Notes on the State of Virginia (1802)/Queary 04
QUEARY IV.
A NOTICE of its Mountains?
For the particular geography of our mountains I muſt refer to Fry and Jefferſon's map of Virginia; and to Evan'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 as they advance north-eaſtwardly. To the ſouth-weſt, as the tract of country between the ſea-coaſt and the Miſſiſippi 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 the 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 water courſe. It is in fact the ſpine of the country between the Atlantic on one ſide, and the Miſſiſippi and St. Lawrence 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 foot, 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 form 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 foreground. It is as placid and delightful, as that is wild and tremendous. For the mountain being cloven aſunder, the 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 Fredericktown, 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 centre. (B.)
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 Miſſiſippi, 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.
A ſubſtance, ſuppoſed to be pumice, found floating on the Miſſiſippi, has induced a conjecture, that there is a volcano on ſome of its waters: and as theſe are moſtly known to their ſources, except the Miſſouri, our expectations of verifying the conjecture would of courſe be led to the mountains which divide the waters of the Mexican Gulph from thoſe of the South Sea; but no volcano having ever yet been known at ſuch a diſtance from the ſea, we muſt rather ſuppoſe that this floating ſubſtance has been erroneouſly deemed pumice.