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 BY 
 
 FRED 1SZ"EBSTEF 
 
O'l -nf^ 
 
 ^T2H3w a:i^.^ 
 
PICTURESQUE 
 
 NORTH CONWAY 
 
 ^^W . 
 
 Ten Drawings from my Sketch-Book while rambling in the 
 Valley of the Saco 
 
 Fred Webster 
 
 FOR SALE By 
 
 DAMKELL & UPHAM (Old Corxer Bookstore) 
 2S0 Washington Siki-.kt, Boston 
 
 V. 
 
 \% . 
 
 X 
 
 Ji 
 
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Copyrighted 
 
 FRED WEBSTER 
 
 1889 
 
 .N8W3 
 
IN MEMORY OF 
 
 flD^ mite 
 
iUiJ5TWOI^5- 
 
 PACE 
 
 North Con-way Ledges _ _ . _ _ Cover 
 
 Eiicbanied IVoods ------- p 
 
 Mount Kearsarge - - - - - - - ii 
 
 TIjompson's Falts - - - - - - - n 
 
 Echo Lal:e -------- j^ 
 
 Pitman's Arclj - - - - - - - -17 
 
 Diana's BatJjs - - - - - - - -19 
 
 TIjc Intervale - - - - - - - -21 
 
 Artist's Falls -------- 2^ 
 
 Moonlig/jt on the Saco ------ 2y 
 
 Bartletf Bowlder ------- 27 
 
<N RAMBLES. N:^ 
 
 '* If tliou art worn and Iiard bpset 
 With sorrows that thou wouldst forget, 
 If tliou wouldst read a lesson that will keep 
 Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, 
 Go to the woods and hills! No tears 
 Dim the sweet look that Nature wears." — Longfellow. 
 
 yllEX the first wiltl-flowers bloomed along tlie roadsides, we began 
 to tliink of an outing. "Where should we go for a few early 
 summer rambles ? Somehow we got to talking about North Conway. 
 
 " Let us have a look at the White Mountains from the elf-land vales 
 of the Saco," said one. 
 
 "I eould eat a mountain this minute!" cried the other. 
 
 Forty-eight hours later we had been whirled northward past Chocorhua's 
 sky-piercing peak, and had settled in our comfortable lodgings between 
 Kearsarge, "lifting his Titan forehead to the sun," and "the league-long 
 ridge " of ISIoat. 
 
 New Hampshire has been well called the Switzerland of America. 
 Therein, against all rivals, North Couway retains, and may be expected 
 to keep, its surpassing attractions to artists and tourists. It is "beautiful 
 for situation " to a degree not realized except by those who stay there 
 long enough to take its walks and drives, and witness the magical trans- 
 formations of its scenery. "Nature," says Drake, "has formed here a 
 vast antechamber, into which you are ushered through a gate-way of 
 mountains ujTOn the numerous inner courts, galleries, and cloisters of her 
 most secluded retreats." " Certainly," said Starr King, " we have seen no 
 other region of New England so swathed in dreamy (diarm." 
 
 Our first ramble, on the morning after our arrival, was in the Enchanted 
 Woods, a spacious grove of tall pines and lesser growths lying close to 
 the village on the north — "a sable, silent, solemn forest." Philosophers 
 who want to muse will find this a delightful spot — provided they are al)Ove 
 such petty annoyances as mosipiitoes. Lovers who want to get away from 
 an unsympathizing world can find no more charming retreat than this — in 
 pleasant weather. Artists who .sei'k exquisite woodland effects will not 
 miss them here. And just here, where the silence is broken only by the 
 soft sighing of the wind in tlie tree-tops, and tlie commingled sounds of 
 
 7 
 
.A'. "•' 
 
 ^c1v?5J\UAWoo(Ij 
 
MotlN't r(eafsar<5e 
 
 the tiny ik'nizens of tlie wood, at the entrance to this high-arclied and dusky 
 avenue, so suggestive of tlie enchanted groves of which Ariosto and Tasso 
 sung, let us sit down and make a sketch. 
 
 North of the Enclianted Woods are the Cathedral Woods, and still 
 farther away rises in airy outlines the huge but graceful pyramid of Mount 
 Kearsarge. The views to be had of this mountain all through tlie valley 
 are innumerable, and without exception delightful ; for Kearsarge is, as some 
 one has said, " a mountain with a soul in it." It is not a very high peak, 
 in comparison with the monarchs that guard the Notch, but is so placed 
 that its three thousand feet show through all the landscape to the utmost 
 advantage. It is easily ascended, and there is a liouse on its summit that 
 is open for a time in mid-summer. 
 
 "Oil. lift thy head, thou mountain lone, 
 
 Ami mate thee with the sun ! 
 Thy ro.sy clouds are valeward hlmvn. 
 Thy stars that near at midnight shone, 
 
 (Jone heavenward, one hy one. 
 And half of earth, and half of .air. 
 Thou risest vast, and gray, and bare, 
 
 And crowned with glory." 
 
 One bright warm morning we walked a little more than a mile and a half 
 to Echo Lake, which lies near the northern end of Jloat Mountain, and is 
 watched over pn its western side by two of the famous leilges which extend 
 for several miles along the valley. These cliffs are " shagged with wood " 
 and highly picturesque. The lake is a lovely little " mirror of the skies." 
 
 11 
 
Here we drank in balm and quietness amid surroundings the same that the 
 Indian hunter found, centuries ago, when panting in the chase he came 
 suddenly upon this rare scene of sylvan loveliness. How limpid the waters, 
 save when darkening near the lofty cliffs, broken by the leaping fish, and 
 occasionally touched by the kissing breeze. Lift your voice and count the 
 sweet resonances that are thrown successively back from rock and wood 
 and glen. 
 
 Xot far from the Cathedral Ledge is Diana's Baths, " where a mountain 
 brook dashes and slides downward over long sheets and shelves of granite, 
 with here and there a bright little cascade, or a deep water-worn pool cut 
 in the solid rock, and around which the swirling stream rushes in sparkling 
 eddies, polishing the ledges to a glassy smoothness." One charming spot, 
 though not everybody has seen it or can easily find it, is up among the thick 
 woods through which Elm Brook finds its tortuous and mysterious way, a 
 little south of the White Horse Ledge. Here is "a loud and white-robed 
 waterfall." Thompson's Falls well repay the toil of a visit to those who 
 have the courage and the limbs to find it. 
 
 A pleasant drive, with an interesting object in view, is north about six 
 miles, a little beyond Glen Station, to the Bartlett Bowlder, which is near 
 the roadside on an elevation above the Saco. It stands, a huge bulk, poised 
 upon a few smaller bowlders, just where it was left in some mighty land- 
 slide perhaps before " Adam delved and Eve span " — " monumental of an 
 earlier world." Leaving the Bowlder, following the road south tlirough the 
 covered bridge over the Saco, and taking an easterly course overlooking the 
 valley, we gaze enraptured upon a magnificent panorama. 
 
 15 
 
4 
 
 r**^*^ n 
 
 ^' ^ ^ CH 
 
" Mountains stern and desolate, 
 But in the majesty of distance now 
 Set off, and to our view appearing fair 
 Of aspect, witli aerial aspect clad. 
 And beautified with morning's purple 
 beams." 
 
 After a while we come to Humplirey's Ledge, about two miles north of 
 the Cathedral Ledge. Here is to be seen, high up on the front of the cliff, 
 facing the east, the curious and much-visited Pitman's Arch. " From the 
 cavern inside this noble Gothic arch one may look out across the tree-tops 
 below, and over the bends of the silvery Saco, flashing through its sweet 
 intervales, and so on to the tall mountains that enwall the vale and raise 
 their dark sierras against the sky." The toji of Humphrey's Ledge may be 
 reached by carriage. It is a hard climb, but the view from the top amply 
 repays the climber. 
 
 "Touched by a li,i;ht that hath no name, 
 A glory never sung. 
 Aloft on sky and mountain wall 
 Are God's great pictures hung." 
 
 We sought in our rambles the i)icturesque and interesting localities south 
 of the village, between the Green Hills and the Saco. They occur chiefly 
 along the course of a winding, gurgling, and sometimes dashing stream that 
 has its rise at the foot of Green ^Mountain, and, after flowing a little more 
 than two miles, delivers itself into the broad bosom of the Saco. This is 
 Artist's Brook. It abounds in all the captivating features of a moiuitain 
 lirook. Xow it hurries, and anon it moves slowly like a cajiricious child 
 meditating some new freak ; it " tumbles down the woody stee])s " ; it widens 
 into "whitening shallows"; it goes straight forward; it turns and twists 
 about ; at times it wears a sober look, and at times it laughs gleefully up 
 through the interlacing brandies of overhanging trees; it seeks the shadows; 
 it dances or sleeps in the sunshine. 
 
 19 
 
1 
 
 Kkrvj^ir^^- 
 
" I steal by lawns ami gf-i^sy plots. 
 
 I sliiie by hazel covers ; 
 I move the sweet forget-me-nots 
 
 'I'hat f;row for happy lovers. 
 I slip. I slide, I Rloom, 1 glance, 
 
 Among my skimming swallows; 
 I make the netted sunbeam ilance 
 
 Against my sandy shallows. 
 
 Two points of special interest to lovers of tlie iiictiires(ine, aloiiL; this 
 charming stream, are Artist's Falls and the nei^hljoiiiood of the old mill — 
 "a favorite sketching-ground of artists." Tlie Falls are at the foot of 
 Peaked Mountain, about a mile east of the road. AVheji seen to the best 
 advantage, in "exquisite tangles of foliage and light," thej' ju.stify their 
 reputation. " The hrook," says Drake, " flowing first over a smooth granite 
 ledge, collects in a little pool below, out of which the pure water filters 
 
 23 
 
through bowhlers aud among glittering pebbles to a gorge between two rocks, 
 down which it phinges. The beauty of this cascade consists iu its wayward- 
 ness. Now it is a thin sheet, flowing demurely along ; now it breaks out 
 in uncontrollable antics ; and at length, as if tired of this sport, darts like 
 an arrow down the rocky fissure, and is a mountain brook again." 
 
 One of the pictures which are forever a part of the soid's wealth is that 
 obtained at some well-chosen spot, of the choicest section of the famous 
 Intervale. Looking north, across this Edenic scene, as " soft as the landscape 
 of a dream," above the lowlands that once constituted the bed of a vast flood 
 of waters, " nowhere is the unapproachable grandeur of Jlount AVashington 
 more fully manifested." Over the lesser heights of the middle distance, 
 " the great peak lords it with undisputed sway. The bold and firm, though 
 gradual, lines of ascent culminating at the apex, extend over leagues of 
 sky." Another scene which for us hangs high in memory's gallery is that 
 of the Saco Kiver by moonlight. 
 
 "Sweet stream ! it were a, fate divine, 
 
 Till this world's toils ainl t.asks were done, 
 To go, like those bright tloods of thine. 
 
 Refreshing all, enslaved by none. — 
 To pass through scenes of calm and strife, 
 
 Singing, like thee, with holy niirlli. 
 And close in peace a varieil life, 
 
 I'nsullied by one stain of earth." 
 
 27 
 
H 106 89 4 
 

 
 
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