Imagini ale paginilor
PDF
ePub

Un

wife was a granddaughter of Mr. was afterwards burned, which conWhitehouse, responded to my letter. Mr. Whitehouse died October 27, 1866, aged one hundred years, six months, and seventeen days. He was living, when quite a small boy, in the old Livius house when it was burned. The house of Mr. Hodgdon

tained many valuable historical manuscripts from Mr. Whitehouse. less a copy of the Wolfeborough paper can be found, we are not likely to know any more of the old Judge Livius premises.

THE PINKHAM NOTCH.

BY PERSIS F. CHASE.

The visitors to the White Mountains, especially those who have been on the east side, to the Glen, have heard of, and very likely driven through, the Pinkham woods, or Notch.

This road, which extends from Jackson to Randolph, a distance of twelve miles, was constructed through the wilderness, between two ranges of the White Mountains, by Daniel Pinkham, a resident of Jackson. It was commenced in 1824, and two years were required to complete it. Before the construction of this road the people of Jackson were in a measure isolated from the rest of the world, having no public road through the town. Mr. Pinkham made a contract with the state to build a good carriage road through this unbroken forest of heavy growth, along side-hills, and across rapid streams; for this work he was to receive from the state a quitclaim deed to a tract of land one half mile wide on each side of the road, from the Jackson line, to Gorham, and all the state land in Jackson. At that time the White Mountains were just beginning to attract visitors.

Mr. Pinkaam believed that this road would become the great highway for mountain travellers, and that the land in that locality would become greatly increased in value; that the forest would disappear before the axe of the new settler, and the wilderness be transformed into productive farms. He also thought that a carriage-road would be built from the present site of the Glen House to the summit of Mt. Washington.

Mr. Pinkham lived to see this part of his prophecy fulfilled; but it is more than sixty years since this road was completed, and the primeval forest still borders it on either side, as it did in 1824.

The Notch, or narrowest part of the road, is just at the Glen Ellis falls, where the mountains are not more than a quarter of a mile apart. The slope of the mountains is gradual, and there is not any of the grandeur of the White or Franconia Notches; but yet it is a beautiful and picturesque place, and well worth a visit.

On the fourth of July, 1826, before a road had been made to the top of Mt. Washington from this side, Mr.

Pinkham and a son-in-law, Joseph Hanson, determined to erect a flagpole on the summit. They started up the mountain, selecting as they passed through the woods a tree suitable for their purpose. Choosing one about thirty feet high, they cut it down, and soon transformed it into a flagpole, which they carried on their shoulders to the top of the mountain. After nailing a small flag to the pole, they raised it on the very summit, making it fast at the base with rocks; and for the first time the "Star Spangled Banner" floated from the top of Mt. Washington, and continued to do so until worn out by wind and storm.

There is a story of a very sagacious dog connected with Pinkham Notch. This dog was owned by Joseph Hanson, who had a house near the place where the Glen House now stands. One very cold and stormy winter day, one of Mr. Hanson's children, a little girl, was taken very sick It was extremely necessary to send word down through the woods to Mr. Pinkham's family, and to the doctor. Mr. Hanson could not leave home to go, and as a last resort resolved to send the dog, who was a remarkably intelligent animal. He wrote a note, which he tied around the dog's neck, and, taking him out into the storm,

told him he must go to Mr. Pinkham's and carry the letter; that little Lucy was very sick, and he must bring them help. The dog seemed to understand, and started off; but the dreadful storm probably discouraged him, for in about half an hour he returned whining, and apparently afraid. Mr. Hanson scolded him, and told him he must go. Again he started, and did not return until the next morning, when he came accompanied by Mrs. Pinkham and the doctor.

There is a highway robbery connected with the history of Pinkham woods. About four years ago, as the stage from the Glen House to Glen station in Bartlett was passing the Glen Ellis falls, two men armed with pistols emerged from the woods, seized the horses by their heads, and demanded the money and jewelry of the passengers. They received what they asked for, and disappeared in the woods, and were never discovered.

Mr. Pinkham, who was a preacher as well as pioneer, as it was he who preached the sermon at the funeral of the Willey family, did not succeed in making the land he received for building this road profitable, and finally sold out and went to Lancaster, a village about twenty miles from Pinkham woods, where he resided until his death.

TO AN OUT-BOUND SHIP.

I stand and watch them from the shore,
The white ships steal away
Silently down into the blue,
All at the close of day.

And from the cliff's bold brow I watch,
Through eyes made dim with tears,

One ship closer than all the rest,

As seaward swift she veers.

For yon white sail, in offing faint,
Than others fairer seems,

And proudly, amid all the fleet,
Her snowy canvas gleams.

For there, upon her wind-swept deck,
Upon her sea-worn floor,

Stands one I love to name as friend,

Fast fading from the shore.

And so, more than the others all,
I watch this faithful ship

Grow far and faint, and drop below
The ocean's curving lip.

More beauteous ships my eyes descry,
A-dancing o'er the foam;

But this one, dearer, holds my heart,'Tis she I watch alone.

And so I stand and watch my ship,

With eye and heart a-brim, Till hull and sail fade into fleck, And all the world grows dim.

And when the night draws darkly down,
I follow her, unseen,

And love to think her sailing on
Beneath a sky serene.

I follow her, with earnest thought,
Follow to every part;

Wherever my brave friend shall roam,
There shall he find my heart.

And so at home I wait, and watch
The days, like ships, go by,

And swift, with rosy canvas spread,
Sail down the evening sky,

And love to think of my good friend
Beyond the distant sea,
And wonder how his vessel fares,
And where his port may be.

I love to think, each closing day,
Those steadfast eyes of blue
Are gazing back to home and me,
All earnest, fond, and true.

I love to think how this dear heart,
Loving, tender, and brave,

Will fearless sail for life's sweet mede,
And patient breast the wave,

Until, with patience, he hath brought
To end the voyages all,

And eager, happy, home returns
Unto his cottage small.

I love to trustful give him thus
Into the dear Lord's care,
With a full heart and misty eye,
And just a little prayer.

And thus I love to sit and think,
And in the dear Lord's hand

Leave all my dear ones, far or near,
Upon the sea or land.

[graphic][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]
« ÎnapoiContinuă »