The Appalachian Highland
We have considered the Laurentian
highland and the glaciation which centered there. Let us now turn to
another highland only the northern part of which was glaciated. The
Appalachian highland, the second great division of North America, consists
of three parallel bands which extend southwestward from Newfoundland and
the St. Lawrence River to Georgia and Alabama. The eastern and most
important band consists of hills and mountains of ancient crystalline
rocks, somewhat resembling those of the Laurentian highland but by no
means so old. West of this comes a broad valley eroded for the most part
in the softer portions of a highly folded series of sedimentary rocks
which are of great age but younger than the crystalline rocks to the east.
The third band is the Alleghany plateau, composed of almost horizontal
rocks which lie so high and have been so deeply dissected that they are
often called mountains.
The three Appalachian bands by no means preserve a uniform character
throughout their entire length. The eastern crystalline band has its chief
development in the northeast. There it comprises the whole of New England
and a large part of the maritime provinces of Canada as well as
Newfoundland. Its broad development in New England causes that region to
be one of the most clearly defined natural units of the United States.
Ancient igneous rocks such as granite lie intricately mingled with old and
highly metamorphosed sediments. Since some of the rocks are hard and
others soft and since all have been exposed to extremely long erosion, the
topography of New England consists typically of irregular masses of
rounded hills free from precipices. Here and there hard masses of
unusually resistant rock stand up as isolated rounded heights, like Mount
Katahdin in Maine. They are known as "monadnocks" from the mountain of
that name in southern New Hampshire. In other places larger and more
irregular masses of hard rock form mountain groups like the White
Mountains, the Green Mountains, and the Berkshires, each of which is
merely a great series of monadnocks.
MonadnockMonadnock is an originally Native American term for an isolated hill or a lone mountain that has risen above the surrounding area, typically by surviving erosion. The name was taken from Mount Monadnock in New Hampshire (USA). The name is thought to derive from the Abenaki language, from either menonadenak ("smooth mountain") or menadena ("isolated mountain"). |
In the latitude of southern New York the crystalline rocks are
compressed into narrow compass and lose their mountainous character.
They form the irregular hills on which New York City itself is built
and which make the suburbs of Westchester County along the eastern
Hudson so diverse and beautiful. To the southeast the topography of
the old crystalline band becomes still less pronounced, as may be
seen in the rolling, fertile hills around Philadelphia. Farther
south the band divides into two parts, the mountains proper and the
Piedmont plateau. The mountains begin at the Blue Ridge, which in
Virginia raises its even-topped heights mile after mile across the
length of that State. In North Carolina, however, they lose their
character as a single ridge and expand into the broad mass of the
southern Appalachians. There Mount Mitchell dominates the eastern
part of the American continent and is surrounded by over thirty
other mountains rising to a height of at least six thousand feet.
The Piedmont plateau, which lies at the eastern foot of the Blue
Ridge, is not really a plateau but a peneplain or ancient lowland
worn almost to a plain. It expands to a width of one hundred miles
in Virginia and the Carolinas and forms the part of those States
where most of the larger towns are situated. Among its low gentle
heights there rises an occasional little Monadnock like Chapel Hill,
where the University of North Carolina lies on a rugged eminence
which strikingly recalls New England. For the most part, however,
the hills of the Piedmont region are lower and more rounded than
those in the neighborhood of Philadelphia. The country thus formed
has many advantages, for it is flat enough to be used for
agriculture and yet varied enough to be free from the monotony of
the level plains.
The prolonged and broken inner valley forming the second band of the
Appalachians was of some importance as a highway in the days of the
Indians. Today the main highways of traffic touch it only to cross
it as quickly as possible. From Lake Champlain it trends straight
southward in the Hudson Valley until the Catskills have been passed.
Then, while the railroads and all the traffic go on down the gorge
of the Hudson to New York, the valley swings off into Pennsylvania
past Scranton, Wilkesbarre, and Harrisburg. There the underlying
rock consists of a series of alternately hard and soft layers which
have been crumpled up much as one might wrinkle a rug with one's
foot. The pressure involved in the process changed and hardened the
rocks so much that the coal which they contain was converted into
anthracite, the finest coal in all the world and the only example of
its kind. Even the famous Welsh coal has not been so thoroughly
hardened. During a long period of erosion the tops of the folded
layers were worn off to a depth of thousands of feet and the whole
country was converted into an almost level plain. Then in the late
geological period known as the early Tertiary the land was lifted up
again, and once more erosion went on. The soft rocks were thus
etched away until broad valleys were formed. The hard layers were
left as a bewildering succession of ridges with flat tops. A single
ridge may double back and forth so often that the region well
deserves the old Indian name of the "Endless Mountains."
Southwestward the valley grows narrower, and the ridges which break
its surface become straighter. Everywhere they are flat-topped,
steep-sided, and narrow, while between them lie parts of the main
valley floor, flat and fertile. Here in the south, even more clearly
than in the north, the valley is bordered on the east by the sharply
upstanding range of the crystalline Appalachians, while on the west
with equal regularity it comes to an end in an escarpment which
rises to the Alleghany plateau.
This plateau, the third great band of the Appalachians, begins on
the south side of the Mohawk Valley. To the north its place is taken
by the Adirondacks, which are an outlier of the great Laurentian
area of Canada. The fact that the outlier and the plateau are
separated by the low strip of the Mohawk Valley makes this the one
place where the highly complex Appalachian system can easily be
crossed. If the Alleghany plateau joined the Adirondacks,
Philadelphia instead of New York would be the greatest city of
America. Where the plateau first rises on the south side of the
Mohawk, it attains heights of four thousand feet in the Catskill
Mountains. We think of the Catskills as mountains, but their steep
cliffs and table-topped heights show that they are really the
remnants of a plateau, the nearly horizontal strata of which have
not yet been worn away. Westward from the Catskills the plateau
continues through central New York to western Pennsylvania. Those
who have traveled on the Pennsylvania Railroad may remember how the
railroad climbs the escarpment at Altoona. Farther east the train
has passed alternately through gorges cut in the parallel ridges and
through fertile open valleys forming the main floor of the inner
valley. Then it winds up the long ascent of the Alleghany front in a
splendid horseshoe curve. At the top, after a short tunnel, the
train emerges in a wholly different country. The valleys are without
order or system. They wind this way and that. The hills are not long
ridges but isolated bits left between the winding valleys. Here and
there beds of coal blacken the surface, for here we are among the
rocks from which the world's largest coal supply is derived. Since
the layers lie horizontally and have never been compressed, the same
material which in the inner valley has been changed to hard,
clean-burning anthracite here remains soft and smoky.
In its southwestern continuation through West Virginia and Kentucky
to Tennessee the plateau maintains many of its Pennsylvanian
characteristics, but it now rises higher and becomes more
inaccessible. The only habitable portions are the bottoms of the
valleys, but they are only wide enough to support a most scanty
population. Between them most of the land is too rough for anything
except forests. Hence the people who live at the bottoms of the
valleys are strangely isolated. They see little or nothing of the
world at large or even of their neighbors. The roads are so few and
the trails so difficult that the farmers cannot easily take their
produce to market. Their only recourse has been to convert their
bulky corn into whisky, which occupied little space in proportion to
its value. Since the mountaineer had no other means of getting ready
money, it is not strange that he became a moonshiner and fought
bitterly for what he genuinely believed to be his rights in that
occupation. Education has not prospered on the plateau because the
narrowness of the valleys causes the population to be too poor and
too scattered to support schools. For the same reason feuds grow up.
When people live by themselves they become suspicious. Not being
used to dealing with their neighbors, they suspect the motives of
all but their intimate friends. Moreover, in those deep valleys,
with their steep sides and their general inaccessibility, laws
cannot easily be enforced, and therefore each family takes the law
into its own hands.
Today the more rugged parts of the Appalachian system are chiefly
important as a hindrance to communication. On the Atlantic slope of
the old crystalline band there are great areas of gentle relief
where an abundant population can dwell. Westward on the edges of the
plateau and the plains beyond a still greater population can find a
living, but in the intervening space there is opportunity for only a
few. The great problem is to cross the mountains as easily as
possible. Each accessible crossing-place is associated with a city.
Boston, as well as New York, owes much to the low Mohawk-Hudson
route, but is badly handicapped because it has no easy means of
crossing the eastern crystalline band. Philadelphia, on the other
hand, benefits from the fact that in its vicinity the crystallizes
are low and can readily be crossed even without the aid of the
valleys of the Delaware and Schuylkill rivers. It is handicapped,
however, by the Alleghany escarpment at Altoona, even though this is
lower there than farther south. Baltimore, in the same way, owes
much of its growth to the easy pathways of the Susquehanna on the
north and the Potomac on the south. Farther south both the
crystalline band and the Alleghany plateau become more difficult to
traverse, so that communication between the Atlantic coast and the
Mississippi Valley is reduced to small proportions. Happy is New
York in its situation where no one of the three bands of the
Appalachians opposes any obstacle.
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