, after their separation into different ridges, to the Blue
ridge, others to the North mountain, others to the Alleghaney, others to
the Laurel ridge, as may be seen in their different maps. But the
fact I believe is, that none of these ridges were ever known by that name
to the inhabitants, either native or emigrant, but as they saw them so
called in European maps. In the same direction generally are the
veins of lime-stone, coal and other minerals hitherto discovered: and so
range the falls of our great rivers. But the courses of the great
rivers are at right angles with these. James and Patowmac penetrate
through all the ridges of mountains eastward of the Alleghaney; that is
broken by no watercourse. It is in fact the spine of the country
between the Atlantic on one side, and the Missisipi and St. Laurence on
the other. The passage of the Patowmac through the Blue ridge is
perhaps one of the most stupendous scenes in nature. You stand on
a very high point of land. On your right comes up the Shenandoah,
having ranged along the foot of the mountain an hundred miles to seek a
vent. On your left approaches the Patowmac, in quest of a passage
also. In the moment of their junction they rush together against
the mountain, rend it asunder, and pass off to the sea. The first
glance of this scene hurries our senses into the opinion, that this earth
has been created in time, that the mountains were formed first, that the
rivers began to flow afterwards, that in this place particularly they have
been dammed up by the Blue ridge of mountains, and have formed an ocean
which filled the whole valley; that continuing to rise they have at length
broken over at this spot, and have torn the mountain down from its summit
to its base. The piles of rock on each hand, but particularly on
the Shenandoah, the evident marks of their disrupture and avulsion from
their beds by the most powerful agents of nature, corroborate the impression.
But the distant finishing which nature has given to the picture is of a
very different character. It is a true contrast to the fore-ground.
It is as placid and delightful, as that is wild and tremendous. For
the mountain being cloven asunder, she presents to your eye, through the
cleft, a small catch of smooth blue horizon, at an infinite distance in
the plain country, inviting you, as it were, from the riot and tumult roaring
around, to pass through the breach and participate of the calm below.
Here the eye ultimately composes itself; and that way too the road happens
actually to lead. You cross the Patowmac above the junction, pass
along its side through the base of the mountain for three miles, its terrible
precipices hanging in fragments over you, and within about 20 miles reach
Frederic town and the fine country round that. This scene is worth
a voyage across the Atlantic. Yet here, as in the neighbourhood of
the natural bridge, are people who have passed their lives within half
a dozen miles, and have never been to survey these monuments of a war between
rivers and mountains, which must have shaken the earth itself to its center.
-- The height of our mountains has not yet been estimated with any degree
of exactness. The Alleghaney being the great ridge which divides
the waters of the Atlantic from those of the Missisipi, its summit is doubtless
more elevated above the ocean than that of any other mountain. But
its relative height, compared with the base on which it stands, is not
so great as that of some others, the country rising behind the successive
ridges like the steps of stairs. The mountains of the Blue ridge,
and of these the Peaks of Otter, are thought to be of a greater height,
measured from their base, than any others in our country, and perhaps in
North America. From data, which may found a tolerable conjecture,
we suppose the highest peak to be about 4000 feet perpendicular, which
is not a fifth part of the height of the mountains of South America, nor
one third of the height which would be necessary in our latitude to preserve
ice in the open air unmelted through the year. The ridge of mountains
next beyond the Blue ridge, called by us the North mountain, is of the
greatest extent; for which reason they were named by the Indians the Endless
mountains.
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