CURIOSITIES RESPECTING MOUNTAINS.

Natural Description Of Mountains.

Almost all the tops of the highest mountains are bare and pointed; which proceeds from their being continually assaulted by storms and tempests. All the earthy substances with which they might have been once covered, have for ages been washed away from their summits; and nothing is left but immense rocks, which no tempest has hitherto been able to destroy. Nevertheless, time is every day making depredations, and huge fragments are seen tumbling down the precipices, either loosened from their summits by the rains and frost, or struck down by lightning. Nothing can exhibit a more terrible picture than one of these enormous masses, commonly larger than a house, falling from its height, and rolling down the side of the mountain with a noise louder than thunder. Dr. Plot tells us of one in particular, which being loosened from its bed, rolled down the precipice, and was partly shattered into a thousand pieces. One of the largest fragments, however, still preserving its motion, travelled over the plain below, crossed a rivulet in the midst, and at last stopped on the other side of the bank! These fragments are often struck off by lightning, and sometimes undermined by rains; but the most usual manner in which they are disunited from the mountain is by frost: the rains first insinuate and find their way between the interstices of the mountain, and continue there until by the intense cold they are converted into ice, when the water swells with an irresistible force, and produces the same effect as gunpowder, splitting the most solid rocks, and thus shattering their summits. Sometimes whole mountains are, by various causes, disunited from each other. In many parts of the Alps, there are amazing clefts, the sides of which so exactly correspond with the opposite, that no doubt can be entertained of their having been once joined. At Cajeta, in Italy, a mountain was split in this manner by an earthquake; and there is a passage opened through it, that appears as if done by the industry of man.In the Andes these breaches are often seen. That at ThermopylÆ in Greece has been long famous. The mountain of the Troglodytes in Arabia has thus a passage through it; and that in the late duchy of Savoy, which Nature began, and which Victor Amadeus completed, is an instance of the same kind. “In June, 1714, a part of the mountain of Diableret, in the district of Valais, in France, suddenly fell down, between two and three P. M. the weather being very calm and serene. This mountain, which was of a conical figure, destroyed fifty-five cottages in its fall. Fifteen persons, with about one hundred beasts, were also crushed beneath its ruins, which covered an extent of ground of a league square. The dust it occasioned instantly enveloped all the neighbourhood in darkness. The heaps of rubbish were more than three hundred feet high. They stopped the current of a river that ran along the plain, which now is formed into several new and deep lakes. There appeared, through the whole of this rubbish, none of those substances that seemed to indicate that this catastrophe had been occasioned by means of subterraneous fires. Most probably, the base of this rocky mountain had been decomposing through the lapse of many ages, and thus fell without any extraneous violence.”

In 1618, the town of Fleurs, in France, was buried beneath a rocky mountain, at the foot of which it was situated. Such accidents are produced by various causes: by earthquakes; by being decayed at the bottom; or by the foundation of one part of the mountain being hollowed by waters, and, thus wanting a support, breaking from the other. Thus it generally has been found in the great chasms in the Alps; and it is almost always the case in those disruptions of hills, called land-slips: these are nothing more than the sliding down of a higher piece of ground, driven from its situation by subterraneous inundations, and settling upon the plain below. There is not an appearance in nature that so much astonished our ancestors as these land-slips. To behold a large upland, with its houses, corn, and cattle, at once loosened from its place, and floating as it were upon the subjacent water,—to see it quitting its ancient situation, and sailing forward like a ship,—is certainly one of the most extraordinary appearances that can be imagined, and, to a people ignorant of the powers of nature, might well be considered as a prodigy. Accordingly, we find all our old historians mentioning it as an omen of approaching calamities. In this more enlightened age, however, its cause is well known; and, instead of exciting ominous apprehensions in the populace, it only gives rise to some very ridiculous law-suits among the several claimants, whose the property thus divided from its kindred soil shall be; whether the land shall belong to the original possessor, or to him upon whose grounds it has encroached and settled.

In the lands of Hatberg, in Ireland, there stood a declivity gradually ascending for nearly half a mile. On the 10th of March, 1713, the inhabitants perceived a crack on its side, like a furrow made with a plough, which they imputed to the effects of lightning, as there had been a thunder-storm the night before. However, on the evening of the same day, they were surprised to hear a hideous confused noise issuing all around from the side of the hill; and their curiosity being awakened, they resorted to the place. There, to their amazement, they found an extent of ground, of nearly five acres, all in gentle motion, and sliding down the hill upon the subjacent plain. This motion, together with the noise, continued the remaining part of the day, and the whole of the following night; the noise proceeding, probably, from the attrition of the ground beneath. The day following, this strange journey down the hill ceased; and above an acre of the meadow below was found covered with what before composed a part of the declivity. But such tremendous land-slips, when a whole mountain’s side descends, happen very rarely.

There are some of another kind, however, much more common; and as they are always sudden, much more dangerous. These are snow-slips, or avalanches, well known, and greatly dreaded by travellers. They are justly described in the following beautiful lines of one of our poets:—

By an hundred winters piled,
Where the glaciers, dark with death,
Hang o’er precipices wild,
Hang suspended by a breath.
If a pulse but throb alarm,
Headlong down the steeps they fall;
For a pulse will break the charm,
Bounding, bursting, burying all.

It often happens, that when snow has long been accumulated on the tops and on the sides of mountains, it is borne down the precipice either by tempests, or by its own melting. At first, when loosened, the volume in motion is but small, but it gathers as it continues to roll; and by the time it has reached the habitable parts of the mountain, it is generally grown to an enormous bulk. Wherever it rolls, it levels all things in its way, or buries them in unavoidable destruction. Instead of rolling, it sometimes is found to slide along from the top; yet even thus, it is generally fatal. Nevertheless, we had an instance a few years ago, of a small family in Germany, that lived for above a fortnight under one of these snow-slips. Although they were buried during the whole of that time in utter darkness, and under a bed of some hundreds of feet deep, yet they were providentially taken out alive; the weight of the snow being supported by a beam that kept up the roof, and nourishment supplied to them by the milk of a she-goat, that was buried under the same ruin.

A Description of the Peak in Derbyshire, from Moritz’s Travels in several parts of England.

Having arrived in Derbyshire, a distance of 170 miles from London, the author thus describes the town of Castleton, in which the Peak is situated:—

“I ascended one of the highest hills, and all at once perceived a beautiful vale below me, which was traversed by rivers and brooks, and inclosed on all sides by hills. In this vale lies Castleton, a small town, with low houses; so named from an old castle, whose ruins are still to be seen here.

“A narrow path, which wound itself down the side of the rock, led me through the vale into the street of Castleton, where I found an inn, and dined. After dinner, I made the best of my way to the cavern.

“A little rivulet, which runs through the middle of the town, led me to its entrance.

“I stood here a few moments, full of wonder and astonishment at the amazing height of the steep rock before me, covered on each side with ivy and other shrubs. At its summit are the decayed walls and towers of an ancient castle, which formerly stood on this rock; and at its foot the monstrous aperture, or mouth to the entrance of the cavern; where it is totally dark, even at mid-day.

“As I was standing here full of admiration, I perceived at the entrance of the cavern, a man of a rude and rough appearance, who asked me if I washed to see the Peak; and an echo strongly reverberated his coarse voice.

“Answering him in the affirmative, he next inquired if I should want to be carried to the other side of the stream; telling me at the same time what the sum would be which I must pay for it.

“This man had, along with his black stringy hair, and his dirty and tattered clothes, such a singularly wild and infernal look, that he actually struck me as a real Charon: his voice, and the questions he asked me, were not of a kind to remove this notion; so that far from its requiring any effort of imagination, I found it not easy to avoid believing, that at length I had actually reached Avernus,—was about to cross Acheron,—and to be ferried by Charon!

“I had no sooner agreed to his demand, than he told me, all I had to do was boldly to follow him,—and thus we entered the cavern.“In the entrance of the cavern lay the trunk of a tree that had been cut down, on which several of the boys of the town were playing.

“Our way seemed to be altogether on a descent, though not steep; so that the light, which came in at the mouth of the cavern near the entrance, gradually forsook it; and when we had gone forward a few steps farther, I was astonished by a sight, which, of all others, I here the least expected: I perceived to the right, in the hollow of the cavern, a whole subterranean village, where the inhabitants, on account of its being Sunday, were resting from their work, and with happy and cheerful looks were sitting at the doors of their huts along with their children.

“We had scarcely passed these small subterranean houses, when I perceived a number of large wheels, on which on weekdays these human moles, the inhabitants of the cavern, made ropes.

“I fancied I here saw the wheel of Ixion, and the incessant labour of the DanaÏdes.

“The opening through which the light came, seemed, as we descended, every moment to become less and less, and the darkness at every step to increase, till at length only a few rays appeared, as if darting through a crevice, and just tingeing the small clouds of smoke which at dusk raised themselves to the mouth of the cavern.

“This gradual increase of darkness awakens in a contemplative mind a soft melancholy. As you go down the gentle descent of the cavern, you can hardly help fancying the moment is come when you are about to bid a final farewell to the abodes of mortals.

“At length the great cavern in the rock closed itself, in the same manner as heaven and earth seem to join in the horizon. We then approached a little door, where an old woman came out of one of the huts, and brought two candles, of which we each took one.

“My guide now opened the door, which completely shut out the faint glimmering of daylight, which till then it was still possible to perceive, and led us to the inmost centre of this dreary temple of old Chaos and Night, as if till now we had only been traversing the outer coasts of their dominions. The rock was here so low that we were obliged to stoop very much for some few steps, in order to get through; but how great was my astonishment, when we had passed this narrow passage, and again stood upright, at once to perceive, as well as the feeble light of the candles would permit, the amazing length, breadth, and height of the cavern, compared to which, the monstrous opening through which we had already passed was nothing.“After we had wandered here more than an hour, as beneath a dark and dusky sky, on a level sandy soil, the rock gradually lowered itself, and we suddenly found ourselves on the edge of a broad river, which, from the glimmering of our candles amid the total darkness, suggested a variety of interesting reflections. To the side of this river a small boat was moored, with some straw in its bottom. Into this vehicle my guide desired me to step, and lay myself down in it quite flat, because, as he said, towards the middle of the river the rock would almost touch the water.

“When I had laid myself down as directed, he himself jumped into the water, and drew the boat after him. All around us was one still, solemn, and deadly silence; and as the boat advanced, the rock seemed to stoop, and come nearer and nearer to us, till at length it nearly touched my face; and, as I lay, I could hardly hold the candle upright. I seemed to myself to be in a coffin rather than in a boat, as I had no room to stir hand or foot till we had passed this frightful strait, and the rock rose again on the other side,—where my guide once more handed me ashore.

“The cavern was now become all at once broad and high, and then suddenly it was again low and narrow. I observed on both sides, as we passed along, a prodigious number of great and small petrified plants and animals; but these we could not examine, unless we had been disposed to spend some days in the cavern.

“And thus we arrived at the opposite side, at the second river or stream, which, however, was not so broad as the first, as one may see across it to the other side: over this stream my guide carried me on his shoulders, because there was here no boat to ferry us.

“From thence we only went a few steps farther, when we came to a very small piece of water, which extended itself lengthways, and led us to the end of the cavern.

“The path along the edge of this water was wet and slippery, and sometimes so very narrow that I could hardly set one foot before the other.

“Notwithstanding, I wandered with pleasure on this subterraneous shore, and was regaling myself with the interesting contemplation of all these various wonderful objects, in this land of darkness, and shadow of death,—when, all at once, something like music at a distance sounded in my ears. I instantly stopped, full of astonishment, and eagerly asked my guide what this might mean. He answered, “Only have patience, and you shall soon see.” But as we advanced, the sounds of harmony seemed to die away, the noise became weaker, and at length it appeared to dwindle into a gentle hissing or hum, like distant drops of falling rain.“It is not difficult to imagine how great was my wonder, when ere long I actually saw and felt a violent shower of rain falling from the rock as from a thick cloud, threatening to extinguish our candles, and leave us in entire darkness. It was this that had caused the melancholy sound which I had heard at a distance, the soft notes of which had been assisted by the distant echo.

“To this shower which fell from the ceiling or roof of the cavern through the veins of the rock, the inhabitants had given the name of a mizzling rain.

“We continued our march along the sides of the water, and often saw on its banks large apertures of the rock, which seemed to be new or subordinate caverns, all of which we passed without looking into. At length my guide prepared me for one of the finest sights we had yet beheld, and which was now soon to burst on our view.

“We had gone but a few paces farther, when we entered what might easily be taken for a majestic temple, with lofty arches, supported by beautiful pillars, formed by the plastic hand of some ingenious artist.

“This subterraneous temple, in the structure of which no human hand had borne a part, appeared to me at that moment to surpass all the most stupendous buildings I had ever seen, in point of regularity, magnificence, and beauty.

“Deeply impressed with awe and reverence at this grand display of the Creator’s works, my mind became insensibly solemnized; and I felt that it became me silently to adore the Author of all, and acknowledge the hand of the divine Architect.”

From the Peak in Derbyshire, we shall conduct our reader to Snowden in Wales; to the top of which Miss Elizabeth Smith, a young lady of uncommon attainments, made an excursion, and published an account of her adventure, in nearly the following language.

“Snowden is the loftiest of the Welsh mountains, being 3020 feet above the level of the sea.

“We set off, about eleven at night, for the foot of Snowden, and travelled eight miles through a fine mountainous country, by moon-light. Before one, we arrived at a little hut where the guide lives; and after having him called up, and loaded with a basket of bread and milk, and a tin box for specimens, we began our march at a quarter past one. The clouds were gathering over the mountains, and threatening us with either darkness or rain. We however escaped both, and were only amused with every variety they could give the landscape, by hiding or obscuring the moon, and blotting out now one mountain, and now another, from our view; till about two o’clock, when the dawn began to appear, they covered the moon, and we saw her no more. We proceeded by a very easy ascent over boggy ground till half past two, when, coming suddenly to the top of the first range of hills, and meeting with a violent wind which blew from the quarter where the sun was to rise, (for we ascended the mountain on the south west,) Mrs. G. S. was frightened, and seeing a very steep ascent before her, said she would sit down and wait our return. My mother said she would stay with her, and I proposed our all going back together; but my mother very kindly insisted on my proceeding. We therefore divided our provisions; the ladies returned to the hut from which they had set out, and I went on with the guide, who could not speak a word of English. We steered our course more towards the south, and toiled up several mountains, in some parts covered with loose stones, which had fallen from their broken summits, but in general overgrown with different sorts of moss, and a kind of short grass, mixed with immense quantities of the galium pusillum. I picked up a few other plants, but on the whole was disappointed in the botanical way, as I found very little that I had not before met with on the mountains in this neighbourhood; however, this is not the time of the year (July) for mountain curiosities. I went on as fast as I could, without stopping, except now and then for a moment to look down on the mountains under my feet, as clouds passed over them, thinking each summit I saw before me was the last, and unable to gain any information from my guide to satisfy my impatience, for I wished to be at the top before sun-rise, and pink clouds now began to appear over the steep I was climbing. I also knew that the ladies would be very impatient for my return; nor was I without anxiety on their account, as I was not sure they would find their way back to the hut. These ideas occupied my mind all the way up; and if that deceitful, but comforting lady, Hope, had not continually presented to me the range of hills I was ascending as the last step in ambition’s ladder, I am not sure that, with all my eagerness to get on the top, I should not have returned back.

“I was debating this point very earnestly with myself, in ascending an almost perpendicular green slope, when, on a sudden, I saw at my feet an immense chasm, all in darkness, and of a depth I cannot guess, certainly not less than a hundred feet; I should suppose much more. It answers in some respects to the idea I have formed of the crater of a violent valcano, but evidently is not that, as there is no mark of fire, the rock being composed, as it is in general throughout this country, of a sort of slate. Nor does the mountain appear to have been thrown down, but the pit to have sunk in; which must probably has been occasioned by subterranean waters, as there is water at the bottom of the pit, and the mountain is full of springs. You think now you are at the top, but you are mistaken. I am standing indeed at the top of the abyss, but with a high rocky peak on each side of me, and descending almost perpendicularly into the lake at the bottom. I have been taking a rough sketch of one of these peaks, with the lake in the deepest shadow; I am turning over my paper, which the wind renders very difficult, in order to draw another; I look up, and the upper part illuminated by a beautiful rose-coloured light, while the opposite part still casts a dark shade over its base, and conceals the sun from my view. If I were ready to jump into the pit with delight at first seeing it, my ecstasy now was still greater. The guide seemed quite delighted to see me so much pleased, and took care, in descending, to lead me to the edge of every precipice, which he had not done in going up. I, however, presently recollected, that I was in a great hurry to get back, and set off along the brink of the cavity for the highest peak, where I arrived at a quarter past four, and saw a view, of which it is impossible to form any idea from description. For many miles around, it was composed of tops of high mountains, of all the various forms that can be imagined: some appeared swimming in an ocean of vapour; on others, the clouds lay like a cap of snow, appearing as soft as down. They were all far below Snowden, and I was enjoying the finest blue sky, and the purest air I ever breathed. The whole prospect was bounded by the sea, except to the east and south-east, and the greatest part of the lands in those parts were blotted out by clouds. The sun, however, rose so far toward the north-east, as to be still hanging over the sea. I took a sketch of a small part of the mountains, with some of the little lakes which appear at their feet,—sat down, for the first time, on a circle of stones which is built on the top of the hill,—and made great havock in the bread and milk, in which achievement the guide equalled, if not surpassed me,—and at half past four, almost frozen, I began to descend. My anxiety about my friends increased, as I came near the spot where I had left them; I made all possible haste, and found them safe in the hut, at ten minutes past six. It certainly would have been pleasanter to have had more time, and some one to enjoy the expedition with me; but I am delighted that I have been, and would not for any thing give up the recollection of the sublime scene.”

We shall close this chapter with an account of Skiddaw.—This is a mountain of England, in Cumberland, one of the most remarkable in the kingdom, being above 3000 feet in perpendicular height, from the surface of the Derwent-water, which lake is far distant from the sea, and high above its level from this circumstance. Skiddaw is reckoned the highest mountain in England. The prospect from its top is very extensive, and, being detached from other mountains, forms a grand object from various points of view. It is easy of access, and the sides are covered with grass. At the top, the atmosphere is uncommonly rare. It is covered with loose brown slate-stone.